damned_institute | Day 24: Intercom, Dinner

The intercom jingle rang out both inside and outside the institute on speakers loud enough to broadcast clearly across the recreational field.

"It's been a busy day, hasn't it? Well, fortunately for all of us, it's nearly over, and we can all look forward to some rejuvenating shut-eye--that is, after dinner, of course."

The Head Doctor chuckled.

"Supper for tonight is going to consist of individual servings of chicken pot pie, with mashed potatoes and peas as sides. You may ask your nurse about the usual selection of drinks, and... Oh! Some of you might find that you have some new guests in your rooms belonging to... Group 5, I believe...? Please see to it that our new patients spend their first night at Landel's Institute as peacefully as possible!"

He paused, then added:

"Oh, and Nurse Hondor? Could you please report to my office? Thank you."

The intercom clicked off.

[ OOC: Remember how dinner shift works--everyone posts to this post with individual threads for each room. New characters waking up during this shift will do so in their respective threads, though if your roommate's player is unable to play with you during your intro, feel free to work something out so that your roommate is taking a nap or something. XD; ]

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Jack wasn't in the mood to put with anyone else at the moment. His discovery in the sunroom had sent him a clear message- specifically, "no one knows who you are, so you can't count on your healing to save you". It wasn't as if he had possessed his powers long, but they had already saved his skin on several occasions, which had allowed the renegade Fable to be a bit more bold than his past would indicate. Now it appeared his choices were "run away like a little girl" or "die humiliatingly".

Speaking of little girls, Jack had no idea who this "Recluse" was. He toyed with the idea that maybe he was just another little girl or scrawny teen. Afterall, that was all Jack had seen here thus far. And he could handle either of those, right?

Arriving at back at his new room, Jack's face fell. A well built man with a quite prominent scar was already there, eating. Normally, Jack wouldn't have minded the company (at least, at this point of the evening), but this man's presence made something painfully obvious to him: there were plenty of experienced fighters and Jack couldn't rely on the foolish notion that his opponent would be smaller or weaker than he was. Jack groaned.

He should probably introduce himself anyhow, he decided as he sat down to eat, as his silence thus far (not to mention his behavior and swelling hand) was probably a bit awkward. Plus, he didn't need ANOTHER person rubbed the wrong way today. He had to live until his death-fight. "So," he finally ventured after a couple of bites, "Come here often?"

Saïx scarcely paid his roommate any mind when he entered, focusing instead on finishing his meal. He was hardly what one would call a people person, partially due to the fact that he was a Nobody. A part of him instinctively envied those who still has possession of their own hearts. Again, memories of what it was once like to have true emotion playing on his moods. How aggravating.

When the other man finally spoke, Saïx shifted his gaze to regard him with one eyebrow raised at the swollen hand. What sort of question was that? Perhaps he was trying to be funny. Xigbar often utilized a form of humor similar to this.

"Indeed. The food is exquisite." His tone might've been dry were it not so utterly emotionless. Perhaps this brand of humor was not best suited to a Nobody.

'That was enthusiastic,' Jack thought sarcastically. 'I'm so glad we have this time to talk, buddy.'

Still, the man had responded it, be it without a hint of emotion. Jack tried again. "Yeah, no kidding." He stabbed some peas with his fork and held them up. "There's nothing I love more than institutionalized vegetables. They're never fresh, but they do try so hard to convince us otherwise. Mmmm..." He shoveled them into his mouth and grimaced.

It was probably too soon to ask his room mate about his scar.

"You've been institutionalized before?" Saïx wondered innocently, almost amused but not allowing himself a smirk to accompany the barb. It would be a natural reaction, but again...

"We've not met. I suppose introductions would be in order since we'll be sharing this space," he continued, abandoning any attempts at sarcastic banter for something more substantial. Business as usual. "I'm called Saïx."

Institutionalized? No. Arrested and jailed? Far too often. "Not to the same extent," admitted the Fable, "Although I would be lying if I told you being held against my will was a new experience."

Saïx? Jack didn't even want to guess how that was spelled. What name to give this man? It's true he had been running around telling people his name was John Trick all day, but this guy was someone he'd be expected to spend time with and Jack wasn't all that fond of being called "John".

Eh, he could always argue it was a cute nickname or something. "Call me Jack."

"I see." Either a criminal or a prisoner of war, then. Saïx wouldn't find either hard to believe based upon a quick evaluation. He closed his eyes and took another bite of the pot pie without making a face. Nourishment was nourishment.

Jack. A fairly simple name. It would be easy to remember. Though he had no intention of exchanging unnecessary pleasantries with this man, the Nobody assumed it would at least be wise to remain on good terms with his roommate. Allies would be a necessity in escaping this prison. He nodded, opening his yellow eyes and looking his roommate up and down.

"What happened to your hand, Jack?" he asked, attempting conversation.

Jack glanced over at his hand, having forgotten for the moment what the other man was talking about (afterall, he wasn't supposed to keep injuries like this). "Oh, this? I did it to myself. It's no big deal. How about your face, big guy? What's the story there?"

He casually took in what items were scattered about the room. 2 desks, 2 chairs, 2 beds, a dresser, 2 closets... He was going to have to determine what EXACTLY was at his disposal before he ran off to fight. "I don't suppose you know anyone named 'Recluse'?" He wondered, opening the desk drawer and taking note of its contents.

Day 24: Intercom, Dinner

Re: M54

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