| Nov. 8th, 2007 @ 12:01 pm Doctor's Log ... |
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Current Mood:  frustrated
Current Music: Funeral For A Friend :: Red Is The New Black
I'm losing track of how long we've been here. This is a bad thing. I feel like I'm in some bad 70s movie.
The tactics I was using when I first got here are sorta still working, but ... I'm not feeling the humor, lately. Sure, I can feed the Regulator bad jokes, and get a kick out of Tonto starin' blankly at me, but there's only so long that can stay funny. There're only so many times I can walk down that corridor and come back with no answers.
At least he's letting me do something, now. There're a few rooms full of prisoners ... most from the base on Antarctica. A couple of them, I already lost - I got to them too late. Their medic - I refuse to call him a doctor - was apparently "trying to figure out how human anatomy works". God. Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ, it makes my stomach roll just thinkin' about it. When all you get is tofu crap, that's ... yeah. Not thinking about it.
I'm also really, really, really trying not to think about the proverbial deal at the crossroads I made.... I help them, he asks me questions about anatomy. And I answer. So far I've explained the spinal cord, the respiratory system, the psychological need for a regular sleep cycle ...
I'm really trying not to think about the fact that I've very probably not just sold my own soul, but theirs as well. I'm trying to tell myself it's so much better than letting them die. I'm trying to tell myself that soon enough I'll light on something, some little thing that'll click, and I'll come up with an idea, a plan. Something smart. Something to get us out of here.
But ... I'm starting to discover that I only make a good strategist when I have resources. And right now, my only resources are humorless guards, a group of prisoners in worse condition than me with about the same amount of knowledge, a really sweet alien photographer who's too conflicted to really help us any, and GODDAMNIT, a psychic who's lost her mind and cares more about one person than her duty to herself and the people around her, and the goddamn planet.
Mai's getting too concerned with her own little microcosm. She's forgotten where she came from, who she was before they brought her here. I hate the thought, but ... I might have to start considering her on his side, now. He may have already won her. Mai's not consciously fit to make any sort of decisions to get us out of her, or be of any help.
That just leaves Yuki and I. And I don't know how much Yuki will want to help.
Which might just leave me.
Me.
What the fuck have I got? ... I've got tofu and a failing bedside manner.
God, I want to punch something.
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