OOC | Discord channel | Aurora Grove Staff (NPC) | PC Roster
Soothing classical music plays softly in the background over all loudspeakers in the hospital.
Dr. Lee Roberts, chief administrator
Monday, 11:46 a.m.
The large desk in the executive office portrayed a confidence that Dr. Lee Roberts didn't feel. The whole thing was a literal powderkeg under the wrong circumstances. And the buck stopped squarely at his desk.
There were the usual headaches that came with running a hospital. Money, for starters. The three malpractice lawsuits already this year were looking like expensive out-of-court settlements, or potential even-more-expensive court appearances. The legal team for Aurora Grove had their hands full, as always. And Roberts knew the money could run out. Eventually. Then there were the State Boards and their nosiness. Cramped space and a need for a new wing, without the funds or board approval to get it. The integration of some of the newer patients, for example. Or the slow crawl that Research & Development had regressed to. The slow rate of recovery for many of their patients. The favors he was paying off. The people he was angering. Even those who were supposed to be supporting him. It was too much, sometimes.
But Aurora Grove was not the typical hospital, and not all of the patients they treated were the kinds a normal psych ward had. Under the wrong circumstances, certain patients could level the place and everyone in it. It was a tight balancing act that the Aurora Grove staff had to do. Dr. Roberts was hoping that they would keep balancing, and not come crashing down.
As the chief administrator, he would do what he could to make sure his team was at 100%. Too much was riding on them to do otherwise.
Dr. Feng Xu, Research Director
The middle-aged Chinese man in pressed gray slacks and a red and gray tie on a white shirt beneath a white lab coat tried another algorithm in his formula. The last one hadn't been nearly as effective. Too much nitrate still. Frowning, the Chinese man pressed the 'enter' key on his computer simulator, and ran a hundred more simulations. Still no.
He glanced at the clock, and then back at his screen. He still had a little time to use before he was required to take a lunch break. And today, it wouldn't have mattered. Today, the research was going nowhere fast. He could have gone for his break now. But one thing about Dr. Feng Xu was that he didn't like feeling incompetent. And this aspect of his research was doing just that. He could work through lunch.
Maybe it was the formula that was wrong. Maybe he'd need to start from scratch. Again. So far, it was as if he was hitting his head against a hard wall. Too many unstable variables. Too many changing factors. The ionized cells weren't reacting how they should. What was he missing?
Just then, a shrill yell sounded out through the research lab. Its sound pierced the clinical sterility, as a young chubby woman with red hair woke up and wrestled in vain against the straps that held her down on the bed in the control room. The muzzle that had been put on her was some benefit in drowning out any intelligible words, but the sound of her screams still penetrated the thick leather. That would be some of the Dysproxil taking effect.
Dr. Xu looked over at the young woman, and glared. After all his time working in Research & Development, he had gotten used to screams. He never really liked them, and only considered them the necessary price to pay for what they had discovered so far. But on a day when he was already frazzled, the screams annoyed him more than he had thought possible only half an hour before. So the middle-aged Chinese researcher pressed a few buttons on his computer keyboard, and the sound from the control room was muted. Finally, there was peace.
Frowning, he brought his mind back to the problem at hand, and turning over the numbers in his mind, still couldn't see the solution. What was he missing?
The lunchroom
One by one, the orderlies brought in the various patients and seated them at their assigned tables. When the patients were all relatively good, the orderlies helped bring over the lunches prepared for them.
A younger, African-American man in clinical white, helped bring a patient over to his assigned table. Tyrell Jackson had a quick grin and a warmth about him that even the clinically insane found charming. "So, my man, did you hear the one about the blonde and the puzzle?" And without waiting to hear it, the African-American man launched into the joke. "Ok. So, why was the blonde thrilled to get done with her jigsaw puzzle in only six months? Because the box said it was for two to four years! Ha ha! Tyrell, Tyrell, baby, you just keep crankin' 'em out!"
Another orderly, a tall, mid-20's white man with a military buzzcut, just sighed. "Why do you do that, Tyrell?"
"Ain't no problem, man. See Rex, I think it's great when people like us enjoy our jobs. And Todd here didn't seem to mind."
The patient, Todd, was an older frail man with little comprehension in his eyes. He sat expectantly, waiting for his lunch but seemingly tuning out everything else around him.
Meanwhile, a brunette with long, naturally curly locks and darting eyes was seated at her lunch table, with one hand holding on to her tray that had just been set down. Looking at the salisbury steak in front of her, cut up in bite size pieces and swimming in a brown gravy, the patient now called Belinda pushed the tray in front of her. She drank from the water sparingly, as if it were diluted venom.
Muttering to herself, her eyes glanced around at the security by the doors, as though they could read her mind. And maybe they could! Belinda tried to clear her mind, count to ten silently, and take a deep breath. It seemed to help. If the security officers could read her mind, they'd be rushing over to take her to her padded room. But they weren't even moving towards her. Maybe it was a ruse. Maybe they wanted her to think she was a safe. But she knew. She knew!
Again muttering, Belinda said to those at her table, "Don't eat the food. I'm warning you. Don't eat. Have you noticed people disappearing here? I have. They all ate the food, too. That one black man with the beard, he was here recently. Last week? I... I don't remember... But I knew him. His name was Kevin. And he ate. And now he's not here." Her conversation dropped again into hard to hear mutterings.