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damned_institute2008-02-09 12:07 am
damned-intercom.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2008-02-09 12:07 am
Day 30: Intercom, Dawn
"Good morning, Landel's!" The Head Doctor's voice blared over the intercom with a little more feedback than usual. He seemed rushed, and his voice was far less calm and controlled as it usually was during the daytime. He seemed rushed, tired. "I don't have much time at the moment, unfortunately; some troubles last night have forced the staff to convene an emergency meeting, though I hope your usual schedule won't be interrupted. For breakfast, the cafeteria has baked for you a delicious choice of hot cinnamon rolls and muffins - blueberry, banana nut, chocolate chip, you name it. We also have yogurt and fruits as sides, along with our usual choice of cereals and drinks. I hope to speak to you again soon!"
The intercom clattered, then clicked off. After a few seconds, it clicked on again.
"Oh, and nurses, could you please escort our new patients into the cafeteria along with the regular population, as per usual? Thank you very much!"
The intercom jingled again and turned off, this time for good.
[ All character introduction posts should be made in response to this post with your character's room number as the subject line. If your character has a roommate who has already been introduced, act as if that roommate has already left when your character wakes up. If your character has a roommate who is being introduced during the same shift, act as if that roommate is still asleep/has already left, depending on whether their player has posted their introduction yet or not. If you are unsure of your character's room or roommate, check here. Thanks! ]
The intercom clattered, then clicked off. After a few seconds, it clicked on again.
"Oh, and nurses, could you please escort our new patients into the cafeteria along with the regular population, as per usual? Thank you very much!"
The intercom jingled again and turned off, this time for good.
[ All character introduction posts should be made in response to this post with your character's room number as the subject line. If your character has a roommate who has already been introduced, act as if that roommate has already left when your character wakes up. If your character has a roommate who is being introduced during the same shift, act as if that roommate is still asleep/has already left, depending on whether their player has posted their introduction yet or not. If you are unsure of your character's room or roommate, check here. Thanks! ]
M34
"-delicious choice of hot cinnamon rolls and muffins-" As the intercom persisted, he finally sat up to listen to it. He seemed confused for a moment, but then he glanced around the room.
"What the hell?" Either someone had done some serious redecorating on the Elsa, or...hell, he didn't even know what the alternative was. There wasn't anybody left to come after them, and definitely wasn't anyone left to catch up to them since the UMN was gone. But who the hell would use an intercom with feedback like that, and end it so formally?
"...Okay, who redecorated?" Junior asked, glancing over at the empty bed and then at himself. Grey with a...smiley face? "And who the hell changed my clothes? This isn't funn-!"
He broke off as a strange woman came into the room, carrying a file. There was a smile plastered on her face, and she seemed nice enough, but then there was the burly man who came in behind her. He didn't. The clothes were too strange and simple to be from Ormus or U-TIC, and their leaders were all dead, anyway.
"Good morning, George," she said cheerily. "I hope you're doing well this morning."
"I would if I knew what the hell was going on," he responded. "Where are we, and what did you do to the Elsa?"
"You're in Landel's." Silence. "It's a mental hospital," she finished, and his expression darkened. "Please, don't glare at me like that. Your father said you were having all sorts of tantrums, talking about things like outer space and gnats. Impossible things for a child your age."
"Gnosis," he corrected. "And I'm not a kid!" Not to mention he and his brothers had killed his father, but Junior didn't know how that would have gone over. He was damned happy that Yuriev was gone, but...there had been some unnecessary sacrifices for it. Like Gaignun.
The woman just chuckled at him. "Of course not. But I'm sure we'll have time to discuss it later. Right now, we need to be heading to the cafeteria. I'm sure you're hungry." Junior was about to protest, but the burly man shifted and he quieted down. As far as he could tell, he didn't have his guns, so starting a fight right now would be stupid. He didn't even know where the Elsa was, or how to get back to it.
"...Fine," he grumbled.
M89
"I told Ryoko not to force me to drink that much. Ugh, I feel horrible and I have to sow two of Ryo-ohki's fields today. Man, what a lousy way to start the day."
Tenchi's mumbling was lost in the pillow, just like the noise from the intercom. The noise that couldn't be shut out, however, was the sound of a door opening on the other side of the room. It wasn't the noise Tenchi expected though. Instead of the clacking of the familiar wooden slide doors in his house, it sounded like a hinge was moving. Finally getting the sense that something was wrong, he threw off the pillow, sat bolt upright, and looked around.
The sight that greeted him was definitely not the familiar setting of his father's house. For one thing, it didn't even come close to the Japanese style his father had preferred. The bed was a cold hospital bed and the room was spartan. Tenchi had been in hospitals before, and this was most definitely a hospital.
Glancing down, he saw that he was wearing the most ridiculous clothing. Gray shirt, gray pants, and a smiley face? Turning his gaze towards the door, he saw a pretty young nurse enter the room. She seemed to be a foreigner judging by her complexion. Decidedly not Japanese. Even so, she was speaking to him in fluent and unaccented Japanese. She seemed friendly, but the big man behind her didn't.
"Do I have your attention now, Keinta? How are you doing this morning?"
Tenchi was even more confused now. "Keinta? Who's that? My name's Tenchi. Tenchi Masaki. Where am I?"
The woman merely bobbed her head. "Yes, yes. I'm sure you think you are this "Tenchi" person, Keinta. Your grandfather told us you had an active imagination. You are at Landel's, a mental hospital dedicated to helping those with mental instabilities, such as yourself, recover and become positive contributing members to society."
This was impossible. It just couldn't be. Tenchi put his hands in his head and thought for a second. Was he really insane or could it be that...
"That's it!!" he exclaimed. "Washu! Ryoko! Grandpa! I know you're out there! Is this some kind of joke? Where are you? Come on, joke's over. Can we please just go back to the normal routine and eat some of Sasami's breakfast?"
During his shouting, Tenchi had been scrambling around the room, looking for hidden cameras or other equipment. If he knew Washu, there'd be an impossibly complicated device somewhere in this room.
"Keinta, if you do not settle down, I will be forced to sedate you." Tenchi froze at the word 'sedate.' If this was an experiment or joke, it was going really far. When he had stopped fidgeting, the nurse moved towards the door.
"That's better. Now, if you are hungry, there is breakfast in the cafeteria. Please, right this way."
Tenchi hesitated for a moment. Maybe he HAD really cracked. Was it all an illusion? Beating the thought aside for a moment, he shuffled towards the door.
"Okay. I guess I could use something to eat."
He'd think about this later.
no subject
GLaDOS lay very still for quite some time after waking up, a brand new sensation of drifting through layers of consciousness before finally coming to a total awareness of one's self. Usually, it was a sharp arrival, or none at all (she was rarely ever turned off); to be aware of her surroundings so slowly was almost unpleasant.
And there was the fact that she now had a body, similar to the test subjects and scientists she had so frequently antagonized.
It didn't take her long to analyze her situation. She was in an unfamiliar location, and she was no longer a conglomeration of computer chips and cold steel. She was not hooked into the system and couldn't get any information from the central database. She was, essentially, on her own, trapped within her own database, although how this was possible even she didn't know. For a computer to suddenly be in a subject's body ...
She brought her arms up above her so she could see them, eyes opening to stare intently at the long, pale limbs. Then she brought one fingernail up to the opposing arm and scratched hard. The skin turned whiter; then, blood began to well up, a fine, thin red line in the center of the scratch.
Yes, she was in a subject's body, a completely human form. How she had gotten there was a confusing matter. Were she composed of robotics, it would make sense; one could easily transfer a database from machine to machine. A fleshy body that shed blood and was composed of neurons did not take to electrical signals well.
Once again, what hadn't science done?
GLaDOS dropped her arms back to her sides and considered what had happened. Regardless of the how, she was now in a much more vulnerable, weaker form. Whoever had done this was extremely intelligent. Perhaps they had removed her central processing cores, as well. She closed her eyes and began to go through her new mind, checking for everything she knew should be there.
Mathematics, science, general knowledge core?
If you have two objects of mass m 1 and m 2 at a distance d, then these two objects will attract each other with a force F given in this formula. G is the gravitational constant. It equals approximately 6.67*10-11Nm2kg-2.
Fairly accurate. Curiosity core?
Where am I? Why does my arm hurt? What's an arm? Oo, these sheets are scratchy. Are my insides supposed to be squishy like this?
Check. Recipe core?
6 eggs. 1 cup white sugar. 1/4 cup water. 1 teaspoon lemon extract. 1 teaspoon lemon zest ...
Check. Emotional comprehension and aggression core?
Ghrrrr ... rrrr ... rr ... rr ...
Check, as far as she could tell.
It was with some satisfaction that GLaDOS discovered her morality core did not satisfy the check, which meant she had no requirement to be falsely polite and supportive to anyone who approached her while in this situation. She sat up and opened her eyes again, surveying the room with a flat gaze. When the door opened, she met the watchful eye of a middle-aged woman in a white uniform. Certainly not a scientist or one of her previous test subjects.
"Good morning, Ms. Lancaster. I hope you're feeling well." A pause. "What did you do to your arm?"
"I evaluated my current state. A robotic body would only tear; human flesh bleeds." Her voice was as deadpan and emotionless as always, fluctuating pitch on occasion.
"I see." The woman frowned and came forward. "It doesn't look too bad. Don't do that sort of thing again, Shelly, or we'll have to take action. Now, are you hungry? Breakfast is being served in the cafeteria."
"I am never hungry." She paused, reconsidered her new, fragile form, and prodded her stomach with a finger. "However, I will be later if I do not satisfy this weak body's needs now."
"I'll take that as a yes of sorts." The woman helped GLaDOS out of the bed and kept her upright as she tried to walk for the first time in her admittedly short life. "Don't worry, I'm here to help you. Welcome to Landel's Institute, Shelly."
F2
But sleep didn't come. Something was wrong: she could feel it. Not one to allow a bad feeling to linger long before investigating, the princess lifted herself to a sitting position, rubbing the drowsiness from her eyes.
And gasped.
It certainly didn't look like any room in the palace she knew about. Had she been kidnapped by villains!? It seemed the only explanation. What fools! Didn't they know what happened to those who strayed from the path of morality!? Justice happened! Whether by a rescuer or by Amelia's own hands, her abductors were most certainly going to receive a fitting punishment for their crimes!
And worst of all, they had changed her clothes! There was only one kind of man who would disrobe a girl Amelia's age, and that was an evil kind of man!
Not to mention foolish beyond belief. It must have taken a great deal of skill and resources to kidnap the princess from her chamber deep in the palace, and yet they put it all to waste by leaving her unguarded and unrestrained! A Dam Brass ought to be all she needed to break through those walls.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, she heard footsteps from outside of her room. Leaping to her feet, Amelia quickly adopted a battle stance, chanting the Chaos Words needed to conjure a Fireball in a quiet voice. As soon as one of the villains opened the door, BOOM!
Or so she thought, but when the door opened, the only one to step inside was a lone woman. A sorceress!? Somehow, that didn't seem right. The woman gave Amelia a surprised look, and then smiled. "Oh! Joani, you're already up. Are you ready for breakfast?" There were no feelings of malice coming from the woman.
But what was Amelia going to do with a Fireball in her hands!? She couldn't just throw it at this woman who didn't even pose a threat - that would be unjust! But in that moment, she realized there was no Fireball to dispose of. Nothing had been conjured in her hands in the first place.
How could that be?
At any rate, the woman - a nurse? - seemed a bit confused, so Amelia politely corrected her. "Joani? I think you may have me confused with someone else, Miss."
The nurse glanced at a page on her clipboard, shook her head, and sighed. "No, you are definitely Joani Baker. I understand it's your first day here, but please try to cooperate."
Amelia wondered what could have convinced the woman so thoroughly that she was someone else, but she had a feeling she wouldn't get far trying to argue the same thing over and over. Besides, with her clothes and possessions missing, the princess didn't have anything to back up any claims to her identity. Instead, she inquired, "Here? Um... pardon me, but where is this, exactly?"
"You don't remember?" The stranger looked concerned. "You are in Landel's Institution. A hospital for the mentally ill, dear." Amelia was shocked. Sure, the place had looked a bit too clean to be the headquarters of any ordinary villain, but... a genuine nuthouse!? This had to be a mistake! Amelia opened her mouth to interject, but was cut off as the nurse continued to speak. "We'll be late for breakfast if we don't hurry. Are you ready to come with me?"
They were giving her food? Maybe arguing could wait a little longer.
F24
Sierra, for her part, groaned into her pillow, the nurse’s words registering for the first time. "Sleeping," she mumbled. "Go away..."
But the distant, nattering voice wouldn’t stop. "Ms. Michaels, it’s time for breakfast. You must get yourself up."
"I…" Sierra groped for words through the warm bed of inert fluff that made an appropriate metaphor for her mind in the morning. Or whenever she woke up. Especially when she was set on not in fact waking up any more than was necessary than to shoo this pest away and return to her peaceful, well-deserved rest. "I’m not hungry." Not strictly true, but she somehow doubted the staff was dedicated enough to add one of its number to the menu. Especially since they couldn’t even be bothered remember a simple request. "I said I wasn’t to be disturbed. What day is it?" She asked blearily.
The nurse frowned. Wouldn’t it normally be 'what time is it'? "It’s Sunday. And I must insist, Ms. Michaels."
Sierra, after several seconds of sleep-addled cogitation, finally realized the first of two important things. She was not being addressed by her name. Her mind quickly provided an (inaccurate) explanation: obviously she was getting someone else’s wakeup call… just the sort of mistake stupid mortals would make. It was enough for her to at last throw back her blankets and sit up so she could give whoever had been fool enough to inconvenience her with their incompetence a piece of her mind. "First of all, my name isn’t…"
The second, which directly followed, was that the reason it had been possible to carry on a conversation with a mere human in over twenty feet and a door while mumbling into a blanket was that it was actually being carried out over about five feet through only the blanket. Her eyes shot up to the nurse’s. She was in her room. Her room. That she’d paid for. That was hers. Private. Room. Hers. "...what do you think-"
"Now, Ms. Michaels." The nurse grabbed her hand and pulled, tugging a flabbergasted Sierra to her feet and through the door.
Sierra wasn’t quite alarmed. It was hard to be when there was so very little harm that could come to you. But this was so insulting and outside her experience of human behavior (usually they were at least appropriate respectful when you were paying them for things) that some doubt intruded before being pushed away by self-righteous anger halfway down the (longer than she remembered) hall. Crazy pushy bitch. She wanted her to eat breakfast bad enough to come into her room unannounced and drag her out of bed? Fine. If that was what it took for her to be allowed to go back to bed, she’d do it. But they’d rue this day, them and their business and their terrible service. All of her friends were going to hear about this.
But... was it just her, or had the décor been a lot more cheerful and rustic when she’d checked in?
Re: M22
He was lying in a bed, not a rocky forest floor, and there was a white ceiling above him, not trees. This was not the place where he had fallen asleep. Furthermore, the presence he sensed nearby did not have the distinctive chakra character of his partner. Itachi sat up quickly -- no, the person in the next bed was not Kisame. The blond man was asleep, though, and therefore not an immediate threat, but Itachi would keep an eye on him.
Quickly taking into account the small, plainly furnished room that blurred in his deteriorated vision, Itachi wondered how he could have been transported to another place without being woken. Not to mention without Kisame's notice. His eyes narrowed -- whoever was responsible must be significantly powerful. A worthy opponent, perhaps, and in such an unfamiliar situation Itachi must be on his guard.
Nevertheless, he had business to take care of that day. He had to speak with Naruto-kun, and the time to contact Sasuke was fast approaching. Therefore, he was going to leave.
Itachi slid out of bed and moved toward the door soundlessly, noticing in the process that his clothes had been changed. A trace of hesitation filtered through his determination to leave. That his clothes had been changed without his waking up was not just highly unlikely, but nigh impossible. Some sort of illusion technique must have been used -- or must be being used now -- but Itachi would have woken at the use of chakra, and he could feel none around him now. However. . . Itachi shifted into the Sharingan, just to be sure. Suddenly, he had a much greater cause for alarm.
He could not access his chakra. The technique was pulling at his vital reserves of chakra, and even the transition to Sharingan was an instant strain on his energy. The half-second before he allowed his eyes to return to normal showed him that he was not caught in an illusion.
Just as Itachi was recognizing that this situation would require more attention before he could go find Naruto-kun, the door opened. A woman dressed in a nurse's uniform entered, smiling at him. Itachi regarded her warily, prepared for an attack. Fighting half-blind and without his chakra, let alone his Sharingan, would make him distinctly vulnerable, but it could be done. Itachi considered his disadvantage objectively, dismissing the strange feeling rising in him at the thought of the possible fight. It was rather like an excessive anticipation, combined with a unusual tightening of his muscles. Whatever it was, it was immaterial to the matter at hand.
But the woman did not attack. "Good morning, Ivan," she said, smiling at him. She was addressing someone else. Itachi turned his attention back to the door and began to walk towards it, watching for sudden movements from the woman. His progress was impeded, however, when she stepped slightly in front of him.
Re: M22
"Landel's?" he asked, focusing more fully on her.
"It's a mental institution. You'll be staying here for a little while. I hope to make your stay as comfortable as possible during your rehabilation."
Itachi stared. Mental institution? He had no idea how he could have been placed in one, or why someone would have. Itachi had no time for this -- events were progressing, and he had a goal to accomplish today. He moved towards the door again, but the nurse was still blocking his way.
"I'm sorry, but you can't leave yet, Ivan. With luck, you can return to your normal life as soon as possible, but for now you must stay here while we treat you. Now, would you like some breakfast? Please come with me; I will show you the way to the cafeteria."
And with that, the nurse opened the door wider and stepped into the hall, beckoning to Itachi. He narrowed his eyes again, staring at her intently. Someone, somehow, had transported him to this institution and found a way to suppress his abilities. He was severely vulnerable, did not even know the full extent of the situation, and was facing an incredibly powerful enemy. Normally, he would disregard the nurse's request, but this situation was dangerous. For now, it was most strategic to comply. She did not seem intent on attacking him, and in fact was offering to feed him. This offer was a strange development. And most likely innocuous, however incomprehensible. Itachi decided to follow her, at least until he understood more about this place.
M17
The Aquaelie.
Fayt opened his eyes, abandoning his previous train of thought. Deluding himself wouldn't bring anyone back and right now, figuring out what was going on was on the top of his to-do list. The boy frowned as he sat up and looked around. He wasn't sure if this was a cell or a hospital and, what's worse, the room looked like something out of a 20th century film clip. There was even a room(cell?)mate sleeping in their own bed on the other side of the small room. He couldn't have been on a underdeveloped planet, could he? They had just been talking to Flad and-
If this was a program and he was a program and they were 'problems' that needed to be eradicated, why would they put him back in the 'game'? And did that mean they weren't real or...?
He was giving himself a headache. Fayt sighed and rubbed at his forehead just as the door opened, revealing a simple looking woman dressed in an outdated nurse's uniform. What was going on here? Why was everything so old here? Where was everyone? The woman smiled and checked her clipboard.
"Ah, good morning Simon! Did you sleep well?"
...Simon? Before Fayt could think to reply the woman clucked her tongue and walked over before she began prodding the boy to his feet. "Come now, we'll miss breakfast if you sit around all day, lazy boy," she teased.
"I.. Wait... I think there's been a mistake. My name's not Simon," Fayt tried. The nurse shook her head, smile widening as she gently pushed the young man to the door.
"Well, then, we'll have to fix that after breakfast, won't we? Now come on, there's cinnamon rolls! ♥"
no subject
The shocked numbness left by the vision and the horrible events that had preceeded it faded only slowly, and so only slowly did Frey come to realise that he was not in his bed in the Sindar castle, nor his bed in the Sun Palace. This wasn't the Dahak, or any of the inns he'd frequented during the long days of the war, or any other familiar or even half-familiar place. "Wha... where...?"
The lights were too harsh and bright, yet gave off no heat. The air smelled faintly like that of an infirmary, but he didn't feel any injuries that would explain his presence in such a place, and there was no one waiting by his bedside.
Lyon would never come in to wake him again but he'd finally rescued Lym, so shouldn't she be there? Or even Miakis or Georg or Kyle, or at the very least Doctor Silva or Murad should have been nearby. Frey couldn't remember a time he'd ever been really alone, and yet... there was no one here. Eventually the door opened, but the person who walked in was completely unfamiliar to Frey. He could hardly credit it--how could someone he didn't even know be given charge of his care?
Then everything really came crashing down, as the woman began to speak of things Frey could hardly understand and called him "Frederick" over and over as though that was his name. He was so stunned by the flood of information and the sheer impossibility of this situation that he made no move to resist when she hustled him out of bed and through strange, stark hallways.
And what in the name of the Feitas was he wearing...?
M83
Archer cracked an eye open as he surveyed his surroundings like a predator. He unceremoniously spread himself out on the bed, his consciousness slowly started to come back to him. White surrounded him, as if he was in some sort of pseudo-heaven but Archer knew better. There was no rest for wicked, especially him. Despite the necessity of his job in the grand scheme of things Archer wasn’t going to sugarcoat it with pretty words. It was more likely he was here for a job. He tried rolling over but almost fell out of bed, flat on his ass.
“Shit,” he grumbled, irritated at himself.
He should’ve been more alert. There was no telling what kind of hell-hole he had been dumped into this time. Make no mistake, Archer knew that if he had been summoned it was for a reason. Probably a good one too, but a part of him just didn’t give a damn anymore.
He dragged himself out of bed grudgingly, hesitant to leave his half-conscious haven. Despite the roadside motel accommodations, he had actually been quite comfortable, except for that kink in the back of his neck. He could also feel a slight migraine coming, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.
Archer systematically went about testing his physical condition and immediately felt something was off. After a few stretches, he had ascertained that something had happened to his physical body. Specifically his stomach, he was hungry. As a Heroic Spirit it wasn’t actually necessary to his existence for him to eat. This was starting to get strange.
After studying his surroundings he deduced that it appeared to be some kind of hospital. It was a sterile environment with white sheets and equally sterilized-looking clothes. He tried the door which revealed it was locked, ergo not your regular hospital. He also noted the empty bed on the other side of the room. It appeared that he had a roommate. He could tell from the ruffled sheets that someone had been there recently.
“Mr. Sears,” came a gentle voice accompanying an equally attractive body. “You’re already up.”
She emerged from the previously locked door. Archer was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t heard her coming, which he mentally berated himself for. He didn’t know where, when, or even why he was here. For Gaia not to send him any instruction was confusing to say to the least, it hadn’t happened before. It wasn’t exactly an everyday occurrence where an almighty existence dropped the ball like that.
He recognized her uniform as a nurse. She was fairly pretty woman, but not as remarkable as some of the women he knew in his life: Rin, Sakura, and Saber…
“What did you call me?” he asked, in a not exactly polite manner.
If the nurse noticed his tone she gave no indication. She merely stepped into the room, revealing the pretty figure she had to match her face.
“How are you doing this morning Mr. Sears? Are you ready for your therapy session?” she asked cheerfully.
Out of all her words, therapy registered solely in his mind. He completely skipped over his mistaken identity and connected the dots. The sterile white hospital-like surroundings, the locked door, the therapy session…
“Am I in a mental institute?” he asked, silently groaning.
Great, now he was being sent to kill crazy people.
“Of course you are, Eric. You seem to be having one of your better days today!” she exclaimed jovially. “Why don’t you get ready for breakfast?”
Archer didn’t see what she was so damn happy about. He was trapped in a mental institute, and to top it off he was a patient, if the crappy uniform and locked door were any indication.
He wondered if he should just bust out of here, but quickly smashed that idea. As much as he hated his job, he couldn’t just go around killing everyone. Unnecessary or innocent deaths always put a bad taste in his day. It’d be better if Gaia just pointed him in the right direction as usual, so he could go kill the poor sap. The only thing left was to go with the flow, and hope he didn’t walk into a trap and get killed. It’s not like he had to really worry about death. He was already dead as a door nail.
F3
...she had to figure out where she was first.
This obviously wasn't Hogwarts, and someone had taken her clothes and replaced them with a rather unflattering uniform. The bed next to her had another young girl in it, sleeping soundly. Just as Hermione considered waking the girl up, a nurse walked in, a smile plastered on her face.
"Hello, Miss Miller! How are you feeling this morning?"
She had an American accent which threw Hermione off, and there was an awkward pause before she responded. "I think you've got the wrong person...my name isn't..."
A wave of a hand cut her off. "I understand you're confused now, but that's what we're here to help you with. As long as you co-operate, you'll get better in no time."
Realization slowly dawned on Hermione, but it was almost impossible to believe. "Where am I?" she asked bluntly. "How did I get here? Where are Harry and Ron?"
"You're in Landel's Institute, dear, and your parents sent you here to get better. Now, let's hurry on now, you want to get breakfast don't you?"
With that, a slightly stunned Hermione allowed herself to be steered out of the room, quite unsure how she managed to get herself stuck in this situation and refusing to believe her parents had put her here. If only she could find her wand, she could get out of this situation...
no subject
--Again? She blinked, pushed the covers back and sat up in bed. It was then that she realized that this place--she'd never been here before. Where exactly was she?
It was when she opened her mouth to ask the Entity for her current location's coordinates that she realized another thing. She couldn't recall any incantations. The words she'd used to manipulate and shape data so effortlessly just wouldn't come to mind. What was even more worrying was exploring her deeper consciousness only to find that the reassuring mass of the Entity wasn't there. Somehow, it seemed, she'd been completely severed from the database.
And yet she was still here?
She glanced down at her lap to find her hands twisting in the sheets of her unfamiliar bed. All by themselves. A human mannerism, she knew--she'd studied them all in depth, even if she practiced very few. The human body was not a machine. It was apt to be thinking and even acting independently of the mind's control, a truly unsettling concept. After all, what was the point of a central nervous system if it didn't even have total control over the anatomy?
Therefore, artificial interfaces. A convenient entity with the appearance of a normal person, but lacking most of the inconveniences of human nuances. Some still had to be kept to blend in with the general population--little things like eating and smiling and transmission of data through spoken soundwaves were necessary to fit into her fabricated persona, but Ryoko herself had always been safe from the madness of it all, tucked securely within the niches of the colony's database.
But she was, as far as she could tell, totally human now. How this came to be, she had no idea, and it was with a slight shiver of terror that she recognized that fact. No piece of information had ever been denied her before. She was a part of the Entity, which understood absolutely everything--save for the obvious exception of Haruhi Suzumiya--but she had no idea what had just changed her this way.
Waking up human.
The door opened then, and Ryoko almost flinched--amazing, how the body twitched with fear like that, without any conscious control. She'd yet to appreciate her new grasp of emotions before the human that had entered was speaking, and Ryoko raised her gaze up politely to acknowledge her.
"Ah, you've woken up, Miss Sharp? Come on, then, breakfast's already being served at the cafeteria, and I'm sure you're hungry after your long trip here. Welcome to Landel's Institute, dear."
Ryoko paused for a moment to contemplate the data this woman was feeding her, before discarding it as inconsequential. The human was obviously not in possession of all the facts. First of all, her interface's honorable surname was not Sharp. Secondly, her system hadn't been built in with any concept of hunger. Lastly, what exactly was this 'Landel's Institute', anyways?
However...she wasn't an interface anymore, Ryoko admitted. And she was disconnected from the Entity. She didn't know how long it'd been since Yuki Nagato deleted her, but it was obvious now that she was no longer in control of the situation, and perhaps she never had been in the first place.
"All right," Ryoko said decisively, sliding out of bed and fixing her nurse with a bright smile. "Then let's go, hmm?" She'll follow along for now, she supposed. Sooner or later she would find out what exactly had happened to her. She would make sure of it.
M20
A western hospital perhaps. It was then that he noticed the ridiculous clothing he was wearing. Whoever had thought to put him in an outfit with a stupid smiling face on the pocket obviously had a death wish. He immediately went over to the cupboard where his real clothes should have been hanging. They weren't there. Neither was his sword. Saitou was immediately on guard.
He turned as a plump woman dressed as a western nurse walked into his room. She reminded Saitou of a fat beaver. "Oh, Mr Takeshi, I see you've finally woken up. Well then, why don't we get you to the cafeteria, shall we?" she said in a cheerful tone.
She was no threat, but Saitou was not in the mood to be toyed with. "Where are my clothes and my katana?" he said in a quiet, dangerous voice. The nurse, realising the veiled threat, turned stern. "Now Mr Takeshi, we can't allow things like swords in a hospital," she admonished. "As for your clothing, well, all the patients here are dressed in the same outfit. You'll just have to make do, I'm afraid."
Saitou's eyes narrowed to slits, and he smiled menacingly at the lady in front of him. "Don't play games with me, woman. My name is not Takeshi, it is Fujita Gorou. I'm obviously fine, now I'd like my things returned to me so that I can leave."
The nurse's expression turned serious. "I'm sorry Mr Takeshi, but you're not going anywhere in the condition you're in. You'll have to stay in here until the doctor believes you well enough to be integrated into society again."
Saitou had no idea what the woman was talking about, but arguing with her was proving pointless. Perhaps he would get answers elsewhere. His face relaxed into a smile again. "I guess breakfast is in order then," he said in a calm voice.
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The truth was, Knives was no where near as strong as Vash. He had learned that when the Doctor had compared their Arms and he knew it in whatever was left of his heart now. Vash would continue, he would foolishly force his way through life, and do a lot of good in the process. Knives couldn't do that. He didn't have the will or the strength.
It hurt too much to stay. Knives let go. He gave in. He let himself be weak and disappeared, leaving only a cloak in the wind behind him.
The next thing he could feel was the slight warmth of thin covers wrapped around him. He could feel his arms and his legs tucked close to his body. He could feel the side of his face against a pillow. He could feel the sweat pants and shirt that clothed him. He could feel his fingers holding onto his knees. He could feel artifical light on his body.
He could hear movement outside of the room and smell the stale air of a hospital. He could open his eyes.
When he did, he saw the other half of a all too clean room. His eyes narrowed slightly.
This wasn't oblivion. This wasn't even the desert. He was in a hospital.
His first thought was that somehow Vash had found him and wanted him to heal, but it was silly to think that his brother would take him to a hospital instead of caring for him personally. There was no sight of Vash's silly and stupid grin, no scent of his brother at all in this room. It was a new place with a new room. Slowly, because he wasn't sure how much effort it would take, Knives sat up and looked around, blinking in confusion.
Before he could move any further though, the door opened and a hurried looking woman came in with a tray of food.
"Oh good," she said, when she saw him. She a middle-aged human woman in a uniform that gave her away as a nurse. Knives looked at her without an expression, suppressing his automatic reflex to glare at her. "You're awake. I'm sorry but there's a bit of a mess out there, so you'll have to eat breakfast in your room."
Knives said nothing, only looked at her and waited. She moved closer and placed the tray by his bed.
"Where's Vash?" he finally asked, his voice low and carefully passive. "Where's my brother?" He didn't see how it would be possible for him to have been brought to a hospital without his brother knowing. Everyone on the forsaken planet would know. He had caused a bit of a commotion.
The nurse pressed her lips together, troubled seeming for a brief moment before she smiled at him. It was a fake smile, and not the kind that Vash was so masterful at. It would have been obvious even to the dumbest human this woman was forcing the expression. Knives felt himself hating her and wanting her to leave him alone. He resisted the urge to kill her, instead letting his hands tighten around the sheets on his bed. "Don't worry about that. You are here to get better. Welcome to Landel's. I'll do my best to make sure you get what you need here. Right now, though, it's best you stay in your room. Eat and rest. Someone will be back here shortly."
Again, Knives said nothing. He watched the nurse leave and looked cautiously at his food before moving to lie back down in his bed, back to the rest of the room.
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She wouldn't tell him about Vash. That unsettled Knives. He would have to work out for himself what happened to his brother. He could have simply tried to kill everyone in the hospital in search for Vash, but instead he stayed still. Killing that much people would make Vash sad, and hadn't Knives already caused him enough pain?
Soon he was sleeping again, taking the woman's advise to rest. After he felt better he would find out more about--what had she called this place?--Landel's.