damned_institute | Day 41: Breakfast

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Day 41: Breakfast

Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute.

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes, not sitting up just yet. He could tell already that his torso had been heavily bandaged, even more so than it had been the night before. The cuts on his arms were covered with fresh bandages, and the one on his cheek seemed to no longer be there at all.

Endrance had been expecting to wake up in a lot of pain, but even that seemed numbed. "They must have given me something," he murmured quietly, as he slowly sat up.

At that moment, his nurse came to get him, pushing a wheelchair along with her. "Peyton, dear, good morning. I've come to take you to breakfast, so..." He shook his head. "I'm fine. There's no need for that...I can walk perfectly well."

She sighed. Well, if he insisted, she wasn't going to stop him. She motioned for an orderly to take the chair away, and walked him to the cafeteria. Once they had gotten there, she pointed him toward a seat, then set a full tray of pancakes covered with syrup, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice in front of him. "Now eat all of that, Peyton, or else you won't be strong enough to keep walking like that."

He glared at her back as she walked away, then stopped suddenly. There was that faint pulse he'd felt the night before...it was exactly the same.

And so he completely ignored his food in favor of staring at the cafeteria doors, looking at every patient that came in.

[thread will be closed to Haseo. ♥]

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Aaah, HK felt so good this refueling shift!

...Well, he was back to being a meatbag, and that was still a complete and total disappointment, but he'd been a droid for the night! He'd gone out and shot things! Oh, it was all he could do to keep a manic, insane grin off of his pliable meatbag faceplate.

He'd even gotten to use his flamethrower, too!

[free as a neurotic killer robot bird!]

[Free. Limit: any]

"Unhand me!" Struggle as she might, however, the dumb brute wouldn't do as he was told. He'd even been so precocious as to take her journal away. That was hers! Even if she didn't really want it, it had been in her desk and that meant it was her property. She'd have it back and have the orderly on his knees begging forgiveness for manhandling her before the journey was through! "I said, unhand me!"

Pulling her arm roughly away, Franziska whirled around and snapped the journal from the man's hands, giving him a particularly icy glare. "Try that again and you'll have nothing to look forward to next pay period," she threatened. The words didn't seem to affect him, however, and he left her near an empty table as Janice came over with a tray of decidedly unappetizing food.

"Do try to calm down, dear," Janice said, setting the tray down in front of Franziska. "It will take a bit to adjust, but I'm sure you'll do just fine here."

"I'll take the call from Germany the moment it comes in," was the prosecutor's only answer as she turned away, crossing her arms in front of her. This was not how the morning of her big case was supposed to go! She was supposed to be crushing some pathetic lawyer, not playing around with this sorry excuse for a clinic. Huffing, Franziska sat down, setting her journal on the table. At least she'd have a call soon and then she could get this whole mess cleared up and the appropriate people sacked for this horrible mistake. Someone would have to explain to her how she got from Germany to America overnight without her knowledge. And that someone had better hope they had a hide of iron to protect him from the beating that was coming.

[Free for threading. Limit: 3]

Luxord was incredibly displeased to find himself alone in the morning.

Be it no fault of the god's, X was the one who was designated to sneak off into the night and did not much enjoy having the tables turned in that regard. Not because any concepts of shame or attachment or such things as that, but damn it, he had been perfectly comfortable. He had been warm, comfortable, and just sleepy enough to act as though he were truly happy, and then came dear Mr. Landel to muck it up as usual.

Dash it all.

Not that the morning could possibly ruin such a wonderful night. The Gambler cast a cursory glance to the lone woman staring at the doors (or perhaps it was somehow a man, you could never be sure here) when led in by McNursingson, then taking a seat at the opposite end of the cafeteria. He was in a pleasant enough mood, really. It just seemed that every instance he acted upon it brought him woe. He was hardly going to bother.

Last night had been quite productive, by the standards he was reduced to in this place. Recluse took a tray of food and sat in a corner of the still mostly deserted dining hall, taking out his journal and jotting down some coded notes in his thin, spidery handwriting, eyes on the doors to the hall, watching any who filtered into the room. He did try to catalog who was here, after all. It wouldn't do to ever be surprised by anything in this prison.

[Who wants some premium evil overlord? Limit: any]

Another night passed with very little progress. However, the announcement mentioned there would be new patients this morning, which meant that at least the day would be somewhat entertaining. He hid away his things, wondering idly if the same creature he'd seen last night would be up that same way again if they tried it. That key had to go somewhere, but if they eliminated all the obvious possibilities, what else would there be?

Gin followed his nurse when she arrived and when they reached the cafeteria, he picked up a tray and got in line, moving through relatively quickly since there were only a few people up just yet. It gave him the chance to sit where he liked, with a nice view of the door and relatively few seats behind him, in case someone decided to stab him in the back with a plastic fork of one of those annoying ball point pens.

[Reserved for Kenpachi]

Night was over before they'd gotten anything done except for that code for the bulletin. She stared with half-lidded eyes at the ceiling for a few minutes before forcing herself to get out of bed and hide her various weapons before the nurse arrived.

It was still difficult to completely put aside what she'd learned last night, but as more time passed, it became easier. She would just be a little more volatile than usual for a while. The urge to punch the first thing that annoyed her was far from gone, at least.

She picked up her tray without comment and found a seat. Not many people were here yet and for the moment, she didn't mind some time to herself.

[ Free for threading. Limit: any]

Edgeworth had half-expected Renamon to still be by his side when he woke that morning, and it was almost a relief to be back in his own bed. He breathed out a long sigh. Morning meant that she would have been attended to by the true medical staff, and those injuries treated. He made a mental note to check on her that day if he could, then sat up in bed.

He was immediately hit by a loud noise and a single, sharp bolt of pain in his head, one that almost forced him to lie back down from the shock of it all. Are you back in this place, Manfred von Karma? If not, then...who? He didn't have time to think about it long, before his nurse came in. "Good morning, Mr. Pierce. Are you feeling all right?"

He nodded at her, and silently followed her to the cafeteria, making a plate with pancakes and fruit and sitting at a table that was relatively far away from the rest of the patient population. He looked up only to scan the cafeteria for Phoenix now and then, failing to notice what should have been a very familiar head of hair thanks to a serious case of tunnel vision. It worried him that he hadn't showed last night, and he would feel a lot better knowing that he was safe and sound.

[thread closed to Phoenix.]

Ryuk had had the room to himself. He'd figured he knew boredom pretty damn well, but apparently not. He thought he was going to go mad. Actually mad. Stark raving lunatic. Homicidal maniac. Wait, the last one... well, it wasn't TRUE true. Just... whatever.

Point was, his foot hurt and ~~he was scared of Winchester~~ his roommate was missing, so he decided to stay in. And he got bored. He ended up doodling in his journal. He never knew how artistic he was. Or wasn't. It was all opinion anyway, right?

Knowing the drill by now, the cruel, painful drill, Ryuk tried to ignore the apples and let the bitch behind the counter fill his plate with whatever. A brief warning from his nurse about how he had to eat (but NOT apples) and she left him with some pink haired little girl with a Japanese name.

"What you look so miserable about?" he huffed. How dare anyone pretend THEY had problems when he wasn't allowed a goddamn apple. That and the fact that he was seeing less and less of the people from home these days. That was no fun.

They hadn't made it to the basement.

With a frustrated groan, Claude slid out of bed and began hiding his things. His leg was nice and bandaged now, and the affects from the poison were completely gone, but the bitter taste of defeat wasn't something that was so easily brushed aside. Granted, their situation could have been a hell of a lot worse, but it still pissed him off that he hadn't even been given the chance to properly fight back. Not only that, but he'd pretty much been reduced to dead weight for a good portion of the night. How embarrassing!

Well, there wasn't much for him to do except move on, he supposed. Still, he was fairly reserved once his nurse showed up and began leading him to the cafeteria. She'd asked if he'd needed a crutch, but he declined the offer. His leg was pretty tender, but as long as he was gentle with it, it was probably fine.

Frowning to himself, the blond grabbed a tray and stepped in line. The fresh aroma of pancakes was pretty enticing, and his stomach gave a quiet growl.

[First post reserved for Sync. Limit: 3 total, so 1 extra? Someone random please feel free to crash their conversation at some point!!]

Oh shit, shit, shit. We're all going to die because we weren't expecting that goddamn bear to still be alive, and what the hell is going on with the Evoker not working? Akihiko closed his eyes, trying to think of a plan...

...and as if nothing at all had happened, found himself sitting bolt-upright in bed back in the Institute as if nothing at all had happened. He very nearly fell back onto the pillow in shock, surprise, and a very strong sense of relief. His heart was racing despite that, though. The call had been way too close for his liking.

Wait. Where was -- he felt under his pillow for a minute, and breathed another sigh of relief. The Evoker was safely under his pillow next to his flashlight.

He took a few moments to still his breathing, trying not to wake his sleeping roommate. A moment later, his nurse came in, whispering in hushed tones. "Did you have a nightmare, Andrew? Well, don't worry. You're perfectly safe here and have nothing to worry about."

Akihiko simply nodded and followed her along to the cafeteria, filling his tray in silence and then almost collapsing into a chair.

[first post reserved for Ururu; I'm fine with a third jumping in, though would prefer it be someone that knows at least one of them.]

Why was it she seemed to only attract the ugly, obnoxious men? Notably, the trend had changed slightly in this place, but her luck could only hold out for so long. She pushed back her hair and sent him a cold look, not at all amused by his anger or sense of humor, whatever he was going for.

"What do you want?" she asked.

Rude had had a quietly (apart from the explosive bit) productive night. He had a section of his hand nicely plastered up as a result, but the fact that there had been results made up for it. Tonight he was gonna blow Reno's door down.

Anyway, he grabbed breakfast and went to find a quiet seat but the nurse kept pulling him along in another direction, an orderly close behind. They put him next to some angry looking chick and smiled.

Apparently she was knew. And pissed off. And needed a breakfast buddy who could handle a few potential hits. Great.

What the hell made them think Rude was competent enough to deal with the new kids? Sure he could take the goddamn beating, but he didn't want to. And like hell was he gonna be able to explain this shit to her. He have her a nod and stood up, but the Orderly doubled back and he sat down with a barely restrained sigh. Maybe Reno would come bail him out....

For now... Rude looked her over. Kinda cute in the snobby, pretentious, average cup size sorta way. Probably a complete bitch...

"Geez, what's your problem?" he asked. Freaking women. The lot of them.

"Me? I want an apple. What the hell do you want?" Ok, he knew that wasn't what he was asking, but...you know...he was willing to try anything. Maybe she'd get him one to leave her alone?

Ururu didn't have any time to react to Ken suddenly falling; just as she was about to yell, or to drop everything to try and catch him, the night ended, and Ururu was back in her bed. The girl didn't exactly realize what had happened at first. She sat up, very confused, especially when she saw she still had Ken's flashlight and spear. Once she did understand, Ururu was at least a little glad that she had kept her promise.

She just hoped Ken hadn't been hurt.

Ururu didn't think the nurse would like seeing her with such a large weapon, so she made sure to hide both the flashlight and the spear carefully before the woman came in. Then she followed the nurse like always, and soon was left with a full tray and no place to sit. Prompting the girl to again follow, the nurse led her to an older boy. He wasn't exactly Ururu's age, but he wasn't Kisuke-san's age either. That must have been good enough for the nurse, who soon left the girl alone with the stranger.

"Um. Hello." Ururu bowed, tray still in her hands, then looked up at this new person. "Do you mind if I sit here, Mister?"

Misa sighed as she was led to the cafeteria. She didn't recognize anyone there - none of her friends, no Ryuga, and most importantly, no Light. She was close to tears as she settled into a seat, an American-styled breakfast of pancakes in front of her. What was this place? Why was she being called Miranda?

...where was Light? She scanned the faces in front of her. Names came to her eyes - a Leslie Tickle there, an oddly familiar-looking Bob Loveday there, a very angry-looking Wilhelmina von Richter there, a Courtney Marsh and Thomas Appleby, Peyton Reynolds, Thomas Pierce...and they all had numbers under their names. She didn't exactly know what they meant, but the fact that they were there at all...

She bit her lower lip anxiously, again twirling her hair around her finger worriedly. This wasn't good. Not at all.

[first post reserved for Matsuda! If someone else that knew Misa before wants to jump in after a few posts, feel free.]

Her problem? Seriously, her problem?! The main problem was sitting right in front of her. Ugh! The little voice in the back of her head was already pissed off, she didn't need some asshole trying her patience on top of that!

"Do I LOOK like I have an apple?" she replied. If she did, it would've already been hurled at the man's face.

I'll tell you what I don't want. I definitely DON'T want to spend breakfast with an ugly weirdo who asks stupid questions! As much as she wanted to scream right now, she also didn't want to get herself sedated first thing in the morning. Especially when there was so much they had to get done.

"Fine. Let's try this again," she said flatly, poking at the eggs on her tray. "I'm Sakura. You are...?"

[Pulling a time warp - will come in after Sam's done with his business with Lelouch]

Dean Winchester woke up. Really woke up.

Okay, more like woke up feeling like shit, his head pounding. But he woke up as himself.

Even if he didn't know it.

All he could remember was going to sleep last night, mostly to avoid having to talk with Angel and clear up how things went with the "Emily twins", and then...Dean had no idea. Must've overslept, but you weren't supposed to wake up feeling even crappier than before. This wasn't just a case of sleeping in a bad position or on some run down bed (he'd had enough experience to know when it was that or something else). Dean lay there, eyes open in the dark as he cataloged everything that felt wrong. Head and face felt like they'd been run through a meat grinder, breathing stiff like he'd been punched hard with something in the chest. Nose? He didn't think it was broken, but he did know what it felt like when you'd taken a hit smack in the face and that was pretty much was how it felt the morning after. Dean reached up to gingerly touch his face and that was when he made the discovery his hands were bandaged like a friggen mummy. The hell's going on? He'd been injured more than was probably healthy on jobs, but you'd think you'd wake up if you were getting attacked or something. Whatever happened to him, Dean had no memory of it. Just zonking out. Then morning.

Hello Nurse's explanation was crap, of course. She did hover closer when she swung by to pick him up from M2, gave him some weak painkillers - tempting as it was to take them, he instead just palmed them away - and escorted him to the cafeteria. Apparently the "official" explanation was he'd somehow gotten out of the room ("Eric Derringer" turned into a sleep walker, nice) and had a bit of an accident, whatever that was supposed to mean. Yeah, Dean didn't buy it. She apologized and Dean for a second thought she really meant it. Glancing at her with his good eye, he sized her up. Hello Nurse looked sincere enough. Maybe she didn't know what was going on. If she was lying, she was good.

What Dean wanted was a damn ice pack. A cold beer. Just a few hours to chill out in the back seat of his car with the radio cranked up and relax. Be nice not to wake up with mysterious injuries, that instinctive sense of wrong constantly crawling up his spine, and just hang with his brother. Put this insane number of hunts to the side for a change. Be normal (or as normal as they could get). But instead he found himself getting herded through the growing breakfast line with the other patients, trying not to drop the tray with his bandaged hands, and wondering what happened to him last night. It was almost like he'd gotten into a bar brawl or something. Whatever it was, it'd been a real number. Aside from feeling as if someone worked his face over and then hit him in the chest with a hammer, Dean just felt generally shitty. Obviously he hadn't even gotten a good night's sleep, either. Great.

"I'll get you some water," Hello Nurse said. "For your medication," she added, and Dean supposed maybe it wouldn't kill him to take one.

How does Luxord feel about evil dictators and pancakes?

By the time Megatron had followed the woman through sterile corridors of the so-called ‘Landel’s Institute’, his processors had come online and he was utterly furious. It had taken him quite a few steps to get used to the altered weight placement from his usual form, and now he walked with his back straight and his head held high with a calm disdain. The woman had certainly noticed and frowned at him, before ordering him to stay ‘put’ after they had entered a large, echoing chamber. He was too exhausted to do anything different, staring out over the wash of humans.

Megatron had looked up at the ceiling, searching for even the most basic of security camera equipment, and, of course, if there was anything of interest it had been well hidden. If Megatron really had been placed in a simulation, the humans he was looking out at were nothing more than bits of code, shifting through his processor. If the Quintessons really had managed to transfer his processor into a human body… well, he certainly couldn’t be the only one.

…they would have needed a few test-runs, first.

The female returned after a time, carrying a fuel container covered in… oh, for Spark’s sake, she had pancakes. A certain irritating professor had always had ‘quite the sweet tooth’, as Sumdac had put it, and Megatron had seen all kinds of sticky tree sap stuck to all sorts of schematics, tools – even Megatron’s helm, when Sumdac had forgotten to clean off his hands. The woman took no notice of his disgust, handed him his plate, and roughly pushed him in the direction of a slouched, male human.

“Enjoy your breakfast, Walter.”

Megatron sneered in response. Walter?

Humans were utterly illogical in their designations, and in comparison, Cybertronians ‘names’ were simple, straightforward references of description and status. Humans seemed to need a gender designation, a Mr or Ms (barring the fact that it was blindingly obvious to anyone with basic observational capabilities), not to mention a name to identify them as an individual. In a direct contradiction to that desired individuality, they also seemed to need a designation of secondary value to link to a family unit in order to feel apart of a whole.

…it was utterly beyond Megatron how the race had even figured out how to breed.

Still. ‘Walter’ was apparently the primary designation. ‘Hamilton’ the secondary. Not a puzzle of great complication.

The spot where Megatron had been coaxed to settle was near a tall, disgruntled human who looked as pleased as Megatron felt. Were the damnable Quintessons so utterly bored that they wanted to see how a Cybertronian would take to conversing with a human? Simulation or no, Megatron had interacted with enough of the damn apes to know it wasn’t exactly a science.

He was Megatron, the former Lord High Protector of Cybertron, and Supreme Leader of the Decepticons.

If the Quintessons wanted a fight, so be it. Megatron wouldn’t show them weakness. This was a war he could certainly win.

The hunter, sneaking a glance at Hello Nurse's retreating back, hurriedly began to take a peak at his hand injuries. Didn't seem like he'd had anything broken, but if he had to wake up with his ass beat down for no good reason, then he was gonna find out just how bad he had it. Dean winced as he unwrapped some of the bandages on his right hand. It looked...well, okay, it could look worse, he guessed. Least no breaks. There were all kinds of weird cuts and abrasions, some of the skin on his fingers and palms rubbed raw and glistening in the cafeteria's overhead lights. Nevermind the split knuckles. Definitely seemed like he'd been in a fight - and fought back - but Dean couldn't remember a thing about last night. He re-wrapped the bandages before Hello Nurse came back with that glass of water.

Dean managed to beam at her, flashing his teeth in his best grin through the fresh bruises and bandages. "Thanks. I'm saved."

Hello Nurse's mouth thinned, but the corners lifted slightly. That, or he was imagining it, but Dean liked to think she wasn't anywhere as glacial as Doctor Kisugi.

"Take it easy for today, Mr. Derringer."

With that said, she took off. Dean was pretty sure she was into him. It wasn't so much what she said, but her body language, the way she kept leaning a little closer than a good professional should. Maybe the whole beat-up, bandaged up deal softened her up. Dean was willing to take one for the team, especially if it got them some intel, but right now he didn't feel up to it, fun as it probably would be. Right now he just focused on picking at his food, pushing breakfast around with a fork and annoyed to find that with the bandages in the way, his coordination with something as simple as a fork turned into crap. Like trying to pick things up with a glove made of putty. Every time he touched something it either hurt or he couldn't feel much of it through the bandages. Trying to eat wasn't much more fun either - it hurt to swallow too for some reason, and touching his neck, he wondered if he'd been choked or something last night. It definitely felt sore.

Dean put his fork down. He cradled his head in one heavily bandaged hand, closed his eyes and tried to focus, tried to remember. All he kept coming up with was a damn blank and a whole lot of new places saying they hurt that shouldn't have.

[Exclusively reserved for Sam Winchester]

Edited 2009-05-11 15:59 (UTC)

"Hey, I never said you did!" he said, putting his hands up in defense. Dammit women were- wait, what...

"I'm...confused. Why you bein' all nice now?" Maybe she realised he was pretty handsome. Hm. "Hey, look, no offense, you're probably attractive but...I ain't interested."

Honey was kind of disappointed when he found himself right back in his room first thing in the morning. They hadn't made it very far at all before night ended. He really hoped they'd had better luck in the other group. Honey rolled sleepily out of bed and wrapped up what was left of the cake, picking the strawberries off before they went bad, then pushing the rest under his bed for later.

He took Usa-chan with him and sleepily followed the nurse to breakfast. She made a tray for him and found him a seat, but once again there were very few sweets to be had. Honey sighed and sipped at his juice. It was going to be a long day.

[Free for threading. Limit: any. May or may not be pounced by Mori sometime along the way.]

Akihiko wasn't expecting -- wait. Little girl, about Ken's age or a little younger. Was this that friend of his that had contributed so much to the bulletin mess? Well, only one way to find out, and either way, it was a distraction from thinking about last night. So, he'd take it, either way.

"Oh, sure," he said, mustering up a smile and gesturing for her to take a seat. "I'm Akihiko. What's your name?"

He paused for just a second. "This might seem like an odd question, but. You don't happen to be a friend of Ken Amada's? I'm his senpai, if that's the case," he said, that smile turning a little more awkward than it had been.

In the short time since he had woken up, Kibitoshin had learned several things. The first of these was that he was not dreaming. The second of these was that he was in some kind of mental asylum.

The third of these was that there had been a terrible, terrible mistake.

The nurse who had found him was very kind, showing him around and explaining to him that he was here to get better. But he wasn’t insane, was he? A little highly strung, he could admit that, but… but not crazy! Hopefully the note (”http://community.livejournal.com/damned_bulletin/438560.html”) he’d left on the bulletin board would let whoever ran this place know that something wasn’t right. There was no point in panicking just yet. It was all just a big misunderstanding, right?

But… but what kind of power could spirit away a Kaioshin without him even realising?

“Here we go!” The nurse stopped him in front of the doors, gesturing into the room- a slowly filling cafeteria filled with good smells. It would have been almost comforting, had there not been a knot the size of a large fist in the pit of his stomach. “Just help yourself to whatever it is you want to eat. I’m sure some of the older patients will help you if you’re not sure.”

“Um… thank you.” Kibitoshin blinked at her a little uncertainly, at a loss for words. Then, realising that he was expected to actually make a move, he stumbled over to fill his tray and took a seat.

And then, as if lightning had struck, an idea took him. Why didn’t he just use his instantaneous movement? “Of course!” Snapping his fingers excitedly, he moved his index and middle fingers to his forehead and began to focus.

[NOT MUCH but fffff megatron. ♥]

The Nobody had taken to poking at his eggs with his fork and staring intently at his other hand, mind thinking back to the events of the night past. Or, to be more specific, he was playing a little game he liked to call "Whose Blood Is Under My Fingernails?" His nails were not even that long. How did it get under there?

Of course, then came the intrusive voice of one of Nursey's fellow McNursingson kin. It seemed even when he was not acting upon his good mood that it would be ruined. Wonderful.

Luxord briefly looked up to the stranger they saw fit to place with him. An older fellow, sixty-something perhaps. Decidedly not human. He hadn't even given the Nobody a polite greeting, only stared at as though he were some lesser creature. If he had to deal with someone who wished to challenge his superiority complex, X would be very...

Actually, he would be very entertained. That was always fun.

Still, after taking in what little information he could about the strange man ahead of him, Luxord simply went back to examining his nails. "No."

Sakura put a hand to her head, clearly frustrated. Why did this guy have so much trouble getting it?

"Ugh, whatever! It's too early in the morning to argue, okay?" she declared, picking up her fork again and stabbing a piece of sausage. This guy had to be even dumber than Naruto! Geez!

"And there's no way in hell I would date you either, so you don't have to worry about that."

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Day 41: Breakfast

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