The intercom came on and the Head Doctor began speaking in his normal, cheery voice. It seemed he had recovered from last night's troubles, at least outwardly
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The sequence of events was simply laid out in Near's mind. Gevanni had reported a change in Mikami Teru's movements, the man deviating from his rigid schedule to go to his bank for the second day in a row. Near had enough time to question it, to just barely begin to form the reasons in his mind, as if a nearly complete puzzle's picture had suddenly changed
( ... )
Near closed the drawer, and moved to the dresser, just opening the bottom drawer when he was interrupted by a woman dressed in typical nurse wear. He noticed, however, that she didn't appear to be wearing a stethoscope, something one would expect a medical practitioner doing routine checks in a hospital to automatically have. Did that mean this wasn't an ordinary medical hospital
( ... )
For now, Near decided that he might as well play along with the nurse's insistence. Since this was a bedroom, no doubt he'd be returned here during the night, giving him a chance to complete his exploration. And while he didn't relish the idea of joining however many others were beyond his room, Near knew it was at present the best way to learn about his situation. The nurse would not talk, and while he could wring details out through carefully asked questions and judged answers, it might in fact be as easy to find a solitary corner to listen in on other people's conversations. He took a pair of indoor slippers from the drawer, and once he confirmed that there was no resulting protest to indicate that the item was not meant for him, slid them on. The test was repeated when Near got a notebook and a pen, and after similar results, Near followed the woman into the hall.
With a sharp breath Donna’s eyes flew wide open and glimpsed the white of the room’s ceiling. The face of the blond woman was gone, the flashes of images from that alternate world as well, and all that was left was white. A shining, blinding kind of white, almost unearthly for how it was glowi--
“Oh my God, I died!” Donna yelped, stunned. She kept still on the bed and continued staring up at the ceiling a moment longer, contemplating what she’d just said herself, before repeating an equally stunned, yet much calmer, “I… died
( ... )
Before she got there, the door opened to reveal an elderly woman, probably close to her Granddad's age only a bit younger, entering with a bright smile. "Up already, Mrs. McAvoy? Wonderful. It's a great way to meet a new day, rising when you should."
Oh good, someone who could tell her where that spaceman had gone off to. If he was out having a grand old time without her...! Donna brought her index finger up to start demanding some answers when she stopped. Had she just been called what she think she had? "Excuse me, sorry, not sure I heard you right, but did you just call me McAvoy?"
The nurse gave a pleasant smile and nodded slowly. "Of course dear, that's your name."
Donna's mouth opened while her hands found their way to her hips and her eyes turned up at the ceiling in disbelief. "Well isn't this just, wizard? I'm stuck here again?! Thanks a lot, blondie, I thought everything was supposed to be bloody fixed, but that's just too hard, isn't it?! First four miles away and then cyberspace again"Mrs. McAvoy, please, just calm down
( ... )
The Doctor was awake. He had woken up, which was funny, because he didn't remember going to sleep. He didn't remember much, actually, after leaving Donna with her family. He'd gone back to the TARDIS, and then… what? He must've travelled somewhere and then dozed off, because this room certainly wasn't in the TARDIS, even if the white décor was a bit nostalgic. But to not remember the journey... It was peculiar (to say the least), unless he'd been spirited away out of the TARDIS by some outside force.
"What?"
No, no, that was impossible! He couldn't have been plucked out of the TARDIS, not anymore, probably... No, he must have come here on his own and found lodging. And a new wardrobe, judging by the shirt and trousers he was wearing. Blending into the local colour... It had been centuries since he'd last done that!
Or maybe they were just jimjams. They were rather comfortable
( ... )
"You're at Landel's Institute, Mr. Smith," the nurse reminded him sweetly. "Now, if you're ready to go, it's a nice day outside. I'm sure the fresh air will do you good!"
The Doctor hadn't heard of this "Landel's Institute," before, but he didn't know everything. Maybe it was new, or maybe it was the problem. After all, he still couldn't be sure if he'd been plucked from the TARDIS or had simply checked himself in.
"And the date?" he prompted. "How did I get here? Did I check myself in, or did--"
"Mr. Smith," the nurse said, holding up a hand to cut him off. "There will be time for questions later, but right now, it's time to go to the courtyard. Or, if that doesn't sound to your liking, the Sun Room is also available."
"But the date--!!" the Doctor insisted one last time, taking a step towards the nurse. He need to know when he was
( ... )
It was dark. Well, that's because he didn't want to open his eyes. It might've been because he was tired, or just too lazy. Either way, he had this feeling that maybe, for whatever reason, he should just roll over and go back to sleep for a while. Back into blissful unconsciousness where he didn't have to think, or figure out why this obviously was not his bed, or accept that his guns were not under his pillow like they ought to be. And so, Dante decided to wake up.
Yes, his guns were missing.
Yes, this was not Devil May Cry.
"Oh, what..." he said quietly, sitting up. He scratched at his neck. He felt weird; needed a shower to think some stuff over. Lady would be pissed if he skipped work again so he should probably get something done tod--
"... What in the hell?" He said loudly as he opened his closet. Grey. Nothing but an ocean of the drabbest, ugliest grey clothes. No brilliant flash of ruby; no sign of his coat. He swore then, even louder. Wherever this was, his coat had not followed. However, though he couldn't remember
( ... )
Honestly! The nurse knew some patients were more violent than others, but how many were going to throw fits like this today? The woman sighed, nodding at the two burly orderlies that flanked her as she opened the door.
"Mr. Smith!" Hands on her hips, the woman gave the angry, screaming man a stern look. "I know the transition can be harsh, but this sort of behavior will not be tolerated! Now you will calm down, or we'll be forced to take action."
The woman had little doubt that her words would work, but she was required to give a warning. Considering the mess, it seemed little better than talking to a brick wall, and she nodded to the men with her, the two moving into position to physically restrain him if need be.
Dante paused when he was about to yell something else, and the door swung wide open like the welcoming invitation of freedom. Only it wasn't Freedom.
It was some bitch in a uniform, and two (disturbingly bulky) thugs who followed her in and stood nearby. It was obvious that brute force would be the most interesting route, since he was pretty sure he could take these guys down.
He almost made that decision until he noticed his hand bleeding. --No, perhaps knocking sense into these people was not wise. Not until he knew what the fuck was going on. He was wearing grey pants. He had ignored the ugly shirt. Before he answered the woman's declaration, he grabbed a grey coat and tossed it dramatically around himself, shifting it a little. Comfy. Lame, but nicer than going half naked.
"Listen, maam. I don't know who you think 'Mr Smith' is, but you got a mistake her. So if you could just escort me to my equipment and direct me to the exit... we'd have a great little understanding." He made a few dismissive hand gestures as he spoke. "You
( ... )
Wesson was right to say that the nurse didn't care what Dante wanted. She knew what he needed, and that didn't involve indulging an imaginary life created by a broken mind. "You are Mr. Smith. Wesson Smith, brought here by your loved ones because you had become a danger to yourself and others." And she could certainly see why.
"You will be staying in Landel's until you've recovered, I'm afraid. Now, if you will put on your shirt, we'll take you to your first activity of the day." She tried to smile then, to hopefully calm Dante down. "After we bandage your hand."
Tony Stark jerked awake with vague recollections of dead eyes and a shattered hall of mirrors dancing in his brain, beneath the crackling pain set off by the burst of adrenaline that had jarred him from what he was pretty damn certain was the worst nightmare he'd had in...well, a couple of days, anyway. He grimaced at the taste of iron in his mouth, and wondered why his room smelled like disinfectant and over-recycled air. His head continued to throb from the sudden rush of blood, courtesy of his elevated pulse, and the rest of his body followed suit with a litany of complaints, most of which he was certain were meant to convince him to lie back down and give it the sleep he'd been neglecting yet again. Dimly, some part of his consciousness voiced a question bred of years of habit and the hangovers born of the particular habits those years had seen practiced: “What the hell did I do last night
( ... )
The nurse standing in the door was not entirely unexpected, and stood as reasonable confirmation that this was, in fact, a hospital. She was older, matronly in a battle-axe sort of way, and looked rather like someone who would be very difficult to sway toward any direction in which she wasn't already headed. Tony wondered if the assignment was deliberate, then decided it almost certainly was. She opened her mouth for what he was certain would be an irritatingly well-meaning admonition to lie down and get some rest. He cut her off, uninterested. "All right, I'll just sign out with you. Where are my clothes
( ... )
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With a sharp breath Donna’s eyes flew wide open and glimpsed the white of the room’s ceiling. The face of the blond woman was gone, the flashes of images from that alternate world as well, and all that was left was white. A shining, blinding kind of white, almost unearthly for how it was glowi--
“Oh my God, I died!” Donna yelped, stunned. She kept still on the bed and continued staring up at the ceiling a moment longer, contemplating what she’d just said herself, before repeating an equally stunned, yet much calmer, “I… died ( ... )
Reply
Oh good, someone who could tell her where that spaceman had gone off to. If he was out having a grand old time without her...! Donna brought her index finger up to start demanding some answers when she stopped. Had she just been called what she think she had? "Excuse me, sorry, not sure I heard you right, but did you just call me McAvoy?"
The nurse gave a pleasant smile and nodded slowly. "Of course dear, that's your name."
Donna's mouth opened while her hands found their way to her hips and her eyes turned up at the ceiling in disbelief. "Well isn't this just, wizard? I'm stuck here again?! Thanks a lot, blondie, I thought everything was supposed to be bloody fixed, but that's just too hard, isn't it?! First four miles away and then cyberspace again"Mrs. McAvoy, please, just calm down ( ... )
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The Doctor was awake. He had woken up, which was funny, because he didn't remember going to sleep. He didn't remember much, actually, after leaving Donna with her family. He'd gone back to the TARDIS, and then… what? He must've travelled somewhere and then dozed off, because this room certainly wasn't in the TARDIS, even if the white décor was a bit nostalgic. But to not remember the journey... It was peculiar (to say the least), unless he'd been spirited away out of the TARDIS by some outside force.
"What?"
No, no, that was impossible! He couldn't have been plucked out of the TARDIS, not anymore, probably... No, he must have come here on his own and found lodging. And a new wardrobe, judging by the shirt and trousers he was wearing. Blending into the local colour... It had been centuries since he'd last done that!
Or maybe they were just jimjams. They were rather comfortable ( ... )
Reply
The Doctor hadn't heard of this "Landel's Institute," before, but he didn't know everything. Maybe it was new, or maybe it was the problem. After all, he still couldn't be sure if he'd been plucked from the TARDIS or had simply checked himself in.
"And the date?" he prompted. "How did I get here? Did I check myself in, or did--"
"Mr. Smith," the nurse said, holding up a hand to cut him off. "There will be time for questions later, but right now, it's time to go to the courtyard. Or, if that doesn't sound to your liking, the Sun Room is also available."
"But the date--!!" the Doctor insisted one last time, taking a step towards the nurse. He need to know when he was ( ... )
Reply
Yes, his guns were missing.
Yes, this was not Devil May Cry.
"Oh, what..." he said quietly, sitting up. He scratched at his neck. He felt weird; needed a shower to think some stuff over. Lady would be pissed if he skipped work again so he should probably get something done tod--
"... What in the hell?" He said loudly as he opened his closet. Grey. Nothing but an ocean of the drabbest, ugliest grey clothes. No brilliant flash of ruby; no sign of his coat. He swore then, even louder. Wherever this was, his coat had not followed. However, though he couldn't remember ( ... )
Reply
"Mr. Smith!" Hands on her hips, the woman gave the angry, screaming man a stern look. "I know the transition can be harsh, but this sort of behavior will not be tolerated! Now you will calm down, or we'll be forced to take action."
The woman had little doubt that her words would work, but she was required to give a warning. Considering the mess, it seemed little better than talking to a brick wall, and she nodded to the men with her, the two moving into position to physically restrain him if need be.
Reply
It was some bitch in a uniform, and two (disturbingly bulky) thugs who followed her in and stood nearby. It was obvious that brute force would be the most interesting route, since he was pretty sure he could take these guys down.
He almost made that decision until he noticed his hand bleeding. --No, perhaps knocking sense into these people was not wise. Not until he knew what the fuck was going on. He was wearing grey pants. He had ignored the ugly shirt. Before he answered the woman's declaration, he grabbed a grey coat and tossed it dramatically around himself, shifting it a little. Comfy. Lame, but nicer than going half naked.
"Listen, maam. I don't know who you think 'Mr Smith' is, but you got a mistake her. So if you could just escort me to my equipment and direct me to the exit... we'd have a great little understanding." He made a few dismissive hand gestures as he spoke. "You ( ... )
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"You will be staying in Landel's until you've recovered, I'm afraid. Now, if you will put on your shirt, we'll take you to your first activity of the day." She tried to smile then, to hopefully calm Dante down. "After we bandage your hand."
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