Day 57: Patient Library (Fourth Shift)

[razing_phoenix]

That movie had been far more depressing than Guy had been ready for. It might not have been as bad if it hadn't all been based on real events, but knowing that people had tried so hard to escape only for so many to die was rather sobering

Comments

[spandexorgtfo]

Talking with Rita had raised only more questions, and Kratos' mind was still totally focused on what they had been discussing as he walked back inside the Institute, where his nurse handed him a letter with just one curt word to accompany it: "Mail." He'd accepted the envelope dazedly and was about to just skim through the contents when he unfolded the paper and noticed the name at the bottom.

Lise.

So, she had come again, but not in person this week. In any case, it was time for a change in plans. Rather than move onto another mindless, time-occupying activity, Kratos immediately folded the letter back up and retreated into the library, the quietest place he knew, in order to read it. It was only when he was firmly seated in one of the chairs that he allowed himself to open the letter again and read the contentsShe sounded worried. Stressed. Sad. A variety of emotions that Kratos would never wish upon her. He read through the letter again, scrutinizing every word and lingering on the strange cluster of splotches near the bottom

[sheepwood]

[So sorry this is late!]Bored with his routine of wandering around the Sun Room, looking at the bulletin board, starting idly at the movie they were showing, wondering where Morgan was hiding, sitting on the floor, getting off the floor, and thinking too much into what the military had done with all the kittens, Guybrush finally meandered into the library, deciding that maybe a good book would get his mind off the monotony of the day. It really shouldn't have been so monotonous: he'd made nice with two people- one who probably disliked him, and the other who only disliked him when she was out of her mind- so he couldn't say he hadn't been productive, at least

[spandexorgtfo]

[np! ♥]

Kratos had been in the process of re-reading his letter for perhaps the third or fourth time (this time particularly lingering over the blacked-out text- what names and times were so important that they required censoring?) when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed another man attempting to read over his shoulder. Any other person might have remained blissfully unaware, but he had always been sensitive about possible intrusions into his privacy, almost to the point of paranoia, and had therefore trained himself to always be on edge, even when he had every right to relax.

If he had just been reading one of the books available in the library, Kratos might have simply sighed and attempted to ignore it, but this was different; this letter was personal. It was completely off-limits, especially to complete strangers who had no business knowing his business

[sheepwood]

Whoops, caught. Guybrush stiffened in surprise for half a second, then donned a mildly apologetic smile. He'd never been so good at subtlety.

Though he hadn't been able to see much, a few things were clear from the eyeful he got. Lots of censored parts, only certain people getting them- they were either invitations to a secret club or a less personal form of the same torture the institute provided with visiting hour. If the latter was the case, Guybrush reasoned he ought to keep a lookout for a bill coming to him from Schafer, Purcell and Gilbert - Attorneys at Law. If it was the former, he wasn't sure he wanted to be invited anyway. Personal time with General Aguilar (or anyone else who had no qualms with torturing hostages) didn't rank high on his list of enjoyable activities

[spandexorgtfo]

Kratos continued to stare at the other man for a few more seconds, as if he didn't fully believe his reasons for snooping around into other patients' private affairs. Finally, he unfolded the letter and glanced down at it.

"I suppose an apt description of it would be the poor man's visitor," he said as he scanned the contents again. "You're spared the physical presence, but that's about the only consolation." In some ways, receiving a letter was actually worse: for all he knew, this had been forged, and something had happened to the woman who claimed she was his wife. Hurt again on his account: that would be unacceptable.

He shook his head. "It's really nothing to get excited over. The Institute has gone through the trouble of conveniently obscuring any part of the letter that would actually be useful."

[sheepwood]

"Guess I shouldn't have expected otherwise," Guybrush said, rolling his eyes. Even if there was a way to send an S.O.S. to someone outside of the institute, there was no way of telling them exactly where they were or how to help them if the soldiers filtered out all the useful parts. It made sense, but was still annoying. Knowing how these things went, the chances were that any letter that made it past the front doors would either be censored beyond recognition, or serve to make the patients look even crazier. It was a losing battle either way

[spandexorgtfo]

"Oh dear, they must have all been truly heinous crimes if all those people were willing to commit such a list to memory," Kratos said wryly as the corner of his mouth twisted upward. He knew nothing about this stranger, but a person still had to provide a reason to be associated so readily with crime. He himself was supposedly guilty of murdering or harming someone - the details were not particularly important - but it had come as no surprise since he had always had far too much blood on his hands. "Unless this is all a massive misjudgment of character

[sheepwood]

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Guybrush had to admit that the guy had a point: even some of his own adventures- before the embellishments he added for dramatic effect- sounded too unbelievable to be true when actually put to paper. He'd been called crazy on more than one occasion by a drunken scallywag or two, but that was usually because of his questionable methods for accomplishing a near-impossible task rather than the near-impossible task itself. When you lived in the Caribbean during a time of voodoo, dread pirates, giant man-eating manatees, and courtroom souvenir emporiums, you started to believe just about anything that was handed to you, even if it was demonic rats and teleporting doors

[spandexorgtfo]

"Better that than a murderer, I suppose," Kratos said in a deadpan. "Of course, neither are desirable stigmas

[sheepwood]

"I'm not exactly used to hiding my swashbuckling status," Guybrush admitted with an crooked smile. Sure, it came in handy on occasion to pretend he was someone's long-lost nephew or that some of his alleged crimes had been complete misunderstandings, but most of the time, he introduced himself with his full title. On the Caribbean, it was a sign he was an adventurer, a rogue, a man with the sea in his heart who could sail into the sunset and never be seen again, save for on wanted posters and in the back cover of any of his books at the Phatt City Library

[spandexorgtfo]

"Mm." A 'Mighty Pirate' sounded like the sort of man that he would be hired to bring in, alive or dead. That would be conveniently ignored, though: Guybrush was right in that they had a common enemy far more important than individual biases. Besides, they were likely from different worlds, which made passing judgment entirely not worth it.

On the other hand, a Guybrush Threepwood sounded like a very expensive, fancy broom, like something that Raine might use--hadn't she once decided that a deck brush made for an acceptable weapon? Women...he would never fully understand their logic.

"I'm Kratos Aurion." Kratos paused and then added, "A mercenary."

[sheepwood]

"Mercenary?" Guybrush repeated. For someone with a record long enough to fill a few pages, he'd surprisingly met few mercenaries and bounty-hunter types in all his years of piracy. In fact, Morgan, as a Mighty Pirate Hunter™, was really the only one of note, but that might have been his personal bias talking, given that she was both a good friend and his biggest fan. He reasoned anyone who knew more about his own life than he did probably deserved the title of 'Most Notable Mercenary I've Met.'

"So what all do you do as a mercenary, Kratos?" he asked, curious. As far as he knew, mercenaries and bounty hunters were a little like- maybe not alike in the sense of hunting Mighty Pirates™, but there had to be more than a few similarities.

[spandexorgtfo]

It was truly remarkable how many people seemed to be unaware of what his occupation entailed. Granted, 'mercenary' hardly explained much, but he would have assumed that they would be more commonplace. It only seemed natural, after all, for a fighter looking for money (and often with nothing better to do) to go ahead and hire himself out for whatever odd jobs he could find that made use of his skills, regardless of the world he came from.

"What do I do?" Kratos shrugged. "So long as I'm paid, I'll do the job. It's normally just bodyguard work, but occasionally I've been called upon to dispose of bandits and the like."

[sheepwood]

Okay, so maybe Kratos' job was more similar to a Mighty Pirate Hunter™ than Guybrush initially thought. In fact, his 'so long as I'm paid' mantra was something right up Morgan's alley. At least she'd had a change of heart. Too bad she lost her life over it.

He still didn't know what he was going to do about that- there was little more disappointing than finally managing to defeat the bad guys and escape from a place of imprisonment, only to find oneself dead anyway. Maybe he'd luck out and the resurrection powers of the institute would carry over to the Caribbean.

"So... I'm guessing we probably wouldn't be friends outside of this place then, huh?" he asked innocently.

[spandexorgtfo]

Kratos' eyebrow arched in the perfect picture of mild patronization. "That depends. If someone were to hire me for the purpose of bringing you to justice or if you were to interfere with a job of mine, then no, we wouldn't be friends. Otherwise, I don't see why I would need to concern myself with a pirate's business."

Actually, he usually disposed of pirates on sight, but only because he normally had nothing better to do. Logic dictated that he do society a service (as a knight should) if the opportunity presented itself, and Kratos wasn't heartless enough to demand money every time he swung a sword.

At least, he reasoned, he gave them a chance to either run or repent before he cut them down. No one ever seemed to take him seriously, so their demise was really their own fault.

[sheepwood]

Guybrush swallowed the small lump in his throat, getting the feeling that Kratos would hunt down even his idol for the right price; whether or not he would regret it afterward was unknown. Guybrush considered it a good thing that most of the people who wanted him out of the way were either dead or completely broke, having blown all their funds on grog, cheap floozies, or fancy clothing more suitable for a person with said funds. While he had a knack for getting himself out of trouble, he had to admit that when a price was put on his head, it made everything ten times more complicated.

"I don't see why you wouldn't want to concern yourself with a pirate's business," Guybrush replied smugly. "We're pretty interesting people, if I do say so myself. Masters of the seas, skilled in the art of insult sword-fighting, with a tune in their hearts and a mug of grog in any hand they happen to have left- yep, pirates are probably some of the most lively and colorful people I know."