damned_institute | Day 22: Brunch

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"In the sense that I play music, oui," Waka replied with a slight nod(if the boy didn't understand the word, at least the nod would clue him in). "But it is not my profession. I am a prophet, a tao master." He considered adding 'the gods' gift to man' and decided against it. He doubted the boy would truly be able to appreciate the truth of it.

He glanced over his shoulder at the commotion in the middle of the cafeteria - some sort of uncivilized fistfight - with a faint expression of distaste before turning back to the boy. "Perhaps you would like me to play for you? It would certainly improve the atmosphere."

"A prophet?..." Ari repeated, looking surprised. That was...different. And kind of exciting, too.

His attention was drawn away when the man looked towards some fight. It looked brutal, and Ari grimaced slightly. He shied from such intense physical violence if he could... If it was unnecessary.

The proposition of music, though, brightened Ari's expression and he nodded eagerly when he looked back to the pretty man.

"Tres bien." Waka smiled at the boy; they hadn't even been introduced but no one so happy to hear his flute could be a bad person, after all. That much was obvious.

Food forgotten - it wasn't as though he had a lot of it to forget in any case - Waka lifted his beloved flute and began to play (http://youtube.com/watch?v=wcy4Pk4Jcss).

Ari forgot about his food as well when he heard the pretty man begin to play. It was so nice... Nothing at all like Linda's impromptu performance had been... Of course, in comparison, most things would have sounded better than her at the time.

Still, the boy found himself smiling slightly as he closed his eyes to better listen to the music.

Waka played for some time before he lowered the flute; entirely aside from taking some genuine pleasure in playing for an appreciative audience(it had been some time since he'd had any audience at all, at least aside from Amaterasu and Issun), the music also soothed his own unease at being in this strange and inexplicable place with its complete lack of taste in food, clothing, and architecture.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," he announced after a moment. "My name is Waka."

Ari opened his eyes once the music stopped, though the echo of the melody was still drifting about in his head. It was quite possibly the most beautiful music he'd heard in a while, and he wanted to hold onto it as long as possible.

"I'm Ari," he replied to the introduction, following soon after with "Where did you learn to play like that?"

"Nice to meet you, Ari." Waka smiled at the boy. Really, how long had it been since someone had truly savored his music? It was probably his own fault, keeping to himself as he did, but the people of Nippon would have been knocking his door down for exorcisms (of even the weakest demons, hardly worth thinking about when there were far stronger ones for Waka to be concerned with) and assistance and fortunes and who knew what else if he made himself readily available. And that would have interfered with his greater duty not just to Queen Himiko, but to Amaterasu in setting her on the path that would lead her back to the heavens where she belonged.

"I'm flattered you like my music. I could play for you again some time."

Ari nodded, a smile passing across his lips at the prospect of hearing the music again. It was nice, and he liked this man, Waka. Even if he spoke a little weird. At least he was easier to understand than some of the other people he'd met. And he wasn't mean, like that other man had been.

"Where do you come from?" he asked suddenly, curiosity overriding his shyness.

"Nippon," Waka answered promptly, and rather vaguely. If there were a more specific place than that in which he resided, that was anyone's guess. "I don't believe that's anywhere near here, however...everything seems very foreign here." If Nippon weren't quite some distance from this place, Waka reasoned, the cuisine at least wouldn't be so...distasteful.

He spun his flute absently between his fingers. "Have you ever heard of a person called Jun Moreau?"

Nippon... Ari frowned a bit as he heard the word. He'd never heard of that place, either. Maybe it was another world, like the one Qui-Gon had come from... Waka wasn't the only one that was feeling out of place, though. "I don't think anyone is from around here. Wherever here is..." Ari commented briefly. At least, that's what he'd been hearing from other patients and whatnot.

The boy shook his head to the mention of Jun Moreau. "Who is that?"

"I've no idea, but the staff seems to believe I am him and no amount of protests will convince them otherwise." Waka tapped his flute absently against his chin. "I was wondering if he was someone I ought to know about."

Waka turned and smiled at the boy. "Well, Ari, my little friend, I suppose further conversation will have to wait for another time. I believe the staff are coming to take us elsewhere." The statement was made a full minute before the announcement for shift change was made, but who was keeping track?

Ari shrugged. Didn't everyone have weird names here? Well, names that they weren't supposed to be called, anyway. Not necessarily weird. The boy didn't know an 'Anthony Hopkins', but the staff insisted that person was him...

At the mention of the staff coming to take them elsewhere, Ari glanced from side to side, looking for the approaching nurses...but there was none. He frowned, a confused look as he turned his head to look up at Waka again. "What do you mean?" he asked, only to be answered by the announcement calling for the change of shift.

Ari blinked, surprised. Did Waka know that was going to happen? It was hard to believe, but he did say he was a prophet, right? He just didn't think prophets, well...prophesied the little stuff...

"I guess I'll see you later, then..." the boy said as his nurse came over to usher him to the next room. He didn't want to leave his new friend, but he'd already seen the results of too many fights today. And he had no urge to be sedated any time soon...

Day 22: Brunch

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject