damned_institute | Day 23: Lunch

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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.

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"I can't say," Raine admitted, reluctantly. "I've never cast more than two spells in a day here; I suppose I could experiment with that, but I don't want to leave myself helpless during Nightshift." She thought for a moment. "Although, since it seems safe enough in our rooms, so long as any experiemnts are done near patient rooms it should be worth a try." She glanced at Rein for a moment, wondering if the woman was strong enough to carry her if it came to that... if not, she guessed she could trust Dias or Ashton to take her back to safety.

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.

Ashton stared numbly off into space while the women spoke, hearing jumbled words, white noise instead of speech. It was anything but intentional, though. Under normal circumstances, the friendly swordsman would have smiled, nodded, and maybe asked a question or two.

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.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/landels_damned/90002.html?thread=5505682#t5505682).]

With the two girls not paying him much attention, Dias turned his attention back to his still-obviously-upset friend - just in time to see Ashton, looking positively ill, get up and all but bolt from the table.

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).]

Reinforce nodded as the other's left and then returned her attention to Raine, nodding in agreement with her point on the difficulty of exploring her limitations. "I can't excuse leaving anyone just to try to expand our personal power, but if we're ever in a situation where you've reached that two-spell limit and we've completed our objectives for the night we could move back to the room and try then and there." She was in fact more than strong enough to carry Raine, but didn't want to be in a situation where it was necessary.

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."

"That sounds reasonable," Raine agreed. "It's been a while since I was this weak, so I'm a little hesitatant to take unnecessary risks right now."

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.

"I agree. There isn't enough networking between the prisoners. There are a few organizational efforts but most seem content to simply form a normal social net and depend on them. Organizing into cells would be much better." Of course, communication was not easy- the nurses were everywhere, and the bulletin board was monitored. Still, she wondered how much might be gained by organizing openly. Would Landel's step in to remove leaders or was this within the parameters of their game?

Finished with her meal, Raine was free to focus her full attention on this new idea--she very much liked having a puzzle she could solve. "If the staff objects to that sort of post, there are other ways as well--passing around a notebook and asking people to add to it, as well as making copies. Also, it would be easy to disguise giving monster information to the children as simple mythology... something along those lines could be organized for the adults, as well."

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.

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.

Reinforce blinked, not at the awkward introduction- she was hardly socially adept herself, being best-suited to proclaiming dooms and the like- but the idea that she might have forgotten. "Of course I remember. It was no trouble at all; I'm glad to see you're doing well." Trying to meet many patients meant she couldn't keep tabs on all of them, and though dealing with her past had made her good at accepting such trade-offs, she was not immune to worry.

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."

"First, though, we need to learn how open we can be," Raine said. "I imagine the main objection the staff would make is that this 'encourages our delusions'." She made no effort to hide her disgust at the prospect. "But if they do drive us 'underground', it won't do more than slow us down." She wasn't just being arrogant--between her and Reinforce alone, they should be able to come up with plenty of ideas.

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.

Dean beamed at the reception, no longer tense. He took the offered seat, sprawling as he pressed an arm upon the table, leaning back into the bench. Emerald eyes gleamed as he again studied her, noting the absence of crutches she'd held at her sides yesterday morning. If her injury had healed that quickly, then his burns might be gone in the next forty-eight hours! ... Or so he hoped.

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.

Reinforce wasn't so confident that opposition could be easily overcome, but neither did she expect them to use their position to fullest advantage. This was why she saw Landel's only as a game; the arbitrary use of power by the staff. They could have been much more effective in quashing organized resistance if they wished, but during dayshift they followed their little script even when that made things easier for the patients. "The bulletin postings don't seem to be extensively censored, even when we discuss our worlds of origin. They may not care."

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..."

"If we moved in packs of ten, we could nail the suckers," said Dean, easily enthused by the idea. "The bulletin would prove handy for organizing that, I'd think." He gently scraped his nails along the table. "We could ask everyone if they have fighting experience, and we could sort groups that way; have the experienced lead those who aren't."

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."

Reinforce shook her head. "Fighting experience and numbers aren't enough against some of their servants. During my second night here the group I was with tried to interfere with the the night shift staff and encountered a cyborg. Those that fought all had great skill and two had great powers, but we were still at a disadvantage. The armory will be as bad or worse." Assembling a sufficiently powerful group would be a challenge. Many already had made alliances... she knew she would be hesitant to leave Raine to aid a stranger even if they had such lofty objectives.

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.

Reinforce's response to his plan of uprising was met with a grumble. Dammit.

"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."

Ah, she did feel bad now. She was supposed to support people, after all... that was the origin of her name, bless Hayate's polyglot soul. "It's not that I disagree with your ideas. The patients need to be more organized, and it may be that our only chance for escape is to try to interfere with the true workings of the facility instead of just playing their little game." Though, for all she knew, that would only represent a change in their level of play. After all, no matter how far above them they were now, medical experiments and cyborgs could never have brought her here. Nothing appeared during the nightshift that would even have made a good meal for her... the 'true workings' of the facility might lie much higher than she presently knew to look. Thoughts like that were the reason she didn't like thinking about the purpose or structure of Landel's too deeply...

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.

He tapped his foot as he digested the information. 'Playing their little game'; yes, it had been fairly obvious from the start that what she'd told him in the Chapel was indeed closest to the truth he'd come by – that the staff seemed to toy with their patients. There has to be another motive, he thought silently. There must be fastidious statistics or data on each of us, and that's why they chose to capture us. Dean still had a scheme in mind suggesting this was all an illusion, and he was essentially unconscious in a hospital bed, awaiting contact from a reaper. It would explain why he didn't know anyone in the vicinity from his past.

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!"

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Day 23: Lunch

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