damned_institute | Night 74: Records Archive (Third Floor)

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Night 74: Records Archive (Third Floor)

[From here.]

After having it built up so much, the Records Archive turned out to be a rather unassuming room.

It looked much like a number of the other rooms scattered throughout the institute. There were computer consoles all along the walls, interspersed with bookshelves that held countless different volumes -- journals, notebooks, and files, all looking to have been organized and cataloged in a very methodical way. There was a table in the center of the room surrounded by chairs; atop it were a few open journals, along with one large binder. Was this what Landel was referring to whenever he mentioned paperwork?

Castiel used his flashlight to take in the whole room, noting that there was yet another teleportation pad in the corner, but it was abandoned save for them. Maybe Landel hadn't expected them to get this far...

Other than the computers, though, this was the sort of thing that Castiel was comfortable with. This was research.

He turned back toward the others. "It looks like we have plenty of work to do."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Records Archive, Kratos decided, was just as anti-climatic as the manner in which they'd just found it--though, what he'd been expecting instead, he had no idea. Perhaps a monster, or after last night, a lethal trap...

"So we do." He wandered over to examine the computers. While the amount of paper to go through was staggering, no doubt there was important information to be found on the machines, and between the three of them, he estimated that he was likely the most familiar with computers. A quick hunt yielded a power button; upon pressing it, one of the screens lit up.

While the computer booted up, Kratos looked over his shoulder at Lloyd. They were in for a long night of reading, and last time he'd checked, academic reading wasn't exactly one of his son's hobbies, let alone one of his strong suits. "Are you going to be alright?"

Computers and paperwork. Binders, journals, files. Lloyd should have realized what a records archive would hold, but somehow he'd thought it would be different, more dramatic, more physical. This room was supposed to hold the key to traveling between worlds. There should have been something like... like the room in the Renegade base that held the Rheairds, or maybe something like the Otherworldly Gate. There was nothing like that here, though. Just books. Lloyd's expression filled with dismay as it sank in what they'd have to do. The answer was here, somewhere, written on one single page in a thousand, a million, assuming it wasn't just in a computer where he'd never know how to find it. It was worse than looking for a needle in a haystack. He couldn't quite bite back a groan.

But this was important. Just as important as finding a cure for Colette's crystallization, only now there were more lives at stake. If he could stand to search through all the books the king of Tethe'alla had in his archives on just the hope of finding a cure, he could do the same here, now, for the sake of finding a way back to their worlds. Grim resolve settled on him like a blanket made of steel.

"I'll manage," he said. With deliberate determination, he made his way to the nearest bookshelf and skimmed the spines of the binders before grabbing the first one there. All of them were labeled with the letters M-U and some numbers, but without any kind of context, he had no idea if it had anything to do with their search. Only one way to find out.

Making his way to the table, the teen set his sword down and unhooked the small lamp from his belt. That would work for a light that they could all read by without having to hold their flashlights. He cranked the handle a few times for good measure, to make sure it didn't suddenly go out. Then he cracked open the binder and started to read.

It didn't take long for all the blood to drain from his face. "H-holy crap." His voice came out raw, filled with horror. "What- This is-" He flipped a page, then another. Page after page, all filled with the details of horrible torture and experiments. Halfway through the binder, he suddenly slammed it shut. "What kind of place is this?!"

Kratos was just as willing to jump right into the fray, it seemed, seeing how he made a beeline for one of the computers. That was for the best, as Castiel wouldn't have much luck with them. Books and journals, on the other hand -- those he could handle very well.

Lloyd wasn't as used to this sort of thing -- between Kratos' question and that groan of misery, Lloyd seemed to be as fond of research as Dean was.

Thinking about Dean just filled Castiel with a pang, though. His friend was out there, manipulated into thinking he was a completely different person. And all of this? This was what they had to do if they were going to have any chance of retrieving their friends. Castiel could only assume that Kratos and Lloyd had a few people out there as well.

He moved to another shelf and grabbed the first journal that he saw, flipping back the clear cover to start paging through it. He wandered back to the table and took a seat near Lloyd's lantern. It didn't take long to figure out what this was -- it was a record of some of the Special Counseling sessions, describing everything from how the patient was taken from their room to what mixture of drugs they were given to where they were placed and how they performed.

Castiel glanced up when Lloyd had his outburst. "What is it?"

Lloyd's response didn't exactly inspire enthusiasm, but at least he didn't seem to be complaining too much--yet. Kratos watched him walk over to a shelf and select a binder to peruse before turning back to the computer and the complicated task of extracting what he wanted off of it. As it turned out, the computer was easier to manipulate than he'd expected, and in a few minutes or so, he'd managed to access one of the available databases.

He scanned through the listings with a frown. It seemed to be a series of strange names, and then for a while, it simply devolved into a long listing of the word "Earth" with various numbers attached. A catalog of different worlds, then? (How many versions of Earth were there?) In that case...Kratos scrolled through until he reached "S"--ah, there it was: "Sylvarant". He clicked on the listing, and watched as an image of the planet filled one half of the screen, while the other half began spitting out various statistics and data about the first of two planets he considered, to some degree, his home.

Right as he was about to read further, though, Lloyd slammed his binder shut in obvious disgust. Kratos's head whipped around, eyes instinctively searching for a threat first, and then finally settling on Lloyd second. Unlike Castiel, though, he didn't say anything, but merely waited for his son to explain himself.

He wouldn't have to wait long. Lloyd glared at the binder with all the hate he possessed. "They do these... these things to us-!"

-a knife flashed in the dark, cut into his hand-

"-and then they write about it like they don't even care-!"

-Kratos's hand missing its Key Crest, a false crystal instead of his Exsphere-

"-like we're nothing but animals! Not even that!" In a fit of fury he shoved the binder right off the desk, not caring when a few papers fell out. "That whole thing was nothing but a list of torture and what it did, like it was just an experiment!"

The outburst was something fitting to a hot-blooded human, someone with very little control over their emotions. Dean and Sam would have been just as appalled by what was written down here. Castiel, on the other hand, wasn't surprised by it. It had never been made a secret that they were nothing but lab rats to these people, and if they were being experimented on, it was natural that there would be a record of it somewhere.

So instead of offering any sort of comfort or consolation, Castiel's gaze instead shifted down to the journal in his hands. "This one is similar. It's a record of the different brainwashing incidents."

Castiel hadn't been chosen for either of those things, so there was nothing for him to look up. He doubted most people would want to be reminded of what they'd been put through, either, which meant he was on the fence on whether to take any of these documents with him.

What Kratos had pulled up on the computer, on the other hand -- that looked intriguing. Castiel tucked the journal under his arm and moved over to where Kratos was standing so that he could get a look at what was on the screen.

It was just an experiment, Kratos wanted to say, but he understood. It was not in Lloyd's nature to see evidence of evil and force indifference, as his father was wont to do - something Kratos admired, even as he dismissed the cold, dehumanizing tone of the experiment logs as simply a consequence of reality.

"And we are seeking to put an end to it," he reminded Lloyd gently. "Save your anger for the appropriate parties." There was a practical bent to his words as well: the last thing they needed was for something or someone unwanted to wander in because the volume of Lloyd's voice had attracted it.

Kratos turned back to the computer and noticed that Castiel had now moved on to the contents of his screen. Just as well, he supposed: although it was expected that Landel carefully account for all of his experiments, that didn't mean he or any other sane person wanted to read through all of said accounts. "This is...home," he said, and hated how his voice caught briefly - not so much because he missed Sylvarant (which he did), but because it had never truly been his home, a sentiment that dated back to the Kharlan War. "One half of it, to be more precise."

He returned to the listing and scrolled down to click on "Tethe'alla". "Its twin," Kratos explained as the next listing popped up. "The two planets are innately connected to one another." He sighed and lingered on the slowly revolving image of the planet before beginning to look through the data on the side. "...and apparently some several million light-years away." The term "light-year" was unfamiliar, but its meaning seemed slightly inherent.

"I don't need to save anything," Lloyd growled. The anger wasn't directed at Kratos or Castiel, but it was still fierce and sharp. "I already know who I'm angry at, and I definitely know he deserves it!"

Even so, when Kratos brought up "home," Lloyd couldn't help but draw closer to the computer, only shooting one last hateful glance at the binder. The sight of those two familiar names, though, completely drew the rest of his attention. Something stirred inside of him. Home. He'd known he wasn't crazy, and he'd had Kratos to back him up, but seeing evidence of their world right in front of his eyes still loosened something he hadn't realized had started to knot tight. Not only that, but the numbers next to each name...

He reached out and pointed, touched the screen. "What do these numbers mean? How do we use this to get back to our worlds?" He didn't know what "light-years" were, either, and didn't know why there wasn't also mention of "heavy-years" or "dark-years" or whatever, but ultimately he figured that wasn't very important. What was important was how exactly they were supposed to use this new information.

That moment of clashing between Kratos and Lloyd was simple enough for Castiel to ignore. It wasn't something he needed to be a part of, more of a parental request for control than anything else. It was true that anger wouldn't get them anywhere right now, though holding it close and stoking it might eventually be of use to Lloyd. If they ever found Landel, he might have the wherewithal to make a killing blow.

As Kratos explained what was on the screen, Castiel leaned in, taking in both planets and as many details about them as displayed on the screen. They were connected? Something like a planet and its moon, then, except both of these were fully formed. It wasn't like anything Castiel had heard of before, but this place had taught him that there were plenty of things he hadn't known.

He, on the other hand, knew what light-years were, but he didn't bother explaining, instead focusing on the numbers that Lloyd pointed out. "It says they're coordinates, but they don't follow a pattern I'm accustomed to," he said with a frown. "We should copy this all down if we have pen and paper."

The fact was that he couldn't rely on himself to remember it without writing it down, these days.

Lloyd got the last word, but at least he had calmed down shortly thereafter, which was enough for Kratos. In the meantime: "Do you know anyone who might be able to decipher them?" he asked Castiel as he fished around for the pen he usually carried on him - not for writing, ironically, but for self-defense. As for paper, well, they were surrounded by a decent-sized quantity of it; Kratos ended up selecting the backside of a journal cover page and began scribbling down the coordinates in the most legible handwriting he could manage. "I'm afraid I'm no master of cartography."

It also occurred to him that perhaps they ought to record the coordinates of all other planets and "altverses" - the word, heard only once yet apparently firmly imprinted, had floated up from his memory - to disseminate to the other patients. The problem was the sheer volume of information. Although there were not nearly as many patients left as there were listed worlds, it seemed that Landel kept the information regardless of whether a person was still in the institute or not, which meant that there were likely to be many redundant entries. That was the price to pay, though: no one had bothered to label anything as relevant or not, and even if names had been attached, Kratos did not know everyone within the institute, as few as they now numbered.

"It might also be useful to write down the coordinates for the rest of the entries here," he said, gesturing to the screen, "in case anyone else is interested. Although, I could do with some assistance."

Lloyd grimaced, eying the computer screen with another wash of dismay. The list was long. So long that Kratos hadn't been able to see all of the names without clicking buttons to take the screen to the next page. He wanted to groan again, would have protested if this had been homework, but if these were the numbers they needed to get back to their worlds, how could he justify skipping any of them? Everyone who'd been trapped here deserved the same chance to get back to their world, and who knew if anyone else would make it this far?

"I have a pencil," he said, fishing it out of his tool belt. "I brought it in case I needed to write something down for my map. I only have one, though." Which meant two things to write with between the three of them. One of them would have to sit by and wait while the other two copied what they could. "Castiel, maybe you could keep looking through the books..." He scowled doubtfully. What they'd found so far had been as useless as it was enraging. His hands clenched at the idea of having to read through more of them.

No, he knew which task he'd prefer. Following Kratos's lead, he pulled a piece of paper free from a different book, then tugged a chair over next to his father's. "You take the top half, I'll take the bottom," he offered. Then determinedly he set the work.

When it came to translating the numbers into actual information, Castiel didn't know where to begin. They didn't fit the kind of coordinates that he was familiar with, which made sense when he considered that they were dealing with an entire universe rather than a single spherical world. For now, they were going to have to copy down what they could and hope they could find someone who knew what to do with the information.

Still, having it was half the battle.

It did seem overly tedious to write down each set of numbers when the majority of these worlds belonged to people no longer here, but they didn't have much choice. He should have brought a pen or pencil with him, but Castiel hadn't considered they'd find something quite like this.

"There may be another way," he said after a pause. "If we use our radios and send out a message to the rest of the patients, they could respond with the names of their worlds and we could prioritize by taking down that information." That all depended on how many people had their radios with them and would know how to respond, but it was a place to start.

Kratos froze, halfway through writing down another set of coordinates, when Castiel pitched his alternative. His first thought was to reprimand himself for not having thought of that; his second was to remember that he had never used the radios before, so it would make sense if he were to forget about them. "That's not a bad idea," he said, bending down to reach for the radio at his feet. "I'm not sure how many people will respond, but that sounds like a reasonable place to start."

What was the public channel again...? Kratos fiddled with the knobs as he searched his memory, trying to recall the number he'd seen printed on the sheet that had been passed down a few days ago. It was something painfully easy, something that wouldn't normally be difficult to forget--ah, right. He tuned the radio to the appropriate channel, hefted the radio, and began his transmission.

Once he'd finished, Kratos set the radio back down. "We'll wait a few minutes to see if anyone responds; if not, we'll proceed with our original plan." He turned his head sharply as the door suddenly creaked, but the spike of alarm swiftly faded as one of the new arrivals quickly lifted her flashlight to her face to identify herself and waved. It wasn't someone he knew, but the face seemed familiar - a fellow patient. He exhaled slowly and turned back to the computer. "Speak of the devil," he said wryly. "Might as well ask them what their worlds are while we're all in the same room."

Edited 2014-01-06 06:50 (UTC)

Lloyd's startled expression flashed across his face a lot more openly than Kratos's, then was followed quickly with chagrin. "I didn't even think about the radios. You can really use them to talk to everyone? Not just one person?" He hadn't realized that. He watched with interest as Kratos demonstrated, then quickly scribbled the public frequency number in the corner of his paper even as he did his best to memorize it in his head.

Once the transmission was over, he waited a breathless moment just in case they got an instant response. He wasn't expecting to hear the door creak open, and he jerked around, fumbling for the sword he'd left back on the other desk. Dammit, he shouldn't have been so careless-!

Oh. Alarm faded. It was just other patients. He'd seen the girl around, though he'd never spoken to her. The other guy, though... Lloyd craned a look. Even with the light of their flashlights and his lamp, the shadows cast still seemed to distort everything, but he was pretty sure that was the guy he'd spoken with just that day. He lifted his hand in greeting.

Castiel wouldn't have known about the public channel, nor how it worked, unless it had been explained on that piece of paper with all of the frequencies. Even then, he was uncertain about how to do it and was therefore grateful that Kratos was willing to make the broadcast.

This was still so new to them. For once, the radio messages would be coming from patients rather than from some unknown figure. It felt like a step in the right direction, though who knew if they'd get any replies.

"Thank you," he said to Kratos under his breath, though at that point the door opened and a pair of other patients stepped inside. So there were others who had also made it this far. That was a good sign, and Castiel even recognized one of them.

Seeing how only two of them could write down coordinates in the first place, Castiel decided to volunteer for this particular task. "I'll go speak to them," he said as he moved away from the computer. "I'll be back in a moment."

[To here.]

Kratos nodded as Castiel got up to go speak to the two patients that had just arrived, and turned his attention back to waiting on the radio. It didn't take long before someone responded, and at first, Kratos hesitated, not entirely sure how to respond. Eventually, though, he decided that some information was better than none at all, and indicated for the man on the other end to continue.

"Take over for me," he told Lloyd once he'd finished. "I'll run the search." As the one with more computer savvy, he preferred to hunt through the entries himself rather than let Lloyd struggle through it, and Lloyd was better at conversation anyway. It would also hopefully keep him occupied so Castiel could talk in peace.

Technology wasn't Lloyd's strongest suit, and he knew it. Knew it and was just as glad to leave that task to Kratos. He nodded, setting his pencil down for the moment. He couldn't write anything down while his father was running the computer through that search.

In the mean time, he fished his own radio out and set the knobs to the public channel setting. He'd relay any information Kratos needed to hear.

It was hard, though, to stay completely focused. His eyes kept darting to Castiel and the other patients. What were they saying? Had they found anything tonight that might help? Did they have any warnings about monsters elsewhere? He had to rein in the impulse to get up and go join them. Castiel was handling it, and Kratos needed him here.

[From here.]

Lloyd didn't have to wait long, as Castiel headed back over soon after he'd left. Ryuuzaki and the woman with him had been in a hurry, but they'd given him the information needed, so that was all that mattered. If anything, it was good to see that another group was moving on, as they would be spending quite some time here from the looks of things.

"I need to search through the computer," Castiel said as he stepped toward Kratos. He didn't want to forget any of the details he'd been given, seeing how he couldn't trust his memory as much as usual.

There were going to be plenty of Earths to search through, so he wanted to pinpoint these two as quickly as possible, not to mention trying to find his own.

Edited 2014-01-07 15:37 (UTC)

It wasn't long before the man responded again; Kratos handed the radio over to Lloyd and scribbled "Amestris" - or, what was hopefully an approximate spelling - on the sheet of paper in front of him. He turned his attention back to the computer. There had to be some kind of search function; especially with all these versions of Earth, it was difficult to imagine someone committing all of the nuances to memory.

Eventually, though, he found the search function - handy, having a small hand lens icon for easier identification - and typed in "Amestris". The results had just popped up when Castiel came back, asking to use the computer.

"Do you need me to run the search immediately?" he asked. "Otherwise, if you write down the information over here" - Kratos pushed the sheet and pen in Castiel's direction - "I'll attend to it after this one--unless you needed to take care of it personally?"

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