damned_institute | Day 43: Arts & Crafts Room (4th Shift)

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Day 43: Arts & Crafts Room (4th Shift)

When Momo left Hitsugaya's side, she felt both relieved to be away from him and disappointed that the nurses had separated them. Either way, she felt like she was suffocating, that she had too much building in her mind with all this on top of the message she'd been given by the undead knight on that rooftop the night before. There was only one way for Momo to relieve the pressure.

After leaving a note on the board for Senna, Momo headed into the Arts & Crafts room. She was still in a lot of pain, but Hitsugaya's healing, though minor, did make it much less painful to hold things. Taking all of the special markers, she stood before the large white board and uncapped the lightest of the colors - yellow.

Save thyself.

Those words would echo in Momo's mind for a very long time. She had much to thank the knight for, the least of which was leaving her right arm relatively undamaged. She needed it for many things, being her primary hand, but right now she needed it for one thing.

Momo began to draw.

[reserved for Senna]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[late and stealing the Momo.]

She felt heavy. Everything in her felt heavy. This was way too much, and so much of her was glad to be able to toss all of that responsibility aside. Though, she knew that wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

The A&C room was familiar, though she hadn't stepped foot in it for almost a week. She had met Demyx here, resolved herself to go with the Nobodies if and when they left, and now she was meeting Momo here? Senna grimaced, the slightest touch of humor in it. Who said the universe couldn't have irony? She hadn't thought about that strange choice at all lately, especially now, and here it was basically thrown at her. The girl sighed as she walked in the room, hand rubbing at the back of her neck. Today... was a long day.

The Shinigami she was looking for was at a drawing board, sketching something in a light color. To Senna, creating meant life, and something in her shifted, squeezed tight to the hope for Momo that she had held on to. Maybe... she might be okay. Senna stepped up to her silently, hating to interrupt. The girl bit her lip uncertainly, remembering her own contribution to this room. Not supposed to exist. She hated it, had wrote it down, and found someone who was affected by the sentiment the same way. Did Momo, too, find someone once, that knew why she was drawing?

Senna had a suspicion. She wouldn't voice it for life, though she might have once. She had a suspicion. And she hoped that she was wrong. Maybe Momo had... found something that she lacked within the lines.

When Senna first arrived, Momo did not turn to her or even speak up. She could sense the other shinigami's presence, but she was focused on the board. It felt so amazing to be able to draw again. The sketch had developed into two figures, one shorter than the other and both both were slowly starting to appear female with the short defining strokes Momo was using.

She wished she could put her left hand to the board, to feel the surface as she drew, but that was something she could not. Her entire left arm was in a sling, though it did nothing to hide the heavy bandaging on the entire arm. Both her hands were wrapped in gauze such that someone with the right knowledge could tell that both were quite burned, though she appeared to hold the markers with less pain than one would expect. After a few more lines with the yellow, Momo's basic form had been sketched and it was time to switch to a different color, one to make more exact lines with. Coming to this natural pause, she turned from the board to Senna.

She moved slowly, as if breathing hurt, and there were several burns across her face and down her neck as if she'd been in the center of a blazing fire. Yet, there was an odd clarity to Momo's eyes that had been missing for nearly a week.

Setting the yellow down, Momo picked up the black marker. "Hello, Senna-san," she said, her voice quiet and raspy.

She watched for a bit, at the figures appearing out of nothing, telling a story with the lines. Minutes passed, moments, and the girl remained still. Waiting for something that she didn't know. Momo turned then, shifted Senna's way, and Senna's eyes widened, mouth opening in surprise. How had...? Last night? There were fires, but something like this... Like she had been in the flames herself.

The other difference in Momo called attention from Senna as well, and Senna's expression slid into a kind of shifted-casual, one side of her mouth quirked upwards. The girl shifted her weight subtlety, and drew a hand up to rest on one hip. "So," she said with the same calm tone she had been using all day, with only the slightest trace of her normal good humor. "You look good. Have a productive night?"

A somewhat amused chuckle came from Momo at Senna's words.

"More painful than productive, Senna-san," she replied. "You must be under some kind of illusion spell if you think I look good. I haven't been this burnt since I last got into an argument with Tobiume." That was when she'd attempted bankai and failed. Miserably.

Tobiume. Somehow she remembered the name. Her zanpakuto. Last time, she had asked about it hadn't gone over well. Senna didn't need to reaffirm it. Her hand rose unconsciously to the light wrapping on her own arm, scratching at a corner. She kept eye contact, voice still even at this. "No. I'm right. You look alive." A beat, then she corrected herself. "You look like you're really alive. Not just living."

Momo's eyes flickered to the bandage on Senna's arm, but she didn't say anything. Hopefully, the girl hadn't gotten bitten, though it wouldn't surprise her if she had.

She looked down at her own hands, flexing her fingers even though they hurt and she remembered the intense heat of Laevatein. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she looked up. "It seems so. You, on the other hand, are not looking particularly well. Thoughts in your mind too much?"

The smile reaffirmed her own thoughts, though Senna had already decided that Momo was looking better. Burns or not, injuries or not; it was the internal ones that mattered, that really needed to heal. And wasn't she the one to talk?

"You could say that," she answered, gaze drifting to the side instead. And what would be the cause? The A&C club, the new stuff with the Institute? Not being good enough last night, or the simple fact of last night? The Blank-like zombies, the dead horse, the memory that had rose up to overtake something in her. She wasn't allowed to forget. That she wasn't--

Ah. Not now. C'mon, Senna. Hold it together just a little bit longer. She swallowed, shifting her mind back a few subjects. Anything but the actual issue, right? That was mature. "I wanted to grab your thoughts on a few things." It was obvious now, that she wasn't acting like she normally would. The girl was much too distanced--even her normal way of skirting questions put to her allowed a feeling of closeness better than this. But for that... Maybe tomorrow. Today was a business day, right? Right. One thing at a time.

The aversion of Senna's gaze told Momo far more than the girl probably wanted her to know. Still, if anything, last night had shown her that sometimes a person really did need to hit rock bottom before they finally picked herself back up again. She hoped it wouldn't come to that for Senna. Not everyone had an undead knight around to hit them over the head with a flaming broadsword when they had fallen so far.

"My thoughts are always available to you," Momo replied. Her fingers twitched, that need building back up in her. She turned back to the board, uncapped the black marker and once again began to draw. "My apologies for doing this as we talk, but I need to get it out."

"No problem," she replied, the words a breath of air. Relief, yeah, that was it. Without Momo looking at her... It was somehow a little better. The girl walked off, then came back, dragging a chair behind her. She sat backwards in it, arms crossed on top, as she watched Momo draw.

"Opinion stuff first," the girl said, voice coming a little clearer now. "What's up with this military crap over the intercom? Got any thoughts on it?"

"You are referring to IRIS?" Momo's hand moved surely across the board, smooth line replacing the sketchy yellow. Idly, she wondered if Senna had ever met Signum. She couldn't remember...

"Given the experiments and the way this place is, I always suspected there was a military application behind it, despite it seeming to be an inter-dimensional penal colony," she replied. "I suspect that this IRIS thing was the interface they used prior to Landel's ascension."

She paused mid-stroke. "Though it does make me wonder..." Sometimes this place reminded her far too much of the Twelfth's laboratories. "Perhaps this is just a new attempt to lower out morale, by removing the face that has granted us focus." She picked up where she left off.

Senna nodded, fingers tapping idly on the chair-back. An interface. So.... "So you think that's what it is, then? A kind of..." The right words escaped her. "Training facility or something?"

It was... fucking retarded. If that was the case. Seriously. Harnessing these kinds of people, of beings, for something like... like wars or weapons! It was so stupid! Frowning, the girl tried to catch something she had missed. "What makes you think that it was from before the day?"

If it was just something to lower morale... It was almost preferable. "It would make sense. Especially after how last night went. Do you think that might be it?"

"Originally, yes," Momo replied. "You never went to the Academy, yourself, but perhaps you can... recall bits and pieces of it. Take that and combine it with anything you may... recall about the Twelfth and the things they create." Perhaps the Twelfth had a hand in the Shinenju's creation. Momo decided she didn't want to know. "And then compare it to this place now that we are aware of IRIS."

Long flowing hair seemed to suddenly appear on the taller figure Momo was drawing, the line so light and precise it was easy to picture. "I am of the opinion that Landel and Doyle were both equals in this military facility, heading different departments." She glanced up. "Like different divisions, and were staunch rivals, both vying for power and, more importantly, influence with their superiors."

So many possibilities. "Perhaps they were aware that the head of the training program was to retire soon and a successor had not been named yet. Such opportunities can always turn friends into venomous rivals. Add to that their personal involvements with that wo--"

Momo suddenly stopped, marker moving away from the board and she blinked. Something had suddenly dawned on her.

'Recalling' as Momo said, was limited mainly to impressions, the bits and pieces showing themselves through Senna's movements and habitual behaviors--things there, but never really learned. She tried regardless, mind shifting through the rubble and coming up with a decent amount of nothing. She nodded, to nothing it seemed, and frowned. In truth, she didn't even remember the different divisions. Knew of them in a vague sense, but anything more was... Asking too much. A tongue darted out to run along her lips. Things like this made her too nervous.

Luckily for Senna, Momo then paused in realization, causing the purple-haired girl to look up, concerned. "What? What's wrong?"

"Landel and Doyle's friendship was destroyed because of a woman, if you believe their heated conversations via the intercom and radio."

She paused and turned to Senna. "IRIS," Momo said.

Senna's expression shifted fluidly, past thoughts giving way to complete confusion. "Wait--what?" She rubbed at her eyes for a minute, then looked up again with the same expression. "They fought over a robot?"

Things here... Were getting stranger and stranger.

Momo couldn't help but give a light chuckle at Senna's reaction. "No, not a robot - the voice, Senna-chan. Where do you think it came from?"

Turning back to the board, the vice captain resumed the process of creation. "You will find that many a researcher, many a developer, will name important projects after someone or something that holds significance to them."

She frowned, still a little confused. Yeah, she got that. Now. Named after a chick. Sure. Why not? Stranger things and all, and guys were like that sometimes. The question now being... "So. Who's the chick?"

"That, I do not know," Momo replied. "Perhaps a fellow researcher. Perhaps one of the original test subjects."

"So what..." She thought out loud. "So where does that leave us?"

The us used gave rise to her own memory, and Senna blinked then, remembering. Ah. Shit. She swallowed, glancing to the side. "There was another thing I wanted to talk to you about. A&C." She paused, working over the questions she had. "Hitsugaya wants to lead again."

Fucking hell. That was not how she wanted to start this.

"I know," Momo replied softly, a bit of tension seen at the corner of her eyes. She appeared to focus more on the drawing before her than before.

"I spoke with him about it last shift," she continued. "Tell me, what do you want to happen with Arts & Crafts?"

"Me? I..." The question came out of nowhere, causing her own questions to fall to the floor. Senna blinked, mimicking Hanatarou for a second--My opinion, my thoughts? Why would you want those? Momo's own eyes seemed locked on her picture, and Senna was grateful for that, staring at her in a kind of strange confused desperation. And what was she supposed to--?

...No, not supposed to. What did she want to happen? No matter her own strange decision, right now A&C was home, just like LDGC was family. Senna's eyes flicked down, gaze shifting from one foot to the other. "I want... It to be something for people to hold on to. Something stable and safe, even if it's not, because it's something, you know? Something there for people." Just people needed that, and being able to provide that.... Senna liked that. She liked being someone who could be a source of comfort, even inadvertently.

Edited 2009-08-29 06:37 (UTC)

Nodding at the response, Momo added definition to the figures' clothing, the shorter one quickly looking like herself. She'd been right when she'd given Celes the warning about Senna. Momo almost wished she could be a part of it.

"And how do you see that developing? What do you think of Hitsugaya-taichou's decision?"

"How do I..." Her brows creased, and then suddenly she blinked, frowning. "Hey. You know, these were the questions I was going to put to you. Among other things," she added with a sigh. Senna leaned forward, putting her chin on her arms. "Aren't you more qualified to answer those kind of things?"

"Why would I be more qualified?" Momo added Tobiume to the hand of her own figure. "I am no longer a part of Arts & Crafts, Senna-chan."

Momo didn't even notice that she'd changed Senna's honorific.

"Yeah, but you were," she argued, leaving her head on her arms. "You ran it, pretty fucking well for awhile, and you're part of the thirteen divisions. A vice-captain. So you're qualified."

Senna frowned, feeling like she was whining. "I came to you because I wanted your opinions. I'm good with following people as long as we're going somewhere, you know? I want to make sure that's happening."

Day 43: Arts & Crafts Room (4th Shift)

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