Comments | damned: Day 57: Waiting Room/Lobby 2 (Fourth Shift)

unheroed in damned

Day 57: Waiting Room/Lobby 2 (Fourth Shift)

Jul 05, 2011 11:11

By some stroke of luck, Harvey hadn't been bothered while he'd been in the library, allowing him to lose himself in a random book for at least a little while. Even so, he'd gone through all of his possible options for who might be visiting, from Gordon (in which case he'd probably end up sedated by the end of it) to his mother to Bruce Wayne to ( Read more... )

carter, venom, tsubaki, visitors, two-face, battler, l, sync

Comments 32

dreadofthegrave July 6 2011, 03:49:06 UTC

All things considered, the day had actually been pretty pleasant for Battler. Things had been simple and easy-going. Given the circumstances, it was less a good day and more some feeble kind of comfort painted over the underlying tension of the place, but it was exactly because the situation was so screwed up that it was important to hold onto little things. .... Everyone needed a break now and then, right? When things got tough, there was a difference between holding out and wearing yourself thin ( ... )

damned_visitors July 7 2011, 01:05:38 UTC

Sometimes, Jack wished the world would cut him some slack. Business trips and power lunches were all well and good on the weekdays, but the weekend was his time to unwind. Play a round of golf or whatever the rich and the privileged did to waste a day. The fact that he had gotten on a plane with a six-year-old to visit a nineteen-year-old at a mental institution came off as rather tense in comparison, and he assumed he wouldn't get a chance to relax. Not that it wasn't a crucial visit for the man; he simply did not want to appear put off in front of his son. A boy needed his father for courage and strength, and Jack had only hours to fake both ( ... )

dreadofthegrave July 31 2011, 03:34:51 UTC

And then he punched his dad in the balls.

stlg13bomber July 6 2011, 16:19:34 UTC

A visitor? That was funny, Carter didn't even think anyone knew he was here. He was far from his own time, all his friends and relatives were probably dead by now, and he hadn't contacted anyone outside the institute. Maybe it was one of the shopkeepers from Doyleton who'd really taken a shine to him, but he couldn't think of anyone he'd gotten particularly close to.

Carter sat in his designated chair, fidgeting awkwardly. He supposed he'd have to see when they got here. He hoped they were nice and that it wasn't just an odd mistake.

damned_visitors July 7 2011, 05:01:24 UTC

When Gunther Fuhrmann first arrived, part of him had to privately admit he was grateful to see the building hadn't sustained any damage since his nephew had been admitted. He didn't need the extra bills, particularly when faced with the costly treatments Landel's Institute provided. Not that he begrudged Harold the finest care money could buy, of course -- but, at the very least, keeping the man away from explosives meant they were doing something right in this place.

Immediately, he caught sight of his familiar face. After hesitating by the doorway a brief moment, Gunther squared his shoulders and strode across the room.

"Harold," he greeted, and the warm smile came more naturally than he would have thought. After all, they hadn't parted on the best of circumstances. But family stuck together, through good and bad.

stlg13bomber July 7 2011, 05:27:07 UTC

Carter had been pleasantly drumming his fingers on his knees and waiting for one of the passing visitors to magically recognize him. He'd been expecting something strange but he hadn't been expecting to see his old kommandant come walking through the doorway and call him by a strange name. He gaped in momentary astonishment and then broke down laughing.

Klink? That couldn't be Klink. What would Klink of all people be doing here? He was missing his monocle and out of uniform but that face was pretty hard to miss.

"I-I'm sorry," he managed, choking down his laughter. "You just...you look like someone I know." Of course it couldn't be Klink, Klink would be long dead now even if he lived to be an old man. It could be one of his descendants but he was pretty sure Klink had never had any kids. Either way, it was impossible that the old man knew him.

damned_visitors July 7 2011, 16:32:38 UTC

His nephew, it seemed, didn't realize who he was. Gunther wondered if he even needed to bother taking his coat off, since their conversation would undoubtedly be more frustrating than anything else. But he drove all this way to see Harold, so it wouldn't be right to just turn around and leave now that he was actually here.

"Of course I do, Harold," he said with a frown. "I'm your uncle. Don't you remember?"

He sat down in the seat across from Harold, removing his winter hat from his head. His gloves and goat, however, remained where they were. It felt awkward sitting here like this, but that couldn't be helped.

Thread 12

damned_visitors July 6 2011, 17:23:28 UTC

There was an almost looming kind of regret on Bruce's shoulders as he walked into the patient waiting area, keeping an eye out for Aaron Eckhart's face. Or, rather, what was left of it. When he caught sight of the malformed wound, he felt his stomach twist -- not in any particular disgust, exactly, but in sympathy. In distress that Aaron was still choosing to refuse treatment for his burns. That alone gave him a good indicator of how Aaron felt about his psychological treatment.

Bruce had been careful. He'd found the most prestigious, promising psychological institute in the nation. When Aaron lost it -- When he lost himself. It was what Rachel would have wanted. She cared about him, as much as that incited a strange defensiveness in Bruce, and that wasn't something he'd trivialize just because she wasn't there to harangue him about Aaron's care ( ... )

unheroed July 6 2011, 18:44:58 UTC

Harvey spotted the man the second he stepped into the room. Maybe it was because Bruce Wayne was just the kind of guy who turned heads or maybe it was because he'd been watching the door like a hawk, but he was pretty sure he saw Bruce before Bruce saw him ( ... )

damned_visitors July 11 2011, 21:38:30 UTC

It was a good thing he'd been prepared to face Aaron's enraged outbursts. After all, he'd never been quite the same after the fire, and the animosity had been a part of that. His furious resistance against accepting Rachel's death. The doctors had claimed it was part of why he'd adopted this new persona.

Split personalities, they explained, could be deemed an unhealthy method of coping. It was easier for Aaron to live in a fantasy world where what had killed Rachel was evil that had come from nowhere. That was the reason this 'Joker' he'd manifested never had a true identity. He represented the unadulterated chaos that Aaron saw in Rachel's death, the pain that he couldn't rationalize away.

Hearing the explanations and seeing what had happened to him were two different things entirely. He'd never expected Aaron to be happy to see him, it had been clear that he'd been threatened by Bruce while Rachel was still alive, but something less than ardent loathing would have been nice. After all, he'd thought so highly of Aaron ( ... )

unheroed July 11 2011, 23:50:43 UTC

Oh, this was just rich. Did Bruce honestly think that he was some sort of caretaker now? Harvey had gone off and lost his mind and now he had to babysit? That wasn't how it had gone at all, for one thing. He wished he could just tell the idiot to get lost so he didn't have to bear this ridiculous charade, and yet he knew that if he got too out of hand he'd only pay for it ( ... )

Thread 8

1/2 quarter_english July 8 2011, 23:18:30 UTC

After finishing both his bowl of indifferent porridge and his conversation with his new acquaintance, L hadn't been settled on where he would go--but then, he'd caught sight of Lunge being escorted to the Library. The subterfuge intended to protect the Lars alias would proceed better if they weren't in the same room at the same time at any point between the day's two meals, and the Library was the only one of the activity rooms which L had considered. His second choice was, to him, the only choice ( ... )

2/2 quarter_english July 8 2011, 23:19:33 UTC

His train of thought was interrupted by the appearance of his escort. "Laurier? You have a visitor. This way."

A visitor? His first impulse was to wonder if it would be another simulacrum of Watari, marginally convincing if he didn't look hard enough. Landel's knowledge of L had seemed to be so thorough, in many ways... why didn't he understand that L would always try to look as hard as possible? Maybe it was Aguilar, or his underlings, who didn't grasp it. They might try Yagami, or Amane, both of which would fit what L had heard about visitors, the idea that they were reformed patients ( ... )

Re: 2/2 damned_visitors July 10 2011, 03:10:32 UTC

Just coming back to Landel's made Langdon Caul feel nervous. The hallucinations and headaches had faded when the tumor was finally removed and the delusions had eventually followed, but he still had the memories. The sooner anyone could be released from that self-induced hell the better ( ... )

quarter_english July 30 2011, 11:24:27 UTC

As Abe entered the room and took his seat, L leaned forward across the table, staring at his visitor with keen, undisguised fascination.

Not Watari; not even Yagami or Amane or any other significant person from his history prior to the Institute. It had only been five days since he and his erstwhile roommate had last seen each other. Why did they choose him? Am I less likely to be skeptical of him?

Then, Maybe he made the choice himself. If nothing else, it would tie in with the way Aguilar was hiding both his own presence at the Institute and that of his troops, and with the way Abe had seemed to feel responsible, in their last conversation, for his inability to rescue L from Monday night's procedure ( ... )

ran_on_empty July 9 2011, 02:58:23 UTC

Sync wanted nothing to do with the visitors ( ... )

damned_visitors July 9 2011, 03:57:06 UTC

Somebody would have been better off paying attention to his surroundings. You never knew who was going to be popping up in places like this spooky old dump.

How she had managed to stay out of Stephen's line of sight was going to be a secret. What was important was that not a minute later after her adorable little friend sat down was there strands of bright red hanging over his head and a carefully wrapped basket being dropped into his lap. She could have given him time to adjust, but that would distract from the great big hug she was trying to give him from behind!

It might have been her intention to make that hug just a little too strong and restricting. Maybe.

"Hello, Steffy!" came the cheery and eerily familiar shout she gave right into his ear. Oh, she just missed this. She was positive he did too.

ran_on_empty July 10 2011, 15:51:49 UTC

Had Sync been in any less control of his reflexes he would've shoved away whoever decided to surprise him like that, embracing him like they even had a reason to.

But instead the sight of red triggered the appropriate memory, and the sweet voice accompanying that suspicious grip was more than enough to signify who'd come for him. To be honest, she wasn't the one that first came to mind, but it wasn't like this institute was ever the predictable type. If anything, he preferred her company more than anyone he knew on Auldrant; that is, unless she decided to slit his throat with a hairpin when no one was looking.

"Linda," He began, a smile drawing over his mouth. His fingers traced the edge of the basket, though he made no move to sift through its contents just yet. "It's great to see you, but are you sure it's good idea for you to come back so soon?"

damned_visitors July 10 2011, 20:19:35 UTC

Linda laughed as she relented her grip and lithely danced around his chair to face him. It was weird. It felt like it had been forever since she'd seen him, but it wasn't that long at all. Less than a week? Ugh. Less than a week ago she was spouting about lawyers and murdering people and about what a little freak Stephen was.

...maybe he was a little right, too. "Really? I haven't been sure of much of anything lately." Her hand found the back of her head and rubbed, her fingers gently scratching her scalp. It still wasn't long enough to tell which memories were real or not. She could swear on her life that this guy wasn't as innocent as the face he was giving her, but how much stock could she put into a memory that involved killing zombies with a power tool? Not that it was entirely a bad memory to hang on to, but-- Focus, Linny."Um," she interrupted herself, skittering off for a second to pull a chair across the floor she could sit in. "Anyway. How are you? Still dealing with that creepy blond kid and his friends?" What were their ( ... )