Day 43: Sun Room, 4th Shift

[euphemise.livejournal.com]

The late-afternoon sun filled the large, open Sun Room. It was almost enough to make you sleepy, Euphemia thought, as she walked in, brushing a little glitter off her shirt. She didn't particularly feel like she was up to much - the worrying about everyone had drained her, as much as she'd tried not to think too much about it.

With that thought in the back of her mind, she walked over towards the bulletin board. It looked like it was cleared off at the end of the day, because now it was filled with information. She made a note of the 'primer' post, then began copying the maps onto some paper she'd taken with her from the Arts and Crafts Room.

One more thing struck her, though - the idea of visitors. Was this what all the announcements about graduates were? She thought of the others then, and frowned, hoping that neither of them were going through anything like that today.

[reserved for the tallmore.]

Comments

[strayfag]

That took him by surprise, but the day Badou turned down a pack of smokes was the day Haine rubbed himself up against a pair of breasts and had a fucking orgasm. So he didn't bolt or give into the screaming at the back of his mind, he just sat facing forward now with his arms resting against his thighs. This shit he could deal with. He was a professional PI.

"What kind of information?" Badou asked, trying to sound skeptical. It was mostly real, but it had an edge of how many cigarettes are we talking here.

[sixtyeighth.livejournal.com]

Badou was indeed a professional PI, and Giovanni knew: that's why the next words out of his mouth were "You're a private investigator. You gather information for a living." The words slid off his tongue like they were a bad taste in his mouth. "Tell me what you know about this place. Surely you haven't abandoned your post as an investigator upon arriving here? If you've got notes, I'd like to peruse them."

[strayfag]

Information was easy enough to come by if you knew where to look. Renamon had everything he did and would be willing to part with it for no cost at all. The things they had managed to gather - transcripts, theories - didn't have any tactical value beyond knowing more-or-less what was going on. And as nice as that was? It didn't save your ass when you were flying down the hallways like a bat out of hell because, oh yeah, things were still going to eat you. So he didn't care much about keeping it a secret, even from Bowl Cut and his creepy ass stalker tendencies. Plus, free cigarettes. For once not a lose-lose situation.

"They're not with me," Badou paused. "But since I'm such a nice guy, I'll tell you what I remember. You owe me smokes."

He leaned back again, one arm - the uninjured one - hooked over the back of the couch. "This Iris thing only started today. A backup system or something. Supposedly the guy who's in charge of this place got killed by his boyfriend last night. There was a whole gay soap opera thing going on between them and some chick over the intercom and the radios. You can read up on it on the bulletin if you care." Badou waved his free hand, mostly because he didn't. "Anyway, the part that's relevant to us is we're supposed to be caught up someone else's war. We're experiments." He flashed Bowl Cut another grin. Don't you feel right at home? "Landel's working for this country's army. According to him he's found a way to steal people's 'abilities' and transfer them to himself or whoever the hell he wants. Great for him, but not much use to us. Even getting off the institute grounds at night doesn't mean you won't wake up here the next morning."

[sixtyeighth.livejournal.com]

"Of course," he replied, at the reminder of the cigarettes he owed; his tone came across as offended, as if he was surprised Badou would think he'd forget, but the tiny smile that flickered on his lips betrayed the fact that he was more amused than anything else. As Badou spoke, Giovanni listened, and while he made his body language as relaxed as possible, he was focusing intently, trying to remember every word Badou said.

Experiments were mentioned, and immediately Giovanni tensed. The drumming of his fingers across the arms of the chair ceased, and his expression darkened. This story was becoming uncomfortably familiar. He opened his mouth as if deliberating on saying something, but instead, he stood up, smoothed down his shirt, and told Badou "I'll have your cigarettes by tonight." Before he even finished speaking, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.