DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Day 27: Intercom, Noon
The Intercom
damned_intercom wrote in damned
The Head Doctor seemed a little exhausted as he gave orders over the microphone this shift, though he didn't seem to have any qualms about explaining why.

"And I do believe we're at the last few pieces of paperwork involved in obtaining and accounting for all of our new patients! Wonderful, if... somewhat exhausting!" The Head Doctor laughed, rapping his knuckles on the surface of his desk. "In any case, I'm sure our patients both old and new want to know what's on the menu for lunch, and so, here it is!

"Today, we'll be having grilled cheese sandwiches--big ones!--with cheddar cheese and mozzarella melted between two buttery, toasty slices of white bread. As sides, we have french fries, cole slaw, and a bowl of chicken noodle soup, and of course, the usual choices in both drinks and the salad bar are available as well.

"And that's all for now! ....Oh! Could our nurses escort the Group 3 patients to the cafeteria? Thank you very much!"

And once again, the intercom clicked off.

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"Mr. Hartwell… Mr. Hartwell…?"

"Oi…" Hattori Heiji growled into his pillow, "Nanyaaa… gofun mo nettai de, Kudo…" At least... that's what he thought he'd said. It actually sounded more like, "Jeeez... lemme sleep five more minutes, Kudo..."

"Mr. Hartwell, if you don't get up now you'll miss lunch!" Suddenly, Heiji's blankets were yanked off of him, a rather stern looking nurse. He looked up at her, absolutely flabbergasted, curled up on the mattress. Where the hell WAS he? And why didn't his arm hurt? He'd just been shot after all. But, then again, this woman was a nurse. Maybe he had been carted here by Kudo in the night. And oddly enough, this woman was speaking English... it sounded as though it was her native tongue. So he should speak English too, right?

Didn't stop him from being pissed off, though.

"Oi, lady--" Heiji's annoyed tone was cut off when the nurse held up her hand, her lips pursed as though daring Heiji to say something more.

"Out of bed, now," she said--implying that that, was that.

His eyebrows flew up nearly to his hairline. Heiji grit his teeth and flew into his native language. "Just who do you think you are?!"

"Mr. Hartwell, we've been through this. While you're here, you're only to speak English," She used the word as though Heiji had never heard it before. "Using that strange dialect is only fueling your delusion that you're a—"

"HOLD UP THERE, LADY," Heiji shouted, getting out of bed. Nobody insulted his accent and got away with it. At 5'11', he towered over the nurse. If looks could kill, Heiji would have a tough time covering his crime. "Osaka-ben is PERFECTLY GOOD Japanese! Y'got that?!"

"Sit DOWN Mr. Hartwell!" Heiji glared at her, but complied, dropping into the chair by his desk. Immediately he crossed his arms, giving the woman a very skeptical look.

"Just because you people can't understand me, doesn't mean I'm forbidden to speak it," Heiji said hotly, slightly unnerved that he hadn't even made an effort and his speech was coming out in English. "And for your information, I'm fine. That gunshot was just a scratch. So I'll be checking myself out and going home," Heiji said with a smug smirk. He moved to stand.

"Sit down, Mr. Hartwell," The nurse repeated. Heiji's eyebrows knit together as he straightened up. "Or I will be forced to call an orderly."

"An orderly?" Heiji repeated, thoroughly confused. "Mr. Hartwell? Have you taken one to many aspirin, lady? The name's Hattori Heiji--Detective of the West. Y'know, from the papers," Heiji added with a smug grin.

"That," The nurse began, resting a hand on Heiji's shoulder and pushing him gently back into the chair, "Is the problem, Mr. Hartwell," Was she looking at him with… pity? "You are not a Japanese detective. Your name is not Heiji Hattori—"

"Hattori Heiji," he corrected.

"Whichever," The nurse conceded with a sigh. "The point is, your name is actually Harley Hartwell, and you—"

"HARLEY HARTWELL?!" The teen detective shouted, standing up again.

Who names their kid that?! Heiji thought, horrified. The nurse waited for him to stop heaving, then continued.

"You live in Canada with your family. But recently, you've gotten it into your head that you are a famous detective from Osaka, Japan," She sighed again, "Your parents are very worried. They care deeply for you, and want you to come home as soon as possible."

Well, at least that hadn't changed. Heiji thought for a moment, "What about Kazuha? And Kudo? Where are they?"

"You mean Katie and James?" The nurse nodded, "They're very worried as well. James first noticed your condition. You started referring to him as the Detective of the East, and yourself as the Detective of the West. He thought it was odd, and then Katie confirmed it when you insisted that you two had met in Kyoto," She smiled kindly, "Katie is especially worried about you, considering the relationship you two share."

Heiji blushed, his jaw dropping slightly, "Th-that idiot! She's just making things up again! Stupid girls…"

The nurse chuckled slightly. Ah, young love. And so embarrassed! "Well Mr. Hartwell, now that you know your friends are waiting for you to come home, will you cooperate?"

Will I cooperate? To Heiji, that sounded an awful lot like a threat. There was more to this place than met the eye—he was certain of that. For one thing, he had realized while the nurse was rambling that his bandage and bullet wound were both gone. Not exactly a normal occurrence, considering he had received the wound just yesterday. Second, the nurse hadn't really answered his question: she had said they were alright, but never mentioned where they were. Were Kudo and Kazuha being held hostage here? If so, why?

Heiji flashed one of his smug grins, "Of course, oba-ha— I mean, ma'am."

With that, he followed his nurse out of the room, brow furrowed in thought. What exactly was going on here?

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