Day 22: Brunch

[dawning-dreams.livejournal.com]

Cid usually liked sleeping in, especially in a place as messed up and uninviting as this, but this happened to be one situation where he really wished he hadn't.

Right there, on the bulletin board. The Head Doctor and he'd fucking missed it? Some part of him wished he'd been there to take his eye out and another part of him knew he wouldn't have been able to. No man that powerful who hid for so long went to dangerous places without some kind of entourage.

Brunch sounded like it'd be filling, at least, though he nearly stopped in his tracks when the bastard announced TEA. TEA. It'd been a damn long while since he'd had some fucking tea, though with all the stress this place had found fit to rain down on his fucking head, it hadn't really been the first priority on his mind. Kinda nice, even if Cid was sure this was just some game the mother fucker was playing to get them all stuck neck-deep in Stockholm Syndrome.

He scanned the mostly-empty room for any sign of a familiar face once he'd piled waffles and sausages and syrup on his plate, though the person he really wanted to talk to was that Reynolds guy. "Spaceship" was the last word he remembered clearly before waking up in his bed, and dammit if he wasn't going to keep it stuck like glue in his mind.

He found a table where he could watch people come into the cafeteria and grabbed for his mug. The steam rising from his drink and the bag of herbs in it was nearly enough to make him grin despite it all, and it was with marked leisure and a little relief that he drank his goddamn tea.

Comments

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

Tea. They had tea now. While under normal circumstances, the Gambler would have been rather picky about the type of tea, or the lack of alcohol in it, but in this abomination… Tea was tea. It was goddamn tea, and he'd not complain, none the less sprinkle his paranoia of laced drugs onto the drink (which was odd, as he continued to refuse the other foods, much to Nursey's distain.)

The was a soft clinking sound as he placed the mug down onto the table, followed by the rustling of sugar packets and cup of milk. They hadn't any honey, but it was close enough, he supposed. The meek looking girl sitting at the table had not gone unnoticed either, and in the mood he supposed he was in now (after getting tea, bothering the Keybrat and his friends, and simply lying to people in general, he thought he should be positively glowly), he really had no excuse to be rude to her.

So, he gave her a smile and gestured to the seat near her. "Hello there, Miss. You wouldn't be too upset if I sat here, no?" It seemed II and the Keyblade Master were not yet speaking of anything of importance. He'd just chatter here, for now.

[rope-victim.livejournal.com]

Miku looked up from rolling a strawberry across the plate, surprised. The man before her looked kind of, sort of, in a way, not really less non-threatening than some of the wildly spiky haired people she'd seen.

Say something, Miku, Rei would make fun of you if you were all tongue-tied! she told herself and met his eyes for a split second before looking back down at her half-poked to death meal.

"Um, yes, you may." Miku replied softly. "I don't mind at all."

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

Aww, a shy one. He'd not run into that sort as of late, aside from Naminé was she okay?. Classically avoiding the chaos around him, the blond took the seat, carefully mixing his tea with both sugar and milk as he hummed lightly to himself.

Yes. Today was better than most.

"I've not seen you here, miss. I would have to guess you as a newcomer," he said rather matter-of-factly as he finished pouring the last of his sugar into the mug. Ah, tea. Glorious, glorious tea. He sipped it with a pleased grin on his face before turning his attention back to the girl before him, eyes bright with interest. "Do you happen to know what has become of you?"

[rope-victim.livejournal.com]

"Become of me...?" Miku repeated and looked at him, and the now unrecognizable poked-to-death strawberry. "I'm not sure." She shrugged and looked at him again curiously.

"I was dreaming, and I woke up here..." she stopped herself, because she was being terribly chatty and a random (if very silver-tongued) stranger probably didn't need to know all about her. Or that she'd been dreaming of Mafuyu.

"I'm really sorry, I should tell you my name first," Miku bowed her head apologetically. "My name is Hinasaki Miku, it's nice to meet you."

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

"Yes, become of you. How you've ended here, and the circumstances of which," he explained, giving a simple nod in affirmative to his own words. How he did love to speak endlessly, but that was not so secret as he continued on. "This place- this asylum," the Gambler corrected, "will lie to you. It would be wise to ignore the statements from the staff, as the only true answer to your plight is your faith in yourself."

Another sip of tea before putting it back down. "But wherever are my manners? 'tis a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hinasaki," he held out a hand, deciding to play this one a bit, and gave her a charming smile (no harm in getting further in this game, after all). "My name is Rould. Rould Gillespie."

He wasn't too sure why he decided to lie about his name, however (technically a lie, it wasn't his name anymore). Spur of the moment.

[rope-victim.livejournal.com]

Miku shook his hand and nodded. She'd remember the name, just in case, she decided, "I'm not sure, I went to bed last night, just like always, and woke up here." She looked at him from beneath her lashes, their handshake no more than a quick touch before hers came back and rested below the table in her lap.

"It's not even the same year, or even the same country..." she said, and that look of puzzlement reappeared on her face. Miku nibbled at a piece of bread-covered jam, and kept her eyes on her conversation companion's chin. She didn't know anyone with facial hair quite like his.

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

He almost brought that hand to his mouth, as accustomed to kissing the hands of women, but it was removed from his grasp so quickly and without warning. Huh. "Well, Ms. Hinasaki, I find it is my duty to warn you of this facility. It is not as it appears, even less a…"

…No.

In mid-speech, the blond almost cracked open his tea mug, the offending image of a man trying to pick up his baby Naminé! For the first time in a long time, Luxord actually stammered, his attention completely drawn away from the task at hand. It seemed II had much of the same idea as he…

"E-e… excuse me, Ms. Hinasaki. I've business to attend to. I promise, I'll not be long."

Without an explanation, Luxord left. Someone needed to learn a lesson.

[rope-victim.livejournal.com]

Miku watched him go with a mixture of unease and perplexion. She already knew this place was strange, when someone tells you your given name is totally different and takes away your personal belongings...

...Well, it wasn't as if her head was decoration. She looked back to her plate of poked food and nibbled on her bread and jam, sipped her tepid tea and made a face. The teabags they were using were stale-tasting to her. Maybe Yuu and Rei had spoiled her a little bit, when they had bought that canister of tea.

Miku stopped eating and pushed her plate away, the fruit was mangled beyond recognition, the bread half-eaten, and hardly looked as though she'd bothered to feed herself to fullness.

But she was beginning to think that she'd just have to investigate exactly what Mr Gillespie meant when he said he'd have to warn her about this place.