Day 55: Courtyard [2nd Shift]

[sheepwood]

After what seemed like an eternity of being amused, irritable, bored, in pain, in excruciating pain, and any combination of those, Guybrush was met by the same soldier who had led him to the cafeteria. He wasn't offered a trip to the Sun Room to check the bulletin board, but didn't push for it anyway. That would have been more walking, and moving

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[tasteoftruth]

Badd mentally marked the way to the courtyard this time, to make sure he didn't get turned around again in the darkness. It was a dead end anyway, without ropes or something to stand on, but it was good to know the lay of the land. He should probably sketch up a map of the place at some point.

At least they had jackets this time. Badd was fairly certain that pleading his age and infirmity really wouldn't fly with these guys as well as it had yesterday. Especially when he obviously wasn't the worst-off guy in the courtyard, that blonde guy with the bandages looked like he'd been worked over with a few steel pipes, not to mention the matter of his missing hand. Badd hoped he was one of the rabblerousers from yesterday. If the man was a victim of his own idiocy then he didn't have to feel sorry for the mangled lunkhead.

Badd turned his face to the wall, taking a moment away from paranoia to gaze up at the ivy and the free sky above it. It'd work out. And if it didn't then he'd die and that was sort of all right too.

[Byrne, darling,

[corvus_veritas]

[Here baby, bringing you your favorite dish of trauma~.]

Cleaning, limping around, being treated like cattle and starving to death. What a wonderful day this was turning out to be, yes indeed. At least his escort finally allowed him to visit the bulletin board, if only under the threat of 'make it quick or else'. And so Byrne made his note quick and allowed himself to be led to the next shift without any protest. Hopefully Rei would see that

[tasteoftruth]

Badd ignored the gasp, the prisoners seemed to get upset over the stupidest things. But when his name was called out in a teasingly familiar voice Badd's head automatically flicked to the side...and his jaw dropped in horror. If he'd had his lollipop it would have tumbled dramatically from his lips to the grass below his feet

[corvus_veritas]

Byrne remained in his place, continuing to gape like an idiot at the sight of his friend. A part of him tried to deny that Badd was standing right there in front of him, tried to convince him that it was just coincidence and he was starting to lose it. But the man recognized Byrne and reacted accordingly, despite the fact that the way he reacted...didn't feel like Badd

[tasteoftruth]

He was a rational man. A man of evidence, legal or stolen, and of the cold truth. But the evidence facing him was completely impossible and that, more than ghosts or monsters, scared Badd down to his jaded core. The thing standing in front of him looked exactly like his partner, as if he'd been perfectly preserved moments before he died. It spoke with his voice and his tone, it had his face, but it could not be him"What the hell are you?" he whispered, his already weathered face beginning to go ashen and pale. One hand clenched, eager for a mirror or a gun that had been stripped from him weeks ago, any sort of little security blanket he could use to comfort him. Byrne was dead. Badd had held his body, had done the paperwork for his murder, had hunted his murderer down and testified at her trial and from that gained the smallest measure of peace. He didn't need this

[corvus_veritas]

What am I? He couldn't comprehend the question. What am I? How can you ask me that? It didn't make any sense. The more Badd reacted like this, the more terrified Byrne became. There was no doubt about it now, this was Tyrell Badd standing in front of him, even if the detective appeared to have aged rather quickly over the last two days. It was Badd. But he wasn't acting like himself at all. Was he delusional? What was wrong?

"It's me, Byrne. Don't you recognize me?" He took a few uncertain steps forward, reaching out a hand for his friend. Even though he'd asked the question, he felt like recognition wasn't the issue here. Badd knew it was him alright - at least, Byrne hoped he knew it was him. So why was he acting like Byrne was here to tear him from limb to limb? Could this behavior be the institute's doing? Badd, what have they done to you?

[tasteoftruth]

Badd shook his head again, harder this time, flinching away from the outstretched hand. No matter how hard he scrambled for a rational explanation he couldn't explain what he was seeing in front of him. They did exquisite things with plastic surgery these days but nobody could so perfectly reconstruct his beloved partner that even Badd couldn't find any flaw in his features.

"You can't be Byrne," he said slowly, sounding far too timid for such an imposing man. "Whatever you are, you're not him." He was not insane, this place had not gotten such a hold on him in three days that he'd gone to hallucinating Byrne as some kind of spirit guide or comfort. The more Badd dismissed possibilities the more he reached desperately for some logical reason he was seeing Byrne alive again and the more his panicked breathing increased.

[corvus_veritas]

And again, Byrne was perplexed and upset by his friend's denial, more so than before thanks to being told he couldn't be himself. Badd really was hallucinating, wasn't he? Or on drugs or not right in the head or, or something. If he kept this up maybe the soldiers would get suspicious with the way he was acting and come bother the two of them. ...On second thought, no. Those sick bastards wouldn't do anything because they knew better. They knew exactly why he was acting like this, didn't they? Oh, they knew, they had to know, because they had done something to Badd and Byrne was thoroughly convinced of that. He wasn't sure exactly what that 'something' was, but it was obviously enough to cause his partner to become uncharacteristically terrified at the sight of someone he otherwise would be comfortable with

[tasteoftruth]

Badd reflexively slapped the phantom's hand away and took two quick, shuffling steps to the side. His free hand made a clenching gesture at where he used to keep his gun and mirror. If he'd still had the gun he'd have pulled it, if he'd had the mirror he'd probably have tried to beat not-Byrne to not-death with it.

Oh god, he'd touched it. For a bare moment Badd had felt cold skin under his touch (corpse-cold, he thought, ignoring that the weather would chill anyone's skin). It wasn't just an optical illusion or a projection, like Little Thief's startlingly realistic holograms, it was an actual person real in front of him. The number of acceptable scientific explanations kept dwindling.

"You can't be him," Badd repeated emphatically, if only to convince himself. "Byrne's been dead for years." He would not fall to this. He would not let himself be tricked by a familiar face. He would not...as much as he wanted to find Byrne alive again as if the past seven years had been a feverish nightmare he could not let himself be swayed.

[corvus_veritas]

At first, Byrne jolted back at the physical rejection, eyes growing a little wider at how he'd been pushed away like that. So, uh. Maybe physical contact wasn't the best idea after all. In retrospect, he could've been walking away with a broken arm rather than a little slap to the wrist; god knows how much stronger Badd was compared to him, and he shouldn't have been so quick to test that. Then the detective spoke up, and after yet another round of 'blargh you don't exist', Byrne became slightly relieved to finally get an answer to that question of 'why was Badd acting like a loony'. The answer, however, was one he hadn't expected to hear.

"Dead?!" Byrne was almost laughing in disbelief. So he thought he was dead? And not just simply dead - dead for years! That's why he was acting like this? Out of all the things they could've done to his head, they just went and made him think Byrne was dead. And what was the purpose of that, really? To make the Yatagarasu members suffer while they were cooped up here? They were sure doing a

[tasteoftruth]

"Whatever kind of trick this is, I'm not falling for it. I went through too much for him to let you use his face to mess with me," Badd said through gritted teeth. He wouldn't dishonor Byrne's memory by denying reality.

It had him right down to the mannerisms, things that Badd had actually forgotten about over the span of seven years. It was achingly familiar, and all the more disturbing because of it. Plastic surgery was one thing but nobody could imitate the little details of a man's wording and gesture so perfectly that someone who'd known him nearly two decades couldn't find the hoax.

You're insane, whispered his mind, cutting to the point and making him bleed in the process. It's only logical. You've cracked under the strain. You're seeing ghosts. And you want to see ghosts, that's the worst part, you want this to be real. It's the only reason you're still talking to it.Badd's piercing eyes flicked to the patients chatting behind the phantom, to the stern and apathetic guards, and (against his will) down to the ground in the

[corvus_veritas]

... Sigh. Yep. Once again, this convincing thing? Not fun. Was not fun, was never going to be fun. Ever. If only Byrne had an instant 'believe me!' button...

"No Badd, I am real. Just work with me, okay?" Despite feeling a bit frustrated already, he kept a friendly smile on his face and made himself look as supporting and approachable as possible. "Now, obviously you're forgetting a lot of things, so calm down and try to remember what happened before you came here. It's September of 2011 - at least, I think it's still September, but even I know it's not this damn cold in September." He laughed. "I'm not so sure anymore thanks to whatever those assholes might've done when they kidnapped us. But anyway

[tasteoftruth]

You'd have to have known Badd for years to know his little tics, the way he exposed thoughts in the twitch of a eyebrow that on another person would have been said with the entire face and exaggerated body language. Byrne would be one of the few who might notice the way Badd's eyes flicked upward and sideways to the climbing ivy, and up the ivy to the top of the wall, without turning his head so much as a half-inch

[corvus_veritas]

Byrne was indeed one of the few people who knew Badd well, thanks to the pair's strong friendship and the number of years they'd known each other. It was why he was quick to notice the slight gesture, why he took his words seriously when he should've considered the detective's earlier outbursts and been suspicious. As he put two and two together, Byrne began to look like he'd literally faint any second - and for good reason, in his eyes.

He was not an idiot. He knew exactly what his friend was implying and he didn't like it one bit, not when it was possible Kay was in grave danger here or somewhere near here. She was 'gone' - where? She was 'safe' - how did he know that? And they 'never brought her back' - brought her back here? She was here? Anyone with a level head might've guessed Badd was simply spewing more crazed nonsense, but to Byrne, who cared about staying cool when it was possible your daughter's life was in jeopardy somewhere?!

"Y-you mean she was here?!" he gasped loudly as he took a few rapid steps forward, no longer

[tasteoftruth]

It was reflex, to answer Byrne's questions. It was what he always did and Badd found himself explaining his cryptic comment to the man that wasn't there. "I don't know why she was here, she was here three days before I was. But she's out of here now, they won't be able to--" Badd. You're telling it things. It's not Byrne. A hallucination can't feel grief.

Badd metaphorically bit his tongue and took another sideways step away. He pointed firmly at the phantom. "You are in my head," he said, as if accusing a suspect. "You're some drugged up hallucination and I don't have to pay attention to you. So...buzz off!" He waved it away, but didn't dare touch it for fear that he might find it solid again.

[corvus_veritas]

From all of this worrying, Byrne was close to curling up into fetal position and sobbing like a baby. He probably would have been doing that, anyway, if a particular statement of Badd's hadn't have grabbed his attention first. Three days. She'd been here three days ago, he said. It was a curious impossibility that made Byrne raise an eyebrow. ...Well, it was impossible if Byrne kept assuming today was September 12, 2011. However, if he'd been out cold for several days after being kidnapped, who was he to know what date it was now?

It didn't help that Badd was clearly off his rocker and everything he'd been saying otherwise was utter nonsense. Just look at him acting unnaturally, being terrified of everything and...great, and now blowing his best friend off as an illusion. Again. Thanks Badd, you're such a pal.

"Hold it!" Byrne snapped, "We're not done yet!" Just for added emphasis, he whipped out the ol' trusty pointer finger and directed it at the detective's face the moment he cried hold it! That should certainly get his attention