A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Day 58: Intercom, Evening
New Intercom
damned_intercom wrote in damned
The dinner announcement came as something utterly unexpected. Rather than Harrington's excited tones, the calm accented voice of the General drifted through the intercom speakers.

"Code 1-8. I repeat: Code 1-8. All personnel are to report to your stations. No exceptions."

The intercom clicked off, leaving no explanation behind. The staff appeared to take the words to heart, however, as evident by their thin-lipped faces and snappy tones to the slower patients. They were in an obvious hurry to get everyone back to their rooms.

For what cause, they refused to divulged.

[ Those participating in the forced drug trials, please ensure to read this lounge post before posting to dinner. Thanks! ]

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By dinner time, Gren was feeling worse for the wear. The ominous announcement in lieu of the usual dinner greeting didn't do a thing to improve things, either. He didn't know what 'Code 1-8' was, but it left him with a distinct feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Nothing good ever came of announcements like that.

So it was with a great deal of nervousness that he settled into his room with dinner, staring down at the bowl and trying to work up the energy to eat it. He needed to, and he knew it, but it was hard to want anything with the first creeping symptoms of withdrawal clawing at him. The beginnings of that itch was under his skin, and it was only going to get worse from here on in, as long as he stayed weak and played by their games. The shaking and the nausea were like old, unwelcome friends by now. He hadn't worked up the nerve yet to try and resist the medication in the mornings, didn't have the will to stand up for himself in that particular battle of wills.

Making a face, he forced himself to eat the first spoonful of his dinner, hoping he wouldn't end up regretting it later.

There were the beginnings of a monstrous headache forming by the time Edgar reached his room for dinner. While some discoveries of the day had been good— notably Carter's line of work, which could come in handy somewhere down the line— most had made the last twenty-four hours far more complicated than he'd ever expected, and that was before he included the military's part in all of it. Locke's reappearance, then Terra's arrival, coupled with her amnesia that was either caused by the institute or a consequence of her being brought from a period before she knew him... There was a lot of consider.

And then, there was this Code 1-8. Whatever it is, it couldn't be good. Would it be another Project 2911? The timing was a strange coincidence- anytime he made plans to spend the night with Ryuuzaki, it seemed another operation was carried out by the military. Perhaps the man was just bad luck.

Edgar rubbed his temple as the door closed behind him, abandoning the tray on the desk for a moment. Gren was already there, attempting to make the most of a poor meal. It wasn't hard to see he still wasn't taking the changes well- and given his experience, Edgar couldn't blame him. As for his own meal, he wasn't sure he was willing to try it just yet, especially if there was a new project and the chance they'd tainted the food.

He looked to the box on his bed, thinking of the items within- if the military hadn't confiscated Anise's gift, then perhaps he could make the day marginally better for his roommate while sparing himself the gruel. Surely enough, the bag of treats was still inside the box, tucked into the corner beneath the doctor's coat.

"You're welcome to one of these, if you'd like," Edgar said, removing two of the granola bars from the bag and offering one to Gren. "It's not much of a replacement for a meal, but it can't be any worse than gruel."

Gren glanced up when the door opened, glad to see it was just Edgar and not someone from the military barging in again or something equally terrible. It was good to see his roommate was in one piece... he'd fallen asleep the previous night before he'd even had a chance to see him.

He was turning back to his food, trying to decide if it was really worth eating any more of it when the blond's offer made him look over again to see what was being offered. He gave him what was probably something of a surprised look before he managed a smile. "I appreciate it. Thanks," he replied, and took the offering.

It was only a granola bar, but it was hard to hide how appreciative he was. Despite everything, there was still someone who was willing to show a little kindness in this place. That he was so surprised by that fact was a little alarming--just how cynical was he allowing himself to get?

"No problem at all," Edgar replied, tearing into the packaging of his own bar. The smile of gratitude he'd received in return was well worth the price. He only hoped the offering might bring up Gren's spirits a little. He couldn't afford to lose another trusted ally- there had been enough unpleasant surprises in the ever-changing patient population already.

He took a seat on the bed, the box shifting as his weight made the surface uneven. "An acquaintance of mine left a gift for me in her room last night with a few of these inside. She thought they'd help improve my mood and health, but you look like you could use it more than me."

That said, Edgar took a bite of the bar in his hand. Not the greatest food in the world, but it was a far improvement over the gruel, and the sentimentality behind it made it even sweeter.

He pulled apart the wrapper and broke off a piece of the granola bar, popping it in his mouth. It had only been a few days, really, but it was so nice to have something to eat that actually tasted like something. He'd missed his one chance at real food since this whole military fiasco had begun, too ill to take advantage of the meals in town over the weekend.

"I wish I had something to offer," he replied. He liked to return favors, as much as was possible, anyway. And he felt bad that he apparently looked worn out enough to warrant that kind of concern from Edgar.

"You still being here is enough," Edgar replied after another bite. "It's hard to keep allies as it is."

And then there were those who returned, which made for unexpected complications. He held only light apprehension for Locke: if what the treasure hunter said was true, he'd experienced the end of Kefka. Surely almost anything he faced in the institute, even without a weapon, wouldn't throw him into a panic, for he'd undoubtedly seen worse. While he'd disappeared once, the circumstances were different now.

Terra was another story. Edgar sighed- perhaps he should have suggested she accompany him during the night, especially given her status as relatively new and her amnesia. He could have kicked himself for not insisting on it; however, without a room number, there really wasn't a way to find her, no matter how concerned he was that she'd wander alone. She was capable of handling herself, but if she actually knew of her own potential was yet to be seen.

If she truly was from an earlier time, she probably severely underestimated herself. Another sigh; the situation got better all the time. There was no changing it now. He rubbed at his temple again- while the mild throbbing in his head was an annoyance, it was an improvement over the constant sweating and general fatigue from the day before.

"And what are your plans for the night?" Edgar asked finally. "I'm to meet an acquaintance this evening. Hopefully, there won't be any unpleasant surprises from this Code 1-8, but I'm not optimistic about that."

"Yeah, it is." He smiled a little to cover the wince at remembering Edgar was really the only person left here he could rely on. "I thought I ran into someone from home the other night, but she was gone again by morning. Sometimes I think this place does it just to get to us."

He almost liked the idea that it was being done maliciously more than the probable truth that it was all just a terrible coincidence.

He took another bite of the granola bar as he contemplated an answer. "I don't really have any. There are supposedly patient records upstairs I never managed to get to. I think I might try again." It was as much of a goal as anything was, these days. "I doubt we'll be that lucky," he added with a shake of his head. "Unless they're making announcements these days just to rattle us."

"Which I wouldn't doubt for even a moment," Edgar said darkly, his tone low. The rough quality of his throat caused his voice to sound even grimmer than he'd anticipated, but it still adequately reflected his thoughts on the matter.

It was the second time he'd heard mention of the patient records that day- since Terra had put them on his mind, Edgar had considered checking them out himself eventually. He filed away a mental note to ask Gren the following night about them, if his roommate actually made it there.

Thinking of the files did bring up the previous topic, though: so Gren had not been the only one from his home to arrive at Landel's, either. Perhaps it was just an unlucky coincidence, not some planned phenomenon, for the two of them to have allies appear and disappear so quickly. Their fortune hadn't been all that great, judging by the simultaneous sleep studies. He could only hope their luck would improve; if not, they'd just have to make their own.

"I've also had some arrivals from home in the last day," Edgar said, finishing the bar and setting the wrapper aside. "Two, to be exact: one who was here a few days ago, only to disappear; the other is completely new, from what I can tell."

That was putting her condition lightly.

"I guess we'll have to hope it's that, and not something set loose to eat us," he replied, managing a quiet laugh. It was gallows humor, but that was about the best he could muster at the moment. It was the only way he was going to cope with any of this.

"Really? That's good to hear." He supposed he could be jealous of Edgar's good fortune, but was it really good fortune to have one's friends dragged to a place like this? When he thought about it that way, he was almost glad that Faye had vanished after a single night. She deserved better than a place like this.

Assuming, of course, she'd even been here at all. He still wasn't entirely sure on that count. "Maybe they'll stick around." It was good to have someone to rely on, he supposed, even if it meant they were stuck here as well.

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