damned_institute | Day 43: Arts & Crafts Room (4th Shift)

When Momo left Hitsugaya's side, she felt both relieved to be away from him and disappointed that the nurses had separated them. Either way, she felt like she was suffocating, that she had too much building in her mind with all this on top of the message she'd been given by the undead knight on that rooftop the night before. There was only one way for Momo to relieve the pressure.

After leaving a note on the board for Senna, Momo headed into the Arts & Crafts room. She was still in a lot of pain, but Hitsugaya's healing, though minor, did make it much less painful to hold things. Taking all of the special markers, she stood before the large white board and uncapped the lightest of the colors - yellow.

Save thyself.

Those words would echo in Momo's mind for a very long time. She had much to thank the knight for, the least of which was leaving her right arm relatively undamaged. She needed it for many things, being her primary hand, but right now she needed it for one thing.

Momo began to draw.

[reserved for Senna]

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"Oh, trust me. I've seen some things that...er. Aren't exactly common." The corner of Yukito's mouth twitched slightly at that, and he definitely sounded amused. All things considered, he ranked whatever this was a little lower on the "weird" scale than half the things in his life. Or, well, his life, considering the reason for his existence in the first place. "I can understand not wanting to seem different, though."

He paused for a moment, then cautiously ventured, "Is this maybe a, well, more recent development? Oh, but if you don't want to talk about it, that's okay, I don't want to pry," he quickly added, with a wave of one hand.

"Not...exactly?" Jamie fidgeted a little and marginally loosened his grip. The arm jerked in response, and he hurriedly clamped down on it again. "It - um. I had it for a while before I got here and it's just...gotten worse in the last couple of days."

He trailed off, eyes unfocussing briefly as his thoughts returned to the darkened room he'd been trapped in two nights previous, when this mess with his alter had started. He blanched, shook himself a little and flicked an uneasy glance Yukito's direction. "...but - yeah. Kinda...hard to adjust to," he finished in a subdued tone.

"Well, it's. Complicated." That only began to sum it up, but. "And if I tried to explain I'd probably sound just a crazy as they like to say I am." Yukito offered a somewhat rueful smile and shrugged, straightening up to pull another sheet of paper over toward himself.

He paused, though, when he caught sight of Jamie's expression. "Although things did, er, get worse after I'd been here for a few days. Things like that sometimes happen around here," he replied, with perhaps a hint of concern.

It was likely that he was just jumping to conclusions, but he couldn't be certain.

Jamie regarded Yuktio guardedly for a moment or two. "...you too, huh," he commented quietly. "Got worse here, I mean."

He had a feeling Yukito might be alluding to the kind of 'treatment' Jamie himself had gone through the other night - that kind of thing went on here every night, didn't it? He didn't know exactly what condition of Yukito's had worsened and wasn't sure if he should ask - if the other teen's treatment had been anything like Jamie's, it probably wasn't the sort of thing he'd want to revisit in any detail. Jamie chewed his lip for a moment before speaking again, hesitantly.

"It's - it kinda feels like they're trying to make us more crazy here," he said. "Or make us think we're crazy, anyway, with the drugs and the - the treatments and everything."

His wrist twitched again.

All right, so maybe he hadn't been entirely off-base with his guess. The concern only increased in Yukito's slight frown, and he folded his arms on the table in front of himself as he regarded the young man thoughtfully. "I did. About a week ago, the night after the last trip into town."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his weight on his elbows as he considered the comment. "Maybe they just want to make us so miserable here that we'd be willing to accept the false life rather than stay," he suggested, with a quiet sigh. "It would fit the evidence, I suppose."

Jamie frowned and shook his head. "...I don't think they want us to accept anything," he said. "I think they just - wanna make us miserable, make us question everything, and that's the only reason they're keeping us here." His expression darkened; he looked almost - angry.

"Admitting we're crazy when we're not, or accepting what they tell us about our lives or whatever - that's not going to fix the problems they give us while we're here," he said. "The stuff that they do during th - in those...experiments. At night. Those aren't gonna disappear if they let us go."

Wild Eagle, silent for the past few moments, suddenly rose to the forefront of Jamie's consciousness, spewing fury. I'm not a damn DISEASE that needs t'be CURED, YOU ASSHOLE, he snarled. The force of his rage made Jamie physically recoil, his entire body tensing now rather than just his arm. Stop talkin' about me like I'm just some problem you hafta put up with!

Day 43: Arts & Crafts Room (4th Shift)

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