damned_institute | Day 47: Sun Room [2nd shift]

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Day 47: Sun Room [2nd shift]

Cloud knew he should be taking the opportunity to check out the rec field during the day. The fresh air would be a welcome change from the crowded stuffiness the Institute usually provided, and he would have a chance to scope out the area when it wasn't all under the cover of darkness. When offered a choice, however, he remained in the sun room. He told himself it was so that he could watch the bulletin, him still being fairly new and needing all the information he could get, but the thought rang hollow.

The real reason he was here, he knew, was because he would be out there. Maybe it was weak of him, but he needed a chance to breathe. Ever since he'd arrived it had been nothing but one shock after another, and seeing Zack standing in the cafeteria that morning talking to Aerith had been the final card that caused his tower to crumble. He needed to just sit back somewhere out of the way and start rebuilding.

Being able to watch the bulletin from here was just a perk. Cloud made himself comfortable on one of the sofas, watching people come and go but not really paying attention to them. He took the time to try and rate this on a scale of the biggest messes he'd ever gotten thrown into.

(for Sheena)

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[Is a confused old man okay? :D]

Mihai felt no less certain of his surroundings, despite his nurse's attempted helpfulness at pointing out various things. She'd heard of his 'talent' for getting lost (though not his name, somehow), and had made it a point proudly proclaim that no one would let him wander too far here. Mihai smiled and nodded when she asked if he found that reassuring, every expectation that he should in her voice. He knew a woman's lecture when he heard it, and Mihai decided that being left in peace as soon as possible would ultimately be for the best. So he agreed, and spent his time looking for familiar faces that might be more helpful in terms of providing answers.

Where he ended up, however, was beside a young woman the nurse introduced as 'Miss Akiyama.' Fully confident that her name was anything but, Mihai smiled pleasantly, tipping his head when 'Mr. Luciano' was pointed out, and another demand came as a question. I'm sure you'll behave, won't you?

Mihai had to say, he much preferred Kiri's brand of pushiness. There was something to be said for being straightforward.

"Ah, hello." With only a hint of awkwardness that he felt, Mihai scratched his head, then took a long look at the bulletin. "I'm sorry she dumped me on you like that. That woman seems rather set in her ways." So much that one might have called her an old woman, except Mihai hoped there'd be a bit more wisdom that came with such an aged stubbornness.

[very much so! =D]

When the nurse approached, Renamon tilted a head towards the pair. The situation was familiar, and quickly taken; a sort of irony lacing the fact that while yesterday her companions were all children, this day was leaning towards older men. Something peculiar, by any means. A part of her smiled.

As for the man himself, he wasn't any that she had seen before. Though from the past few days, absorbed in her internal musings and miseries as she had been, one might have claimed to have been here and the Digimon wouldn't have known differently. Ah... She had much to catch up on if that was the case. Her attention to detail was slipping far enough as it was. Though, Renamon supposed, introductions would be the first thing in order. Characteristically, she slightly bowed her head. "No need to apologize. It happens often enough."

She glanced at the board for a moment, then devoted her attentions to the man in front of her. "I am Renamon."

So not only was this woman--Renamon, an unusual name--not only was she not offended, but she seemed to take the nurse's actions as routine. This was a good sign. Mihai needed someone less interested in shuffling people around, and more willing to provide actual answers. So perhaps Renamon wouldn't mind him imposing a bit more.

"My name is Mihai Mihaeroff." With the nurse, Mihai's name had been some forbidden taboo, so it felt oddly could to actually get the full words out without interruption. He smiled a bit at this young woman, only thinking several moments later that maybe actually giving his full name wasn't the best idea, what with a lot of mafia members wanting him dead, and Mihai lacking his guns. Oops.

Well, too late now. Unlike taking a wrong turn, he couldn't suddenly claim a third name, so Mihai decided to just let the path take him where it may. He wasn't all that bad fighting without his guns either, so maybe there wouldn't be too much trouble. "Sorry to put it this way, but have you been here awhile? I just woke up, and my nurse wasn't exactly forthcoming."

Interesting name. Almost exotic in a way Renamon hadn't heard before. But the fact was noted. His unfamiliarity was attributed to his newness, which was something Renamon was all too familiar with. She slid her hands to her elbows, crossing her arms. "I have, actually. A bit over two weeks."

There was something in her that wanted to apologize in advance, but it was ignored automatically and placed to the side. There was nothing to be done about it. "There's many things wrong with this place," she started. "Least of all the different name they're calling you with here." The Digimon closed her eyes briefly, considering. "And depending where you're from, most will likely seem a fantasy. But it'll be apparent soon enough which are facts. And it's better to be prepared."

Her thoughts gave her Toph with warning, as she found the girl the one night, blind and without knowledge of an intercom, much less anything else. Toph was sufficient, more than most, but the fact remained. There was too much out there to risk a lack of knowledge. It was one point the Digimon remained adamant on.

Two weeks? Pity and relief came to Mihai's mind in equal parts. To be housed here for so long with nurses such as this morning's escort hardly seemed like a pleasant time. Perhaps the hospital was partnered with some drug manufacturing organization: as headaches increased, so too the demand for painkillers. Yet if she had been there for such a long period, perhaps Renamon had some of those answers Mihai found so evasive thus far. It wasn't unlike trying to find his way home after a long day shopping. All he could hope for was that the intellectual journey would have a more pleasant ending. Less lecturing was always preferred.

And that might be the case, but if Renamon was being truthful, there was also a significant portion of sanity missing. Of course being addressed by a different name was odd, but potentially harmless; being checked in under an alias to prevent anyone from knowing he had been so vulnerable provided a simple enough explanation. But he would like being prepared for whatever made this place so wrong in her eyes, so Mihai nodded. "Would you mind telling me more? I'll listen to whatever you have to say." Though he couldn't promise to believe it; even someone who'd seen the things he had stumbled across a limit every now and then.

The Digimon leveled her gaze at the man, slipping into her information-giver role easily. It had been a while, hadn't it? "Night is the thing I will warn you about the most," she said. "The rooms we stay in are unlocked, and we can leave for our own exploits. The hindrance is foremost the creatures that run the institute just as we do. They take many forms, and have different capabilities. It'd be wise to stay with one who has been here for a time tonight so you could learn."

The other basic details of the night had become too familiar without ever touching her. She wondered at that, but Renamon also remembered her loss of time all too well. "They also brainwash certain patients at night to attack us and stop us from moving forward. And just the same, they've taken patients to experiment on while the rest of this is progressing."

Whether or not the man believed any of this was meaningless. He would learn. And the night was the thing that was most harmful physically. If he didn't believe her, it would be good if his mind harbored doubts. That might allow him to react unless of deny when faced with something.

"Ah..." Of all the things he might have imagined, Mihai hadn't expected such things from a hospital. Perhaps if they had been in the underground, yet the sun clearly shown through the windows overhead. Was this something akin to the concert hall, then? The creatures Renamon had spoken of certainly brought to mind those soldiers on the train; a bystander might indeed think of them as monsters, between their costumes and their tenacity.

But now Mihai had to procceed carefully. Renamon had certainly been cooperative, but the feeling of that conductor's voice twisting around his mind remained fresh. Mihai knew he couldn't risk being fooled again. "You wouldn't happen to know who is behind this, then? Or what they want?" Mass destruction and death had been the apparent goals of the deep underground, but this all seemed more complex than that. Brainwashing, experiments, and nightly torture--with trips to the health-concerned hospital inbetween. No, this was something different, if no less hostile in the end.

The question that most would kill to answer. "Martin Landel himself seems to be 'in charge', as it is. He speaks enough over the intercom at night to give you an idea. There was a partner of his, Alec Doyle, who presumably went rogue and was helping the patients until he was killed by Landel." Whether or not the man had came back those nights was still in question. And Landel's words after of denial seemed to hold firm.

"A few days ago a program ran, which led to a conclusion that this is some kind of military based research or training facility. We don't know much more on that." Or if it had been learned, it hadn't been shared. "As well, we know that Landel is the the actual power behind the throne. He's alluded to his employers at several points, but with no clear reference.

"As for what they actually want..." The Digimon sighed. "We don't know. There's a couple groups looking into it, myself included, but there's no clear pattern that can be determined." A beat, then she added, "Perhaps they are just trying to test our limitations." Something so simple however... was not held very tightly.

Martin Landel, Alec Doyle: neither a name he recognized, and that only pushed Mihai farther out of his comfort zone. In a way it left him feeling like that priest had after the incident with the train, the worst parts of being young and old all at once. And while Renamon wasn't laughing at him, it didn't really do much to ease Mihai's bad feelings about the situation.

That he didn't know the names might have again pointed to the deep underground, yet Renamon started talking about the government in her very next breath. A sharp frown had marked his features as he thought over it all, but he had to laugh by the end of it. "No offense, Ms. Renamon. But if what you're saying is true, I'm going to have to wonder just what I've done to earn such terrible luck. I don't even think Badou's had it this bad."

He hesitated for a moment then, wondering about said friend. While he'd advised Badou to be more cautious numerous times, they often rivaled each other on just who had the stronger talent for getting into a mess. And if he was here, it couldn't hurt much to check on him--particularly since the last events Mihai remembered involed Badou being shot in the chest. "Sorry to ask so much, but you wouldn't know him, would you? Badou Nails." Then, after a pause. "Or Haine Rammsteiner." Who, out of them all, seemed most connected to the deep underground--and who might be slightly more cooperative than the priest.

One thing could be said about the man; he absorbed knowledge well. He took it, whether to use or just to consider. It was an intelligent action, and Renamon respected it. In the same beat, she could question the laughter. There didn't seem to be any hostility in it or traces of mocking... Other than that Renamon couldn't determine the cause. A human characteristic perhaps. For the name however... "Just Renamon."

Anything else the Digimon might have said disappeared fluidly at Badou's name. Her eyes widened briefly in recognition. "Badou, yes. He's one of the individuals I've been working with." Little else would be said until she determined this man's relationship to Badou. "He's talented."

"He has his moments, doesn't he?" Usually fueled by the want of nicotine. Though Mihai would've liked to say he wouldn't have a problem keeping up with one of Badou's fits, he knew that statement was probably truer ten years ago. Still, he wouldn't do too badly.

Something about Renamon's statement struck him though, and Mihai silently worked it over in his mind. Of course he still didn't remember just what happened during the collapse of the concert hall, so it might be nothing. But Badou had been in that same disaster, with a severe gunshot wound. So how was it possible that he'd be up and active before Mihai? Searching for cigarettes might have been one thing, but hospitals weren't exactly known for their smoker friendly policies. Though that might have provided it's own motivation, he supposed.

Still... "How is he doing? Do you know how long he's been awake?" Mihai's healed arm certainly couldn't be disregarded, but Badou wouldn't be foolish enough to move around with such a severe injury unhealed. At least, Mihai hoped not. Certainly no one had figured out to dangle a cigarette from a stick to make him run errands.

...

Mihai decided then that finding Badou would be his priority, for the sake of not only his friend, but also of innocent bystanders everywhere.

Nothing sinister rolled off of her conversation partner, but one could never be sure. The Digimon stuck to the basics. "He was fine the last I saw him." Awake instead of simply here was a strange expression, but she didn't read into it. "He's been here a bit over a week, that I know of. It could be more."

There were no harm in these statements, and as distrustful as Renamon was, there was no evidence pointing to hostility. Still the matter remained. "Might I wonder how you know Badou?"

Now that things had fallen back in the realm of little-to-no sense, Mihai turned his head to take another look around. This time he saw a familiar unruly head of hair, though it might not be worth hoping that Haine had been of much help. Mihai still knew little about him, after all.

"We're friends." She hadn't reacted to Mihai's name, so it was probable Renamon wasn't involved with the mafia or it's disputes. Even if she was, few would be bold enough to go after anyone Mihai considered anything beyond acquaintance. And even Badou had an impressive reputation, until a person got too good a look at his methods. Turning back to Renamon, Mihai tried to confirm what bothered him most. "You're sure it's been that long? I seem to have a rather large gap in my memory." He again laughed, though his amusement was at himself. "I'm really feeling my age today, it seems."

Friends. The claim seemed plausible, however one couldn't take words at face value. The man himself changed the subject, allowing Renamon to focus back on facts, and shift away from the probability of trust. "Yes. It definitely has."

She blinked, tilting her head slightly. "That's another point," the Digimon said. "Time. Believable or not, we come from different points in time. For insistence; you could come from Badou's future." This was already glancing on space-time theories, and Renamon didn't know if she'd rather or rather not explain the fact of multiple worlds yet again. There were too many theories in that, and the comfortability of explaining to children versus adults was showing. Regardless, if Mihai touched on it, she would answer.

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Day 47: Sun Room [2nd shift]

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