Sangamon Taylor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
toxicspiderman) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2009-04-09 05:01 pm
toxicspiderman) wrote in damned_institute2009-04-09 05:01 pm
Entry tags:
- adelheid,
- aidou,
- blitzwing,
- blue beetle,
- claude,
- daniel jackson,
- depth charge,
- edgeworth,
- edward elric,
- frey,
- guy,
- homura,
- junpei,
- keman,
- kenren,
- kio,
- leon magnus,
- lockdown,
- nataku,
- nigredo,
- okita,
- ren,
- ronixis,
- s.t.,
- sam winchester,
- sanzo,
- scar (tlk),
- schuldig,
- scourge,
- snake,
- sora,
- teisel,
- the doctor,
- the flash,
- the scarecrow,
- wesker,
- willy wonka,
- xigbar,
- yohji,
- zex
Day 40: Greenhouse [Fourth Shift]
Most days, fish and chips (and a cold beer or three) was pretty goddamned high on S.T.'s list of perfect expense-account lunches. Today, the idea of picking at greasy hunks of unidentified bottom-feeder odds-and-ends (politely known as scrod, to the delight of teenagers all across the Northeast) didn't appeal.
He begged off and collapsed into his bed, after using his damp shirt as an excuse to surreptiously check the contents of his closet. Bingo. His nurse watched his little show, unimpressed but (more importantly) unsuspicious. Not that his hairy chest was much of a catch today, pale and sweating from fever. At least she didn't tuck him in.
The intercom woke up up right on schedule, and pulling the sheets back over his head almost won. But a handful of unanswered missives and a vague sense of duty dragged him out to the bulletin, and from there it was easier to stagger over to the greenhouse.
It was warm inside -- a deep, humid warmth that actually penetrated to the aches in more joints and muscles than he could remember the names of. Like a sauna, without the hassle of finding someplace to look that wasn't a mound of pasty middle-management cellulite. Or a sweat lodge, without the opposite hassle of being conscious that he was the only white guy in the room. In fact, besides the nurses in holding patterns, he was the only person in the room.
He located a tray of tomato seedlings going rootbound in their tiny six-packs, and a potting bench whose location was a quick-and-dirty approximation of equidistantly far from anything blooming. He assured his nurse he knew what he was doing, and after a couple of successful repottings, gently sliding the little seedlings out and loosening the tangled roots, she seemed to agree and backed off. It was, by far, the most fucking theraputic thing he'd found in this hellhole so far, and he let himself sink into the rhythm of the task.
[Free!]
He begged off and collapsed into his bed, after using his damp shirt as an excuse to surreptiously check the contents of his closet. Bingo. His nurse watched his little show, unimpressed but (more importantly) unsuspicious. Not that his hairy chest was much of a catch today, pale and sweating from fever. At least she didn't tuck him in.
The intercom woke up up right on schedule, and pulling the sheets back over his head almost won. But a handful of unanswered missives and a vague sense of duty dragged him out to the bulletin, and from there it was easier to stagger over to the greenhouse.
It was warm inside -- a deep, humid warmth that actually penetrated to the aches in more joints and muscles than he could remember the names of. Like a sauna, without the hassle of finding someplace to look that wasn't a mound of pasty middle-management cellulite. Or a sweat lodge, without the opposite hassle of being conscious that he was the only white guy in the room. In fact, besides the nurses in holding patterns, he was the only person in the room.
He located a tray of tomato seedlings going rootbound in their tiny six-packs, and a potting bench whose location was a quick-and-dirty approximation of equidistantly far from anything blooming. He assured his nurse he knew what he was doing, and after a couple of successful repottings, gently sliding the little seedlings out and loosening the tangled roots, she seemed to agree and backed off. It was, by far, the most fucking theraputic thing he'd found in this hellhole so far, and he let himself sink into the rhythm of the task.
[Free!]
no subject
"No, she didn't seem interested in the others... she didn't react at all when my Teisel attacked her. Like he wasn't there." ZEX kept poking his hairball, then blinked a bit with a realization. "Perhaps it's because I'm not human? Maybe she felt a kinship with me as a result... that other person on the board who said they'd seen her, they said they were a..." ZEX could remember how the word they'd used was spelled, but had no idea how to pronounce it... well, he'd just have to say it and hope for the best. "A SHI NAG AMI? My apologies if I got that wrong, I'm not familiar with the word and I've only seen it written. But that means they aren't human either."
ZEX looked at Sam with a bit more curiously now. "Are you human?"
no subject
Sam started to ask if there seemed to be a reason why she'd, well. Reached into his mouth because ghosts tended to have a reason for the things they did, however screwed up that reasoning might be, but ZEX threw him another curve ball when he spoke up next. His brows furrowed. Shi nag—
"Shinigami?" he said, somewhat incredulously. As in, death personified? As in a reaper? What the hell was a goddamn reaper doing wandering around here? Then again, there'd been the goddess from this morning, but still. A reaper? Reapers weren't visible to the living. If it was here at the institute, though, then obviously people could see it.
Unless they were all dead?
At this point, that was as good a theory as anything. It'd sure as hell explain why Dean was here in a way that made more sense than a miraculous resurrection. Sam wasn't really sure if he wanted to take the notion of a miracle like that at face value or not.
Well, no. He wanted to. He just...didn't know if he could bring himself to do so. Sometimes it felt like he was only setting himself up for another round of Oops, just kidding, we're taking him away again.
And Christ, this was the second time in less than two hours someone had asked him that exact some question. The irony was almost overwhelming.
There was a split second of hesitation, barely noticeable. "Yes," he said, and it felt as if he were lying as much to himself as he was to ZEX.
For a second or two, he was silent before he felt an almost desperate desire to move the conversation away from himself and his level of freak. The question did give him an opening to bring up something he'd wanted to know from the start.
"Can I ask what you are, exactly, if you're not human?"
no subject
He wasn't really in the mood to think about that though. "But yes, I think that's what they wrote. They also said something about spirits and death, although I'm not sure if I believe any of it... I've always taken a more personal stance on such things." Besides, it made it more difficult for the Creator to punish him for crimes against nature if their existence depended on whether or not ZEX believed in them.
Sam's answer shot a hole through his theory though. There might have been some thread uniting all the people she'd visited, but maybe it was something only obvious to her. And possibly irrelevant in the end, since ZEX was the only one who seemed to appreciate her attention anyway.
"Did I not mention that?" ZEX laughed a little. "I usually include it in my introduction, although almost no one here has heard of us... I'm a VUX, a species native to Beta Luyten, although I no longer reside there." Not entirely by choice, but no need to mention that just yet. "I don't suppose you've heard of us?"