http://human-sponge.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] human-sponge.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute2009-12-16 12:12 am

Day 46: Sun Room

Peter woke up suddenly, his body twisting in the bed and then forcing him to catch his breath in pain. Pain, which was coming from his middle because of the thing that had scratched him last night, and after that...

After that, Zach had jumped in front of him like some kind of martyr, like the exact opposite of everything Sylar stood for, to take the next hit for him. It got pretty fuzzy after that, so night must have ended right around then.

The man let out a pained grunt as he straightened himself up in bed. For some reason, he got the feeling that he'd slept in. There was no way for him to really tell without a window in the room, but he just knew. The fact that Sam's bed looked long since vacated was another clue.

Sam, but was he Sam again? Had the brainwashing worn off, as he and Roland had hoped, or was he going to have to go through this nightmare for even longer? He didn't know how long he could handle "Zach" and "Harrison" before he started going batty himself.

Pulling himself out of bed, Peter lifted his shirt and saw that he was tightly bandaged. The scratch most likely wasn't nearly as bad as the bite that "Zach" had received, but it still smarted. He let his shirt fall and then had to deal with a nurse chiding him for sleeping through the morning announcements. Not that Peter really cared at the moment. He was too busy thinking about last night and the fact that in a way, he now owed something to Sylar. Except it hadn't been Sylar. That was something he was sure of now.

Lost in his thoughts, Peter reached the Sun Room right as the rest of the patient populace was trickling in from breakfast. Sighing to himself, he headed over to the bulletin board and then saw a note written in familiar yet unpleasant handwriting. Holding his pen in a vice grip, Peter scribbled out a reply and then stalked over to an armchair and fell into it with a huff.

While Sylar was maddeningly frustrating, there was one good thing about the fact that he was himself again. It meant that Nathan was too.

[For Spock!]
lawful_perfect: (Stoic)

[personal profile] lawful_perfect 2009-12-25 05:18 am (UTC)(link)
"Mr. Dent," von Karma nodded as he gave his seatmate's hand a firm, businesslike shake before releasing it. He was about to go through the customary motion of declaring this a "pleasure" when Mr. Dent asked him the last question he cared to answer right now. Blast it!

Still, as the older man strove to conceal his dismay, he had to admit to himself that this Mr. Dent wasn't merely an ordinary patient with the intelligence to match. Something about how the man queried him was reminiscent of his days in the courtroom. von Karma couldn't quite put his finger on it just yet, but until he was certain of just who this man was, he would have to exercise more caution around him.

After a moment of quiet deliberation, von Karma responded in a calm and steady voice, his face betraying no emotion as he looked straight at Mr. Dent. "No, I avoided their attacks, thankfully. The one accompanying me that night was less fortunate. However, aside from a nasty wound, he seemed to have suffered from none of the alleged ill effects mentioned on the board. It all sounded like poppycock to me, anyway," he scoffed. "Have you happened to encounter anyone who actually has suffered from those effects?"
dualistic: (only breathing with the aid of denial.)

[personal profile] dualistic 2009-12-28 10:54 am (UTC)(link)
It was good to know that Harvey didn't have to ditch his current seatmate due to wanting to stay, well, properly alive. Much like von Karma, he didn't know what to think about all of that buzz that had gone around regarding some sort of infection from the zombie bites. It just seemed too ridiculous and sensational, but the fact that those things had attacked them in the first place was its own answer, in a way. If the things themselves existed, why shouldn't their bites be infectious?

When the man asked if Harvey had actually encountered anyone who was sick from those monsters, he gave a vehement shake of his head. "Nothing like that," he quickly said. "No one I was with even got bitten." Franziska had gotten scratches down her back, but she'd seemed more or less recovered when he'd run into the girl yesterday. Not that she seemed the sort to show any signs of pain even if she was feeling it. "A girl I was with got scratched by one, but if I'm up on my horror movie knowledge" -- which he wasn't, really, but this was basic enough -- "then I think only the bites spread infection."

"Let's just hope I don't have to test that theory," he said with an irritated exhale as he leaned back into the couch and crossed his arms over his chest.