DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Day 44: Lunch
Uhh... moosen?
mizuhomaiden wrote in damned
That had been a very frustrating shower. For many reasons. At least Raine was going to at least look at Forte. Hopefully, she'll actually heal him. The showers had also succeeded in making the ninja feel like a pervert. A mild one, but still... It was as if Yukari had picked that spot in the showers because she knew the ninja could easily see her.

Ugh! Damn youkai.

Squirreling herself away in a corner of the cafeteria, Sheena finger combed her wet hair before pulling it back with the bright red ribbon. She so needed her own hair ribbon back. She was attempting to formulate her plan of acquisition - she was ninja after all - as people started trickling into the room. The plan was put on pause, though, when her stomach rumbled.

Food now - plan later.

[Closed to Haseo and Endrance]

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The food smelled inviting, but it was certainly different than anything Edgar had seen before. While he'd become accustomed to many kinds foreign delicacies during his travels, this exact concoction was somewhat unique. With a shrug, he took a bite into the food- the taste of the meat was fine once he'd gotten over the unfamiliarity of it.

The nursemaid ignored his advances once again, leaving him alone at a table for the second time that day. There were not enough lovely ladies here, the king lamented. With no one to talk to, he pulled out the journal and one of the writing utensils they'd left in his room. Maybe he could design something to make use of that pressurized tank on the second floor. That would be interesting.

[Free!]

With Harvey's mind still buzzing and aware from his conversation with Edgeworth, he was almost tempted to actually try and eat something at this meal. It would keep his mind from falling into sluggishness, since he could really only get so far with the very limited amount of food that he was getting.

Almost as if the nurse had read his mind, she suddenly brought up his lack of eating. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Eckhart! We really should have considered your condition more, but we think we've got a solution for you!" Normally he would have waved her off, but he knew perfectly well how badly he needed sustenance if he had any hope of maintaining his strength. He followed her to the side of the lunch line, where she called to one of the cafeteria workers.

A few minutes later, they brought over some sort of milkshake imitation, and he soon realized that it was one of those nutritional drinks where they packed all of your daily supplements into one unholy concoction. It would probably taste terrible, but it would actually be edible while giving him the nutrients he needed. He would just have to deal with the embarrassment; it beat trying to cram small chunks of food down his throat.

Milkshake in hand, his nurse then herded him off to sit with another unoccupied patient. Harvey paused when he realized it was the man from the janitor's closet last night - it was almost as if the nurse knew. Still, she sent him an innocent smile as she deposited him into a seat and then ran off.

Harvey glanced from his "meal" over to the stranger. This was something that would have to be dealt with carefully, since his cover could still be blown if the man asked the wrong questions and Harvey didn't already have lies constructed to answer them.

"Fancy seeing you here," he muttered as he took an experimental sip of the drink. As expected, it tasted foul, but it wasn't like his taste buds were up to par these days anyway.

Edgar looked from his light scribbling, recognizing the burned man from the previous evening. "Small world, I suppose," he said with a grin. "Or prison. One of those." He eyed the muddy gruel the man had as his meal, and was thankful for the food he'd been handed. It seemed even the most basic of tasks could become a major obstacle with a partially bandaged face.

He set his pen on the table, taking another bite. "Did you manage to find the rope you and your friend wanted the other night?"

With all the doom and gloom that was surrounding the institute today, this guy seemed to be in a good enough mood. That probably meant he was new and hadn't been exposed to enough of the institute to really start to hate it yet. Harvey didn't know what he was working on, but he got the feeling that it wasn't quite as intensive as what Edgeworth had been taking notes on. This guy hadn't even gone through the horrors of last night, had he?

Even though it was a throwaway comment, what the man said was true. This place had a lot of people, but in the end it was pretty small. Harvey still hadn't seen all of it, but the point was that he could see how it would be difficult to avoid someone here, especially during these meal shifts.

The question wasn't surprising, and Harvey gave a nod as he took another sip of his milkshake. He had to admit it was nice not having to cause himself immense pain just to eat, and his stomach was actually happy with him for the first time in days.

"Well, not rope, but extension cord. It'll work," he said with a shrug. It'd better work, anyway. Since he didn't want the man to get too fixated on that particular point, he made sure to ask a follow-up question. "How about you? Find what you were looking for?"

Edgar gave a nod, adding, "To some degree. The lady was looking for supplies for some reason- I don't recall if she ever really even told me what she was making." He looked upward thoughtfully, trying to remember all that was said during their traveling conversations. He wished he'd been more polite and paid attention, but he had been rather distracted with the new locale and lovely guide leading the way.

"As for me," he continued, "I found a set of tools, which is pretty close to what I was looking for. If nothing else, they'll keep me entertained."

He put his elbows on the table, clasping his hands together before his face. "I'm a little disappointed that I apparently lost those pressurized tanks I had in the wheelchair outside of the storage room in transition between night and day. Is it always so sudden like that?"

Tools and pressurized tanks? What was this guy, some kind of kooky handyman? It didn't really fit in with the other patients he'd encountered so far; there were attorneys, people from the police force, archaeologists, fellow Gothamites, and some other crazy (or annoying) people, but this carpentry angle was a first.

Still, maybe the man was some kind of engineering genuis. The fact of the matter was that Harvey really couldn't ask what the guy was going to use the tools for, as then he'd be expected to answer the same questions about his extension cords, and he just wasn't going to do that.

It turned out the guy had a question for him, though. Definitely new, then. At least he wasn't over-excitable and too friendly, like some of the other blonds he'd met here. "Yeah, it always is. I'm not exactly sure how it works, but I think you've got to have whatever you want to keep on your person if you want it to stay," he explained.

He considered offering his name next, but there was still a chance that this guy might find out something about him that Harvey didn't want him to find out, and in that case? The less he knew about him, the better.

"Hm, that's good to know," Edgar said, quietly musing on whether or not the tanks would have been in his room in the morning as well if he'd actually been carrying them as originally suggested. Impractical for the night hours, but if they were somehow magicked to his room in the morning along with himself? It was certainly something to consider, granted he could work them into a feasible design.

"My manners have slipped since I arrived here," he after finishing another bite. "Edgar, of Figaro," he said, offering his hand.

Well, that was bound to happen. Harvey briefly considered coming up with a fake name to give the man, but he realized that would probably just cause more problems for him in the long run. Besides, there was only one more shift after this one before they were all taken back to their rooms -- he was pretty sure he could stay under the radar for that long.

Harvey had never heard of a place called Figaro, though it sounded like it could be some obscure European city. He could have asked for clarification, but he got the feeling that he didn't want to.

He took the hand more due to an automatic response than because he was glad to be exchanging introductions. "Harvey Dent," he said, not bothering to offer his location.

"So, pressurized tanks?" he asked, giving in and letting his curiosity get the best of him. He would just dodge any questions that came his way, if need be. "Sounds like you could get pretty creative with something like that."

Edgar nodded. "That's if I can get a hold of one, that is. I'm rather fond of machinery and weaponry and the like. Let's call it a hobby of mine." He was sure he could find a use for a tank like that- propulsion could be extremely handy, especially when it came to makeshift tools.

"I've heard there are monsters of some sort here," he said as he finished his meal and took a sip of his drink. "The lady Kuukaku and I didn't see any, although we did see a few enchantments along the way to our destination. Still, granted there are beasts here, it would be nice to have something with which to defend myself and others. Designing a weapon under such circumstances is a challenge."

Edgar smiled. Challenges were another hobby he enjoyed.

Not just a handyman, then.

If this guy was familiar with constructing different kinds of weaponry, then that made him more interesting than someone Harvey had just happened to cross paths with last night. On the other hand, how much did it matter to him now? He had a metal pipe he could use for blunt force and a gun he could use for any other situation that required it. What more did he really need?

The word 'enchantments' gave him pause, but that could mean all sorts of things. Something like the horse that Harvey had been forced to deal with his first night, or maybe even like the thing that had possibly been giving him that fever the night he'd first gone to the janitor's closet.

Still, the way this guy talked was kind of off. Maybe it was the European thing again. Hell if Harvey knew.

"Weapons are definitely the first thing you want to think about here," he agreed, deciding to play it safe for now to see what else he could find out. "But what kind of stuff can you really make? I mean, it's not like we've got the greatest amount of resources available to us."

He paused and shrugged. "Then again, I studied law, not engineering. What do I know?" If he put the man in a position where he felt like he had the upper hand, that might make him more likely to spill the beans.

"Hey now," Edgar said with a small start, "The law is an important institution in society. After all, without rules and limitations, many men of lesser character would run amok, doing whatever they pleased to whomever they felt deserved it. The most vile of men make themselves known in such situations, and their ways spread like an infection." Oh, he definitely had witnessed that. One step in Zozo was proof enough.

He took a deep breath. "Trust me, I'm sure you know plenty. Your talents are in another area is all, but they are worth no less than my own. As for my talents, I'm not sure what all I can make here yet. I had it in the back of my mind to possibly use the pressurized tanks to power some sort of a projectile weapon. It'd be crude, but the gas could act similarly to steam, forcing ammunition through and out a shaft. Not sure what I'd use for ammunition yet, but I'll cross that bridge when I reach it."

He eyed the nurses warily. Aside from supplies, there was something else he wanted- his coin. He was sure the nursemaids had taken it when they'd taken his clothing. He wanted it back.

If Harvey had been able to laugh without looking like he'd gone off the deep end, he would have. What Edgar was saying was the exact sort of thing he'd once believed to be true. And to an extent, it was true. People who killed without purpose, people like the Joker? He now lived to see people like that judged for their actions. He just wasn't willing to go by the book anymore. That had been too limiting, and it definitely hadn't gotten the job done at the end of the day. What point was there to putting people behind bars when there was just more corruption lurking within the police force itself?

Still, this Edgar guy was just trying to make him feel better (even though it had been a throwaway comment in the first place), and so Harvey nodded and then devoted his attention to what the man had in mind. A projectile weapon, huh? It sounded almost medieval, with the way Edgar was describing it, and Harvey knew he would prefer a gun to that any day. Still, he'd been lucky to find one, and most other people probably wouldn't get such a chance. At least Edgar was being innovative.

He wanted to ask the man if he knew anything about how to make actual bullets, but managed to restrain himself.

"It might be crude, but the monsters here are just as crude, so... whatever works. You'll have to let me know if your project succeeds," he snuck in, trying to pass it off as innocent curiosity.

Harvey noticed the way the man was watching the nurses and figured he was worried about subtlety. "Don't sweat it too much. It's like they barely even hear us."

"I'm not concerned they're listening to us," he said before finishing his drink. "The nursemaid who has been leading me around has spent the majority of her day ignoring me, as it is." He was used to having it the other way around- people scrutinizing his every word and action. Being in the public eye killed almost any sense of privacy he'd once had.

"I suspect they took something of mine that I'd like back," the king continued quietly as he placed his empty glass on the tray. "It's nice to have tools and plans, but this was more of a sentimental trinket. Do they keep such objects somewhere? Our possessions we had prior to coming here?"

Nursemaid? What the hell was that? Maybe Harvey had just been roughened up by the way people tended to talk around Gotham, but this guy's language seemed weirdly formal. He tried to ignore it, though, and that was made simple enough when Edgar went ahead and asked him another question.

"I've heard people mention some kind of patient's possessions room on the bulletin board, but I don't know much about it," he offered. It hadn't really occurred to him that he should go there. At this point, all he needed was his coin and a gun, and he had both of those things now. There wasn't much reason for him to waste his time going to a place like that.

"I'm not sure they'll have what you're looking for, though. They like to try and take away everything that relates to our lives." They had been smart enough to leave him the coin, though. Harvey reached subtly into his pocket so that he could double check that it was still there. He felt genuine relief when his fingers touched metal.

"I see," Edgar said, irritated that they'd take so much of his equipment in the first place. He could live without his tools and weapons- he could always make more, or even better ones once he returned home- and he'd survive the wretched garb, but his prized possession was irreplaceable. He'd never forgive himself if he lost it.

"Why is that?" he asked, still curious as to the motivations behind this place. "I hear the people here are from all sorts of realms, but why is it they gather us here and take away possessions relating to our lives?"

Realms? Was this someone else who believed in that different worlds theory? Harvey found himself holding back a sigh as he tried to take the man's question seriously. But he did have to wonder: how could some of the people here be so opposed to being institutionalized when they obviously needed it?

Not that it was his job to try and help them off of their crazy train, and it was for that reason that he went ahead and answered Edgar's question anyway. "Because they want us to think that the life we know is all just some huge delusion that we conjured up. Don't ask me why, but that's the idea." Then again, the real purpose of this place seemed to be the physical and psychological torture they were put through at night, but he figured the other man had already realized that himself. And if not, he would soon.

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