DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Day 41: Intercom, Afternoon
New Intercom
damned_intercom wrote in damned
When the intercom's jingle rang through the Institute's speakers, the Head Doctor sounded a little more rushed than usual.

"Paperwork, paperwork," he sighed. There was a scratching sound, as if he was rubbing his face. "In any case, this activity shift, as per usual, is a reverse of the last; children in the Courtyard and adults in their respective showers. Newcomers have already been cleaned upon arrival; as such, they may spend their shift with the children in the Courtyard or relaxing in the Sun Room."

The Head Doctor paused, as if realizing how he was sounding more like a certain other person who also did intercom announcements. Still, it did nothing to help his brevity.

"In any case, I'll talk to you after the next shift!"

The intercom clicked off.

[ All introduction posts for this shift's group of new characters should be made in response to this post.

Have your character wake up in a random room as we don't have roommates sorted out yet. Putting M??/F?? in the subject line is fine. ]

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The moment that Alfred slipped back into consciousness, he knew that something was wrong. The smell of the sheets that he was currently sandwiched between, although clean, was not right. Nor was the way they felt against the little of his skin that was exposed. His pillow also felt…. oddly lumpy? Alfred opened his eyes and sat up, surveying the plain, white room – and his own (sad) state of dress.

It appeared that whomever had managed to successfully abduct him had seen fit to take away his clothes as well. Alfred raised one unimpressed eyebrow at their choice of clothing: a gray sweat set, with a large, yellow smiley face happily displaying itself on the front of the top. Interesting. But, in the overall scheme of things, misplaced clothes seemed to be the least of his worries.

The room that he was in was almost too uniform. It was as if it was one room that had been created with a simple cookie cutter design that had made hundreds of other, identical, rooms. Everything was done in sets of two. There were two beds, one against each wall, with a dresser between them, two desks, and what appeared to be two closets – he didn’t move to check them just yet. The only thing in the room that wasn’t part of a matching set was the lack of another person in the second bed and a door that looked as though it was the way out.

Alfred got out of bed, walking around the desk at its foot to slide open the closet door for inspection. Perhaps more suitable clothing would be located in there. A quick survey revealed that the closet held nothing helpful as far as clothing was concerned. He put on the slippers that he’d found on the closet floor, and turned around to face the desk. There was a journal and a radio on top of the desk. Neither appeared to be anything out of the ordinary, so he reached for the desk drawer when he door that he’d noted previously opened to reveal a woman dressed as a nurse, and Alfred pulled his hand back, “I see that you’ve woken up. Come along Mr. Quartermain,” she addressed him. “Why don’t we go meet some of the other patients?”

“Pennyworth, ma’am.” Alfred corrected, moving away from the desk so that he could comply with the nurse’s request. Patients? A frown momentarily creased his brow before his normal, almost bored, expression settled back into place.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s Mr. Pennyworth, ma’am. I can assure you that I have no connection to this ‘Mr. Quartermain’.”

“Well, I have you on my list as ‘Henry Quartermain’, although your confusion is understandable. You’ve only just arrived, after all. You’ll find that many people here have identity issues, Mr. Quartermain, so you’re not alone.” The nurse turned, clearly expecting Alfred to follow her, and started off down the hallway.

He followed the nurse without further comment, his mind piecing the facts together. The conclusion, however, was rather puzzling. Alfred studied the other “patients” being shuffled through the hallways by their own nurses. Most of them appeared to be sane, but that wasn’t much proof either way. Although he was unclear on how he had ended up here. It was possible, if unlikely, that all of these people had been kidnapped.

“Here you are, Mr. Quartermain.”

“Pennyworth, ma’am.” Alfred retorted.

The nurse ignored him, steering the taller man through the hallways, towards a door.

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