Take Responsibility.

[transmittable]

The past several weekends have been an unrelenting barrage of death in particularly disturbing manners; either the method or the number of people, sometimes both, have been particularly extreme. This week has seen fewer dead than the last; however, the way that that one kill seems to have happened... It's not a particularly good tradeoff. Either way, however, expectations still need to be met and investigations still need to be carried out; once the allotted time has passed, those doors in the center of the second corridor slide open once again, the sight managing to be at the same time familiar and unwelcoming. The fluorescent overhead lights of the operating theater beam down, flooding the room with bright and steady light as soon as the first person walks in; the seats surrounding the podium circle in the center of the room remain as empty as ever. Four more are gone, their absence notated by their portraits joining the others in watching the proceedings through greyed-out and unseeing eyes, Kogami, Madison, Sakura Matou, and Osomatsu's podiums all draped in black. Once everyone has found their place in the circle, the public-address system comes to life once again in a light crackle of static; the Transmitter can be heard throughout the room shortly thereafter. "Fraternal is dead. You guys...you know what to do. Put together what you've found and try to seek out the guilty. You know what'll happen if you can't. Good luck." Eleven Patients remain. We'll see how many leave at the end of the day.

Comments

[doctorize]

It's what I tell my patients back home: while things are different here, sure, everyone there is only human after all, so it's something that is often found to be comforting to hear during sessions.

[ossifragant]

And you're saying this to justify yourself to the nonhumans because...?

[doctorize]

I'm not "justifying" anything. I was merely stating something that I've told Miss Sakura before the last time she asked me about my job as a therapist.