damned_institute | Day 41: Intercom, Evening

When the intercom's jingle sounded, there seemed to be some kind of tapping in the background noise, like letters being punched into a keyboard. It stopped and the Head Doctor chuckled.

"Hello, everyone! I'm actually taking a break from paperwork for once – everyone needs some recreational time, you know! – and of course, now we can all look forward to a scrumptious dinner from our cooks. Tonight, herb-seasoned grilled salmon is on the menu, served with buttery mashed potatoes and asparagus. All our regular drinks and vegetarian options are available, and for dessert, we will be serving yellow cake with a whipped cream icing.

"...Well! I can hardly wait to get my own dinner after saying all that. Good bye for now, everyone, and enjoy your delicious food!"

The intercom clicked off.

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Weighting the rod first in both hands, then in one, Yuffie headed back towards her bed. Normally she'd try out a few tricks with it, because even if she wasn't actually gonna be keeping the thing, it probably had… some uses. When it wasn't getting smashed into splinters of splinters by a shuriken. "Must be getting boring, playing the hapless victim," she commented, dropping the makeshift staff and letting it lay where it landed. Just before she reached her desk, she paused - absurdly, with one foot still raised to take a step forward. "… Wait, forget it, I don't even want to know." The walking resumed.

Soon enough, she'd perched herself on the edge of her desk, and was poking at the cake. The yellow cake. Not too long ago, Yuffie had almost stayed the entire night in her room, with Sagara. It had been a bad day, and even the night had ended on a low note. Low, like, sunken ship low. Still, the bit where they'd been whacking each other with pillows had been fun. A… lot of fun. She was willing to bet that Sen and Robin hadn't been having a pillow fight.

Wrinkling her nose, she took a bite of cake.

"Boring? I suppose it is boring here, for the most part." By now Ayumu was starting to sound mildly offended by her roommate's comments, and she stabbed at her vegetables with somewhat more force than necessary. "I'm not playing at anything, Yuffie-han. Just because you've had a very different life wherever you came from, that doesn't mean you should say such things."

In truth, though, she did have to wonder how much longer the pretense would last, since so many things here seemed to be contributing to poking holes in it at almost every opportunity. Simply the fact that her cover was an utterly normal person was out of place here, and seemed to have been drawing suspicion from the beginning. Perhaps she should have claimed to have some kind of "special powers" at home, like so many others did.

Ah, well. No way to change the past now. Ayumu gave a light, almost disdainful sniff and turned away from Yuffie, ostensibly focusing all of her attention on her dinner rather than her roommate.

"Unlike some people, I don't sugarcoat the truth."

Sen was starting to sound irritable. Good. It was tons better than the hurt, the guilty-sad eyes, and the gushing - both verbal and not - over that Robin guy. Yuffie made it about a quarter of the way through her slice of cake before she started pushing it around the plate. "And believe me, I know what it's like for the people who really can't fight. Half of the reason I do what I do back home is so that the new generation doesn't have to, blah-blah-et-cetera. So that people can get on with their lives. You're just sticking your fingers in the eyes of the genuine ones."

She'd never had much patience for people who refused to stand up for themselves. That kind of wilful ignorance, that kind of weakness, it was pathetic. Yuffie just… she couldn't understand it. That wasn't what she fought for.

When Sen sniffed disdainfully and turned away, Yuffie shrugged, planted her hands against the desk, and flipped herself up so that she could hand-walk back onto her bed. There was still a bit of time before the doors opened. She could spend a bit of time relaxing and scribbling a few notes in her journal, and she was more than happy to tune out her roommate. This was one awkward silence that she didn't care one whit to disturb.

Collapsing smoothly onto her side, she flipped open her journal and began to write.

Day 41: Intercom, Evening

Re: F4

Re: F4

Re: F4