damned_city | Night 66: Night, Farwell

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Night 66: Night, Farwell

Who: Byrne Faraday
Where: Section 4, Old Courthouse
Summary: The night following his apparent death in the Institute, Byrne wakes up in a place very strange and unfamiliar...

Take heart. You'll be cured of your illness after all.

The last words Byrne Faraday had heard before he'd met his end in that dark Institute hallway. And in a way, those words were true...if 'cured' meant a close range shotgun blast to the body, anyway.

If he'd had even a few more seconds to reflect upon the situation before going under, he most likely would have remembered (beyond the usual 'life flashing before his eyes', and regretful thoughts about Kay) what Badd had told him about Calisto. About how she'd been a liar since the beginning, and that she would have killed Byrne on that day had...well, all of this not happened.

He would have thought about how ironic it all was. Sure, he'd managed to escape his end at Calisto's hands by being sent to Landel's madhouse an hour before he was due to die, but being punished with death for a faulty trust was apparently an inescapable fate. Both deaths were unfair, but at least being betrayed by what should have been a trusted partner was understandable. I got shot to death by a weapon-toting little kid who tricked me into thinking he was scared of something? Yeah, that was certainly something to brag about.

But would-haves and should-haves were pointless now. It was over. He had all the time in the world to think of irony and fate in the afterlife.

...Afterlife...

Speaking of which...where was he?

Byrne's mind was foggy, as if he were waking from a deep sleep; there was a dull ache in the core of his body. Beyond his initial jumbled thoughts, all he knew for certain about his current situation in his first few minutes awake was that, wherever he was, it was cold and he was lying on something flat. Not rock-hard like a floor, but not soft and comfortable like a bed, either. Huh.

After a few more minutes, he struggled to open his eyes.

Unsurprisingly, everything around him was a blur. Sights and sounds made less sense than his thoughts; if there was someone standing nearby, then they were merely a blob in his vision right now. But hey, his eyes were open, his fingers slowly curled into his palms, and that ache in his body slowly became more noticeable. That was progress, at the very least. (But weren't people not supposed to feel pain in the afterlife? Weird.)

Maybe it would all make sense in a moment.

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Even if the man's eyes were open, it was apparent to any observer that he wasn't able to really focus on anything yet. That was understandable, and, in some ways, maybe even for the best. Waking up from a sudden, violent death would be disorienting to anyone. That aside, most people would not expect to wake up in an old, dingy courthouse after said demise. It really was better to take things one step at a time.

Of course, Obi-Wan Kenobi thought "courthouse" was probably too generous of a word, considering the building's state. The former office they were currently in had been gutted of its desk and chairs. Now, it was just part of a sad excuse of a medical area, but the cots that lined the room did their job, at least.

Seated by one such cot, he patiently waited for the newcomer to become more alert. "You've been injured," he quietly told him on the off chance he could process what he was saying. "Take your time, you're safe here."

Well, relatively speaking.

Who...? Byrne blinked a few times, trying to get his eyes to come into focus, and turned his head towards the unfamiliar voice that seemed to be coming from somewhere nearby. Slowly but surely, he began to make out details, one of which was the face that was currently staring at him. The question of 'who' still stood; who was this man? He'd never seen this face before, he was fairly certain.

Not to mention, what was this place? Beyond the stranger, though things still seemed to be a bit off and out of focus, Byrne could see cots and walls looking like they needed repairs. Didn't look like any afterlife he'd ever imagined. But if the stranger was telling the truth, then at least this place was safe, right?

Wherever they were...

Staring wouldn't get him anywhere, though. Speaking would. "Wh--" But before he could finish even one word, the prosecutor couldn't help but let out a dry cough - which he quickly discovered was a bad thing to do, since that caused his dull pain to become intense for a few seconds. Ow. He placed one hand on his abdomen - very, very gently placed it - and tried to speak again. "Where...am I?"

Well, Obi-Wan couldn't fault the man for jostling his wounds despite the warning. He'd likely learn not to move too much soon enough, though. He was, at least, coherent enough to ask him something, so that was a good sign.

"The people here call it Farwell," the Jedi answered. "It was a city, once, but I'm afraid you can hardly call it that now. You're no longer in the institute, though, for what that's worth."

Escape was what most of the patients there dreamed of, but somehow he got the feeling that a lot of people who saw this place would be a bit disappointed about what waited for them.

Farwell? No longer in the Institute?

It took him a moment, as his mind was still somewhat disoriented, but sure enough, Byrne finally began to understand what was really going on here. "So I'm...I'm not dead?" he muttered, his eyes widening a little. How could he not be dead? He'd been...he'd been...

...shot, that's right. Shot by something, a large weapon - a shotgun. Owned by a little kid. In the Institute - Landel - the infection - yes, it was all coming to him more clearly now. His initial assumption that this was the 'afterlife' wasn't so farfetched, then, considering what had happened to him before waking up here. (And that explained why his gut was hurting like this, too. Ow. Though maybe he should be considering himself lucky that he still had a gut...)

But then, if he'd pretty much been killed, how in the world did he get here? Did this stranger have something to do with it? Byrne stared at him questioningly, hoping he would explain further.

"Well, you certainly don't look dead to me," Obi-Wan said with raised eyebrows, and he leaned forward with his hands clasped between his knees. "I can understand your confusion, though."

In any other situation, this man wouldn't have opened his eyes ever again. Where did he even start when trying to explain a mess like this?

"You were already beginning to revive when we found you in the morgue," he continued. "Sometimes that happens to patients who get killed in Landel's Institute, and I suppose you were one of the lucky ones in that regard."

Lucky. Being resurrected by Landel to continue suffering in his Institute was considered lucky. If he weren't in this state of shock (and if the action wouldn't make his injury hurt ten times worse), Byrne would have laughed long and hard at that. Yeah, Landel sure was a kindhearted man, wasn't he? Making it so death itself wasn't an escape route for some. Well, dying would be much better than endlessly being used by him, that sick, twisted, unforgivable son of a--

No, no. Calm down. This wasn't the way to view the situation. Yes, Landel had succeeded in keeping another one of his good little lab rats alive, but he clearly had failed to keep this rat in his cage, hadn't he? Now, thanks to this stranger (maybe?), Byrne could look for answers in the outside world - and not just answers. Maybe Badd and Kay had found their way here, too. He could only hope.

But first thing's first, he needed to get some information from this man. Guarding his injury would be his next biggest priority. (And was it just him, or did his vision seem a little...off? Oh, well. He'd question that later.) "So...you got me out of there?" the prosecutor asked first, continuing to stare at the man. Whether the answer was yes or no, it led to another important question: "Who are you, anyway?"

Edited 2012-10-14 14:59 (UTC)

"Well, technically, someone else did," he admitted. "You'll likely meet someone from the group soon enough."

There were reasons why he hadn't gone back to the Institute since his escape. Still, he hoped he could convince whoever they found to help them deliver some much-needed supplies to those who were still trapped inside.

"My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi," he added in response to the second question. "Like you, I was originally brought to this world by Martin Landel."

'Obi-Wan Kenobi'? ...Well, Byrne couldn't say it was the weirdest name he'd ever heard - not after some of the names he'd heard in the Institute, anyway, 'Renamon' and 'Depth Charge' being notable examples. (Then again, he was learning not to be surprised by much around here.) His bets were on Mr. Kenobi being from somewhere other than Earth, especially when the man mentioned that he, too, used to be a patient of Landel. It seemed that the people Byrne met here that he didn't recognize from home tended to be from some other, previously unheard of place.

But now wasn't the time to ask Mr. Kenobi about his origins. There was something else the man mentioned that was much more curious. "The...'group'?" What group? Was Mr. Kenobi talking about the rebels, perhaps? If so, then that would be incredibly fortunate, to end up in the place where they were all hiding out. If not, then that was still okay - and more interesting, in a way. Maybe it was a group of escaped patients? That would be just as fortunate to end up with.

The man acted like he'd never heard of him, which, considering how long ago he'd vanished from Landel's, wasn't all that surprising. Obi-Wan moved on and addressed the man's question.

"Yes," Obi-Wan patiently replied. "Occasionally, people from the rebel faction infiltrate the institute's grounds, and that was what happened tonight. As you know, a lot has happened lately."

Although he didn't want to grill him with too many questions, there was one thing Obi-Wan figured he ought to ask. "By the way, what's your name?"

So it was the infamous rebel group after all. Consider Byrne's curiosity majorly piqued, then. He'd been quite interested in seeing for himself what the rebels were all about, especially since they were often heard but never seen except by a few; now he finally had the chance to speak to them in a place that was (hopefully) far from Landel's hellhole.

Wasn't surprising to hear that the rebels had been infiltrating the Institute, but what was a little surprising was that there was at least one escaped patient among the rebel ranks. How many others were there? What it possible that maybe, just maybe...

Ahh, there were so many things he wanted to ask, but he knew he was throwing enough questions at the poor man as it was. It'd be better to stick to the more important ones for now. But first - yeah, introductions on his part might be helpful. "Byrne Faraday," the prosecutor answered. He hesitated for a moment (and not just to try to hold back another cough); then he asked, "Uh, are you...I mean, are we the only former patients here?"

"I'd normally say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm sure you could have just as well done without a bullet wound to the stomach," Obi-Wan dryly said.

All things considered, though, Byrne Faraday was taking all this rather well. Then again, maybe he was just glad to be out of the Institute. Most people would be, even if this place was hardly ideal and not much of an escape at the end of the day.

"There's one other," Obi-Wan answered. "A woman who goes by the name Callisto. She's been here as long as I have, so you may not know of her."

Byrne couldn't help giving a small laugh at that comment (much to his abdomen's displeasure). Yeah, these weren't exactly optimal conditions to meet someone new in, were they? But he was doing his best to try to stay calm despite his confusion and his injury. (Emphasis on try.)

Hey, at least they weren't in the Institute. Anywhere was better than there.

As for the rest, Byrne's reactions were...mixed. To hear that there was only one other escaped patient here besides himself and Mr. Kenobi was quite the optimism sinker, but it wasn't nearly as bad as hearing the particular detail that Mr. Kenobi mentioned next: the third escapee's name. The prosecutor's face turned a little pale just at the sound of it.

"Callisto?" ...Now, hold on a second, Faraday. Whoever said this Callisto was the same Calisto Yew that he knew from Los Angeles? Just because they had the same name didn't mean anything. Ask before you panic. "Callisto who?"

Byrne's reaction wasn't lost to the Jedi. The loss of color in his face could have been attributed to his condition, but it was clear that he recognized the name.

Of course, enough patients came and went that it was more likely that the two weren't related at all. But Landel also had a way with pulling whole groups people who knew each other sometimes. Obi-Wan knew that well enough by now.

"She simply goes by 'Callisto'," Obi-Wan said, somewhat apologetic for not being able to clarify things by name alone. For Byrne's sake, though, he privately hoped the Callisto he was thinking of was someone completely different. If anyone from her world came here, Obi-Wan suspected that it was likely someone unfortunate enough to get on her bad side.

Only went by 'Callisto'? Oh. Oh, great. So there definitely was a possibility that she might be Calisto Yew, then. Just great. Of all the unfortunate circumstances to end up in...

Faraday. Positives. Once again, a first name alone didn't prove anything. There had to be something else. Hair color, origin, a need to laugh uncontrollably - those were what would decide whether or not this was the person he was incredibly not eager to meet again.

And so the questioning continued. "Do you know anything else about her other than that?" Byrne was probably asking these questions with a little more haste now, but oh well. He just really, really did not want it to be her. Not just because of obvious reasons, but also because that would mean she used to be a patient of Landel - and that made everything with her that much more complicated.

Without warning, the door swung open and a second member of the rebel group waltzed in. With a shotgun resting against his shoulder and a curious look on his face, he glanced first to Obi-Wan and then to the newcomer.

"Hey, you're awake," he greeted, and it might be immediately obvious that the voice was a familiar one. Many of the patients might have assumed that Marc had been taken out somewhere along the way, seeing how the radios had been silent for the past few days. But there he stood, in decent health, wearing clothes that were somewhat mismatched and ill-fitting, but still looking well enough.

"Thanks for briefing him," Marc said to Obi-Wan as he drew closer, making sure to swing his shotgun down to hang at his side so that the new patient didn't get nervous. He extended his free hand to the man. "Marc Hill. Nice to meet you."

To be honest, Obi-Wan hadn't really intended to go into details about other patients' personal lives. Before he could open his mouth to reply, however, Marc stepped into the room.

"Certainly," he said in response to the thanks. Briefing newcomers wasn't much of a chore, especially when compared to having clueless patients wandering around a dangerous husk of a city like this one.

Once Marc introduced himself and offered his hand, Obi-Wan waited to see whether Byrne recognized the man -- or, at least, his name.

While Byrne wasn't exactly happy that someone new entering the room stopped Mr. Kenobi from explaining Callisto's background (perfectly timed interruption, of course), just the sound of this particular newcomer's voice was enough to make him push his Callisto-related concerns away for now. Why? Well, wasn't it obvious? It was Marc. The man over the radio that Byrne had heard so much about? Someone who a lot of people in the Institute wanted to see face-to-face, among other (in)famous names? Yeah. Him. He didn't look exactly as Byrne had pictured him, admittedly, but his voice was definitely unmistakable.

"Uh--Byrne Faraday," the prosecutor replied, his surprise slipping into his voice for a moment. He reached forward to take Marc's outstretched hand - and missed at first, touching the side of the man's hand rather than his actual hand. Wow, that was embarrassing. Why did that happen? Sure, his vision felt off, and maybe that 'offness' was due to his depth perception being screwy or something, but...

N-no, let's not worry about this now. Not with Marc standing right in front of you. Try to play off that mistake like nothing happened.

"So this is where you've all been hiding out?" Initiating meaningful conversation - yes, that's good.

Byrne Faraday. It was a good a name as any, although Marc had of course known about the patient prior to him waking up here. They didn't like to sneak into the institute empty-handed, so they'd done as much research on the man as they could prior to going to rescue him from the morgue.

Of course, Marc himself hadn't been a part of that rescue mission, as it was too dangerous, but he'd overseen as much of it as he could.

"That's right. It's about the safest place for us to be right now, while still letting us keep an eye on the institute," he said. He'd noticed the way that Byrne had missed his hand at first and didn't like what it implied, but decided to leave that alone for now.

"Sorry for grabbing you without your permission, and sorry that we couldn't patch you up better, but... if you want to live out here, there are a few sacrifices you've gotta make." Marc thought it was worth it, if only to no longer be under Landel's jurisdiction, but it was up to the patient himself on what he wanted to do from here.

Obi-Wan, too, noticed how Byrne missed Marc's hand at first. That wasn't good, but hopefully it wouldn't get any worse. They were already keeping an eye on him, although taking note of any other abnormalities would probably be best.

"You should know that we don't necessarily expect you to stay here, either," Obi-Wan added in case Byrne feared they'd dragged him out here without adequate supplies to fully care for a gunshot wound. "If you go back to Landel's Institute, we believe you'll automatically fall in line with the rest of the patients again. We'd also try to send you back with useful supplies for all of you to use in that case."

Of course, there was a chance that the man wouldn't be satisfied with either option. Unfortunately, that was all they had for him.

"We can't let you leave the city wall for security reasons, and, to be blunt, the way back to your home isn't out there anyway," he added. "Aside from that, what you choose to do is ultimately up to you."

It's all up to him, huh. Well, first thing's first: Byrne sure as hell wasn't going anywhere like this. And he sure as hell wasn't going to go crawling back to Landel after these people risked their necks to drag him out of there (although Mr. Kenobi's idea of bringing back supplies to the patients was a tempting one). Venturing out of the city on his own was also a non-option thanks to Mr. Kenobi's news that home wouldn't be found out there anyway - not that it was surprising to hear. Like Landel would make it that easy for people to get home once he brought them here, even if they managed to get out of his maze! Bastard.

Guess there was really only one choice to make.

"I..." The prosecutor paused a moment - mostly to hold back a cough as best as he could. (Hey, they hurt.) After taking another few seconds to think it over, he answered, "I want to stay here."

At least for now. After recovering, he could decide what to do next.

It wasn't much of a choice, and Marc knew that, but it was all that they had to offer for the moment. Getting the patients back home was still a work in progress, and he didn't know how much longer it would be. He tried to tell himself that soon enough they'd make that breakthrough, they'd push past Landel's defenses and snatch the technology they needed to send everyone back from under his nose, but...

Well, as he'd thought before, it was a work in progress.

But it sounded like Byrne wanted to stay, and Marc felt relief at hearing that. Not that he would have judged Byrne for wanting to go back, but they needed all the help out here that they could get.

"That's great. Well, not great, but you know what I mean. Anyway, I'm trying to get the radio patched into Landel's frequency still, so hopefully we can give the others an idea of what's going on soon."

Depending on what happened with the monster virus, it was possible more patients would be waking up here, too. But Marc kept that thought to himself.

While they could certainly use some helping hands out here, Obi-Wan privately hoped Byrne would reconsider going back to the Institute sooner rather than later. It was incredibly difficult to bring patients out here, and even harder for patients to come here of their own accord. They needed people to bring supplies back to those still trapped inside as much as they needed manpower in Farwell itself.

Of course, he knew how hypocritical he'd sound if he said that, even though it was true that he'd been helping the patients in his own way by assisting with the more technologically-oriented projects.

"It might be good for the remaining patients to hear your voice over the radio," Obi-Wan added instead. "That is, if you'd be willing."

T-the radio? Byrne blinked at that. Not that he didn't know about the radio broadcasts the rebels would do, but now? And including himself in this particular broadcast?

"I, uh." Did he want to say anything? It might be good to let the people who knew him know he was alive (including the smart little brats who caused this in the first place), but would taunting Landel by letting him know what the rebels managed to do be wise...

Hmm. Well, it wasn't like the rebels had all gotten caught yet, right? They had done plenty of broadcasts before without trouble, as far as Byrne knew. They must know what they're doing with this broadcast, too. And Landel? Forget him. He deserved the taunting.

In fact, the only concern the prosecutor wanted to vocalize had nothing to do with any of that. "Do I have to get up?" he asked, smiling weakly. Because moving around too much would obviously be painful, which was obviously not wanted.

"Oh, it's not something we're doing right this instant," Marc said with a shake of his head. "We're still getting the bugs worked out. But once we do, it might be a good idea. To give them hope."

It was true that the patients wouldn't find a way home if they came out here, but that didn't necessarily mean it was the wrong choice to make. They were all working on that as the ultimate goal, and sometimes you had to take a few detours to get what you wanted. At least, that's how Marc had been looking at it.

"For now, just rest. We'll send someone in to try and clean your wound out some more. We can't have it getting infected." Their supplies were limited, but they'd still carved out a good base here, and Marc sincerely believed that Byrne was in good hands. If they could rescue a few more wayward patients from the institute, then they might really be on their way to cooking with gas, so to speak.

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Night 66: Night, Farwell

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