Sangamon Taylor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
toxicspiderman) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2009-04-09 05:01 pm
toxicspiderman) wrote in damned_institute2009-04-09 05:01 pm
Entry tags:
- adelheid,
- aidou,
- blitzwing,
- blue beetle,
- claude,
- daniel jackson,
- depth charge,
- edgeworth,
- edward elric,
- frey,
- guy,
- homura,
- junpei,
- keman,
- kenren,
- kio,
- leon magnus,
- lockdown,
- nataku,
- nigredo,
- okita,
- ren,
- ronixis,
- s.t.,
- sam winchester,
- sanzo,
- scar (tlk),
- schuldig,
- scourge,
- snake,
- sora,
- teisel,
- the doctor,
- the flash,
- the scarecrow,
- wesker,
- willy wonka,
- xigbar,
- yohji,
- zex
Day 40: Greenhouse [Fourth Shift]
Most days, fish and chips (and a cold beer or three) was pretty goddamned high on S.T.'s list of perfect expense-account lunches. Today, the idea of picking at greasy hunks of unidentified bottom-feeder odds-and-ends (politely known as scrod, to the delight of teenagers all across the Northeast) didn't appeal.
He begged off and collapsed into his bed, after using his damp shirt as an excuse to surreptiously check the contents of his closet. Bingo. His nurse watched his little show, unimpressed but (more importantly) unsuspicious. Not that his hairy chest was much of a catch today, pale and sweating from fever. At least she didn't tuck him in.
The intercom woke up up right on schedule, and pulling the sheets back over his head almost won. But a handful of unanswered missives and a vague sense of duty dragged him out to the bulletin, and from there it was easier to stagger over to the greenhouse.
It was warm inside -- a deep, humid warmth that actually penetrated to the aches in more joints and muscles than he could remember the names of. Like a sauna, without the hassle of finding someplace to look that wasn't a mound of pasty middle-management cellulite. Or a sweat lodge, without the opposite hassle of being conscious that he was the only white guy in the room. In fact, besides the nurses in holding patterns, he was the only person in the room.
He located a tray of tomato seedlings going rootbound in their tiny six-packs, and a potting bench whose location was a quick-and-dirty approximation of equidistantly far from anything blooming. He assured his nurse he knew what he was doing, and after a couple of successful repottings, gently sliding the little seedlings out and loosening the tangled roots, she seemed to agree and backed off. It was, by far, the most fucking theraputic thing he'd found in this hellhole so far, and he let himself sink into the rhythm of the task.
[Free!]
He begged off and collapsed into his bed, after using his damp shirt as an excuse to surreptiously check the contents of his closet. Bingo. His nurse watched his little show, unimpressed but (more importantly) unsuspicious. Not that his hairy chest was much of a catch today, pale and sweating from fever. At least she didn't tuck him in.
The intercom woke up up right on schedule, and pulling the sheets back over his head almost won. But a handful of unanswered missives and a vague sense of duty dragged him out to the bulletin, and from there it was easier to stagger over to the greenhouse.
It was warm inside -- a deep, humid warmth that actually penetrated to the aches in more joints and muscles than he could remember the names of. Like a sauna, without the hassle of finding someplace to look that wasn't a mound of pasty middle-management cellulite. Or a sweat lodge, without the opposite hassle of being conscious that he was the only white guy in the room. In fact, besides the nurses in holding patterns, he was the only person in the room.
He located a tray of tomato seedlings going rootbound in their tiny six-packs, and a potting bench whose location was a quick-and-dirty approximation of equidistantly far from anything blooming. He assured his nurse he knew what he was doing, and after a couple of successful repottings, gently sliding the little seedlings out and loosening the tangled roots, she seemed to agree and backed off. It was, by far, the most fucking theraputic thing he'd found in this hellhole so far, and he let himself sink into the rhythm of the task.
[Free!]
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His question caught him off guard. There weren't any cows in-- oh. Well, that wasn't very nice. He supposed if one was a teenage human boy, though, one might think that way. "I, uh, wasn't really paying attention."
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He overfilled it a bit and started taking the extra dirt off. "They said something about talking to and taking care of plants will make us be less crazy. I think they need some major greenhouse work themselves. Or maybe just a session of being forced to watch that American movie about the giant man eating plant named Aubry of something like that."
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He looked down at his plant. It wasn't exactly man-eating, but he took a couple of the leaves and put them together like a mouth. "Feed me, Seymour!"
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Junpei grinned and laughed at Brooklyn's antics with the plant, sticking his pinky into the 'mouth' and then faking like he'd been bitten.
"Ow! Ow! It hurts!" Oops. That drew the attention of a nurse. He held his hand up perfectly fine. "See, no harm, no foul, babe."
With a shake of her head, the nurse wandered back off. Junpei wiped his brow. "Jeeze. These people have no damn sense of humor."
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"I guess this could be sort of therapeutic, if you liked this sort of thing." Angela might have liked it, but he would never want to bring her into this place.
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He paused. "Nah. That'd be, like, normal. Heaven forbid there be normalcy. At least the food is good and there is plenty of eyecandy."
Glancing up, he assessed Brooklyn. "You got a chick back home?"
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At the mention of having a girlfriend, however, the smile became slightly sadder. "Nah. I mean, there's a girl I had an interest in, but she seems to be more interested in my brother and I can't step in the middle of that."
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"Doesn't that just blow? I totally get you, though. There are things a guy just can't do to family," he replied. "I'm an only child, so I'm not sure what having brothers is like. But I've got some guy friends I kind of see as family."
Crawling through Tartarus together to save the world will do that to a group of guys.
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"Do you have any of those friends here?" he asked suddenly. "I haven't run into anyone familiar yet."
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"That's.. wow. I'm happy for you."
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Junpei's eyes glazed over. "Brilliant red hair down to here," he made a gesture down by his rear. "Deep eyes that see right into your soul and the sweetest smile the few times she does smile. It's kind of rare, but when she smiles and laughs... my heart is hers all over again."
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...If he ever got the chance, now that he was here.
"She sounds nice," he said seriously.
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"She draws really well. Maybe she'll do your portrait."
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And for him to have his portrait done... an image of this false self the Institute had crafted for him... As fun as it was to be able to mingle easily among humans, and to be able to walk about in the daylight, this just wasn't who he was.
"That would be... fun," he managed, voice a bit duller.
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"Okay, Brooklyn - pony up. What'd I do or say that's got you all emo?"
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"Oh, you know. The usual." Patrolling the streets of New York for lawbreakers and humans in trouble. That sort of thing. "My brothers and I like to catch movies and concerts when we can. I like to read a bit, and Lex'll sometimes drag us over to play video games with him."
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"Oh, hey, I'm from Iwatodai, Japan. You ever heard of it or are you from one of those weird worlds that don't have ramen?"
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He paused for dramatic suspense. "They don't have ramen. That, my good man, is a crime!"
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