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thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com) wrote in
damned_institute2009-09-20 11:43 am
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Entry tags:
- abe sapien,
- aidou,
- alec,
- alexander conklin,
- alfred,
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- allelujah,
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- artemis,
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- zoro
Day 44: breakfast
Yuffie had died.
No, really. Seriously. She had actually died. Bleeding all over the place, making a horrid, sticky mess and scaring the hell out of Suzaku; she remembered it clearly. Kind of. Sort of. Through the blood loss, the pain, and the visions. Through Aerith's voice whispering in her ear, Cloud's stricken eyes, and her own panic. As bad nights went, it had been Bad, capital B and all the trimmings, and oh, god. She sat, trembling on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and hands pressed hard over her racing heart. The by-play between Landel—Landel!—and Lydia barely even sunk in. There was nothing in the whole world, any world, that could prepare you for something like…
Had it all been some kind of hallucination?
Had she imagined the whole thing?
No… She didn't think so. Nightmarish or not, Yuffie knew reality. But if it had been real, how was she alive now? That kind of pain wasn't something you could just cook up, was it? She thought about it all the way to the cafeteria, drifting behind her nurse without focus or intent. Maybe if she tried to stay clinical, tried to step back… But she'd never been good at that when things got personal. And every time she closed her eyes or blinked, she swore that the scenes played back to her, like an overused commercial on a crappy channel on a crappy TV, in a run-down dump of an inn that smelled like mothballs and yesterday's breakfast.
The scent of blood and damp, rotted wood clogged her nose. Disgusted, Yuffie shoved her bowl of cereal—handed to her by a clucking Plucky—off to the side so that she could melt into her chair, palm heels scrubbing against her eyes. Too much. This was… Too much. She couldn't even paste a plastic smile on her face to make herself feel better. Her usual shield, the white noise of inane babble that could filter out almost any crisis, was in tatters all around her. Five minutes, she gave herself.
Five minutes (not) to think, five minutes to get her act together, because there was no way she could let herself shatter here. No way…
[Closed to Sheena]
No, really. Seriously. She had actually died. Bleeding all over the place, making a horrid, sticky mess and scaring the hell out of Suzaku; she remembered it clearly. Kind of. Sort of. Through the blood loss, the pain, and the visions. Through Aerith's voice whispering in her ear, Cloud's stricken eyes, and her own panic. As bad nights went, it had been Bad, capital B and all the trimmings, and oh, god. She sat, trembling on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and hands pressed hard over her racing heart. The by-play between Landel—Landel!—and Lydia barely even sunk in. There was nothing in the whole world, any world, that could prepare you for something like…
Had it all been some kind of hallucination?
Had she imagined the whole thing?
No… She didn't think so. Nightmarish or not, Yuffie knew reality. But if it had been real, how was she alive now? That kind of pain wasn't something you could just cook up, was it? She thought about it all the way to the cafeteria, drifting behind her nurse without focus or intent. Maybe if she tried to stay clinical, tried to step back… But she'd never been good at that when things got personal. And every time she closed her eyes or blinked, she swore that the scenes played back to her, like an overused commercial on a crappy channel on a crappy TV, in a run-down dump of an inn that smelled like mothballs and yesterday's breakfast.
The scent of blood and damp, rotted wood clogged her nose. Disgusted, Yuffie shoved her bowl of cereal—handed to her by a clucking Plucky—off to the side so that she could melt into her chair, palm heels scrubbing against her eyes. Too much. This was… Too much. She couldn't even paste a plastic smile on her face to make herself feel better. Her usual shield, the white noise of inane babble that could filter out almost any crisis, was in tatters all around her. Five minutes, she gave herself.
Five minutes (not) to think, five minutes to get her act together, because there was no way she could let herself shatter here. No way…
[Closed to Sheena]
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HK wasn't there when he woke up this morning, probably already gone to breakfast. Oh, and apparently Landel was back. Wasn't that just peachy?
Lockdown let himself be led away to get breakfast and gathered some food. He tried to think about his time with HK last night, instead of what had happened to that girl.
He found himself an empty table, and, as usual, started his meal by nibbling on a piece of fruit.
[For Beatrix]
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And yet, she was alive. And still pissed off. What better way to calm her rage than to mess with the snake-bitch. The Bride pinned the black card she'd taken from Ophelia's sword the previous night onto the board before heading to the cafeteria to get something to eat. While in line, she spotted the man from Doyleton, the one she'd helped steal lotion. The tattoos, the knowledge of the lotion and his voice, the few visible marks...
Lockdown. How had she not made the connection before?
She fixed the Cybertronian with her cold eyes before sitting down across from him. "Did you enjoy your night?"
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She knew HK, so did she know what had gone on between them last night? The bounty hunter swallowed his fruit and gave her an equally cold look, "For your information, I did. What's it to you?"
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"The next time you decide to fuck HK-47, I would appreciate it if you make sure to be finished with him by the time the doors open for the night," she stated. "I do not take kindly to my plans being disrupted by such matters."
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"Oh, don't blow a fuse," Lockdown replied. "I didn't break him," Too badly. Wasn't his fault HK had passed out almost right after it happened, and again when they'd been woken up by the explosion.
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She quietly chewed her food. "Do whatever you want to him; just make sure he is functional and at the meeting point afterward." It was a simple request given the two were roommates and had plenty of time beforehand. If the Cybertronian was incapable of following such guideline, the Bride would simply castrate him.
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She was silent for a long moment before speaking again. "I am curious, Lockdown... Why do you even have an interest in human copulation? It doesn't seem like something an inorganic life form would be concerned with."
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He shrugged at her question. "Actually, I think it's kinda gross for the most part," After the act had first been explained to him, the bounty hunter had practically felt like emptying his stomach. Cybertronian lovemaking wasn't so sticky and didn't involve putting flesh into flesh. "I've just had some interfacin' tension in me since this bot I liked rejected me. It was either learn to like sex or else never get rid of the tension. Lucky enough, HK just happens to be my type." Cute, tough, and badaft. Just like Prowl.
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She then shook her head. "Forget I asked that."
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"Gladly," He doubted he even wanted to know what she was talking about.
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"I spoke to Depth Charge the other day about the Decepticons," she began. "Do you identify yourself as one, or do you just work for them?"
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"Don't wear the brand, but I sometimes consider myself one by default. Got no loyalty to Megatron or any Decepticons. I just work for them when they got the payment."
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This whole Decepticon/Autobot thing better not be like Republicans and Democrats.
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Beatrix was of the opinion that anyone that needed to hire a mercenary would be better off choosing an independent than an affiliated. Less ties that way.
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Okay, so he wasn't that well-known on Cybertron. The only people who really knew about him were the top bots in the Elite Guard, some of Megatron's personal squadron, and a few back alley bots. Everyone else usually found Lockdown by reccommendation and most of the time the bounty hunter just scanned the broadcast waves for potential jobs. Most bots sent out messages that they had a bounty one someone's head in the hopes that anyone would take the job.
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"I take it the Elite Guard are whomever leads the Autobots' personal unit? Interesting... I've not heard anything about their leader."
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"Who leads the Autobots these days?"
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"Same bot as it's been for the past few million stellar-cycles, Ultra Magnus."
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Her lip quirked up. "So, in a fair fight, who would win - Ultra Magnus or Megatron?"
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