damned_institute | Dayshift 62: Sun Room [Third Shift]

Last night had been a nightmare. That had to be what it was, but Ilia couldn't deny reality. In her anguish, Ilia had slept through the first half of the day plagued by nightmares. In her dreams she saw Rose's broken body all over again with Gamzee standing over her, his club raised to strike again. Somewhere, she could hear Martin Landel laughing.

Much like the battle last night, Ilia was overcome by her powerlessness. Was she really so useless? Why did it have to be the children who suffered pain and death? Why was she left alive here? She didn't wish for her own death, but if she could have given up her life to save Rose... But nothing could be done now

Ilia had failed to save an ally in need. If only her Captain could have been here, then just maybe his uncanny luck and drive might have saved them. He had a miraculous touch that could solve anything. Ilia now understood why she would never be on equal footing with him.

Miserably, Ilia roused herself at her nurse's insistence that she come eat. She didn't take a moment to brush her hair or wash her face. She just followed along as directed, trying to ignore the hallow feeling in her chest. Ilia wasn't hungry, but she took one of the bags offered to her and trudged to the bulletin. She addressed a few notes then added one herself. It wasn't the prettiest note, but Ilia couldn't produce the level of prose that Rose deserved. Instead, she wrote it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. Short. To the point.

Her task done, Ilia found seat in the corner and sunk down into the cushion. Burying her face in her hands, she concentrated on breathing. She couldn't face the sun today.

[For ~~her children~~ Claude and Anise]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Reason to celebrate? Brook always had that, and he wasn't going to keep it to himself. "Well, I'm alive, aren't I? What more reason would I need?" he answered with his brightest of smiles.

"I'm from the West Blue, but it's been a while since I've been there," he provided when he was asked, but then he realized the man might not even know about the world he was from at all, "Oh, though you might not know where that is anyway with how this place is..."

To Badd, who had suffered through many occasions of thinking that being alive was something more to mourn than celebrate, this argument seemed rather hollow. He again bit back the impulse to be pessimistic and grumpy. It wouldn't earn him any friends and it certainly wouldn't earn him any information.

Badd shrugged. West Blue could be just about anything, anywhere, at any time. No personal connection there. "Nope. I'm out of Los Angeles, if that means anything to you."

Brook frowned when the man did not respond beyond a shrug, but did not press him. After his discussion with Renji, he knew well that others had different and personal views on death. If this person had died and was back, he might not have wanted to be.

"Ah... no, it doesn't," he admitted, picking up on the next words spoken, "Though it certainly sounds like it might be a fun place."

"Depends on your definition of fun." Badd paused, as if considering the matter. "Definitely more beer. Beer and getting to walk around at night without worrying about getting eaten. If you're in LA I'd count being alive as something you'd want to drink to." Also lollipops on demand. If there was one reason to appreciate the night it was that he got access to his stash.

A faint smile crossed Badd's face. The discussion was making him nostalgic. Of course where and when he came from Badd was still a convict, but being a free man in LA would be a grand and glorious thing. If he managed to get back and save Byrne he'd live his life with a little more appreciation for what he would have lost.

"Fun is..." he began, only to pause when he realized how difficult that might be to put into words. There was the basic definition, but Brook looked at fun as being something that was the opposite of loneliness. "... well, it's hard to put it into words really, but having beer without something trying to eat you definitely sounds more fitting of fun that the alternative."

"Says a lot about this place that something that small's turned into a luxury." And now they were being depressing again. Badd at least tried to think of something positive. "I was never much of a fun guy anyway. Parties are too loud and tend to involve people I don't actually want to be sharing space with."

Damon Gant came to mind. Very strongly.

"But some beer, maybe a football game or some dumb detective show to watch," he continued, sounding nostalgic. "That'd be nice."

He could agree on not being eaten as being a luxury, but beer? For all the years he'd spent without it, that certainly wasn't a small luxury for the pirate part of him, but then again, neither was being able to leave a room without the threat of dying!

This man must have had some pretty big luxuries in this Las Vegas place. Or, by his words, he didn't get out too often.

"Football game?" Brook repeated, genuinely curious. Games were usually fun, and if there was beer involved then that was all the better. The "detective show" had him much more confused however, so he decided not to ask about that one in case it got to be something too personal again.

"Yeah." Badd sat up a little, wondering what odd place this guy came from that football hadn't been invented. "It's a sport. A game," he said, holding his hands out in front of him. "You have this ball that's kinda oval shaped, and each team tries to get the ball to their side of the field the most times. One of 'em kicks it, and when someone catches it they run as far as they can in the right direction until they're tackled to the ground. And then they start it again until it gets to one end of or the other."

That was the extent of his understanding of football as an enterprise. He admittedly didn't study the game in depth and often had little idea what was going on besides who had the highest number of points. The fun was in the cheering and the booing and the taking of bets.

"Hmmm..." Brook tried to make a mental image of what he was being told, but eventually gave up for the headache he had, "It sounds like fun. I've never been one for sports though, but I do enjoy games from time to time!"

Party games were wonderful with friends, though could get a bit out of hand if there was too much beer involved. Pin the tail on the sea king had always seemed to go awry at some point or another.

Definitely had to be from some backwater time period if he couldn't even get his head around football. Badd didn't begrudge it to him, though, man couldn't help where he was from. "Half the fun's just watching it, though," he said. His scowl was beginning to loosen.

"You get some beer, you get some snacks, you sit around with your friends, and you watch muscle-bound guys in armor chase a little leather-covered ball around like it's the most important thing they'll ever see in their lives. It's just a reason to hang out, is all."

Dayshift 62: Sun Room [Third Shift]

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