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
"You mean aside from dealing with the occasional idiot, trying to identify what you humans call food and having random expeditions during the night that turn out to be either unpleasant or outright useless instead of being some sort of benefit?" Scar paused, letting all what he had said sink in. "I'm afraid it is rather lacking in the 'interesting' department."
He wouldn't even consider bringing up whatever he had been up to, not that it had been too much aside from exploring the institute and the meeting with Mello. The rest of the nights here had been either wasted, unpleasant or simply spent asleep. It was rather frustrating, to be running around in circles without even the slightest result.
An investigation to the doors leading to the third floor sounded promising enough, even if it meant waiting patiently before others had collected the necessary materials and create this 'explosive'. Not that he particularly minded (lions were known to be a little on the lazy side after all), but he did hope this ZEX-character would indeed bother to contact him when they had managed. Even the hyenas back home were more reliable than this.
"How long have you been here, boy?" he asked for the sake of curiosity.
no subject
Most people struggled with the fact that they went out at night and attempted something and ended up failing; even Sora had that problem, so he wasn't surprised to hear it from Scar. If the lion-man was so upset about it, though, he could always just stay in his room. Then again, here he didn't have minions who could do his dirty work for him.
For once, Sora didn't hesitate when asked about the length of his stay. "It's been a little over a month now," he explained with a shrug, as if it wasn't a big deal. He knew that was longer than Scar had been around, but he hoped this didn't lead to the villain squeezing him for answers.
no subject
Unfortunately, the former lion definitely intended to squeeze answers out of the boy. One of the things wanted to know was how long this Landels Institute actually already existed. Another thing was what happened to the disappeared patients. Possibly it would give them more insight on why they were actually here.
Mello was going to investigate the files of the released ones, wasn't he? And now he had disappeared. Had he discovered something or was it mere coincidence? If it was the former, he had to wonder how much Landel actually knew about what they were doing. Him most likely knowing everything before coming here was uncomfortable enough as it was.
no subject
It was hard to say how many others had been around before that, and Sora wasn't sure he wanted to think about it too hard. Landel's might have even started up years ago, for all they knew. To think that Mr. Landel had put so many people through this painful situation was just terrible...
If Scar expected him to know a ton of stuff, then he was probably going to end up disappointed. Other than that one time when he had found the television with Renji and Nowe, Sora hadn't ever stumbled upon anything too interesting. He had known about the building change that Mello had been so curious about, but he wasn't sure if that had actually led to any discoveries.
no subject
Who would have thought he would have this discussion with some boy?
no subject
At least it looked like Scar had calmed down some. Sora still hadn't gotten much information out of him, but it wasn't like he could force the lion-man to tell him what was going on.
"Well, I guess that's all for today. I'll see you around." In other words, Sora would be keeping an eye on Scar if he could. That was easier said than done in this place, but still. The boy got to his feet and wandered off to meet a nurse.