damned_institute | Day 58: Arts & Crafts (Fourth shift)

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Day 58: Arts & Crafts (Fourth shift)

Firo was glad to see the end of lunch, if only for the fact that in a few more hours, the day would be over. Night was the only time he had any real freedom of movement, and it was the only time he could do something worth doing, instead of just sitting around.

The usual soldier came to fetch him shortly after the announcement, with only a curt, "Come along, Saviano." Firo frowned, but followed him out of the cafeteria into the Sun Room.

He would have been fine with stopping there, but the soldier apparently had other ideas. When Firo stopped, he went so far as to grab hold of his shoulder and roughly steer him into one of the adjoining rooms, ignoring his protests all the while. The new room was full of round tables with various items like colored paper and paint in the middle, and Firo had a sinking feeling about it. What had the activity mentioned in the announcement been? Arts and crafts?

"What am I supposed to do in here?" he spat at the guard.

"Draw a flower. Make a bracelet. I don't care," was the gruff response before the soldier disappeared out the door.

Firo had half a mind to follow him out, but no—he'd wait a few minutes first, just in case he got shoved back into the pointless room. In the meantime, he took a seat at one of the tables, turning his chair towards the door and leaning his head against one arm propped up on the table.

[For Battler]

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Alright, let's get one thing straight: the only reason Gumshoe was here was because his soldier escort had insisted on it, and you could guess what might have happened if he'd refused a second time. According to them, he'd been pacing in front of the bulletin board for too long. (It hadn't helped that he'd apparently been blocking people from it as well.) When a detective took that much interest in something, you didn't tell him to move away from it! It was his job to be wherever a case took him! Why couldn't they respect that!?

...Anyway, it went without saying that today hadn't been very kind to his blood pressure. (And they hadn't even been served dinner yet!) He'd hoped to find them sometime during lunch since, excluding breakfast, it was the only time the entire population gathered in one place. The search became difficult when there were that many people crammed into an area, but lack of time hadn't been an issue.

So how come he hadn't seen them yet? He should have found at least one of them by now! Where could they have gone!?

Gumshoe had been left grumbling near the entrance, and in a few moments he'd started pacing in front of that, too. Several minutes passed before he finally sat down and took things in. He couldn't remember if he'd actually been in the Arts and Crafts room before. Sure, he'd known about it, but knowing and doing were two different things. His gaze didn't soften all that much when he noticed a guy sitting alone (like himself) at the table next to him. Gumshoe wouldn't have paid any attention to him if it weren't for the fact he stuck out so much. Not only was he the palest out of anyone in the room, but he seemed to be struggling with something. Maybe someone had made him mad and he was taking it out on the art supplies. The detective watched the younger man for a few seconds before deciding to find out what the problem was.

"You look like you're having a bit of trouble there, pal," he remarked bluntly from where he sat, nodding at the bottle the guy was holding.

The bottle was still stuck pretty fast when, out of the corner of his ~~distress~~ eye, Kibitoshin noticed someone turning towards him- and commenting. Aha. Hah. Caught in the act. Obviously he shouldn't have been quite so vigorous with his shaking if he hadn't wanted anyone to notice, but that was past the point now.

At least the person in question didn't seem like he was trying to be rude- he was a tall, broad man, with a stubble and an open face, and for a moment Kibitoshin was reminded of a big, scruffy dog. Not the sort of person he'd have thought would try to make fun of him; certainly he was no Franziska or even Fai, though Fai's teasing fell more on the gentle-poking side of things than Franziska's vicious assaults did. She didn't seem to be capable of a gentle anything.

Still, just like in the showers that morning, there was something familiar yet entirely unplaceable about the way this man had addressed him. Had he heard his voice before, too? Or had they spoken before and he'd just managed to forget? Knowing his luck, it was probably going to be the latter and he was about to look terribly insensitive.

"It's fine, really!" he said quickly, laughing a little to cover his self-consciousness. "It should come off eventually. I hope." A pause- and then he held out his hand with an awkward little cough. It wasn't that he couldn't do it himself, of course, but... "Would you... mind giving it a tug for me? Just in case?"

He hadn't meant to put the guy on the spot like that, but he'd kind of been asking for it. Come off? Gumshoe wondered, raising an eyebrow at him. "Huh?" There was a pause, then the man held out the bottle, as if he wanted to give it to him. The detective gave it a blank stare. "Uhh... Thanks, pal, but I don't need that." In his guilt, he found it hard to look the stranger in the eye, so he made himself look at the bottle instead. On closer examination, he noticed a word on it that was partially covered by the guy's fingers. It looked like it said "GLU".

Gumshoe finally connected the dots.

Signs of tired enthusiasm appeared on his face. He knew what a glue bottle looked like! He just wasn't as 'with it' this afternoon as he normally was. He couldn't help it that a chuckle or two got loose as he stood up and walked over to him. "Oh! Ho ho! So that's the problem! I guess they'll be calling you 'Sticky Fingers' from now on, pal." A smirk spread across his face. "Here, let me give you a hand." The detective stopped in front of him and held on to the man's wrist, then grabbed the glue bottle and pulled it free with an almighty tug!

...Well, that was what he'd hoped would happen, anyway. Instead, after a few tries without success, he tried to re-position his fingers and realized he couldn't move them. "..." There was a long pause. "...Look what you've done, pal! Now I'm stuck, too!" he complained loudly, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Kibitoshin's heart sank with the man's first answer- obviously he'd completed failed to make any sense whatsoever with his explanation. Which meant he'd either have to pretend he didn't say anything or ask again, this time explaining the situation more clearly, and galaxy only knew he didn't want to have to do that. He'd been going out of his way to avoid having to explain his own failure in too much detail! The bottle would probably melt off of his hand from the sheer heat of his embarrassment if he had to do that!

Thank the stars that the man seemed only to have been delayed in his understanding rather than entirely derailed, and more than that, he was willing to help. Kibitoshin grinned sheepishly in return, just letting the teasing roll off. It was, after all, rather more mild than he was used to as far as he could tell- he definitely wasn't trying to be spiteful.

"I'm not sure how it happened," he explained as the man took ahold of his wrist and the bottle. "I just picked it up and- oh-!" There went the first tug; Kibitoshin held his breath, wincing a little in anticipation of the glue pulling at his hand-

- and blinked. Nothing. And again, and again. Even less happened when the man tried to take his hand back.

Well.

There was only one possible course of action here: turning bright read.

"I'm sorry!" he managed to get out, "I had no idea it would- ahh, what a mess!" Despairingly, the Kaioshin shook his head. "Maybe Franziska had a point about me not being able to do anything unsupervised."

[Ahh, so sorry for the ridiculously long wait, bb! ;A;]

In his embarrassment, Gumshoe didn't notice right away that Prosecutor von Karma had been mentioned. It took a few more seconds of repeated tugging and grunting before it hit him, and the anger on his face was gone in the blink of an eye.

"Wait, you've met Ms. von Karma?" he said with a bemused frown, looking up at the guy whose face was just as red as his.

And that earned a moment or two of blinking as he forgot to tug, leaving his hand aloft. "Ah... yes. We met on my first day here," Kibitoshin answered uncertainly, unsure of where this was going; it wasn't exactly clear how many friends or even enemies Franziska had around here, but surely the fact that the man was calling her Ms. von Karma meant he respected her?

... okay, bad deduction. Anyone would respect Franziska if they didn't want to end up on the wrong end of her wrath (and notebook).

Still, maybe they really did have a mutual friend and/or keeper. "Wait, so how do you know her?"

"I work for her, pal!" Gumshoe replied incredulously, as if it was obvious. He quickly looked around before leaning closer with a deepening frown. "If you think you've got it bad, think again," he added a little nervously, his voice suddenly reduced to a loud whisper.

The detective sighed after a moment--part relief (she hadn't popped up behind him yet, so he hoped it was safe for now) part exasperation (at being reminded of all the things he was worried about when it came to Ms. von Karma)--and glanced up at the guy again. "Look, why don't we sit down, pal? We need to get this thing off before dinner starts." Or one of us might lose his hand! he thought wildly.

He worked for her?! The Kaioshin's face crumpled into a look of pure, heartfelt sympathy. "N-no kidding!" Goodness. If he needed a break from her, all Kibitoshin had to do was beg his nurse to take him out the room or hide behind a soldier or something; he couldn't even imagine being made to spend time with her constantly. He liked her, after all, but when things got ugly her temper was enough to put the frights into anyone.

At any rate, sitting down again properly was probably a good idea. He quickly settled himself down at Gumshoe's table, resting his hand on the surface between the two of them. It was almost like one of those finger puzzles they had on Earth. That said, even as he picked at the join with his fingernails, there was only one thing on his mind. "You really work for her? Every single day?" he blurted out.

When Gumshoe heard the stranger's question, he gave him an understanding, bordering on sour look. The kind of look that practically gave away his feelings on the subject when he was actually trying to hide them; whether it was out of some form of respect or fear of being found out was hard to say. (Who said it couldn't be both?) He knew he was guilty of complaining about her to his co-workers (including Mr. Wright at times), but there was a difference between licking your wounds and talking trash about your superior, especially when you knew how tough they were having it lately. Fortunately for this guy, the conversation didn't seem to be headed in the latter direction.

Gumshoe sat down and started picking at the glue, too, frowning deeply at it. "Well, before I showed up here, she'd recently left the country." He shot a quick glance back over his shoulder, just to be safe. "So she was gone for two weeks, and they brought me here three weeks before her. But apart from that, she's had me at her beck and call since last June, or around then.

"And to make matters worse, she stuck a tracking device on me!" His free hand slid away from the hardened glue, and he looked up at the younger man. "When you can't use a restroom break to sneak downstairs to the coffee machine, you know you're in big trouble, pal."

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Day 58: Arts & Crafts (Fourth shift)

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