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damned_institute2011-03-09 12:03 pm
tightsofmight) wrote in damned_institute2011-03-09 12:03 pm
Entry tags:
- aidou,
- alaric,
- albedo,
- anise,
- ax,
- badd,
- battler,
- bella,
- brainiac 5,
- byrne,
- canada,
- claire bennet,
- claire littleton,
- claire stanfield,
- claude,
- damon,
- dean winchester,
- dexter,
- edgar,
- edward cullen,
- erika,
- firo,
- franziska,
- goku (dragonball),
- gren,
- gumshoe,
- guy,
- guybrush,
- ilia,
- japan,
- kairi,
- kaworu,
- kenshin,
- kibitoshin,
- kinomoto sakura,
- kirk,
- klavier,
- kratos,
- l,
- lana skye,
- leela,
- lightning,
- lion,
- lunge,
- matt,
- maya,
- mccoy,
- mele,
- mello,
- minato,
- nigredo,
- peter parker,
- peter petrelli,
- prussia,
- rapunzel,
- renamon,
- rita,
- ritsuka,
- roxas,
- ruby,
- s.t.,
- sam winchester,
- sasuke,
- scott pilgrim,
- shinji,
- snow,
- sora,
- soren,
- spock,
- stefan,
- sync,
- taura,
- the doctor,
- the flash,
- the scarecrow,
- tsubaki,
- two-face,
- venom,
- yue,
- zack,
- zevran
Day 55: Cafeteria
A night spent inside his room had done nothing to ease his jitters. Peter couldn't stop worrying. Over Brainy, what he thought of him now that he knew about what he'd done to Grell, and where he was going for the night. If he'd be safe. If Indy and the others would be safe, trucking on down to the basement. (Not frigging likely, considering 'basement' was synonymous for 'giant ass doom pit'.) If that ominous intercom announcement had meant anything. Peter had spent hours staring into the dark after that, his stomach churning his supper into butter over the horrific possibilities. Whatever punishment that arose for the food fight was a mystery. It didn't seem to infect him, unless it was a particularly trying case of insomnia. No matter how badly Peter tried, he couldn't find the will to sleep. Much of the night had been spent making notations and doodles in his journal by flashlight, peppered with long stretches of staring at the dark.
Honestly, he'd rather be taking another crack at the Hall of Hallucinations instead of rolling around in his bed. Paranoia was his only company the whole night.
Morning felt like a blessing by the time it came. He wasn't sure when sleep had finally overtaken him, but as he blinked his way into life he couldn't help feeling a bit...off.
It was really quiet. Peter's face scrunched under the light, and he stretched underneath the covers. There was a zip of cotton on cotton, and his shirt half dragged itself out from under the belt.
His eyes shot open. Belt? The covers flipped back, and Peter gaped down at his form on the bed. ...Belt?!
What the frigging hell was this? Peter jolted to his feet, patting himself down. He looked like some kind of air cadet. There were freaking epaulettes on his shoulders (was that even what they were called?), boots on his feet and a beret on the dresser. A single pin was nestled into the front, looking freshly polished as it glinted in the light. Peter snatched the hat up and stared. Two letters were inscribed on the pin. Nothing more, nothing less.
"SC..."
Special Counseling? Peter's expression took a turn for the frantic. What else could it stand for? He tried to run through a few candidates, but nothing stuck. Nothing applied so neatly without being ridiculous, because it clearly didn't stand for Super Cuckoo or Spider Cadet. Was he supposed to wear this like some stupid badge of honour? God, just brand it across his forehead, why don't you? My name is Peter Parker and I totally snapped a guy's arm for Mother Landel's. Hail the Smiley!
Peter pressed the beret against his face and groaned into the fabric. This was it. They weren't playing games anymore. They were finally turning this into death match boot camp and sending them off to war. Shit. Shit he was going to be in the frigging army in some messed up alternate universe, and he didn't even know what the frick they were fighting against or why they were fighting. If they were pulling magical whatsits out of every book and TV show known to man, then who knew what wacky threat they were up against. Aliens? If it was aliens, he was quitting. He was going to curl up on the ground hugging a grenade and pull the pin. Just no. No. This was not happening. This could not be frigging happening.
Except that it was. The person who whipped open the door that morning wasn't the affably sour Nurse Rachel, but a hulking, thickly built man who looked like he consumed a toddler a meal solely to fuel his pecs. Peter couldn't even find the breath to argue as he was told to tuck in his shirt and put on his boots and come to the cafeteria. He left just as another soldier brushed past them to collect Brainy, and Peter abruptly realized that in his confusion he'd forgotten to check if the boy was okay.
Too late for that now. Peter tried to match pace with the burly man, fumbling to put his snazzy new beret on and watching with wary eyes as other patients were dragged by. Things seemed even bleaker as they hit the cafeteria. The buffet was empty. The scent of food was lacking. Soldiers packed along the borders of the room so neatly you would think they were part of a particularly tacky wall paper. And worst of all? Buckets. Mops and rags and brooms, all piled in the center of the room.
The lady officer's speech was entirely unnecessary at that point. Peter withered where he stood as she told them their duty. It was like a scolding from Aunt May, if someone gave her a gun and a license to use it. Except the joke only made things worse - now he just wanted his Aunt. The force of his loneliness bowled him over like a wrecking ball. He might never see Aunt May again. Peter's gaze fell to the floor and he clenched his fists.
Was this it? Was his life really over? Escape never seemed so far away.
There was no protest from him as they were sent to work. Ashen and queasy, Peter stumbled towards the cleaning supplies and selected a bucket and a rag. He couldn't even bemoan his lack of breakfast. His nerves were making it impossible to even think about food.
They needed to get out tonight. Everyone. Somehow...
[Lion!]
no subject
Huh. Different clothing? She tried not to think about how it'd gotten there and why they couldn't just let the patients dress themselves, no matter whatever it was they'd decided to make them wear this time? Some of her outfits back home had tighter collars, but not many that buttoned up like this. Not that it mattered so much, it was just kind of strange after the lazy pajama style they'd been wearing for the last couple weeks.
As much as she would like to complain that last night was horrible, awful, and a waste of time... it actually hadn't been half bad. Despite her terrible luck they'd gotten to the basement, accomplished their goal, and she'd spent the majority of the evening only inches away from Sasuke. Even if she did sprain her ankle, that was a pretty good night.
What did bother her though, was the fact that everything; her weapons, her old clothes, the items she'd gotten from Renamon, it was all gone. She threw off the blankets, checked all her usual hiding spots, but no matter where she looked, it was all gone. Apparently along with this no-nonsense uniform, they were going to have a much tighter no-nonsense policy. Well that was just fine. All she needed was her fists to kick their asses anyway!
It wasn't long before her nurse showed up. Only it wasn't the nurse this time. It was more of the soldiers in black. While she didn't like things before, she regretted not being more proactive in seeking solutions while the rules were still fairly loose. She crossed her arms and sent the one who'd come to escort her an icy glare.
"Get your hat and tags on," the woman told her stiffly.
Tags? She picked up the the necklace the soldier pointed at and put it on, but didn't get much further than reading the name on the inscription before she let it fall to her chest. Courtney Marsh?! Ugh, again with that. The hat was no better. She wasn't even sure which end was the front and she didn't like the idea of having nasty hat-hair at the end of the day when they only let them shower twice a week! It was disgusting!
The woman wasn't budging though, and as much as Sakura wanted to make her eat said hat one wooly fiber at a time, she was much more interested in finding out if her friends and teammates had been subjected to the same treatment and whether or not they were alright. She tucked the hat onto her head, trying, at least, for some semblance of style. But as her escort led her through the Sun Room and to the cafeteria, there was no stopping to check the bulletins or make plans, there was just the cafeteria.
And to top it all off, there was... whatever this ridiculous mess was. She was forced to stand and watch as the others cleaned? Half of them were probably glaring, but at the moment, she just couldn't make herself care. She crossed her arms angrily over her chest and was shoved along until she reached a familiar face. It was harder to tell now, who was who or whether or not her friends were all here, but that was Kurt, wasn't it? Okay, so maybe she felt a little bit guilty about yesterday.
"Hey..." she said, voice somewhat quieter and more subdued than usual. "Sorry you guys have to- I wasn't throwing anything like the rest, but..."
no subject
His focus on the grease spot allowed Sakura to sneak up on him without Kurt really noticing. He was mad at the punishment and mad at the spot, which took most of his focus away. So he was a little surprised when he realized she was talking to him, despite it looking like she couldn't help.
But he really couldn't be mad at her. Even if he had been asleep, everyone had been rebelling against Landel, right? If he got punished for it, well... that was how it went.
"Hey, it's okay," Kurt said, smiling weakly. "You were just doing what you thought was right, yeah?"
He scooted a little closer to Sakura, miming as though he had to clean a part of the wall closer to her. "But do you know what's going on? What happened? I heard something going down so I just stayed in my room."
no subject
Screw this! If Kakashi-sensei had taught them nothing else, it was that friendship and teamwork were a hell of a lot more important than making an example of someone or getting in trouble or whatever else they tried to pull.
"Doesn't mean it's right for the rest of you to pay for it," she returned, though with how closely the guards were eying everyone, it didn't look like she'd be able to get away with much. If she had her chakra, it would be a different story, but...
"Let me help?" she tried, lowering her voice a few levels.
no subject
"I don't know, Sakura," Kurt started, moving the brush over the wall as he talked, but really not paying attention to what he was doing. "These guys, I mean, I've seen guys like this. They won't let us mess with them without a fight. And we don't know what they're capable of yet." Kurt wouldn't say that he didn't think there was anything they could do about the situation, but he was certainly thinking it. He'd 'fight the power' in his high school, but the military? Without the other X-Men, it really wouldn't be a very long fight, he thought.