damned_institute | 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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Why did he seem to attract redheads everywhere he went? Envy wondered this with something close to amusement. He wasn't outright annoyed this morning; actually, on the contrary, rather relieved to be alive and functioning, but still angry at his situation on the whole.

He almost found himself asking sarcastically 'You're not a telepath too, are you?', but held off. The others seemed to be intent on letting him know, so they could warn him (possibly in the future, threaten him) off the bat. This guy just seemed like a genuinely plain and good natured type. Though on closer observation...

"Yeah. Fine," he said, hesitant to touch his stitches, lest they do something unexpected on him, and he looked towards his neighbor, "Not used to this sort of thing."

The man beside him, upon observation, was rather short, not much smaller than himself, though- slim, long haired, rather feminine, though strongly built for his size. It was almost akin to looking at a color-tinted mirror, the faint resemblance. Except for the scars. There were scars all about the man's body; blade marks, they seemed, which all implied that he did not live such a gentle life as his soft face seemed to suggest.

It occured to him there in a new way. He was going to have scars. Envy never hid the fact that he was vain about his appearance. Not as most people are vain; for having a naturally lovely appearance, or for the care they take in painting up what they've been given, but because his appearance was his own. It was a meticulous custom creation; his in every way.

And now, he was going to have scars, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He smiled wryly as if this thought didn't disturb him, "Never even had a scar before."

At that, Kenshin had to strongly resist the urge to touch the cross-shaped scar on his left cheek. This poor young man had never had a reason to scar before, and now he was being thrown into such an awful place. Even if he made light of it, Kenshin could tell that the boy wasn't entirely comfortable with the idea.

That...and something else. There was a certain hardness to the kid's eyes that told the rurouni that there was more to this boy than could be seen at first glance. Interesting.

"Himura Kenshin," he said, indicating himself. If he could get the kid talking a little more, he might be able to figure out what lingered under the surface. "And you are?"

Everyone wanted introductions. He honestly didn't know how to conduct any level of secretiveness concerning his identity any longer, without the aid of disguise and a general separation from society. Trying to maintain multiple identities was near impossible in such a closed population, at least when he only had the resources of an average human and a little quick wit.

"Aside from the staff," He said, "Pretty much everyone knows me as Envy. And it's the only name I've ever really answered to, so..." he shrugged. That was a blatant lie, but he wasn't going to glorify his bastard of a father by making any note of his own birth name.

Envy? Interesting name. Of course, Western names were so different. It could either have been the literal translation (in which case "Himura Kenshin" should have gone around introducing himself as "Red Village Sword Heart"), or it could've been something else entirely. Kenshin wasn't exactly one to judge.

He smiled and bowed. "A pleasure to meet you then, Envy."

For once, not a strange look or surprised comment on the name. Either he'd misheard (though from his repetition, apparently not), misunderstood the name itself, or was just an overly polite man who kept his opinions to himself. The latter option was one to arouse suspicion; Envy knew from having been so himself when it suited him, that it was often the ones who were quiet and calm who had the most to hide.

That at least made the mood easier to match, in his own personal way, and he returned a casual half-smile, "Yeah, same." He combed his fingers through his long hair, cursing the inconvenience of the way it knotted and caught. There were nurses that had been giving haircuts and shaves (oddly, he hadn't grown any facial hair since arriving; a strange detail considering that his his body had defaulted to a male form when he was trapped in this weakened state.) but he wasn't going to give up one of the few unique touches he'd retained from his pet masterpiece.

"How long you been here?" he asked. He hadn't seen this guy around, save maybe once or twice in the past day.

DAY 26: Men's Showers (Second Shift)

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