Day 66: Breakfast

[nobleman]

What Guy had seen on that scan resulted in some mixed feelings. While he had expected to find something in Claude, seeing how he was sick, it hadn't been quite the same as what they'd seen when they had scanned that other ill patient two nights ago. What did that mean? It was possible that the shape of it just looked different because of where it was in Claude's stomach, but Guy couldn't help but feel that there was a deeper meaning to it.

Yet another thing that he didn't understand, then. With a sigh, he got himself up out of bed and went searching immediately for the single leaf that he'd taken from the X-ray room last night. It was stored carefully in his possessions box, which meant that he didn't have to worry too much about that.

While he wanted to quickly sketch the leaf's general shape to post on the bulletin, Guy wasn't given that chance, as his nurse showed up before he could even grab for his journal. He had to relent and let her lead him to the cafeteria for breakfast. While Guy considered stopping by the bulletin to leave a note, that could wait until after he ate. He suspected that Anise or Luke would try to find him as soon as possible to tell him about their findings, so leaving a note for them would be redundant.

He did need to ask about the clue from last night and see if anyone else had further insight on it, but that might be something Claude wanted to do, seeing how he had a better idea of who that baptist was and what it all might signify.

After collecting a small amount of food onto a plate, Guy took a seat near the cafeteria's entrance, keeping an eye out for any of his friends so he could flag them down as they walked in.

[For Anise and Claude.]

Comments

[repelling]

Success. ...At first. That the man bowed his head first, drawing out his reluctance to acknowledge him, was a little insulting and threatened to raise his hackles, to disgruntle him. Uryuu kept calm, expectant but unruffled; though Kratos-san had sat next to him, it was clear he wasn't much inclined toward conversation. He might have reacted in a similar fashion had he been disturbed likewise. But then, he would not have taken a seat right next to a person when most of the Cafeteria was still empty. Especially a person he already knew, with whom he had worked.

Success, then, but only at first, because the look with which Kratos-san regarded him could only be called... vacant. Too controlled and muted to be obviously confused, but Uryuu could still see little hint of recognition in his eyes. Kratos-san stared at him as if trying to place him, and it became a struggle to keep his expression unchanged, to not evince the circus that had begun shrilling in his skull. As if his head needed any more disturbing. Hinted at only by his frozen, white-knuckled hands. This could be a matter of Kratos-san's irritation having this scope, this expression, yet the man had not struck him as the sort to show it in such a way. To pretend to mistake him, to not quite know him, as if a petty jab, as if to say, this is how memorable you are not. They had not spoken much, but it had only been a day since that night, and-- well, that was it, really. His suspicions confirmed and made worse. His missing belongings, his displacement from day to night. It had not been a day, or a handful of hours.

Unless Kratos-san's mind had been tampered with, it had been much longer.

The seconds passed, and the shift in the man's expression matched what he expected of the man. There it was, that condescension. That would be how he would do it; Uryuu fought the worrying force of his relief that the man finally had, apparently, placed him. He wanted to sag, to sit back or smile, and did none of it. Instead, he finally forked the strawberry. Again.

"That's too bad," he answered, not as easily as he wanted it. "I'd apologize if it was my fault, but I do hope you didn't lose much sleep over it."

A pause, Uryuu lifted the strawberry, not yet to his mouth. "Have you your cloak back? It wasn't in my room."

As worrying: Oh, there you are. Dry and quipping, and he could dismiss it as aimed at his failure to show last night, but he thought he knew better. He did know better, and he forced himself to stop staring down at the fruit on his fork. To look at Kratos-san (his blackened eye not quite as open, and it strikes him now he might not have properly straightened his glasses last night) and ask what there was no point in avoiding.

"Kratos-san... How long has it been since we last ate breakfast together?"

[forsworn]

It was hard to say how he felt about Ishida abruptly returning. He had never really gotten to know him (The things learned and seen that night did not count; in fact, he actively tried his hardest to erase them all.), so it was not like suddenly seeing an old friend, long thought lost, again. Granted, it was nice to some degree, the not quite substantial one that contained that feeling of satisfaction that occurred when one was able to place a familiar face seen long ago, but at the same time, he couldn't exactly find it in himself to be completely pleased to see anyone again in here, in this setting.

Anyway. "It was returned to me a while ago." Kratos couldn't remember exactly when, only that one night he'd found it draped across the rest of his uniform where it belonged. He'd taken that to mean that Ishida had been released, but - and here was the confusing part - here the boy was, acting as not much time had passed at all, as if he had not been gone for the past few weeks.

Well, given Landel's propensity to yank people from wherever he wished in their personal timelines, it didn't seem too far-fetched that he would do so from his own. Perhaps he was trying to add some variety to his usual formula, heavens forbid he was actually bored of causing confusion the usual way.

Kratos looked away, toying mindlessly with his fork as he tried to estimate the exact amount of time. "Nearly...two weeks, I would say? So, you are quite, what is that term again--ah, yes, 'fashionably late'." He glanced back at Ishida. "I'm guessing you have no explanation for what happened."

[repelling]

It was returned to me a while ago. A while ago. Just how long had-- but the question had been asked, and he waited, trying not to stare directly, to expect and be expectant and dreading. His gaze flitted, from the man's face to his fingers with the fork, to his own fruit cup. Again, the fruit cup. It was nonsensical to dread it; the facts would be what they were. It would only make certain what he already knew, really.

Only... two weeks, and his careful composure tensed, and faltered, giving way to small disturbances: his eyes widening (one moreso), just so, ringing white around the iris, his mouth thinning. The jab he already knew to expect of Kratos-san, the sarcasm, was lost for the moment in the white noise that followed. A brief moment where he stared with too much gravity at that fruit cup, the sounds around him going dull and distant. Nearly two weeks. Nearly fourteen days. Three hundred and thirty-six hours, taking some to account for "sleep". Three hundred hours and no recollection of it. Simply gone. All but for that headache, that grogginess, his body's sense of displacement, it silent insistence that the night in which he woke did not belong to the day he last remembered.

Remembered, and little wonder Kratos-san had looked at him so. He could hardly scrape up much indignation at being forgotten: they had been paired by virtue of being the leftovers on a single mission best cast permanently from mind, and shared an unremarkable followup breakfast. The man had now been here for something like two and a half months. Many seemed to come and go. The uncanny thing: that Uryuu had come back, or not quite gone.

A few seconds, and even that too much. No point agonizing over it. Best to push forward, confront what he could. Finally: the fruit on his fork met his tongue. Uryuu chewed, slow as ever, and swallowed.

"One must find fashion where he can, when forced to wear these things." His fingers pinched to pluck at his shirt collar.

"...None." Calm measured by the millimeter, no trace of his disturbance, but for the remaining tightness of his jaw. "I also hope you didn't wait long. That night."

Spearing a cube of peach. "I don't doubt that Kratos-san hoped to pass a silent breakfast, but perhaps he'll humor me a few questions. Such as, a request for an overview of what, of any import, happened these last two weeks."


[ LLOYD AND ORIHIME MAY JUMP IN AND INTERRUPT EXPOSITION NOW ;3 whoever gets there first w/e ]

[redcladidealist]

Lloyd wasn't a morning person. He didn't necessarily sleep in ridiculously late, but it was hard for him to just get up and get going as early as everyone else seemed to manage. This was a fact that had made him late for school more times than he could count throughout his life. When the Landel's voice filtered into his room over the intercom, he groaned, only registering the interruption to his sleep just enough to roll over in his bed.

Or he tried to. Pain shot through him when he shifted his weight onto his left side, and with a hiss he quickly aborted the effort. Groggy and disoriented, he opened his eyes, his right hand coming up to press against his ribs, only to find the left side covered in bandages. His left arm, too. What...? For a moment, he couldn't remember what had happened. Had he been attacked on his way home from school? It wouldn't be the first time he'd had to fight off monsters in the forest...

No, that wasn't right. He wasn't even living at home right now, wasn't going to school except for the sporadic lessons Professor Raine tried to give him as they traveled across Sylvarant and Tethe'alla. A monster attack still wouldn't have been out of place, but what was the last thing he'd been doing?

He was still trying to collect his thoughts when the door to his room opened. His room that he didn't recognize at first until he saw the face of his nurse. That was when the memories came back, of Landel's, of Lee and Flora, of the monster that had attacked them the night before. His breath caught in his throat. Lee and Flora-!

"Good morning, Nigel," his nurse cut into his thoughts. It was the same man as before, though this time his face had a distinct expression of sympathy as he came over to the side of Lloyd's bed. "How are you feeling? That was a nasty accident you had yesterday."

"Accident?" Lloyd echoed. He couldn't have kept the confusion from his voice even if he'd tried. "I didn't have an accident. There was a monster, and I-"

He'd tried to escape. They'd broken out of Landel's, had made it all the way to the road, had been attacked, and now he was back here. Dammit! All of it had been for nothing! Unless maybe Flora and Lee were still out there. He couldn't remember what had happened that led to him being brought back here, but maybe he'd been the only one that had gotten captured again. He quickly bit down on the impulse to ask if his friends were all right. If there was any chance that they were still free, he couldn't bring attention to them.

The nurse shook his head. "That was just a nightmare, Nigel. Now, let's get you dressed and off to breakfast. You'll feel much better with some food in your stomach."

"I can dress myself," Lloyd said, irritated. "And my name's not Nigel. It's Lloyd."

His protests earned a sigh from the man. "Well, if you decide you can't manage with your injuries, I'm here to help. But you really should start trying to remember who you are. Your loved ones are worried for you, Nigel."

"I know who I am - and it isn't Nigel. I don't know why you keep calling me that." Gingerly, Lloyd got out of his bed and went to his closet to get a clean shirt and a pair of pants. It would be hard to change into them on his own, but he wasn't about to let someone help him get dressed like he was some kind of little kid. He winced as he carefully and awkwardly tugged his old shirt off.

"Because your name is Nigel Clarke," the nurse said with far too much patience in his voice. "And I'm sure you'll remember that for yourself soon enough. That's why you're here, after all. Now, come along. You don't want to be late for breakfast." He only waited long enough for Lloyd to finish pulling his clothes on before leading him from the room.

Once they got to the cafeteria, the nurse guided him into the line for food. Lloyd continued to grumble silently about the whole situation, but once it was his turn to be served, he took the food willingly. Hey, he was hungry, and food was food. He'd eat and then figure out what he was going to do next. Plate loaded with the meat-wrapped-in-bread, a fruit cup and a glass of juice, he turned to scan the room for a place to sit down-

-and stopped, feeling suddenly frozen in his place. A man was sitting at a table near the door, his back turned to Lloyd, but Lloyd knew that head of red-brown hair, knew the stiff slope of his shoulders. He didn't even register the other man that was sitting there. His attention was all on-

"Kratos!"

His knuckles went white as he gripped the tray in his hands, and without thinking he stormed across the room straight for the table where the angel was sitting down. The teen's whole body practically bristled with anger at the sight of the man.

"What are you doing here? Is Cruxis in on this? I thought the Renegades and Cruxis were enemies!" Or had Yuan not been involved in bringing him here after all? Maybe Cruxis had captured him sometime after he'd collapsed from whatever Yuan had done to him, then brought him here so he couldn't keep interfering with their plans. Damn it, either way, this couldn't be good!

It didn't even cross his mind that he might have been interrupting a conversation.

[faeth]

You're Vega Highwell.

It was not a question, and the way the nurses had smiled at her that morning only served to exacerbate her pounding headache. She'd woken in the bathroom, bleary-eyed and half-conscious, to someone softly chiding her, to her head propped against a stranger's disconcertingly bony shoulder and her arm braced by cold hands she could feel even through layers of her clothing.

Years ago, when she was young (younger), she might've accepted the idea -- no, grasped at it, until the facts suited her and ceased to be frightening in all its unknowns and inconsistencies. But that was then, and even then, hospitals were never her idea of a good time; mistaken identities were fascinating in works of fiction, but she was rapidly discovering that the reality of it was only unnerving. Escaping to find the others -- maybe a portal back? -- seemed to be an impossible task when the nurses continuously (albeit very politely) hounded and badgered her until she relented, until her only responses were nods and crooked smiles and the occasional pinch of her arm. Needless to say, it had been a rough morning on the way to breakfast, but she had somehow coped even with her throbbing headache and her rapidly bruising arm.

Even the idea of hog-tying her own breakfast wasn't enough to shake her. No, not when the idea of her friends falling into Hueco Mundo was still at the forefront of her mind.

At least -- until a ruckus started up a little aways from her. She turned her attention away from the breakfast line, eyes falling on the young boy suddenly storming off to a table, anger radiating off of him in waves that Orihime could have sworn she felt prickling the hairs at the back of her neck. An argument, perhaps? To explain all the yelling from brown-haired boy to this 'Kratos' sitting right...

... next to...

Is that--?

"Ah, it is!" She bounded over towards the same table, a handful of breaded-sausages falling from her plate as she made haste, only slowing down when a few sshh's and careful's were directed her way. A miracle, to be sure, that she didn't drop the tray in its entirety when she skidded to a halt next to the nearly mummified, but clearly Ishida-kun sitting there at the table. "I knew it. Ishida-kun," she said, her voice a bit more hushed. Beneath the rather tangled stream of her bright hair, her eyes grew as big as her breakfast plate and grew bigger still, as she took in his current condition.

"What happened-!"

-- she paused in mid-gasp, teeth suddenly worrying her bottom lip as she cast a slightly worried glance at the angry boy and this 'Kratos' close to them. And then she amended, quieter, less panicked- "What happened to your face?"

[forsworn]

The corner of Kratos's mouth twitched briefly as Ishida played off of his "fashionably late" comment, before he sighed deeply, straining to recall exactly what had happened that night some two weeks ago. "We left eventually. Don't think too much about it." There had been many nights where nothing had been accomplished; he had never held any of them against people and did not intend to begin doing otherwise.

"As for these past two weeks--" Whatever he was about to say, though, was drowned out by his name, shouted for the whole cafeteria to hear, and for a second, he flashed back to a time that seemed so long ago by now, that same loud, angry voice demanding yet another explanation (The Renegades and Cruxis are enemies, aren't they?!) as the thing he'd dreaded most slowly unfolded (How does it feel to have your own son reject you like that?).

It was unfolding again. He didn't even need to turn to know the owner of that voice, that voice that instantly captured all of his attention, that voice that he'd thoroughly tuned his ears to catch whenever possible, that he'd hoped he'd never hear while still within the Institute's grasp and yet that he'd always wished for ever since Nigel and Lise had crossed his path--

Something like a mixture of fear and shock crossed Kratos's face, so great was the blow. He had contained it well, back then, at Altessa's house, but there he'd had forewarning. Here, it was if he was standing in front of her grave again for the first time, when the realization had first struck him, that his son was alive, and that he could be thrust into incredible, life-threatening danger.

And then, below that, a familiar current of despair. Once again, the two of them were standing in the midst of a familiar fog, as on that night, one step from clarity and the truth, and as much as he needed to act otherwise, Kratos knew that by his own will, he could not take that step. Were it not for Yuan, he and Lloyd would probably have continued on, one in blissful ignorance and the other in - as usual - self-imposed agony. And he would impose it on himself yet again, to protect his son from the weighty crimes of his father, or so he would convince himself.

He looked down and closed his eyes as he summoned the effort it would take to play the man Lloyd was expecting to meet. Be calm. Detached. Ice. It turned out to be easier than he expected, drawing upon the familiar coldness of an angel of Cruxis, and soon, Kratos dared to look over his shoulder, expression stony, guarded--and ever so slightly irritated.

"Good morning, Lloyd."

The usual patronizing note in his voice rang awkward and foreign to his ears, even though to any other, he would sound no different, and unbidden, his shadow once again whispered in his ear: You do not deserve him. That guilt he'd thought defeated was surging back to life, the knowledge that he was too weak to forgive himself, that he was willing to deny Lloyd the thing he had been searching for longest, his father's identity, because he feared the rejection more, could not bear to bring down the greatest of his shields...

By this point, someone had also taken notice of Ishida, a girl - he could see her orange hair out of the corner of his eye - but Kratos could not seem to divert any of his attention to this new intrusion.

"Congratulations. You've figured out my nefarious scheme."

[repelling]

Any retort as to how little thought he gave it ranked lower than listening to what Kratos-san could explain of the last thirteen days. Further, given the sigh -- not from, he thought, frustration at the memory so much as the effort to recall something insignificant -- it truly did not merit any extended focus.

Uryuu listened as Kratos-san began, and he jumped when the shouting of the man's name interrupted him. He turned irritably toward the disturbance, not that he much needed to, as the guy marched over, his fury arguably radioactive. Cruxis, Renegades; either he was insane or he knew Kratos-san, but Uryuu did not much care either way, unimpressed with the spectacle and annoyed at losing his explanation.

His explanation and his peace, as all that shouting wreaked a new hell on his head.

Opening his mouth to advise him to shut up for everyone's sake, as well as his, as much more commotion and he'd draw a nurse and her needle over, Uryuu looked first at Kratos-san. An arched look, meant to be shared, a really? at this moron. What he saw on his face stopped him cold. Emotion, complex, quick, subtle, and shaded. Of course-- if the guy knew Kratos-san, then Kratos-san knew him. The simplicity of the rage directed at the man ill fit with the fluctuations in him; something uneven and mismatched, here. It happened swiftly, and Uryuu glanced between them, words dried, as Kratos-san schooled himself.

Lloyd, he said, and more than good with names, it struck a chord of familiarity. That night-- but more importantly, much as Uryuu understood the impulse to react as Kratos-san had to such overdone anger, he suspected that might only set the guy further off (he had experience doing much the same to another loud, temperamental idiot, and the next step sometimes involved Uryuu getting manhandled), and there were nurses to consider. Feeling distinctly out of place now, he ducked around that hesitation to say as much (after all, he was sitting here, much as this Lloyd hadn't bothered to notice).

He never got his chance. Another commotion barreled toward them; out of his periphery he saw those miniature frankfurters tumbling from a tray, over a skipping step, and above that-

And she stopped right in front of him, all wide eyes and bright hair, streaming words, all Inoue-san.

Uryuu jumped again, now with such shock he fell half onto the empty chair on his other side, then scrambled to his feet. Just aware, dimly, that he'd dropped his fruit cup down his front. The plastic bounced sadly under the table.

"In-Inoue-san?!"

Though she questioned him with concern, he could not yet answer, reeling. It had always been a possibility; his few days here had not even settled him into a routine of expecting less. If he had gone and returned, then knowing that she too had been here made it all the more likely. Seeing her standing real, solid, and unmistakably her, was another thing entirely. Relief that he no longer needed to seek her out as well beyond the gates, and risk still that the girl he found might only have been a copy, fast fell beneath a surge of blinding fury at this place for taking her, for doing this to her as well, and dread at what might come later. Unforgivable. Beyond justification. His nails dug into his palm, and the pricks pulled him back.

Cycling through these, Uryuu stood gaping, and as the more intense of the emotions passed, details struck him: her longer hair, noted especially at her bangs and the layers below. Her height had not changed, but-

Understand, that as his eyes flitted down over her in that matching, ugly uniform (not quite as terrible on her, but for the meaning of it), it was only because of his instincts as a tailor. A fledgling one, who would not dare to even presume to call himself that, but he did have a knack for judging measurements at a glance, and had designed her a shirt before they left Soul Society.

Thus, only for that reason, really, did he realize that while Inoue-san had not gotten taller, she had grown... elsewhere.

Really.

Really!

...anyway, her face also looked a little older, so there. Not that he was an expert on her f- never mind. Was she...? His awareness of what could be done in tampering with timelines did not make this less jarring. It probably did not much matter. A curiosity if they had somehow come from diverged timelines, yet he wondered at the wisdom of inquiring. Likely he would not remember regardless, but to prioritize preventing misfortune and risking history, or preserving the sanctity of what was meant to pass? Meant to had such a disagreeable flavor it; he much preferred choice.

As he mused, he realized they still stood there, and he had said nothing else.

"Er-"

Right, her question.

"An idiot with a bat," he said, blinking rapidly, one eye more than the other. "More importantly-" no, she had glanced at the one called Lloyd, and Uryuu interrupted himself to look as well.

"If you don't calm down, you'll be in for a nasty surprise," with one hand gesturing at the nurses dispersed throughout the room. As the other wiped the mango off his shirt. Coolly. As if it was cool. Everyone spilled fruit on themselves.

Back to Inoue-san, his gesturing hand now grasping at and pushing his glasses. "...Inoue-san." Quiet, overcome in yet another long look, then: businesslike. "How long have you been here?"

He had not felt her reiatsu last night, but had only searched at the start. Stepping back from the table, he debated between motioning for her to sit there and finding a place less chaotic.

[ ooc: wow such gross tl;dr SORRY ]

[redcladidealist]

That patronizing tone was not lost on Lloyd, and if anything the teen's temper boiled hotter. This was the man who'd betrayed him and his friends, was part of the organization that had caused so much pain and suffering in the two connected worlds, had imprisoned him in Derris-Kharlan, and now he was mocking Lloyd's accusations, like Lloyd was only just now figuring something out that was staring everyone else in the face. There wasn't even a denial, because of course Lloyd should have known from the start. In retrospect, maybe he should have. Who else besides Cruxis would be behind a place as horrible as this?

"Don't make fun of me," Lloyd growled. "What is this place? Is this another Human Ranch?" That would make a sickening amount of sense. Human Ranches were made to force humans to suffer. That sounded like a perfect description for a place that did experiments on its prisoners. The only thing that didn't fit was that he hadn't seen any signs of any Exspheres on anyone but himself and the angel in front of him. He opened his mouth, intent on demanding an explanation, but then the other man present spoke and Lloyd finally realized that he wasn't talking to Kratos alone.

He frowned at the other, not sure how he fit into all of this, or if he even did. At second glance, he wasn't even certain the guy was any older than him. "What do you mean, a nasty surprise?" Lloyd's tone was suspicious, but at least he managed to tone down his open hostility. His eyes went from the stranger to the girl who'd just approached, his anger faltering another half-step. Her face was so open and earnest and worried that for a moment he was reminded of Colette. They were both wearing the gray clothes with the yellow smiling face that all the other patients wore. The same gray that Lloyd was wearing, that

Kratos was wearing.

Lloyd's brown eyes snapped back to Kratos, incredulity and bewilderment mixing in with the anger that was still very much there. He felt like something important was about to be yanked out from beneath his feet. Pain lanced through his arm from his too-tight grip on his tray, but he ignored it, too many other things to pay attention to right now. "Why are you wearing those clothes?" he demanded. "What's going on?"

[faeth]

There was a lot to take in. Shock replaced curiosity replaced anxiety replaced relief until there was simply just too much to feel at once. Only distantly was she aware of the fruit medley that had spilled down Ishida-kun's shirt, of the fact that she should be running to fetch napkins to wipe up the mess, but that she wasn't, staying rooted to her spot and blissfully unaware of his eyes examining her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered the argument happening alongside them, felt the hairs raising at the back of her neck. (You've figured out my nefarious scheme-) There was something wrong with the picture, with the coldness in Kratos's voice, and the building fire in Lloyd's. Everything about the boy was expressive and so loud and so disagreeable -- familiar almost, but so too was the dismissive way that the other man had addressed him. It was a strange inkling, nothing more than a hunch really, for her to think it was all somehow misplaced.

But it was really none of her business, was it? She looked to her classmate, then to the red-headed stranger and back again, understanding at once that there was no danger here despite the distrust rattling like an ugly song in Lloyd's subsequent arguments. And anyway, Ishida-kun had been hit with a bat, and that should've taken top priority from the very beginning; perhaps she could heal his bruises right up if he'd let her.

Before Orihime could ask, however, he had turned and delivered the cryptic message towards the brown-haired boy beside them, directing their attention back on the nurses scattered about. It's just as she thought -- it was the fake smiles, the stethoscopes, and the uniforms surrounding them that shook her the most (you're confused, it was a nightmare, don'tyourememberthat--). Her fingers clenched and unclenched around where she gripped her breakfast tray, suppressing the sudden chill that uncurled along her spine like the touch of a ghost, but -- she mustered up a small smile when Ishida-kun addressed her, shaking off the haunting sensation.

"I arrived... last night, I think. I might've -- fainted a little," she replied, tone bubbly if not slightly tentative, as if fainting wasn't exactly a big deal.

"So I,"

Why are you wearing those clothes?

Her smile slipped, gaze dropping. "I don't know why I'm-- why we're both here or what's..."

What's going on?

"... going on, either..."

[forsworn]

Kratos was trying very hard to not fully meet Lloyd's eyes, to give the illusion that he was staring him down and yet remain focused instead on a small portion of the white, bare wall behind him. If he looked directly, it would all be over, and that absolutely could not happen. Not now. Certainly not in the cafeteria.

His tunnel vision was abruptly broken when Ishida leaped, and then fell to his feet, his fruit cup hitting the ground with a thud that was loud enough to get Kratos to look, his eyes flicking briefly to one side. A pair of ungainly fools, the two of them, one unable to look his son in the eye, the other the proud owner of a juice stain down the front of his shirt. He sighed minutely as he returned back to Lloyd - or perhaps more accurately, to the small patch of white behind him.

"Sit down." He said it politely enough, but he'd meant it as an order, and Lloyd would certainly recognize That Tone, the one that added silently, If you have any regard for your life, you will do as I say. The last thing Kratos wanted was for the boy to be sedated, certainly to spare him of that experience, but also because it would be his fault for goading him, and he hardly needed more things weighing on his already guilt-stricken conscience.

As he waited to see if Lloyd would do as he said, he spared Ishida and his friend, "Inoue", another glance. It would have been awkward and even excruciating to force Ishida to play the third wheel to his family drama (Hah.), so Kratos did feel a tad thankful that someone had appeared to distract him and tie him up in his own fumbling, dysfunctional reunion.

--well, perhaps for Ishida. For him and Lloyd, as things stood, "reunion" was putting things lightly.

With yet another sigh, Kratos pulled himself away and back to the task of somehow convincing Lloyd that he had not kidnapped Colette for the thirtieth time, harmed any of his friends for that matter, or landed himself here by order of Yggdrasil. "I know you have difficulty with this, but suspend your disbelief for a few seconds and just accept that what I am telling you is true.

"Cruxis is not responsible for this place, and neither are the Renegades. As for me--" He plucked at his shirt. "this shirt should be proof enough that I am in the same straits as you. I did not choose to be here." It was easy to be this way, he realized, also because Lloyd's attitude facilitated it. If he focused on responding to the anger and outrage rather than on Lloyd himself and the fact that his son was now in the Institute, a subject of Landel's whims, he could ignore, however briefly, the uneasy cocktail of emotions now swirling around, threatening to spill over. "I understand that I might not be someone you were expecting or hoping to see, but allow me to repeat myself: I am in the same straits as you. So, it would be preferable - advantageous, if you like - for you to save your enmity for later."

[repelling]

Human Ranch? Another Human Ranch? The conversation, or what passed for one, or what passed for two disjointed and not quite meeting among the four, moved too quickly for him to even react. He might not have even with the time. Whatever the twisted world from which Kratos-san and this guy had come (and his own had its share of monstrous things), at the moment, Inoue-san held most of his attention.

Not that he tuned out the other two; Lloyd responded and thus so did he, with a distracted glance. "Make too much of a fuss and they sedate you." He answered, miming pushing the plunger on a syringe.

Uryuu saw this: both Kratos-san's accuser and Inoue-san were new. The wrappings on the guy's arm told that he had a more adventurous night than Inoue-san, but his wild misunderstanding of the situation made transparent that an explanation would shortly follow. With both in a similar position, it made just as much sense to stay and share the table. Kratos-san had quite a bit of seniority on him. As Kratos-san began to defend himself, Uryuu listened to what Inoue-san could offer of the night before.

"Fainted?" He echoed, features scrunching with concern. "Did you hurt yourself? What happened?"

Another evaluative look at her evinced no wounds or bandages. A mild bump on her head, perhaps?All that stood out was how badly her hair needed a brushing, and his fingers itched for his bag. Of course he always carried a comb with him. Along with a compact mirror and a number of other essentials.

Without much evidence of anything worse, her question occupied him. The disappearance of her smile, as tiny as it had been, produced a pang, and it showed in his eyes before he tucked away such emotion. No point in it, in being soft when approaching the harsh reality of it. Why apologize when another victim himself, when the fault was not his?

He took a moment nonetheless to wrestle back the urge, to swallow the sorry pressing against his teeth.

"Inoue-san should sit too, please." Motioning to the table. "Ah, and..."

Uryuu directed a level stare at Lloyd. "My name is Ishida Uryuu. Kratos-san and I have worked together, here, in the past. You do not know me, so it would be unreasonable for you to believe when I tell you that I can vouch for what he has said, but you will soon see the truth regardless. We aren't from the same worlds- I, and Inoue-san here, are from Karakura Town, Japan. Earth."

Absurd, adding on the planet. Necessary here.

"Kratos-san, my classmate, Inoue Orihime. Inoue-san, Kratos-san." Uryuu nodded between them. "Please excuse us. We might as well do the explanations together. I could take over, if you like."

One of them did have a marked preference for it.

[redcladidealist]

Against his will, Lloyd recognized that tone of voice from Kratos. The man usually sounded stern, but Lloyd had traveled with him long enough to know that there were different levels to it. His shoulders hunched defensively. He didn't want to acknowledge that tone, didn't want to acknowledge that he'd once been that close that he would know what that tone might mean. He didn't want to sit just because Kratos told him to.

Hunching his shoulders, though, turned out to be a mistake. The action pulled at the torn-and-stitched skin on his ribs - not a whole lot, but just enough to make him wince before he could hold the reaction back. That in turn drew his attention to the pain in his arm, and the way his arm was beginning to tremble from the effort of holding the tray. Telling himself it was only because of his injuries, Lloyd lowered himself to sit down, setting the tray on the table.

That didn't make it any easier to swallow what Kratos was saying. But as he struggled with that disbelief, the man with the glasses had a chance to say his part. The nurses...

Lloyd turned his head, and sure enough, his nurse was over there, waiting, watching. Somehow the wary way the man was looking at him made it feel like he was expecting to have to step in. Step in and do what...

Lloyd scowled. He didn't want to find out.

He turned his attention back to the others, and he opened his mouth to ask the girl - she'd fainted? - if she was all right. Too late, he was beaten to it, so he just closed his mouth as Ishida continued with the introductions. The introductions and the explanation that made him blink, startled, and completely derailed his train of thought.

"Another world?" he echoed. "You mean, like Tethe'alla and Sylvarant?" No, it wasn't a new concept to him. That wasn't what was so surprising. He just had thought there were only two. "I'm Lloyd," he added. "Lloyd Irving - from Sylvarant."

But even that surprising news could only keep his attention so long before he turned his scowl back on Kratos. He did at least keep his voice down. "I don't understand. If you're a prisoner here too, if you're really not involved, why don't you just escape? You're stronger than just about anyone-" And that admission stung. "-so what's keeping you from breaking out, or just flying away?"

[faeth]

It was likely the headache to blame for the sensation, for the crawling speed with which she took in everything around her. The morning was such a sharp contrast to last night, when the halls were made of darkness and a silence that had sucked the very breath from her lungs. Compared to that, all of this should be comforting; a crowd instead of isolation, explanations instead of ringing silence, yellow smiles instead of the circle of her flashlight's beam.

But it was still maddening, half her mind asserted, and the previous mention, the phrase human farm, only served to heighten that trapped rat feeling stomping around at the back of her mind. But Ishida-kun had exhibited no alarm, Kratos-san held no threatening aura, and although Lloyd had been angry, he wasn't truly violently bad... or else he wouldn't have radiated a spark of concern when he'd looked at her, when they'd spared a glance at each other in the middle of his argument. It was fine. At the moment, there was nothing to worry about.

But there was still all the white, white and the sea of gray. Even when it finally hit her to offer a napkin for Ishida-kun's spill, it was just in time to realize that the stain wasn't too pronounced; he wasn't wearing his usual white outfit, and why would he, when he wasn't wearing it when she'd left, when he elected to stay behind. "Oh," she started, looking a little odd with her blinking eyes and outstretched arm, the napkin in her hand not touching but hovering somewhere in front of Ishida-kun's shirt. "Ishida-kun.

"You changed your pop-star haircut."

... But, yes, he asked her a question, didn't he? Orihime's hand jerked back, waving dismissively. "Oh, it was- nothing, really! I just tripped on my way to the bathroom, I think." She answered quickly, only slowing down when she recognized the pinch in his brow. "You know, it's the usual for me, so it was really no problem. But it might've been some trouble if someone else came around that didn't have a hard head like me, so they should probably have a wet floor sign around anyway, right? But they're probably liable anyway, do you think we can sue?" For our freedom, tumbled out not long after as a joke, but it was more difficult than she might've imagined to stay chipper. She tacked on some laughter to punctuate, but the sound rang false, falling with a drawn-out exhale, like she'd been holding her breath.

"But, um... never mind," she amended lamely, setting her tray down on the table quickly before she sat down, opting to simply stare at her food instead of digging in, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

The introductions were straightforward, and she was all the more glad for it. It was time for something to finally make sense. However, the question still itched at the back of her throat -- do you know if our friends are here, too? -- but she forced herself to wait, to endure the still strange emptiness she felt when she tried to search around for her friends' reiatsu, when she tried to ignore away the fact that Ishida-kun would've told her if they'd been nearby.

Luckily, Ishida-kun had provided a decent distraction. Earth, he had said, as if it hadn't been obvious, and her head instinctively jerked up, peering at him through the frame of her hair in quiet curiosity. Lloyd chipped in, Tethe'alla and Sylvarant, and Orihime's shoulders bunched, her once folded hands now on the edge of the table, the suspense folding her body into itself as her mind painted pictures, color flooding over the grim outlook that had been her focus not seconds ago. By the time she was introduced to Kratos-san, her eyes were sparkling with intrigue as she regarded the older man with a fervent, eager nodding (err -- more bobbing, really) of her head.

But her classmate's offer to explain things reminded her that this was not the time nor the place for a barrage of questions (what'sitlikeinspacehaveyoubeentoearthcouldyoutakemetoyourleadersomeday). Nevertheless, Lloyd's suggestion -- flying away -- was just enough to keep her from completely suppressing her excitement.

Fortunately, it was still relatively restrained: a wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression that she directed at Ishida-kun beside her, and an awed whisper proclaiming, "Ishida-kun, don't you realize, you've befriended aliens!"

[forsworn]

Kratos breathed an inward sigh of relief as he watched Lloyd sit down - he and Lloyd were not on the best of terms, but at least the boy would still listen to him if asked properly - and then nodded as Ishida introduced his friend and classmate.

"Go ahead." Ishida was the more loquacious of the two of them, and frankly, Kratos had long since tired of giving newcomers the obligatory "welcoming" speech. It was almost mind-numbing to go over the particulars now, that they were trapped, powerless, and at the whims of a madman who on one hand cast them as insane and on the other subjected them to sufficient nighttime ordeals that they might as well all go insane.

Shortly after he'd agreed to Ishida's offer, though, out of the corner of his eye, he caught Ishida's friend - Inoue giving him...actually, he wasn't sure what she was doing, only that it was slightly unnerving and reminiscent of Raine's Ruin Mode (Oh. No.), and that it had only started after Lloyd had mentioned the twin worlds--speaking of which, of course, Lloyd had to continue on talking about things that, while not exactly top secret, Kratos had still been working incredibly hard to keep from public knowledge. Thankfully, though, Lloyd served to distract him, however momentarily, from Inoue's bobbing--nodding--whatever she was doing.

"I wonder why," he said mildly, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps if I wasn't able to do as I wished, as in, perhaps I don't have access to that kind of power at the moment." He continued firmly focusing on the slight sense of frustration he felt, trying to let it build so that it could also overwhelm the ridiculous urge to just take Lloyd aside, abandon Ishida and his bizarre friend, and do something that would approximate to a confession. Control. He had to remain in control of himself and this situation, and maybe, just maybe he could come out relatively unscathed. "I'm sure you discovered that earlier, judging by--"

"Ishida-kun, don't you realize, you've befriended aliens!"

Never mind.

Kratos stiffened. The alien concept was not so foreign to him; he had even entertained that train of thought before. It was different, though, when someone directed so much attention to the fact in such a blatant manner, so much, in fact, that his unnerved feeling from earlier was swiftly evolving into full-blown discomfort.

He turned away from Lloyd to direct a flat, uncomprehending stare at Inoue. "...what?" That was about the best he could manage, giving the circumstances.

[redcladidealist]

Whatever Lloyd might have said to Kratos was derailed in a heartbeat by Inoue's remark. His head jerked up in startled confusion before he hesitated, sharing a look with Kratos. "...we're aliens?" He was completely oblivious to the way that, in that moment, he almost seemed to mirror the way that Kratos held his head, the slight widening of his eyes before his eyebrows pinched down just enough to furrow above the bridge of his nose.

Then he frowns and the moment is lost. "I'm not an alien. At least, I don't think." Unlike with Kratos, the concept wasn't one Lloyd was really familiar with. The idea of another world had been foreign to him when Sheena had first explained that she wasn't from Sylvarant. Even now, knowing that the elves had come from... somewhere else, it hadn't really occurred to him to pin a label of "alien" on anything that wasn't from his world. "I don't think Kratos is, either, unless being an angel counts."

Speaking of which...

He turned his frown back on the angel in question. "What do you mean, you can't use your power? Did something happen to your Exsphere?"

[repelling]

...Pop-star haircut?

His hand made a motion toward his hair, but he halted it before he could reach past his chin. Instead used it to wave off the offered napkin; he had his own and wouldn't use up one of hers. So he changes his hairstyle? That was less important than ascertaining just what Inoue-san had done to herself last night, but a last thought for the subject did pass: he hoped he got taller, too. That had to be a given, right? Even better if he was taller than Kurosaki...

It sounded as though Inoue-san had just slipped. She had an impressively hard skull. Still, he worried. A solid fall and impact on tile could crack the strongest bone - but, having already seen that she looked fine, only wrestled with a smile at the way she went on. Do you think we can sue? If only. Someday, he's resolved they'll have worse than that. It wasn't as difficult to resist the smile when her laughter sounded so off, when she said never mind and sat; his expression sobered as well. Once she sat, Uryuu followed, now taking and dabbing one of his napkins into his water glass.

"I've never heard of Tethe-alla or Sylvarant," he said, looking at Lloyd- no, Irving-san, then at Kratos-san, as he wiped at the stain on his shirt. He and Kratos-san had not exchanged much information about their worlds, not beyond the very minimum in regard to what they could do. "But, perhaps like that."

Irving-san looked to Kratos-san, his questions of strength and escape stalling Uryuu's explanation. Not that he could offer much in the way of sense, merely the observed and told. He looked down, as if dedicating his attention to the stain, while listening, a side-glance keeping their expressions in focus. Flying away, Irving-san said, and Uryuu remembered Kratos-san's shadow. Hadn't there been--

Inoue-san, on his periphery becoming more and more animated, even clutching at the table's edge, now burst into his thoughts with what may as well have been a stage whisper.

About aliens.

Uryuu startled, taken aback and blinking for it. "Er-"

The aliens at hand heard, of course, and Uryuu felt heat shooting up his neck as Kratos-san tensed and stared at Inoue-san, as Irving-san -- Uryuu blinked again, momentarily forgetting his fluster as his eyes moved from Kratos-san to Irving-san and found a striking similarity in their expressions. A similarity that went beyond a mirrored confusion. There was nothing definitive in it, and his attention jerked back to embarrassment when Irving-san denied his- er, his-

extraterrestiality.

"Of course not," he agreed weakly, looking between the not-aliens, and then to Inoue-san, waving his napkin at her. "Don't mind Inoue-san, she likes- I mean, technically, all of us are aliens if you really think about it, and- angel?"

His pounding head threatened to go on strike. Not that he paused; when Irving-san frowned back at Kratos-san, Uryuu turned to Inoue-san, wringing his napkin. Unfortunately, as it was paper, it tore in his hands.

"Inoue-san," he whispered, not all that quieter than her ill-volumed exclamation, "you can't just call people aliens! Besides-"

Too much to attend to, and his mind would not have him miss any of it. Despite his fluster, he kept an ear on what Irving-san said, and heard exsphere. Uryuu's focus shifted at that, his eyes seeking the hands of the other two. He had noticed it on Kratos-san's that night, and before, when Irving-san winced and his hands shook his tray, saw the same: an odd, spherical object that looked fused to the skin.

He'd wondered if it had anything to do with the man's abilities.

"Er- if I may," he interjected, setting the sad shreds of napkin back on the table in a neat pile.

"I believe Kratos-san had been about to observe" before Inoue-san's interruption, "that Irving-san looks as though he ran into some trouble last night. Of course, I know nothing of what you can do at your best, but I expect that your performance was notably subpar. Anyone with any ability beyond the norm finds it incredibly limited in the night, and-"

With a long look at Inoue-san, hoping to hold her eyes, and pointedly address one of the questions he felt sure troubled her.

"-completely absent during the day. There is no point asking the how, as no answer has been provided. Unless something of the like was revealed in the last two weeks."

[faeth]

It wasn't like she was new to the situation. People often stopped and stared (when she talked, when she drew, when she ate). But the fact of the matter was that regardless of how familiar Orihime was to the gawking, the matching expressions on both Kratos's and Lloyd's faces were more than a little disconcerting. But why? There was nothing stuck between her teeth -- she hadn't even eaten yet. Her hair was a mess, but if that had been a problem, then likely someone would've said something about it earlier.

Oh darn it, she concluded somewhat dismally, they've realized I'm onto them.

But no. That wasn't it. Or it was, but she had no one really to blame but herself. Because suddenly the aforementioned aliens were speaking to her, and Ishida-kun was turning so red, she was momentarily struck by the concern that steam would start hissing out of his ears. The fire alarm, thankfully, never went off. "I'm sor- I'm sorry! I-I, didn't mean it as an insult, aha I guess that was culturally, um galactically?- insensitive of me to say..." Orihime trailed off, half of it a whisper to Ishida-kun, and the latter part spoken more loudly for the other two members of their table to hear.

I really need to work on my indoor voice, she reflected, one plaintive sigh later.

The explanations continued on without another hitch once she'd opted to wait before speaking. Orihime begun to pick the breading apart from her breakfast sausages, arranging the crumbs into shapes on her tray. A rocket, an angel, and a pair of glasses all living happily in their sausage house. It was a shame. Had they been kidnapped under lighter circumstances, they might've had more time to share their stories.

Instead, it was one piece of bad news after another. Limits. Nighttime. She glanced up from her plate at Ishida-kun just in time to catch his glance and his intimation. No powers during the day. Which meant that the fact she couldn't feel anything, hear anything from her hairpins wasn't just a case of Ayame and Shun'o giving her the silent treatment. "Which means I can't heal your eye for you... Or Irving-san's injuries."

It was -- disappointing, to say the least. Nerve-wracking, too. Orihime wasn't afraid of the darkness, but understanding that the same intimidating nighttime had somehow been the cause of Irving-san's and Ishida-kun's injuries was just --

Her heart sank a little in her chest. At the realization she should've caught on from the very beginning. "I guessed that the guy with the bat had been an accident, but an accident wouldn't explain all of... that." She glanced at Lloyd, and then cast another pointed look at her classmate's arm and shoulder. After all, he had been handling his side gingerly since the moment he'd sprung up from his seat to greet her. "Unless all of the floors were wet at the time."

[forsworn]

[after an eternity--]

Kratos smiled thinly at Inoue, although it was clearly one of those smiles that people used only when they were trying to gradually change the subject. "It's fine. We were caught off-guard, that's all." Meanwhile, he debated whether attempting to knock Lloyd out was worth sedation. It was starting to look like an appealing decision; already, a part of him did not think it a poor choice at all to spend the rest of the day in a drug-induced stupor after this whole debacle. The part that still wanted to retain some shred of dignity, though, objected vehemently enough to win out, and in the end, Kratos settled for the next-best option: feigning temporary, selective deafness.

Thus, when Ishida seemed to be asking for clarification about what Lloyd had meant by 'being an angel' counting or not, Kratos pointedly ignored him, choosing instead to focus on Lloyd's question.

"Ishida is correct: my power has been dramatically reduced, but not because of any tampering with the Exsphere; I would be able to tell if that were the case." Namely, there would be some kind of physiological imbalance, since he'd worn the thing for so damn long, and so far, nothing had happened... "Rather, it has to do with a certain 'device' that Landel has in his possession; we were able to determine this when it was abruptly disabled one night." Unfortunately, that was about all he could say on the subject, but better to talk about this than his angelic nature.

Or he could just change the subject again; that seemed to be working splendidly. It was Kratos's turn to fix Lloyd with a frown as he attempted to divert attention. "I digress. When did you even get here? Last night?" And what was the last thing he remembered? That question would have to be saved for later, though; he was sure that Lloyd's answer would be chock-full of more things that were better left unsaid. "How did you even manage to acquire all of" - he motioned toward Lloyd's arm - "this?"

[redcladidealist]

Lloyd might have explained his comment to Ishida, but everyone was talking and the subject was shifting away from it. It was easy to lose track of what he'd said and take for granted that people knew what he meant, especially with much more important things to focus on instead.

Like this limit on their powers.

"I got in a fight with a monster last night," he explained, and because Ishida had commented on it, too, the words didn't come out quite as grudgingly as they could have. "I got here yesterday, I think around lunch - or at least that's when I woke up. But I thought it was something Yuan did to me - this guy from my world," he added for Ishida's and Inoue's benefit. "When I tried to break out with a couple people I met, the technique I used on the door drained all my mana. I didn't have any left when the monster attacked, and I didn't have my swords, just a knife." He let out a frustrated breath. He didn't think he needed to finish the story. It was easy enough just looking at him to figure out what happened next.

Instead, he looked at Inoue and shook his head. "It's all right," he tried to reassure her. "It's not as bad as it looks." Which might have been a little white lie, since his injuries were bandaged up, but she didn't need to feel bad for something that wasn't her fault. "I just need to eat and rest and heal up a bit. I'll be okay in no time." Then, as an afterthought, he tilted his head. "And my name's Lloyd. Irving's the name of my family."

That said, he zeroed his attention back on Kratos, narrowing his eyes at something he'd said. "So this thing Landel has. We just have to get our hands on it and destroy it, right?" That sounded simple enough, and more than right up his alley. He didn't know that much about technology, but he was good at busting it up. "Any idea where it is?"

[repelling]

Though curious, had an explanation actually been offered, Uryuu might have refused it. He had more echoed than asked angel?, the surprise of the unexpected term -- ascribed to Kratos-san no less -- putting a sudden stop to his alien babble. Thus, he barely noticed that nothing further followed on that topic, as he wasn't seeking it.

What he did notice: Inoue-san's fingers moving on her plate, and he bit back a comment; it wasn't his place to tell her not to play with her food. He thought he recognized glasses in the shapes, and tried not to let that distract him. That Inoue-san would fidget so, rather than eat, said a fair amount about her mental status.

"My eye's fine," he assured her, "and Inoue-san might be able to help Irving-san tonight. Unfortunately, wet floors had nothing to do with the rest of my injuries--or his, I'm sure."

And Irving-san confirmed it, outright saying: monster. Uryuu watched Inoue-san, not even bothering to keep his gaze limited to the corners of his eyes. It shouldn't be too difficult for her to swallow. Imagination aside, even without the yet-to-be-defined time that had aged her, she'd been steeped in Hollows and the rest of that chaotic world for months. Feasbility, however, did not guarantee an easy or happy acceptance.

Kratos-san elaborated on his own condition; Uryuu listened to more talk of Exspheres and shifted, his eyes narrowing with interest, at the mention of a device used by Landel. It was something that could have been assumed beore, as there was obviously something behind their depleted powers. Yet, there had been a night when it was disabled, thus confirming its existence? If so, how had the entire institute not fallen? Not having heard of this before, he assumed it occured in the last two weeks.

The man (or angel?) changed the topic before he could inquire further, and here Uryuu noticed another thing: the odd discrepancy returned. That sense of uneven ground between Irving-san and Kratos-san. Uryuu wondered if Irving-san noticed. For all that he clearly knew more of Kratos-san's background, for all that he was familiar with his abilities and power, did he also know his personality? Perhaps he knew, yet was too dense to analyze. The puzzle was this: though Irving-san had charged over in a furious fit, though (after his queer disturbance) Kratos-san first reacted with cold condescension, he now asked after Irving-san. There were plenty of other subjects to focus on if limiting devices and angels were unpalatable.

Yet-- Kratos-san asked. When, how. Still relatively cold, yet that the questions came at all evinced interest. To make a larger leap: he might even care. Perhaps Uryuu would not have made such a leap if not for that night. Caught up in his own shadow and disinclined to eavesdrop, he could little help that he had overheard fragments despite. This Lloyd was important enough to have merited mention, whatever the significance.

Uryuu looked between them, his expression impassive. It wasn't his business. Yuan, he noted, and wondered how it took Irving-san so long to realize it had not been that guy's machinations.

"If it is as bad as it looks, Irving-san," he said dryly, and persisting with his family name, "then there's no need to put on a show for Inoue-san." Never mind that he had already done precisely that, and was ignoring her look at his own shoulder. Not to promise her time or energy, but-- "Her ability's incredible. Whatever her limits, Inoue-san will probably be able to help."

Irving-san refocused on Kratos-san, and his questions weren't bad, if too simple. That should obviously be a focus, yet as obvious must be this: that many others have had the same thought, and tried, and thus the question: what stopped them? He let Kratos-san handle that, deprived for the moment of explaining the basics. He considered, for a moment, beginning to tell Inoue-san and choosing to believe that Irving-san had picked up something since lunch yesterday, but given the way he approached their table this morning, it seemed unlikely.

Still. Keeping an ear and a fragment of his attention on Kratos-san, he turned to Inoue-san.

"I don't think I've ever seen Inoue-san eat so little." With a tentative smile. So much for his place.


[ ooc: FLIPS TABLES GIVES UP ON EVER BEING SHORT AHHHH SORRY ]

[faeth]

There was no room for doubt, to dream that it was all just a dream after all. An angel, an alien, and the student council president were all sitting at a dining table together in the middle of an asylum. If it was a very elaborate joke, then she'd yet to see the punchline, or she missed it and she should've laughed at the very beginning when they offered live pigs wrapped in blankets for breakfast and piled sausages onto their plates instead. Maybe she should've been laughing now -- about the wingless angel, about the fact Ishida-kun smelled awfully tropical, about the monsters Lloyd encountered last night like haha, oh yes we have a lot of those back home, too, who'd have thought.

"Ah," she replied somewhat lamely instead, and resisted the urge to make a fuss when she was dismissed by both Ishida-kun and Lloyd (-san, because even if he was from an alien planet, it didn't feel quite right for her to remove the suffix). And maybe she didn't understand what was so difficult to understand, that she'd seen worse and that she understood and was concerned after their health regardless. It was getting to be a trend, she noticed -- back home and not long ago, too, Ishida-kun had refused her offer to heal him, and she wondered if it was really so concerning that others would concern her.

Despite her wandering train of thought, Orihime had no trouble following the conversation, keeping in mind the important details. The alien gadgetry-- um, Exspheres were of noted interest; Landel's machine, too (Landel -- such a harmless name for a dangerous place); there were monsters and power restrictions and it was all a very serious matter. And although she'd been through worse, been through purgatory and back, she was still the girl who had once wished for normal if it meant that all of her friends would stay out of harm's way.

Orihime closed her eyes, brows furrowing as she accepted, and that was the end of that. Ishida-kun commented on her abilities, and she lifted her face, eyes widening.

"Oh, I'm really not-" She started, even if it was a half-hearted attempt to humble herself. After all, ever since she'd been told about the fact, Orihime had already settled on the fact that, once night fell, whatever limits Landel had placed on her powers would not prevent her from healing Lloyd-san's and Ishida-kun's injuries, both.

So, instead of lying, she settled on the next best thing: "Ishida-kun," she said, with absolute severity if not for the way her eyes seemed to crinkle at the edges with a hidden smile. "If you're not going to practice what you preach, I'm not going to give you my fruit cup."

Which then begged the question of why she wasn't eating very much of anything, either.

"... I guess I'm not really hungry," she admitted, abruptly dropping the piece of breading that she was currently worrying between her fingers. And though it was not entirely true, the smell of syrup was a sickening kind of sweet when it mixed with the persistent bandaid smell that stuck to the air -- a constant reminder of where they were. She tried though, popping one of the hotdogs into her mouth, holding her breath as she swallowed and somehow managing not to choke.

"Ishida-kun," she began, firm-toned despite herself, "why do you know so much?" And how, and when did you arrive, and why did you style your hair differently, and--

She never voiced the multitude of questions at once -- how could she? -- but condensed in her worried expression was the most troublesome question of all.

Did the aliens do something to you?

[forsworn]

Amusingly enough, Kratos was totally unaware of the disconnect, the bizarre way in which his conversation with Lloyd was carrying out. That strange amalgamation of coldness and warmth was just how things were, the result of their tumultuous relationship that would otherwise be cordial were it not rife with betrayal--that part was entirely his fault, though.

It was also the result of denial. Even though he had accepted that Lloyd was his son, he was trying very hard to act as if that was not the case. Unfortunately, the relation that he had long since accepted still leaked unknowingly into his behavior, and tinged everything he said and did around Lloyd with a note of buried affection.

If he were thinking coherently, Kratos might have noticed and corrected what was otherwise a very noticeable flaw in his facade, but alas: thinking coherently and Lloyd were rarely compatible.

"Easier said than done," he said with just a hint of exasperation. "Do you think no one has ever considered and attempted doing that before? Besides, an impenetrable barrier surrounds the entire building; even if everyone in the building were to regain their former abilities, they would still be trapped within the grounds of the institute."

He sincerely hoped that Lloyd would listen to what he was intending to be reason and not a bout of cynicism. It was bad enough that the boy had run into nasty trouble the night before; better for him to actually take a step back and comprehend the situation he was in before plunging headfirst into accomplishing whatever goal he'd set his mind to--which would be totally uncharacteristic of Lloyd and probably required more maturity than he possessed at the moment. But, he could dream.

...that sounded stupid even as he thought of it.

Kratos allowed himself to focus on things other than Lloyd as Ishida attempted to convince his son (and still used his family name, he noticed) that he could trouble Inoue to heal him. He noted the boast about her power, and briefly recalled another girl present with incredible healing ability. That seemed to be a thing here, but he could hardly object to it. Healers were rarities and desperately needed.

In turn, Inoue scolded Ishida about not taking his own advice, and that gave him the opportunity to really, actually look at Ishida's face and see the spectacular black eye he was sporting. He had seen it earlier, when they'd first (re)met, but it had only registered fleetingly; he had in fact meant to comment on it, but a louder, more pressing matter had presented itself at that moment and completely devoured all of his attention. Now that he could appreciate the severity, it also begged the question of just what had happened to Ishida as well--gotten on the bad side of something, clearly, but how exactly...well, Inoue had already asked, to some effect, and it wasn't as if the answer was pressing. He could always ask at a later date, when they both weren't otherwise occupied with the arrival of old acquaintances.

[redcladidealist]

That failure to use his first name didn't go unnoticed by Lloyd. He frowned, not understanding the levels of formality that the other had with names. "No, I mean it. You can call me Lloyd. People only use my last name when I'm in trouble." Where he came from, almost everyone went by their given name. It was given to them for a reason, after all. Why wouldn't they want people to use it? Even beyond that, it would get pretty confusing if someone had a brother or a sister, not to mention their parents or their kids. They couldn't all be called the same name. Given names just made sense - so much so that Lloyd didn't even think about the fact that it might be different in other cultures or other worlds.

Likewise, too used to the name order used in his world, it didn't occur to him that Ishida and Inoue might not be their given names.

When Ishida commented on Inoue's eating, Lloyd's own stomach grumbled a bit - not loudly, but enough to make him realize that he'd been so caught up in his knee-jerk reaction to Kratos's presence, then the conversation that had been taking place since, that he'd forgotten to even touch his own food. He quickly remedied this by popping one of the bread-sausage things in his mouth, not bothering with a knife or a fork. He chewed the mouthful a few times before swallowing it with satisfaction.

"They're pretty good," he pointed out, in case Inoue needed someone to vouch for their taste. "And eating will help build up your energy." Which he was getting the feeling they'd all need if they had to stay in this place. Speaking of that, though... He hesitated. "I wouldn't mind if you could heal me tonight." He'd really only just met her. He wasn't sure how to ask, or if he should. She might need her abilities for someone else. "But like I said, I'll be okay."

He ate another sausage, then scowled at what Kratos seemed to be implying. "I'm not going to give up just because you think it's impossible. I already made it outside the building once, I can do it again another night." Another night, because he knew that even if he was healed, he couldn't go out there by himself. If he'd run into that monster by himself last night, he was pretty sure he'd be dead. It wouldn't hurt if he got better weapons, too, but he had no idea where he'd find them. He'd been lucky to get a knife from Claude. Unless he could find where they were keeping his swords...

Maybe he'd spend tonight indoors, searching and getting a feel for the building. Despite evidence to the contrary, he could make plans that weren't completely reckless. Maybe he could find something useful.

But back to the point he'd been trying to make. "Besides, even if no one's succeeded before, that doesn't mean there's no point in trying." One of the things that had always bothered him about Kratos was the man's tendency to be pessimistic. Even now, when Lloyd still felt the sharp pain of betrayal, he wanted to reach out and grab the older man's shoulders and shake some hope into him. "It just means we have to think of something no one else has done, or get enough of us doing it together to make it work for us."

[repelling]

Uryuu shook his head, immovable on this point. Or, difficult, anyway. This setting demanded more fluidity in address than he liked, as introductions too often were restricted to single names. Kratos-san, Kairi-san, Sora-san -- with nothing else offered, he had to swallow the concern that he spoke rudely. He knew well that given the difference in cultures, as far as they and the rest were concerned, it wasn't rude at all. Yet-- "It's too familiar," he said, adamant. "To address Irving-san with his first name would be suggestive of either an intimate friendship, or mark me as a terribly coarse person."

"Of course," he added with a glance at Kratos-san, "if you'd only given your first name, I'd have had no choice."

Too bad for Irving-san; Uryuu did not intend to pretend. The other topics at hand far outweighed that of address, so he did not anticipate an extended protest. Uryuu focused on Inoue-san, glad she did not finish her deference, but caught off guard by her threat. Such a serious tone offset by the mirth bright in her eyes, and he took a moment to string together a reply, his mouth twitching even as he lifted a dismissive hand.

"Inoue-san, I don't want your fruit cup. As generous a bribe as that is. Besides, it really isn't-- Inoue-san doesn't need to waste her energy on a bruise." Continuing to pretend as though the bandages that reached over his shoulder were not just visible past his shirt collar. As far as he chose to see it, Irving-san's injuries were assuredly worse. At the very least, if it happened tonight and Inoue-san could still heal, she ought to focus on Irving-san. Her limitations might be such that that alone exhausted her.

Rather than detailing all that, he shifted his approach. Irving-san had just about conceded, so- smoothly, "If Inoue-san's willing and able, then everything can be seen to tonight. Otherwise, neither of us will be at our best, promising worse if something else attacks."

And if Inoue-san looked to be tiring, he could slip away before she tried to push herself too hard.

Her admission of no appetite concerned him, though not to a tremendous degree as it was a natural reaction to this mess. The issue being as Irving-san said: energy. Uryuu felt a minutia of gratitude toward him, even if he did set an example without utensils. Perhaps they were finger food. Still, one should probably chew, and Uryuu looked askance at Inoue-san as she appeared to forget that.

On the other end of the conversation, Kratos-san made just the points Uryuu had considered, and with them introduced a barrier. The way Kratos-san spoke, it must have been tested by some with their abilities unfettered. Was it also responsible for dragging everyone back to bed come morning? Did it reach far into the forest and beyond? As he wondered, Irving-san favored optimism. At first, Uryuu felt skeptical, thinking he'd missed the mark--getting outside wasn't much of an accomplishment and the barrier must extend there as well.

As he went on, however, Uryuu knew he had a point. After all- "Most great endeavors have taken countless failures before success," he mused. "Edison and his lightbulbs. "Every wrong attempt is another step forward," and "I've not failed, only found 10,000 ways that won't work.""

Uryuu did not think of himself as either an optimist or inspired. Only as pragmatic. "It is counterproductive to begin with a defeatist attitude. Of course, it is no less destructive to rush into things or dismiss the magnitude of the task."

His fruit cup might have been lost to the floor (and he resisted the compulsion to pick it up and use some of his napkin scraps to clean any fallen syrup and fruit), but Uryuu still had his water, and he sipped it now. He swallowed as Inoue-san questioned him, and frowned, wishing that he did know so much. Unfortunately, though he could read a number of queries in her single question, he did not intuit the most important of them, having little affinity for aliens.

"I don't," he said, at first the words picked with slow care, "I've only been aware of being here a few days. The staff, of course, answer no questions, so everything I know I have been told by other "patients". Most of that can be gleaned from a day and night spent here. Very little is known. There are far more questions than answers."

Another sip of water, followed by a heavy, dramatic pause.

"Shall I explain, then? This institute of Landel's. The lie of the day, and the horror of the night."



[ ooc: can you tell he wants to make his Big Speech ]

[faeth]

Lloyd-san's considerate show of digging into his own breakfast was more than enough to persuade her, and she started to eat as they all talked. Little bites, but bites that would build up her energy nevertheless (and they were good now that she had the chance to actually chew them, better than she thought pigs-wrapped-in-quilts would otherwise be). Orihime caught Ishida-kun's careful, criticizing eye, and accompanied a thoughtful chew with a sip of milk to emphasize that it was okay -- that there was nothing to concern himself about. Her fruit cup, however, remained untouched.

"I'm both willing and able to heal you, Lloyd-san." Her voice was resolute by the time she finished her next bite, and when she looked at him, her smile didn't falter even if able was still very much in the unknown. "I'll take care of your injuries, and Ishida-kun's, too." It wasn't a topic for discussion, if the way she pointedly did not turn to her classmate as she spoke was of any indication. Her smile only widened into a toothy, silly looking thing when she continued, unabashed and bold. "After all, he keeps speaking so highly of my abilities. They mustn't be so incredible if he thinks I'm incapable of healing a simple bruise, don't you think?"

His bruise, and the wounds beneath those bandages under his shirt, too.

It occurred to her as she sat there, just what a diverse collection of people she was currently dining with. Kratos-san with his weary cynicism, with an attitude borne of harsh realities and lost causes, was as much of an unconventional angel as he was the devil's advocate. Lloyd-san with his enthusiasm, with his dedication found innate in all would-be heroes, smiled with a belief that could move masses to act and probably did on his alien planet -- or so Orihime had no trouble believing. And then there was Ishida-kun, with his rationality, his unquestioning honesty, his uncanny ability to bring everything together, even the optimism and the cynicism, together at the seams.

It was interesting, she thought, impressed and swayed by their respective extremes. Though optimism usually became her, she understood that it was imperative that they reviewed the entire picture before making any further assumptions -- and so she stopped herself.

She hoped, but dared no further.

"Yes." She was restless again, but she tried very hard to not fidget, to not scatter crumbs on the floor in the off-chance that there really were piglets running around the place, frightened and hungry. "If Ishida-kun doesn't mind telling the story, I-

"...it would be very much appreciated."