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damned_institute2007-04-11 11:45 am
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Entry tags:
- adelheid,
- aidou,
- albel,
- alucard,
- amaterasu,
- ashton,
- axel,
- aya,
- azel,
- bakura,
- barret,
- caim,
- captain jack,
- carnage,
- claire bennet,
- cliff,
- darkwing,
- darman,
- dean winchester,
- dias,
- eddie brock,
- edward elric,
- elena (ffvii),
- envy,
- fox,
- gabranth,
- gin,
- goku,
- hakkai,
- haku,
- haru,
- heiderich,
- hikaru,
- hisoka,
- hojo,
- homura,
- hughes,
- kadaj,
- kyouya,
- larsa,
- larxene,
- lord recluse,
- lust,
- luxord,
- lyta,
- mal,
- matsumoto,
- miku,
- naminé,
- obi-wan kenobi,
- omi,
- otacon,
- qui-gon jinn,
- raine,
- raistlin,
- raven,
- reinforce,
- renji,
- reno,
- ritsuka,
- river,
- riza,
- rock lee,
- roy,
- rubedo,
- rufus,
- rukia,
- sasuke,
- schuldig,
- seimei,
- sephiroth,
- sora,
- takaya,
- tifa,
- tsuzuki,
- valyn,
- vergil,
- vincent,
- wesker,
- xigbar,
- zelos
Day 23: Lunch
The second the intercom sounded, while the man on the intercom was still talking, Ashton pulled himself off the couch in the Music Room and slowly made his way to the door. He walked, glided even, as if he were a ghost in a dream. The nurses had already filed up to escort the patients to the lunchroom, and one bustled over to walk Ashton those few feet from one room to another.
"You're not looking very well, Mr. Pritchett," she said cheerfully. "Didn't you enjoy your shower?"
Ashton replied with a small, forced smile, then shook his head. He didn't feel like talking now. Though the nurses were pushy and downright annoying, he figured he owed this one at least a little explanation. They didn't know - or didn't believe - what went on after dark, but he owed them the benefit of the doubt. "Bad day," he decided on telling her.
Bad day indeed. The showers and the music had done nothing for his nerves. But then again, what could get that graphic image out of his head?
He glided ghostily through the taco line and settled on two chicken and bean tacos, with chips, a scoop of guacamole, two churros on the side, and a glass of apple juice. He wasn't used to this sort of food (save the juice) and he wasn't even sure he'd eat it, but the chances were high that he'd be able to pass it off on someone.
He was on the verge of tears again, too. What he would have given to just sit down next to a barrel and eat a hamburger.
Thank goodness the cafeteria was bare just now, too. It left all the corner tables open, the tables that shouted 'Don't talk to me, I'm brooding over here.' He sat at one, pushed his food a little away from him, and buried his head in his arms.
"You're not looking very well, Mr. Pritchett," she said cheerfully. "Didn't you enjoy your shower?"
Ashton replied with a small, forced smile, then shook his head. He didn't feel like talking now. Though the nurses were pushy and downright annoying, he figured he owed this one at least a little explanation. They didn't know - or didn't believe - what went on after dark, but he owed them the benefit of the doubt. "Bad day," he decided on telling her.
Bad day indeed. The showers and the music had done nothing for his nerves. But then again, what could get that graphic image out of his head?
He glided ghostily through the taco line and settled on two chicken and bean tacos, with chips, a scoop of guacamole, two churros on the side, and a glass of apple juice. He wasn't used to this sort of food (save the juice) and he wasn't even sure he'd eat it, but the chances were high that he'd be able to pass it off on someone.
He was on the verge of tears again, too. What he would have given to just sit down next to a barrel and eat a hamburger.
Thank goodness the cafeteria was bare just now, too. It left all the corner tables open, the tables that shouted 'Don't talk to me, I'm brooding over here.' He sat at one, pushed his food a little away from him, and buried his head in his arms.
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He hadn't been physically or emotionally ready for Dias to touch him, and he certainly didn't want the taller man to see his tears. So he turned his face down, shaking his head. "It's.. it's nothing, Dias."
He gestured with a tear-smudged hand at the full tray of food he had. The bite of churro was giving him a slight bit of a stomachache, and he didn't want the food to go to waste. "..Take my food?"
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Ashton didn't seem to want his friend's intervention any more than hers right now... she would stick to the topic he'd proposed, and hope that it was something they could talk about without the level of discomfort Ashton was currently displaying.
...she really was a long way from being like Hayate or Amaterasu. Suddenly feeling a bit melancholy herself, she returned her attention to her burrito, and more of her unfortunate creation went to its horrifying fate.
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Keeping her hand below the level of the table to keep her actions discreet, she sketched the long-unneeded symbol in the air. She couldn't hide the white runes that suddenly glowed around her so easily, but the staff here was so willfully ignorant she couldn't see them saying anything to her about it. Nor could she control the fact that Dias glowed for a moment when she murmured, "First Aid!" but in the light of day, it wasn't nearly as remarkable as it would have been in darkness.
That done, she opened her eyes and looked at him. "There. That wasn't as strong as it should have been, but I'm still learning my limits here." She glanced at her Exsphere for a moment; it was just an ordinary crystal here, as far as she could tell. No soft glow, no warmth that didn't come from her own body heat, nothing. Despite that and its origins, she still hadn't been able to bring herself to remove it; she sincerly doubted it was causing any harm, and it might be beneficial again later.
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Even as he remembered, he felt the healing power flow over him, a cool tingling sensation that centered itself on his shoulder - and on the wound in his side, although that had already healed itself considerably. It wasn't quite like Rena's - Rena's power had been warm like the sun - but it was still a mildly pleasant feeling, particularly knowing what it was doing.
Once he felt the spell had done its work, he checked himself to note the progress it had made on his wounds. The wound in his side was completely gone, although he still felt sore and there were still pale blue bruises under the skin; he'd noted that with Rena as well, that the magic healed the actual damage but not the pain and bruises the damage had resulted in. Possibly bruises weren't even considered enough damage to bother with for a healing spell. His shoulder was still wounded, but the cut was considerably shallower, well on its way to healing over, and no longer hurt with every moment of that arm - a fact he tested by flexing the muscles of it and opening and closing his hand.
"Thank you," he said, nodding to the two girls(true, only the one had healed him, but it had been at the other's instigation). It seemed a rather subdued expression of gratitude, but for Dias this was positively exuberant.
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He reached up and brushed his fingers against Dias' hand on his shoulder. "Y-you should go get some food.. or eat mine. I'm not going to touch it, I'm afraid."
How strange, telling Dias of all people to go feed himself. Was he really worried, that he'd forgone the buffet even as soon as it was offered? If that was true, Ashton would probably be forced later to explain his own strange, emotional behavior. He wasn't looking forward to that.
He tried to put what was depressing him out of his mind, and forced a little smile.
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Right now she felt it was better to leave the two men alone, and turned to Raine again. "Is your endurance improving at all?" If Raine could learn to use the spell more often they could much better afford to heal everyone they encountered instead of applying triage rules or favoring those they knew...
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She made a mental note to try to avoid power experiments when she knew Zelos was nearby, though; even if she didn't pass out completely...
"I have to say I'm glad we managed to get weapons, though, if magic proves too much of an obstacle for now," she added. "I'd actually like to study the monsters here and see if anything new can be learned from them." If no one had started compiling a bestiary, she would--she suspected even the longtime veterans of the place had a lot to learn, and knowing what they were up against should help tremendously.
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These were not normal circumstances.
Even the thought of attempting to clear his mind of the subject of Dias' past suicide attempt seemed vulgar, and it was making him a little bit ill. Sure, the healer had just significantly improved Dias' shoulder wound, but Ashton couldn't do anything like that. More importantly, though, he couldn't heal his friend's emotional scars, much as he wanted to.
He stood up suddenly, leaving his food on the table, covering his mouth with a hand as if he were about to run away and be sick somewhere. He wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but he was angry at himself. He just couldn't let something as serious as this go so easily! He couldn't just smile and pretend that nothing wrong had happened!
Without an explanation, he started walking away toward the middle of the bustling cafeteria.
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Even knowing that he wasn't much good at comforting people, Dias could hardly let his friend just run off in that state. (Even if he could, he'd feel like an utter bastard for doing so.) He hadn't even sat down at the table yet, so it was remarkably easy to move after Ashton - taking Ashton's tray with him as an afterthought. Ashton hardly looked like he was hungry but Dias still was, and Ashton had said Dias could have his food...
[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/landels_damned/90002.html?thread=5505682#t5505682).]
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The talk of cataloging the monsters, though, gave her pause. "It'd be useful to have and distribute information on them, but this isn't a situation where we can experiment. Still, in a situation like this even anecdotes could have value if their limitations are understood."
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After a moment, she added, "I think the bulletin board would be invaluable for this. I imagine most of the people here would be glad to share what they know." She hadn't spoken to many other people yet, but they had to have realized that teamwork was the only way they were going to have a fighting chance here.
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She would prefer it if they didn't have to do everything in secret, but even if they did it was doable, just a little harder. They had numbers on their side, and she knew well that even small groups could enact big changes--with enough perseverance.
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The huntsman leisurely approached the table where two ladies had themselves seated, presumably in deep discussion. He had yet to meet an unattractive female patient at the Institute. That isn't what this was about, though.
He scuffled to a halt next to them, granting each a doting glance and clearing his throat. He must've been standing there for at least five seconds before he opened his mouth.
"Ha... uh, hi." Dean raised a hand in polite greeting to Raine.
"You might not remember me..." He then turned to Rein, letting out a short cough to conceal a nervous grin. Swaying slightly on his feet, he plugged on. "Dean. I arrived here yesterday. Met you in the chapel." He rolled his eyes (at his own poor composure, it seemed), scratching his head while forcing a pleasant smile. "I didn't get a chance to say 'thank you', so... thank you." He now frowned, eyes on the floor.
Man. Sam could've done better than that.
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She nodded. "Have a seat. We're discussing building a knowledgebase amongst the patients on the different types of creatures that appear during the night." She indicated the chair next to her and resumed her conversation with Raine.
"Disguising it as legends could work. It would be labor-intensive, but there's plenty of free time during the day." Writing while going about the dayshift activities would be easy for her. "Belkan lore has many questing legends suitable for modification to include detailed descriptions of our local monsters."
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Although her little brother had gotten his ego from somewhere.
She nodded to the new person, at least, but waited for him to join the conversation rather than change the subject for him. This was important, and the sooner they got details worked out, the better.
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Interest peaked by the mention of 'creatures', he sported an engrossed expression; the kind he used to display when brainstorming with Sam. It would certainly assist the patients if a clandestine record of monsters were available.
"I think we should worry about our defenses before delving into that department." He recalled the gun Reno had pilfered from the boy last night. If the Institute handed them out to patients under Special Counseling...
He drummed his fingers on the table in deliberation. "Hey, what exactly happens with Special Counseling anyway? I mean," he looked pointedly at the girl beside him, "Do the patients have memory of the... spellbinding process or whatever? Would there be a chance that any of us could be immune to it? What I'm getting at –" he lifted a hand to impede any interruption – "Is... they give them weapons. Stuff we can use against the ugly sons of bitches. Would those patients have been informed where the weapons are stored, d'you think?"
That was Dean for you; gun-toting to the finish.
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To Dean's question she responded carefully. "I am not much more experienced than you, but Hisoka described being injected. He clearly remembered something. We need to find someone clear-minded who can talk freely about the experience to interview. With regards to resistance, though, I doubt it is possible. If the ones running this place are the same that brought us here, they have power over beings of all natures. My presence and Amaterasu's are proof of that." The twisted immortal Lost Logia and divine Sun God... they had been taken while weak, but once here all were.
She mulled his final point for a bit. "It's no doubt under heavy guard," she recalled the powerful cyborg she'd face her second night, "but you're right. The armory they supply the brainwashed patients from would represent the greatest prize we know to look for." If the Book could be found... she'd in all likelihood be invincible once more. "With a large group of skilled and well-equipped patients, perhaps..."
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If Sam were here, they'd have designed a full-fledged revolt against the Institute by now. Well, he liked to assume so, anyway.
"How does the selection process for Special Counseling work?" He additionally queried as the thought arose. "If we could premeditate resistance... plan a counter-attack to resist the brainwashing. Somehow."
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Her response to the second question was also negative. "As I said I have no clear account of Special Counseling. Given the ease with which the patients, including me, are returned to our rooms and put to sleep after the night shift without any memory of the move it is possible none exists to be had."
She would have preferred to be more encouraging, but the point of sounding an idea was to identify flaws. Better to argue now than fail later.
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"So you're saying..." He blinked in a perturbed manner. "We might outnumber them, but our powers aren't a match for theirs...?" Grinding his teeth, he exhaled softly. "Hrn, they must have quite an industry to keep their employees in check. Probably brainwash them as well..." Trailing off as he did when contemplating, his processes collided with a dead-end. Perhaps if Sam were sitting there with him, he'd have something superior to propose and arrangements would carry on the lines of improvement. "Uh, how about- nah." He raised then lowered a hand absent-mindedly, realising the suggestion about to be made would rally a strange stare from his company. Besides, only the hunters he'd been associated with in the past would've understood a word of it.
So he simply issued an annoyed huff and curtly folded his arms; as he did when things were looking pretty grave. "Well, this sucks." He rested both feet up on a chair opposite him. "Sounds like the best thing to do is improvise. This hellhole isn't stable enough to execute formal measures over."
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She continued. "I am cautious because I believe that if we ever begin to pose a real threat we will likely receive a proportionate response. Wandering in small groups isn't effective but given the opposition we face it seems to be what's expected of us. We can make only small gains but the danger is relatively low, at least for those with strong abilities, and some success is tolerated." In her eyes the status quo favored the patients in that their numbers, experience, and resources grew while the facility appeared unchanging. For a being of her age she wasn't nearly as patient as one might expect, owing greatly to her fear of inaction, but her logic told her it was the best response to this situation.
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His brother just better have a plan to pull him back to reality. Or-
Stomach sinking, another thought invaded. What if being sent here was Sam's doing? What if this is where those who were on the barely discernible borderline between life and death came to rest while they anticipated revival? Oblivion. Maybe this was a daydream of Hell. The dull ache of his burns said otherwise, however. This had to be reality of some variety or another.
He shook his head. Thinking in circles like that would drive him crazy if he persisted; perhaps that's what the staff of the Institute wanted.
"I see. We show signs of muscle and they mirror it back. Great." Biting his lower lip, eyes avoiding glances by moving to inanimate objects, he uncrossed his arms and got to his feet unexpectedly. "It's been fun, but I really have to get going. Gotta-" He motioned to the exit – "Meet someone." He gave Rein a friendly pat on the shoulder. "With luck I'll run into you later!"