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
Loki laughed quietly. "Oh, I've ever been one to desire my own direction in life. But everywhere I turn, there is someone who seeks to manipulate or control me. I am fair sick with it."
He shrugged, considering the point both Soma and the Once-ler made. He could feign innocence of course, but he doubted that would actually buy him anything. After a moment he said, "Confidence and intimidation are weapons as surely as daggers. Though I suppose it's easier to be confident when one hasn't had the marrow sucked completely from him." He nodded to Soma's question. "For battle, yes. My armor is of finer quality than most, but you know I... was... part of a noble house."
no subject
He nodded. “Always having someone trying to control your life… I’d hate that, too.” His own mother had never been outright controlling. Discouraging, yes, but she made no attempt to stop him when he had left home all those years ago. And while she had brought up cutting down trees to increase Thneed production, it had only been a suggestion. The Once-ler had done the rest himself.
“Well, I’ve never even owned daggers or armor or such, but I’m not from any sort of noble house either.” He blinked. “I didn’t know nobility was still something that was taken seriously. I thought we’d left all that knights in shining armor business back in the Middle Ages.”
Something suddenly occurred to the Once-ler. “Hold on, are you from the Middle Ages?” That would explain how something could be back in Lingormr’s time. “I mean, that’s kind of crazy, but if you are, you’ve definitely gotten used to all this,” he moved his hand in a half circle to indicate the room around them, “really quickly.”
The conversation had been going quite well, actually. Up until Soma asked about what he had done before arriving.
“Businessman. Former. I… I don’t really want to talk about it.” He stared at his plate, suddenly incredibly interested in a meal he had lost all appetite for.
Regardless of how civil Lingormr was being compared to the previous night, the Once-ler was not prepared to open up in front of him. Brainwashing or no, the man had stabbed him, and something about revealing his greatest failure to such a person did not sit right with him at all.
no subject
She took another determined bite of her breakfast. "I think that's something we can all agree on. I thought I'd left people trying to control my life behind. Then I arrived here."
Still, she wouldn't exchange those short few months with the lieutenant colonel for anything in the world. And once she was out of here, she could go back to it. She just had to keep focusing on that.
The Once-ler's response to her question, if nothing else, piqued Soma's curiosity, but she didn't need the voice in the back of her head to tell her when that curiosity would be unwelcome. "I understand," she said instead, frowning a little in sympathy. "If it helps, I doubt who you were before makes much difference here."
no subject
He also had begun to get the impression that more modern mortals didn't realize quite how close they were to their ancestors of a few millenia past. From Loki's viewpoint, they really hadn't changed all that much.
He made note of the Once-ler's discomfort about his own past. Interesting, and something to keep in mind for later. For now, he would follow Soma's lead and remain silent on the subject.
She'd said words similar to him as well. Perhaps she was right, though that still remained to be seen. For his own part, he had no intention of letting on the full story of who he was until he had played this game out fully.
no subject
The Once-ler steepled his fingers. “Let me get this straight. So we’ve all been pulled out of our worlds into a different world entirely. I mean,” he waved his hand at Lingormr, “you say you’re a magician, but you can, or at least could last night, do things magicians can only dream of pulling off. Because let me tell you, where I’m from magicians are people who make a living off of pulling bunnies out of hats and tricking kids into thinking that if they shake their brother hard enough money will come flying out of his ears.”
It would definitely take time for him to wrap his head around all this, if it was true.
The Once-ler was immensely grateful that neither Soma nor Lingormr pressed him about his past. While he was curious about their stories as well, it wouldn’t be fair to ask them immediately after refusing to share his own tale. He gave Soma a look of quiet gratitude, and then, after a moment, did the same for Lingormr, although it didn’t last nearly as long.
He cleared his throat out of habit, preparing to change the subject. There was still a lot he didn’t know, and now was as good a time as any to ask. “You gave me the basic summary last night, Soma, but are there other things I should know? Important hints, tips, things like that?”
no subject
She nodded at the Once-ler's recap of events, but didn't add to it. She figured it would be a better idea to find out what, exactly, Rapunzel's information meant before she started spreading it around.
"I didn't mention the clubs last night," she said, thinking back. "Some of the patients form teams, so we can explore the Institute in a safer and more organized fashion. You met Sora last night--he's in charge of Arts and Crafts, the biggest club. Most of the people you met last night were in Arts and Crafts, myself included. There are a few other clubs, and you can always travel with a group of your own if you'd prefer not to work with them. I just wouldn't recommend going out alone at night.
"You passed through the Sun Room this morning. There's a bulletin board where we can communicate with each other during the day. The nurses censor just about everything and take down anything that talks about Nightshift, so you have to be careful how you phrase things. That's why Arts and Crafts is called what it is."
She took another bite of her breakfast. The Once-ler and Lingormr didn't look like their appetites were up to it (no wonder they were both so skinny), but she knew she had to keep her energy up. "Lingormr, did I miss anything?"
no subject
He was rather surprised that Soma asked him if he had any insights on the subject. He had been here but a few days, which was barely the blink of an eye in the context of his life. She'd been the one who had dispensed all of the advice to him. "You would know better than I, dearest," he said. "Though I'd recommend against getting in to any sort of altercation during the day. They stick you with needles and it's not all that pleasant."