damned_institute | Day 27: Breakfast

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Day 27: Breakfast

Day came too soon.

Sora hadn't been able to find Rena, had instead been forced to crumple onto the grass of the recreational field and bleed all over himself, and hadn't even accomplished what he'd been sent out to do. What he'd been entrusted to do. He didn't know how he was going to be able to face Renji and the others, but he also knew he wasn't going to hide from them, either. That would just be low, after all, and he was ready to face up to the consequences.

He didn't try to make excuses for himself. Even though there had been a Special Counseling patient, they had managed to take her down by sheer numbers. The fact that he hadn't seen any sign of Rena was what had him the most worried. He hoped he could find her today.

The boy laid in his bed for a good while that morning before his nurse finally came in to collect him. She clucked over the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest and leg, and asked him if he was okay to walk.

Once Sora assured her he was fine (he didn't really want to use crutches, as that would just attract attention to himself, and he didn't need others worrying over him), they made their way to the cafeteria. Sora yawned and winced against the bright light of morning - it seemed even earlier than usual, and he realized why when they entered the cafeteria and found it empty.

The boy shuffled over to grab a chocolate chip pancake, a bowl of cereal, and a glass of milk (good for the bones, or so his mom had always told him) before settling at a table. He kept an eye on the door, hoping he would see Rena walking in soon.

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"Jango Fett." The last widely known Mandalorian in recent history. He knew next to nothing of the culture that had shaped Fett's success, apart from the fact that they were the last people you wanted to see fighting on the side of your enemies.

Phibrizzo beamed. "And what was his gimmick?"

Every bounty hunter had a gimmick, like that one with his "howling sword". What was his name? Oh, it didn't matter...

622 blinked. "He didn't have one. He just survived everything that no one else could." The Jedi had needed 'gimmicks'. And look where that got them.

Phibrizzo kept the grin plastered on, but rolled his eyes mentally. So this meant that he didn't have SKILL, per se, just luck. Pathetic.

"What did he survive, Mister?"

Yes, keep buttering him up- why not?

He had to think about that. It wasn't really common knowledge among the clones. Commander Akobi had found it interesting, however. "Several wars, serving as the leader of the Mandalorians, and over a decade in bounty hunting."

"What's a Mandalorian?"

If nothing else, he could at least learn a few local terms. Assuming this man was local.

"A race of fighters. They choose their leader by consensus over whoever is the most powerful and fit for the job. I personally know very little about them. I'm genetically Mandalorian, but not raised as one." And he had never really felt like he was missing anything important. He probably should have, but there just wasn't really time or the ability to think about it.

Phibrizzo looked him over. "You look like any other person." Then again, who was he to judge? He never paid much attention to humans on an individual basis. "You're a strange copy, Mister."

"I look like all the rest. And it's not strange for a clone." Did this kid think he was supposed to have Fett's memories or something? Why would he? You couldn't pass on memories like that.

Phibrizzo decided not to push the issue further and instead motioned to food before the Storm Trooper. "Is something wrong? You're not eating all that quickly."

"No." He hadn't been paying much attention to his food, once the kid had really stopped making much sense with the questions. He started eating again. It all tasted funny, but really nice, compared to rations.

Phibrizzo smiled at him. "Are you going to eat all?" He pointed with his fork. "Or can I have some?"

"I'm going to eat it. You can get more food here, can't you?" He had taken what food that was enough for now, and no more than that. It didn't make sense to take more than that.

"Hmmm," The child lord cocked his head. "You really are a no nonsese sort."

"Yes." He had been taking note of the rather drastic change between the overly cheerful juvenile personality to this. It certainly didn't foster any trust on his part.

In response, Phibrizzo lowered his head and looked somber. "I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, Mister. I don't know too many people here my age."

...or anywhere CLOSE, save Xelloss. Still, he knew the copy would take it in terms of his PROJECTED age. Maybe he'd shed that tough-guy act he had going on.

TK made a noise vaguely in the negative as he chewed his food. This stuff took a hell of a lot more work to eat than he was used to. "I have nothing else I can do at this point but sit here, so it doesn't matter."

Phibrizzo brought his head up, looking hopeful. "Does that mean I'm not bothering you?"

He needed to find something to pass the time with until Xelloss established himself within some groups. So far, TK looked like a promising toy, but if his dealings last night had taught him anything, he'd need to be THOROUGH in this screening process.

"Not entirely." He wasn't the sort to lie, especially if the truth was unflattering. He just wanted food and then to find someone else from the military or an affiliated organization, so he could find out what was going on. Maybe even get orders.

Phibrizzo understood the subtext, but pretended to be oblivious. "You know, mister, I can't figure out how they managed to capture you. You seem to be so organized and focused! And you said you've been doing this for your whole life! Did they overpower you or somethin'?"

He leaned back. "Though I suppose a copy can never surpass the original. But you said Mr. Fett was a good bounty hunter..."

Yes, a jab at his fighting abilities. That should make the copy twitch.

"I had... I think I had just died." He couldn't come up with any other memories that said otherwise. It was all he knew for the moment.

622 nodded. "He was. And I'm not as good as him." He got some of the highest scores in marksmanship and tactics out of those in his batch, though.

Phibrizzo nearly choked on his pancakes. Here he had been, trying to rationalize for the past two days why LoN-sama had decided to spare his life. Maybe she was in a particularly benevolent mood. Who else would have had had such power over one of Xelloss and his caliber?

"Died?" He tried to seem more shocked by the notion than the similarities to his own situation. "But you're here, talking to me."

He grinned, laughing it off (at least trying). "Maybe someone powerful took a liking to you! Or maybe you're a ghost!" He poked TK with a finger. "You seem pretty solid to me."

What was it that Mother could have seen in this one, assuming it was her will at all that brought them here?

"I have no explanation for it, but that's what I remember." It sounded insane to him. He couldn't think up a logical explanation for it.

"I'm just a soldier. No one special." He moved out of the way of the poke. He wasn't happy about having a civilian close to him in the first place, let alone any physical contact.

Hellmaster considered this. Perhaps LoN-sama had only placed him here, to interact with others for some purpose other than destroying this world. But if not destruction, what did she expect? She had created Mazoku for that purpose.

Curious.

There was the stronger and stronger possibility that it wasn't his Mother who had brought him here at all, though he dare not conceive it or admit it. To do that would acknowledge the presence of another, more powerful than himself, on the hierarchy of existence, which would make his being around very confusing and messy. If he even dreamed of openly stating it, he could very well unmake himself.

The only ones he would think could rival him for sheer power were Lord Rubyeye and mother; no other force could feasible exist. No, it had to be his mother who had put him here and she had to have do it for a very good and very intricate reason. She was chaotic herself, so undoubtedly things were going to be a bit crazy until he figured out her mindset. Yes, he only needed to deceipher her reasoning and then he would know her will and he would do his best to serve it. And since she had yet to object to his plans for destruction, surely, she was alright with the approach he was taking. Still, he would make extra certain that she herself was not called down from up high as his plans progressed ~~at least not while he was in her immediate presence~~. He would have to find alternate methods for destruction.

"Perhaps you are just a copy of a copy," He decided finally, sipping his drink. "And that is why you remember you death but are relatively unharmed."

"Cloning doesn't work like that. The clone has none of the memories of the original, and has to grow to the age where they can fight." Somehow, quite a lot of people thought like this juvenile did. Kid, your act is slipping again. Try harder.

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