damned_institute | DAY 26: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

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DAY 26: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

Gluttony didn't want to leave his Lust, not after he'd just found her! But the mean tasty nurses said he had to. "You can't join her in the women's showers" was a bad excuse. He didn't like the mean tasty nurses. Maybe Lust would let him eat them later. Still, he knew he would see his Lust again, and that was good. He liked Lust. She was good and beautiful and smart and kind. Why did they have to take him away from his Lust?

Still, he would see her again. And she would tell him it was okay to eat the tasty nurses, and that would be good. His new friend liked eating people, too. That made him happy to find a friend who shared a love for eating people. Today was a very good day.

As he entered the showers, he stood under a shower head and opened his mouth wide to drink up the water. It wasn't as good as eating people, or eating waffles that didn't scream when he bit into them so weren't nearly as good as eating people, but it was still swallowing something, and that made him feel better.

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Sanzo scowled. That hadn't gone the way he expected, and it irritated to think that the other man had gotten a leg up over him, even if it was something as stupid as this conversation. And Homura still kept going with that bullshit story about gods and his supposed past life.

Sanzo turned his head back to focus on washing up.

"I don't. Piss off."

Sanzo was done talking with Homura, as far as he was concerned. Right now, he just wanted to hurry up, finish and spare himself any more idiocy from the man.

Poor Sanzo. The man had yet to realize that Homura was only giving him so much freedom in this matter, and that it would be up to the demi-god to decide when the priest was done. Still scrubbing away at his own body, Homura guided the conversation in a different direction, grinning as he pointed out the remains from Sanzo's efforts.

"Your neck is rather rather red this morning. It looks like you've been washing especially hard there." Yes, all that scrubbing had it's price, and Homura was there to collect the payment. "Just what are you trying to wash away that won't seem to go?"

Sanzo's hand stilled mid-scrub, jaw clenching. Even Goku and the roach could recognize that this was a warning sign, that something had just pressed several of the priest's buttons and the last of his patience was about to snap.

That fucker did not just say that. Sanzo was almost tempted to believe he'd heard it wrong, except for that fact it was Homura and the priest was beginning to learn more about how he behaved than he ever wanted.

Perhaps not a warning, but Homura did see Sanzo's arm stop, his jaw tighten--if he listened hard enough, maybe he could have heard the man's teeth furiously grinding. But he wasn't Goku, and he wasn't Gojyo. No, Homura rather enjoyed pushing the priest's buttons, seeing Sanzo whip out his gun and fire only to have the bullet bounce off of Homura's natural shield.

Of course, Homura didn't have that power in this place. But Sanzo didn't have his gun.

"Should I ask again, Konzen?" Homura turned towards the man, grinning oh so smugly. "What are you trying to force away? The small bruise I left you, or perhaps the feeling of my mouth against your skin?"

He'd hit almost exactly on the mark, on both accounts, and that pissed the monk off even further. What the hell other reaction could a sane person except to the shit that Homura pulled?!

Sanzo didn't even have anything in reply, other than to whirl around on the other patient. His fist snapped out towards the asshole's face.

Poor Sanzo. His temper was so obvious that even without all his experience as the Toushin Taishi, Homura would have seen that punch coming from a mile away.

His experience just let him block it.

He only let out a small hiss as he forced Sanzo's fist to the side with his left arm, quickly stepping forward in the opening left in the wake of the punch. Homura knew he was going to end up hurting after this, that it left him far too open, but in the end, he didn't really care.

It was going to be worth it.

Coming close to Sanzo, far too close for the mortal's liking, Homura gripped the back of the man's neck with his right hand. There would be no chanting this time, no words of protest as Homura's mouth crashed against the monk's, the kiss hard enough to bruise, and far too real for the priest to deny.

Sanzo knew how to deal with a lot of things that a priest generally wasn't expected to know.

He knew how to fire a gun, handle a few weapons, how to reload quickly in the middle of a fight, how to best take out a youkai (bullet to the head tended to do it), how to spot a trap. Sanzo knew how to survive.

This, however, fell under one of the few things that Sanzo wasn't prepared for. Sanzo froze, stunned at the feeling of the bastard's mouth - it was warm - against his own.

There wasn't even time to think about chanting a tantra this time. For several (to him) very long seconds, Sanzo did nothing but stand, shocked, as the asshole had the balls to kiss him.

Then the monk came to his senses, body already moving to act. The other fist came rushing right for Homura's stomach.

Yes, Homura decided to himself as Sanzo's fist found it's mark, kissing the priest that way had left him far, far too open.

But it was worth the pain that shot through his nerves, the agony of air being forced from his lungs as he stumbled back. Sanzo's mouth had been wonderfully hot, the flavor so human, but perhaps not so different from Konzen's taste. Homura only had a few seconds to enjoy it, but it was enough for now, the memory pleasantly burned into his senses for the wait ahead.

He smirked up at Sanzo, even as the punch left him bent over, coughing hard for breath as he forced out words. "I have--always liked your temper, Konzen." He kept his left arm protectively around his stomach, fully expecting to need his right to fend off further blows.

Mouth set in a thin line, a burly orderly quickly joined the two, a large hand on either of the men's shoulders.

"Break it up," came the low growl, the man seemingly unbothered by the water that was now soaking his uniform. A nurse watched on from the entry room, keeping a close eye on proceedings.

Sanzo's eyes were narrowed, glaring at Homura. It felt good to finally get a hit on the other patient, and the monk wanted more than ever to fully kick the crap out of him, not just be satisifed with that one punch.

Not that he was going to have a chance. Unsurprisingly, a guard had materialized at their side and placed a hand on their shoulders.

Sanzo pushed the orderly's hand off roughly. There was no way he was going to get sedated, in the middle of the showers and with the pervert nearby.

"I'm done here," Sanzo grit out. Done with this bullshit, done with his shower.

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[Heading off to the Sun Room (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/174008.html)]

There wasn't much that could spoil Homura's good humor, but the orderly managed. He straightened as soon as he felt that hand clamp down on his shoulder, not about to show weakness in front of the man. Like Sanzo, he shrugged himself free of the grip, meeting the staff member's eyes with a cold gaze.

"We're fine here." Homura glanced to Sanzo as the man left, then addressed the orderly in a dismissive tone. "As you can see, the situation has resolved. You can go away now."

"I'll decide when I'm going away," the orderly snarled. He couldn't stand uppity patients. This wasn't exactly a banner of a job, after all. Crap pay, long hours, and never any thanks.

"You watch your mouth, yeah? I've got my eye on you."

He took a few steps back, arms folded, and did indeed keep his eyes on the mouthy patient that had given him - what he considered - lip.

Their conversation cut off nearly before it began, Hijikata found himself being escorted again out of one room and into the next. He kept a weary eye on the twisting hallways they passed. This nurse was different, and they said nothing to each other.

It was a welcomed relief to strip out of the clothes they'd given him and slip unattended into the showers. It looked like a great waste of water, and some distant part of Hijikata cringed. The taps were labeled, and easy enough to work from glancing at his fellow prisoners. Soon enough, Hijikata ducked beneath a warm spray of water, the scrap of cloth from his hair tied to the shower head to keep it dry while he bathed.

"Our earlier conversation was interrupted. Do you have any qualms about picking it up again here?" He pushed his hair out of his eyes and glanced sideways at Homura, a faint smirk gracing his lips. He'd seen the orderly too. "I'm sure your friend wouldn't mind."

Homura remained rather unimpressed by the orderly's warning, barely giving the man a second glance. Of much more interest to him was the man who approached now, one of the two from breakfast.

"Not at all." At the mention of the orderly, Homura grinned. "Unless things turn physical, he won't care what we do." He began actively washing then, something he'd been distracted from while Sanzo was there.

"To answer your earlier question, I've been here a few days. Long enough to have a basic understanding of things." Homura glanced over at Hijikata with a smirk. "Has anyone explained to you how this place really works yet?"

Hijikata washed with the leisurely ease of someone who, under normal circumstances, would find a great deal of pleasure in the simple act. It would take more than this soft prison to set his nerves on end, and it showed.

"No," Hijikata admitted without hesitation, "Will there be a price for my enlightenment?"

He expected no less, after all. Soft or no, this was still a prison, and there were reasons for people to end up within its walls. He returned the smirk. His face was tilted up toward the showerhead, uncommonly peaceful and expectant despite his words.

"For the introduction? No." Homura smiled as he appraised Hijikata, both his body and his demeanor. Relaxed and straight-forward, qualities the demi-god could appreciate. "There are too many who would tell you out of a need to be helpful for there to be gain in it."

But Homura would be the first, and that held its own benefit; Hijikata seemed the type of man he could use.

"Every person here has been brought against their will. There doesn't seem to be a restriction on age, race, gender, world, or time. Even the dead have somehow been brought to this place." Homura knew this firsthand, of course, but felt no need to share this information just yet.

"If you have supernatural abilities, they have been lessened, if not taken entirely. The prison puts up the front of a hospital during the day, but at night its true nature is revealed. The doors are opened, and we are left to contend with the traps and monsters that wander the halls."

Homura closed his eyes, as relaxed as the man beside him throughout the lenghty explanation. "There could be others from your world here. You should seek them out. I could tell you if I know of anyone."

This caught Hijikata's attention and held it. So far he'd been able to deal with the prison's complexities by watching others. He knew nothing of why the strange things worked and he didn't ask because he knew he would be putting himself at a disadvantage while his footing was still unsure. There were few things that Homura could have said that would shock him.

This made no sense at all.

Yet, if they were lies, it would be too easy to for him to realize. Homura had said himself that the other prisoners would offer information freely. If he was not being lied to, or toyed with... For the second time since his arrival, he wished for Saito's presence. He'd already lost count of how many times he'd wished for opium.

It was easy to tell he was lost in thought, and the thoughts were not pleasant ones. As much as he would have liked an easy link to the other shinsengumi, he didn't trust Homura quite that far. Hijikata inclined his head. "Thank you for the information, but I have no doubt that they will find me if they are here." He clearly meant no offence, and he moved on, making a short bow to Homura this time.

"My name is Hogyoku Naito." He said, and managed to hold back a grimace at his own penname - it was known widely enough now that those close to him would recognise it immediately. He could practically hear Souji's giggle. He waited for Homura to introduce himself before he continued. "If the night is as dangerous as you say, I'll need to look into a weapon. Have you found that much in your time here?"

Homura was rather pleased with Hijikata's reply. The delay meant thought, and the response certainly showed it. Not trusting Homura with the names of his fellows, and possibly not with his own name showed an appropriate measure of caution.

And things just kept getting better, didn't they, as Hijikata requested a weapon. Homura certainly knew a few things about those.

"Homura." The demi-god offered nothing more by means of introduction. "And in fact, I have. There are people here with the power to create swords and the like called alchemists." Homura closed his eyes, remembering the fiasco last night concerning his own sword. But there was still gain to be had, as soon as he saw Okita and Adelheid...

"You will need to gather metal. There are several places to do so, but I know of one in particular. A group of us went the night before last." Homura grinned at the recollection of his second most successful night. "I'll take you there if you'd like. And to save you from having to guess at my motives, I'm interested in people who have the skills to escape from this place. I'm in no position to do so alone."

Homura spoke calmly, his words nothing more or less than the truth. He had no shame in his selfish motivations. Why hide them under some pretense of nobility or honor?

"Alchemists." He repeated, testing the word on his tongue. They would be important if they could forge weaponry in a place like this, and Hijikata would be sure to remember. If Homura could introduce him to these alchemists, there would be another important bond for him to make. He began working his fingers through his hair, dispatching of knots and tangles almost absently.

He wasn't surprised by Homura's motives at all. He would have guessed as much, and this was only confirmation. Hijikata had no problems with this. The situation would benefit them both, and the information he gained would be vital come nightshift. It didn't escape Hijikata's notice that Homura had not named the place they would be visiting.

"The same can be said for anyone here, or they would be gone by now." He replied calmly. His eyes half-lidded and on Homura alone. "The two of us tonight, then. Understand that unless it is a sword, I have no interest in dead weight, and if this is a trick I will break your neck with my bare hands." His words, like Homura's, were nothing more or less than the truth. This was not so much a threat as far as Hijikata was concerned - he doubted if such things would do more than amuse the man in front of him.

"Have they begun to organize, and if so who is in charge?"

"Yes." Homura took the time Hijikata spent in thought to run his hands over his body. He had a new bruise already forming where Sanzo's strike had landed in his stomach. A mark he'd wear in pride, at least until the time came for it, along with his other wounds, to vanish. But that wouldn't be for hours yet.

He wasn't stunned by the lack of shock at the selfish request. Quite to the contrary, he appreciated it. People who helped simply for the sake of helping were troublesome, and not honest with themselves. And of course, the other man caught on to the hint, which was good, since it had been rather obvious. Giving a nod to the arrangement--and yes, an amused grin to the attached promise--Homura agreed. "Very well. The specific weapon will be made by the alchemists, though I'll warn you against dealing with one who has golden eyes. He's a boy of fiery temper, and prone to making mistakes." Homura thought again of the sword he had received, feeling a tinge of anger, but only a spec, the fury quelled by the prospects that a child's judgment had opened for him. "Bring something you can carry objects in. Your pillow case will suffice for the task."

And a question that Homura wasn't fully expecting, that drew a sharper smirk onto his lips. This one was clever, likely a leader himself, and it would be interesting to see how he reacted to the Arts and Crafts group. "There is one that seems to be fairly together. They post on the common board as Arts and Crafts. I was in contact with one named Abarai Renji." Another who had been in the room when Homura spoke to Ed. Doubtless he'd felt the same sense of coldness towards the demi-god that Artemis had seemed to.

Foolish.

"You're used to being in command in your own world, correct?" It was easy enough for Homura to pick up. "Be warned that your dealings with them will likely be frustrating if that's the case."

Hijikata nodded at the advice, perhaps a little wearily. The last thing he needed was a hasty hand and a weapon that would become a hindrance when lives were at stake. Still, he had hardly put all of his faith in the night's excursion. His room was full of helpful objects that he'd discovered during the bug search, and he would be sure to make them ready before he moved tonight.

He could see that Homura was perceptive, and Hijikata was smirking slightly as he turned back to the shower. It looked like he would be contacting this Arts and Crafts group for the next shift. He didn't try to confirm or deny anything Homura had already guessed; the other man hadn't asked him any questions about it, and such would have become apparent soon enough.

"If they're as unreasonable as you imply, our dealings won't escalate to that level. My priority is returning home. I won't allow foolishness to stand in the way of that." It was almost a bark, but Hijikata hardly noticed. He meant every word of what he said. As strange as this place was, he had business to attend to. It came above and before everything.

He continued without prompting. "We'll meet just outside the cell block tonight. I haven't seen much of this place yet, but it should be simple for both of us to reach." There was no mistaking the derisive mocking in his tone when he said 'cell'. If they couldn't even be straightforward about their intentions, then this place hardly deserved more than scorn for the sad game it was.

"Then we'll hunt." His smirk was sharp. "Any objections?"

Homura closed his eyes, not finding the word unreasonable entirely appropriate for his dealings with the group. It was more of a conflict of arrogance; healthy egos had their places, but Homura didn't take well to being looked down upon by those he, well...looked down upon.

But something about Hijikata told Homura that he didn't need to voice this, and that the man would do perfectly well for himself. "A wise choice." It was the only comment he made on the other man's declaration, but his smirk told enough to fill the silence.

Homura had been about to suggest something similar when Hijikata declared a meeting place. With a grin to match the other man's, Homura shook his head. "None at all. I'm looking forward to it." And he honestly was, suspecting that Hijikata would be a good man to work with, and one to have on his side.

"As am I." Hijikata agreed. There were a few things that remained unanswered, but for now Hijikata was content to leave them that way. He knew a seasoned fighter when he saw one, and Homura was no exception; he was well built, his smirks and mismatched eyes belonged to a demon not unlike Hijikata.

He began turning off the water. It would take him some time to dry his hair and he suspected that the next shift would be a busy one. For that, he was pleased.

The vice-chief inclined his head. "I'll see you then, Homura-san."

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DAY 26: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

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