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]

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HK sank down slightly in his seat, normally perfectly stiff posture disintegrating in the face of icky meatbagness. "Statement: I personally have no idea whatsoever and I wish it would go away. It isn't simply the details of the relationship, it is the fact that there is one and I do not know what to do with it." Yet somehow he hadn't done much more than wish. Which was vaguely worrying. "Unfortunately without attempting brain surgery, I can't stab this unfortunate distraction from an otherwise perfectly enjoyable working relationship out of existence."

Sigh. At least there was still confusing Force things to talk about. "Answer: It seems to be tied to organic life to some extent, as only meatbags can employ it. However, meatbags cannot sense the intentions of anything inorganic and it is more difficult to detect their presence, making a very well-constructed droid such as myself the preferable means of dispatching Jedi, the Sith's opposites, or any traitorous Sith themselves."

"Awww, your master not make you with protocols for handling non-business relations?" she laughed. He was like some overgrown child. A big, robotic, meatbag-killing child. "Is the attention really so horrible?"

This whole "Force" thing sounded like chi or ki or qi or whatever else people wanted to call it to Yukari. Of course, not that martial artists ever had to fight robots, but she supposed someone made of metal wouldn't register that well for them, like a big rock or something.

"Oh, so there's two sides? Are there any just, well, Force-wielders who aren't Sith or Jedi?" It was pretty obvious what the conflict was about if the Sith were all the kind of people HK approved of. But what about those who didn't care what others did with the Force? Those who stood on the border of light and darkness?

"Statement: Only in what is needed to perform my duties which does not involve... that. Affirmative: Most of the time, it is." On a related note, honesty was a painful thing.

"Statement: If there are any, I have not had information on them loaded into my database. Presumably, they would mostly be a non-threat to the Sith." Apart from his master when the amnesia had been in effect, but that didn't count.

"Well, I suppose if you look like a robot, you never had to pretend to love someone," she supposed. One point for meatbag espionage, the ability to pose as a lover. But then, machines could also pose as furniture, so Yukari supposed it was about even. "You do look like a robot normally, don't you? Or are you one of those 'looks like a person but is really a machine' robots?" Like those dolls. Only more life-like. She assumed this was not the case, given HK's general dislike of meatbags, in appearance or otherwise.

"Aww, does he tease you in vaguely inappropriate ways? Or not-so-vaguely inappropriate ways?" Of course, HK probably considered any sort of flesh-on-flesh contact, platonic or erotic, to be inappropriate unless violence was involved.

"I see," she murmured. If they were such a non-threat, they could easily just not show up if the two sides were making a huge commotion. "How big is this whole Jedi against Sith thing, anyway?"

"Affirmative: Of course I look like a droid," HK snapped, disgusted at the thought. "I cannot think of any beneficial reason for appearing like a meatbag that would not be crushingly outweighed by the negatives." Not that he was assembling the line-up of those in a very orderly or logical manner, at least to those not fully acquainted with HK's thought pathways. One would more easily be able to define why a two-digit number was the answer to life, the universe, and everything than understand HK. Or at least, he might like to think so.

"Statement: You have to clarify before I will be willing to answer, as contrary to what you seem to believe, I do not enjoy personal embarrassment." Also, he wasn't sure what the nurses would do if he cut someone's throat with a scalpel, and he certainly did not want to be drugged directly before... next shift.

"Answer: Large enough so that there have been few galactic conflicts on the same scale as their periodic wars. Among the recent examples of exceptions have been the Mandalorian's attack on the rest of the galaxy just to see if they could, and HK-01's Great Droid Revolution, which was sadly ended by the Jedi. My prototype was very successful while he was online, however HK droids only became illegal likely as a result of my own actions. I have terminated over 500 meatbag targets during my three years of existence, a statistic that meatbags seem to find horrifying, rather than a record to try and outdo." He'd never really understand meatbags. It probably was due to the fact that he very rarely tried.

"Of course," she agreed patronizingly. "How silly of me."

"But I enjoy personal embarrassment," she protested. A smirk, and then she added, "On your part, anyway." It was rather hard to embarrass the youkai. "Anyway, what I mean is are they just words, or does it involve touching? And/or bodily fluids? Do you really want me to continue clarifying?"

Five hundred was certainly a lot. Yukari didn't keep track, but that was probably comparable to the number of deaths she was responsible for, and certainly more than the number she was directly responsible for. Plus she'd had far longer than three short years to amass that number. Really, she was more of a "make people disappear and wake up somewhere they don't recognize" sort of youkai.

"How violent," she said lightly. "Why can't we all just get along?"

"Agreement: Yes, and incredibly lacking in intelligence and wit as well," HK replied testily.

"Statement: I do not take your enjoyment into consideration, obviously," he replied, picking up the colored drawing utensils and beginning to create a color copy of the scene from last night of the zombies (one still living, severed foot firmly wedged in its mouth) he'd left hanging on coat hooks. It helped distract from what the meatbag was torturing him with--torturing in a bad way. "And upon further consideration I have decided to give no response to the question." Something he really should have hit upon ages ago.

"Affirmative: Yes, exceedingly violent. And as long as 'getting along' includes the periodic elimination of a few from the meatbag herd at the very least, then yes. We can."

Yukari wasn't particularly hurt by the robot's comments; she had assumed he thought those things of every meatbag he met from the start anyway.

"Now what bodily atrocity are you artistically rendering?" she asked with idle curiosity. "Another portrait of your dear Lockdown mutilating the bodies?" Oh no, just because he refused to answer didn't mean the teasing was about to stop.

"Now, that wouldn't be getting along, would it?" she murmured mildly, before adding, "Unless they wanted to die. How do you feel about mercy-killing the old and infirm?"

"Negatory: No, obviously, because he is not in the picture. This was my doing: A series of zombie meatbags impaled on coathooks, The first still animate, the second--the severed head impaled through the eye socket and the body on the hook next to it--previously animate until that was decided to be unnecessary, and the third in a medic's coat, terminated via precise and forceful application of a woodworking tool to the brain. That one was an interesting challenge. Very fast, fond of throwing things, and jumping. Like a Tach on an overdose of stimulants." He was very proud of this one. The coat hooks really had been a wonderful idea.

"Statement: Only by your definition, meatbag," he replied, not looking up from his artwork. "And that is an interesting query. While they remain un-fragmented, they are more of a drain on meatbag society as a whole." When they were fragmented, the local municipalities had to pay for the expenses of a cleanup crew. "However, having just been subjected to one of them as a 'visitor', I am more of the opinion that they should be terminated with maximum prejudice."

Though it was hard to embarrass Yukari, she did manage to look slightly queasy, or at least disgusted with HK's clinically accurate descriptions of what he had done. Yukari was not unfamiliar with carnage, but it wasn't something she'd seen in years, nor had it ever been for recreational purposes. She had to admit though, the end result was probably ridiculous enough to be more humorous than disgusting. It was just the description of the process that seemed unnecessarily gory.

"Oh, had a visitor, did you? Who was it, your master?" asked Yukari, changing the subject. The visitors were all people that the patients were close to, so Yukari couldn't imagine many other who could be considered "close" to HK. She got the feeling he wasn't much a team-player with the other Sith.

HK looked up when the meatbag didn't reply, feeling triumph when he realized that it was because he'd successfully managed to disgust. "Statement: I could go into detail on the other entertaining kills and amusing maimings that were given to the meatbags. Query: Would you like me to continue?" he said with at least a touch of smugness.

"Negative: No, it was not my master. My master is not elderly. It was a former crewmate, former Jedi and... now that I think of it, former meatbag who had been terminated. I had rather forgotten about that detail."

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

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