Day 53: Sun Room, Morning

[scarefaux]

With breakfast finished and a new acquaintance made, the Scarecrow's mind turned to his other friends. The disappearance of Depth Charge's friend had brought back memories of how he'd felt when Kaiji went missing: helpless, useless, as though he should have and could have done something more to find him. If only he had his brain, then maybe he could have thought of something!

As much as he didn't like to admit it, it was unlikely his former roommate was still within the Institute's walls at this point, though the Scarecrow wouldn't know for sure unless Kaiji returned to visit him as Dorothy had, encouraging his supposed recovery. There was still the concern that Landel, despite his vile methods, was actually right and he was suffering from the delusion of having been a scarecrow in Oz. After all, that movie had been a pretty elaborate trick. Would he have planted it in town on purpose, knowing the Scarecrow would be taken there the night of the enchanted doors? And how could he guarantee that once he did find it, he'd take it and actually watch it? There was so much guesswork involved- it seemed the Wizard Landel either liked coincidences or he had more power on his side than any of the patients could have guessed.

The Scarecrow stopped by the bulletin board before heading for a seat, considering writing a note to his friends to check on them. He'd heard from Depth Charge, Remy, and Kibitoshin within a day's time, so he figured they were probably fine (as fine as Depth Charge could have been after last night, anyway). He'd seen Mele and Scar the day before. He put a finger to his head, thinking- he'd not heard from Abe or Sangamon in a day or so, but being professionals, they were probably very busy. Perhaps a note would be best for them.

[Kibby]

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[prodigalson]

Okay. There may have been a private joke here that he wasn't privy to - except the joke extended all the way into the faint voice that followed the boy's words, contained in his head. If it wasn't for his ability to hear that, he may have thought the boy was simply crazy. Asylum and all; even if the majority of patients here seemed mostly sound of mind, there was always the chance that one of the truly unhinged ones had been scooped up by Landel. Of course, there were also situations like Rolo's - one person one night, completely different the next day. He still had no idea what had occurred between the period of the pain inflicted on himself by the small brunet to the time when he saw him again over a game of chess. Brainwashing, he imagined, worked similar to that. But not so fast. Not so completely. It was as if someone had popped Rolo's brain out and inserted someone else's into his head, a brain with its own identity and set of memories and names.

Edward tried to seem sympathetic as he kept that thought in mind, all the while questions were piling up silently: did this boy recognize him somehow? Why did he seem so impersonal about what he was saying? What was he saying? Even as he had felt he was beginning to understand the institution, it threw another curve ball at him.

"The capitol," he parroted. The capitol, not a. Katniss, Katniss - why was he expected to know that name? Why was the boy's reality being called into question? Maybe drugged, maybe sedated - but his eyes were far too bright, far too awake for the effects. Hallucinogenic? It wasn't the best sort of test he could do without tasting, but he smelled nothing abnormal. Blood and flesh. That was all. "I'm afraid I do not know a Katniss. Have you mistaken me for someone else?"