A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Day 47: Intercom, Evening
New Intercom
damned_intercom wrote in damned
Yet another intercom jingle sounded, and the nurses, anticipating the Head Doctor's orders, already began grouping around the patients as he began to speak.

"Good evening, everyone and I trust you all enjoyed your fun day of physical activity! I sure wish I had! Aha! Anyway, our dinner tonight is some spaghetti with our ol' homemade Landel's marinara sauce, served with garlic bread and a Caesar salad. Our usual assortment of drinks and vegetarian alternatives is available, and our dessert for tonight is vanilla gelato ice cream with chocolate sauce.

"I do hope that sounds palatable to everyone! I will be speaking with you again shortly!"

The intercom clicked off.

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. Find new room assignments here. This shift's intro group is here. ]

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The jingle from the intercom was enough to awaken the Scarecrow, who had asked to return to his room shortly after lunch- the nurse was kind enough to oblige, given the condition of his head. He thought he'd take Remy's advice and try his hand at a nap, though it occurred to him once he'd arrived in the room that he wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to go about getting to sleep. After a few minutes debating whether or not he should ask his nurse how she did it, he decided to try lying on the bed quietly and closing his eyes. It seemed to work for everyone else, so why not him?

Keeping his eyes shut, while it kept out the light, did next to nothing for his head. Curse that Wizard Landel and his experiments! How someone could be so cruel as to actually want to inflict pain on perfect strangers was beyond the strawman. Even worse was that there was seemingly nothing to be done against him- the Scarecrow had been here over a week, and he was no closer to getting his body back and getting home than when he first arrived. Doubly troubling was that he was reconsidering his stance on his existence entirely: before arriving at the Institute, he'd been perfectly content to be the wisest being in Oz, sitting on the throne with his farm-worn clothes and straw body and Doctorate in Thinkology; however, now that he had the experience of a human body and all the sensations that came with it (yes, even pain), he wasn't sure he'd be content to go back to the way things were.

Then there was that thought he'd had earlier- what if he could just get over that wall that surrounded the building? Climbing over it and running seemed like a decent idea, save for one catch: he couldn't leave his friends behind. That was completely out of the question, especially after all folks like Depth Charge and Mele had done for him. Being a coward was no better than being brainless, and-

The intercom broke the silence, startling the Scarecrow. It couldn't be dinner already- so little time had passed! He peered at his desk- the usual dinner tray was sitting on his desk, though he'd never even heard the nurse return to the room. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and trying to avoid that room-spinning sensation. He must have been asleep and not known it. How strange!

In good news, his head felt more reliable, though now it was his stomach that was complaining. The fact that he'd eaten like a bird for the first two meals of the day was the likely culprit. It could wait- he needed another minute to gather his thoughts.

So Ratchet the Medic wasn't exactly the pinnacle of Autobot diplomacy and grace the history databooks liked to make out those guys were. Big deal. The real problem was that he seemed to have convinced himself that Depth Charge had a couple of wires loose in the old logic circuits- the whole 'I am from your future' thing probably hadn't helped, that was true, but like Pit he was about to lie for the sake of one measly ally's trust. That was just a little too close to politicking for his liking.

Still. Was it really one? Admittedly, throwing out that bulletin to find the other 'bots here hadn't exactly been a smart move while Landel was still throwing a hissy fit over four-letter words, yet even that hadn't been a completely pointless endeavour. While 'Music Meister' wiseguy was about as genuine as that Sparklebot or whatever he'd called himself, just before the post had been taken down he'd spotted a more likely candidate: whoever it was who'd answered Music Meister had known a Soundwave. And if that definitely wasn't Lockdown or Lugnut, that meant...

He was getting ahead of himself. It didn't matter to him much anyway- he wasn't about to play prize Maximal when he already had plans for the night. Hime might not have been his first choice of teammate for taking on the Institute, but she had guts and a slagload of determination, and that was something he could appreciate. He just had to hope the rest of her team were up to scratch.

When Depth Charge arrived at his room, he found his train of thought promptly derailed. The Scarecrow. In the flesh. He hadn't seen him since the night before, and as far as he was concerned the written word was a pretty pathetic stand in for the real deal; the dull thud of relief that hit him as he saw the man sitting up on the bed- tired-looking, but very much alive- was extremely welcome. Good. Rest was good for humans. A bed wasn't exactly a CR tank, but if it did the job he didn't have the patience to complain about it.

"Feeling any better?" he asked, swinging his chair around to face his roommate and tilting his head to one side. Kind of a stupid question, given what the Scarecrow had been put through, but Depth Charge got the feeling he'd be forgiven.

Only a few minutes after the intercom sounded, and in came Depth Charge- just the man the Scarecrow wanted to see at that moment. He'd been able to thank Sangamon Taylor at lunch, but hadn't spotted his roommate throughout the day. He gave his roommate a smile as he entered, gladder to see him than he had been in days.

"I think so," he replied, careful not to hit the wound on his head as he ran a hand through his hair. "My head has been acting strangely all day, complaining and... well, I had a nap and it's doing better than it was." There were other issues, and while he'd been advised to talk about them, he wanted to get one thing out first.

"Really, thank you for coming and finding me and getting me out of that awful place last night." He looked away for a second at his hands, following a stray thought in the back of his mind: he wondered if this was what happened to Kaiji- he'd been taken away and experimented on, but no one had come to his rescue. He literally shook that thought from his head before continuing: "I don't know many people who'd do something like that for me, especially given the dark magic and such that goes on around here."

The smile was a nice touch, too, but Depth Charge got the feeling that the Scarecrow was the kind of guy who'd smile at a sharkticon if he thought it might help the situation any. Still, it was the thought that counted, and in this case in counted in spades. He nodded slowly, taking in the assessment as though he had some kind of medical degree in human biology, acting like he had any idea just what was going on in the man's head.

"Don't sweat it. I just did my job." Hah. He hadn't said that in a while. Hadn't had any reason to, he supposed, unable to fight the grim little smile that crossed his face at the thought. Funny. He'd been doing so much of the hunting that he'd forgotten how rewarding the protecting could feel. "Anyway, S.T. was the real help."

If S.T. hadn't been there, he knew where he'd have ended up. Charging into that hallway in a fit to burst, trying to break down every door in sight and attracting every monster in the entire building in the process. He owed a lot to the guy.

"Dark magic, huh?" The smile softened a little as he leaned forward onto his knees, head to one side. "Not sure if I believe in magic. But I get what you mean. I'm just... glad you're still functioning."

S.T. attributed the rescue efforts to Depth Charge, who turned right around and said most of the merit went to S.T. It was as though neither man wanted to take credit for a good deed. The Scarecrow couldn't help but grin- hopefully, he'd gotten his point across to both friends, even if they were determined to out-humble each other.

"Oh believe me," he said as he looked at the other man, "I'm glad I'm still functioning, too. I'm a little worse for wear, but the fact that my brain is working at all is something to be thankful for." True, his thinker still had some issues- especially with that clever little thing- but it wasn't a complete loss. And possibly broken or not, at least he had a brain! That had to be worth something. "Human bodies are fantastic, but I do worry sometimes that I'm going to ruin it."

He glanced at the door, thinking about what he was saying and the dangers of the Institute. "Will you be going out tonight?"

Forget smiling at a sharkticon. Depth Charge didn't think he'd seem anyone so purely optimistic in a long while. Whatever it was about him that kept him so upbeat, though, it was contagious- the smile on his own face was still there.

Then again, something in the back of his processor added, you thought that about Luffy, too, and that didn't protect him. You can't arm yourself with a good mood.

Riled, he brushed it away as quickly as possible before he could think about it too much. "Gonna have to disagree with you there," he answered, perhaps a little quickly. "I'd give anything to be back in a metal body again. This piece of junk'll have to do, though- I'm hitting the basement tonight. What about you?"

"I think I might just stay in here tonight," he answered honestly, his mind still on witches and wizards and the somethings that lurked in the halls. They were much more effective at scaring folks than he was, human body or not. Plus, with his brain in less-than-perfect condition, it was probably best to play it safe and not make any rash, body-ruining endeavors for a while.

It was one of those times he regretted his human condition: with a straw body, he was nearly indestructible, with his only foe being fire (and by association, those who could conjure it); however, humans and all their senses were much more fragile. That fragility made him aware of what he could and couldn't do, simultaneously leaving him unsure of what he should and shouldn't do.

"Maybe a night of rest will help it along," he said. "Or at least give me some time to put my thoughts together. I've got a lot more on my mind than I'd like at this point. Leaves me feeling like I was better off not havin' a brain at all, and I know that can't be right."

Depth Charge's shoulders- tensed though they were- slackened a little at the news, as though the strings holding them up had suddenly been snipped. Thank Primus for that. The last thing he wanted was the knowledge that the Scarecrow was going to be wandering around the Institute all night in that condition plaguing him all night. He'd have been a prime target for attack, easy pickings for any monster on the prowl. Hah- the Maximal might even have ended up being tempted away from his basement trip. Maybe.

"I'm glad you said it first," he said, sitting upright again and nodding approvingly. "You don't want to try and take this place on when your processor's overloaded. Leaves you open."

Speaking of processors, the human equivalent was a brain, right? The smile twitched again, part amused, part wistful. "And trust me. It's always better to have a brain, or a processor, or whatever, even for all the pain it gives you. It's keep it under control afterwards that's the problem." And did he ever know that. Spending time in your own personal slammer upstairs... now there was something he still couldn't quite shake. Even after all this time, he was still chasing himself.

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