damned_institute | Day 58: Cafeteria

Anise woke up feeling lucky to be alive. She still felt a bit waterlogged, even though her skin, hair, and clothes were completely dry. During last night's adventures, she'd swallowed a lot of water, and it still felt heavy and disgusting in her stomach. Her arms and legs were tired from treading water. Lying still in her bed, she still kind of felt like she was floating and bobbing in the water.

But she was alive.

Knowing how close she came to death last night, and remembering the lengths her friends had gone to in order to save her, there was no way Anise could let a little discomfort get her down. She had to be at her best today so she wouldn't seem ungrateful to Guy and Claude. On that note, she had to remember to thank them properly, now that she was better able to express herself.

While getting ready, Anise was surprised to actually run into Claude that morning. He came to her room asking for the notebook he stored there (or maybe it was an excuse to see her cute face again), so Anise happily located it and handed it over. She was pretty tired, but the big smile she gave him was genuine. Who wouldn't be happy to see her savior so soon after a dramatic rescue?

After he left, Anise finished re-tying her pigtails into a low position so the military beret would fit on her head, and then she was ready! Even though her stomach wasn't feeling that great, she figured sitting down to a decent meal would help normalize it. And luckily for her, she was among the few who had the privilege of eating such a meal. Anise filled a plate with french toast topped with syrup and fruit, accompanied by small portions of each of the available side dishes.

It looked like she was early, which meant there weren't a lot of people around. That was okay, though. Anise could get a good head start on her meal before any company came around. She sat down at a table by herself and started on her sausage first.

[for Tolten!]

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When Rita pointed out the difficulty level of Leon's notes, Claude silently glanced toward the book beside his tray. He almost wanted to resent the implication that he wasn't sharp enough to glean information from what his friend had written (he wasn't stupid, and he understood many of the principles behind heraldry, after all), but he couldn't call himself an expert on magic. He'd never approached the subject as someone who intended to learn how to cast spells of his own, and it hadn't been his focus in school, either.

But apparently Rita was willing to provide him with a more basic guide, maybe even one that would suit his purposes better. Claude's expression brightened. "Really? Wow, I'd really appreciate that, actually."

When she mentioned a price, though, Claude paused, wondering what it was she meant. Not that he could blame her for wanting something, of course. She'd done such a good job of looking after Leon's notes, and she'd just volunteered to help him. If there was something he could do to help Rita somehow, then Claude was willing to do it.

"Sounds fair," he said with a nod. "Was there something you had in mind?"

Edited 2011-08-22 17:05 (UTC)

Good. Claude was quick to agree to Rita's suggestion of an exchange. Hopefully that wouldn't change once he heard her terms.

"The most valuable thing a scholar can have is knowledge, right? I want to know everything you can tell me about what those doctors did." She wanted to know exactly how a person incapable of magic could be made able to use spells. It would be understandable if Claude didn't fully understand the procedure himself, but there had to be some things he could tell Rita. And in addition to that... "I want to see that crest you mentioned, too."

Rita turned to a blank page in her notebook and tapped the top of the page with her pen, awaiting Claude's answer. If he agreed, she would start writing. If not... well, she would be disappointed, despite the lack of emotion in her expression. Rita really did want to learn as much as possible about heraldry, and about the capabilities of the institute's doctors.

Upon hearing what Rita wanted in return, Claude's expression grew more somber. He knew he should have expected something like that, but the request still made him more anxious than he would have liked to admit. His "sleep study" was a deeply personal thing. Most of the time he didn't even bother sharing it, although he supposed one of the pins on his beret already marked him as one of the doctor's guinea pigs. Regardless, he didn't like going into the ugly details.

But if that's what Rita wanted in return for her help, Claude figured he'd be stupid to say no. Some Federation officers might have balked at the idea of sharing that sort of information with her, but rules like that didn't mean much when they were all stranded here with so few resources at their disposal.

"Um...all right," he agreed. "I can't show you my crest without rolling up my sleeve, so is it okay if we put that off until later?" Hopefully Rita would understand that. Since his hand was broken, it made it difficult to do something like that discreetly. Besides, he didn't exactly want to draw the soldiers' attention, nor did he want to get slapped with a stupid dress code violation.

"In the meantime, though," Claude quietly added, "I'll...tell you what I know about the experiment. They didn't exactly explain the logistics of what they were doing, though, so I don't know how useful it'll be to you."

As expected, Claude seemed uncomfortable with Rita's request. She knew she was asking him to describe something he'd rather forget... but she wasn't going to back down on that. Rita needed all the information she could get her hands on.

The military uniform was kind of a problem. While Rita was dying to see that crest for herself, she couldn't insist on something that simply couldn't be done. "I guess there's no choice, so... all right. We'll leave that for another day."

Since he'd agreed, Rita's pen began to move, and she started writing the promised explanation. "I'm listening," she told Claude, though it may have looked like she wasn't. Her eyes were on her writing, though her ears were focused on what Claude was about to tell her.

Day 58: Cafeteria

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