DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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NIGHT 54: M11-M20 Hallway
couldn't hold me back;;
deathandgin wrote in damned
To the individuals who participated in this morning's insubordination: know that you're in part responsible for what happens tonight.

"I wasn't even here then," Alaric sighed under his breath, feeling under his pillow for the flashlight he'd found during dinner. He was starting to catch on to the game, if that's all this really was - this kind of showed that someone wanted them to go outside. He imagined no one was really going to say no to the mystery, which was the perfect draw. Mystery and a little push out the door.

At least he'd gotten one answer to his questions; what he'd been waiting for was the audible click of the door as soon as another announcement started ringing through the room. A timed system, then? He didn't know anything about prisons outside of riots that had actually led to something (and maybe a little fascination with the Bastille), so it was all guesswork on his part.

Well, at the very least, he didn't have to worry about sticking with Indiana Jones or wondering around in the dark all night until he got eaten by bloated rats or whatever. Having a plan was good. It wasn't exactly solid, but that's how he got things done, whether lesson plans or plans for dinner. Alaric barely needed the push to make the step outside the door frame, flipping the switch of the light on and taking a moment to realize... everything looked goddamn different.

Great.

F30... f for female. His deductive skills were only going to get him so far, considering he had no idea where the female block was. At this rate, he would've preferred a map over a flashlight.

He had a start, though; he'd obviously need to leave the block his room was in first. Alaric had been paying attention to the path his nurse (and later, the guard) had been taking to bring him to and fro from the room (M17 he repeated in his head a few times), so he turned right from outside his door, tentatively beginning his slow walk through the darkness in nothing but slippers.

Slippers which failed him after only seven steps. He caught the tip on something, tripping forward and dropping his flashlight. The light cracked against the tile, sputtering pathetically before clicking off.

Surrounded by complete darkness, Alaric just stared at where he thought the light had landed. Surely God did not hate him this much. There was no way his luck was this bad, and he was thinking that after his wife had dumped him to be a vampire. "You have got to be kidding."

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Gren's words were proven true almost immediately as the intercom came to life, an unknown voice taking over in Landel's absence. There was no pretense this time around, no skirting the issue that they were ultimately playings at the mercy of a madman: the speaker announced a project- Project 2911- and that changes were not only occurring during the following days, but during that night as well.

"I guess that answers that question," Edgar mused darkly. "I think it's safe to assume they have knowledge of what happens during the night, and aren't afraid to use it to their advantage. So much for the friendly institution facade."

At least he and Gren were on the same page: it was becoming clear from the experiments and brainwashing that Landel had research (and arguably torture for his amusement) somewhere in mind. Now that the military had taken over and was continuing the work without delay, Edgar had to agree with Gren's assessment of Landel possibly having been hired to keep the place running; however, given Landel's reaction to being stripped of his position, the man had more than a little personal investment in his work. Was it simple, that he was angry he'd not have his toys to play with anymore? Or was there something else that Landel kept hidden from Aguilar's watch?

If Landel's was anything like the Magitek Research Facility... That was still a grim thought.

As for Gren's personal experience in the matter, the tale would have to wait for another day, if it came at all. While he didn't want to pry, Edgar knew that any personal insight into a similar situation could prove useful; however, he had a meeting to make.

"We'll have to continue this conversation later," he noted, grabbing the lab coat and shovel from his closet. "But for now, it looks like you're not far off the mark." From his desk, he took the flashlight and Luxord's radio, sliding the latter out from under the ceremonial knife. He tucked his journal into his coat before heading back to the toolkit in his closet, grabbing a few spare tools and pocketing them as well. He wasn't sure where they'd be going, but luck favored the prepared.

"Be careful out there," he said over his shoulder as he headed out the door. "We might need caution more tonight than any other so far."

"Sure thing." He was more than happy to leave that particular topic of conversation for later so he had time to work out just how much information he wanted to tell Edgar. He trusted his roommate, but complete honesty wasn't necessarily the best policy in all cases. Well, that wasn't something to worry about now.

He walked over to the closet while Edgar packed up, and nodded as the other left the room. "Take care of yourself out there."

He pulled the shovel out of the closet, then went back to his desk to retrieve the flashlight. It was a considerably lighter load than he'd taken on previous night, but he didn't want to be weighed down. He took one last moment to steel his resolve--he wasn't going to run from this--and stepped out into the hall to see what the night would bring.

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