Day 57: Sun Room

[bodhiandspirit]

It figured that night would end before Rita and Taura could progress any further. Rita wasn't particularly disappointed to wake up abruptly, as they had reached a dead end. Really, the institute was doing them a favor by bringing them back to the starting point, where they could regroup.

What she didn't appreciate was the loss of valuable time,

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[fourstonewalls]

Night ended with no accusing shadows, no unearthed ghosts. Maybe the feedback was just that -- or maybe it had only affected the basement.

The intercom was a surprise, for half a sentence; then a wave of static cut rain into snow and made the deception obvious. My, my, was Aguilar already having trouble? What had he said, at the end of night?

Spanish. He'd been speaking Spanish, with an accent most Los Angelenos heard every day. It was the first time she'd heard a foreign language in the Institute since the night Agatha had been brainwashed, though language had taken a back seat to fencing foils from both sides. She hadn't seen the girl lately; pity, since Ema could use more friends her own age.

Not that she'd be easy to pry from one Prosecutor Edgeworth, who was managing to look dignified in what amounted to pajamas the same color as his hair

[fourstonewalls]

"A society in microcosm? That's not a bad theory." It explained pulling in groups; you couldn't build a social hierarchy overnight, not and have it be functional. The structure, too; asylums weren't universally the same, but most of the patients described a world where they weren't too out of place, and that would normalize it for the rest.

"Unfortunately, it doesn't leave us with very many viable methods of fighting back." Reacting badly, but without knowing what their captors wanted the net result to be, it would be difficult to manipulate the data. If, indeed, that would provoke anything other than further manipulation. "All we can do is keep digging." Her expression showed her exhaustion, but not defeat; she was in this for the long haul.

It was odd, how much the initial trial system had turned her life into a clockwork beast; she'd been here long enough to have run two trials and be almost done with the third -- not counting Sundays. Even as a detective, most cases were done before the ink was dry on the initial

I hope you're okay with ending things here?

[unheroed]

"I can keep digging," Harvey responded after a pause. He realized how much the odds were against them, but when there were people like Lana around who continued to think and theorize, it reminded him that they still had some chance of cracking this. It was a very slim chance and he might just get sick of it and put a bullet through his head at some point, but for the moment he was hanging on