As the day began drawing to a close, the intercom flickered to life. Instead of Harrington's voice, however, Berg's calm tone filtered through the speakers
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As bad as things were, Woody couldn't help but smile to himself as his guard brought him to his room. Life was definitely tough here, but it was strangely encouraging to see that some folks here didn't let it drag them down all the time. More than that, he liked that Scott had a colorful imagination despite his age. A few minutes of play perked Woody a lot more than he thought it would.
It almost took the sting out of the pink gruel waiting for him -- keyword: almost. Woody sighed as he sunk down in front of his plate, annoyed that this place had even bothered to shove real food down his throat in the first place. If they'd just started him out on this junk, he probably wouldn't have understood the difference.
Propping his chin into one hand, Woody idly stirred the slop around with his fork. He wondered if Buzz was okay. His roommate had sounded like he was still here, but some of the stuff he wrote wasn't all that reassuring.
Once again, the day was ending with more unanswered questions about this place. That whole time travel mess was still weighing heavily on Zero's mind despite confirmations that it was true, and so was the thought of meeting Nigredo tomorrow and what might result from that. But the once-Reploid tried to stop himself from becoming too frustrated at all of this, especially over his unanswered questions. He'd already been warned a few times that things were supposed to be confusing around here, and he himself had concluded that keeping the prisoners in the dark was simply Aguilar's way of maintaining control. He should just expect the unexpected from now on and not let himself get too caught up over why this and why that
( ... )
When he heard someone step inside, Woody's face brightened. He'd wanted to talk to Wally and ask him if he had any idea of what happened over the past few days. The moment he turned around, though, his gaze landed on an unfamiliar face. It was difficult to tell much about the newcomer at first glance, but one thing stuck out: he had blond hair that was long enough to make some Barbie dolls jealous. Suspicious, Woody slightly furrowed his eyebrows.
"I'm, uh..." Wow, this wasn't weird at all. "I'm Woody." Something about their meeting didn't feel right to him. The new person was dressed like the other "patients", and yet Wally was nowhere in sight.
"Hey, listen, are you sure you have the right room?" he asked. Woody wasn't trying to be rude -- he was honestly curious. "You're not the guy who usually comes in here."
Zero said nothing at first, only stared at the unfamiliar man while appearing to be much less confused than he really was. This guy--Woody--looked pretty uncomfortable seeing him here, although the question he asked made his reaction understandable. Even so, why was he expecting a different person to come here? No one else had shown up last night when Zero had been in here, and he was positive that this was the same room he'd been taken to yesterday, too... Odd.
"I'm sure," the once-Reploid responded, "A soldier took me here himself, and I was here last night, too." That definitely meant he was supposed to be here, as far as the Institute was concerned. But the fellow prisoner's questioning made Zero curious. Was Woody sure he had the right room? "My name's Zero. Who's supposed to be here instead of me?" Chances were he didn't know whoever it was that Woody was expecting, but it couldn't hurt to ask anyway.
Woody couldn't help but look a little incredulous at that bit of information. Here last night, too? But that...wasn't possible, right? Then again, Woody's own memories were spotty before the start of last nightshift. What if this guy had been in the room all along, and he'd had no idea?
Either way, Zero was a weird name -- not the kind of thing a parent named their kid at all. Maybe it was a nickname? Well...it didn't matter, really. Not when Woody didn't know what happened to his real roommate.
"His name is Wally," the former toy explained. "Green eyes and red hair, a little taller than most people here, and kind of muscular?" Then there were some of those other details they'd talked about, but that felt like ages ago to Woody now. He still wasn't sure what to think about everything.
Woody was starting to get the uncomfortable feeling that he knew what all this meant, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. "A soldier...really took you here?"
Wally...an unfamiliar name, but Zero had figured that he wouldn't have recognized it. He also figured that he hadn't seen this person by description, but it couldn't hurt to try to think of all of the people he'd encountered in the institute anyway, just in case he really had seen Wally somewhere and just didn't remember. Hm...green eyes with red hair, taller than most humans, muscular build... No, nothing came to mind. Like he'd thought. "Sorry, I haven't seen him," he replied, shaking his head.
Judging from Woody's reaction to all of this, Wally must be someone important to him. So what happened to Wally, and why wasn't he here? It seemed like Woody had some idea there. Maybe. At least, Zero was getting the impression that the fellow prisoner didn't seem very willing to accept his presence here, most likely for some reason related to Wally...
"...Do you know what might have happened to Wally?" A room change? Or...
Upon hearing Zero's answer, Woody's face fell. He'd really never seen Wally before? True, there were a lot of people trapped here, so it might have been easy to miss him. But something didn't seem right here. The soldiers seemed too uptight to make a mistake about their assigned rooms. And if it was true that this guy came here yesterday evening too, then--
No. No no no no. People didn't just disappear into thin air. (Something had to have happened to make him disappear, he frantically thought before he could stop himself.) But between the gaps in his own memories and the creepy way this place worked, he could feel an anxious knot forming in his chest.
"I, uh...I don't know," Woody finally admitted. "I'll check on the bulletin board tomorrow. Maybe he's in a different room somewhere."
In the meantime, there wasn't much else he could do except wait. The former toy turned his full attention back on Zero, raising an eyebrow. "How long have you been stuck here, anyway?"
To Woody's disappointed reaction, Zero gave a brief (although very subtle) sympathetic look. Hopefully this was just a case of people being assigned to different rooms; but realistically - and a guess from the way Woody was worrying about him - it was entirely possible that Wally was dead. At least, death seemed like a possible answer when monsters roamed the hallways at night, among other dangerous things Zero had heard about but hadn't personally encountered yet. What happened if someone died here, anyway? How frequently did patients die and what did the staff do about it if someone did
( ... )
It almost took the sting out of the pink gruel waiting for him -- keyword: almost. Woody sighed as he sunk down in front of his plate, annoyed that this place had even bothered to shove real food down his throat in the first place. If they'd just started him out on this junk, he probably wouldn't have understood the difference.
Propping his chin into one hand, Woody idly stirred the slop around with his fork. He wondered if Buzz was okay. His roommate had sounded like he was still here, but some of the stuff he wrote wasn't all that reassuring.
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"I'm, uh..." Wow, this wasn't weird at all. "I'm Woody." Something about their meeting didn't feel right to him. The new person was dressed like the other "patients", and yet Wally was nowhere in sight.
"Hey, listen, are you sure you have the right room?" he asked. Woody wasn't trying to be rude -- he was honestly curious. "You're not the guy who usually comes in here."
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"I'm sure," the once-Reploid responded, "A soldier took me here himself, and I was here last night, too." That definitely meant he was supposed to be here, as far as the Institute was concerned. But the fellow prisoner's questioning made Zero curious. Was Woody sure he had the right room? "My name's Zero. Who's supposed to be here instead of me?" Chances were he didn't know whoever it was that Woody was expecting, but it couldn't hurt to ask anyway.
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Either way, Zero was a weird name -- not the kind of thing a parent named their kid at all. Maybe it was a nickname? Well...it didn't matter, really. Not when Woody didn't know what happened to his real roommate.
"His name is Wally," the former toy explained. "Green eyes and red hair, a little taller than most people here, and kind of muscular?" Then there were some of those other details they'd talked about, but that felt like ages ago to Woody now. He still wasn't sure what to think about everything.
Woody was starting to get the uncomfortable feeling that he knew what all this meant, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. "A soldier...really took you here?"
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Judging from Woody's reaction to all of this, Wally must be someone important to him. So what happened to Wally, and why wasn't he here? It seemed like Woody had some idea there. Maybe. At least, Zero was getting the impression that the fellow prisoner didn't seem very willing to accept his presence here, most likely for some reason related to Wally...
"...Do you know what might have happened to Wally?" A room change? Or...
Reply
No. No no no no. People didn't just disappear into thin air. (Something had to have happened to make him disappear, he frantically thought before he could stop himself.) But between the gaps in his own memories and the creepy way this place worked, he could feel an anxious knot forming in his chest.
"I, uh...I don't know," Woody finally admitted. "I'll check on the bulletin board tomorrow. Maybe he's in a different room somewhere."
In the meantime, there wasn't much else he could do except wait. The former toy turned his full attention back on Zero, raising an eyebrow. "How long have you been stuck here, anyway?"
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