It figured that night would end before Rita and Taura could progress any further. Rita wasn't particularly disappointed to wake up abruptly, as they had reached a dead end. Really, the institute was doing them a favor by bringing them back to the starting point, where they could regroup.
What she didn't appreciate was the loss of valuable time,
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Well. Weren't even trying to convince the patients, that was. An outsider might not have seen anything wrong with that little introduction, but a brief check of his database revealed that it had been spoken word-for-word by Landel precisely a week before: they'd simply replayed it and cut the outdated references to the weather ( ... )
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The answer and the snort that came with it was more than dismissive- she clearly wasn't impressed, and at any rate she didn't seem to have given it all that much thought. Mildly disappointing, but there were plenty of other things to discuss. Or was that just to be expected from someone her age? ... no, that was too general a statement. Sakura had been suitably insightful, after all.
He took a moment to actually look at the girl properly: small and young-looking, probably no older than sixteen, with brown hair and blue-green eyes. She hadn't attempted to make eye contact with him, but after the way she'd answered so decisively Lunge wasn't convinced that it was out of shyness. The way she'd gone straight on writing without bothering to ask for a name or stop for manners' sake seemed to indicate that she was simply the type who didn't have time or inclination for niceties.
Which suited Lunge just fine, particularly since she'd picked up on the announcement. Maybe she had thought about it and just wasn't interested in sharing ( ... )
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Good enough for pajamas, but not anything else. But maybe that was just him being picky because he wanted his own clothes back. Even if they had been dirty and worn from the number of times he had tripped or skid on crystals and dirt. He wanted his gloves back, and his scarf. It felt weird to go without them, and even the outfit yesterday had covered his neck, even if they had skimped on the gloves in the snow ( ... )
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And... No. Being deposited in a large room with numerous others was nothing close to gaining answers. Mikado stood there for a moment, dumbstruck, as the man who had escorted him just left. The attempt to follow him out the door was stopped by another man, who shooed the boy towards the center of the room. Uh. He. Had no idea what was going on now. A holding area? If it was a holding area, what was it for? And why were everyone dressed the same? It was as if--
He looked down belatedly. "Ahh!" He pulled the shirt out from his chest, staring at it. Okay, he was dressed the same. Obviously, this meant something that he couldn't discern. The men who escorted him and stopped him were dressed differently, and weren't... All that willing to answer questions. He'd do better focusing on someone dressed like himself, maybe?
What was going on?Nearby there was a boy that looked around Mikado's age, maybe a little younger. Mikado approached hesitantly, stopping a few feet away. "Ah... Hello," he greeted, smiling nervously, the ( ... )
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He hadn't expected to see someone else closer to his age, though, despite all the things he had prepared himself for mentally (and it was a lot of strange things in his head, from a sudden Behemoth attack to fairies of all things. Because with his luck lately (and it was bad), it could happen).
"Ahh-- hello?" He responded tentatively, hands going to grip at the hem of his shirt, unused to not being able to just tug on his gloves when he was nervous. Another patient? It looked like it, from the way they were both dressed, if patient was even the right word. But people had said hospital, even if it wasn't like anything he had ever seen before. Not to mention the staff here were crazy, always trying to call him by a different name ( ... )
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Mikado moved to the chair across from the other boy, and dropped into it, eyes looking around the room nervously. No. None here were familiar. How would he ever get an explanation at this rate? Mikado glanced back at the other, moving a hand in concern. "Oh, no, that's okay. I guess we're in the same situation then."
A frown. A situation that was offering no information on itself. Shouldn't the people in charge at least be letting them know what was going on? "I'm Ryuugamine Mikado." Maybe an introduction would help the other boy relax a little. If anything, he looked more upset than Mikado felt. And that... Was impressive.
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The intercom was a surprise, for half a sentence; then a wave of static cut rain into snow and made the deception obvious. My, my, was Aguilar already having trouble? What had he said, at the end of night?
Spanish. He'd been speaking Spanish, with an accent most Los Angelenos heard every day. It was the first time she'd heard a foreign language in the Institute since the night Agatha had been brainwashed, though language had taken a back seat to fencing foils from both sides. She hadn't seen the girl lately; pity, since Ema could use more friends her own age.
Not that she'd be easy to pry from one Prosecutor Edgeworth, who was managing to look dignified in what amounted to pajamas the same color as his hair ( ... )
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"I didn't think attempting to make it down there myself would be a good idea. It didn't really seem like the sort of place for a poorly-armed legal team, even if we'd known how to get down there." She wasn't sure if he'd answer the implicit question, but she was curious. Her first statement was true; most of what she'd gotten from bulletin posts and radio clues was that it was dangerous. She'd be a liability, and Ema would be helpless, and that wasn't a situation she cared to invite.
"Did anything else happen?" She'd had one theory, and she knew how disastrous clinging to an idea could be when its time had passed, but she would give it a thorough check first.
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Woah wait. Wait a second. Waaaait a second. Why was he wearing the smiley face t-shirt again? Where was his army uniform? Wh--huh? Over the intercom--was that--was that Landel's voice? He was in charge again?! What the hell was going on?! Again! He was saying that every day now! Was every damn day in this place an attempt to make him go mad from all the unexpected changes? Oh sure Landel, Aguilar, whoever the hell you are, I'll make it easy for you, just let me apply my head to the wall several hundred thousand times until it splits open like a goddamn watermelon! I'm sure that's what you want, isn't it?! You sons of--...Before he could finish his inner tirade, ( ... )
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...And suddenly, the headache seemed so trivial compared to what he was looking at.
True, he couldn't see all of the bandages, but it was clear enough just by looking at her that Renamon was in a hell of a lot more pain than he was. Byrne sat up quickly, face full of concern and surprise, and mumbled under his breath, "Holy sh..." His subconscious parental censors prevented him from completing the sentence out loud. A habit that could only be obtained from being a parent. Why should he even bother now? Today was not a day for censorship, damnit. "Renamon? What happened to you? Are you alright?"
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Luckily, at least, this explanation was relatively straight-forward. "Two cats. I'll be fine. One just opened my stomach a bit." And shredded the skin on her back. Those two had definitely moved differently than the other she had encountered. The nonchalance in which she spoke did not mirror her mental state on it. In reality, she'd prefer to not consider the event. "Please don't concern yourself with me," she added, bowing her head. "This isn't the worst that's happened by far."
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The night before had been more than a little emotionally and physically taxing than Edgeworth had hoped for, but all things considered, he had to admit that an altercation with a human was by far an easier thing to cope with rather than some supernatural creature...but stranger yet was the realization that, as he turned over to look up at the sterile lighting of the room, he couldn't remember actually going to sleep. That same sense of airy confusion and displacement overcame him - same as his first day, though this time dampened by his slight knowledge of what was going on - and the prosecutor did the best he could to stifle it. It was another day - he had to be prepared for anything, and he didn't have time to obsess over the small details just yet ( ... )
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The teen sat up, scratching the back of his head, and squinted at the man seated across from him. "Who...what's--oh, you." Oh, you. The guy that Phoenix had brought along yesterday. What was his name? "'Edgeworth', right?" He'd asked him a question too - what was it again? Something about interrupting...
...whatever. "Sorry, I'm a real mess right now--not like ya could blame me, right? Heh. Anyway, what's up?" He too hadn't reached any sort of conclusion about the man he'd suddenly found himself working with last night, no thanks to circumstances, but it had seemed like Edgeworth was more level-headed than his friend - and if he wasn't, he faked it really well.
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"You certainly did have a lot on your plate last night, though it seems like what you're missing is rest and not a trip to the infirmary," he commented, crossing his legs as he let his hands sit idly in his lap. "I suppose I was wondering how you were holding up after all was said and done."
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