Day 51: Men's Showers [Second Shift]

[lawful_perfect]

Bah. So much for yet another suggestion of von Karma's. Such priorities this Institute had. They would implement a foolish suggestion to introduce origami lessons and to offer sewing supplies to select patients, yet refused to allow them to cleanse themselves more often than twice a week -- and, of course, without any additional privacy? How many more of his reasonable suggestions would the Head Lunatic make a point of ignoring?

von Karma scoffed, shaking his head as he entered the shower facility. Fortunately, it appeared that he was the first one in here. As soon as the announcement over the intercom had blared out signaling the shift change, von Karma had been quick to excuse himself from his conversation with Naraku to promptly head for the showers. It had been bad enough last time that there were already three men in the showers by the time he arrived. This time, he would make certain that he would be the first one there.

Without wasting a single second, he disrobed, meticulously washed off the grime from the past several days, dried himself, then got dressed. All within a perfect three minutes, zero seconds, before anyone else had a chance to enter. He would have preferred a much longer time to devote to hygiene, but he didn't want to risk any needless immodesty in front of anyone.

Now finished, he exited the restroom and entered the Sun Room.

[To here]

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[stellarregions]

Gren had to bite back a sarcastic comment as he washed the last of the shampoo from his hair. It wasn't Mason he was angry with, after all, and getting snippy with people wasn't how he liked to deal with things. He was just so frustrated by the whole ridiculousness of his situation that it was hard even for him to keep his calm. But when the last few years of your life had played out like an ever escalating comedy of the absurd, it was hard not to want to lash out occasionally.

Instead, he took a moment, regained his calm, and nodded a little. "Thanks. If it makes it any less weird, I wasn't always like this. And it wasn't my choice." He didn't know how much that would help, really, except that at least it might answer a few questions that could be swirling around in the younger man's head. He couldn't stop people from thinking he was some sort of freak, but at least he could clarify his role as a victim in the whole sad ordeal. The last thing he needed to deal with was someone somehow thinking he'd wanted to be this way.

He was more or less clean now, but he stayed under the spray of the shower head a bit longer, letting the hot water do its work on muscles still sore from the last two nights worth of physical activity. If anything good came from this place at all, it would probably be in the form of regaining a little of the muscle-tone he'd lost to incarceration and illness.

[gamingsostfu.livejournal.com]

Matt nodded, feeling himself physically relax - both from the heat of the shower soaking into his skin and the gravity of Gren's last statement. It did make him feel better to know that the other man hadn't chosen to be the way he was - then again, even if he'd been born that way, it still wouldn't have been his choice, and Matt's not sure he'd ever like to meet the dude who would want his own rack. Wasn't on the brunet's list of things he wanted to do before he died - and stayed dead, but that was a matter for another conversation.

He looked away again, this time out of respect rather than awkwardness. It was an emotion he just couldn't seem to escape, but Matt was gung-ho about ignoring it for the moment.

And he was damn good at ignoring things when he wanted to. "I just. Don't let it get you down, man." He nodded sharply, a gesture meant to convey support, but his eyes were still trained on the wall in front of him.

It was a sad situation, he knew, when Matt was the one trying to buck someone up. It wasn't what he did best, and he knew it, and most everyone knew it, he liked to think, but the topic called for it; of that he was sure.

Finally washing the last bits of soap from his body, he stood, glancing over at the door. It had been nice, at least, to escape his nurse's close and ever-watchful eye for more than two seconds - even if he'd run himself smack into the most awkward conversation he'd been privy to since-

...well. Since before Mello'd left Wammy's, really.

"I hear they do things to people here. Weird things. Bad things." He continued to look away. "That-" Matt gestured to Gren, his hands shaking a little as he did. "-honestly seems like one of those things they'd do here, to mess with people's heads. But." Now he started to flush red again, just a little bit. "But if that was something someone'd done to you before you got here, and you managed to live through it - and with it? Then this place should be a cakewalk for you."

[stellarregions]

It seemed like that had been the right route to go with the conversation. He could feel a little of the tension that had been in the air dissipate. He didn't talk about this much, for obvious reasons, but once it was known, it was easier to explain the whole thing than let people wonder and come to their own conclusions.

"I try not to," he replied. The reassurance amused him a little in both it's simplicity and its awkwardness, but he appreciated the sentiment anyway. "I'd rather be an optimist than a pessimist anyway." The only other option, after all, was to let the weight of everything drag him down, and he was just a little too stubborn to let that happen.

"Do they?" He couldn't say he was surprised, to be honest. But it was a worrying new detail he was going to have to take into account, maybe find out more about, so he could avoid it. He'd survived his prison stint, and everything that had happened to him there, but becoming someone's guinea pig again wasn't something he was sure he could bounce back from, and he wasn't eager to test the theory.

He nodded a little. "It's a long story but... I've been somewhere like this before." Not exactly like, of course. There was a big difference between a military prison and even this sham of a mental hospital, but this was as close to that nightmare as he'd ever find, he was sure. "Living through it isn't so hard, really, when your other choice is to not live." He'd never been the suicidal type. Not really. Yes, he was going to die anyway, but he wanted to go with some pride still intact. He didn't want to let them win.

[gamingsostfu.livejournal.com]

It sounds like Mello should come on over, have a talk with this guy. Matt knew it wouldn't help - he was no stranger to the shoddy thinking that made up a large portion of his best friend's thought process - but it seemed like the right thing to say to the blond right about now.

The unsettling part of what he'd just heard was that there were other places like this one. Places where you were ruled completely by a nameless, faceless evil that wanted to eat your soul. Places where you could get lost in the dark and never find your way back. Places where they took you out of what was supposed to be your own private space - only to mangle you from the inside out and deposit you right back into your bed, so you could wake up the following morning feeling nice and refreshed and completely mutilated.

He had to wonder, really, what they would do to Gren, should they decide to subject him to further torment. The guy already seemed to have been through the ringer as it was; what more could they do in hopes of breaking him? In a way, Matt seriously envied the other man's ability to stay positive, to stay focused; this seemed like the perfect place to fall over and refuse to get back up.

Thankfully Mello was holding on, though the brunet knew that was mostly from sheer determination and stubbornness. There really wasn't much more to Mello, when you broke him down to his most basic elements. Matt had no idea what he was going through, and he had to say he was thankful for that.

...but it might not stay that way forever. Matt appreciated being in the dark as to Mello's current state of mind - hell, he downright enjoyed it. The facility was messing with his head as it was; to lock him in a room and do horrible things to him? That wasn't what he had in mind for the duration of his captivity, and he realized that he needed to prepare, should something like that happen. He didn't want it to - anyone with half a brain would be able to figure that out - but he was too logical a thinker to deny that it was a possibility. There was no telling what the sadistic fuck's running the Institute wanted with him, but he couldn't say they didn't. After all, there he was, right?

He was about to start trying to figure out something to add, something else to say - but really, what do you say to something like this? - when a familiar voice called from the entrance to the showers, "Marcus! That must be the longest shower I've ever seen you take! Come on now; we need to move along and let Gregory finish his own shower." When Matt turned, all he saw a hand waving him toward the door. Sighing, he started toward her slowly, hunching his shoulders again in discomfort. However, before he left, he glanced over his shoulder at Gren, offering a small wave. "See you later, optimist of optimists?" He had himself a nice chuckle over that one.

[stellarregions]

Gren was somewhat grateful when the nurse called for Mason, which actually made him feel a little guilty. It wasn't the young man's fault, really, it was just that he'd started out the day physically exhausted, and now he felt emotionally wrung out as well. He was definitely going to have to work out some way to avoid future situations like this. It was all right if Mason knew, but he didn't exactly want his secret getting leaked to the whole patient population.

"Sure thing," he called in response, waiting until he was gone to shut off the water and head out to dry off, get dressed, and deal with the nurse who was no doubt impatiently waiting for him to finish up.