Day 54: Intercom, Dawn

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

The sun rose steadily across the sky, as it always did, but what seemed to move with even more clock-like rigidness were the uniformed personnel who marched alongside the Institute's usual staff as they made their morning rounds. The nurses and even the burliest of the orderlies seemed nervous at the uncharacteristic additions, shooting glances at the black-garbed officials, who seemed undoubtedly military in their demeanor and speech even though they weren't issuing direct commands.

One of the nurses, however, an elderly, matronly woman who was generally assigned to some of the toughest patients, didn't seem so intimidated.

"Will you at least tell us what you're inspecting for, sir?" she asked with a huff, clearly adding the title out of professional courtesy rather than respect. "I don't very much appreciate your following us around if–"

"Orders, ma'am," said one of the uniforms, looking over her shoulder and observing the movements of other staffmembers further down the hallway. "I apologize if you feel we pose an inconvenience."

"What orders?" she shot back, holding her arms akimbo.

"The General," he replied, impassive. "That's all I know."

Suddenly, the nurse seemed to pale. She sputtered, then shouted at another nurse who seemed to have been waiting on the older one to knock some sense into the soldiers.

"What are you waiting for? Go wake them up!"

Although patients might have been oblivious to the hustling and bustling outside their doors, as well as the group of military-grade vehicles that had parked directly in front of the Institute's entrance, they certainly became aware that something was different from the sound of the Head Doctor's subsequent announcement:

"Rise and shine, patients! I hope that the test trials you experienced last night weren't too disorienting and that your Condensed Sleep Cycles were satisfactory. That said, please understand that today's announcements and happenings might seem a bit different from usual – this is deliberate and we hope that it doesn't diminish your enrichment through our extended selection process. Our nurses have been briefed only on necessary details and screened from these specialized announcements, so do not attempt to direct any questions to them during this process.

"Thank you for your cooperation."

The intercom clicked off. After a few minutes, it came on again.

"Breakfast is English muffins. All the usual ingredients, toppings, sides, and drinks. Delicious stuff."

The intercom clicked off again.

[ ALL NEWLY ACCEPTED CHARACTERS MAY POST TO THIS SHIFT. All character introduction should be made in response to this post. Please have your character wake up in a random room, as we have not yet assigned them. Thank you! ]

Comments

[terriblehaiku]

Hijikata woke up disorientated. It happened occasionally, when he fell asleep while working or had been pushing himself for too long. But even when that happened, he tended to recognize the room he was in.

He sat up, muttering a little to himself and rubbing his eyes with the palm of one hand while he tried to work out just what was going on. He'd been in his room, last that he could remember, and now he was in some foreign looking place wearing ridiculous clothing while a voice came out of a box in the wall. Either he was still dreaming, or he'd gone completely insane.

Before he could really work out which was the case, however, the door opened revealing a hallway and several people, one of whom stepped into the room.

"You're awake, good. If you'll care to come with me, Mister Sato, we'll get you to breakfast."

Hijikata gave the woman a look which suggested that she was speaking utter and complete nonsense. "That's not my name."

The woman sighed. "I'm sure that's what you believe. But we really don't have time for this today." She shot a nervous glance over her shoulder at some strangely-dressed men. "We're in a bit of a hurry. I'm sure you'll be less confused once you've had a chance to eat."

He thought about trying to fight his way out. The woman posed no threat. The men would have been a bigger challenge, though. He could handle being outnumbered, but he didn't have his sword, and that was a distinct disadvantage. It would be better to wait for a more opportune time, with less people around. "Fine," he replied, losing patients with the whole ordeal. It was too early to be awake, let alone dealing with this sort of insanity.

[corvus-veritas.livejournal.com]

It was the strangest awakening the middle-aged prosecutor ever had.

But stranger still was how he'd blacked out in the first place. Byrne must've fainted or passed out, there was no way he fell asleep at the bench with all that drama going on. Fainted from an accusation? Was he really that weak at heart? No no no, no way. He'd wanted to pummel Mack Rell to the ground, not faint. But as much as his pride hated to admit it, he found himself in darkness as soon as he heard the judge's gavel.

It wasn't long before Byrne jolted back into reality, his whole body flexing violently as if he were waking from a nightmare. The poor man almost toppled off the bed he was lying upon in the process, but thankfully he managed to catch himself before he ended up on the floor. That didn't stop his heart from racing a hundred miles an hour. He spent his first few minutes awake staring up at the ceiling and gasping for breath, trying to comprehend what just happened. Sheesh. That was the worst way to wake up.

Wait a second. He was supposed be lying on the courtroom floor - or better yet, on the couch in the lobby, carried there by Detective Badd or someone else with a kind heart. But this was a bed, and an uncomfortable one at that. Calmed from his initial awakening but now a little uneasy, Byrne sat up on the side of the mattress and rubbed his eyes, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings. Huh. This was an irritatingly white room he didn't recognize. When did he get here? And--what the? What was he wearing? His scarf and casual suit were replaced with boring gray and an obnoxious smiley face printed on his chest. His pockets were devoid of everything he'd had on him before he blacked out. His hair wasn't even put up like it normally was. So many things wrong here! Just what the heck was going--

"Oh! Glad to see you're awake!"

...Now that was the most sickeningly cheery voice Byrne had ever heard. He turned to the source of the voice and saw a woman in white standing at the doorway of the room, smiling warmly and holding some sort of clipboard. A nurse? Was he in the hospital now or something? "Are you ready for breakfast, Anthony?" she said.

Byrne stared at her blankly. "Who?"

"Anthony." She gave him a gentle, scolding look, like one would give a young child. "Come on now, no games."

"My name's not Anthony," he corrected her, "It's Byrne. Byrne Faraday? Prosecutor? I think you have the wrong--"

"Now, now. You're Anthony Sullivan, remember?" She paused for a second, and then she sighed, approaching him with a concerned look on her face. "...Have you already forgotten your transfer?"

Transfer? What? This wasn't making any sense. And honestly, Byrne was getting a little ticked off at this woman. "I wasn't transferred anywhere. I was just in a trial and got accused of being the Yatagarasu." He expected handcuffs for such an accusation, not smiley face t-shirts.

The nurse sighed again, obviously not believing a word he was saying. "You weren't in a trial or accused of anything, dear. There's no such thing as a 'Yatagarasu'." She shook a finger at him; this lady really was treating him like a child. "You just got transferred to Landel's Institute. We're trying to help treat your mental illness, remember? Now it will be to your benefit if you come along with me to the cafeteria and get some breakfast. Don't you like English muffins?"

Mental illness? He was in an asylum?! Byrne grumbled objections and other, more unfriendly words under his breath. No wonder this nurse thought he was loony. But why was he here? The charges against him were bad enough without supposed mental illness being added to the list. And if he was here, where were Badd and his daughter? Did they know where he was? If nothing else Byrne hoped they were alright! He could've prodded the nurse with his many questions, but she seemed dead set on believing he was a crazy guy named Anthony Sullivan and probably wouldn't even listen. She might even have the nerve to claim his daughter wasn't real.

Maybe it was just better to submit for now. "Alright," said Byrne, "I'll go."

He'd cooperate with them. But as soon as he could snag a phone he was going to call Badd and get these people arrested for detaining a sane man.

M??

[ippo]

Ippo's eyes opened easily and adjusted to the low lighting in the room. He lay rather passively as he stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling. It wasn't his room. The young man wondered if he was still waiting in the locker room, but that didn't make much sense. After how many hits he took in the title match, Ippo was certain he shouldn't be able to do more than groan and lose consciousness again.

Strangely enough, Ippo felt rather refreshed and neither of his eyes were swollen shut. That was his biggest tip off that something wasn't correct. His right eye was almost always swollen shut when he woke up the next day after a match. Nothing felt puffy or achy once he took quick stock of himself. He turned his head and saw the clinical and sterile white of a hospital. Had he slept so long that he was already healed? Had he slipped into a coma? It was common enough in his profession, but the thought had never really thought he would be one of those statistics until now. Oh man, his mother was probably worried sick!

He sat up and fiddled with his fingers, wallowing in self-pity for what he must have put his mother, his friends, and even Kumi-chan through. At the thought of her, Ippo wondered if he would see her while she was working. Maybe she could call his mom and let her know he was okay. If she was still willing to talk to him. He had made such a mess out of their last date.

A mechanical click accompanied the sudden appearance of a woman in white, who smiled that pleasantly neutral smile all nurses were masters at. Ippo was was real familiar with the nurses at Sonno General Hospital, so he was a bit surprised to meet one he didn't know. She didn't look new either, but--well, maybe his injuries had been serious enough that he wasn't under the same general care that Kumi-chan worked under.

Not that it mattered, the nurse was pretty enough for him. Scratching his cheek sheepishly, Ippo waited placidly for the nurse to give him a once over. As she poked and prodded, checked his auditory and visual reflexes, Ippo grew brave enough to ask, "Can--I mean, is Kumi-chan working today?"

The nurse didn't even stop checking him over as she responded. "Who, honey?"

"Uhmm, K-Kumi Mashiba. I know her and... And I was wondering if I could ask, uhmm, ask a favor...?" He turned it into a question, not wanting to offend the woman. She was doing a really good job! He had no complaints on that front! He just... wanted to see Kumi and let her know everything was fine.

"No one by that name works here..."

"Oh... Oh, is this not Sonno General Hospital?"

"No, this is Landel's Institute. It's not a regular hospital, Hiro, it specializes in special care for those facing more than just physical challenges," She smiled down at Ippo with something almost like sympathy, or pity. When she saw his face turn pale and slack from the shock, she hastened to get him moving before this turned into a possible fight. "Come on, honey, it'll be okay. Let's get you some breakfast, you'll feel better--"

"But wh-what's... what's wrong with me?" Ippo had no interest in breakfast. His stomach was so twisted with fear and anxiety that he knew nothing would stay down if he ate. What had gone so terribly wrong during his last match? He honestly didn't remember taking that many head blows. Body blows, yeah, he wouldn't be surprised if they needed to replaced his entire digestive track.

Re: M??

[ippo]

The nurse's trained face never wavered. "Well, you had an accident. You jumped in front of a bus, and a friend of yours called for an ambulance. But everything is alright. Your mother was informed and she thought this would be the best place for you. We'll take good care of you, Hiro. We've treated former athletes before..."

That was the second time she had said Hiro, and now he was certain she simply had the wrong patient.

"Uhmm, excuse me, but... I'm not Hiro. I just need a check up after my last match..." But the more he kept talking, the more the nurse seemed to give him this look of "I've heard it all before, son" which stunned him into silence, but then he tried again. "I was... I was in a match, I couldn't have--"

"No, honey... There was no match..." She had a hold of his hands, stroking them like a mother would for a distraught child. Ippo was at a loss for what to say. She wouldn't lie to him. This was a hospital, they didn't lie, but they could have the wrong patient. But she was so adamant that he was someone named Hiro. The only thing he could do was freak out.

It started with his breathing. His chest rose and fell erratically as he began to hyperventilate. The nurse took a hold of the side of his face and told him pleasantly, but firmly, to calm down. She didn't want to have to sedate him when he had just woken up. That subtle threat helped Ippo to get a grip on himself. She suggested they go get him something to eat so it would help clear his head. It sounded like a good idea to him.

F?

[rope-victim.livejournal.com]

The cry of alarm came bubbling up out of Miku’s throat uncontrolled. Here, she was here again. Here where the nightmares roamed freely and where every day was slow, mind-numbing torture (sometimes with rice). She didn’t want to be back in the Institute again, and yet, there she was, lying on scratchy, thin sheets, staring up at the white, smooth ceiling and without everything all over again.

Again, she didn’t remember how she got here. She didn’t remember when she’d left, either, only that she knew that she’d gone to sleep after a night once and was waking up during the day, but there was nothing there. No middle to tell her that maybe she’d just slept over long, or was recovering from some horrible injury. Even her wrist scar looked old. Miku clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sob.

She wanted to be free! She wanted to go home!

Calm down, calm down, she told herself. Calm down, this is just a dream, and you’re going to pinch yourself and wake up. It’s okay, it’s okay. Miku reached over and dutifully pinched her arm. The pain was real enough, all right. She could even feel it up into her ears. Miku turned her face into the pillow and sobbed again. What if everything had changed all over again? Were any of her old friends here? Had they gone on without her? What was she to do?

Ritsuka, I’ll find Ritsuka. Miku told herself, even though she hoped that he wouldn’t be here. Collecting herself, and wiping her face on the topsheet, Miku pushed herself out of bed and padded over to the desk. Everything was where she left it: the notebook, the collection of pens, the flashlight. She didn’t know how much time she had left, after all, and uncapped a pen quickly, drawing a stick-figure’s gallows and scoring lines under it. She thought if it was a game, the nurses wouldn’t mind it so much, would they?

Of course not.

She had just finished, when her nurse opened the door with a jubilant, “Good morning, Alice!” Miku jumped guiltily and stuffed the paper into her pocket.

“G-good morning.” She looked down at her feet, and shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m sorry you had to come back, Alice dear, but do you know what? This time, we’ll really do our best to make you well again.” Her nurse smiled. “It would make me so much happier if someone like you got a real chance to join society as a functioning member.”

“I... y... yes. I’m sure you will,” Miku looked up and straightened her shoulders. “Is it breakfast already? I’m looking forward to it.”

“You bet it is! I’m so glad you’re up early, too. It’s much easier when you all aren’t lazing about in bed. You’d think you were having a party every night!” The nurse laughed at her own joke and Miku weakly chuckled with her.

“Would it be alright if I stopped at the bulletin board before breakfast, I just want to see what everyone has been up to,” Miku added as the nurse escorted her from the door.

“Oh, dear, you know it’s only a bunch of silliness, don’t you? But... I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm. Just don’t complain when there are no more muffins, okay?”

“Oh, I... I won’t. I promise.”