Day 55: Cafeteria

[mustbethesuit]

Comments

[herr_inspektor]

Tainted food? Lunge leaned forward, an flash of interest in his eyes. Now there was a clever way of administering a punishment; most people would be eating before they left for the night, as a way of keeping their strength up for whatever challenges awaited them out in the hallways. It explained why he hadn't felt anything strange himself. And since Landel had only ever started his experiments at night, well, who would think that the daytime could hold such dangers? Wasn't the day a time for rest and recovery?

Silently, he made a note of the fact that they were no longer safe during the day; this was further proof of just how thoroughly Aguilar had abandoned the disguise.

The effect of the food, however, was slightly harder to understand, and his brow furrowed. "Knowledge of the special counseling patients?" That didn't seem to mesh quite with the new military Institute- it seemed more like the kind of experiment Landel might have run, a trick to get people to second-guess themselves or confuse them. And why would the Institute want to give the patients an advantage, if not to trick them?

Hmm. Maybe it was an experiment. "Let me see if I understand you correctly," he started again, shaking his head slightly. "After eating dinner, you report having suddenly gained this knowledge, all of a sudden? How strange." He paused. There was something else, too. "It could have been a hallucinogen, but... 'magic'?"

[girlsandgadgets]

There were a few reasons Edgar didn't mention magic very often in conversations. For one, he wasn't as familiar with it as he should have been, neither in study nor in practice. For most of his life, he'd thought of the War of the Magi as not much more than a myth: beings who could conjure the elements and use them as weapons with which to destroy entire armies? It all seemed absurd, impossible- not like technology. He hadn't put much thought into it, even when he heard the rumors of the Imperial witch. Even then, he had little faith in what he'd heard... until he saw it for himself.

In an elegant machine, everything had a purpose, had some function as part of the whole that made it work. Magic was harder to explain. The variety of worlds represented at Landel's made it all the more difficult to talk about: just as there were some from worlds where magic (or some equivalent skill) was more common than in his own, there were bound to be those from places where it had never existed at all. Rather than delve into a discussion on a topic about which he had only limited knowledge, he'd just avoided the mention entirely.

Well, until now. Aside from one spell, there was nothing Edgar knew that even came close to explaining his experience. "Yes, magic. It's a rare skill where I'm from, but there is a spell that grants you information about a target- weakness, statistics, and the like; however, it isn't what I felt last night. This was specifically the locations of the brainwashed patients: one in the courtyard, one in the Sun Room, one at the western end of the main hall upstairs, and one where we load the transport to head to town. The gain of knowledge was sudden, but it didn't happen immediately after dinner. If it was an effect from Project 2911, then it must have taken time to work through me. Like a slow poison."

His hand paused as he fixed his eyes on the floor, his expression grim. This place had a way of pushing his buttons.

[herr_inspektor]

Lunge had heard a little about magic in his time here, first from the ninja woman in the upstairs kitchen, and more recently had experienced it all too closely for his liking; Howell's hallway monster and the woman in the Sun Room might have been able to produce creations he could go on assuming were purely illusory (a trick of the light, a trick of the mind, it isn't real), but the other night he'd felt it in full force. It had been, unfortunately, impossible to deny the existence of the hundreds of blades that had rained down on L, Marc and himself, impossible to believe that the nick he'd gotten as one barely skimmed his shoulder was all in his head.

Perhaps he resented it purely on the grounds of concept. As a seemingly limitless force it 'explained away' far too much of the Institute for his liking; it was the logical equivalent of papering over the cracks instead of searching for deeper reasons. It encouraged lazy thinking.

Even so, he couldn't help but feel a tug of interest at the mention of an information-granting spell; now there was one use he could certainly have appreciated. Learning his enemy's weaknesses at a glance was, as much as his colleagues liked to suppose, entirely beyond his abilities; being able to do so would have done so much for his investigation...

But his thoughts were digressing. Edgar seemed sure that this wasn't to do with that spell, which meant leaving it behind for the mean time. Lunge nodded. "That makes sense, taking into account the means of administration." Another pause. The man's body language had unmistakeably closed: head down, eyes to the floor, not even cleaning as a decoy. Even his language had ebbed into the painful, poison as a simile. For someone so outgoing-- well, it must have been unbearable, to know that the Institute could so easily work its way into his mind.

"It's a cruel tactic: suddenly giving an advantage, without explanation. Like a Trojan horse," he said quietly. Would Edgar know what a Trojan horse was? It didn't matter. "Designed to make any man doubt himself and his enemy. Intimidation tactics. Do you know if the information they planted was correct?"

[girlsandgadgets]

Lunge brought up a point Edgar had told himself more than once: the institute was full of tricks designed to make the patients doubt everything they knew, to push them closer to losing themselves to the identity they'd been assigned. But why? What purpose did it serve to rob someone in such a way? What was there to Landel, Aguilar, or anyone else to gain? Edgar found neither prospect- of being a mere shell of himself or being killed- acceptable in any way. As much as he liked to think others would do the same, he couldn't deny the thinning numbers. Patients disappeared daily, their spots filled with new arrivals. How many more would there be?

"I never got the chance to find out," he replied. While it would have satisfied his curiosity even more to see if his unfounded hunch was accurate, he felt that it was a safe bet, given what Ryuuzaki had been able to glean without any logical explanation aside from the reportedly tainted food. He decided to leave that unmentioned for now. Ryuuzaki seemed like a private person, and some of the information he'd discovered through his new-found insight had been of the sensitive variety. The inspector might push if any more was mentioned.

Edgar instead changed tactics, resuming his scrubbing. "I'm aware that this place is designed with deceit in mind, though I didn't know just how far it went until last night. Have you ever been to the room where they keep patient possessions?"