damned_institute | Day 37: Men's Showers

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Day 37: Men's Showers

I wouldn't really call this a locker room. More like a bathroom with lockers. The place was uncomfortably crowded, with almost every adult male patient being hustled into the showers at once, but Phoenix wasn't as annoyed by the claustrophobic, milling throng of bodies as he might have otherwise been. Every extra person was one more person who might end up standing between himself and Edgeworth.

He knew that the prosecutor would have a fit if he found out about this. He'd known since he'd tacked that first response up on the bulletin board. And in a way, he couldn't blame him. Phoenix knew that he jumped into things all-or-nothing more often than most people. At the same time, he had some kind of reality testing. He wasn't going to learn the basics of how to defend himself and suddenly decide that he was Rambo.

He found an unoccupied locker in the southwest corner and glanced around, trying to gauge how long he could possibly stall in a locker room, looking as if he was expecting something, before people started looking at him strangely. It would have been easier if he'd known something of the description of the man he was supposed to be meeting. As it was, all he had was handwriting and a military rank, neither of which guaranteed any particular appearance.

It's not as if there was a better way to plan this, though. "Yeah, meet me by the lockers. I'll be wearing gray and a smiley face, just like about a hundred other guys."

[for Hughes]

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Badou didn't think that grin was meant to insinuate something about whatever the man had been doing the night before, but he inched ever so slightly away just in case it did. He understood liking the pancakes here. He was developing another unhealthy addiction himself. But it was sort of creepy if someone really liked them that way. How did he even get maple syrup on his neck? Was that like the pancake equivalent of a hiki?

Before his mind could wonder much further in that direction - IwillnotpicturehimnakedIwillnotpicturehimnake-- wait he's already naked. Fuuuck. Cannot unsee pancake sex. - Ok, after his brain finished wondering in that direction it caught up to what the man was actually saying.

Badou snorted, mildly amused because he'd honestly never heard that one before. "Someone who rolls in crap and then gets blind drunk? Yeah, thanks for that."

And that was when Xigbar waltzed into the showers, stripping down as easily as always and making a beeline for the Gambler. He had a brilliant idea to share, and he just couldn't keep it to himself!

...but then Luxord started talking to the other guy, and that brought the Freeshooter up short. What the heck was up with that? He was nothing like the other guy! He didn't even have a super-sexy scar on his cheek like Xigbar did! So Xigbar stood behind Luxord, crossing his arms over his scarred chest and offering a rather sharp-looking grin at the guy Luxord was starting to chat up. Hopefully he could pick up a proferred hint.

Also, was that syrup on Luxord's neck? He wanted to say 'Sweet!' but even Xigbar had his standards when it came to puns. Seriously!

"I assure you, it was only a misunderstanding." He laughed a bit, as if trying to prove his innocence ~~and that he do not do odd things with pancakes. Maybe just the syrup~~. "He's not the sort to deserve positive attention or greetings as of late. That little insult just slipped out."

With the water running as it was, X failed to notice the very person he was speaking of right behind him, so he only wandered a little closer to the stranger, smiling wider. "My name is Luxord, I should add. I hope there are no hard feelings."

[goooood. ignore my repost fail, plz :<]

Badou's hair was doing a fine job of sticking itself to his face, good enough he hoped to hide the brief glance at the other guy in the eyepatch who must be Pancake Lover Luxord's friend. He didn't get it. They looked nothing alike except maybe the eyepatches. For one thing, this guy was old enough to have grey hair and enough scars to make something with a lot of scars jealous.

Well, he wasn't going to tell. This looked like it might be entertaining and keep him from getting raped in the shower.

"Sure." Badou replied, inching back a bit while he worked some more shampoo into his hair. "I'm Badou. This guy I remind you of is that bad, huh?"

Hey hey, the guy could take a hint! Xigbar pantomimed an okay sign, as Badou was certainly good enough to take a hint. ~~The 'rape' part was negotiable.~~

As for Luxord? It was good to hear the other Nobody's honest opinion. Not that he was shy about ever sharing said opinion, to Xigbar's face, but sometimes he wanted to know how much was true and how much was just an act to make them pretend they had hearts to deal with. With the other eyepatched guy's help, maybe he could figure it out.

...while he did that, though, he let his eye wander over Badou's body, pondering that. Not a bad build, sure, but nothing at all like Xigbar's own. Clearly Luxord was going blind. Or 'daft,' as he might say.

"Unfortunately," he answered, that smiling dying for a moment before returning to one more forced. He took his eyes off the man to begin washing more of that syrup off his chest and shoulder. Why did it stick so much. He would have frowned at how disgusting it was if he was not keeping up that smile. "I suppose it makes it easier to leave these walls when you are vividly aware of how the ones you call friends no longer have a place for you, as melodramatic as it might seem. Not much can be done of it."

He was quiet for a while, more focused on getting that substance off himself than thinking of such unpleasantness as everyone around him disappearing for someone else (Naminé for Kairi and Alita, II for Zelnick and ZEX... he did not even know where his little ghost friend was any longer, and Lust still seemed caught up on whoever had left her), as he'd really rather not think of it in the first place.

The syrup washed off, but that smell would linger, he noted dully. At least it wasn't such a horrible scent, if only a little odd. "Your name is familiar," he said, changing the subject. "Where have I heard it?"

Ok, well, that was a lot more disappointing than he expected it to be. At least if they started cuddling sometime soon he wouldn't have to worry too much about keeping Artemis waiting.

At the second comment, Badou stiffened slightly and tried to remember if he knew Luxord's name from somewhere too. The last thing he needed was to run into someone from back home while Haine was still being a fucknut and not the machine-gun-toting modified psychopath he called his partner. Realizing the other man expected an answer, he shrugged, face to the shower head while he washed the shampoo out and gave himself a second to collect. It was probably nothing.

"No idea. I don't think we've met." Now that he was mostly clean, he was starting to smell like his usual self again - cigarettes, something vaguely metallic, cigarettes and soap. It was good to be clean. He turned a little and lifted his eyepatch to wash the shampoo out from under it. "You two should really sit down with Dr. Phil and talk about your feelings or something."

As Luxord went on with his ~~womanly sobbing~~ melodramatic passion play, Xigbar rolled his eye and started pantomiming the playing of the world's smallest violin. For someone who didn't have a heart, Luxord sure had the whole whiny bit down pat. Kinda aggravating, really; Xigbar usually wasn't one for whiners unless he'd caused the whining, and yet now he was finding even that bit of tolerance slipping.

...and ew... Xigbar being his morbidly curious self, he tried to peek beneath the eyepatch, but of course, the angle wasn't exactly conducive to that. A pity, too; he always had a liking for the grotesque and icky. Particularly when he could then share it with people who had a weaker stomach than himself. 'What Shade of Green Is That?' was a particularly fun game when he could set it up right~!

For now, though, there was something else to do, which made Xigbar snap his fingers thrice in order to get Luxord's attention. "First o' all, we don't have feelings to talk about. Second, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to hang out tonight, Number Ten, but if you're too busy cryin' a river then I can't take you along. Left my galoshes back home an' all." Which... was rough Xigbar-speak, but hopefully Luxord could translate. The Senior Member wasn't exactly in the mood for explanations, after all.

~~If the institute was fit to Landel's proportions, X vaguely wondered if they had a small, whiny asylum for him.~~

Luxord was about to shrug off the name as something he had just remembered seeing on the board, even getting out a brief "it reminds me of glitter," but... Just what was the man doing with his eyepatch? He titled his head to see what was underneath it.

...oh. He knew that snapping in a z-formation. The Gambler turned and eyed the Gunner with a surprised glare that rivaled the one he made when roughly molested by that piece of french toast. He stepped back, closer to the redhead, when a thought came to him: had he been behind him the entire time and Badou had known, hadn't he? Oh, those... sughd98shid this was why he never spoke to anyone about what was going on inside his head!

Oh no, want the truth, sure you do, II~ This was why he never said it because he'd be called a whiny girl for anything negative and it would be brought up at every instance that he refused to speak truthfully afterwards. It was precisely the same as how he'd come to terms with finding the other a bit more attractive than as a friend, and II just instantly went and whored himself to everyone in a ten mile radius, most of the time right in front of X's eyes until he simply gave up out of pure futility of trying to win a game that took pleasure in mocking him. And then, once he decided to stay friends as they always had, II went and hopped around with Zelnick at every interval to talk about space and guns and cookies and plays that were supposed to just be between X and II, over and over and over and now, now! When X wasn't even making a pretense of being sad about leaving the ungrateful idiot behind, Xigbar was calling him, HIM, over dramatic because he was telling the truth to someone who wouldn't berate him for it.

Oh, he didn't even try to stop his fist from speeding towards the other Nobody's face.

Badou didn't really notice them trying to peek under his eyepatch. There wasn't much to see there anyway, just a thin jagged scar that ran the length of his eyelid and then some. Beneath that, *~*~mystery*~*~.

He had never really been one for relationships, but he knew enough about them to know that you should never, ever, ever underestimate a woman scorned. And from the expression on Luxord's face alone, he was about half a step from asking Badou to hold his purse before he nailed Xigbar in the crotch with a stiletto.

Since he had neither of those things on him though, the fist of an angry good seemed to suffice.

...And as much fun as it was to watch a train wreck in slow motion, he was still a little too close and guilt by association wasn't something he wanted to get into when the staff already hated him. He let Luxord throw the punch, but he grabbed the woman's arm and pulled him back away from his boyfriend. "You wanna be sedated before you can hit him with a chair? Fucking drop it, Precilla. You too, Dickshit."

Ironically enough, that was one of the few blows that Xigbar didn't even bother dodging. Maybe because he knew he deserved it, maybe because he knew it wouldn't hurt as much as other things that Luxord threw at him, he stood there and took it like a man. ~~Ironically, what Luxord never did.~~ The blow connected cleanly with Xigbar's jaw, sending the Nobody sprawling against the wall and making him brace himself against the wall before he tripped on the slick tile.

Then he looked up, and despite the pain in his jaw, still cracked the same old Xigbar smile, as though he found the entire thing intensely amusing. When he spoke, it wasn't to Luxord, but rather to the man beside him. "Told you, we don't have feelings. An' I kinda deserved it."

After all, boredom was the bane of Xigbar's existence. Considering that, a right hook to the jaw could be seen as a good thing- especially considering what all he'd been doing. It certainly wouldn't shut the Nobody up, that was for sure. Putting a hand on his hip and gesturing with his other, he grinned at Luxord again. "Now that we got that outta the way, can we get to the plan-making now? Or should we gang up on Smoky there for the bad nicknames?"

Ugh, that felt good. In the "yes, you clearly deserved that and it is a god-send to get it out of the way, you ignorant bastard", not the "oh god, I do believe I've shattered my knuckles doing that, dear lord it hurts, you wouldn't think it would pain me so" that he was literally feeling. Luxord covered his now red hand and made no move to show how much he did not enjoy the sensation; he'd much rather go back to grinning and acting as though that hadn't just occurred.

Speaking of, he must still have syrup in his hair and beard. He began to fix that, sliding out of Badou's grasp to grab the shampoo.

"I could handle both, I suppose," he said. "After all, I haven't yet annoyed someone to the point of pure hatred this morning, and I don't particularly enjoy the name Precilla."

Well ok, that only worked out in the most dysfunctional way Badou could possibly imagine. Now that they were best friends for life again, he should probably be going since he didn't really want to be caught up in between them when they weren't trying to kill eachother. He had a bad feeling about it. Like shower-rape-would-be-lucky kind of bad.

"Wait, guys, I have a plan." Badou said seriously, washing the last of the soap away and trying not to look hurried. Sort of the same way Luxord was trying not to nurse his hand. "You two can do your bonding thing, and I'll not be here."

"You're really slowin' down in your old age, dude. Gotta keep it up or you'll get rusty." It was a mystery for the ages how Xigbar, the one who'd gotten socked in the jaw, was nevertheless better off than Luxord, who'd done the punching in question. Either he had a jaw of steel- perhaps from jawing off so often- or he just knew how to hide pain better than the Neophyte. Considering Xigbar, the answer was probably 'Both, plus some other unexplained factor that no one would ever believe.'

Regardless, after Badou unveiled his plan, Xigbar promptly initiated his usual Restrain the Unwilling Technique, one that he'd mastered with Zexion. Namely, he darted around Badou, wrapped an arm around his shoulder, and leaned in close, so the man couldn't punch him as easily. "What's the rush? 'sides, it's great to have a pats- er, dude- to help the process along."

It was obvious that Badou had never learned the most obvious of rules for handling Nobodies... never, ever get involved. Like ferrets, they would drop everything to latch onto something ~~dazzling~~ sparkly. Or squishy.

That must have explained Luxord's attraction to glitter. Speaking of, running a hand through his hair caused a few pieces of the shining substance to fall loose. Had that been there all day and no one told him...? Ah well. His hair was short, meaning it was scrubbed through and rinsed out quickly.

"Forgive me for lacking the need to use my fists," he replied with a roll of the eyes. "I much prefer not getting my hands dirty, thank you very much." Besides, II was all bones and muscle--of course it hurt. Not that he was going to admit that, but the point could be seen in how red his hand was at the moment.

What he was going to do was join the elder Nobody in harassing Badou. Luxord calmly and slowly maneuvered his way to the man's other side while speaking, his normally charming smile sharklike. "And with that creative little mind of yours," this said while moving his hand to run it through that long, red hair, "I'm positive you could imagine something more interesting than the odd insult. You've managed heinous and tactless, thus far; try 'pensive.'"

Ok, so he was effectively trapped between two very scary very naked men without even a bar of soap to defend himself. And one of them was molesting his hair, which would have normally given him some kind of incurable disease except that Badou was clean now, the one time he didn't want to be. This was looking a lot like Tuesday.

Despite knowing that it was going to be futile, Badou tried to struggle free of their hold. "What process? Can't we talk this over? You know, without being that friendly. And with actual words. I mean, you haven't even decided who gets to be on top." So he was going to get raped in the shower and his nicotine patch was peeling and he really could not get sedated before he went to find Artemis or things would get really, really messy. God Badou fucking hated Tuesday.

Chances were that a nurse would be along shortly, much to Xigbar's dismay, but that didn't matter. The look on the dude's face was priceless, and he had to say, it was fun to finally get back into the swing of things with Luxord again. If he were a psychologist- oh wait, he was~!- he'd say that there had to be something screwed up about their relationship. The only time they got along was by ignoring their issues and focusing on something else. Hardly healthy, but then again, they were kinda frozen in place; people without hearts couldn't really change.

But damn if they couldn't make a really good show of it! Xigbar cinched his hold by sliding his other arm around Badou's waist, his own grin sharp and toothy as Luxord's as he taunted, "Heck no, we've already decided that. The answer is, 'Not you,' dude. 'sides, what more is there to talk about?" Of course, it wasn't like he was really going to rape Badou- or was he!?- but playing along with the man's very obvious, very pronounced fear was absolutely hilarious. He hadn't gotten to be horrible to someone in ages~!

If II had asked Luxord about it, he would have told him that was how any relationship worked, on various levels.

"Very true, that." The blond nodded in agreement, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulder more to hide the fact he was trying not to burst out laughing (oh, II. He just didn't know how to quit you) than anything else. "And it is always in the English nature to be kind to your..."conversational" partners. Are you implying I should betray my heritage simply for your benefit? Can't say that is very tolerant of you, now is it?"

If either of them had asked Badou, he would have told them Oprah was a viable option too.

As things were, the Jaws theme had just started playing in his head. Badtouch was imminent. And while just about every other part of Badou's brain had short circuited, his mouth was doing just fine. Probably better than usual without those pesky limitations like 'self-preservation' and 'common sense'.

He had sort of just stopped listening to what they were saying and started humming the Jaws theme because like hell his attention span was going to go that far when Old Man Eyepatch was making him the bitch. "Wha? I don't speak ponce. This really sucks. You're the first fags I've had in five days. I really need a smoke. I dunno if your world has them, but cigarettes. You know, little cylinders full of poison -" He glanced down at Luxord's endowments. "Bigger than Priscilla Jr. down there, usually."

Now that was just promising, and kinda asking for it. Badou was rambling ~~as if~~ and carrying on, and pardon Xigbar for thinking as such, but normally it took a little more effort to discombobulate someone. Either Badou was real out there, or Xigbar was just that good.

However, Badou had left himself ~~spread~~ open, and Xigbar laughed as he leaned in, gazing into the dude's one good eye. "Yeah, we've got 'em. Normally I have mine after, though." The only thing that kept him from moving in was because ~~Priscilla Junior~~ Luxord's assets had been called into question, and the Freeshooter had be be ready to get out of shanking distance at a moment's notice.

...

...

What.

It was not the insult that made the Gambler take a step back and cease his teasing, as X knew he was absolutely perfect in every way and the redhead was obviously jealous. No, it was the fact that a complete stranger had went and named his penis Priscilla. ~~Yes, he could say it. Or think it, as the case may be. It was just a word.~~

That? That was not right.

He wasn't about to take that without giving something in return. The blond crossed his arms over his chest and glared, not amused. "I could, of course, ignore such barbs and continue with this game, but as you are incapable of handling such a foul trick for more than a minute without breaking down into lesser brain functions, I shall find it in myself to release you, though not out of pity or sympathy or any such emotion. I've simply come to terms that you and Mushu do not deserve my attention."

That name would require some backstory, but he wasn't about to give it. II could tell him about the tiny, ineffectual red lizard if he wished.

If Luxord had been paying any attention at all and not being such a woman, he would realized that Badou had not named his penis Priscilla. He'd named it Priscilla Junior, cold water shrinkage notwithstanding.

"I'm not asking for your attention!" Badou shot back, having re-acquired some of his upper brain function with only one person trying to rape him now. He wasn't kidding about the cigarette thing though. He really, really needed a smoke right now. And Xigbar's eye was really yellow. Like a cigarette filter. Almost. Close enough. Mmm Xigbar's eye. Despite the proximity, Badou perked right up at the mention of cigarettes and their existence. "Really? You've got one? And a lighter?"

Never mind that Xigbar probably meant on his world. Badou was having a brief moment of illusory happiness.

And now Luxord was in the 'Rape is a metaphor because normal words like pain and agony just won't cover the amount of hatred I'm going to vent on your sorry ass' phase of the conversation. Which, for Xigbar, was peachy keen; maybe he'd get to see some pain being spread around. He just had to snigger at the 'Mushu' comment, though... it really was appropriate, given the situation.

Still, Xigbar grinned and nodded his head, lying through his teeth and yet sounding amazingly convincing about it. "Nabbed a pack, yeah. Hafta use matches, though; dunno if there are any lighters floating around." In his opinion, working up Badou's hopes and then crushing them would be not just fair for what he'd done to Luxord, but also a heck of a laugh in the bargain.

Luxord's venting would have to wait, as it seemed ol' FireCrotch here had stopped paying attention and was now blissfully staring at II's eye like he was five seconds away from eating it.

...that mental image was simply disturbing and he was going to pretend it never happened.

When Xigbar's lying came into question, however, the Gambler wasted no time joining in. "Ah," he interjected, raising his hand to make an imaginary point, "I've a lighter, do you not recall? Dearest Noah gave it as a gift before he passed." He crossed his arms and tilted his head upwards, as if thinking about it. "Never truly had a use for it, really."

Well, that taught him to shoot his mouth off. Except not. Badou glanced back and forth between them. "Can you spare a light? And a smoke? Come on guys. You don't even want them."

Day 37: Men's Showers

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trufax: this took about ten minutes to type out because I couldn't stop laughing

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