damned_institute | Day 40: Lunch

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Day 40: Lunch

*hobble wobble*

"Damn that SCOURGE!" Starscream cried out, the slowly-filling cafeteria producing a jarring echo of his raspy voice. His limping, already bad enough from not knowing how to properly use his crutches, was now exacerbated from the injuries he'd received the shift prior. Despite the gauges in his non-casted leg so lovingly provided by the aforementioned 'patient', Starscream could still put some weight on it, but not so much that he could really stop and rest; relieving the soreness under his arms was out of the question. The nurse that walked behind him with his tray, already upset at having to deal with yet another troublesome inmate, was growing rather impatient as his charge slowly made his way down the food line.

"Just...give me a standard serving of the aquatic creature's flesh, some of those fried potato slices, two bananas, and three bottles of juice," Starscream sighed, his anger from just a moment ago assuaged by the physical exertion needed to move the way he did. "I'm going to sit down here...bring it to me when you're done."

He was hardly surprised to find that one of the bananas was completely bruised along its inner curve, or that the handful of 'chips' on his plate were all on the small side. Tired and frustrated as he was, however, he could barely muster a 'damned flesh-creature' before moving his fingers to the plate, picking one of the longer 'chips' and shoving it into his mouth listlessly.

There was an unusually high concentration of sodium chloride crystals on it. Of COURSE.

[For Tony Stark]

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What self respecting megalomaniac used the phrase 'yum yum'? This guy was so lame it was painful.

Despite the ineptitude of the fearsome head doctor and even the bleak outlook of life in the institute, Peter was feeling ten times better as he piled his plate with fries. Talking with Matt had been a real boost - who would have thought? If he actually ever got the chance to know his Matt, maybe he would find that there was a nice guy buried underneath all the layers of jerk.

Still, the events of this morning were not forgotten, and he made a cursory sweep around the practically empty cafeteria before coming up with absolutely zilch. Again. It was with only a hint of frustration that he sat down at the nearest table and started on his meal.

He'd find them. Eventually. For now, he just had to keep on looking.

[For Meche!!]

Meche couldn't help scanning the cafeteria for a certain lost friend as soon as she got through the door. She didn't find it, but she did pick out another familiar face--one she hadn't expected to see again. With a smile, she hurried to fix herself a tray of food and headed towards him.

Peter did look a little different than she remembered--younger, she thought as she got closer. She'd been picturing him as a college student. Then again, it had been the better part of a week, and she'd only talked with him the once, she told herself; it wasn't impossible that his maturity had just impressed her into thinking he was older than he really was. Still, it was unmistakably Peter, and she was happy to see that he was all right.

"Hello, Peter," she greeted him with another bright smile as she approached. "It's good to see you--to be honest, I was a little worried something had happened to you. Mind if I sit down?"

"...Eh?"

A pretty woman in her thirties had just swept out of the blue and into the seat across from him. That was something that didn't happen every day. Or ever. Women young and old alike avoided skinny teenage boys like Peter Parker.

"Uh, sure, go ahead," he said uncertainly. He tried his best to match something to her: the face, the voice, the haircut. Nothing worked. As far as he knew, she wasn't another alternate version of someone from home. Unless Susan Storm had undergone some drastic cosmetic surgeries in her later years. "I don't mean to be rude but...how do you know me?"

Well, she hadn't expected that. Obviously Peter had made a much bigger impression on her than she had on him. She pressed on through her embarrassment, trying to smooth the conversation over. He'd probably had a rough week.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized, setting her tray cautiously down opposite Peter and taking a seat. Hopefully a few minutes' conversation would jog his memory; she really had enjoyed his company. "I'm Mercedes Colomar--Meche. We met on the bus back from town a few days ago. You gave me a lot of good advice about this place; it's really come in handy." She'd also probably ruined his day with her little preview of the afterlife, but she wasn't going to bring it up if he didn't. At least she'd done a pretty good job of not hitting people over the head with that today.

"The bus? What bus? I just got here yesterday," Peter said, thoroughly confused. "They take us on a bus?"

The name was definitely not familiar in any way, shape, or form (although it was pretty cool). She seemed a little flustered though, and Peter instantly regretted embarrassing her. But how did she meet him days ago when...

There was that thing on the board. That girl that had asked about memory gaps said that he might have been here before. Could that be who Meche had met?

Peter wasn't too sure how he felt about that. Hearing about his other self living in different worlds was awkward, to be sure, but at least it was a separate planet from the one he was currently on. He'd had a hard enough time dealing with the clones, and those guys had all been altered in one way or another.

It did, however, explain why Harry had seemed so worried about the other Peter when they first met. Yet that only left a bigger question in it's stead: what happened to the other Peter Parker? He didn't...die, did he? Did he escape? What if he was still here somewhere? Oh god, what would he do if he was? What would Harry do? He wouldn't just ditch him, would he?

"I think you know a different Peter," he said thickly, after a few stagnant moments had passed. Damn. Just when he'd started to feel a little better, too. "I know that sounds crazy, but apparently it happens around here. Don't ask me how..."

"The bus to Doyleton--" Meche did a quick count. "I think it would have been Saturday. Remember, you weren't feeling well and..." She trailed off; this obviously wasn't ringing any bells for him. Just got here yesterday? Wherever they'd had him--infirmary or torture chamber, either way--had he gotten some kind of amnesia? If the same thing had happened to Manny, she wasn't going to be happy about it.

His response was probably supposed to be an explanation, but it served only to make the picture even less clear. "A different Peter?" she repeated doubtfully. "If you mean someone else with the same name, then no, I'm pretty certain I recognize you." But then again... "I did think you looked a little older last time, but I just assumed I must've remembered wrong."

Whether it was the same Peter or not, their situation was certainly reversed now--all of a sudden Meche was the Landel's veteran and Peter the novice, and she wasn't sure she was crazy about that. After the week she'd had, she didn't feel qualified to be giving insights to anyone. If it came down to that, though, Meche was pretty sure she could do a better job than that girl yelling at the top of her lungs from that tabletop over there. Impromptu gymnastics competitions? Even without the battered right arm, Meche would have been prepared to pass.

Well, at least the girl was doing something to try to improve their situation, whereas all Meche was accomplishing so far was either depressing people or shooting at them, and sometimes both. She shook the distraction off and considered what to say next. Well, there was no point in asking him where or how he'd been the last few days. "How are you adjusting to this place, then?" she asked instead, making another effort to right the awkward conversation. "It must be frustrating to have people like me remembering you out of nowhere."

He loosed a nervous chuckle. "No, I think you had it right. The other me is supposed to be older. Like, in college, not in high school." He shrugged. "Apparently we didn't look much alike, either. You're the first person who recognized me on the spot."

What the - oh, crazy chick on a table. Not entirely unexpected (he did live in New York after all), but still entertaining. "Huh. I thought this wasn't real nuthouse. Although I do love lame poetry." She continued to rant with great bravado until the nurses came rushing her way, looking ready to pry her off her perch kicking and screaming.

"I'm...doing all right. I'm more worried about other people though." It probably wasn't polite to get into another huge rant about stabbings and murderous psychopaths, no matter how sore he was about it. Also, proclaiming his one man crusade against violence to everyone he met might come off a little suspicious, seeing as how he was supposed to be mild-mannered Peter Parker right now (he'd let the thing this morning with Ben slide - he'd been really upset).

Besides, so far Meche had been really nice, and she seemed somewhat attached to the other Peter. The very least he could do was make an effort to be pleasant. "Nah. Like I said, you're the first person to recognize me. I've been the one chasing after everybody else. And I really don't mind. You seem okay to me," he added with a smile. "How about you? Been here long?"

Not a real nuthouse? "Sometimes I wonder," Meche replied dryly. Not to mention uncharitably--what was getting into her? "You'll hear a lot stranger things if you stick around here," she added, hastening to soften her statement a little. She didn't want to set herself up as a tour guide, but it couldn't hurt to give him a preview. "A number of people around here seem to have some kind of superpowers. I just spent the morning with a death god, and that isn't the half of it."

His concern for other people was heartening--and consistent with the Peter she'd met before. Meche felt encouraged. "That's a good way to handle things, I think," she said. "It's easy to get stuck in self-pity here if you're not careful. Making connections seems to be the best way to fight it." That was what Senna would say, definitely. Meche was inclined to agree with her.

"Actually," she continued, "Landel's is strange that way; sometimes you'll connect to people really quickly, even if you've only talked for a little while. I actually only met you the once, but you made a strong impression. You were one of the first really nice people I met." She gave him a smile. "I'm sure that's the same whenever you're from. As for me, I got here...about a week or so now, I think. I haven't gotten myself killed yet, at least, although apparently not for lack of trying." She indicated the bandages with a little self-mocking grimace.

“…Death God?” he parroted. A silence fell over the table, Peter’s face seemingly fixed in a state of confusion. Then, quite suddenly, he began to laugh. “You know what? That doesn’t even come close to the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, and that’s counting before I got here. Probably not a good sign, huh?” Once upon a time he might have called her bonkers and left it at that, but that was before Thor showed up. It wasn’t enough to make him religious, but hey, it was decent evidence.

“I guess I’m really lucky then. There’s a lot of people here that I know back home. Not that I want them to be stuck here either, but it’s nice to have somebody around that you can trust.” He took a few bites of his fish, determined to stuff himself as full as he could. This was the second day he’d missed out on breakfast, and the majority of his dinner last night wound up all over his pants instead of in his stomach.

What Meche said next had him a little worried, though. And the bandages even more so. How did he not notice that before? “The first one? Uh – I wish I could take credit for that but that would be pretty…yeah. But you’ve met other people since then, right? It’s not safe to go wandering around alone.” He frowned uncomfortably at the bandages, trying not to think of Brainy with his bloodied wrappings and blackened bruises. Quietly, he asked, “What happened? Were you attacked by somebody?”

"Yeah, it's a little scary when that starts to sound normal, isn't it?" Meche agreed with a grin. Strange that death gods had actually been the most natural thing for her to grasp here, after the last four years. It was just everything else that seemed bizarre to her.

She ate a few forkfuls of salad while she considered her answers to his next questions. The night before last wasn't really something she wanted to mention to him, either, especially not now that it would be a first impression for him. She wondered why it was so much easier to talk about it to strangers--probably because they didn't know her well enough to be disappointed by her. Even outright disgust was better than the feeling that you'd let someone down.

"I've met other people, but sometimes that's not good enough to stop the things this place throws at you," she said truthfully. "This happened last night, when my partner and I were attacked by this huge monster--bladed tail, two sets of jaws, really, the worst. We would've needed a cannon to fight it off without getting at least a little scraped up." It wasn't a lie, just a sin of omission. Meche thought that was okay.

[Forgive my fail!! DDDD: If you want to backthread after today, I'd be up for it.]

Peter had read about the monsters, naturally, but he hadn't given them too much credence. So far no one he'd talked to had seen anything, and so he didn't pay the notices much attention. It was always about the patients. Brainwashed people, delusional sadists, old enemies out for revenge. Yet here was Meche, who had clearly been mauled by something. But by a monster? Peter wasn't so sure he bought that.

He'd seen what some mutants turned out like. And that wasn't to say that they were disgusting or savages or anything like that, but to anyone who didn't know better, it might seem that way. All it would take was some jumpy idiot to scream, and everyone would be grabbing their torches and pitchforks. As if that wasn't bad enough, there was this whole mad scientist vibe about the head doctor and his experiments. What these people called monsters could be mutants under permanent brainwashing. Or people who were surgically mutilated to gain powers or strength, like Deadpool. On second thought, it wasn't much of a stretch to assume that the animals were given the same treatment. If you could shoot up human with super cocktails like OZ, then you could definitely do it to an animal. God, that was so disgusting.

Or, as much as he loathed the idea, there was always magic to consider. Peter knew next to nothing about 'sorcery', and even less about fighting it. Generally he tried to steer clear of anything remotely close to that end of the spectrum. He wasn't even sure about what really happened that time with Doctor Strange. That could have been a demon, a ghost, some sort of elemental spirit thing - crap, he didn't even know how to classify that stuff. What if Landel was using magic? Summoning demons and gods like in Ghostbusters (did he actually use Ghostbusters as a reference? Cripes, he was turning into Kong). Oh man, he'd have to ask Harry or Steve or somebody about that. If their worlds were remotely like his, then there was a decent chance that they had come across magic at some point in time.

For now though? Peter was going to stick with what he knew.

Appetite lost, he gingerly pushed his plate away. "This monster thing, did it look human at all? Or was it closer to an animal?" The bladed tail bit made him think of reptiles. So it was some kind of lizard hybrid, maybe? Although the two jaws bit had him stumped. Peter couldn't even imagine how that would work, aside from having two heads. In all likelihood, the thing was probably engineered that way just to be repulsive.

"Oh, not even close," Meche replied instantly. "Humanoid, maybe, but even that'd be a stretch. I didn't get a great look at it, but its head was really long, almost cylindrical. The second set of jaws looked like it came out from in between the set, like on some kind of tongue. It was big--dark and big. And it moved almost silently; I remember we barely realized it was there before it attacked us." Those were the only impressions she had of it, aside from the long whipping tail. She hadn't had time to get anything else, even if she'd wanted to. She hadn't.

Peter looked skeptical, not that she blamed him. If someone had been telling her the same horror story, Meche would have been tempted to raise her eyebrows too. She hoped she hadn't ruined his appetite too much. "I know it sounds far-fetched," she said. "But I'm pretty sure about what I saw, and I know it hit me with its tail--the blade was strong enough to punch through metal. Just--be careful, all right? The last thing you need is to disappear a second time."

His brows contorted as he listened to Meche's description, an eerie sense of familiarity overcoming him. "That sounds kind of like the aliens from Alien. The movie," he said incredulously. "Weird."

Okay, so it wasn't human. Some kind of demon or gene-spliced animal then. In spite of her kindness and her clear sanity, he held onto the tiniest sliver of false hope that she was mistaken. Coming across a creature like that in the dark would be pants-wettingly terrifying. And this is from a guy who's seen the Kingpin in a muscle shirt.

"Everything here is far-fetched. Some things might not be real, but other things are. As much as it pains me to use cliches, you just gotta take it with a grain of salt." His smile returned. "I'll be careful if you are. Try not to get banged up again tonight, okay?"

Meche shrugged. "I couldn't really say; I'm not a big moviegoer. Guess anything's possible, though." Another thought occurred to her. "You know, you could check the bulletin board in the Sun Room--have you seen that yet? There are usually some messages about monsters up there. Maybe someone else has seen the same thing and could give a better description." Someone had been really aggressive about collecting information over the past few days; Meche would've been surprised if no one had mentioned that monster yet. Naoto might even have been there already.

She smiled back at him, appreciating the gesture. Peter really was a good kid, whenever he was from. "Thanks; I'll do what I can. Actually, there's supposed to be someone from the Arts and Crafts club coming at the beginning of the night to do something for my injuries. I'm going to be working for them for the first time tonight."

Had he heard about the clubs and the board yet this time around? Somehow, without meaning to, she'd slipped back into the role of Landel's vet. Oh, well. Better safe than sorry, Meche told herself with a sigh.

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Day 40: Lunch

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