Day 37: Breakfast

[for Sylar, I believe]

At the sound of the intercom, Wally jerked awake and blinked around at the room. He’d fallen asleep. He should have been up and keeping an eye open for ZEX, but he’d fallen asleep waiting on his bed.

“Idiot,” he groaned, ruffling his hair and sighing in annoyance. “Way to help a guy out, hotshot.” Hopefully ZEX hadn’t dropped by and thought he’d left or something, or wouldn’t be too mad at him for just forgetting about it like that. If he was lucky, he’d be able to catch up with the other patient at some point and explain what had happened.

Rolling himself a little awkwardly out of the bed, Wally took the opportunity to stretch his injured leg and test how well it was holding up. It was feeling a bit better, not so much that he could abandon his crutch or that it didn’t pull painfully if he wasn’t careful, but better. Tony had apparently made it through the night in one piece as well, which was a relief. He really didn’t feel comfortable about the thought of his roommate wandering about on his own with an injured arm. Not when Wally himself could relax and fall asleep in the apparent safety of their room.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to let himself forget that one in a hurry.

It was at that moment that the door swung open to admit one of the nurses. She seemed surprised to find him awake and ready to go already, but smiled warmly. “Hungry, are we Mr. West? Well in that case, let’s get you to the cafeteria. The staff have provided some delicious French Toast as well as a range of other foods I’m sure you’ll like. Now will you be needing a hand with your leg, dear?”

“No thanks, I can handle it,” Wally replied, smiling back. After all, it probably wasn’t the nurses’ fault that this place was so messed up, so it wasn’t like picking fights with them would do anything. With a cheery wave goodbye, Wally slowly made his way to the cafeteria, keeping a tight grip on his crutch all the while. Obtaining a plate of food was only slightly less difficult than it had been yesterday – he didn’t have the painkillers to work around this time – but he managed well enough, coming away from the buffet with a tray containing a plate piled high with slices of French Toast and slathered in maple syrup, butter, and sugar, as well as a glass of juice. Not quite as good as some coffee would be right now, but the sugar would hopefully make up for it. And, with how few people were here at the moment, he could afford to take more food than might have been considered ‘normal’ – he’d have most of it gone by the time anyone came to keep him company, then he could just worry about how many extra serves would be allowed before he aroused suspicion.

Feeling pretty happy with how things were looking so far, Wally hummed faintly to himself as he dug in to his breakfast.

[identity profile] theycutitout.livejournal.com 2008-11-20 04:05 pm (UTC)(link)
"A dish typically eaten at breakfast. Popular on Earth That Was. Comprised of ovums surrounded by layers of membrane to preserve the nutrients inside. Typically opaque white liquid produced by the mammary glands of female mammals is added as well in the mixture until it's used to coat the leaven bread and fried until it's golden brown," River recited, just as though she were reading from a book. Finally, she turned to look at Tyki as though the problem should be crystal clear to him by now. When she found that he caught her meaning, she simply sighed.

"It isn't healthy." There. A simple explanation.

[identity profile] tyki-pon.livejournal.com 2008-11-20 07:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Tyki offered River a blank stare as she told him everything that could possibly be told about toast, realizing that he had learned more about toast in the past minute than he had in his whole life.

"Oh." came the reply, and the Noah realized he had probably made more intelligent impressions than he had just done. As for the toast, he couldn't care any less. As long as it filled his stomach, it didn't matter if it was healthy enough. After all there were times the vagabond would be happy with pig slop.

Considering he couldn't think of a response that didn't sound like his brain had gone wherever his Noah was hanging out during the day, he opted for changing the subject.

"So uh...how long have ya been here?" When in doubt, go for small talk.

[identity profile] theycutitout.livejournal.com 2008-11-21 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
"Two hours. 45 minutes and 11.3 seconds," came River's automatic and eerily instant reply. She looked thoughtful for a moment before adding. "That I can consciously recall in a wakeful status." She kept her eyes locked on Tyki for several, long moments before following up a semi-similar question. Semi and not at all, when the thought was to be had.

"Roll up in pie crust and filled with blood," she mumbled eerily, eyes drifting slowly to the floor and then back up again. "How long have you been?"

[identity profile] tyki-pon.livejournal.com 2008-11-21 08:15 am (UTC)(link)
Aside from the extremely precise answer, it looked like she hadn't been here very long. He was just about to answer when she mumbled something, and he blinked.

Pie crust and blood? Tyki didn't entirely follow the girl, and he couldn't help but wonder what the hell she was talking about. If anything, the words definitely confused him.

"Here?" he answered to the question, scratching his head somewhat confused. "About five days I think." Which was pretty long already.

[identity profile] theycutitout.livejournal.com 2008-11-22 12:35 am (UTC)(link)
River shook her head, regarding Tyki sadly. He didn't see the nothing all around him. He didn't. Did any of them? Still, there could be an attempt. She reached out, slowly as though trying to pet a snarling animal. Nevertheless, her hand did not shake.

"How long have you been?" she repeared, her eyes fully focused on his through whatever shield the glasses provided.

[identity profile] tyki-pon.livejournal.com 2008-11-22 04:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Tyki once again stared at the girl from beyond his glasses, watching her reach out. He again tried to figure out what the hell she meant, but couldn't think of anything.

"Been what?" he asked. Did it have something to do with the pie crust and blood she had just mentioned? In any case, she'd better clarify herself soon if she expected the Noah to understand, because it really wasn't making any sense to him.