The Scarecrow of Oz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scarefaux) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2010-12-30 02:12 pm
scarefaux) wrote in damned_institute2010-12-30 02:12 pm
Entry tags:
Night 53: Patient Possessions Storage
[From here.]
Well, the second floor was just room after room of boxes, wasn't it? The Scarecrow reached for his map and pen, preparing to label the entire hall as "Where one might find boxes and batteries" when the name of the room caught his eye. "It says here that this is the Patient Possessions Storage," he said, stopping after only a few steps into the room. He took another look around- surely enough, every box on the shelf had its own label, each bearing the name of a patient. Whether they were the possessions of past or present patients was yet to be known.
The Scarecrow started at the A section, passing slowly down the line in the hopes of finding a box for Abe Sapien. With no luck on the first name, he skipped to the wall with the S boxes, scanning for a "Scarecrow" box while he was there. It looked like they followed the same pattern as the files, going with the name given by the Institute. He paused again, turning to Mele as an idea came to mind. "Do you suppose this is where they keep what we had on us when they brought us here?"
Well, the second floor was just room after room of boxes, wasn't it? The Scarecrow reached for his map and pen, preparing to label the entire hall as "Where one might find boxes and batteries" when the name of the room caught his eye. "It says here that this is the Patient Possessions Storage," he said, stopping after only a few steps into the room. He took another look around- surely enough, every box on the shelf had its own label, each bearing the name of a patient. Whether they were the possessions of past or present patients was yet to be known.
The Scarecrow started at the A section, passing slowly down the line in the hopes of finding a box for Abe Sapien. With no luck on the first name, he skipped to the wall with the S boxes, scanning for a "Scarecrow" box while he was there. It looked like they followed the same pattern as the files, going with the name given by the Institute. He paused again, turning to Mele as an idea came to mind. "Do you suppose this is where they keep what we had on us when they brought us here?"
no subject
She went to check the 'R' and 'L' sections, though, just in case. Not finding the name (or an approximation of it), she peeked into a box at random. Just normal stuff: clothes, and—she held up a plastic-looking thing—cellphones. "With the type of people I've met, I don't think their boxes would be this useless," she remarked, digging more through the box but not finding anything out of the ordinary. Mele's would have her sai in it, for instance.
Maybe more people than she'd thought were just boring. There was a lot of boxes, after all; more than the number of people she'd talked to. She rifled through another box, but found it more or less the same. "Have you found yours?"
no subject
"I think so!" he answered excitedly, pulling the box of the shelf and setting it on the ground, its contents rattling within. He removed the top slowly, peering inside.
On top was a dirty shirt of blue fabric. He shook his head- it wasn't his, or the one that had been stuffed and used as his body. Beneath the shirt was an odd collection of items: a comb, a strange piece of leather with pockets stitched into it, a ring with two keys, a metal handle with a knife folded into it, and a watch on a leather band. The last item was familiar enough- he wound the knob on the side, the watch coming to life with a pleasant ticking sound. The former strawman couldn't help but smile.
"I guess my brain isn't in here," the Scarecrow said. "And I don't recognize any of these things. They certainly weren't with me when I got here, but I guess it couldn't hurt to take them. Maybe they'll come in handy." Pocketing all the smaller items, he put the shirt back into the box, hoping they wouldn't notice it was missing a few of its contents.
Getting to his feet, the Scarecrow put the box back on the shelf, continuing his search for other familiar names. "You know the name the nurses call you, right? Try looking for a box with that name on it. That's how I found mine."
no subject
At the suggestion, Mele reluctantly turned to look for the 'A' section. The institute couldn't really believe those were their names. First of all, it was ridiculous. Second of all...it was ridiculous. You would think someone would know her own name, but apparently not. Something to ask the doctor, when she saw him again.
"Why would your brain be in a box?" she asked, making conversation (and dismissing the thought that she had at one point thought herself Airi) as she trained the flashlight along the boxes. "Isn't it in your...head....?"
Mele trailed off as her flashlight caught something at the top of the stack and she followed the trail of...what? Black paint? to the ceiling. WELCOME TO YOUR LIFE, it was written up there. What the hell? The door had had to be smashed open; who'd been in here before them? More importantly, how'd someone reach up there? "What the heck...?"
no subject
"I suppose they could have mixed up the boxes," the Scarecrow replied, shaking his head again. "My box oughta have my brain- well, the diploma the Wizard of Oz gave me back home, but seeing how the brain that came with this body doesn't work so well anymore, I probably shouldn't do any deep thinkin' without it. There should also be a crown in there somewhere. I'm hoping that got left behind. I'd hate to have lost..."
His eyes followed Mele's light to the ceiling and to the letters painted on its surface. "'Welcome to your life.' What do you think that could mean?"
The Scarecrow answered his own question almost immediately. "Oh! I'll bet this is another one of the Wizard Landel's tricks! Visitors come to see who we're supposed to be accordin' to the nurses, so maybe these things belong to those people."
no subject
Intimidation or something? No, that wasn't the right word for it. Mele was about to ask who had been in here before them, but if it was Landel's trick, it could have been there the moment night started. Everyone spent dinner in their rooms, after all.
"Why go so far, though?" Mele asked instead, turning to stroll down the row, looking at the names. "Who would be convinced?" Everyone who explored the building had to come in here at some point, but this kind of thing was so...passive. Not that she wanted a repeat of the shadow things, either.
Oh, well. "So you replace your brain when it starts breaking? Must be convenient. Wizardry?"
no subject
"That was the idea in Oz. See, I didn't have a brain as a scarecrow." He pointed to his head. "Only straw up there. I'm not sure it works quite the same way here, though. The human body is a curious thing."
The Scarecrow finally tore his eyes from the writing on the ceiling. "Now I've got to admit that Wizard Landel does have some awfully convincing methods," he admitted. "With what the visitors say and all the nurses and now these boxes. I imagine those who aren't aware of just how wicked he is could fall for it."
He frowned, thinking of Dorothy. She was so sweet and trusting. Though she'd had the power to leave Oz with only a click of her heels, it seemed it took more to escape from the Institute.
no subject
The truth, though... If given the choice, you'd pick it. Gen Juken.
This was silly and ridiculous and a trick! Disgruntled, Mele thought she might like to have her brain replaced right now. "Sounds complicated," she responded, turning for the door. "How did you think back then? You said something about a crown?"
no subject
Finally finding the scrap of paper he was looking for, he got his flashlight ready to read; however, he found himself unable to think about the map at that moment as Mele's other question ran through his mind. "To be honest, I'm not really sure how I thought before I got my brains. I used to supposed I couldn't. The Wizard said that anyone could have a brain and that it was a mediocre commodity, but I really did want one." The real question was whether or not it really had changed his life.
Still puzzling, the Scarecrow headed for the hall, throwing one more glance to the writing above them.
[To here.]
no subject
The first thing Scott noticed about the room after sweeping it with the flashlight was that there was no spot for a full stand-up guitar case - only columns upon columns of white cardboard boxes. Things were not looking good so far for Operation Get Scott An Instrument That Is Actually Cool And Not A Ukelele.
"So remind me again: you said you haven't been up here before either, right?" Scott asked, gazing around and wondering which box was his. "Are you looking for your box too? What kind of stuff are you hoping's gonna be in there?" As he waited for an answer, he followed letters on the shelves until he reached "P" for "Pilgrim. Not surprisingly, he found nothing even close. Crap. What was his "real" last name supposed to be again? He knew his first was "Bryan" something.
no subject
His other questions surprised her though, and her frown deepened as she thought. Senna hadn't thought at all about her own. She had no interest in it. In any way. Much like her patient file, or anything else. Hell, back in her world, most of her was a lie--here could be nothing close to the truth. "Uh. I didn't really think about it," she answered truthfully. "There's not really anything I'd want." The one physical thing given to her was her hair ribbon, and she had that. The only other thing she could possibly want was Mirokumaru, but she couldn't see finding her zanpakuto here--and hell if she could probably use it either. The sword at her side was dependable enough. She didn't need to want more than what she had.
Other than a way out for everyone here. That... she would continue to wish for and work towards. Senna wandered towards the 'G' section, curious despite herself.
Sorry for the wait! Took me longer than expected to get Scott's box sorted out. D:
"Mmm... Mm mm mm..." No, Scott wasn't hungry, nor was he humming to himself. He was pretty sure his "real" last name started with "M" and was trying to coax the rest of the letters out of his brain as he trailed his light across the wall of boxes. "Mmmmoriarty?" That sounded familiar. Maybe that was it. Scott pulled down the box marked "Moriarty, Brian" with some anticipation - only to go "Oh" in disappointment and put it right back. There was too much of a certain pirate-y flair to that box for it to be his. Well, unless his "real" self was even more into Monkey Island than he was.
Then Senna answered his next question, and that got Scott's attention again. "Really? Nothing?" Scott asked, looking back over his shoulder. Maybe they weren't going to find useful things, but Scott would have thought that the girl might hope to find something significant. Scott knew he did, anyway. The girl's tone when she said "nothing" honestly made him worry a little. What kind of life had she come from, he wondered, looking over her weird dark kimono thing again. "There must be stuff you miss from home. Is it just stuff they wouldn't put in a box like this?"
While waiting on an answer back, Scott finally caught sight of another "Bryan" in the "M" section. "Oh this'd better be it," Scott said to himself as he reached for the box marked "Michaels, Bryan." If there were three or more Bri/yans under "M" he was going to... Well he didn't know what, but he would be pretty dang annoyed, anyway.
Luckily for him, the very first thing he saw was a good sign - the little pile of stuff inside the box was covered by in a familiar green shirt folded on top. Even Bryan Michaels was a Smashing Pumpkins fan, it seemed. Scott could dig this guy yet. Next thing underneath was a dog-eared comic book, and Scott had to raise an eyebrow at the title. "What? Z-Men? Are you for real, Landel?" Some evil doctor had too much time and money on his hands if making fake comics fit into his budget. Then there was a wallet, almost identical to his own but juuuust different enough to make it feel weird. He was going to save opening that for now, at least until the rest of the box was rooted through.
And wouldn't you know, the last item in the box was the best of all - a scuffed, well-loved GameBoy Color, not unlike one he had had years ago, only purple instead of green. Scott's eyes bulged open wide, as if he had just discovered a secret stash of the best candy in the universe behind a garbage dumpster. He grabbed for the little machine, turned it over and over in his hands. The cartridge was none other than Super Mario Land. The thing still looked in good condition. It was probably playable.
Oh man, this is, this is...!
He flipped the switch on the side.
Nothing happened.
Flick. Flick flick flick.
Nothing.
He turned the GameBoy over and popped out the back casing.
No batteries.
"...Son of a bitch."
no subject
She twirled around suddenly, found her way back to Scott and giggled at his reactions to his box. "There's batteries in the janitor's closet, you know. I don't know if they're the right size, but we could check." Still, he seemed half-happy with what he'd found. Probably reassuring or something. Pieces of a life, even a little off, that had been lived. Something familiar. Heh.
But he had asked her something, hadn't he? She twisted her mouth to the side, as if considering the question. A question she had already answered for herself. Still. She smiled brightly suddenly, as if everything was perfectly fine. She hadn't thought about this. About how things played for each person. "Nah," she answered belatedly. "I don't really have stuff, you know?" She spread her arms. "Just what I got on me." And even that.... "So anything in mine would just be a lie. So why bother, huh?" She stuck her tongue out mischievously. "Glad you found yours, though."