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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Luxord nodded his head, evidently pleased that he'd no need to explain that thread if the king already connected the dots. And oh, he had not been stalked so much as say... monitored. It was important to find anything and anyone that could possibly help the Organization's cause--from powerful hearts to a particularly vengeful ghost.

He was not about to mention that last part, however. Far be it for him to spoil the twist-ending to the other's tale, not that Luxord wouldn't find it amusing if he did. As a Master of Time, he knew enough not to ruin its flow with such nonsense.

So the Gambler went to examining his nails, seemingly bored that the king was not, in fact, eaten by something by now. "You just did not seem to be one to adapt well. You can hardly blame me."

"Then I suppose you have underestimated me." Scar answered. The King did not particularly enjoy being underestimated. Or even the other man's attitude for that matter, which even went as far for him to consider it on the border of insulting. It took him some effort not to start growling. It was apparently incredibly difficult to give him the respected he deserved!

Though this man known so much about him was certainly a disadvantage. Scar was not pleased, even if this certainly wasn't the only case.

"Considering you seem to know me so well. It'd be only fair if you'd at least tell me your name." Scar said, somehow managing to still keep his voice neutral.

"Wouldn't you agree?"

"Or overestimated this institute," he said with a shrug. "It's hardly doing its job." Despite the high rate of those missing... well, it could be higher. And with hardly anything to fear at night, X was having to take it upon himself to find other patients to keep him entertained. No wonder Martin had taken to sleeping in at night--it was boring.

Sigh. That didn't seem as if it were going to change any time soon, either. Another reason he was leaving and taking II with him.

Still, Luxord offered the king a smile and a name. "Rould." It was almost true, anyhow.

"I suppose that would depend on what job it is supposed to be doing." Scar answered. "Aside from 'making us better', of course."

There was a difference between boring their patients to death or torturing them in gruesome ways. Lately, it seemed the former was beginning to be the case. It was starting to become slightly old. Not that he had enjoyed the visit to the upstairs kennel a night or two ago, but even that couldn't completely eliminate the sense of...routine that was appearing here. Not even the monsters or other threats could. He had been here for quite some time, and all he had done was walk in circles.

It seemed falling asleep during the night for no apparent reason seemed to be a recent trend as well. He had to wonder if there was something in the food.

"Rubbish. It matters not what job you are attempting if you are doing it wrong. Unless it is your job to fail horrendously." Luxord took a break from speaking to focus on the fact that, indeed, he had fish in front of him. It made for a beautiful distraction.

More than a few moments passed (slow eater was slow) and, after he decided his meal was finished, the Gambler turned his attention back to the former-lion. "That would be advice to take to heart, by the way. You were hardly what I would call a king."

It took Scar every amount of self-constraint not to attack the man sitting across him and see how effective these human nails could be in scratching a person's eye out. It was tempting, yes, but those nurses would be on them faster than a group of hungry hyenas on a scrap of meat. In other words; resorting to such violence - along with it hardly being his style - wouldn't really accomplish anything.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes as his nails dug into the surface of the table. How dare that insolent excuse of a monkey say something like this?! He was a better King than Mufasa could ever hope to be!

"And I suppose a know-it-all such as yourself could do much better." Scar answered abruptly, not completely managing to keep the anger out of his voice. It was, after all, quite a sore spot for him.

"I would not whine when I could not have my way, for starters. A king must always be calm, level-headed, and in control, three things you were never good at, if the current expression on your face is any indication." Ah, such a wonderful reaction, too. Luxord only smiled at the obvious rage in the other man's eyes before continuing. ~~It was as delicious as the fish.~~ "I would also not allow the situation to grow as dire as you had--unhappy peons do unhappy things, lowly as you may assume them, for they truly have no qualms turning against a false leader who is, I remind you, outnumbered. It would be best to cease being the diva you are quickly turn their desperation to your favor: 'save' them, if you will. Once they trust you utterly and know they could not possibly strive without you, then you may be the cruel tyrant you desire to be. They will not turn on a king who provides for them, even if it is only the necessities, after a time of need."

Like... hmm, who could possibly do that and was completely regarded as a savior for it? Oh, yes... Simba. Not that X was going to mention that or thought Scar could take such advice back to his world. This was simply for the fun of it.

While Rould spoke, Scar's nails dug even further into the surface of the table while his glare grew fierce enough to the point that - if it was possible - the other patient would have spontaneously gone up into flames. The man's smile along with the tone the unwanted advice was spoken with didn't help anything either; the King was growing increasingly more angry.

So much that he did not realize he was playing right into Rould's hands. Not until much, much later at least. Right now, his anger prevented the former lion to think rationally, ironically enough confirming the other's claims. The infuriating part was that Rould was completely right in every single way. What he heard was the complete but painful truth, even though the King stubbornly refused to admit it even when it slapped him into the face. Instead, he grew angry and denied it.

After all, what would these pathetic humans know of ruling a pride? Those hairless fools knew nothing, and neither would this insolent windbag.

"Like I would even consider taking the advice of a person who claims to know everything about me, while I barely know anything of you for that matter." he growled in response. "I suggest you do not stick your nose where it does not even belong, human."

The last word was said in a most condescending way, actually betraying what he really thought of them and their habits. Of course he could not tell if Rould was one of them, but at this point Scar couldn't care less.

He laughed then, cruel and amused. This was much more entertaining than his discussion with Badou. "It seems you speak truthfully of your ignorance, if you are going to toss me into that infuriating lot." Not infuriating because he thought of them as lowly as the king did ~~and every other single non-human here~~ or some something incredibly redundant as that. Infuriating because most of them did not appreciate the hearts they held and the blessing of emotion bestowed with them. Actually... even most non-humans had the same problem.

No wonder Luxord made a point to be rude to everyone and everything in his path. They didn't take advantage of what they had and it was... well, aggravating, even for a Nobody. Especially for a Nobody.

But he digressed. "Though I suppose it matters not what I am--the point itself is a simple one. You are not a king for the simple fact that you are doing it wrong." He laughed again, shaking his head at the veritable storm of pure rage leaping off the other. "It does not take a scholar or even your knowledge of who I am to figure that out."

Human or not, Rould behaved as one and shared the habit of using ridiculous objects for aid (as obvious by one's mannerisms). Scar might have made a remark about it had he been calmer. But right now, it was the last thing on Scar's mind.

Because Rould here was obviously mocking him. Him, his anger, his status for which he had worked so hard. "I am the King!!" Scar growled more fiercely. "How dare you even suggest that I am not?! If you know everything, you should know that right now that throne is mine!"

But the intercom announcement soon interrupted the former lion's tantrum, signaling the end of lunch. It could be argued as a good thing, because Scar was not sure how much longer he would have been able to keep himself from outright attacking the other.

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Day 40: Lunch

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