damned_institute | Day 30: Cafeteria, Breakfast

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Day 30: Cafeteria, Breakfast

Hitsugaya woke with a start.

His entire body ached, but the pain was nowhere near as bad as it had been the night before. His injuries had been tended two with clean gauze and bandages, and he found every movement wasn't agony. He wasn't in the best of shape, but thanks to the miracle of landel's strange time distortion, he had mostly recovered from the vile poison without having to waste anyone else's talents.

And in his hand, still...there was the key.

He dressed quickly, sliding the key onto the key ring from his desk drawer and stuck it into his pocket. Whether the key stood to gain them anything or not, it stood as a vital reminder that they could succeed in this place. There was hope, as insignificant as it often seemed. They could beat this place.

That small shred of hope made getting up worth it.

The nurse who escorted him to breakfast was cheerful, and commented idly about how wonderful it was to see young Tommy Winters up and about again after his unfortunate run-in with a bad case of food poisoning. He smirked slightly, knowing that any lies the institute forced into their heads were only that: lies. He wouldn't buy it for a second. And on top of that, the concept of muffins sounded almost appetizing. While he still preferred his authentic Japanese cuisine, the food here was slowly becoming more and more bearable. He would have preferred a warm bowl of sweet nattou over rice over the mufffins, but they would do. The plain yogurt and fruit, on the other hand, was excellent. He piled his plate high with fruit as usual, and got several small bowls of yogurt as well.

Finding the most convenient table to the end of the food line, he took a seat and scanned for the new arrivals. New arrivals meant people who would be lost and confused. Renji did a good job of making a bulliten post last time...he should recommend abarai-fukutaicho do the same again this time.

[Waiting for Angel]

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Logan didn't register at first when the younger man sat down, caught up in his reverie as he was. That seemed to be happening more often recently, and it was a bad thing. He really needed to keep his wits about him if he was going to get out of here. Finally he looked up and caught the boy staring at him curiously. Logan sized him up; he looked muscular, athletic, but not in an overly-buff way, a physique not unlike Parker's, albeit a good bit taller. He also looked somewhat familiar, and the Canadian was fairly sure he'd seen him around the place a few times since his arrival here.

A thin smile crossed his lips as Logan suddenly realised he was doing exactly what the boy had been doing seconds earlier. He swallowed the last bite of muffin he'd been chewing and tried to push the dark thoughts from his mind, steering his brain towards conversation-mode.

"Mornin', bub" he drawled. "Name's Logan. I'm crazy. How 'bout you?" The tone was sardonic, but the smile was genuine. He was already getting quite sick of this place, but there was no need to take that out on others.

...Bub?

Wait, was he talking to him?

Startled, Clark blinked and then remembered that just because one of the meanest, shortest guys he'd ever seen was calling him "bub" was no excuse to be rude. "Clark," he said.

At least Logan's smile looked real. Clark relaxed a little bit, having a good feeling about this guy even if he looked kind of just naturally mean. Obviously looks didn't define a guy; Logan seemed pretty friendly right off the bat, and Clark suffered a moment of guilt for getting nervous about the other patient without even getting to know him first. Logan probably got that unfair reaction a lot.

There was a commotion at the other end of the cafeteria. Clark swiveled in time to see what looked like a bunch of orderlies trying to take on a female patient.

"Is that normal for here?" Clark asked, unconsciously half out of his seat to try to help before he remembered that he was surrounded by dozens of witnesses. He couldn't exactly swoop into the rescue without people seeing, no matter how fast he was.

The kid had manners, it seemed, or at least was taken aback enough by Logan's wild appearance to offer only his name intially, and seemingly ignore the finer details of Logan's somewhat smart-arse remark. The older man was just about to elaborate on his particular mood this morning when he too caught wind of the ruckus that was unfolding across the room. A young girl, hardly more than a child by the looks, had just decked a nurse. The animal within shared the sentiment, but the man knew that such an action would have enough negative consequences as to negate the satisfaction that might be gained from it.

Clark's reaction was pretty fascinating to watch. The way he'd almost reflexively jumped out of his seat; he too was the sort who liked to help, it seemed. And with a physique like that on him, maybe he too wasn't just some ordinary guy. Very interesting indeed.

"Normal? This place is sposedta be a mental institution, righ'?" He was still smiling, and was beginning to become more calm, despite the commotion. "I seen it happen a few times. Think some o' tha patients're 'testin' tha waters', seein' what they c'n get away wit', how far they can push Landel n' his goons. Either tha' or..." He could sense the wildfire in the girl, even from here. "...they're jus' startin' ta crack, ta snap. They can' take tha torture anymore." He sighed. Perhaps he was being far too open, offering his observations so freely in response to a throwaway line from a kid he'd just met, but he was still adamant that he would maintain the mindset that they were all in this together, and secrets, ideas, even opinions, shouldn't be kept from one another to a certain extent. He knew that some of them wouldn't make it, but if they didn't maintain open communications, maybe none of them would.

"Look, don' worry 'bout it. Ain' nothin' ya c'n do but get yerself hurt or drugged. Ain' worth it. If it were, I'd be tha firs' one in tha fray." He looked the kid up and down again. "Ya got a bit o' hero in ya, don'cha, kid?"

Clark sat down reluctantly. Despite his feelings on the matter, there wasn't a lot he could do right now, especially not with his powers on the fritz like this. Even if no one saw him swooping in, there was the whole problem with his heat vision - he didn't want to fry the people he was trying to help.

What Logan said did make sense. Of course there'd be people here who'd be seeing what they could get away with, or others who just plain didn't like each other and could still fight in a place like this. And...it depressed Clark to think about it, but they were in what was supposed to be a mental hospital. People were here if they were crazy. If they weren't, they would be, because Clark just didn't see how anyone could be that sane if they had to face being told their lives were lies or what went bump in the night on a daily basis.

Logan had good advice. While Clark had some minor difficulty following his accent, what he was saying was comforting to hear. Well, sort've. No one wanted to be told that they should just sit tight or get drugged. But it was nice that an adult was basically saying he'd back him up.

Not that Clark would need it, but it was the thought that mattered.

He froze for a second at the question.

"A hero?" he echoed. He blinked and hoped he looked like he was playing it cool. Lying hadn't ever been his strong point. "I, uh, I was just thinking someone should do something. I'm not a hero."

Logan could easily read the disappointment in the boy's body language as he returned to his seat and half-smiled to himself at that. He'd spent over thirty years working with various superhero groups, and could spot a Protector of the Weak from a mile away. This kid was something special, no doubt. That, and he was a terrible liar. But like Parker, he probably had an alter-ego he wanted to keep a secret. The boy was starting to remind Logan more and more of his roommate; perhaps he'd try and arrange for the two of them to meet so they could spend some time together not revealing their secret identities.

"Heh, ya don' soun' very convincin' there, bub. But don' worry, I won' tell anyone if ya are." He tried to block out the noise of the fight going on, which now seemed to involve two more patients, including the formerly-brainwashed one he'd crossed in the Sun Room two nights ago. Perhaps he was trying to make amends by standing up for the girl, fat lot of good it would do him.

He continued. "I got a frien' o' mine, he's somethin' o' a hero, but he's real insecure 'bout lettin' people know who's savin' em, so he keeps his identity a secret." He wouldn't mention Parker's name, especially since the Spider was sitting just a few tables over, but he felt no harm could come from mentioning the younger man's apprehension about revealing his identity, provided he didn't give enough information for this Clark to put two-and-two together.

"There ain' no harm in tryin' ta help people, 'specially in this place. Sometimes our own insecurities 'gotta take a back seat ta doin' wha's right, kid." He left that hanging for a few seconds; he always seemed to end up waxing philosophical when talking to younger people, especially talented kids like he suspected this one to be. It came naturally to him. And why not? He'd been around a long time, so why shouldn't he pass on some advice to the younger generation? Even if they probably wouldn't listen...

"You got a group ta run wit', bub? Helps ta have backup 'roun' this place at nigh'. Safety in numbers n' all tha'."

There was no way Logan knew his secret.

Clark kept telling himself that. No one like Logan lived in Smallville. He was the kind of guy that Clark would definitely remember seeing and he hadn't ever seen him before. Anyway, he'd been pretty careful about doing his hero-thing. Logan probably just thought he was the kind of guy who poked his head into people's business trying to do the right thing. That didn't mean he knew that he did all his poking around with his super-speed and his other assortment of weird abilities.

And all that stuff that Logan was saying now? Clark could safely say that he was taken aback by it. For a guy who looked like he had nails and milk for breakfast, he was pretty smart and - and wise. Clark already felt a little better just hearing it out-loud. It was almost something his dad would say.

"I don't have a group," Clark admitted. He wasn't sure he needed it. On one hand, it'd be easier to watch out over the others. But on the other, he still wasn't sure how much control he had of his powers. He could be easily as much a danger to them as the creatures here were. He was of half of a mind to just run solo so he wouldn't hurt anyone else. "...What's going on?"

By now he'd been completely distracted by the sight of more orderlies crossing the lines of tables, heading toward where the first scuffle had broken out. Clark swiveled around to watch.

Maybe it was just his heightened senses, but it seemed that Logan could almost hear it every time someone he spoke was talking to stopped to think. The boy had obviously taken in what he'd said, which was semi-impressive for an old head like Logan's. He decided he would mention the boy to Statesman, especially when he mentioned he didn't have a group.

"Me n' one o' tha otha patients're puttin' tagether a kinda...support group. Well, more o' a search n' rescue team, lookin' out fer each otha n' keepin' as many people outta harm's way as much as possible. If yer interested in helpin' out..." He cut his own sentence short as he was interrupted by the younger man. He too instantly noticed the sudden increase of staff entering the room. Apparently this wasn't just a regular disturbance. Something bigger was afoot.

"This can' be good. The hair on the nape of his neck slowly rose as he flexed his muscles in readiness for whatever was about to go down.

Clark shot to his feet as chaos broke out in the cafeteria.

For a dizzying second he couldn't tell what was where: he was aware of patients suddenly attacking the amassing staff, but he couldn't make out faces. Someone was singing in a language he couldn't understand. The noise in the cafeteria was deafening. Clark froze for a moment, and then found himself stepping forward:

"Logan, we have to do something!" he said. A lot of people, innocent people, were going to get hurt. While he didn't like being here or agreed he belonged, he didn't want to see patients or the staff get hurt.

This was interesting - he'd never seen a full-scale riot here before, but then again this was only his (fifth? Sixth?) day here, perhaps it had happened before. Either way, what should have been a minor scuffle between a single patient and a nurse before the patient was sedated and forgotten about had apparently become the catalyst for full-scale mayhem. This would end badly, he was sure of it.

He couldn't help but smirk as he clearly witnessed Cole hurling a chair and striking a nurse with it. It was an impressive shot, but he honestly thought a seemingly level-headed man such as the leader of a superhero group would have thought better than to get involved just for the sake of it.

He sighed wearily as Clark sprung from his chair. The younger heroes could be far too hot-headed sometimes. He resolved that at least he would try to keep a level head about all this. There was no way he'd let himself go berserk in here.

"Alright kid, just calm down. I c'n see ya wanna help. Jus' be careful. Try ta get tha smaller n' younger patients outta harms way, if ya can. An' fer yer own sake, don' get carried away an' start lashin' out at tha staff. It migh' seem like a good idea, but ya will regret it. Remember tha'." He stood, far more slowly than the younger man had, and stepped around the table to stand beside him, eyes and ears scanning for anyone who might already be hurt, or who had been sedated and might get trampled underfoot.

When she'd first took this job, she'd known there would be the occasional conflict between the patients and the staff. This was a mental institute, after all, and the poor patients were unstable sometimes. She knew that. She'd had training. And she thought she'd been prepared for it.

But then the situation in the cafeteria had gone from bad to worse within a matter of moments, and it was pure chaos. She did what she'd been trained to do, and she certainly had enough experience to handle unruly patients. But it was still jarring to have this happen so suddenly, and as she tried to reason with a younger gentleman, an elbow to her gut knocked the wind out of her and sent her flying back.

She couldn't call out for help as the orderlies moved towards the man who'd assaulted her, but the angry patients kept getting up from their seats, some of them feeding off the anger in the air and looking for people to hurt. Instinctively, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to shield her face. She was going to get trampled on at this rate...!

Clark shot Logan a startled look. Did he really think he'd just start attacking the staff like everyone else? He'd made that mistake once, during the nightshift, and he still couldn't forget it. He could still remember the stench of burning flesh as the mutated nurse screamed and screamed until TK "dealt" with her.

He couldn't hold back forever. People were going to get hurt. It was probably his height that let him see one of the nurses get knocked to her feet. The woman sprawled on the floor, trying to shield herself with her arms and trying to protect herself as the riot broke out in the cafeteria.

Clark ran. And it seemed to take forever, what was probably a few seconds feeling like minutes winding around tables and trying to dodge the other patients and the orderlies trying to restore order. It wasn't easy. One second he was aware of running and the next he suddenly found himself on the floor, his head spinning, white spots flashing before his eyes. An orderly was reeling back, shaking a stinging hand. Clark staggered to his feet.

He'd been been hit with a lot of things before, but he'd never been slugged...much less slugged and having it actually hurt. One side of his face felt numb.

Head swimming, Clark fought his way to the nurse. He dropped to his feet, trying to shield her from the feet of the other patients and the staff trying to contain the riot.

"Hey!" he shouted - he had to shout, it was the only way he could be heard, and held out his hands, trying to show he wasn't going to attack her.

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Day 30: Cafeteria, Breakfast

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