damned_institute | Day 43: Intercom, Evening

Hello! I.R.I.S. here once more to announce to you, our honored guests, that you have officially made it through a day of our typical Landel's treatment. Of course, it isn't quite over: we will now have you retire to our designated patient quarters with one of your agency partners to inspect their sleeping area and the tools that we provide them with for the true bulk of our behavioral testing. On an added note, we would like you to notice once again that the meals we provide to our subjects are of the highest quality.

For those of you feeling apprehensive about taking part in our more intensive methods, please be aware that we would never imagine putting all of you in any danger whatsoever. This last shift will be your last at our Institute; afterward, we will escort you to our Head Doctor's personal observation station to survey some of our test Next-Wave participants in the rigorous trials we put them through – all for their betterment, of course.

Once again, we hope that you are satisfied with what you find, and as always, direct any questions you may have to your console.

The nurses began to escort the patients to their rooms. They didn't even seem to be brought to awareness by words such as "testing" and "subjects."

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. (Find all of the newly changed room assignments and shift introductions here.) If you are introducing your character during this shift, you may either choose for them character to wake up before their roommate gets back, or after. ]

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Someone who let his guard down: Homura's first impression of his roommate wasn't entirely a favorable one. He knew well that many who were brought to the Institute weren't warriors, and that those people could be valuable resources regardless. It was simply that Homura got along better with fighters, generally. At the very least, they tended to understand his methods and motivations a bit better.

This person also seemed eager, if his smile was any indication. Quick to fluster, quick to put at ease. Not always the best for keeping a secret, but Homura had enough encounters with the type not to sign off on the man just yet. After all, if he hadn't known just what Son Goku could do, even Homura might have been fooled.

"Homura." He didn't offer anything more than that. Homura wanted to see how closely the new-but-not-new Kibitoshin read the bulletin. He had a feeling that if his roommate did recognize the name, it wouldn't be hard to tell. Taking a seat at his desk, Homura ignored his dinner for the moment, favoring the conversation instead. "So you've been here long enough to learn the basics, correct?"

Homura? A fleeting troubled look flitted across the Kaioshin's face. Somewhere, buried deep within the murky depths of Kibitoshin's memory, a small, lone bell was ringing. He was sure he'd heard that name before, but trying to remember where was more difficult that it should have been. They hadn't met before, that was for sure, but...?

Oh, well. It would come to him at some point, he was sure of it, and it was probably rude to stand there frowning like that anyway. Especially when he'd just asked him a question. He nodded quickly, replacing the smile. "Uh-huh. I've got most things down already, although I'm still getting used to all of this," he answered, gesturing vaguely around the room with one hand. Homura, meanwhile, didn't look as though he'd have trouble adjusting to anything short of a nuclear explosion.

There was a tentative pause. That name really was so familiar to him. Eventually, he plucked up the courage to spring the question, making a good impression be damned. "... um... I'm sorry, this is probably going to sound really stupid to you, but, ah... are you with the clubs here? Or something?"

There was some recognition, but not an actual connection. Homura would tell the man eventually if he didn't remember. It was far better to have whatever response would come be contained to their room than plastered on the bulletin in glitter. For the moment, however, the demi-god let Kibitoshin ponder the question on his own.

"That's good. And it can be hard to adjust." Those first few days after his experimentation had been difficult, but not for the same reasons Kibitoshin would likely cite. But Homura had also had people like Kenren and Okita there for him after the prison took his memory. He likely wouldn't have survived without them.

Kibitoshin was thinking again, and this time, he seemed brave enough to come out with it. Homura's grin widened a touch as the other man just barely missed the mark. "I am. I'm the leader of the History Club."

Now to see just what reaction that caused: History wasn't known for its mercy or its kindness. Perhaps Homura's position would help him learn the most about Kibitoshin's personality, and his willingness to achieve what he wanted.

"The History Club?" Kibitoshin echoed, head to one side. This time the traces of recognition laced into his expression were still there, but when it came to any real knowledge he was decidedly lacking.

Still, he tried his best to remember- the last thing he wanted to do was give the impression he was simple. Even though he kind of was. But there was no reason to let Homura know that. A vague image of a notice listing all the clubs and their pinwheeled through his memory. Why couldn't they just have picked names that fit with their goals?!

Surprisingly, it only took a second for something important to come to mind. Wasn't the History Club the one dedicated to... um... revenge? In all honesty, Kibitoshin still wasn't entirely sure how he felt about the idea of revenge. Killing Bibidi didn't exactly weighed heavily on his conscience, but in the occasional wistful moment he couldn't help but wish he'd caught himself first. The universe hadn't mourned the wizard's death, that was true, yet almost straight away his son had leapt up to take his place and the problem had started all over again.

Homura was probably expecting an answer. He chose his words carefully, remembering his manners- even if the man did seem to take a worrying level of enjoyment from watching for a reaction, that didn't mean he was going to be rude. "O-oh. The leader, huh? That must be pretty rough"

"Sometimes." Though Homura had no intention of telling Kibitoshin about any specific trials, he did offer that much of a reply. It was obvious that his roommate was straining, however, so Homura decided to take over the conversation a bit. "It's earned me an enemy or two. So it might be wise to not tell anyone that I'm your roommate, or our room number. It'd be unfortunate if you were caught in the crossfire." And even moreso if Kibitoshin was the one who enabled it in the first place.

Homura paused then, eating a bit of his dinner while he gave Kibitoshin time to absorb the message. Once he was satisfied that it had indeed taken hold, the demi-god again looked at his roommate. "Have you found a group to travel with at night? What happened last night was a first, but the halls are still dangerous. You shouldn't go out alone."

Thankfully, Homura seemed to notice just how badly Kibitoshin was floundering (speaking of which, had Dory managed to find help?) and take pity on him. It was probably a good thing, too. Awkward silences were just plain awful.

Less encouraging was the potential for an attack of some sort, which he seemed to be implying was rather likely. He blinked, eyes widening. "You... really think so? I won't tell anyone, I swear," he promised passionately, knocking a fist against his chest. No matter what kind of person he turned out to be, he didn't want to see Homura hurt- not to mention himself- because of a silly mistake. "Kaioshin's honour!"

Momentarily breathless from sincerity, he took a moment to actually breathe so that he could answer the next question properly. "I'm meeting someone tonight. We're looking for a friend."

Day 43: Intercom, Evening

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