damned_institute | Day 37: Sun Room

Joe had read some of the larger notes stuck up on the bulletin board when the announcement came on the intercom. All things considered, this Landel guy didn't even seem so bad. Even if these people were held here against their will, he was certainly nice about it.

Apparently, the new patients - including Joe - were to hang around in the Sun Room or go to Arts and Crafts with the kids. Well, there was plenty of information on the board, including maps and descriptions of monsters, for Joe to prepare for the nighttime, when he could seriously get going on fighting his way out. He could look for where the boss would probably be waiting, or where his V-watch might be, and figure out how to fight the monsters. In fact, he had plenty of time to work all that out... but this the first time he'd had to really relax since he got his powers. So it couldn't possibly hurt to enjoy the calm period, could it?

The red-head stepped back from the board, and hopped back onto a comfy-looking couch to digest in the sunlight. He reached up to pull his cap down, and sighed when he realized it wasn't there. "Oh well, nothing's perfect. I still wouldn't call this hell."

[free!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The man did well to portray himself as a normal human, and if his energy wasn't a bit off, Renamon would have believed it. As it was, she let it continue this way--she'd encountered ones before that found it necessary to hide what they were, and who was she to judge as one who didn't make it known she was a Digimon?

She brought her arms up, crossing them against her chest--which reminded her uncomfortably of how wet she still was. Her brows furrowed for a second, then smoothed away. "That's what some have said as well. But this place is far from a normal situation. There's nothing that will show you more than spending time in this place, and experiencing what it has to offer." She tilted her head slightly. "Either way, however, be it you believe me or not, tread on the safer safe. If you're not a fighter by nature, find someone who is to accompany you at night. Take note of your room number. If you know, or care about, someone here, watch them--people have a tendency to disappear here. And if you do decide to believe all this, I'd recommend you search for knowledge of this place over a way out."

She shook her head, her voice the same monotone. "There isn't one." Renamon looked back at him. "Check the Bulletin Board for needed information, and if you ever need anything feel free to contact me on it. Other than that, I suppose I'll simply wish you well. If this place was what it claimed, it would be a relief."

"Would it?" For a moment, Methos' mask slipped, just a little, enough to show something weary and ever so slightly bitter behind those mild eyes. He recovered swiftly enough that it could well seem nothing more than some trick of perception. "I've seen inside places similar to this. With some, the greatest difference between them and what you describe is that the monsters were entirely human."

He lowered his head, brow furrowing as he mulled over her words. "No way out. Is the perimeter that well guarded, then?" While slipping out of tight situations had always been a talent of his, it would be better to have some idea in advance of what he was up against, how much he'd have to plan, and how many people he would have to somehow rope into assisting.

To that end, he smiled slightly and continued, "Thank you. That's very kind. I don't know what assistance I can offer in return, but if you ever need anything translated..."

Hm. If it was anyone other than Renamon, his slip might have been missed, but she was a being that held to detail, especially details that told you about a person. It changed nothing, and she continued as if it never happened. "Ah, but it is the same here. You have Landel himself, who's the figurehead mastermind cackling over the intercoms at night, and the nurses themselves turn into monsters when dusk falls."

She allowed a small smile. "No, not at all. The walls are small and easy to climb; there's even a town close by. By regardless of how far you get in the duration of the night, once daylight comes, you'll wake in your bed."

Renamon politely nodded again. "I don't need anything in return; I'm just willing to assist when needed as long as I'm not busy... Information, items, assistence; I aquire things frequently. However, you will find that you won't get far using that as a bartering tool." Renamon hadn't put much thought in it herself; being a Digimon allowed her universal understanding of most languages, but nevertheless. "Supposedly all languages sound the same to everyone. There's a study currently going on, and it seems like it's been done before. There's no explanation of why, but it's accepted almost as fact."

Renamon thought a moment, then added, "Like I said before, if you aren't a fighter, there's three clubs you could join that sends you on missions and the like, in groups to protect. But if you are someone who can take care of themselves, you'd perhaps do better without. They seem to tend to focus on escaping. They don't seem to understand that this is simply a game to Landel."

That was peculiar. Though he wasn't certain to what degree he believed her information yet, Methos couldn't help but be intrigued by that puzzle. "Is there a specific sort of transition?" he asked. "Capture, or something that might be explained by a slow-acting toxin? Or do you simply awaken here in the morning without explanation?"

He allowed himself a rueful smile and a small chuckle. "It's likely the most marketable of my skills, I'm afraid. I'm a scholar. I'm good with research, good with puzzles, and good with languages." And with a number of other things, none of which Adam Pierson would know. People would notice if a 28-year-old historian showed a proficiency for swordsmanship, or medicine, or war. It was almost unfortunate, he thought, and some small corner of his mind turned toward devising a way to explain those skills if the uncanny descriptions turned out true enough to warrant their use. After a brief hesitation he added, almost as an afterthought, "I'm not a bad shot, but I doubt that will come in handy here."

He glanced toward the board, making a mental note to take a look at that study. Even if it was an odd delusion, it would be interesting.

He considered for a few seconds before adding, "I suppose no one's been kind enough to reveal the rules to this game? That discovering them, or trying to do so, is a part of it?"

"The latter," Renamon replied. "You awake with no explanation. It's very disconcerting at first. But it shows Landel's absolute control over our goings on. So escape should not be a focus.

"If you're good with puzzles or research, you may find yourself figuring out things here, or at least, giving a new perspective to what's already known. The self-proclaimed geniuses here have already put a few things together, things that might not have been noticed if they weren't pointed out. Like the languages, and the fact that time flows differently at night." She paused. "And you might find that coming in handy. People have a tendency to accrue weapons here--there's bows, and I've heard rumors of at least one gun, though I haven't seen it. There's mostly swords, and anything else people can put together."

Renamon made a small movement that might have been a shake of her head. "No. Which is one of the most frustrating points. If we knew how to play this game at least.... But we're stuck wandering around at night useless, attempting to learn things that may or may not matter in the end. There was one, however," Renamon added. "A man called Jack, or Alec Doyle, who died before I came here. He attempted to help through the radios in our rooms, gave hints, clues, and items... even answered a few questions when he finally made an appearance. But that man is gone. Someone's been trying to take his place, but she's a low-quality replica, and it's been hinted that she's not in as much control of her actions as it seems."

"Swords?" Methos repeated, giving her a slightly bemused look. It was this time a cover for definite discomfort; if there were others here who were skilled with the weapon, it was all the more important he recover his own as swiftly as possible. "Now that's unexpected. It's been some time since that form of combat was well-favored. At least in my experience."

He considered her words, eyes narrowing as he turned the situation over in his mind, considering the angles. It was difficult to determine anything quite yet, as he was uncertain how much was true and how much was paranoia, but that something was amiss was certainly solid fact no matter how things played out. "Still, that those rules are being kept secret tells us something on its own. Nothing good, but any information is valuable."

Day 37: Sun Room

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject