damned_institute | Day 27: Intercom, Evening

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.

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"Of course that's my real name," Aziraphale answered, trying not to reply too quickly. "I'm a hum...a person just like everyone else within this establishment. This place is really most fascinating, don't you think?"

Azirphale sat at his desk, frowned slightly at his glass that was not full of tea, began to tuck into his supper.

"Oh please," Yohji replied with a snort. "Don't tell me you actually believe the lies they tell." He probably should do the good thing and tell the guy about the whole place, but it was such a pain and hell, he'd had to find out for himself. "And yeah, fascinating, if by that you mean monster infested hellhole."

He sighed and decided that he needed a drink if he was going to be telling people things. He slid off the bed and fumbled underneath the mattress to pull out the bottle of Scotch and took a swig right from the bottle before replacing it. He laid out the knives too, placing them on top of his pillow. "Whatever the nurses told you is a lie."

"I have yet to have a chance to converse with the staff of this facility, but I assure you, that regardless of what they call me, my name is Allan Stark," Aziraphale lied, consoling himself in the fact that a little white lie for the greater good was more than a forgivable offense.

"Now I must ask you, good sir, where you found all that cutlery, and alcohol for that matter."

"If that's what you want to convince yourself of." Yohji shrugged dismissively and went to lay down on the bed, closing his eyes and just waiting for the doors to open. He could really use the company and some good booze. Was looking forward to it in fact.

He turned to regard the man with a dark grin. Obviously didn't know. "Cutlery from the kitchen, booze from one of the doctor's offices last night. You'll understand when the doors open in a while."

"Are the doors not open now?" Aziraphale went to check the door, and most distressingly, found it to be locked.

"Ah, I see, well that makes a degree of," he muttered to himself as he sat back down at his desk. He looked through it, finding basic stationary supplies. With pad and pen in hand, he turned to his roommate, "so you say the doors will open in a little while, why is that?"

Yohji shook his head and smirked when the other man tried the door only to find it steadfastly locked. "They lock them under the pretense of this being an actual mental hospital," he replied calmly.

"And yeah, they'll open soon so we can all go out and wander the halls for the Head Doctor's sick amusement seems like. You should be careful and find a weapon or two. Some of the creatures that roam the halls are pretty vicious." He paused for a moment, thinking of last night and then nodded. "And every couple of nights they take some of the patients, brainwash them and make them fight against their friends."

"Good to know, thank you," Aziraphale replied, jotting down some notes.

"Have you met with a man going by the name of Crowley?" he inquired, hoping that Crowley wasn't also going by an assumed name (though he wouldn't put it past him, agents of darkness always delighted in miscommunication).

Well, at least he was being taken seriously? That was something that Yohji could appreciate.

"Never heard of him," the assassin replied apologetically. "There's too many people here for me to have met everyone though, so he could be here. Friend of yours?"

"Of sorts," Aziraphale began, "we've got a lot of history."

Ah, Yohji understood. He nodded seriously. "Oh, that kind of friend. I know the type." A bit like himself and probably Schuldig at the moment. Or Ken and Kase. Or Aya and uh... that guy... Shion?

Day 27: Intercom, Evening

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