Day 44: Intercom, Dawn

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

Instead of the incessantly cheery voice of a man or machine, the first sound heard over the morning intercom broadcast was a loud and painful gasp.

"Dr. Landel!" was the next thing, in a much different, much more feminine voice. It might have taken the patients a couple of groggy seconds to realize that, despite the uncharacteristic surprise and worry, it was Head Nurse Lydia's. "My god– are you–?"

"I'm–" came the Head Doctor's voice, hoarser than usual, and filled with a quality that wasn't usually present during his upbeat announcements or nighttime tirades. He took a deep breath.

"I'm fine– he–"

"I know," said Lydia, and her voice seemed to have lost most of its emotionality and gone back to its usual professionalism. "Would you like me to take you to the medical wing, sir?"

"No, no, I'm fine, and... damn thing's still under construction, isn't it?" He laughed weakly. "Contractors are so... unreliable..."

He trailed off, as if realizing that the intercom switch was flipped on. However, instead of rushing to try to cover himself up, he instead sighed and the volume of his voice increased, as if he'd leaned closer to the microphone.

"Hello, everyone. I am... truly sorry for the interruptions to our daily schedules these last couple of days, and I only hope our staff has handled the changes with all the professionalism they should."

He paused.

"Breakfast this morning is french toast. Usual sides, drinks, and fruits. I hope to speak to you again soon."

After a few shaky tries, the intercom clicked off.

[ Any stragglers from the last application cycle who chose to introduce their characters during this dayshift may do so now. Please post your character waking up in a comment in response to this post with their room number as the subject line. Once awake, you may move them to breakfast. Thank you! ]

Comments

M113

[straydoghowl.livejournal.com]

The first thing that Haine noticed when his eyes opened were the white walls. Images screamed through his brain, of blood marring the absolutely whiteness of the room. He could hear a voice in the back of his head for a second, muttering unintelligible nonsense at him. He ignored it, blocked it out, rubbed his eyes. The florescent lights were already giving him a headache, and he squinted against them.

Where the fuck am I? he wondered. He'd been at the church, with that idiot partner of his. Nill and that annoying chick - what was her name...Naoto, that was it - Nill and Naoto had gone to the back to do whatever girly thing, and then...

And then this? That didn't make any goddamn sense. Haine was used to gaps in his memory, but this was just ridiculous. He'd been fucking sitting right there. And what the hell was this place, anyway? Looked like some kind of hospital. But there wasn't any medical equipment, and he hadn't been hurt. Of course he hadn't been hurt; his injuries just healed up, like always. If this was Badou's idea of a joke, he was seriously in for some pain. Haine hated hospitals.

He climbed out of the bed and looked around for his guns. There was no sign of them. Or his clothes, for that matter. That was bizarre. He finally looked down and noticed the huge ass smiley face on his shirt. And what was this, some kind of fucking sweat suit? Okay. This had to be Badou's doing. No one else was this lame. No one else could possibly be this lame.

He was just getting ready to storm the fuck out of there when the door opened, and a woman appeared. She was obviously a nurse, but that didn't matter. The albino stopped in his tracks and stared at her. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck just starting to rise. What did she want? He wasn't injured. He wasn't sick. He didn't need a goddamn motherfucking nurse. He needed out of here, and out of this tiny room with this woman blocking the door and...

"Oh, Alex. You're awake. Well, come on then, sleepyhead, it's time to mingle with the other patients."

Haine wasn't impressed with her sugar-coated sweetness. She was so fake, she practically smelled like plastic. But she was still a woman, and he didn't want her anywhere near him.

"My name is Haine," he growled at her. What the fuck was "Alex" anyway? Some kind of mixup? It sure wasn't funny, and he sure wasn't laughing.

The nurse looked concerned. "You've probably been through a lot," she said, "but you'll recover from your confusion soon. There are many patients here who believe things that simply aren't true. Your name is Alex Lindemann, dear, and this is Landel's Institute. Together, we're going to get you back out into society, and you'll be good as new!"

What. The. Fuck.

He'd never heard of any Landel's Institute, and his goddamn name was Haine Rammsteiner, regardless of what Nurse Plastic Pants told him. Something was seriously, seriously screwy about this. It couldn't have been Badou's doing, then. That, in and of itself, sucked. It was easy to know whose face to beat in if it was just some joke. But he was getting the feeling that this wasn't a joke. Somehow, he was stuck in this place with this fake ass name and this lame ass sweat suit. Not to mention that the nurse was still standing there.

He tried to smile back at her, but it looked skeletal, dangerous. Like he cared.

She didn't seem fazed by Haine's half-crazed look. Instead, she returned the smile. "There we go, Alex! Come on, you don't want to be late for breakfast!" She turned, motioning toward the door.

This was going to get worse before it got better. He could just tell.

[gavemyword.livejournal.com]

Zoro woke up with a shudder and a sigh, his heart and mind racing as the adrenaline drained out of him. He breathed in short gasping breaths, feeling a phantom pain lingering fretfully in his limbs. The feeling eased off into a dull pounding between his eyes, with that too eventually tapering off until he ceased to feel pain entirely.

Black eyes snapped awake, groggy in their usual manner.

“Is it morning already?” Zoro mumbled, his customary greeting in the face of daylight. Putting a hand to his head, he sat up, feeling the rush of blood in his body and the foreign feeling of being clean. It seemed so long since he’d last been free of the blood and grime of battle; the reality, he knew, was that it had barely been half a day since he last bathed.

It was bright out, the light bringing to mind the last time he'd seen... light... shadows... body disintegrating in the morning light... KUMA! The swordsman shot up in bed, legs moving fast, his bare feet connecting with the cold floor even before he was more than half conscious. The Shichibukai was nowhere to be seen but the bare institutionalized look of the room gave Zoro an idea of where he was and what could have happened while he was asleep.

He was obviously on land or one of those huge Marine battleships that could sail through the Calm Belt; the ground was solid under his feet as he took a few careful steps toward the door. His arms weren't shackled, which was good, but his swords weren't in the room, which was bad.

What happened? They'd made a deal goddamnit. He'd trusted that fucking bear to keep his word. It was possible they'd only taken him, maybe even left Luffy alone since even he was still alive... and feeling a lot better than he thought he would, to be honest.

Flexing his hands, he noted the complete absence of pain. Even the normal straining of his muscles, the usual product of an unnaturally hard battle, ceased to be, almost like he and his nakama hadn't just fought Oz mere minutes or hours ago. Whoever healed him was good; even Chopper couldn't get results that quickly.

Zoro observed the door half-heartedly, knowing it was locked and that he’d just have to break through it if he wanted out. Why a door, he wondered, and not bars. Oh well, that would make it a lot easier; the door didn't even look like it was made of sea stone. Squaring his shoulders, Zoro prepared to break through the door, ready to encounter something at the other end.

If any of his nakama were around, locked up as well, then Kuma had breached contract. It was bad enough that he’d been taken captive even after that ordeal with the Nikyu Nikyu no Mi user; if he’d somehow become the victim of a loop-hole... He wouldn’t normally worry, but with the crew in the state they were in at that time. And who knew how much time had passed since then? His stomach knotted tightly in his gut. Zoro breathed in, once, and charged forward…

Only for the door to swing open on its own. A large man stood in the doorway, blocking all access to the other side. Pressed against the white uniform, Zoro looked up slowly, irately wondering who the hell the man was and how best to dispatch of him. But, quicker than Zoro thought was possible, he found himself being restrained by the large hands.

“No need for violence Mr. Hunter,” the man grumbled. Through narrowed eyes, the swordsman could detect a hint of something, like a force behind the man himself.

Disliking the grip the man had on his arms, Zoro pulled them back. The man let them go without a struggle, but it was obvious that he was keeping a close eye on the pirate. He didn’t look like a Marine, but there was a hint of authority behind his body language. Zoro stared straight at him, sharp eyes a hint closer to glaring.

After a moment of staring, the larger man gestured out the door, his threatening aura receding for the moment. “Breakfast. Now.”

The non-hostile initiative to leave the room surprised Zoro but he tried not to show it. The only indication that he’d been caught off guard at all was the slight quirk of an eyebrow, and the downward turn of his lips. Slowly, casually, but most definitely cautiously, he excited the room wondering what he would find at “breakfast”.