DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Day 43: Sun Room
animated
arc_wrench wrote in damned
Why does this place always have to spoil my fun? was the first thing HK thought when he realized he was back in his cell in the Institute. Oh well. This meant his nurse would be coming soon to lead him off to whatever boring place he was supposed to go to now.

The meatbag arrived a few moments later, asking him in an overly cheerful tone if he slept well. HK responded with and equally cheerful "Statement: I was having the most wonderful dream. A dream of killing all humans." He managed to make a facial expression for best effect: A happy, terrifying grin. "And I think you were in it," he finished with an especially gleeful note.

The nurse nearly dragged him all the way down to the Sun Room. Success! He took a seat in one of the chairs, feeling smug.

[Free!]

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Asch had no idea how he'd gotten back to the institute. He'd been with that man, they'd been trying to get to the housing developments, there were dead people coming to life or something...

And now here he was in a bed. Not his bed, just some bed in a hospital, in a room that looked like every other room. The only sign that anything was different was waiting under his pillow. He felt something hard under there, and when he moved the pillow, the kitchen shears were waiting there. They were attached again, back in one piece, but...

How had he gotten back here? Was the man he'd saved still alive and all right? He hoped so. He'd never forgive himself if something had happened to that guy. That guy wasn't going to fare very well against the living dead, or monsters, or anything of the sort. He tried to keep his hopes up, as best as he could. He wasn't really one for stupid things like hope, but if he'd made it back here somehow, then that guy probably had, as well. He hadn't caught his name, but hopefully he'd be able to find something out about him.

He stashed the shears in the closet with the pipes and the scalpel. The nurse came to collect him. He tuned her out as best as he could, though he almost bit through his tongue trying to keep quiet when she called him Luke. It was like they'd assigned him that name just to push his buttons. Her vapid smile didn't help the situation any.

She led him off to the Sun Room, smiling the whole way. He followed without complaint. Apparently his other choice was the Chapel, but he had no need for anything like that. He'd long since stopped believing in anything at all. The Score sure hadn't been worth anything. Van's ideals were twisted, but he agreed that the Score, and the reading and the worship of it, were things that had to be gotten rid of. Any kind of worship left a bad taste in his mouth just to think of, so the Sun Room was fine with him.

He checked the bulletin board. So the man he'd saved was alive, that was good. Someone obnoxious had left some note to him, probably one of the replica's friends. Typical.

He left his own short reply and wandered off to sit on a couch and think about the insanity that had taken place during the night - and how they'd gotten back here.

[Alfred]

The transition from fighting zombies, to waking up back at the institute was slightly disorienting, even it was a relief that the fight appeared to have ended. Alfred frowned as he got out of bed, thinking over the events of last night, and hoping that Timothy, and the man with the sunglasses, were all right as well. He turned around to see what had been poking him in the back when he'd woken up, pulling up his pillow to reveal the meatcleaver that he'd grabbed. It was still wrapped up and brand new, but Alfred had no use for it, at the moment, so he put the pillow back over it.

Then his nurse bustled into the room, cheerful and determined as she'd been the other times that Alfred had seen her. After she'd ensured that his slippers were secured on his feet, (and after a few exchanges of "Mr. Quartermain", "Pennyworth, ma'am.") Alfred was hustled out of his room and back into the Sunroom. This was where they'd taken him first thing the day before last, but it didn't make sense that they wouldn't feed their patients before allowing them to engage in "leisure" activities.

Before Alfred could question the woman about it, though, she was steering him over to an agitated-looking young man with long red hair.

"Here you are, Mr. Quartermain! Why don't you talk with Luke here? The two of you look like you could be great friends!" She beamed at him before hurrying off.

Alfred looked down at the teenager in front of him, finding himself confronted, once again, with an angry youth. And he had no idea if his company was welcome, or would be well received. He assessed the situation quickly, opting to sit on the couch with the young man, keeping a respectable distance.

"Good morning, young sir. I don't suppose that you would happen to know if zombie infestations are a normal occurrence around here? Or if one usually wakes up with a souvenir of such events hidden under their pillow?" Alfred raised an eyebrow in question.

Asch glared at the nurse and bit down to keep from mouthing off at her. He knew that they called everyone by things that weren't their names, but why did they have to call him Luke? Technically, that was his name. Why didn't he get stuck with something out of the ordinary? This place sure pissed him off. What a way to start a morning.

He looked up at the old man, warily. He hadn't run into anyone as old as this guy seemed to be, and he found himself wondering what point there was in kidnapping old people. But then, there were some really young ones here, too; he'd seen them wandering around. This place was seriously screwed up.

"I have no idea about zombies," he said, after a moment's hesitation, "but I've heard some pretty crazy things. I guess at this point, animated dead bodies might as well be par for the course."

He actually looked interested when Alfred mentioned something under his pillow. "Wait, under your pillow? That happened to me this morning."

Alfred watched the young man glare after the nurse with interest. The name that she'd given him had certainly seemed to set him off. But then again, it wasn't as thought they called the "patients" here by there real names, so it was understandable that somebody might be angry about it. After all, people handled things differently.

After the initial look that he'd been given, Alfred wasn't sure if the teenager would even speak with him. It would seem that his nurse had developed some sort of urge to force his company upon irritable young men who seemed as though they'd rather be left alone. He wondered, briefly, if Jason had managed to stay in one piece since he'd last seen him, and then the boy in front of him was talking, and Alfred redirected his thoughts to the present.

"I'm aware that there are creatures here at night that make it a habit of attacking the people who are considered patients, but the young man that I met a few nights ago didn't happen to mention an undead problem. Although there do seem to be individuals among the "patient" population who are accustomed to dealing with such occurrences, wherever it is that they're from." He thought back to the man that had been with Tim last night. He hadn't managed to get the man's name, but he'd claimed to be some sort of "zombie expert."

Alfred looked mildly interested, as well, when his companion mentioned that a similar incident had happened to him. "Indeed. It was most peculiar, young sir. I'd managed to gather quite a few items during the course of the night, but when I woke up back at the institute, the only thing left was a meat cleaver under my pillow, and the baseball cap that I was given at the beginning of the day yesterday. Neither of which is particularly useful to me."

Asch frowned. "I really hadn't heard about anything like this, either. I don't know if we were meant to get stuck in town, or if that was some slip-up on the part of the stupid head doctor, or whoever's running this place."

He pushed his hair back out of his face, irritated. He'd meant to get some goddamn hair gel or something in the town, but there hadn't ended up being a chance for that.

"I woke up with the kitchen shears I found in Tasty Burger under my pillow. They were clean, though, and put back together. I used them against the zombies, but..." He paused. "Meat cleaver? That sounds way more useful than those stupid shears. I'll trade you if you want."

"I'm unsure about whether or not our being left in town was intentional, although it doesn't seem that anything that occurs here is left to chance. The person who's in charge of this institute seems to be rather deliberate in all that they do. I suppose, however, that it may have been unintentional if the doctor was otherwise engaged, as the notes on the bulletin suggest. I don't know if I believe that something has, indeed, happened to him, although the 'patients' have been presenting with evidence indicating this development to be true. Perhaps that's simply what they want us to believe."

Alfred raised an eyebrow as the young man irritably pushed his hair out of his face and continued talking. "Kitchen shears, young sir?" Well that was interesting. Although, he couldn't really comment on the oddness of the situation, since he'd woken up to a similar predicament. "I'm certain that I would be able to put a pair of shears to good use. If you would like, an exchange seems as though it would be beneficial." He wasn't really certain if it would be a good idea to arm someone with something like a meat cleaver, but there were dangers present in the institute at night, and the boy seemed familiar with combat. Alfred was more concerned about the chances that the knife would have to be turned upon another 'patient', or someone more inoccent than the creatures that plagued this place at night. Still, he seemed decent enough. Alfred made a mental note to keep his eyes open for knife wounds. If someone were to be injured as a result of him handing over the knife, he would know and find a way to rectify the situation.

"I apologize for my rudeness, young sir. I quite forgot to introduce myself. Alfred Pennyworth, at your service."

Asch was slightly taken aback by the man's politeness. At your service? It seemed almost out of place here. He supposed that ZEX was polite enough, but he was so weird, and kind of invasive. And this man wasn't really being patronizing; it was like he was honestly just that polite. It made Asch wonder what kind of job he had back in his own world.

"...Asch," he said, at length, "I'm Asch." He almost added a 'nice to meet you,' but that seemed weird and out of place. Not to mention that he wasn't really the kind of person to say that. It probably wouldn't have sounded nice at all, if he'd said it.

"You can have the shears, that's fine. I've been trying to get a sword, but apparently the wait time is really long. I think a meat cleaver would be way more useful than anything I've got right now."

So the boy that the nurses had called Luke was actually Asch. Alfred would remember that. After all, the nurses ignored his attempts to correct them on his name. If he should ever need to ask the nurses something about this teenager, he'd be sure to refer to him as "Luke." For now, however, Asch it would be.

Alfred nodded. "I found a pipe the night before last. It has been working out rather nicely for me. I was unaware that one could acquire actual weapons here." he paused, seeming to consider something. "Would it be acceptable to meet and exchange these items at room M98? That's were I am currently staying."

He looked towards the door as the intercom sounded, seeing his assigned nurse making her way towards them. "I shall see you at the beginning of night, then, young sir?"

Asch nodded. M98. He'd have to remember that. "Yeah, that sounds fine to me," he said. He glanced up to see the nurse coming. Great. That meant being ushered off to who-knew-where, yet again. He really wanted to get the hell away from the nurses, because they pushed his buttons. But for now, it was easier to just go along.

"I'll see you then," he added, half-distracted by the nonsense spewing out of the intercom.

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