damned_institute | Day 37: Breakfast

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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.

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Forte woke up with a start, to the chipper voice of the head doctor. After taking a moment to recall what had happened the night before, his anger and frustration rose again. He was muttering under his breath when he realized he didn't even have his dog to confide in. He hadn't even thought about Gospel much since arriving in this nightmare, but he realized he missed the mutt for more reasons than fighting ability. He wouldn't admit it to himself, but the way his training session had ended just made him feel useless again. If he couldn't even fight, or block a single real punch after training to do so the whole night, what was he good for?

He ignored the friendly voices of the nurses as they led him to the cafeteria, and got in line for food. A small blessing, he piled bacon and sausage onto his plate, with a small amount of some cubed form of fruit for nutrition. At least there was one measly thing he was finding he could enjoy. His eyes lit up - or at least, eased their sullen glare - just the slightest bit as he walked past a man that protested he didn't require food. He changed course to sit at the same table as the newcomer.

He put his plate down and started to angrily stab at his meat. "It's terrible, isn't it? The raw power robbed from your limbs. Solid alloys replaced with soft, weak flesh. Precision construction replaced with... with organic replacements?

Depth Charge blinked, startled out of his thoughts by the sound of a plate hitting the table. While he'd been busy piecing together some kind of plan someone had made themselves comfy at his table- a young male human, apparently, although of the few humans he'd ever seen up close he had yet to meet one with red eyes. In fact, he was all set to let his suspicion override his curiosity- until the human spoke, that is.

He felt his eyes widen. The kid had taken the words clean out of his mouth. Did that mean he was...? The idea of another robot trapped here... he looked the 'human' up and down warily. Best not to seem too eager.

Carefully, Depth Charge smothered the surge of questions welling up within him behind a sour laugh. "They call this a replacement? Smelt that- I want a refund." He paused. Something in his tone was harsher than he had intended it- more bitter. He tried again. "What's your story?"

Well... so far, they hadn't, they just claimed he had always been like this. But that wasn't really the point.

"You must be new here. This is a prison, or a confinement of some kind pretending to be a hospital for insane humans. Most of the other prisoners are humans or similar organics, but there's a few of us robots here... transformed or transferred to the false bodies somehow, to match the illusion. They want us to think we were always this way." Forte made no effort to hide his bitterness, but it was comforting to be talking to someone who understood - or would, soon enough. He tore into some sausage while he waited to see how how this one would respond.

Depth Charge leaned forward onto the table, arms folded. "All I know is that I died and woke up here." He glanced over his shoulder, watching the gathering of humans slowly grow as more people entered the cafeteria. "Name's Depth Charge. Or at least it used to be- the female who brought me here called me Mr. Price."

As he spoke he felt his eyes being drawn to the other 'bot's plate, food glistening, the skin of the sausage splitting. How could he even think about swallowing that?

The boy noticed his eyes looking at the plate with disgust, and he sympathized. "I'm Forte. And you're still Depth Charge. It seems like everyone gets a fake name and a fake life. And I know this method of refueling seems crass and inefficient, but it's necessary for humans. These bodies seem to be in a constant state of self-repair, and both fuel and materials have to be consumed several times each day." At least, that's how they seemed to work as far as Forte could tell - he kept eating meat and the meat on his foot fixed itself.

Depth Charge coughed and controlled his face quickly- if a picture says a thousand words, his must have been a work of art. "Figures. Couldn't make it easy on me, huh?" He got to his feet and gestured vaguely towards the food counter. "I'd better get something to fill up on." After all, he reasoned, he needed to be at the top of his game- as nauseating as the idea of eating was to him.

What he'd give for a quart of oil.

He made his way to the counter, picked out a few things to pile on his plate- a strange concoction of whatever seemed the least threatening to him- and sat back down. With him he brought a knife, fork and spoon, over which he spend some time deliberating; eventually he clenched the spoon in his fist and stared at the plate almost expectantly. "... this is going to take some getting used to."

"That's the truth. These bodies seem to come with instincts that help, but I'm not sure if it's good or bad. I've been here a couple days, and I'm mostly used to eating. The humans have a great variety of food sources, which makes the process less monotonous. Besides, these sessions are during the day, when nothing really happens. You really just want to be ready for the night."

"The night?" Depth Charge looked up from his plate, frowning. Something told him that there was more to it than just bad food and an inadequate body. "What's so special about the night?"

"After dark, the hospital staff disappears and most of the doors unlock. That's when the prisoners can explore, but there's monsters and guards all over. I've only run into one, but... I wasn't prepared to fight in a body like this." The less said about that incident, the better. That's also when another robot patient got ahold of a book on human biology."

When he mentioned Starscream, it occurred to Forte that while no robots had recognized him, they might have come from the same world as each-other. And he did claim to be an emperor. "Have you heard of a being named Starscream?"

Depth Charge felt a pang of frustration. Just as he'd suspected- this body wasn't going to be work slag. And with what sounded like a rough night ahead of him, that was the last thing he wanted to hear. All he could do now was absorb what he could about it and do whatever the Pit he could to keep his head above whatever.

He had barely begun to file away this new information when he was caught off guard yet again. "Starscream? As in, the infamous decepticon Starscream?" It was impossible to keep the shock from his voice. He clung to the spoon more tightly than ever. "You're saying he's here?!"

Forte practically jumped in his seat. At least he liked the sound of 'infamous.' "I, uh... yeah... he's in the same situation we are. So he's really an emperor where you come from?"

Depth Charge snorted. "An emperor? He's been telling people he's an emperor?" He leaned in closer, shaking his head. "We're from different eras- my time's a few hundred years ahead of his. Where I'm from he's known as a traitor and a coward." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms knowingly. "Hindsight's a beautiful thing, kid."

The other bot chuckled, "He sounds like my kinda guy. Someone told me there's people from different worlds trapped here, but I had no idea there were people from different times. What'd he do, anyway?"

"I'm not much of a history buff," he said, "but he's a real legend. Kicked his commander while he was down, left him for dead and tried to take over himself. He got a cannon to the face for his trouble."

While Depth Charge was telling him of Starscream's crimes, he noticed a plate flying over the sea of heads (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/509905.html?thread=41068753#t41068753). He saw it was going to fly right over him, but watched almost in slow motion as a strip of bacon detached itself, and came right toward his head.

The comment ...to the face... was accompanied by a loud SLAP and Forte jumped to his feet. "Wha- who- HOW DARE YOU!?" Having long since finished the meat on his plate, he grabbed a handful of the moist, sweet cubes and flung them ~~fruitlessly~~ into the crowd.

"Basically, he's the scum of Cybertr- what the slagging--?!" Depth Charge gave a spluttering 'guh?' sound and hit the deck in time to be caught with a spray of sugar and syrup. "What in the Inferno is going on?" he hissed, peering up over the edge of the table incredulously. His hair was dusted with white powder and a sticky trail of syrup had splattered his cheek.

With the nurses glaring at him as well, and confident that the original attacker was being dissuaded, Forte sat back down. "I swear, some of these humans act like... like animals."

Depth Charge raised an eyebrow skeptically but didn't point out the hypocrisy. "Animals? I know animals- I was one for a while- and I can promise you that humans are a different crazy mess altogether."

Forte raised an eyebrow as well. He assumed that he'd meant a robotic animal, but it was still an odd thing to say.
There was nothing wrong with that, of course - ~~some of his best~~ his only friend was a robot animal, after all.

"Well, for now at least, we have to put up with humanity. Some of these prisoners have been here for a long time, and all trying to escape."

"Then they must know a few things about-"

Suddenly, Depth Charge seemed to give a strange jerk. It was as if he'd been struck by lightning- as far as Depth Charge was concerned, he might as well have been. In a moment of painful realisation it had occured to him that he might not be alone here: that somewhere, trapped between these walls, X might be waiting for him. He could've blasted himself for almost forgetting.

When he spoke again, his voice was low and hoarse and he spoke almost too quickly to hear. "The other patients. How many do you know? Is there a Protoform X here? He might be going by the name 'Rampage', but..."

Forte was a bit surprised by Depth Charge's sudden reaction to... something. Apparently, to the possibility that this 'Protoform X' was here. But he just shook his head "Well, there's a lot of people here and I've only met a handful. Mostly other robots, and none of them used either of those names."

Depth Charge's fists clenched tighter than ever. The absence of a circuit-driven processor resonated all the more painfully within him; without it, he had no way of tracking X's energy signature.

"So he could still be here, right under my nose, and I'd have to track every single patient down before I would know..." But now he seemed to be talking more to himself than anyone, speaking at a barely audible growl. "Perfect."

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Day 37: Breakfast

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