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damned_institute2009-09-20 11:43 am
thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2009-09-20 11:43 am
Entry tags:
- abe sapien,
- aidou,
- alec,
- alexander conklin,
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- allelujah,
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- sam winchester,
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- sho,
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- tyki,
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- yuffie,
- yukari yakumo,
- zex,
- 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]
no subject
"Of course there's something else." The demon slammed his fist down on the table, causing some of the juice in his glass to slosh out. There was plenty else. Will knew it too, from that smug look on his face. "How did we get here, and what the hell do they want with us?" Those were the most important questions, and the ones he was having the most difficult time getting answers for.
Everyone else might be content to just go along with all of this, but Heat didn't like being in the dark. He pulled back from the table, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look less aggressive after his outburst. He succeeded in looking uncomfortable.
no subject
He shoved his mostly empty tray away, having finished eating while he wasn't paying attention, to lean forward and continue speaking, punctuating his words with expansive gestures. "They do weird-ass experiments on the patients - and most of 'em are metahumans just like you - and test our ability to survive while letting us know just how much they enjoy watching us fight. Put the pieces together. It's not hard." There was more to it than the obvious, anyone who could learn Batman's secret identity and kidnap him without leaving a trail had to be up to more than your usual underground super-soldier/arena gig. Or maybe not. Some of these assholes really couldn't think beyond the most basic plans to make a quick buck.
no subject
What he was saying was definitely cause for worry. Test subjects? Making them fight each other? How had they ended up here, after everything they'd been through? What had God done?
He didn't trust this man. He didn't trust the 'staff,' or most of the others here, for that matter. The sooner he could get a hold of Roland, the better.
no subject
"Apparently we all come from different worlds or realities or some crap like that. Not everyone is going to know the shit you think they should. Something to keep in mind." There, he'd offered up something to help the new guy without even being asked. If the guy didn't believe him that wasn't his damn problem.
And there was the intercom signalling it was time to be herded off again. Jason shoved himself to his feet, smirking at Heat and giving him a mocking wave. "It's been peachy but I have to go. Don't get eaten too soon."
He followed his nurse away, the encounter already pushed aside in favour of something more important. He hadn't seen Bruce at all. Fuck. He would find him today. He had to. The state of the head doctor and whatever that might mean for them didn't matter a damn bit compared to finding Bruce and making him pay.