DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Day 43: Waiting Room / Lobby 1
Shiny
arc_wrench wrote in damned
Well, today was certainly turning out to be... interesting. A few things seemed to be going as planned, for once! Soon, he might not have to deal with so many actual meatbags quite so often! It made his personality core very nearly glow with excitement.

And the latest comms message was intriguing. So, he was going to be meeting a 'graduate' of this wretched place? This all confirmed the theory he'd had within his first minutes trapped within this facility: brainwashing was one of the goals of this place.

Well, whoever he was supposed to meet, he would make sure they'd leave trailing shattered pieces of their composure and sanity! HK settled down in one of the chairs in the lobby to wait expectantly.

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Alfred barely had time to raise an eyebrow in interest at the latest announcement before his nurse was behind him, clearing his tray from the table and ushering him out of the cafeteria. She led him into a new room full of fellow "patients" and motioned for him to take a seat in one of the chairs. "Why don't you have a seat, Mr. Quartermain. I'm sure your visitor will be along shortly."

He nodded, sitting in one of the empty chairs as his nurse exited the room. He'd read about "visitors" on the bulletin, but he was uncertain about who, exactly would be brought to visit him.

None of the other people in the room looked very excited over the prospect of having someone come to see them. Although, if the bulletin could be believed, who could blame them, really?

The announcement, though, had said that they would be meeting with people who had "graduated" from this place. Alfred wasn't close with anyone that he knew had been in a mental hospital, unless... Dana was in a mental hospital. but it certainly hadn't been this one, and the last Alfred had heard, she was still there. He frowned to himself, wondering if she would be his visitor. It did seem like that would be the most logical choice, provided that the people who ran this place knew anything about him.

Bright day out, but cold. Donny kicked at the ground as Mama went through the paperwork, impatient.

He didn't care for the details, but the fucking Institute's staff did. It was rare of Mama to suggest a visit of this kind, however, so he had to listen. Still, that didn't mean he had to understand or like that he had to put up with this kind of crap just for some patient visiting session. Especially since the patient Mama said he'd visit wasn't the one he wanted to see at all.

They made it clear your father said no one was to trouble him during his stay.

This was his decision.


...Donny kicked the ground again.

By the time he was finally let in, his patience had already been worn thin. Casting a condescending glance at the nutcases around him, Donny felt hardly more than anything but contempt as he walked up to the man who was waiting for him.

"Grandpa," Donny said, back straight and still. Nothing shone on his face as he spoke to his grandfather for the first time in months, separated as they were, even before the incident.

"I'm here to see you."

Most of the other "patients" had already received their visitors, Alfred noted, glancing around the room. Each of them seemed to be handling their situation differently - some seemed glad to have a visitor, while others were indifferent, or, in at least one case, mildly horrified.

He did wonder, though, who exactly they would pick. Timothy and Jason were already here... And so, apparently was Bruce. Alfred was looking across the room when he noticed someone approaching him in his peripheral vision. He turned...

Grandpa

Alfred's eyebrows shot up. Well. This was... unexpected. Of all the people that could have possibly come to visit him, Damien wouldn't have been someone he expected. He also couldn't imagine Damien calling him "grandpa". Not only was he unrelated to the boy, but the look he was currently receiving suggested that Damien was currently feeling less than agreeable.

"Grandpa, Master Damien?"

Master Damian? Did Grandpa Henry just call him Master Damian?

Donny blinked, though the expression of confusion was quickly masked by a look of disgust. Master Damian...ha. So what Mama and everyone else had said about Grandpa and Tim and Dick finally joining the nuthouse was true.

....true.

"You're not my master, Grandpa. Stop playing at this and talk to me properly."

Donny did not bother taking a seat, but he took a step closer and spoke a bit more quietly.

Was he supposed to simply believe that this boy was someone that had been found by the doctors here, or had Damien been brainwashed, as the bulletin had suggested. Should Alfred go along with Damien?

It was unsettling, but - Stop playing at this and talk to me properly - perhaps, given Damian's attitude, it would be best to play along.

"My apologies." Alfred trailed off, momentarily, unsure how he should address this particular version of Damian. He seemed to think Alfred was his grandfather, so it wouldn't be appropriate to address the boy in a formal manner. It didn't help that he'd probably been given a different name.

He smiled at the boy, though his eyes looked more sad than anything else, "It's good to see you again, Damian. it has been rather lonely here. You must excuse me from my little games. My mind seems to be slipping in its old age."

A skeptical look came over Donny's face. A look that faded when he saw the emotion in his grandfather's eyes and stood suddenly more still.

"Your mind doesn't slip, Grandpa," he said in the same cold voice. This time, however, there was an undercurrent beneath the words that was unmistakable. As if he'd finally understood the situation.

"My name's Donny."

Turning, the boy found a spare seat nearby and, without a word, dragged it over. There was a fluid efficiency to his movements that suggested a fighter's.

He hadn't intended to stay long--simply get the information he needed and get out. Donny had never been particularly close to his father's family, having been raised by his mother, nor had he ever found reason to accept the "brothers" his father would insist he work with. Bastard that he was, Donny was the one true son of Bruce Wayne, and the realization years ago that his father had only ever seen Dick and Tim had hurt him. He'd kill before admitting it, though. Even when he had stayed in his father's house, Grandpa Henry was the only one who truly interacted directly with him. Who asked him what he wanted to eat and attempt to teach him "normal."

So it was strange-- their positions now. Donny on the "sane" side, Grandpa on the "not." He looked up at Grandpa with a new, judging glint to his eyes--but also no small amount of blatant confusion and curiosity. His grandfather seemed sad, but Donny couldn't imagine why. He'd never seen that look on his grandparent before, and he didn't know how to deal with it now. It was a useless emotion, anyway.

"How's Father?"

Donny? Well, at least he'd gotten the first letter right. It was excusable, he supposed, to not know what sort of name they'd given to this Damian look-a-like. After all, he was supposed to be certifiably insane, right? Certainly his "grandson" would expect things to be somewhat less than ordinary from what they were "supposed" to be.

At least next time (if there was a next time) he'd know what to call the boy. Provided that they didn't decide to change that, as well. Alfred watched, wordlessly, as the boy dragged a chair over and sat in it. There really was very little that set his apart from the Damian that Alfred knew back home, aside from his comment that his name was Donny now.

"My sincere apologies, Donny. I must have forgotten." Alfred studied the boy's face, seeing nothing that gave him away - nothing that would set him apart from Damian Wayne. And with Batman recently-

How's father?

Alfred blinked at the unexpected question. Well. It shouldn't have been entirely unexpected, knowing Damian, but this wasn't quite the same thing. "I presume you mean Bruce, Donny?" He was careful with his wording, certain that 'Master Bruce' would bring about more awkwardness. "He appears to be having some difficulty, although I have yet to speak with him in person since my arrival here. Do you wish for me to tell him something from you, Donny?"

Donny gave his grandfather another long look. So Grandpa really had forgotten, and it wasn't just a game. Not that Grandpa's games had ever worked too well with Donny, anyway. The two of them never played by the same rules, usually.

"Yes, my father. Bruce Wayne."

There was no hesitance in his voice when he spoke, no trace of shame even despite his father's newfound status as a patient in a mental ward. He'd been abandoned, and it wasn't often that Father truly wanted him. But their bond was undeniable, and Donny would always proclaim ownership. Yes, he wanted to know what happened with Father. Especially since Father wasn't actually insane. Everyone knew the man'd pleaded insanity only to escape the death penalty. And Donny thought that stupid bitch of a "wife" deserved to die, anyway.

Again, he ignored his grandfather's question.

"When's he coming back?"

Alfred met Damian's eyes as the boy stared at him, his gaze unwavering.

Yes, my father. Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne.


So he hadn't been given an alternate name, apparently. And he was still the father of... Donny. Not to mention that his attitude, and how he talked about Bruce, and...

When's he coming back?

"I'm not quite sure what you mean, young sir. Why, exactly has your father been admitted here?" Alfred wasn't sure how much he should play along with this Damian doppelganger, but it couldn't hurt to try and get information from the boy about what was supposedly going on here.

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