Day 55: Intercom, Evening

[damned_intercom]

Snow doubled in number as the day transitioned into the evening hours. Unfortunately, none of the patients were allowed the time to enjoy the weather changes. They were instead greeted by the telltale jingle of the intercom, signaling their cue to return indoors

Comments

M50

[unheroed]

It was truly amazing that Harvey had actually been left alone during that final shift, and that fact on its own was enough to bolster his mood. Being ordered around by people who thought they were somehow better because they carried machine guns and reported to a man who was a general was a thorn in his side, but forgetting that, the day hadn't been so terrible.

What really was keeping him going, however, was the fact that they might have a chance of conquering the other half of the basement tonight. It had been a long time coming after all this effort. He was concerned that there might be too many of them this time around, but he could always suggest that they split up. The ring was bound to give them a good chance, at the least. He was sure that Jones would be likely to back him up on that idea as well.

But right, he did need to eat at some point, didn't he? That was the first thing he had to acknowledge as he entered M50 and saw the plate of gruel waiting for him. Lunge wasn't getting served anything better by the looks of it, so that was one small consolation.

It had been some time since he'd tried to eat with actual utensils, though not having to get his food through a straw would at least make him feel a bit more human. If he could manage it, anyway. That was the main concern.

Harvey sat down at his desk and let out a sigh, taking a spoonful of the food and holding it before his mouth. He stared it down, wondering if it would taste better or worse than the shakes he'd been living off of. Maybe it would be about the same.

Finally, he deposited the stuff into his mouth and waited for it to hit his tongue.

Re: M50

[herr_inspektor]

As he was returned to his room, Lunge tried not to let it bother him that his initial assessment of Lana had been so suddenly derailed by a single bad joke. It wasn't as though a sense of humour was incompatible with the profile he'd built, or as though he'd overlooked a major source of motivation, or something vital- but it still introduced that uncomfortable little sense of uncertainty he'd done so well to avoid for all of this time.

Doubt. The last thing he needed here, and yet the first thing he'd found himself grappling with. At the best of times Lunge had disliked to examine himself and his methods- it had seemed needless then, a distraction from the real threat that was whatever case he was working on. Why should he question himself, he'd reasoned, when he had yet to question a suspect? And there was no interim. With the end of one case came the beginning of another, sometimes overlapping, and how could he possibly prioritise idle philosophising when he hadn't slept at all that week?

Yet here he was, walking through the Institute's corridors with a soldier at his side, grappling with that nasty little virus of a word as it wormed its way into his mind. It would not be prudent to entertain it, to second guess himself, that he knew- but each time he told himself that he simply had to remind himself of a single word to know that wasn't good enough. Tenma. Perhaps if he hadn't made that mistake then-

No. That wasn't helpful.

There could be no room for error this time. Lunge pushed open the door and took a seat, ignoring the pink gruel sitting at his desk in favour of arranging his thoughts. He would be seeing L tonight, for whatever reason- he was sure that he'd have told him in advance if they were going somewhere, but preparation never hurt. He still, however, spared a moment to nod to Dent. "Good evening. It's good to see you in one piece." He wasn't, he realised, lying.

[unheroed]

The consistency of the gruel was different from what he'd been drinking this whole time. A bit thicker, but still no problem to work to the back of his mouth and swallow without any chewing required. That was what he really needed in the end, and the fact that he could now use a utensil somehow made a world of difference. It meant he wasn't a complete invalid.

The taste, on the other hand, was also different, but not in any way worse. It had the same feeling of being something that got him what he needed in terms of nutrients but made no effort in appearance or flavor to be more than that. It was bland and maybe a little bit unappetizing, but he wasn't going to be gagging on it. It would do.

He had gotten two spoonfuls down when Lunge entered the room, and the man didn't seem very interested in eating the food, at least not for now. Harvey glanced over as he pulled up another spoon of the stuff, realizing full-well that he needed to eat all of it. He and S.T. had discussed how tonight would probably require a test of physical prowess, so he needed all the energy he could get.

The comment from Lunge didn't seem facetious, and so Harvey decided to accept it with a nod. "Same to you. Looks like us old-timers still have a chance of making it even with this new regime in place." Harvey hadn't been treated very well, but he also hadn't been abused or anything along those lines. It meant he could still manage in this new environment, not that he was one to fall down so easily in the first place. Still, he realized that he was no match for a trained soldier.

[herr_inspektor]

Even if Lunge didn't particularly feel like eating, it looked as though Dent was willing to brave the non-taste for whatever reason. A busy night? It seemed likely. He'd eaten at lunch himself, so he didn't feel particularly pressed to do so again. In truth, he was still thinking about the tainted food from the night before. It was highly unlikely that tonight's meal would be poisoned- it had been as punishment before and they had nothing to be punished for this time, and everything pointed to Aguilar being the sort to follow procedure rather than petty sadism- but the reminder had rather killed his appetite.

"It seems that way," he agreed, giving a faint smile. True, he was past retiring age, but in his home world he didn't suppose either of them would usually have qualified for 'old-timer' status; here, they were both probably among the top fifteen eldest patients. At least, in terms of appearance. How, for example, did a robot age? Or a witch?

Aside from that, though, Dent had a good point: namely, that life in the Institute hadn't, qualitatively, gotten that much better or worse. They were technical details, military footnotes that would perhaps have more effect in the long-run than the short. "One has to wonder how many of these changes are purely aesthetic," he suggested, "and how many are designed to move us towards some purpose. He doesn't seem interested in killing or maiming us in the same way that Landel was. Yet."

[unheroed]

Lunge had it about right. Things had changed, but they hadn't at the same time. They were being punished like they were soldiers and wearing the uniforms to match, but they were still being called the wrong name. They were no longer treated like they didn't know who they were, though, which was what stood out. Why even bother with the name, if that was the case? Maybe it was one lingering part of Landel's rule that they hadn't been willing to let go for some reason, even though it didn't quite fit in with the new pattern.

It was the last part of his roommate's statement that didn't quite fit, though. "I don't know about that," Harvey said with a shake of his head. "I got attacked last night, and that was with these guys in charge." The monsters hadn't been all that fearsome, he had to admit, but that didn't change the fact that it had happened. And he was sure that sphinx would have ripped them to shreds if they'd given it the chance.

"I just think they aren't sugarcoating it anymore." They wanted them to fight. He wasn't sure how someone like him had seemed qualified for such a thing, not to mention all the kids here. But that was clearly what the general was aiming for. It didn't seem all that likely to work, if he was going to be honest.

[herr_inspektor]

That’s not quite… well. Yes, in a sense,” he answered, brow furrowing a touch. “Under both Aguilar and Landel we are still clearly in mortal peril. Patients will still be attacked and killed if they don’t take the proper precautions. But I can’t help but feel that Landel had a more obvious sadistic streak- one that leaked into his attacks, his words. As much as he came to claim that this was for a ‘greater good’- which, by the way, I don’t doubt that he believed for a second’- I still think a great deal of his work gave him a degree of pleasure, either in the control or in the act.

“If the same goes for Aguilar, though, he isn’t making it obvious. So far, his actions speak more of impartiality and practicality. That isn’t, of course, to suggest that he isn’t also a sadist or a megalomaniac, but simply that he isn’t so overt with it. Business over pleasure, or perhaps pleasure in the business.” Lunge stopped, thinking that one over. They’d only heard the man once and already he was attempting to plot out the man’s personality, a line on a graph with only a couple of points to run through. Dangerous territory indeed, when preconceptions had nearly killed him before.

With a sigh of frustration (or maybe it was regret?) he relented. “Then again, I could easily be wrong. I shouldn’t be making any judgements yet.” Shouldn’t, but still would.

[unheroed]

Maybe Lunge had a point. It was true that all they had was a matter of two days and one announcement to judge on, but there hadn't been any gloating or theatrics thus far. Everything had been efficient, controlled, and carefully planned. Granted, Harvey didn't believe that Landel had just stumbled through what he'd done to them by any means. Still, he'd certainly taken more liberties with his so-called leadership. He doubted that Aguilar would change his persona based on night and day, for instance.

"I would agree with all that," he said after a pause, taking another spoonful of the gruel and forcing it down his throat. He could get used to this, possibly because he'd already been weaned onto tasteless food full of nutrients and supplements and little else. "If he is enjoying all this, he's laughing to himself over it in private, or among his men." Probably only the most trusted, at that. It was true that Landel hadn't revealed many important personal facts about himself, but he'd given hints through his behavior. He doubted Aguilar would even take that many liberties.

However, at that point his foot hit against something hard and metal under the desk, and that was enough to make him curious. He ducked his head down enough to see and realized that there was a plain box sitting there, waiting to be opened. Frowning, he scooted his chair back and then pulled the box out, preparing to see what was inside. "Do you have one of these too?" he asked the other man. He didn't think these were a threat, but he was wary nonetheless.