damned_institute | Day 26: Cafeteria, Lunch

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Day 26: Cafeteria, Lunch

Scar felt cold and sick, though more the latter than the former. As he rose from his bed, he didn't quite know which way was up, and the artificial light coming from overhead seemed as hot and as blinding as the Ishbal sun.

His head hurt, but that was nothing new. After all, the last thing he remembered from the night before was fighting a homunculus off of Lust and then having a conversation about events best left forgotten. The man hadn't been his brother. He just hadn't. And if what Lust had said they'd done to her was true...

Scar stood with shakiness that he wanted to attribute more to a bizarrely weakened physical state than a mental one. Had he been knocked out by some kind of lurking monster before the morning had come? He felt as if he had been out for days, being a veteran of such circumstances, though as he took the practiced role of being an obedient follower behind the nurse and orderlies that came for him, it didn't seem as if much had changed.

This place was probably just playing tricks on him again, and he was tired of being the man left out of the loop. He grabbed some food he didn't really care for and sat down, not seeing anyone he knew already seated. On one hand, he wished he had someone to talk to, and on the other, it scared him that he was no longer used to being alone.

He dug his fork into his food and tried to block out any related thought.

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Jolted out of his thoughts, Daemon glanced over at her in surprise, giving only the faintest jump of surprise. He'd been so lost in thought he hadn't even heard her join him.

Calming his nerves and re-centering himself, he smiled at her, the icy gold thawing a bit further at her words.

"River," he greeted her with a smile, turning his full attention on her. He could feel Renji growing closer once more and he knew the other man was being led back to the cafeteria. He seemed somewhat calmer now, as well. Daemon had to trust for the moment that he was alright.

"There are often webs of worry in my brains," he replied with a rueful look. I'm very talented at making a tangle of things."

"Looks like worms. More carbohydrates, though." River muttered and frowned, making a face like a child would as she picked at her food. And yet food was required, like fuel for a transport. But enough of irrelevant references and thoughts spoken aloud of dead worms. There was a common worry to be shared, and a common sickness that plagued them both.

"Mine too," she answered, simple and plain like the grey uniforms the chattering masses wore. It wasn't all that uncommon for her, at least not as of late when the bandage had been holding the wound at bay, but for a moment River looked lost, lost in her own thoughts. Lost in her own worries, a tangled web not unlike his own. It simply consisted of different threads.

Or the lack there of, in the case of the parts they'd ripped out. But enough of that. He could peak if he wished it. It was only fair play, even if she couldn't help it.

"They did a very bad thing to him here," she said suddenly, following Daemon's sense of Renji with her eyes. There was a sadness in her voice, the sadness of a girl who understood. Not perhaps the exact way or it, but results were the same. It seemed like Renji was the stronger of the two, but enough pressure could make him break, enough sessions with the doctor.

"I'm very certain it doesn't taste like worms," Daemon assured her with a smile. "It's actually rather tasty. I've never eaten anything like this before, but it's not bad."

He watched her, noting as she turned inwards in thought for a moment before he followed her gaze to Renji, knowing instantly who she was talking about and not surprised in the least that she'd picked up on his worry for the redhead.

"I could tell," Daemon answered quietly, lips quirking downwards in worry for a moment as gold eyes studied Renji across the room before coming back to River. "I'm afraid I did little to help the situation."

"No, but it looks it." River took small bite of the pasta; it was plain, but then she'd wanted it that way. So many things were over-complicated with sauce. Forgetting to twirl it with her plastic fork the second time, the noodles slipped off the utensil. "Mildly problematic," came the slightly exasperated mutter in response. Been too long since I've eaten anything that didn't come from mystery cans." No, she never had grown out of that habit of peeling the labels off of their canned food supply. Even when her mind had been cooperating better, if only because it irritated Jayne.
There wasn't much harm in it; they usually consisted of protein or unidentifiable mush.

Renji's plight wasn't something she could very well reveal to the world, and the thought of it alone cause her to shudder. Feeling the feelings, hearing the silent screams... Turn the wheel elsewhere.

"Stubborn and rash. Like someone you know." The words came easily in conversation, and it was always so hard to remember that it wasn't always welcome. Seeing came as naturally as seeing with eyes to River, and the missing parts...

"Walking through the gates without permission. Ignoring the signs," she apologize, looking back down at her food. "I'm sorry. I walked into your house without permission again."

Daemon reached out and tucked a lock of River's hair behind her ear, giving her a gentle smile. For as much as Daemon usually avoided physical contact, there were some that he'd never minded it with. Tersa had been one, someone who'd responded to the sometimes child-like affection Daemon had been able to show her, usually mixed with exasperated amusement. Perhaps it was because River reminded him so much of her - and the fact that she meant no harm -that she put him at ease, relaxed him.

Though her sentences were often disjointed and phrased in ways that made him pause to decipher them, he could follow her trains of thought well enough to understand what she meant.

"Don't apologize," he replied with a warming smile. "I'm not angry. You've done no harm there. My house is just not always a pleasant place to wander, Lady."

Thinking on her words about Renji, the comparison drew a chuckle from his lip, golden eyes glinting in fondness. "He is very much like someone I know. It's disconcerting and comforting at the same time. But I hated hearing the fear in his voice. I'm a stranger to him. I can't aid like I could if it was Lucivar. And if I drove him over the Edge to release the tension, we'd be stopped again."

River responded to the gentle touch with a small, if somewhat sad, smile and a quick flicker of eyes to the face before they fell to her pile of noodles. They were getting cold. They were always getting cold when they weren't getting enough attention.

"There are always dark hallways and corners. I don't mind them" River inclined her head slightly to the right, reach up a finger tip to brush along the opposite side where Daemon's hand hadn't been. "She's been warned that it's not polite, not proper manner befitting a lady. Intruding in someone's house never is. Can't help it. Too many holes."

Needles in my eyes. Simon, Simon. Where's Simon.

River flinched a moment. Days earlier she might've spilled her lunch like blood insides all over the floor at night. But the remains of the bandage... Tattered remnants of wrapping that had held a gaping wound closed. They were still catching the bits.

"They breed fear here. Get to even the strongest among the pack until they're reduced to monkeys. Brainless, broken monkeys. But they wouldn't let them. No, the revolutionaries hide behind their barricades. Won't give up. Won't go home until they shed the blood."

"It's not intrusion if you're invited, Lady," Daemon answered gently. "Make yourself welcome, if you wish. I've no wish to cause you guilt for stumbling through a hole. I have enough of my own clumsy moments, after all."

He twirled a fork in the pasta in the way he'd watched others do nearby, twining the long noodles around the utensil and lifting them to his mouth. It was a different taste, but not an unpleasant one, although he had to agree with River on how odd the pasta was to someone unused to it.

"There's strength here they can't break," he answered, his golden gaze slipping over the room, over all the strange faces, but recognizing that strength all the same. "They might try, but they won't succeed. Not as a whole. They've given a reason to fight, after all. If they hadn't, they might have succeeded in breaking people one by one, but it's too late for that, now that they've made an enemy of everyone."

Realizing he was thinking aloud, he shot her an apologetic look. "For all their power and manipulation, they've missed some important bits of common sense."

River smiled brightly at that. Someone who didn't mind her walking down the trails or drifting on the winds as they carried her. It was a comfort, and she didn't mind the darkness, the sides that other people might cringe upon seeing. River Tam was well accustomed to darkness, and darkness, the soul-eating variety, was not this one's only side. His darkness was a different kind. Darkness like the nightfall, at least with the gentleness he bestowed upon the fractured teacup.

And then there was hope. A logical analysis of an illogical situation, and he was right; they'd tripped over shoelaces, let others get the better of them. As the Jack strung them along, the King fumed in his quarters with the Queen crowned with falling stars.

"A few critical errors in judgment. Missed important details. Doctor was in a fuss over the missing Jack in his deck," River chattered delightedly before a more serious, contemplative expression furrowed her brow. "But there are variables on their end, too many to solve the equation mathematically or even scientifically. Riddles and songs. You'll know your part. Always a bright one, Daemon. Warlord Prince with a broken teacup by your side on battleground of broken glass and stuffed toys."

River sighed after that particularly long, dangling string of words.

"It's passing the time until the battle can be fought that's the issue. Alliances and planning are all well and good, but a good reflex and a nose are better." Another pause, and a mischievous grin crossed her face. "I'm creating a social experiment to pass the time, if he'd like to be a part of it. Your opinion would weigh heavily, as it's an area of schooling you mastered."

Daemon blinked at all this, his assurance that he could follow her jumps in logic faltering for a moment. He'd understood the first part of her words, for the most part, but he'd lost her at the end.

"A social experiment?" he echoed her, looking curious and confused. "What do you mean?"

"I'm going to offer you two propositions, and it's your job to tell which is a more acceptable form of courtship when attempting to engage a perspective partner in hopes of copulating with them by the end of the evening," River said plainly, looking Daemon right in the eye without any hint of shyness. "Whether or not the intercourse is intended for breeding purposes is irrelevant. Whether or not the intercourse is between heterosexual or homosexual couples is also irrelevant." She didn't even wait for an answer before diving right into the proposals.

"Option one: If I told you that you had a nice body, would you hold it against me?." A brief pause.

"Option two, variation one: I find you physically attractive, and your temperament is favorable, therefore your company would be greatly welcomed, and I myself would be personally honored, if you would join me for dinner at my residence. What sort of meal would you prefer? I am capable of producing dishes consisting of any manner of cooked meat or a vegetarian meal if you're opposed to consuming deceased animal." River forced herself to keep a straight, very serious face as she spoke.

"Option two, variation two altered to suit the current environment: I find you physically attractive, and your temperament is favorable, therefore I would be personally honored if you would partake of my [ insert name of dessert option assigned to the particular day the subject is being approached ] with me this evening in addition to some intelligent conversation."

Daemon stared at her in complete and utter bewilderment for a moment. Had she just...?

For a moment, the words didn't matter, it was the innuendo implied with them. The compliments, the invitation, the inevitable use that - in his mind - invariably followed. He'd spent thousands of years playing this game, dancing this dance, until he'd tried to leave it behind him, but it had followed him even to Kaeleer. The coy and knowing looks from those outside Jaenelle's Circle, the rumours, the challenge he presented.

He'd spent his entire life being an object, a wild thing to be tamed, if a witch had the daring to attempt it. Few survived such attempts, but they tried all the same, when the horrors of the last attempt faded from memory.

But this wasn't one of Dorothea's pet witches that he had to dance to please, to accept the invitation due to twisted constraints on protocol. This was River, a female who flitted through the Twisted Kingdom with an ease that baffled him. She wasn't the sort who would bring this subject up for those purposes.

That didn't make the sudden topic change any less startling, however.

"What?" he finally managed to respond, his voice a hoarse croak, trying to get over the start she'd given to him, feeling as if he'd just been punched a second time.

River sighed as though the need for clarification was a childish request.

"It's an experiment. I'm attempting to solve the equation of romantic innuendo on the basis of seeing which form of courtship, with the intent to engage in sexual intercourse for pleasure and/or breeding and pleasure, is most widely acceptable." Romance, love, sex. It was clearly something like a mathematical problem or a scientific theory to River, as her curious gaze at Daemon's discomfort might imply.

"I'm going to integrate numerous variables into the equation to receive optimum results." River cocked her head to one side. "If I'm failing to integrate something into the process, it's be appreciated if you could at least think it at me."

"River," Daemon started, looking completely flustered. "There's not one common answer for that. It's not just that there are numerous variables, the answer would be different with every pair."

Raking fingers through his hair in bemused agitation, he met her gaze and tried to explain it as best he could. Somewhere, Saetan was laughing at him. Again. "Look, there's not a wrong way or a right way to proposition someone. Sometimes there are better options than others but it depends on the situation and the people involved."

"If it's just seduction involved, your first option could work, if there's mutual interest from both people involved. If there's only interest on one side, it will fail, but so would just about anything in that scenario. Seduction can also be carried out more leisurely over dinner or a walk or even a day spent in each other's company. The first scenario usually proceeds something rushed and passionate, which can be enjoyable, but the latter would often result in a deeper understanding of each other and perhaps a more meaningful... intercourse."

Despite spending 1,700 years as a pleasure slave, something about explaining such things to an innocent - whether she was eleven or seventeen - always seemed to result in him stuttering and blushing like an untrained adolescent himself.

"There can be a seduction in any phrase or activity, in any sort of courtship. Often it's even entwined in unconventional means. My brother taught his wife how to decapitate with a frying pan," he added ruefully, lips quirking as he picked an example off the top of his head.

River followed Daemon's every word, hanging on them like a student positively absorbed in a professor's lecture. The science of courtship and seduction was a positively fascinating one, but the math didn't add up. There simply had to be a common equation that would generally lead to success in most scenarios. It was troublesome.

"But there's no sense in it," River protested, particularly in response to the seduction of decapitation with a frying pan. "In all manners of things, even human emotion, there's an equation, a mathematical or scientific one that yields results. There has to be one that adds to acceptance of proposition and pleasurable intercourse to follow, if the persons involved have any sense of how to make copulation a pleasant experience. There just has to be."

A pause.

"But you're telling me, based on the example involving your blood relative and his mate learning how to sever limbs with a generally blunt object, that if I'd been accompanied by someone of a particular persuasion when I exterminated that army of Reavers on my own, that it could possibly be considered 'seductive'?" River used her fingers to quote the sword, looking positively perplexed.

Daemon didn't know what Reavers were, but he got the basic gist of her question. "It could have been," he replied thoughtfully, trying to explain it to her.

"Seduction is a dance, River. There are many, many steps and many different types. The style of dance could be wild and exuberant and passionate or slow and exquisite and intense or purely for the enjoyment of the dance. The steps you take reflect those of the person you're dancing with, your movements a counter and invitation to them, and theirs to you. It's a dance of your body and your Self and often your emotions."

"You can dance with nearly anyone, but occasionally there will be a person that you match with much better than an average dancer. Seeking that partner is what makes the dance so alluring. Some believe there is only one perfect partner for each person, and others believe that with the right combination of steps, a perfect dancer can be found in anyone."

Dancing... Dancing, River understood very well. She was quiet, thoughtful and less in disbelief as she contemplated those words. For once she felt very much the foolish child, the one who couldn't comprehend. Or, rather, the ignorant child being taught a manner of something that she'd never known. She could've known, maybe. If she hadn't gone to the Academy.

"She's always loved to dance, but for once she's not sure she knows all the steps," River lamented quietly, almost an admittance of defeat as though they'd been dueling in the first place. "It's not a general equation, not a theory can be proven. Each individual component creates an equation unique to the composition. Each dance with the partner means something else."

River hung her head. Sheepish would be a proper description.

"Her brother's little genius looks a fool now. I'm sorry. I never learned, and I just..." The girl sighed again. "I understood, but I didn't comprehend."

"Hey now," Daemon said gently, offering her a smile as he tapped her chin back up with a finger. "There's nothing foolish about innocence. You've an entire lifetime to learn the steps, they're not so hard. Most you learn are made up on the spot, when you get invitations to dance. There is no rule or regulation to it, no right or wrong way, you follow the movements your body instinctively moves in. It's a melody only you can hear."

"And it's not the time nor the place," River agreed in s wistful tone. People had made unities here, formed bonds, but she'd no one to dance with. No one save Sasuke, and due to his aversion to skin-to-skin contact, that seemed a hopeless route. And there was the storm to worry about, windows to board upon and door's to reinforce.

"I'll have to wait to dance that dance until I go home." Another face, like she'd just tasted sour milk. "But then having a prince on your head and living in a ship where folk are either related, moon-brained over another, or Jayne, the likelihood decreases by at least 67%." River offered Daemon a thankful smile. "It's nice dream though. Maybe someday when it stops raining."

"The dance pays little attention to whether it's the right time or place, River," Daemon chuckled quietly at the expression she made. "Sometimes it chooses the wrong times and places just to lure you all the more. Then it's merely your choice to dance or not, despite the situation. Don't rule anything out before it even happens."

His expression turned curious and he fixed her with an intent golden glance. "What made you want to ask all this now? Is there someone you want to dance with?"

It was so much easier to discuss this when he could pretend they were just talking about dancing...

"You're saying it's instinctive, then." Human instinct River could understand. "An instinctive dance made proper when two individuals attempt to combine themselves to form something whole, a perfect step." It sounded a bit complicated, but perhaps she meet a partner who knew the steps. It could then come as naturally to her as it did them. Schuldig was an option; certainly not Sasuke or Dias. Perhaps she should seek to spark instinctive urges to engage in proper, romantic copulation with newer acquaintances, ones yet to be made.

River blinked twice, seeming as though the thought that the mention of subject might seem strange to someone was downright ludicrous.

"Result of a discussion with a patient via the public messaging system. Varied responses and the like, so like any able-minded being interested in unearthing some form of truth, she began to dig." The thought was there... Someone to dance with. "Most male specimens find my lack of amygdala and abnormal brain functioning to be a hindrance and thus wouldn't consider the option." It was a day to sigh. "The options in the pond are very limited."

Daemon gave another quiet chuckle and reached out to tug a lock of her hair in playful affection. "They often seem that way, but you never know when someone may surprise you. I doubt your tangled webs will not affect your dance any, River. I think you are a beautiful lady and will make a beautiful dancer."

The compliment was meant as that, and Daemon spoke truthfully. He knew many people could be shallow and not see past the outside, but some could, and it was those that would see the true worth in River.

The genuinely touched smile, not the playful one but every bit as vibrant, that River considered her nicest feature was offered in thanks to the compliment. Her appearance wasn't as prim and orderly as other's, and she wasn't nearly as gorgeous as Inara, but to be called beautiful by someone, especially when she could see an idea of what he truly considered most beautiful in his heart, well. It was more than a comfort. Perhaps she even felt a bit shy, dancing along the road she'd come to find along the way.

"Would it be too painful to ask about what she's like?" she wondered quietly, gently as a girl or a dove could land on a thin branch.

A quiet smile slipped over Daemon's lips at the question. "It is painful," he answered softly, "But not to remember her. Only the worry and the unknown is painful. What she's like... that's not unknown. She's Witch. She's... everything. I saw every type of female that was wrong in two realms. The ones that were vain and selfish and power-hungry and greedy and ignorant. I watched the ones that were good and gentle and just get Broken before they came into their own."

"She was the one dreamed into flesh to make that balance right again. But she was so much more. She would have loved this conversation. She would like you. She laughs, and it seems the whole room lights up around you. She gets this mischievous, impish look on her face when she's teasing you, even though she tries to hide behind an expression of innocence, but you can always tell by her eyes that she's up to something. And when you call her on it she gives you this exasperated look and huffs at you as if you've accused her of something she'd never even consider doing. And then she often goes and does it anyways."

"She's caring and sweet and fiery and dangerous all in one. She will set to right any wrong done to an innocent, or unjustly, and she'll not stand for bullying. Unless she's doing it, of course, but it's often done in affection, like when my father isn't taking his tonic, or Lucivar's being stubborn about something silly, or Andulvar and Mephis won't let her try out a new trick."

He stuttered to a halt, Daemon being the one looking a bit sheepish this time as he glanced over at her with a crooked smile. "And I'm babbling."

River listened quietly, smiling that knowing smile, the one she imagined Wash smiling when he would talk about Zoe. Though it was certain Wash's words would be less elegant and more, well, Wash-like, but it was of the same make. Two people created for each other. Was that what it was like? To remember small, little quirks and habits. Daemon spoke of this Witch in the sense that she was all-powerful, one destined to balance his own world.

And yet what he focused on were cute facial expressions and for-your-own-good bullying. It had been so long, especially in light of recent ripped prides and broken selves, since she'd felt such a surge of light and happiness in a person. All at once mixed with a sadness because he wasn't with her; he didn't even know where she was. At that moment, River wished the world for the ability to read other world's, things beyond what lay on the scape of his mind.

"You are. But it's okay." River drew her legs up against her chest on the bench, seated facing Daemon like a child listening to some fantastic tale. "I like listening about you, about your world. About her." The images of his mind danced again, and River's smile grew. "I know I would've liked her too."

"What about your own world?" Daemon asked, watching her curiously. He recalled the young man they'd come to rescue the night before, and the way River had curled up in his lap to comfort him. "Were you and your brother brought here together?"

Day 26: Cafeteria, Lunch

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