damned_institute | Day 36: Intercom, Evening

The intercom's jingle rang out and the somewhat uninhibited movement that was going on between the main activity rooms halted as the Head Doctor made one of his usual announcements.

"Good evening everyone, and I'm very pleased to see so many of you in such high spirits after meeting with your loved ones! However, like with all good things, it can't last forever, so I ask now for nurses to escort our patients in the waiting rooms and in the main areas back to their rooms, where they will be treated with a special Sunday... steak! That's right: today, we'll be serving juicy, delicious steak with fries and cooked vegetables on the side – simple enough for everyone to like and good enough for everyone to thoroughly enjoy! (Our patients with specialized diets will receive their alternate meals, of course.) Our usual beverages are available, and for dessert, we'll be serving warm slices of apple pie.

"After all, patients, t's always wonderful to see all of you cooperating with the staff even when given so much freedom, so I'd like to personally thank and congratulate all of you for helping us, your family, and more importantly, yourselves. Hopefully, we can help you to a speedy recovery so that you can see your loved ones more often, but first... dinner! I hope to speak with you all again soon."

The intercom clicked off.

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. Thank you!

On an added note, just wanted to clarify to players of characters who are canonly vegetarians and the like that you get to decide (within reasonable and realistic limits) what kind of diet your character gets from the staff. :3 ]

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There wasn't really a lot that Kenren could say in response to that, or at least, not without sounding either insensitive or making cliche platitudes which meant nothing at all. He chose to remain silent instead. He passed over the knife and fork, hating having to ask someone to do this, but hell, his pride wasn't worth enough to not be able to eat.

"Right," he said, grinning rakishly at the other man. "If there's a way to make things right, to get them back, then we'll manage it. We'll get them back." It was easier to believe it when it was said aloud to encourage someone else.

Well, Zelnick obviously didn't mind, setting about cutting the steak into manageable chunks as he rambled on, "Though it would be nice if every open option didn't seem so incredibly dangerous, or if resources were more readily available, or if the night-to-night time constraints weren't so tight. But I guess that's how it goes, sometimes, and perseverance takes patience, too." He was rather obviously not putting much thought into his words, or rather just saying his thoughts as they wandered across his brain.

Kenren was content to let the other man ramble, just listening. It was kind of nice, just listening to someone talk without watching their words so carefully. He hated playing political games, having to watch what he said all the time, but even here, he still had cause to be diplomatic. "It's no good just focussing on that," Kenren said, a faint smile on his lips. "You'll go crazy. You need something to take your mind off things every so often. Even here."

"Heh, yeah. I've learned that lesson pretty well." He had spent five years doing this same kind of thing, after all, inactivity punctuated by bursts of violence and terror or scavenging for too-scarce resources. Granted, it was on a spaceship full of friends and allies and interesting aliens, and fighting giant carnivorous conquering space caterpillars, but it was at least slightly familiar. "And it could be far worse. At least there's some hope, some wriggle-room to get out of here, even if Landel has lots of control. It's a bad idea to let people have any opportunity at all, if you don't want them to take that and take a stab at their own goals." He held out the fork and laid down the knife, steak in neat bite-sized squares on Kenren's plate.

Unfortunately for that argument, Kenren was getting the distinct impression that they only had wiggle room because Martin Landel found it intensely amusing to see them, well, wiggle and gave them just enough leverage to be able to crush their hopes time after time. Not that it stopped his natural optimism, but he was starting to get bored of this game. And like hell he was going to depress anyone else with his thoughts. "Yeah. We have the chance to make our own choices here," he agreed cheerfully enough. "It'll just take a bit of time before we find the right loophole to take this place down." And then make what they could of this world. Or at least, that was his hope. He had nothing to go back for.

Zelnick wasn't going to look that particular gift horse in the mouth, not if he didn't have to, and he nodded brightly in agreement, moving back to his desk and dinner. "And with so many people working on it, even if we're just searching randomly, sheer probability means we'll find it eventually." And they'd have a better chance than those monkeys at their typewriters, at least.

Kenren took back his cutlery and started to eat, finding it much easier now that he didn't need to use both hands. You'd have thought that the nurses would have thought of cutting it up first, but he would rather someone he sort of knew did it, rather than having a nurse simpering and sympathising at him. "We just have to hope that we recognise it when it turns up," Kenren said thoughtfully. There was a good chance that their loophole wouldn't be obvious.

Day 36: Intercom, Evening

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