"RYUUZAKI" (L - Death Note) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ryuuzaki) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2009-09-30 05:12 pm
ryuuzaki) wrote in damned_institute2009-09-30 05:12 pm
Entry tags:
- abe sapien,
- alfred,
- allelujah,
- argilla,
- asch,
- brainiac 5,
- edward cullen,
- faize,
- harley,
- howl,
- l,
- leonard,
- lockdown,
- lunge,
- meche,
- mele,
- peter petrelli,
- pied piper,
- porky,
- rolo,
- scar (tlk),
- schuldig,
- sechs,
- sho,
- suzaku,
- sylar,
- tenpou,
- tenzen,
- teresa,
- the flash,
- the scarecrow,
- two-face,
- tyki,
- venom,
- yue,
- zex
Day 44: Arts and Crafts Room, 4th Shift
The day had been slow for L so far, slower than he required: the events of the previous night were traumatic, but they did not outweigh his need for information and a useful way in which to apply whatever he might learn.
When the nurse shepherded him from the cafeteria, through the Sun Room, and over towards the door of the Arts and Crafts Room, he experienced a small internal wince: this was the room where it had happened the night before. Unpleasant, yes, but likely to be irrelevant in terms of my own welfare, except in terms of what I can learn from it, he reminded himself.
He had the impression that he could avoid the room if he wanted to, but there were several convincing reasons to push past his reluctance: his meeting with Lunge was necessary, the opportunity to see the room in more usual circumstances might be valuable, and he did not want the staff to see that he had been affected. He wasn't sure how they were tied to the events of the previous night, but the buzz of information around the Institute suggested some kind of strong connection.
As he stepped into the room, feet feeling imprisoned in the slippers that the staff kept insisting that he wear, he avoided the area where he had collapsed. Instead, he turned to the right and proceeded as far into the room as he could, then left, then took a seat in the back corner.
If the nurses pressed him to be more creative, he would take up painting. However, he expected to express his creativity in other ways.
[For Lunge.]
When the nurse shepherded him from the cafeteria, through the Sun Room, and over towards the door of the Arts and Crafts Room, he experienced a small internal wince: this was the room where it had happened the night before. Unpleasant, yes, but likely to be irrelevant in terms of my own welfare, except in terms of what I can learn from it, he reminded himself.
He had the impression that he could avoid the room if he wanted to, but there were several convincing reasons to push past his reluctance: his meeting with Lunge was necessary, the opportunity to see the room in more usual circumstances might be valuable, and he did not want the staff to see that he had been affected. He wasn't sure how they were tied to the events of the previous night, but the buzz of information around the Institute suggested some kind of strong connection.
As he stepped into the room, feet feeling imprisoned in the slippers that the staff kept insisting that he wear, he avoided the area where he had collapsed. Instead, he turned to the right and proceeded as far into the room as he could, then left, then took a seat in the back corner.
If the nurses pressed him to be more creative, he would take up painting. However, he expected to express his creativity in other ways.
[For Lunge.]
no subject
It looked like they'd moved away from the half-joking and onto more serious topics. While this was a lot more relevant, it was also the same old song and dance that Harvey had become too accustomed to over the past few days.
"Harvey Dent," he said, "and wow, you're well-mannered for someone your age." It was probably considered rude to say something like that, but Harvey was honestly shocked. First Edgar and his weird phrases, and now this? It was bizarre.
"This is my sixth day here," he reported. Jesus, almost a week. That was depressing, and yet he knew that he'd given people life sentences in the past. Then again, they didn't get sent here. Normal prisons weren't cakewalks, but they were nothing compared to this.
no subject
"Were your parents Batman fans?" he inquired, musing internally how unfortunate it was to have obtained that injury when combined with the name. "Unless you're not intentionally named after Two-Face." He hoped the other didn't find that offensive; humans were often quite sensitive about visible injuries, even if the extent of the damage was wholly conspicuous.
Even if it was simply a coincidence, the amount of time Harvey had spent here was commendable. More so, considering Edward was measuring the time with how he'd spent last night. "Nearly a week. It's good to know someone can last that long."
no subject
Batman, that was one thing. Maybe Edward was from Gotham or somewhere close enough to it that the name was well-known. He wasn't sure what his parents being fans of the vigilante had to do with anything, but maybe that was just babbling and the kid wasn't as stable as he'd originally seemed. But Two-Face -- that was a name that should have only been known by people who worked in the police force. Unless Edward was some officer's son, this didn't make sense.
Right now, the amount of time he'd spent in this place and how impressive that might be didn't matter. He barely even registered that comment, instead leaning into to give Edward a demanding stare.
"How do you know those names?" he asked, and his tone was like a string pulled taut.
no subject
It didn't take a telepath that see that it wasn't in a positive way, however. Though he couldn't "hear" the confusion behind Harvey's change of disposition, Edward felt it probably wasn't as casual a subject as he had intended. In fact, Harvey seemed rather shocked that he knew the names in the first place.
Logic dictated it should be common knowledge - even people that weren't comic book fans at least knew about Batman and his reoccurring villains. Joker, Two-Face, Catwoman... no, something was strange here. Trying to backpedal he said, "The names are so widely known, I just you assumed you were named after him. My mistake, it seems."
The vampire was only trying to cure idle curiousity, and if the subject seemed so... upsetting, then he had no interest in chasing it further.
no subject
But then it hit Harvey like a ton of bricks. Maybe this kid was from Jason's version of Gotham, the one where Two-Face had apparently been terrorizing the city for upward of five years. It was an inconsistency that he usually tried to forget about, although meeting someone else who knew of Two-Face meant that Jason was actually trustworthy.
Not completely trustworthy, obviously. But he hadn't been lying about that, at least.
At this point, he wasn't sure if he should own up to who he was or just let it slide. Edward didn't seem to be questioning him about his strong reaction, so in the end Harvey just shook his head. "It's fine," he murmured.
There was always the chance that the kid would go rushing off to the bulletin if he realized Harvey wasn't just named after Two-Face, so it would be best to just let it go.
He needed to get back to that earlier topic that he'd ignored. "Anyway, six days isn't even that long compared to some other people. You might want to get ready for the long haul."
no subject
If Edward owed the assassin for keeping his mouth shut about his true nature, it was time to pay up.
He had to end that conversation and distance himself as far away from the Admiral as possible before he felt even more sick than last night. It was well enough he wasn't sprinting to their table, though Venom would still have to agree how sad it was that he were willing to hide himself behind the vampire that tore his throat open in order to keep Admiral Zex away from him. Very, very sad.
"Excuse me." That was the only warning or even acknowledgment to the two men that he gave in his hurried rush to sit by Edward (perhaps his aura of "don't you say a word" was clear enough to them because he did not want to talk about this) and, as a result, block himself from Zex's view. He kept his head lowered as though that were explanation enough, half hoping his hair would slide from its place behind his ear to cover the disturbed and suddenly pale look on his face.
He was going to have to enforce those rules against fraternization once he returned to the Guild. That was it.
no subject
"It can't get any worse than last night," he added, albeit hopefully. If he was the superstitious kind, he would have knocked on the table to dispel Murphy's Law. "Dying puts a rather fatalistic view on things." At first he'd been hesitant to breach the subject with others, but after his conversation with Endrance and seeing the scattered messages on the board, it seemed the phenomenon was much more broad than the incident with his roommmate and Venom might have seemed -
- speak of the devil.
The new arrival's aura did speak more loudly than words (the addition of the man's surly body language helped as well), so Edward simply graced him with a nod and greeted him. "Nice to see you again." Turning back to Harvey, he swept a hand between them. "This is Venom," the vampire introduced him simply, as if that explained everything.
no subject
So here was someone else who had died from the non-stick wounds last night. Harvey still wasn't sure how he was letting that fact exist in his mind without letting it drive him crazy, but he'd been forced to hand wave so many different things since his arrival here. "Don't speak too soon," he said darkly. It was never a good idea to say that things couldn't get worse, since there was a high chance that Landel's would try its hardest to prove them wrong.
Harvey was actually taken aback when another patient (dark-skinned, at that; he realized this man was one of the first non-Caucasians he'd seen here, which seemed very odd now that it had been brought to his attention) rushed over and sat down, looking very much like he just wanted the world to forget he existed. Harvey eyed the man in slight puzzlement before Edward explained. A friend of his, then.
"Right," he muttered, not sure there was much else to be said. The man didn't seem like he wanted to be spoken to, and Harvey knew how that felt well enough that he wasn't going to ignore it. Venom was hardly a normal name, but Harvey had come to expect code names and the like here.
no subject
It looked like whatever conversation the two men could have been having was stalled with his added presence, and he would have asked them to continue if it wouldn't seem rude and presumptuous. Instead, he just sighed again, burying himself deeper into his miserable pile of loathing.
He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to sit at an arts and crafts table with a man with half of a face and a vampire playing with glitter (if it hadn't been for how badly his head was hurting, he might have started laughing or at least cracked a smile at the sight of it) or be undressed by the eyes of disturbingly oblivious man. He didn't want to be imprisoned or away from the Guild and he didn't want to have to kill anyone for taking him away from the only meaning in his life.
But he was here and they would have to suffer the consequences for that.
He wasn't about to interrupt their discussion any more. He only swept his hair down to cover the rest of his face in order to think without the world watching. They could say what they wanted to.
no subject
"I don't see how it could get worse," Edward remarked, consciously trying to imagine how. He was humanized, trapped in a mental asylum, haunted by hallucinations of his dead mother, burned (and he had really lucked out on that - if he had had any open wounds at that time, he would have gone up in flames practically instantaneously), and then died a second time. "Well, I suppose the brainwashing isn't something to look forward to, either... I wonder if there's something behind the selection?" Musing out loud, he recalled that... girl's bulletin post. "I just wonder if the choice is randomized, since apparently it's a reoccurring event that cycles on a schedule."
And therein was the horrible part, he imagined. The patients knew it was coming (according, once more, to the board... Edward rather loathed having to rely on the information with no factual confirmation) and yet did not seem to be able to avoid it.
no subject
While Harvey wasn't sure if he could think of a way to top what they'd been put through last night, that didn't mean that Landel and his cohorts didn't have better imaginations than they did. It irked him just knowing that the Head Doctor might at this very moment be thinking of the newest way to torture them.
"I've heard that there's a schedule, but it doesn't really matter," Harvey said with a wave of his hand. "There's no way to stop it from happening, as far as I can tell, so your best bet is to hope that you're not interesting enough for them to poke and prod at." He had managed to avoid getting picked out so far, and he'd rather not speculate as to why that was.