damned_institute | Day 37: Intercom, Evening

"And I believe it's time to start wrapping up the day," was what the Head Doctor said after the intercom's initial jingle. "Now that everyone's all cleaned up, I think it's time for some... that's right, dinner!

"Tonight, we're serving some scrumptuous rotisserie herb chicken, seasoned with rosemary, lemon juice, and other delicious seasonings. On the side, we have cooked asparagus with bits of grilled onion, as well as small roasted potatoes with garlic and butter; for dessert, we'll be serving vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup on top. Our normal assorted drinks and specialized diet alternatives are available.

"Some of you might find that you have new roommates since your old ones were fortunate enough to recover and leave us. Hopefully, you'll be able to see them again the next time we have visitors if you wish, but in the meantime please treat your new bunkmates kindly.

"I believe that's all for now. I hope you had a wonderful day and that you have a delicious dinner! ...Well, you'll definitely be having a delicious dinner, but there's nothing surprising about that, is there? Hahaha..."

With a seemingly good-natured chuckle, the Head Doctor turned off his mic.

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Maybe if Momo ignored her, Anya would go away. The bullies in Rukongai did when she was growing up... before Hitsugaya started getting over-protective and stepping in.

The shinigami pulled the covers tighter and rolled away from Anya so she was facing the wall. Please, leave me alone...

When Anya was mostly done with her meal, she put her fork down and hopped onto her own bed. She stared at the wall with its little tick mark for a long time, debating whether she wanted to add up the proper amount of tick marks.

No, that would be boring.

But she didn't have anything better to do, so she sat on the edge of the bed for a few moments, contemplating how to amuse herself until night fell.

"I don't suppose you have any board games stashed away?" she asked Momo. Playing board games was a suitable method of passing the time amongst humans - she had soundly beaten many a competitor at Monopoly and The Game of Life.

Ignoring... ignoring... ignoring... Board games, what?

"There is a lack of Go or Shogun in this place," came the muffled reply from beneath the covers. Momo wasn't sure why she'd even answered. So much for the ignoring.

"I've never heard of those. Are they board games you dead people play?"

Anya was mildly disappointed that Momo didn't have Monopoly. She had never lost that game, though that was hardly surprising given her intelligence and highly skilled market acumen.

Monopoly was a microcosm of life: economic pressures being played out in miniature by small silver casts of shoes and top hats. Of course she had a knack for it: handling money was her greatest talent.

With a heavy sigh, Momo drew in a breath. Patience, shingami. Patience.

"No, they are board games the Japanese play. Why do you want a game to play anyways?" She shouldn't have asked. She knew this, yet she still asked.

"Because I'm bored," Anya explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She was have thrown in a 'duh' for good measure, but that was a bit too Sunnydale. That was how stupid Harris talked. She was so over him.

"What do you do when you're bored? I presume there are skulls and bowling pins involved, or perhaps you possess people and lobsters and force them to sing amusing colloquial songs about bananas!" She grinned at her roommate, convinced she'd guessed right. She'd seen something along those lines in a film Xander had showed her once, and it had seemed to make perfect sense.

"I read," Momo replied and then hunkered down in her covers more. Yup, she'd been right; she shouldn't have asked. The oni's thought process was baffling.

Momo didn't seem to want to talk, which annoyed and puzzled Anya.

"Why are you hiding under the covers?" She glanced up at the ceiling fixtures. She'd heard somewhere that florescent lights were really bad for you. They turned you green, or something. "Have you developed a sudden deadly allergy to light? If so, you need to have that looked at by a doctor immediately. Otherwise you'll have to live in a basement and only come out on nights when there's no moon! I have a friend who lived in a basement and he went insane. He seems better now..."

She still wasn't sure what to think of Spike being here. He'd complimented her hair, so she supposed she was happy about it.

"I am perfectly unallergic to light, Anya," Momo replied, her words much sharper than she'd intended. "That's a ridiculous idea."

Momo tried to compose herself. "People tend to be under the covers of a bed when they want to rest. I am trying to do that, but you keep talking to me."

"Your refusal to partake in conversation is baffling and slightly hurtful. I'm only trying to make small talk." Anya pouted slightly, resting her chin on her hands and wrinkling her forehead.

"And I'm sorry I didn't know about the covers, but human social cues are not something I understand easily. And you're not human anyway, you're dead, so something a human would do is not necessarily something you would do," she pointed out in a reasonable tone of voice.

"I was once human," Momo replied, but sat up to look at Anya. She didn't want to talk to the oni, but Anya's comment about the shinigami's wish to be left alone being somewhat hurtful was enough to rouse her. She hadn't intended on being mean to the oni.

Now that she was sitting up, Momo's injuries became apparent. She still had the cast on her left wrist, though there was now a beautiful red, yellow and orange firebird drawn across it. She still gave the indication that there was something of note not visible with the way she moved and the scarring around her left eye as well as the way it seemed duller than the right was clear for Anya to see.

"One of my longest friends died last night and there's going to be a memorial for him tonight," the shinigami said quietly. "It's going to be a very long night and I would have liked to get a little bit of sleep. I am sorry if that seems rude." She paused. "And please don't tell me you're sorry I lost my friend. I'll assume that's the case." Momo wasn't sure if she could take Anya's typical loud fake-like condolences this time, so hopefully she managed to head them off.

Day 37: Intercom, Evening

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