Day 55: Courtyard [2nd Shift]

[sheepwood]

After what seemed like an eternity of being amused, irritable, bored, in pain, in excruciating pain, and any combination of those, Guybrush was met by the same soldier who had led him to the cafeteria. He wasn't offered a trip to the Sun Room to check the bulletin board, but didn't push for it anyway. That would have been more walking, and moving

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[anemptydecapo]

As much as he could claim the last shift had been a waste of time, the solitude had done him some good. Busywork the cleaning may have been, but it was familiar to early life in the Guild. Chores were nothing he couldn't handle, especially if he could think by himself during them

[herr_inspektor]

Lunge couldn't say that he'd particularly contributed to the new state of the cafeteria, but it was a relief nonetheless when they were released back into the hallway. Those officers- he had a feeling they would be seeing a lot more of them over the coming days, as the executors of Aguilar's will. Assuming they lasted several days at all, of course. Who, he found himself wondering, would they run into at night? The nurses had changed into monsters, or so he'd heard, but what about the soldiers? Did they change as well? Did they need to, with the weaponry at their disposal?

Out to the courtyard next, the schedule reminded him. The soldier who had brought him down for breakfast appeared to hand him a leather jacket- good quality, typical military issue, 'O. Jung' embroidered near the collar- and take him through the Sun Room. Food for thought: if all pretense had been dropped, why were they still using their false names? Was that the ultimate aim? For them to emerge into their new persona, freshly hardened from their experiences? But

[anemptydecapo]

"Yes." It was an easy answer. He'd only spoken to the man in what amounted to two times, but Venom had no trouble placing the voice without looking up. "Good morning, inspector," he responded, voice neither confirming or denying how good it might have actually been. The only emotion detectable behind that hair was simple acceptance of the presence near him

[herr_inspektor]

The reaction wasn't entirely welcoming or encouraging, but that it wasn't an outright refusal to speak with him was reason enough to stay; given Venom's previous apathy Lunge had already decided that there was no point in expecting any sort of enthusiasm at his presence. That, and it was likely that the man was still trying to focus, even if a conversation had been initiated

[fourstonewalls]

Ema had come into the cafeteria near the end of the shift, downcast and too far away for Lana to even attempt to catch her eye. By the time she'd made it out into the Sun Room, Ema was gone. A note, however, had been left in her wake, one that was kinder than she had any right to be. Lana closed her eyes and took a long, deep breath in and out. Then she set to answering both that and the usual morning flurry of inquiries.

Agatha. Poor Ema. This on top of last night. Relationships here were, by their nature, transitory, but Ema didn't do things halfway. Professional reserve was something she'd learn with experience; it had its place, even when not taken to extremes, but right now she just clung to people. Understandably so; neither of them knew when those they cared about would be taken away without so much as a hint of warning

[gamingsostfu]

Snow. Matt hadn't seen snow in quite a while, and it was strange to think he'd missed it. As he zipped up his jacket and stepped out into the whiteness, he had to silently thank whoever in the new management had decided to make real, actual boots part of their daily uniform

[fourstonewalls]

"A little. It's been a long time since I've seen even this much snow -- Los Angeles doesn't get much. Wherever we are, we're a lot further north. Or south, I guess."

It was all the sort of idle chit-chat they were supposed to be making. Talking about the weather, for heaven's sake. "Lana Skye." She extracted her right hand from her coat and held it out.

"I think I even miss the traffic jams. Not the smog, though. At least not yet." She smiled, a little sadly.

[gamingsostfu]

He had to crack a smile at that, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and looking up. "I know what you mean. I keep finding myself missing LA too, but you have to admit - standing here in the snow's pretty nice

[fangirlfatale]

These guys were lucky they hadn't tried to make her clean. Morgan had stood the whole first shift with her head held high, evaluating the new wardens. She accepted that Aguilar's army could shoot sixteen different holes in her while she was still slitting the first throat, but that didn't mean she was impressed. She'd met cowards like this before, so-called "fighters" who hid behind numbers and fancy weapons instead of--oh, say, actual techniqueThe problem was that every once in a while, it worked. Like now. Morgan definitely didn't consider herself beaten, but this regime change did look like it might complicate their escape plans even more than LeChuck's getaway with Elaine already had. With the way her guard marched her outside without a word, practically shoved a jacket at her and then stood around glowering like he had a mizzenmast up his aft, a daytime escape was obviously not an option

[sheepwood]

Guybrush straightened as Morgan's voice briefly pulled him from his pain-induced stupor. The sudden move was one he regretted almost instantly. While he really didn't like Morgan seeing him in what was probably one of his sorrier states (at least she hadn't seen him dead yet- he still had one up on her) because it implied some brilliant plan of his was not quite as mind-blowingly ingenious as initially expected, there was really no way of making his condition seem any better than it looked. She couldn't have missed the swollen nose had she affixed one of her fliers to it. Besides: he was in too much pain to be bothered to act like he wasn't

[fangirlfatale]

"His chest? And having a sword in there didn't cause him any problems?" Morgan was suddenly standing up straighter. "He...didn't explain how he did it, did he?"

...On second thought, maybe now wasn't the best time to think about adding new tricks to her repertoire. "Anyway, if there was an insult that could beat those things, I'm sure you'd know it," she added quickly. "What's important is that you made it."

Her enthusiasm faded further when Guybrush changed the subject. Talking about her night wasn't high on Morgan's to-do list. She hated having to give progress reports before a job was done, especially when she hadn't made that much progress to speak of--all she'd done was look around again, without finding Elaine or even anything to do with her sword other than slash at shadows. "Um...not bad," she said carefully. "But I still haven't found anyone at night who might know something about Elaine and LeChuck. You haven't heard anything new since the other night, have you?" Turning the tables: one of Morgan's favorite tactics.

[sheepwood]

Guybrush grimaced as Morgan turned the conversation back toward him. His initial, sarcastic response about how much information he gained by being pounded into a wall by a piece of furniture died before it reached his tongue- better not make things worse between himself and one of the few friends he had left in the institute, especially since she was one of the most competent people he knew (himself included). While he liked to think he could get through anything given enough time, the right items, and some room for trial-and-error, he had to admit that even the mightiest of pirates needed help occasionally. Especially when his wife wasn't around to fix his messes

[swornandbroken]

Mello didn't disapprove of the leather jacket, but he kept his expression blank as he put it on and followed the soldier out into the cold. Was it snowingWith a terse reminder that he wasn't to sit, the soldier left Mello on his own. He knew she'd be keeping an eye on him for further disobedience, which was fine. He'd learnt what he needed to, and he was more than able to follow the letter of the law while subverting its spirit. He thought Aguilar was banking on the prisoners accepting the system, buying into it, even. Landel had poured on the oily charm during the day, and had often seemed, even at night, to be trying to convince them he was on their side. Mello had long since decided that was a symptom of his particular mental disorder. The bastard probably even believed, at times, that he was acting for the prisoners' ultimate good. He had certainly claimed as much in the moment of his defeat

[tsunagari]

[from here]

It was clear to Sai now. He wasn't imagining things, and the shift before hadn't been any sort of fluke. The soldiers really were being less harsh with him than they were with many of the other patients. Was it because of the 'S-Class' now marked on the tags around his neck? Preferential treatment, apparently, simply for having been around longer?

But then what determined who stayed longer than others? If they were getting rewarded for remaining, then what was it that decided who was taken away? Was it various factors involving how they acted during their stay? What had he done differently from someone like Naruto? And if Naruto wasn't showing them the results they wanted, then why did they keep bringing him back? Did they believe that taking him from a different point in time would change the results of whatever test they were being put through?

His mind wandered as he crossed the field, and he didn't take much notice of who he passed in the process.

[swornandbroken]

It had been a while since Mello had spoken to Sai, and when he spotted the ninja, he called his name quietly. The younger man appeared distracted, and Mello wasn't surprised. He knew Sai had been here longer than most of the prisoners, and the changes must've provided plentiful food for thought for him.

Mello stepped closer, his boots crunching faintly on the snow that had fallen so far. "I'd be interested to know what you think of all this."

He'd dismissed Sai as insane in their first conversation, mostly on the basis of the ninja having memories Mello didn't share; had known enough by their next meeting to make amends, insofar as he could stand to. Now it was sobering, though not wholly unpleasant, to realize he regarded the other as a trusted source of information.

[tsunagari]

When Sai heard his name called, he stopped. He hadn't spoken to Mello for some time and was somewhat surprised to be approached by him now.

But only somewhat. The blond was crafty, and he'd be looking for answers just as much as the ninja was. This just meant he considered him a worthwhile source of information, as well he should. Sai nodded a greeting as he waited for the other to get within better speaking range. He didn't think the soldiers would bother them if they wanted to talk.

"I'm not sure I know what to think." He shook his head, lifting his tag a little so that Mello could read it. "They seem to be dividing us up based on certain requirements. I believe it has to do with how long we've been in the Institute." And there was more. The bottom number contained his ninja registration number with two others tacked onto the end. The other man didn't need to know this yet, though. If it seemed to be important, he might bring it up.

[mugenreppa]

And they were being herded out into the courtyard anyway. Grumbling (but not so loud or so coherent that the guards could hear it), Mele stalked over to a convenient tree and leaned against it. Stupid guards. Stupid hat. Stupid cold.

Mele hunched her shoulders, stood that way for a few minutes, then finally condescended to actually put the jacket on. At least now she knew that that fake identity had a surname, she thought as she zipped up. She hadn't thought of that when she'd poked around the Patient Possessions room with Scarecrow. Welcome to your life, my a-

Too bad she hadn't been paying much attention when the guards had been fighting the patients the day before. She might've gathered useful information then, but she hadn't really anticipated needing it. If I don't fight, that wouldn't a issue, would it? she thought, which only made her grumpier, because it used to a choice, a tactic. What had she missed yesterday?

[free]