Day 43: Intercom, Dawn

[damned_intercom]

Good morning, and welcome to your personalized tour of Landel's Institute! My name is I.R.I.S. and I will be your automated guide during your stay here. If you have any specific questions during our tour, please direct them to the personal console in your welcome bag. We will do our very best to address any concerns you may have

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[slipperymagic]

The first thing Howl became aware of was a woman calling his name. It was muffled by sleep, and his immediate instinct was to block it out. Howl could not recall the last time he had slept as deeply and pleasantly, and he was not about to be dragged out of bed by the only woman in any position to enter his room and nag him about oversleeping, which was inevitably what this situation was going to turn into.

Howl didn't want to open his eyes, because that would be admitting he was by now quite well awake, which Sophie would take as a victory. So Howl had to proudly fumble blindly for the edge of his covers. He gave them a firm yank and threw the blankets gracefully over his head. He hoped that this would give Sophie all the information she could possibly need, but it also gave her a clear view of his bony feet, which had been uncovered when his face was hidden. He felt ridiculous, but stubbornly pretended he was still fast asleep and utterly unbothered by the breeze on his toes. In fact, it was completely pleasant and relaxing, his body language said.

"Howell, please," Sophie said again. Except she sounded far too young, and not nearly impertinent enough. He was beginning to rescind his earlier decision to lie still until he was left alone.

"For heavens sake, you infuriatingly nosy old woman," he muttered groggily (about two thirds of the grogginess was faked at this point) from beneath the covers, which were not nearly as thick and heavy as he had expected them to be. They also smelled completely wrong. "Have you no humanity? It's... it's... what time is it?"

"Late enough," the woman snapped tersely. That sounded more in character for the person Howl expected to see, but when the blankets were pulled off him unceremoniously, it was not Sophie or Michael or anyone else he knew. The young lady, for she was no older than Howl himself, was obviously annoyed to have been called old and nosy with such a harsh tone. He could hardly blame her, and might have felt a bit bad if he were not immediately distracted by her very presence.

She was dressed like a nurse, first off. He was not in his room, his castle, or even Ingary at all.

"... Where am I?" He asked, just barely managing to reign in his confusion. Simultaneously, Howl began to wrack his brain for the last thing he could remember. He had been in Wales, but Sophie and Michael had been with him. The last thing he remembered was stepping through the portal. His stomach sunk into his feet, and he felt a bit ill.

"You're at Landel's Institute, Mr. Jenkins," she said proudly. "You have been sent here to get better. Your family is very worried about you." She obviously did not like him, which was a pity, because she was not unfortunate looking. Howl shook his head, and quickly berated himself into focusing on the matter at hand.

[slipperymagic]

"Get better? I'm not ill-" Howl stopped himself, as the situation sunk in. "Wait, I'm at a mental institution?"

"There's no shame in it." The nurse had softened a little bit. Howl couldn't say he was entirely pleased to be earning pity points with the obviously astounded look that was frozen on his face.

Howl sat up and swung his feet off the bed. The pieces were beginning to fall into place, but there were still some uncomfortably large chunks missing. Two of them had names, and Howl was worried that they could be just about anywhere. He hoped they were safe in Ingary, under Calcifer's protection, but could just imagine Michael and Sophie wandering the streets of Cardiff, looking terrified and holding hands or something equally pathetic. Although he could imagine their fear very clearly, he knew it was actually his own terror being imprinted upon them. They were of a stronger fiber than he was.

"I apologize for my earlier behavior," he said, smiling in a way that seemed genuine but was not. "I simply cannot recall how I ended up here. I don't suppose it was my sister-"

"Please, don't be angry with your family," she interrupted. "It's time for breakfast."

"Of course," he agreed. The only hint at his unhappiness was a persistent twitch in his forefinger. "I shall need to visit the washroom first." As soon as he said it, Howl felt rather naked. He could tell that he had absolutely nothing in the way of cosmetic spells, and his hair-

His hair. His HAIR.

It was lank, unwashed and a shade of very dark brown that he hadn't seen in years. Not to mention that he hadn't even started feeling distressed by his new 'clothes'. He was too distracted by his building horror to notice the look of patient pity on his nurse.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jenkins, I can't let you do that." She placed his slippers in front of him. "Doctor's orders. We can't encourage that behavior anymore."

Howl was beginning to suspect that Megan may have had him committed for narcissism. It seemed rather mundane compared to all of the other, more colorful things she might have wished to have him locked up for. However, it did rank above diagnosis: atrociously shameful relative.

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