DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Day 54: Intercom, Evening
New Intercom
damned_intercom wrote in damned
The jingle of the intercom seemed ill-timed this round, a fact that was further pronounced by the pleasant voice following suit.

"Hello, patients. This is I.R.I.S. again. Due to technical difficulties, we are unable to speak to you directly at this time. Until the matter is resolved, we will be announcing the remainder of today's events from our automated service.

It is now time for everyone to retire to their assigned rooms for Dinner Shift. Tonight's menu consists of premium spaghetti with Landel's signature marinara sauce, garlic bread, and a side of Caesar salad. Our dessert for tonight is chocolate chip cookies. In addition, we will be providing the usual selection of drinks, and vegetarian alternatives can be made available upon request.

We again would like to apologize for any inconvenience. Please contact your nurse with any questions or concerns you might have. Thank you, and have a wonderful evening."

The intercom clicked off.

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. ANY NEWLY ACCEPTED CHARACTERS MAY POST TO THIS SHIFT (but are not obligated to if you would like to wait for Nightshift or Dayshift); please refer to the new room assignments before posting. Thank you! ]

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Though he hadn't had any time to think about it, one thing was abundantly clear after the Scarecrow's appointment with Dr. Venkman: things were not going at all well for Landel's Institute. Instead of being greeted by his nurse, the former strawman found one of the new orderlies awaiting him. The change was a surprise, but not one he would have liked.

The soldier allowed the Scarecrow to stop by the board in the Sun Room while he collected a tray of food. There was still no answer from Scar, though it wasn't entirely worrying yet- there was always the chance he'd been stricken temporarily blind again and simply hadn't seen the note. The Scarecrow resigned to try again the next day. Far more worrying was the bustle occurring around him: more dark-clad orderlies were wandering in, taking patients left and right to their rooms. The only nurses in sight stood by the door, their expressions set between nervousness and uncertainty.

But what was going on? Had there been another riot? The Scarecrow had briefly spotted a man being dragged away as they approached the entrance to the Sun Room, but it was only a single person, and he didn't look like a patient. He wouldn't be getting answers yet: the soldier returned with a tray and instructed his ward to follow him.

With stony silence as his only answer to both "Where's the nurse?" and "Did something happen?" the Scarecrow couldn't help but get a bad feeling from the whole situation. It seemed the soldiers might be around for the night. He could only hope they didn't suffer the same changes the nursing staff did- with their violent tactics and tear gas, they were bad enough already.

As soon as the door was shut behind him, the Scarecrow set his tray on his desk and went to checking his drawers, making sure all of his possessions were in place. The spare batteries were in his desk, as was the extra flashlight. He supposed he would have known if the soldiers had searched the rooms- they probably would have been far worse if they found the stolen goods. He set one pair of batteries on his desk to give to Depth Charge, heading for his mattress to see if the items he'd found in the box during the night were still there. They were, but it was good to see them himself. Better safe than sorry, after all.

More soldiers? Great. Just what he needed to see. Talking to Peter might have calmed him down somewhat, but that didn't stop Depth Charge from tensing all over as more and more black-booted soldiers began to pour into the greenhouse. What it took him longer to notice was the fact that his usual nurse had vanished in the gap; maybe he'd been too distracted by his rising suspicion to notice. Either way, he didn't exactly blame her. She might've been a screaming, mouldering killer at night, but at least she knew when there was no point in arguing.

It wasn't too surprising, then, when a soldier picked him up for his trip back- and wouldn't you know it, they'd already met. Well. In spirit. If you could count the guy staring at him for an entire shift while he pumped up on the field as 'meeting', that was. And even behind the usual, military-issue pokerface, Depth Charge could tell that he was still watching him like a hawk- like he hadn't quite done enough push-ups for his liking.

At least the man didn't try and start up any pointless conversations. Once they reached his room he gave a little noise that sounded somewhere between a grunt and a mutter, which Depth Charge took to mean that he wasn't allowed to start any roughhousing or throw any more food, before slamming the door shut behind him. Well, good night to you too, tough guy.

The Scarecrow was already waiting for him when he arrived, checking under his mattress. He slung himself down into his chair and shook his head in faint, irritable disbelief. "Typical. Looks like the military just can't seem to keep their digits outta other people's business no matter what planet they're from."

Given the recent events and how quickly the day was becoming just as bad as the night, the Scarecrow was more than a little relieved to see Depth Charge in one piece. Seeing how he sometimes let his temper get the best of him, it wouldn't have been entirely surprising if he'd been on the wrong end of the nurses' needles after the morning riot.

An extra plus was that he seemed to have some idea of what was going on. "You're familiar with these people?" the Scarecrow asked, pulling the knife, watch, key ring, leather-with-pockets, and comb from his mattress and taking them to his desk. He wondered if it was really a good idea to keep it all in one place- after all, if they did search the rooms, they'd find everything he had in that one drawer, save for the movie he kept in his pillow. Then again, he reasoned that if they were going to search the rooms, they'd have done it by now.

He took a seat in his own chair, turning to face Depth Charge. He still wasn't very hungry. "What's going on? There were still nurses around when I went to see Dr. Venkman, but when I came out, there weren't but a few in sight and these new orderlies were everywhere. They don't look much like the soldiers I know. And I can't imagine things will get any better come night."

Well. Depth Charge shifted in his chair a little, trying to put together a way of explaining himself whilst still sounding like he had a clue. Funny thing was, the Scarecrow seemed to take what he said so seriously that he didn't like the idea of letting the guy down. Stupid, really, but who ever said that emotions were reasonable?

"Not exactly. But I know the type- military boys." Yet again, he swung his legs up onto the desk, next to his plate, and gave a pensive sigh. "Think they can just storm in wherever they want and take control, and suddenly everything'll go perfectly." He almost spat out the word perfectly; it didn't taste right, somehow, like it'd soured overnight and he hadn't realised it before he tried to say it. Perfection was about as likely as Primal nuking a meadow.

As for what was going on, though- well, even he couldn't fake it. "All I know is that this place is now being run by that General Aguilar guy instead of Landel," he finished, pulling a face, "and that could mean anything at all. Just gonna have to wait and see. Shame," he added dryly, "'Aguilar's Institute' doesn't have the same ring, you know?"

Edited at 2011-02-07 07:29 pm (UTC)

The Scarecrow nodded in partial understanding. The only soldiers he knew of didn't act much like the ones that had been wandering the Institute all day. Somehow, he got the feeling disguising himself as one of them wouldn't get him far. This was one situation where it'd be best to trust Depth Charge's judgment.

"I suppose that's all we can do for now," he agreed, turning back to his desk. His eyes landed on the batteries. "Oh, that's right! I went back to the supply room last night and got you these." Grabbing the set, he offered them to his roommate.

"We also found a room with files about people who aren't here anymore," the Scarecrow continued, putting a finger to his head, "but they're all sorted by the names they've given us here. Doesn't to you much good if you don't know those names, unfortunately. I'm starting to take note of them now, should anyone else disappear. I'll be listed as Hunk Howard."

At least the Scarecrow didn't seem to have any grand adventures planned in regards to finding an explanation- Depth Charge was at least 80% sure that his roommate would have told him if he had, or that, at the very least, he wouldn't have been able to lie about it very convincingly. Then again, the idea of the Scarecrow lying to him seemed so alien to him maybe he was wrong on that last one.

And that observation only became all the more noticeable a second later, when the Scarecrow presented him with a pack of batteries.

He blinked. "Uh... thanks." They'd been out exploring and searching together, so obviously he'd known that he needed batteries, but it just seemed strange. He still wasn't used to someone else looking out for him like that, never mind someone like the Scarecrow. It felt all backwards. "Didn't have to, but- well- thanks."

Slowly, wearing a faintly incredulous expression as though the pack might explode, he swung down and got out of his chair so that he could take the batteries. The room. Upstairs. Right. Focus. "Huh? Oh, right, that room. Yeah, I've been there. Creepy, huh? It's Aaron Price, by the way."

The Scarecrow thought nothing of Depth Charge's odd reaction to the gift, taking a minute to dig for that scrap of paper with Kibitoshin's "real name" on it. Turning it to the back, he wrote in careful lettering, "Aron Price." He tucked the note back into his journal, reminding himself that he'd need to recopy those later.

"Sure was," the Scarecrow said. "I am hoping that should anyone else go missing- you know, not that I'd want that or anything, but it is a possibility- that I might be able to find out more by looking up their papers. Landel has got to be doin' something with them, and I can't just go about knowing it's happening and not doing anything about it. If only I'd thought to ask for names sooner!"

Oh, if only he could do something about those itchy eyes, as well! Maybe he hadn't washed them out as well as he was supposed to. It was just one more thing he was sure he'd have known if he had an ounce of brains (despite not being human when he had said brains, he was confident they'd have worked out the complications of a human body somehow).

"You didn't get caught in the trouble this morning, did you?" he asked as he pulled his flashlight from his desk, eyeing the watch sitting in the drawer. "I'll be honest and say I was worried you might have. It does sound like something... well... you don't seem like you're afraid of much."

The last time Depth Charge had been up there had been on a private exploration maybe a week ago, around the time Forte died and disappeared the first time, and seeing that sea of files and cabinets and papers-- if it hadn't hit him before that the kid was gone, it did at that moment, and harder than ever. The Scarecrow seemed to be taking it well; even if his sudden hurry to collect names was obviously inspired by the experience, it at least was a productive kind of reaction rather than a despairing one.

"Right. I didn't really get much of a chance to look at those papers myself, but- well." He shrugged, figuring the end of the sentence was obvious enough. Who ever knew when the night was going to end except for Martin Landel himself? "Hey, hopefully you won't need any of the ones you get now."

Hopefully being the key word.

But as the conversation shifted towards that morning, Depth Charge found himself starting to smile- faintly at first, but then more and more until he gave a chuckle. So that was how he came across?

"Kind of. Just defending my table." Technically speaking, he hadn't thrown food at any of the staff, so that counted for something. Anyway, the one person who'd ended up on the wrong side of his breakfast had deserved it. He gave the Scarecrow a lopsided grin. "Only stupid people aren't afraid of anything. Gotta pick your fights around here. Did you get out okay?"

The Scarecrow flinched as he remembered the morning: choking, burning, being trapped, having no knowledge of what was going on and being unsure if any amount of brains could have helped him, everything hurting from the inside out. It was the same unadulterated panic he felt from the thought of being on fire. He didn't know if that would have would have been the end of him, given that he was human now. He wasn't in Oz anymore.

"I got stuck under a table with a friend," the Scarecrow answered, turning back toward Depth Charge without touching his meal. Maybe his body had forgotten how to be hungry, what with how odd the day had been. "I was lettin' her copy my map, and I couldn't just leave her when it happened. I couldn't breathe and couldn't see. I thought I might be dying for a moment. I'm not really sure what that feels like, seein' how I'd never felt anything until I got here, but I imagine that'd be it."

Even with his concerns, the Scarecrow took what Depth Charge said to heart- everyone who had any brains at all had to be afraid of something. Even the Lion still held onto his tail from time to time.

"I don't suppose you have any experience in that," he continued quietly. "I wonder sometimes if I'll know if it's happening to me, should I ever get into a situation so grim. Not that I'll try, of course."

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