Day 27: Intercom, Evening

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

The intercom gave its cheery jingle just before the Head Doctor's equally buoyant voice rang through the halls.

"Ah, and finally, our day is coming to a close! Rooms and roommates have been reassigned with care, though what great partnership can start without a good meal? Ah, yes, after the nurses escort all of our patients, new and old, back to their proper rooms, everyone will have the chance to enjoy a savory chicken pot pie, full of peas, carrots, potatoes, and of course, chicken. On the side, we'll have buttery corn on the cob and green beans, and to drink, you may choose from the regular slew of water, milk, or assorted juices, which your nurse will bring to you.

"I believe that's all for now! Phew, long day, huh? I know I'll be happy to get some sleep, and thank you to all our vigilant doctors and nurses, although Dr. House seems to have gone AWOL... Hmm... Well, in any case, have a good dinner, everyone!"

The intercom clicked off again as the nurses began organizing the patients for the small trek back to their rooms.

[ OOC: Remember, room threads go in response to THIS post, and please put your respective room number in the subject line of your first post. Thanks! ]

Comments

F31.

[tocircleten.livejournal.com]

Ai hadn't realized that she had taken a long nap at the Sun Room after lunch. She was tired after finishing a job the previous night, and well, just a few hours wasn't enough for her. She knew she was frail, but her contact with the Lord of Hell permitted her to have a strong body. It wasn't wearing out while she was in the facility, right?

She watched as the nurse left, and looked at whatever was on the table. It was food. It was dinner time? Ai had slept that long?

She noticed another bed too, but nobody was there. She just waited, without touching the food that was set. Maybe later.

M96

[barefaced]

“Suzaku!”

The name had left Lelouch’s mouth before he had acknowledged what he was doing, before he realized that he had drawn his gun and aimed it so eagerly at his (former?) best friend’s chest. Those words, despicable, untrue, and devastating, had been too much; too far, too many, too … everything. Even now, Lelouch could still feel his hand on the gun, his finger on the trigger. Pulling back, squeezing, and worse than that sensation was the absolute feeling that he was justified. That he was right.

Or was it worse? When it should have been unthinkable, when it should have seemed revolting, he felt a sense of satisfaction; a sense of righteousness rising far above the illness stirring. Such queasiness, it must have come from the sound of a bullet firing, and while it should have been easy to distinguish his shot from Suzaku’s, he could only think that there was no outcome to their stand-off.

No outcome? Impossible.

Lelouch sat upward, dropping a hand to his chest to ensure his senses were correct. A gunshot, a miss, a hit? Neither of them were known for inaccurate aim, and though he knew his would never match Suzaku’s when it came to speed, such a target was nothing. Possibilities drove along Lelouch’s mind briefly, before he forced his jump-starting mind to slow and start upon a second track:

Environment.

So there he went, part of his mind drawing in statements and outcomes for the shoot-out, while the other part went off on the scenery. Had his thoughts been written, it likely would have been an amusing sight.

A misfire. — White walls. — Gun jamming? — A hospital? It can’t be Tokyo! — Kallen jumped between us, Suzaku didn’t fire — Suzaku! I won’t forgive you, if Nunnally is hurt … — Did he want to die!? Tempting me with his words, his wish for death … repenting? No, Suzaku wouldn’t … — The Knights of the Black Order? For abandoning them? No, they don’t matter, this war is —

Before he could go any further (or go on with those seemingly endless possibilities), a woman entered the room with two trays. Lelouch took a step back, drawing his arm to his chest in a partial attempt to guard. At the same time, he couldn’t help but take in the full sight of her; his location confirmed by her outfit. In the back of his mind he wondered if he had really been the one to be shot, if Suzaku was in the same predicament, and how long he had been forced to endure treatment; as well as for how long Nunnally was forced to be a prisoner of … of … that person, that unknown factor that had taken her hostage.

Her smile drew in more suspicions from Lelouch, yet her words gave away nothing. He had to be patient, be still, and try to co — No. That was wrong. Lelouch came to stand before her, eyes and expression level. Briefly, his eye flashed red, and he gave out a single question, "Where am I?" The moment he released the question, he realized something was amiss.

Two something's, when she replied. Her words weren't in the dull tone of someone who was being manipulated, of someone who's will was bent. Instead, she held the same livelihood that she wore when she came in. How? The Geass, his power ... it had never faltered! No, not even when he wanted it to, his orders had always been absolute! If they hadn't, then Euphemia wouldn't have had to die!

Lelouch shook his head, taking a step back. There had to be another explanation for this! Their eye contact wasn't direct, she'd already been influenced (he didn't recall using it on anyone matching her voice pattern and facial structure), she saw the Geass while he was sleeping, the doctors had done something to his eye, C.C.'s contract was broken, C.C. was dead, eye transplant (!?), glass eye (??), brain damage, surgery —

Meanwhile, the nurse slipped away.