damned_institute | Day 41: Breakfast

Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute.

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes, not sitting up just yet. He could tell already that his torso had been heavily bandaged, even more so than it had been the night before. The cuts on his arms were covered with fresh bandages, and the one on his cheek seemed to no longer be there at all.

Endrance had been expecting to wake up in a lot of pain, but even that seemed numbed. "They must have given me something," he murmured quietly, as he slowly sat up.

At that moment, his nurse came to get him, pushing a wheelchair along with her. "Peyton, dear, good morning. I've come to take you to breakfast, so..." He shook his head. "I'm fine. There's no need for that...I can walk perfectly well."

She sighed. Well, if he insisted, she wasn't going to stop him. She motioned for an orderly to take the chair away, and walked him to the cafeteria. Once they had gotten there, she pointed him toward a seat, then set a full tray of pancakes covered with syrup, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice in front of him. "Now eat all of that, Peyton, or else you won't be strong enough to keep walking like that."

He glared at her back as she walked away, then stopped suddenly. There was that faint pulse he'd felt the night before...it was exactly the same.

And so he completely ignored his food in favor of staring at the cafeteria doors, looking at every patient that came in.

[thread will be closed to Haseo. ♥]

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Miles nodded - now that the momentary lapse of whatever that was had passed, and Phoenix was explaining it further, the idea made more sense. He still wasn't sure what he thought of it, not immediately, and hummed into his juice glass as he mulled it over, the gears in his brain spinning into motion. When he spoke, it was in his usual tone, the one that indicated his own brain was going ahead.

"So what you're saying," he began, a smirk coming over his face, "is that I'll work the contacts and connections I have above ground, and you'll do what you can in the shadows." He nodded then, breaking out his journal and a pen and moving his tray aside to make room for them.

"I've got some meetings scheduled for later today which I expect to be productive. I'll keep those, and at the same time, keep pulling in what information I can regarding the future occurrences. You're right to put some distance between it, but - and you'll forgive me - I've also got a vested interest in what happens, considering. But I'll consider that a separate idea for now. Either way, I'm meeting with the younger of the two Gavins and a very talented young Japanese detective this afternoon, so I'll see what I'm able to do with it. I'd still like to keep him on our side, as much as is possible. I don't know how much family dynamics will play into the whole thing, but it's worth trying. As well, I'll be meeting with the young man who has been organizing so much information on the bulletin board. I'm hoping that will turn into another set of useful contacts that I can draw on.

As I said, I'll also run interference with Franziska. She's more likely to listen to me than anyone other than her father, and I'll just hope that I'll have gotten to her first. She's in deep denial about this place right now, so whatever happens when that denial breaks is what will ultimately set her path."

He scribbled down notes as he spoke, then looked up at Phoenix again. "As for the bulletin. I normally sign with my initials, but perhaps something of a code is in order there, as well?"

Busy man. Phoenix looked on with a noticeable lift of his eyebrows, watching Edgeworth's pen fly across the page. He wondered if he wasn't playing right into somebody's hands, going off on his own and running in parallel. Safety in numbers seemed to be a rule at Landel's, with all of its clubs and those mysterious spots of isolation that apparently preceded disappearance. Still, a lot of his current projects were dead ends, or at least so extremely long-term in scope that he couldn't focus on them alone.

"It might not be a bad idea. Something random, though - I don't know how well anyone from the future knows either of us, so anything too symbolic seems risky." He pulled out his own journal, copying the list Edgeworth had just given him quickly. There were a few things that interested him in that lineup, among them not only another detective, but the guy from the bulletin. The confession he'd made to the general population not too long ago had interested Phoenix, more than a little because of what it meant that both of them might be capable of. He glanced up from scribbling names, chuffing a half-laugh. "You have your chance to suggest something before I start spouting fictional characters."

"I'm not suggesting that you isolate yourself completely," Miles said, catching that raised eyebrow. "In fact, I'd almost say talking to certain people that I know would be beneficial for you. When you can, you may want to speak with M. Javert - I've worked with him on more than one nightshift, and spoken with him outside that. He's gone through the experiments and is the one that collected the evidence, so. I suspect you would also get along with the detective himself, Naoto Shirogane. I was quite impressed by him, and I'd love to see him working for us once we're out of here." The last sentence was accompanied by a grin and a light laugh.

"As for a set of code names...it may seem almost too obvious, but occasionally the especially obvious names go unnoticed. Holmes and Watson?"

Another name for the list, then, and a quick strike through the previous 'detective?' followed by an attempt at the name that Edgeworth had rattled off with such enviable ease. "Japan seems like it has its fair share of competent detectives," he agreed, setting down his pen. Not that he knew much about Matsuda's work, but he'd been friendly and easygoing enough, had a good grasp of causality, and didn't seem like a pathological liar or borderline insane. That was more than Phoenix could say for some of the detectives he'd seen back at home.

"It's not that obvious. I mean, neither of us is a doctor or a detective." He finished off his juice, as he lowered the glass arching a dark eyebrow and briefly grinning around its rim. "And wasn't Holmes celibate, anyway?"

Edited 2009-05-14 22:36 (UTC)

"It does," Miles agreed. "They could certainly share a lot with the LAPD. Perhaps once we're back home, I'll have words with the new chief of police about the possibilities of bringing a few in to shore up the ranks," he said, grinning a little. "We could certainly use a few more competent detectives, that's for sure." He put his pen down, settling his hands on the table for a moment. "That's not particularly here nor there, just a thought."

He started to pick up his juice glass, but that quip made him glad he hadn't gotten around to actually taking a sip, because had that happened, said juice would have wound up making a mess. "Okay, you have a point there. Your turn for suggestions, Mr. Literary Critic?"

Phoenix chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, I like it. For once in my life, I'll come out and say that inconsistency is good- in this case, at least." Never mind that the last contradiction he'd pointed out wasn't something that he imagined most of the populace would know was a contradiction here and now, anyway. He didn't count Godot and his numerous quips. The prosecutor would say anything to get under his skin. "It works."

"Anyway, now that that's settled - and I'm taking it for granted that you want to be the untouchable, flawless one and being sentimental is my job-" he interjected, smirking a little with the jab. "What else can you tell me about Wesker?"

"Well, we could reverse it just to confuse people further, but." Edgeworth grinned back, then nodded. "Okay. The short version is that he waltzed into the room last night like he owned the place. Now, that, I could handle. What really triggered the warning bells is the fact that he immediately launched into lines of dialogue that sounded like he knew way too much about what was going on, and going on to imply that the same things that are happening in those experiment rooms are happening outside, in each of our home worlds. It was a level of knowledge beyond what I've heard any other patient say."

He paused for just a moment. "He explained it by saying that he had been working against that kind of organization before, but I'm not entirely sure that I buy it completely. Just be careful, all right?"

Edited 2009-05-15 14:08 (UTC)

Day 41: Breakfast

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