A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Night 54: Extra Storage
[blue eyes]
girlsandgadgets wrote in damned
[From here.]

The lock gave way more easily than its predecessor, popping after only a single, solid hit. After a moment of silent hesitation, waiting for anything inhabiting the room to announce its presence, Edgar stepped inside. Admittedly, it wasn't all that different from the first storage closet: more odds and ends, from cans to cables, lined the shelves while one wall was host to several strange contraptions and ladders. The centerpiece of the room was a cart presumably used by the cleaning staff.

Edgar's nose wrinkled as he headed for the series of strange machines sitting along the only wall without shelves. The reek shouldn't have been a surprise, given the cleaning products on every shelf. His initial steps were cautious as he approached the cart, returning to his usual pace once he was sure there was nothing lurking behind it. "After all," he continued, "some people go missing after only a few days, while I know of others who have been here for well over a month. And then there are those who return, with or without their memories of having been here."

He knelt beside the first contraption, examining the bag attached to the back. "Finding the answers to who and why certain people are released, and what is the reason we were called here in the first place, is proving to be difficult enough. We can't give up, though. We all have our reasons for moving forward."
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And what's your reason, Figaro?, L wondered. Those weren't the questions that were foremost in his own mind, but they weren't foolish ones, either.

This room was much like the last one, and appeared to be about as safe. The differences were that it was easily twice the size of the previous room, that it was where the heavier machinery was kept (vacuums and a carpet steamer), and that once he'd finished shining the beam of his torch into all the dark corners, L could see that the offerings here were more complex. For example, the variety of tools kept here was more reminiscent of the hardware store in Doyleton than of the outer room.

Then, something struck him: the previous room had been so cluttered that it was difficult to move through it without knocking anything over. How often do the vacuum cleaners or the work cart ever leave this area? Has anyone ever even seen a janitor doing his job here? Landel's had the bandages-and-antiseptic reek of a hospital during the day, but who was maintaining it? The same people who could repair a shattered skylight in an hour or two?

"I've been told that I'm one of the people who has returned, but I don't have any memory of having been here before." He spoke slowly, calmly; he could give up this much information. It would help establish rapport, which might have a payoff far exceeding his investment. It didn't seem like there were many people around anymore who remembered his previous stay. "There's some indication that Landel can play tricks with time, although the exact nature of them... it's hard to say whether or not it's important." --If 'altverse' means "alternate universe," however, he thought, it's intrinsic to our situation. It touches on the idea that we can supposedly be pulled here from any time or place, but not the mechanism itself.

Considering the situation along those lines required a suspension of skepticism that he resented on principle. He made a soft noise, Hrmph!, and turned his attention to the shelves. More of the same.

A cleaning sponge caught his attention, and he considered it in the context of the other things he had seen. There must be ammonia around here somewhere; there was bleach in the last room. Soak a few sponges with that and you could kill us all--or soak one in a solvent and set it on fire. It was evident that anyone looking to wreak havoc could find more than enough raw material in the Institute's storage areas; furthermore, he unchanging nature of the place meant that if you poured everything that you thought might be hazardous down the drain, it would be back the next morning. L hadn't had trouble in this corridor, but some people did. That might be for the best.

"We should move on."

Edited at 2011-03-06 08:44 am (UTC)

Edgar looked over his shoulder as Ryuuzaki mentioned he was one of those who had been readmitted to Landel's. Like Aerith, he claimed to have no memory of his previous stay. What was it that determined whether or not one remembered? It was just one more answer he didn't have... and one more he had a feeling wouldn't come anytime soon.

He stood at Ryuuzaki's urge to continue moving, giving the room one last scan to make sure he'd not missed anything vital. If he was coming back another night (and he was quite sure at this point that he would be), he could save a closer inspection of some of the machines in the room for then. "I've suspected for some time that I'm one of the returned patients," he admitted, vocalizing it for the first time. "It was the way a friend- one from before my arrival, and it was a surprise to find her here- addressed me. If that is the case, I'm also one who has no memory of his previous capture. On the other hand, she might have cracked under the stress of her imprisonment. She was here for weeks before my arrival, and claimed she was kidnapped soon after an event long before... well, the last time I saw her." That was a story for another time. Matters got complicated when one brought the end of the world into a conversation.

Edgar sighed, keeping his back to Ryuuzaki as he paused. There was a chance she'd still be within the walls of the institute if he hadn't pressed her. Celes had her demons, but she wasn't weak. Whatever caused her to break... it had to have been weighing on her heavily. He felt minor relief that she wasn't being tortured within Landel's institute anymore; however, the implication that she'd either been stripped of her identity and released into this world or was dead wasn't reassuring in the least.

And then, there was the lingering thought of how he could have possibly traveled with her, traversing the Floating Continent and witnessing her ultimate display of loyalty, if she'd been captured shortly after her performance at the opera. He rubbed the space between his eyes, making a mental note to look into the technicalities of time magic when he returned home. And that was when, not if.

Edgar turned and headed through the door, brushing past Ryuuzaki on the way out.

[To here.]

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