ext_201926 (
thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com) wrote in
damned_institute2009-07-03 01:21 am
Entry tags:
- aidou,
- alfred,
- anise,
- argilla,
- armand,
- asch,
- batman,
- belphegor,
- bridget,
- celes,
- chidori,
- claude,
- daredevil,
- edgeworth,
- franziska,
- frey,
- grell,
- guy,
- hanatarou,
- hanekoma,
- homura,
- jade,
- javert,
- joshua,
- junpei,
- kagura,
- kenren,
- luxord,
- michael westen,
- nathan petrelli,
- okita,
- peter parker,
- peter petrelli,
- porky,
- roland,
- takaya,
- the flash,
- tk-622,
- yuffie
Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant
Yuffie took the long way around, practically making it a tour of the entire town. She collared--not literally, since the nurses would've thrown fits--a few random citizens along the way, asked as many inconspicuous sounding questions as possible, and then moved on. Wash, rinse, repeat. Sneaking a few covert glimpses into stores and windows confirmed what she'd been talking about with Sam earlier; no dates, no explicitly mentioned locations outside of the town itself… how weird was that? Even the most insular of towns back on Gaia would've coughed up some kind of connection with the outside world.
It was almost like a living ghost town.
Well, maybe she was just thinking too hard. Maybe she was throwing shuriken too hard at the wrong target. Back home, she had a concrete frame of reference. Here, she couldn't take anything for granted; she had no local or international knowledge whatsoever. All she could try to do was get a profile of the immediate area and build it up and out from there. Theories were already budding, popping up like weeds hit by Quadra-Haste, but without facts to back them up, theories were like sand in a desert.
Not that she didn't want to share those theories, sand or not. She did. A lot.
Once she'd developed a viable mental map of the place (as viable as she was gonna get given the time constraints), Yuffie swung back around and jogged back to North Street. From there, she took the alley; a quick right turn; slow to a trot, and there. Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold winter air, and they stung as she poked her head in through the door.
Okay, so maybe she was a little early after all. That was cool. Very cool. She had some time to set things up, to pretend that she wasn't hideously under prepared for this lunch date. Stepping into the warmth, Yuffie surreptitiously cased the place out as she headed to a table. Homey, in a way that almost reminded her of some of the up-and-coming rural towns. Automatically seeking out one of the more strategic seats--one with a good view of the rest of the restaurant, and one that didn't leave her totally vulnerable to mutant chairs or murderous sandwiches--she made herself comfortable, whipped out a few crumpled pieces of paper and a pen, and began to jot down her findings.
[Closed to Edgeworth.]
It was almost like a living ghost town.
Well, maybe she was just thinking too hard. Maybe she was throwing shuriken too hard at the wrong target. Back home, she had a concrete frame of reference. Here, she couldn't take anything for granted; she had no local or international knowledge whatsoever. All she could try to do was get a profile of the immediate area and build it up and out from there. Theories were already budding, popping up like weeds hit by Quadra-Haste, but without facts to back them up, theories were like sand in a desert.
Not that she didn't want to share those theories, sand or not. She did. A lot.
Once she'd developed a viable mental map of the place (as viable as she was gonna get given the time constraints), Yuffie swung back around and jogged back to North Street. From there, she took the alley; a quick right turn; slow to a trot, and there. Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold winter air, and they stung as she poked her head in through the door.
Okay, so maybe she was a little early after all. That was cool. Very cool. She had some time to set things up, to pretend that she wasn't hideously under prepared for this lunch date. Stepping into the warmth, Yuffie surreptitiously cased the place out as she headed to a table. Homey, in a way that almost reminded her of some of the up-and-coming rural towns. Automatically seeking out one of the more strategic seats--one with a good view of the rest of the restaurant, and one that didn't leave her totally vulnerable to mutant chairs or murderous sandwiches--she made herself comfortable, whipped out a few crumpled pieces of paper and a pen, and began to jot down her findings.
[Closed to Edgeworth.]
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Of course, Belphegor was still almost incredibly sullen from the realization that no, he wasn't going home, and yes, nobody had ever even heard of him here. Reputations were annoying things to build up from scratch, especially without so much as a penknife and razor wire, and he was almost positive that he would bore himself by trying.
At any rate, he moved to one of the far booths and sat down, adjusting his scarf to stay out of his way while he glanced over the menu. Nothing impressive at all, and of course, nothing that he was quite used to. At the very least, it was a tiny bit better than the stupid germy lunches they'd been given- and had less of a chance of being poisoned. Besides, if he didn't want to starve, Belphegor would need to eat, and soon.
So, it's with a languid sigh that he ordered a bowl of pasta and glass of milk to go alongside it, before resting his palm in his chin and boredly glancing around at the smattering of people seated at various places in the restaurant. None of them looked particularly interesting.
[for Porky <3]
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As Porky walked in, he took a look around the establishment for any familiar faces. It didn't look like many patients were here yet, but it was almost sure to fill up soon. Then again, a lack of customers meant that the kitchen wouldn't have as many orders to fill, and that meant that Porky would get his meal sooner!
Porky walked to the back of the restaurant, not eager to sit in plain sight for all to see. Now, which booth should...What, who was that? He looked so familiar...
Porky moved closer to get a closer look, and could barely hold back a gasp when he realized who it was. Without pausing for a moment, Porky nearly sprinted to the booth that the boy was sitting at and sat down across from him.
"How..." Porky stuttered, "Why...How did you get here?! This shouldn't be possible!"
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Bel could only stare as the other slid into the seat across from him, frowning slightly and a little too surprised at the sudden loud address to exude an aura of 'do not come near me'. At the words, Belphegor just sort of stared towards him, before calmly reaching out and taking a sip of milk.
It's another moment before he can calm himself enough to reply with an utter deadpan tone. "Don't ask the prince questions in such a voice, copycat."
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"There's no doubt about it! It...It really is you! But...how is this possible?! I mean...there's just no way that we can both be here! Ah, by the way, I'll have some pork chops and a vanilla milkshake, please," Porky said, first to...Porky, and then to the waitress that had approached the booth to see what the commotion was, "Oh, and sorry for the ruckus. We're, uh...family."
Confused, the waitress walked off to send Porky's order to the kitchen. Leaving the two to their conversation.
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...But how in hell did Rasiel get taller than him? And fatter? And besides, the last Belphegor had seen of his dear twin brother, the eight year old boy was rotting in his own blood in the bottom of a hastily-dug grave. Bel's fingers twitched toward the butter knife at the memory, before trying to assert logic here. If this was Rasiel, Bel would be fighting for his life right now, not to mention his first words would have been something about superiority and birthrights. As it was, this... odd lookalike said no such thing- instead, appeared excited to see him, mentioned there was no way they could both be present... Something was clearly amiss.
"...who are you?" Probably not the best of questions to ask to someone who was this excited to recognize him, but Belphegor was honestly left searching for some kind of explanation for this... whatever the hell it was.
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Porky couldn't help but laugh some more. This was simply too good to be true! With two Porkys at the institute, there was no way that Porky could fail! Uh, the older Porky, that is. Porky had had enough experience with time travel to know that young Porky was essentially guaranteed to get out of the institute alive. After all, if older Porky was still here, young Porky must have eventually escaped the institute.
"This is a miracle!" Porky said, grinning, "My God, what a fool Landel is!"
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"You're not me." He murmurs, shaking his head with a small laugh- what a fool Landel was? More like this misguided idiot. "If I live to be one hundred, I will never be that fat."
True, Belphegor himself was small, even for his age. Height-wise and weight-wise, there was simply no way. Not in a million years. "But." He offered afterward, leaning back in his chair. "You've done a nice job in attempting to copy the prince's hair and face, I suppose I could give you that."
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Porky rubbed his stomach somewhat sadly.
"Well, there's not much exercise to be had if you're unable to move..." Porky said a little somberly, before getting excited again, "But that's hardly important! If you think being a prince is good, just wait till you're king! You're going to have an entire army under your control! You'll have your own harem at your beck and call! You'll even have an entire building filled with toilets in case you want some variety! Trust me, you may laugh at this gut now, but you'll be perfectly fine with it eventually!"
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Still... there was the question of how he claimed to know all of this. All of the offers were almost wildly tempting, and Bel gave an almost notable twitch at the word king, but at the same time, unless this man was... somehow psychic or something, then there was simply no way he could be sure that they were the same person. And besides, ten thousand seemed like an awful long time, and as far as he knew, Belphegor was in fact, quite mortal.
"Tell me, then. How do you know I'm you?" A slight smirk. "For all I know, you're just a tempting old fool sent here by an enemy, or even Landel himself as some sort of psychological experiment."
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"Then again, perhaps you're still not convinced," Porky said, a devious grin on his face, "I'll tell you what. Ask me what my name is."
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At the demand, he raised an eyebrow behind his hair, before giving it a moment of lazy thought.
"Hm," He hummed out, taking a sip of his milk, and trying to absorb this all while still keeping a calm face. "Just because you say your name is the same as mine doesn't mean anything. You could be a liar. Or, quite simply, you've done your homework on me and decided to use my name as your own in an attempt to unsettle me." Belphegor smirks once more- now that he's proven that this guy's answer doesn't mean anything, he asks: "But I'll play along- tell me your name."
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Oh, SHIT.
"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!" Porky shouted, "Oh, son of a BITCH! You mean I told you all of that for NOTHING?! No, it can't be! S-Stop joking around! Dammit, I know that you're just kidding!"
No no no! This can't be happening! Porky did not just tell this brat his life story for nothing!
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"Too bad." He murmurs out, on another fleeting chuckle. Belphegor leans in, his smile nice and wide and cruel. "Pleased to meet you," He murmurs, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm. "I'm prince Belphegor."
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After he had finished his outburst, he started slamming his forehead on the table. After a few whacks on the head, Porky simply laid his head on the table. He laid there for a few moments, completely immobile, and then raised his right hand and put it in front of Belphegor.
"Pleased to meet you," Porky mumbled weakly.
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At the extended hand... well, Belphegor watched that as well, his body language pretty much admitting that he wasn't even considering shaking his hand, king or no.
"Ten thousand years, hm?" Bel asked with a tilt of his head and another large, condescending grin. "All that time, and never learning to hold your tongue."
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"Well, what can I say?" Porky said, managing to smile weakly, "Wisdom doesn't necessarily come with age. And besides, it's not like I'm always this...verbose. Normally I'm a lot more secretive about things."
Suddenly, Porky lit up.
"Hey!" Porky said, grinning, "Wait a minute, if I thought that you were just like me, then that means..."
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Porky suddenly pointed right at Belphegor.
"No one here likes you!" Porky stated triumphantly, "And around here, if you don't have at least one person that trusts you, you may as well be dead. Do you see what I'm driving at here? Ah, thank you."
After he had finished talking to Belphegor, the waitress returned with Porky's meal, visibly shaken by his behavior earlier. Without waiting for her to leave, Porky took his fork and knife and began shoveling the pork chops into his mouth.
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His wrist flicked and the fork embedded itself into the soft padding of the booth next to Porky, and Bel scoffed. "I'm the prince. Everyone likes me, idiot."
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When Porky realized that Belphegor wasn't aiming for him, he straightened up and pointed at Belphegor again.
"See? See?!" Porky said excitedly, "If you act like that here, you're as good as dead! Even the bad guys that got sent here won't hang out with you if you're..."
Porky briefly considered saying "an arrogant prick," but then settled on a more tactful answer. After all, Porky couldn't go around saying he had tact if he never used it.
"If you're so rash!" Porky finally said, "You need to learn to be humble! I know that it seems impossible now, but trust me, it's a necessity here."
"But fine," Porky said with a devious grin on his face, "If you're so popular, then I'm sure you have plans for tonight, right? I mean, everyone likes you, right?"
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True enough, he hadn't many plans. He hardly knew anyone here (save for his roommate and his disgusting little friend), and making friends wasn't exactly the first thing to do on Belphegor's list. Nevertheless, it wasn't like he was just going to admit that to the fool, so he simply shrugged and gave a little hum.
"I refuse to spend time with paupers," he murmurs, taking a sip of his milk, "now hand me my fork back."
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"Besides..." Porky said, this time a little more slyly, "It's not like you wouldn't get anything out of the deal if you decided to hang out with me. I may not be much in the fighting department, but when it comes to information, I'm top notch. I know where you could maybe get...a knife or two. Would that interest you?"
Porky took the fork out of the seat next to him and held it out in front of Belphegor.
"So what do you say, Prince Belphegor?" Porky said.