Day 43: Library (4th Shift)

[quickdrawbkiddo]

Beatrix glanced briefly at the bulletin board before she headed into the library. It wasn't as if she had any interests in the book, but there was something about browsing book shelves that gave a person time to think while reducing the odds that someone would bother her

Comments

[its_the_mileage]

Indy was still reeling when the nurse led him out of the lobby and back into the hall. What he needed now was a chance to think, to process what had just happened and to figure out what the hell he should do next. He asked--and God, that rankled, especially now--to be taken to the patient library, where he found a chair in a quiet corner and sat.

The first thing to do was try to find out what happened to the visitors. Hard to believe that Landel would just send them home, not after going to all the trouble of bringing them through time and brainwashing them. And unless the good doctor wanted to know something about the Grail, he didn't need Dad. Except, maybe, as a means of controlling Indy himself

[vsyourface]

The more Scott considered adventure games like Sam & Max, the more he could see how the kinds of responses he was getting on the bulletin and from NPCs could be so detailed and specific. It felt like he was coming up with questions on his own like he would in normal conversations, but for all he knew, he was just getting really fast at selecting questions from dialogue trees. Each character obviously had a few unique, quirky options available, and each question in turn had a response all lined up for it. That had to be it. Never mind the fact that it really, really strained any semblance of logic or credibility. Scott had always known that he was a pretty awesome guy; it made sense that he would sometimes find new ways in which to be awesome, near-psychic reading and selection abilities included. Not to mention the massive numbers of crossover characters and references struck him as something LucasArts in its prime would do

[its_the_mileage]

Indy wiped the glare off his face and looked up to see a younger fellow, maybe mid-twenties and with an accent which sounded to Indy like it could be Canadian, although one sentence wasn't enough to peg it for sure. A shift to himself around here was about as rare and fleeting as fortune and glory.

But thinking wasn't getting him much of anywhere right now, and the guy seemed to be asking in good faith, so Indy nodded in acknowledgment and uncrossed his arms to show he was willing to talk. "I'm fine," he said. "Just had a visit that didn't go over as well as I'd've liked." This was a long shot, but it was better to look and turn up nothing than let what you were looking for slip by you, so he added, "I don't suppose you know anything about what happens to the visitors when they leave." Assuming they left.

[vsyourface]

Ah, so he'd picked the right option (if that was indeed what he was doing)! "Oh yeah, that I.R.I.S. thing said something about visitors," said Scott, sitting down in the seat opposite and trying not to boggle that he was looking straight at such a famous face. The guy was so realistic-looking, like he was really looking at a live person and not at a rendering on a screen.

Maybe that's because there is no screen? the words from the bulletin prodded at him.

Shut up! You're not the boss of me, Second Peter!"Sorry, man. I just woke up a couple of shifts ago myself. Was just kinda worried to see a guy looking so down and out," he answered after Solo-Jones-Ford-Person asked him his question. He had skimmed over some bulletin posts about visitors, but hadn't been paying too much attention to them in his back-and-forths with Second Peter and Porky and such. The most he could remember was that they were supposed to be people that the patient knew, but not really. Maybe they were evil twin versions of the person's loved ones? "Your visitor

[its_the_mileage]

"Well, thanks," Indy said, trying to muster up some enthusiasm. He probably should have guessed that the guy was new here--everyone who'd been around for last night still seemed to have that kind of beaten-down air about them. This one almost looked like he was having fun. "And no, he looked fine. It was his memories that were a problem. It sounds like that's typical for visitors around here." Which Indy would've known if he'd just read the damn board more carefully this morning. Even so, he had a feeling knowing ahead of time wouldn't have helped much. Those lines about stabbings and car salesmen had a lot more punch in person than they would on the page

[vsyourface]

Scott could empathize for the visitors having memory troubles. He was a pretty big victim of poor memory himself on occasion. Okay, maybe more than that. More like all the time. He couldn't even remember purchasing the game he was playing or what it was called, for goodness sake. His memory problems were most likely a lot different from the ones the visitors had, but still

[its_the_mileage]

Extra lives? What the hell? Indy wasn't sure if that was a lousy joke or some sort of spiritual belief he'd never run across, or if this Pilgrim was just off his rocker. Either way, clearly it was time somebody had a talk with the guy

[vsyourface]

Scott listened to Indy caution him, and it was a miracle that he did not just interrupt the man at some point with a well-placed "C'mon, I'm Scott Pilgrim!" He had main character status (as far as he knew), and as such was pretty confident that he would be much harder to kill than anyone else around. He somehow managed to keep his mouth shut out of sheer respect for the man with the whip. Figurative whip. Whatever

[its_the_mileage]

Part of him was tempted to let the man take his chances. Indy had better things to do than run a babysitting service here, and while he could certainly empathize with a little healthy skepticism, outright hubris wasn't a terribly endearing quality. Assuming another disaster like last night didn't happen, Pilgrim could probably barge around on his own for a few nights without getting cornered by King Kong or those damned bugs or whatever else was loose in this building.

On the other hand, Pilgrim struck Indy as an okay guy despite his naivete. Indy wasn't getting any of the twinges of uneasiness he'd felt about Dent here. Whatever he decided to do that night (better talk to Pierson and see what he'd come up with, if anything), maybe he could stand to let Pilgrim tag along. A good fighter would be an asset, assuming he wasn't just blowing smoke. Big assumption

[vsyourface]

Scott nodded as he listened to the advice on finding weapons. Knives weren't really his style. Heck, weapons in general weren't really his style (although he did still have that longsword proficiency on hand for when it was needed). If he was going to have to use a weapon, though, metal pipes didn't seem like a bad choice

[its_the_mileage]

"Vegan"? There was another term Indy had never heard before. If that trend kept up the way it'd been going today, he was going to have to start keeping a list. A "vegan" was evidently supposed to be something impressive to have taken down with your bare...head?--a dangerous person or some kind of wild animal, Indy theorized. He dismissed the "psychic" part as too ridiculous to merit further thought. How did screwballs like this always seem to find him

[vsyourface]

Scott rubbed his chin. Had he asked what his room number was? If he had, he couldn't remember what it was. "Uh, sure, I know exactly what it is! Hang on a sec," he said, standing up for a moment and signalling a nurse over to him. He quickly asked what his room number was, nodded when he got an answer, then let the woman go on her way. He sat back down. "There, M107! Told you I knew what it was! When did you ever doubt me?" he said with a smile and a joking laugh. Somewhere, Kim Pine was facepalming.

"Anyway, you want to meet me there, or should I come find you somewhere after your stop?" he asked

[its_the_mileage]

Indy was having a whole lot of doubts right now, not the least of which was whether Pilgrim should really be venturing out of his room at all. Too late now.

"I'll meet you right outside your room as soon as I can," he answered, trying to be as clear and specific as possible. "If you want to leave already armed, you can try to get the hanging rod out of your closet. It might hold you until you can find something better." He thought about mentioning a flashlight, but they'd have the torch. What the hell did you do with a torch in a place like this, Indy groused to himself. And where did whoever that was on the bulletin board get one to begin with?

Well, he could cross that bridge when he came to it. The important thing right now was to make sure he and Pilgrim were clear, which it sounded like they were. "Anything else you need to know before tonight?" Indy asked, just in case.

[vsyourface]

Not picking up on Indy's dread, Scott simply shook his head and kept grinning. "Nope, I gotcha. I'll hang around until you get there. And thanks for the closet tip!" he answered, bright-eyed and clearly determined to do well on his first level night. With that plan settled, Scott stood up and started to leave. "Later, Indy! Don't make me wait too long!" he said, waving over his shoulder as he went.