Scar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
envy_the_sinners) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2012-07-19 01:40 am
envy_the_sinners) wrote in damned_institute2012-07-19 01:40 am
DAY 65: Breakfast
Scar came to slowly, vision blurred and head throbbing. His memory of the previous night was vague and somewhat scattered. What he was most aware of was his renewed and increased hatred for the man called Lingormr. The Ishbalan didn't give a damn if he had been a special counseling patient. That bastard had enjoyed every second of tearing Scar to shreds. What he may or may not have realized was how much it had affected Scar emotionally. He had felt a renewed sense of drive at the start of the night; the disruption on the intercom and the news of the 'cure' had rekindled a fire that fueled Scar to drive forward. To have a little hope.
Lingormr had promptly crushed that.
He was in pain. So much pain. The cut on his hand was only fading scab at this point, but stitches now pulled at the deep gashes in his legs and back. Not only had the nausea not settled, but his stomach was beginning to cramp. The rash on his arm was impossible to hide without the old bandages covering it. It had nearly reached his elbow.
Scar's hazy eyes could make out the nurse, now pushing a wheelchair up to his bedside. This was humiliating. And he was too exhausted and hurting to lash out or become angry. He was just broken. He still tried to take some sort of grudging control, insisting that he didn't need to be pushed around, that he could at least turn the wheels of the damned chair himself. But he didn't make it down the hallway before the pulling and sharp pain in his back became so obvious on his face that the nurse took over.
He entered breakfast with a frustrated, tired, but overall defeated look to him. Scar felt too sick to eat. He sat at the table and brooded, wishing more than anything to simply be left alone.
[For Goku!]
Lingormr had promptly crushed that.
He was in pain. So much pain. The cut on his hand was only fading scab at this point, but stitches now pulled at the deep gashes in his legs and back. Not only had the nausea not settled, but his stomach was beginning to cramp. The rash on his arm was impossible to hide without the old bandages covering it. It had nearly reached his elbow.
Scar's hazy eyes could make out the nurse, now pushing a wheelchair up to his bedside. This was humiliating. And he was too exhausted and hurting to lash out or become angry. He was just broken. He still tried to take some sort of grudging control, insisting that he didn't need to be pushed around, that he could at least turn the wheels of the damned chair himself. But he didn't make it down the hallway before the pulling and sharp pain in his back became so obvious on his face that the nurse took over.
He entered breakfast with a frustrated, tired, but overall defeated look to him. Scar felt too sick to eat. He sat at the table and brooded, wishing more than anything to simply be left alone.
[For Goku!]
no subject
But even though they hadn't completely wasted their time, he couldn't get much happiness out of it. To be honest, he hadn't wanted to find anything in that man's stomach. It had been much easier to deal with these symptoms back when he'd wondered if this was some prank from Landel, or if they were just a figment of his imagination.
The wet crunch of the woman being devoured by that monster still haunted him. He wondered who that had been, if she'd had any friends. He wondered what became of the monster, if they were locked up with the rest of Landel's creatures like some kind of animal, if they were frightened and alone...
Though French toast could have a rejuvenating effect for Claude, he didn't have much of an appetite for it. For one thing, his stomach hurt. For another, he was getting sick and tired of the stupid rash spreading across his arm. And if that wasn't enough to throw his appetite off, he was pretty sure he was starting to run a fever.
He felt gross, which compounded his depression.
But now wasn't the time to mope around and wallow in self pity. Claude gazed across the cafeteria as he took a seat, realizing that several of the patients here were probably going through something similar. Worse yet, most of them likely didn't know that bastard Landel may have implanted something inside of them without their knowledge.
When he thought about it that way, he very nearly started trembling with rage.
Yeah, forget breakfast. He had bigger fish to fry -- like finding Anise and figuring out how she was doing.
[For Anise.]
no subject
Walking in a sort of half-daze, she made her way to the Cafeteria. She didn't feel much like eating, but Anise still picked up some french toast with fruit from the counter.
She saw that Claude and Guy were already seated, though Guy was talking with someone else. Without really thinking much, Anise started towards Claude. It was probably going to be easiest to be around someone who already knew she was sick - getting into that conversation wasn't something she wanted to do first thing in the morning.
The seat across from him was open, so Anise set her tray down, sank into the seat, and seemed to realize belatedly that she didn't even greet him. "... 'Morning," she offered, her voice quiet and a bit uncertain. It took a few moments before she lifted her gaze to look him in the eyes. There was a lot to talk about, but she wasn't sure where to start. "Um... How are you feeling?"
no subject
"Well, I'm alive, so there's that," he answered, doing his best to focus on the bright side of things. Still, his smile faded a little as he looked down at his untouched plate of food. "Kind of hard to think about eating with, well...you know."
Focusing his gaze on Anise again, Claude watched her closely. "What about you?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
no subject
She looked down at her food with a small sigh. Like Claude, she couldn't quite bring herself to actually eat it. For now, she supposed she'd just ignore it, and maybe her appetite would come back before the shift was over.
"Anyway, um... I guess we can't do much until tonight, but maybe we should come up with a plan ahead of time," she suggested. They didn't know how much time they had left, so whatever they were going to do, they had to be ready to act as soon as they could.
no subject
That was why the news about Anise's stomach troubled him, and it showed in the way he furrowed his eyebrows. "Mine hurts too," he admitted. "I thought maybe it was just my imagination after what we saw last night, but..."
Hearing his friend was dealing with it too made him think twice about that. He wondered if other people on the bulletin board would be willing to say if they were experiencing the same symptoms.
Either way, Anise was right that they should start thinking about the future. "I don't know if we want to try to X-ray ourselves tonight to verify whether we've got...something like what we saw last night going on with us, too," he said slowly. "We might not have time to mess with stuff like that. On the other hand, I don't want to do anything hasty just because we're afraid and don't have all the facts."
no subject
"By 'anything hasty,' you mean like... surgery?" she asked cautiously, furrowing her brow. Anise wanted to be sure they were on the same page, but that definitely seemed to be where this was going. How else were they going to get rid of whatever was inside them?
Even if it was hasty, Anise was still more worried about their time limit. How long until they wound up like that creature from last night? Maybe they couldn't be certain about how to act, but they had enough to go off of that it could be worth the risk. Then again, she wasn't sure exactly how risky it would be...
"Do you know any doctors here?" she asked after a moment. "I mean, besides the ones working for the Head Doctor."
no subject
As for doctors on their side, Claude couldn't think of any off hand. He frowned in frustration. "Maybe we could ask around," he sighed. "Even if we find someone, though, I don't want to just...jump to surgery or whatever."
That sounded like such an easy way make things worse. For all they knew, that was exactly what Martin Landel wanted them to do. It sounded morbid enough, at any rate.
no subject
"I guess you have a point..." she admitted, slumping a little in her seat. "What else can we try, though? I mean... tonight could be our last chance." It was morbid, but it was true, especially if other patients had already transformed. Maybe there was another way to cure themselves, but they didn't have much time to go looking for one.
Now, more than ever, Anise wished the Colonel was still with them. He would have had the whole thing figured out yesterday - maybe even sooner. They wouldn't be stuck wracking their brains over uncertainties like this.