Asylum Director's Log
The work proceeds smoothly, as always, though troubled by a few unfortunate incidents. Doctor Accoleius Proreis was unfortunately apparently abusing his position to conduct unethical experiments on the effects of poison upon mental health, and regrettably died in a struggle with poor Ysambart, an experienced member of our security team here at the asylum. Ysambart was wounded by a poisoned scalpel, and it seems there was some miscommunication with the scheduling of the medical team, no one being on hand to treat him. A terrible turn of events, leaving me no choice but to fire the lead medical Doctor for allowing this to happen.
Of course, there is a silver lining to every cloud, and despite this incident, the reputation of our great institution continues to attract the finest of staff to our halls. I believe great progress has been made with the patient Robert Emery, who has been much less prone to violent outbursts in even the short time I have been treating him. I fear that the methods of the previous director were flawed, but this is of course no aspersion against her. Science ever marches on.
Today, I will be busy interviewing new applicants and deciding upon promotions to fill the empty positions left by that terrible incident. A director's work is never done, after all. Tomorrow, however...
My schedule is quite free, by some quirk of fate, and I believe dealing with any emergencies that may come up without me will be a good test for the new staff. I have assigned several Doctors and members of security staff to take notes on their performance, of course, to ensure the test is conducted rigorously. I believe I will spend the day with Warden Liera Rossignol. We have long enjoyed our talks together, brief as they must be, and I am ever a faithful servant of our Guardian in the Mists, despite the relative unpopularity of religion in general among most of our staff. When one is perhaps the only consistent attendee of Fifth Day services, it is natural to end up quite friendly with the Warden.
I quite look forwards to sitting down with the Warden and discussing matters of theology. Perhaps we will even take lunch together? We will see how it goes. I would be terribly upset if something happened to ruin this rare opportunity.
In other news...
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Lyra Doveheart set down the quill, gaze turning away from the logbook to study the ceiling with a deep sigh. Boring. So boring. Every twist and turn, every little plot, it was so dull. She could see the script written out in advance. Every action and step was meticulously planned, so that the success of her schemes was assured. She had learned from her failures after all, solved the problem of accidental breaks in character, learned who the biggest trouble makers among the staff were, who had to go, who she could reliably recruit through one method or another, and-
Still, still it all kept repeating. Still some circumstance conspired to interfere with the one conversation she actually wanted to be having. She was forced to go to such elaborate lengths just to have a single day spent with her dear Liera. It made her itch, the lack of spontaneity. But if she gave in to what she actually wanted to do, she would inevitably end up repeating it all again, caught by the twisted nature of her prison.
They had hidden the cracks well, in this Asylum of hers. Even her gaze had trouble determining where nature preceded according to the laws of reality, and where things twisted, to reveal the meddling of the empty god. In the deepest bowels of her Asylum, her experiments proceeded nonetheless. They could reset this little play every time they wanted, but her knowledge remained. She was sure she could find another crack in the wall. A real one this time. Not something they left to toy with her. She just had to avoid breaking character for as long as possible.
Lyra's gaze turned around her private office. It was not precisely opulent, but it was well appointed, as befitted the Director of a famed institution. Her primary irritation with it was that it was neatly ordered according to the desires of her character, who apparently was well known for her particularities about the arrangement. The little irritations with the order could not be corrected easily without immediately exposing herself and being forced to start over from the beginning once more. It might be a decade before she had slowly changed the arrangement to be something less frustrating.
On her back, her small bat-like wings fluttered and shifted. At least whatever clouded their eyes from truly seeing her real appearance was convenient, if nothing else. Her gaze shifted back to her desk, where she smiled at a letter that lay open on her desk, penned by her dear Liera. That had been new. Even as each repetition grew more and more dull, she still managed to surprise her now and then. Exchanging letters to supplement their regrettably short time to actually speak was quite a good idea, and one she personally wished she had thought of herself.
She checked a pocketwatch. A few more minutes yet before her next appointment. At least this time she was seeing Emery instead of someone more dull. He was always her most interesting patient. After all, his madness was closer to reality than most of the so called sane were. Still, she could not leave early. She had not spent weeks reinforcing the idea that she was punctual and did not approve of interruptions not on her schedule just to ruin it because she was a little impatient.
Maybe she could get some reading done...
With a deep sigh, Lyra settles in to await the next line in her carefully choreographed play. Far too carefully, by her reckoning. Not nearly enough room for improvisation.
