damned_institute | 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]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah, I guess." They tried, at any rate, although Junior'd definitely seen his share of what they were like at night. The nurses didn't exactly mean well then.

He finished a bite of his fish before holding his hand out across the table in response. "I'm Rubedo."

Cross paused, blinking at the extended hand before slowly reaching his own over. His face went pale with the movement, arm shaking as pain flared up in his right shoulder. Another moment, however, and he'd shoved all thoughts of the pain aside, grabbing the boy's wrist and twisting the hand so that he had a better view of his palm.

The numbers there were far too familiar, but they weren't done the same as Jio's - like some copy-cat who'd never met Satan himself. "What... What is this?" he frowned.

Junior was going to ask if Cross was okay before he grabbed his wrist and twisted it so the palm was facing up. His expression turned to one of confusion. Why'd he seem so upset about it?

It'd been a long time, really, since anyone had brought it up. The redhead just hoped it was because Cross wanted to know why a kid had a tattoo, and not because he thought of him as a monster.

"It's, uh...a tattoo," he replied, also frowning. "My dad gave it to me when I was really little." And he hated the bastard for it and a variety of other reasons, but that wasn't really important. "Why?"

"Why would your father..." Cross had to let go and pull back. He closed his eyes until a painful, dizzy moment had passed. Then he took a couple deep breaths before trying again. "Why would your father brand you with the mark of Satan?"

He couldn't really blame the kid if it wasn't his fault, and it was strange to see something like this when he'd been positive there was no one else from his world. Had the demon inhabited another at some point?

It was so difficult to think right now.

The mark of-- what? He remembered reading that name in an old book, about some religion. The redhead had trouble remembering the finer details. All its over the top writing style and tendency to repeat things bored the hell out of him. But reading helped him get to sleep, so it was a good choice for if he'd had to get an early start. The name had something to do with evil, didn't it?

So in the end, it all came back to being a monster. He had to deal with enough of that crap from Albedo, now this guy? Great.

He pulled his hand back when he got the chance, frown becoming more prominent. "That's..." None of his business. "Complicated." The same damn excuse he was using for everything today. "My brothers and sisters had similar tattoos."

"Similar...?" Cross rested his head in one hand tiredly. His mind was boggling and it was seriously wearing him out, not that he had much to wear out to begin with. "As in they're the same number or...?"

Could it just be coincidence? Satan was the only one of the demons that had a symbol like that. His own looked like a sideways E more than anything. But of all the numbers to have.

He shook his head. "I'm not... sure how they could be related..."

"No, we all had different numbers," Junior replied. "They just all look kind of like mine in color and placement."

He paused, watching Cross carefully. Things had gone from pleasant conversation to confusing without much real explanation, and the guy seemed set on following the conversation despite not really seeming to be in the best of shape. Not to mention his last statement had caught Junior's attention.

"Why?" he finally asked. "What did you think it was related to?"

Different numbers? And his just happened to be that. Cross frowned again, then shook his head. "The number of the beast," he said, as though this should speak for itself. "666. I have a... friend, that..."

Was he considering Jio Freed a friend? He was, wasn't he? Jio and Satan weren't the same entity, despite the fact that one resided within the other. At this point in time, after what they'd done, it wouldn't be right to think of him as anything else.

"He has a similar marking," he continued. "Also on his palm. The demon no. 1i resides within him. Satan."

Well, no wonder he'd freaked out. "That's a hell of a coincidence." Junior commented, leaning back in his chair a bit.

He caught sight of his brothers out of the corner of his eye, and kept himself from groaning. He just hoped that their meal didn't end in violence when he wasn't nearby to try and separate them.

"Sorry for your friend," he said after a moment. "I hope he's not having to deal with people getting mad at him just for that." The redhead knew all too well what it felt like to have people get mad at him for something he couldn't exactly help.

All the time. And unfortunately Satan had a way of coming to the surface until recently. In response, Cross merely smiled and gave an awkward "Heh."

He might have to watch this kid. Later. When he could actually think straight for more than a few moments at a time.

"I apologize for jumping at you like that." That said, he returned to attempting to eat his meal.

"No problem." He returned Cross's smile before picking up a fillet again.

"Seemed kinda weird at first, but it makes sense," he continued as he dunked the fish in the sauce. At the very least, all he'd wanted was an explanation of it. It could've been worse, and things seemed to be going back to pleasant.

Something else was nagging at Cross, and he had to pause mid-bite in order to recall what it was. He didn't want to leave the table knowing he'd forgotten an important question.

"The other numbers," he said suddenly, once it came to mind. "If it's all right for me to ask, what are they?"

Day 40: Lunch

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject