damned_institute | Day 45: Breakfast

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Day 45: Breakfast

Mori woke with a start. He lay on the bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling and sighed quietly. Another day, another round of shifts and people and-- Wait a minute. Breathing in carefully, Mori's brow knit together as he realized that his ribs were no longer broken. After testing his collarbone, he found that it, too, was healing faster than it should have. Not that he was complaining, but there was something odd about broken bones setting so quickly. Pushing himself up out of bed, the teen shook his head, knowing that he'd have another day or two of the sling and then he'd be free from it.

But more important than that was finding out how Mitsukuni was doing. The last thing he remembered was the bathroom and gathering metal. Since they were together at the end of the night, Mori was certain that Mitsukuni would be fine, but...well, he still liked to confirm such things with his own eyes. With the twins gone and Tamaki still missing, Mori didn't want to take any chances anymore. Especially not with the strange announcements this morning.

As usual, his nurse came to collect him and helped him into his sling. Then he followed her quietly into the cafeteria, taking notice of the unusually empty bulletin board. They really were cracking down on it already. Weird. Even weirder? For once, he was the first into the room. Picking up a tray, he pointed out what he wanted, making sure to take double of the pancakes (asking to keep them away from the sausages for now), double of the strawberry jam and biscuits, and an extra helping of fruit. To top it off? Milk. It'd help his bones mend. Hopefully.

Going to a nearby seat, Mori took a look around the empty room and shivered. Kind of eerie in here without anyone else but the nurses. Someone was certain to come sooner or later though, right? He hoped so at least.

[for Chihaya]

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Time slipped out of Lunge's grasp just as he was slipping four sandwich bags into his back pocket, and with it vanished the strange nighttime unreality of magical ninjas and monsters. There was something in that which unnerved him- the implication, perhaps, that for a period of time between night and day he was at the mercy of some unseen force- but he brushed it aside in favour of savouring his altogether more tangible successes. He had armed himself with both weapon and knowledge, and while the latter was obviously the more important, the former brought with it a satisfying sense of security. It wasn't quite a hand gun, but...

Now, to business. Perhaps Edgeworth would be less... occupied this morning. He entered the cafeteria- early, but not so early that he was the first to arrive. It wasn't easy to miss the head of silver-grey hair even from the doorway, and the seats either side of the man were tellingly unoccupied. There.

Lunge wasted no time in walking over and introducing himself. "Miles Edgeworth?" He smiled, then held out a hand. Of course it was. He was never wrong. "Inspector Lunge. It's a pleasure."

"Likewise, Herr Inspektor," Edgeworth said, standing and firmly returning the handshake. "I apologize for having to reschedule our prior meeting. I don't make a habit of doing such, so thank you for accomodating me." He sat back in his seat and took a sip of juice before continuing.

"I hope the past few nights haven't been too lively," he said. That was an intentional understatement; given the fact that his own bulletin notes to others had been opened and read, he didn't want to be too free with references to the nights. At least, not until he had a better idea of the censorship that was occurring.

"It's been about a month, in terms of institute days, that I've been here. I've seen a lot and experienced a lot - so how can I best share that?"

"It's fine. I imagine yesterday night was difficult for almost everyone." Unspoken: It was a useful opportunity to study you before hand. Thank you.

Lunge sat down, processing his secondary impression of the man seated before him. He was young, but not as young as many of the people he'd spoken to already, and certainly not as young as Lelouch had been. Edgeworth held about him the calm, airy authority of a man who knows he is right but felt at no great pressure to deign to explain why- make no mistake, he was most definitely a lawyer. It contrasted interestingly with the level of emotional dependence he'd witnessed the previous morning; a vulnerability that presumably wasn't easy to hide.

"I've survived," he said with the same automatic smile, even if there was no real humour behind his eyes. Presumably, Edgeworth would be used to a little cold formality. "There are several areas I've been looking into over the last two days; it might be best if we were to start there and move out from that, if there's anything you'd like to add."

With that, Lunge rested his right hand on the table, ready to take notes, and continued: "What can you tell me about Doyle, the previous radio host?"

"Indeed, it was, at least as far as I've been able to gather. There were very few people that were unaffected." There was an unspoken myself among them in that sentence.

Miles appreciated the calm professionalism the detective presented. It was a bit rare in this place, and tended to present itself more often - surprisingly often - within the younger members of the population. The next generation of detectives and law enforcement officials was certainly off to a good start, he mused, before nodding. "That's as good as can be expected here," he replied, nodding. There was none of his occasional sarcasm in the statement, as there might have been with someone else.

"Alec Doyle is the man's full name. He's presumably linked to the town of the same name, but due to the lack of historical documentation, it's been difficult to trace that connection as far as I'd like. Regardless...he has - and I'm hesitant at all to say 'has', given the complicated circumstances that surround him - what seems to be a long-running feud with the Head Doctor. That feud led to what we all assumed was his murder about two weeks back. The murder was announced over the intercom by Martin Landel himself; we had no reason to doubt its veracity."

He took a sip of juice, then continued. "The night before his death, he appeared to a group of patients in the library, providing weaponry, maps, and other objects. I regret I wasn't able to meet with him personally, but I've heard from a number of sources that he seemed to know too much about the inner workings of this place. It leads me to speculate they were perhaps partners at one point."

Information flowed like water from a stream; Lunge's consciousness absorbed it into its core, word by word, with the steady play of his fingertips across their keyboard acting as a baseline. There was little Edgeworth had to offer that he hadn't already heard or worked out himself, but it was gratifying to hear it from someone else's mouth. It was unfortunate that Edgeworth hadn't met Doyle in person, but he let it go- as intelligent as the source seemed (for now, at least) secondary observations could only ever hold a certain amount of value, never mind observations that relied so heavily on a trained eye.

Not that I doubt your ability to observe, Mr. Edgeworth. You're one of those who sees as well as looks, aren't you? A planner. You appreciate the need for attention to detail. You would probably have noticed a great deal of what I would have liked to know.

"My associates and I had reached that conclusion as well," Lunge agreed once the man had finished. My associates. He almost smiled at that; thus far, he had 'associated' with only L and Javert. Hardly an army, but... he paused, silently calculating how many of his own ideas to reveal, then continued: "I had wondered if he played any part in the recent attacks." The wording was deliberate, equal parts damning and ambiguous.

Associates? An interesting word to use. Likely others of the investigatory inclination, but who counted, among them? A few names came to mind immediately - Wright, the younger Gavin, Shirogane, Javert, Taylor - but he was sure there were others. He had half a mind to gauge interest in forming...not a second information network so much as a group of collaborators. People who could piece together the information that was gathered and look into it for what it was and what was hidden beneath.

"I had wondered as much myself," he admitted, nodding once. "I was indisposed at the moment of the actual intercom announcement at which our former announcer allegedly came forward, but given the pattern before that, it makes sense. Someone hacked into the intercom system, that much is clear, and it would have to be someone with that level of knowledge of the system. There are only a few people that have such, and Doyle is at the top of my personal list.

The corner of Lunge's mouth tugged slightly in what might have been a smile. Good. Edgeworth agreed with him. Provided they remained on the same page, their discussion seemed set to run its course without a hitch.

"On top of which," he said, "there is the comment Landel himself made on the night of his attack to consider: I guess you don't care anymore. About collateral damage." His fingers beat out the rhythm of the words, recited in a steady monotone that sapped away the passion that had originally accompanied them yet kept the accusatory undertone. "If his observation was correct, it wouldn't be too extreme to suggest that the night before last was just that- collateral damage. Which would, of course, imply a target." He left a moment for Edgeworth to consider the point, then continued. "It isn't difficult to work out who that might be."

Edgeworth might have returned that smile, just a bit. It was good to feel productive; between last night, this morning, and the bulletin board, things were off to a good start.

"Indeed," he replied, writing down the words and underlining. "The collateral damage, of course, being - as distasteful as it sounds - the patient population. This means their blood feud is escalating. The questions are what the feud is about, and what, if anything, we can do to avoid being caught up further. The deaths the night before last were only temporary, but they caused a great deal of trauma. If they're about to start mass-murdering patients..."

As distasteful as it sounds... Lunge was glad that he had said it first. It saved him the unnecessary calculation that came with judging whether or not Edgeworth would have been offended- and to be honest, he would have been rather disappointed if he had been.

"Which would beg the question, of course, of just whose death the Head Doctor experienced." It was an interesting avenue to traverse; nonetheless, he doubted Edgeworth would be able to shed any light on the matter. He nodded. "Until we can unravel their history, we are at their mercy; the references in that same announcement to 'dogs' and the unnamed female, for example. The former I have yet to consider, but it would be reasonable to assume the latter refers to Jill, the current host. You haven't heard from her in a while, have you?" He didn't wait for an answer. "The trouble lies with the difficulty of finding information on any of the key players. Relying on intercom messages isn't just inefficient, it's dangerous."

"This is just a shot in the dark, but I almost wonder if he experienced Doyle's death. It would be ironic, and I suspect the irony would be part of Doyle's objective in doing so, based on what I know of past behavior." That would certainly add an interesting spin to the whole affair: if the point had been to make Landel relive that...hm.

"I agree. I don't have any light to shed on the question of 'dogs', but it's true, 'Jill' hasn't broadcast anything for quite some time. At least a week." Edgeworth tapped his pen against his notebook, thinking that over. "That information has to be here on the premises somewhere. If not here, then in town. It's a matter of finding where."

"Oh?" The typing paused and Lunge raised an eyebrow at Edgeworth, head tilting to the side. There was an interesting proposal. "I hadn't considered that," he admitted with a smile, and this time it was genuine; he hadn't expected to find competency quite so early in the morning. "You think he would want to make such a bold statement?"

Now, however, came the question of just how involved he wanted Edgeworth to be in his investigation. After a moment's thought, he relented- the man seemed trustworthy enough, for all the cracks about prosecutors, and L's penchant secrecy would just have to be satisfied with vagueness rather than outright avoidance. "I'll be looking into the ruins outside of the Institute tonight. Do you know them?"

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Day 45: Breakfast

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