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thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com) wrote in
damned_institute2009-09-20 11:43 am
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Entry tags:
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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]
no subject
That was when he realized he must have been hungry after all, since as Artemis was speaking he'd somehow managed to down half the bread without even thinking about it. Maybe it was a good thing he'd decided to sit there, since it kept him from thinking about other things.
"It sounded like he did die the other night, though, and then the...that IRIS took over," he pointed out, with a thoughtful frown. "So why is he back now? It didn't sound like he was feeling well this morning, either. And he had the...the nurse, Lydia...? She wasn't there yesterday, either." Keeping track of all these pieces must involve a massive headache, since he thought he was starting to get one.
no subject
The boy frowned, furrowing his eyebrows in deep thought. "You forgot one thing, Martin. You forgot that I never give up. That made me question if IRIS was really the failsafe Landel thought it was, or if it was a program with a subroutine installed that Landel didn't know about. Something installed by Alec Doyle, or someone else. Whatever it was, it wasn't doing us any favors last night."
Artemis stared deeply into his juice glass, nearly completely lost in his thought processes and theories. "He sounded injured today, yes. Which makes me wonder if someone killed him... and then he brought himself back to life. Somehow. But it took time, so IRIS was activated--subroutine unknown to Landel."
no subject
He finally shook his head a little, picking up his glass of juice to cradle it in both hands. "I can tell you know a lot more about this than I do, Fowl-san, but it still seems like we're missing a lot of information." A lot of this seemed to be based on guesses and suppositions, but it wasn't as though he was one of the smarter shinigami or anything, so he could just not know some things. "I mean, um. I don't even know why we're here, or why the two people are fighting over this."
no subject
Hanatarou was right--right now all Artemis could do was speculate and make theories. Nothing was concrete, nothing was for certain. Not until the next clue. Or the one that would break the case wide-open. Doubtful that would come anytime soon, though.
"You know, Hanatarou," Artemis said, smiling as he speared his fruit. "I'm glad I can discuss this with you. Most of the more intellectual types are more concerned with punching holes in my theories, rather than listening. You're a very good sounding board--very good at listening to people."
no subject
He finally set his now-empty glass down and shook his head. "Um, I don't have anything useful to say, b-but, er. If that helps...?" He certainly knew very little about the voices on the intercom or the deeper meanings behind them - he was just a healer, after all.
And where did all of his breakfast go, anyway? Somehow his plate was mostly empty by now...he couldn't have eaten that himself, could he?
no subject
Normally, that was Haku. But Artemis didn't want to bother Haku with his theories or thoughts. Not when Haku was recovering from severe injuries that, while they weren't his fault directly, he still felt responsible for. And it would be another few days before Haku could even stand, let alone--
Wait.
"Hanatarou?" Artemis leaned forward. "Could I ask a favor of you?"
no subject
He picked up his fork again and started poking at the remains of his breakfast, trying to decide if he was still hungry or not, but paused at the question. "Um...yes?" he replied, glancing up with a mildly startled expression. "I m-mean, er, if it's...something I can do..."
no subject
"You see, when the attack by the undead happened in Doyleton, my bodyguard and my friend was severely injured while protecting me. He was resting all of yesterday, and I suspect he'll be resting for a few days more unless he gets special attention.
"I suspect you know what I'm asking of you," he finished, folding his hands on the table. "If you had the time, I mean. If you have a previous assignment, I wouldn't want to take you away from it, but I'm limited in my movement until Haku is able to walk again."
Which was a nice, professional way to put it, but in Artemis' mind the sooner Haku had color in his cheeks again and was standing up, the sooner Artemis could breathe freely again. No doubt he'd be scolded for worrying so much, but he was scolded enough by Haku--and never harshly enough to discourage him from worrying.
no subject
"I, um, don't have any assignments for tonight yet..." And if he kept avoiding the bulletin board and the other shinigami, he hopefully wouldn't have anything to interfere with what he needed to do. "But I'd be happy to help no matter what. As much as I can, at least," he added, lest Artemis get his hopes up too far.
no subject
"Thank you, Hanatarou. This means a lot to me. Whatever you can do, I would appreciate.
"You remember which room I'm in? M47?" Artemis said, reminding Hanatarou in case he didn't remember--which Artemis wouldn't blame him for. So many assignments, so many meeting places...
"I won't be going anywhere, so you can take your time as well."
no subject
It was nice when he could do things to help people, especially when it was someone who'd been as nice to him as Artemis had. Although if "Haku" was the person he remembered, he still kind of wondered - it wasn't as though they'd assign a girl to room with a boy (he didn't think so, at least) but still...
Oh, well. It wasn't important.