damned_institute | Day 32: Sun Room (4th Shift)

It was rare that Homura's nurse try to persuade him to a scheduled activity, but then, it was rare that Homura didn't go. But the demi-god had plans, and the poor woman had little other choice but to leave in a huff as he once again settled himself near the bulletin board in the Sun Room.

His conversation with Kenren the previous shift had left the demi-god with a lingering sense of anxiety. Perhaps it was something only those from his own world could do, but none the less, he was all the more ready for night to begin now. Goals and memories, the truth of his past and the possibility of the future: all thoughts lingering on the forefront of his mind, more than enough motivation to move forward.

Impatience was something of a rush for an immortal, he'd discovered. Homura liked the feeling, the excitement even before he had arrived in this prison. And now while he waited, he savored it again, a yearning that shone so much brighter than the boredom of Heaven.

[Waiting for History Club Q&A time.]

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Angel nodded slightly, deciding not to push her for anything more. He knew so little at this point that whatever details she might've had to offer would've just been floating pieces of a puzzle rather than anything useful. Maybe later, when it wasn't so soon after, he could ask her about it.

He glanced at her, not surprised by the request and assuming she meant she wanted to stay in her room for the night. "Yeah. Sure. I won't be far, if you need anything."

Most of tonight would probably be spent around the room blocks to see if he could break apart some sink pipes. Speaking of which—

"I don't know if you've heard, but there's a girl who can craft weapons. I'm meeting with her tomorrow night. If you want, I can ask her to put your name down."

He wasn't sure how long Skuld's list was at the moment—likely a decent length, though-but better late than never. And while he knew Willow didn't handle weapons on a regular basis, he'd still feel better if she had something on her. As much as he hated to admit it, it was getting exceedingly hard to keep the people he knew safe on his own and that wasn't going to change any time soon.

Willow sighed in relief at Angel's reply and gave a quick nod. She'd been half-afraid he'd insist someone stay with her; it was nice to know that she wouldn't have to worry about that tonight.

Now all she needed to do was talk with the guy she was supposed to be meeting. Try and find out as much as she could, so she could at least try to protect herself and others.

Willow looked up in surprise at his next statement. "Craft them? You mean with magic?" She'd learned from Hokuto that other people here had different kinds of magic than she did, and it was probably a really slim chance, but still... "Um, yeah. Thanks." With magic out of the question, Willow knew she'd need more than just a map and a scalpel if she was going to survive until they escaped.

"Someone I spoke to earlier called it alchemy," Angel said, "but I don't know what it is to Skuld. She says she's a goddess." He frowned. "I think she has a license or something."

A bizarre concept if anything, but somehow, it made sense, too.

He started to get up. There wasn't anything else he had to say and he wasn't the best at keeping a conversation going. It'd just descend into awkward silence for both of them if he stayed any longer.

"Anyway, I just...wanted to see how you were." He hesitated. "Be careful tonight."

[going...somewhere. Will put up link later when I know. :X]

Willow had to smile about the goddess part. After everything she'd seen and experienced that day alone, she was willing to believe anything. Fictional characters becoming real, goddesses...

"I will." Her smile slowly faded as Angel walked away. "I will," she repeated once more softly. If she could get through that night, she'd be able to tackle anything the Institute could throw at her.

So now, Willow just had to wait. And search, she remembered hurriedly, realizing that people had entered the room while she was distracted with Angel. Did he come in already?...

[from here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/358017.html?thread=28848513#t28848513) Sorry I'm late~!]

Ashton wasn't exactly sure who to go find. No one had showed up to greet him, and after checking the Bulletin Board again, making doubly sure that there was no one with that description sitting alone... he spotted her. That was her, right? There was someone else with red hair sitting alone, but that was totally a guy, if he wasn't mistaken (he'd been mistaken before!) and - this one looked endlessly more pleasant, to tell the truth.

So he approached slowly, nervously. If this wasn't the girl he was looking for, he'd be quite embarrassed. "Ahh - hello? You're the girl from the bulletin, aren't you? I don't think I caught your name. Uh... I'm Ashton." He sheepishly pointed to the bandages still wrapped around his head, as if they were an identifying trait.

His voice was coming out quicker, more nervous, than he'd wanted it to. But no matter, right? He'd settle down a little bit in a second, unless this wasn't really who he was supposed to meet, in which case he'd make the fastest getaway he could.

Willow saw him a split second before he started approaching her. She hesitated in saying anything, though, in case he was actually headed towards someone behind her, which could very easily be the case. But he came right up to her and started speaking, too quickly for her to answer his first question until he was finished.

She smiled a little nervously at him. "Yeah. I'm Willow. Hi." A tiny wave accompanied the words. She scooted over on the couch to make room for him, at a loss for anything else to say, or how to start the conversation that was supposed to follow. Awkwardness was a fun thing to have to deal with.

Ashton rather ungracefully took that spot next to the woman on the couch, not saying anything until he'd settled down. Yeah, awkward. He was afraid that the words would spill out again faster than he could keep up with them. So he'd have to - breathe, right. Breathe.

So he was quiet for a second while he took another breath.

When he spoke again, it was a smidgen calmer. "Yeah.. hi. Sorry, this is kinda weird, isn't it? I mean.. it's not every day that you meet up with someone to talk about the horrendous nighttime practices of this place." He laughed a little uneasily.

"Yeah," Willow responded, cutting off a nervous laugh that would only have made the situation more awkward. "I was kind of hoping that I never would have to." She clenched and unclenched her hands in her lap, wishing fiercely that she had a laptop or something to keep her mind and hands busy.

"What, um... what happened to you?" she asked slowly after a brief pause. It was the easiest way she could think of to phrase the question, and for some reason it felt less heartless than 'How long ago did it happen?' But the words felt cruel as soon as they left her lips, so she quickly added "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Ashton was more aware of Willow's nerves than he probably should have been - he noticed her hands uneasily tensing and untensing, so he put on a gentler tone. "Yeah, it's true, but.. if we don't talk about it with people, they might not know that this sort of terrible thing even happens. When my roommate got taken.. I'd just learned about it that day. If I hadn't have known, I wouldn't have been able to find him that night," he said matter-of-factly. It was true. There was no way to prevent stuff like this, but there was education, and education was important.

He swallowed, his throat dry. "But we're not talking about him, I guess. We're talking about me."

Steeling himself, the swordsman began his story evenly, and (as yet) without care as to how horrible it sounded. "They - I was in a wheelchair that day from some injuries the night before, so they just wheeled me out of my room and stuck a needle in me. When I came to, I was lying face-down, and I couldn't move my head."

He blushed a little to think of what came next - it was so terrible, and so very personal. "Then.. I felt them taking some of the hair off of the back of my head. It was really terrible, that loss of control.. almost as bad as the scalpel, and then the drill, and then the saw. And all - and all the blood."

It was harder retelling this than he'd expected it to. He stared at his lap, eyes wide open, hair falling around his face like it had done that night. "There were voices, too, but.. they were friendly, they weren't bad. Not as bad as feeling them taken away from me. I.." He trailed off, then shook his head. Saying more was too hard right now.

Day 32: Sun Room (4th Shift)

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