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damned_institute2009-09-24 11:20 am
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Entry tags:
- albedo,
- alkaid,
- allelujah,
- argilla,
- ayumu,
- chekov,
- dahlia,
- edgeworth,
- edward cullen,
- endrance,
- gumshoe,
- harley,
- haseo,
- heiji,
- hk-47,
- howl,
- indiana jones,
- junpei,
- keman,
- kibitoshin,
- klavier,
- kristoph,
- l,
- lelouch,
- lord recluse,
- lunge,
- manny,
- matt,
- meche,
- peter petrelli,
- renamon,
- rey,
- sam winchester,
- sasuke,
- scott pilgrim,
- shikamaru,
- sokka,
- soma,
- spock,
- suzaku,
- sylar,
- sync,
- tony stark,
- tsukasa,
- two-face,
- venom
Day 44: Sun Room, Second Shift
[from here]
He really had beat the rush. Suzaku found a chair as close to the corner and as far from the bulletin as he could, and turned it to face the wall before curling up in it. His nurse frowned at him again, but she was still being cooperative, and frankly he didn't care what she had to say in the slightest. He didn't care even if he got sedated. All he cared about was finally having a few moments to himself, to sort out what Euphie's love meant and what the hell Lelouch's problem was.
It felt like he had all the pieces of a puzzle and was just too stupid to figure out how they fit together. What Lelouch had said about Shirley at breakfast and the tone he'd taken with Euphie on the board, Lelouch asking how Suzaku was, Lelouch dying. . . "All we can do is move forward and look out for the ones we care about." Euphie struggling to get out her last words, pain overtaking Suzaku's consciousness while he fought pathetically to carry out Lelouch's order. . . The last couple days, when he'd felt like he was finally figuring this out, seemed so far away now.
There were a couple things that were certain, at least: he hated what Lelouch had done, he always would. But he -- he didn't hate Lelouch, and he hadn't for a while now, and that wasn't going to change. And he didn't have much time, because everyone but Suzaku was terrifyingly mortal. And Lelouch was an idiot, but he still wasn't sure about the how and why of that one yet.
[for the Saucinator]
He really had beat the rush. Suzaku found a chair as close to the corner and as far from the bulletin as he could, and turned it to face the wall before curling up in it. His nurse frowned at him again, but she was still being cooperative, and frankly he didn't care what she had to say in the slightest. He didn't care even if he got sedated. All he cared about was finally having a few moments to himself, to sort out what Euphie's love meant and what the hell Lelouch's problem was.
It felt like he had all the pieces of a puzzle and was just too stupid to figure out how they fit together. What Lelouch had said about Shirley at breakfast and the tone he'd taken with Euphie on the board, Lelouch asking how Suzaku was, Lelouch dying. . . "All we can do is move forward and look out for the ones we care about." Euphie struggling to get out her last words, pain overtaking Suzaku's consciousness while he fought pathetically to carry out Lelouch's order. . . The last couple days, when he'd felt like he was finally figuring this out, seemed so far away now.
There were a couple things that were certain, at least: he hated what Lelouch had done, he always would. But he -- he didn't hate Lelouch, and he hadn't for a while now, and that wasn't going to change. And he didn't have much time, because everyone but Suzaku was terrifyingly mortal. And Lelouch was an idiot, but he still wasn't sure about the how and why of that one yet.
[for the Saucinator]
no subject
Geez, she hadn't done something this jerky in a really long time!!
"Huh... The Assassin's Guild..." He'd told her a little bit about it on the bulletin board, but she hadn't taken it really seriously. She took a seat on the chair, then gestured to a nearby seat. "Hey, uhh... Venom, come sit. Don't, uhh, want your knees givin' out or anything, you know? Not that they would, but..."
She wondered if she should possibly add something on to that to make it a little more caring, then shook it out of her head. It just wasn't her to feel too sorry for other people. At least her voice had softened some. That should be enough.
Alkaid was still curious. "...Who's the girl?"
no subject
Spock's hair was still a little damp when he returned to the sun room, but he didn't pay it any mind. Instead, he made his way over to the bulletin board, intent on spending the rest of the shift perusing through the notes. It was then his attention was drawn toward a familiar pair located near the seating area. Perhaps it would do him well to learn more information from someone while speaking face-to-face. The fact he at least had some previous experiences with these particular individuals made that somewhat easier to accomplish.
He quietly approached them, though his gaze moved toward the cast on Alkaid's arm. It appeared as though she had acquired new injuries since the last time they'd spoken, and yet she had not been completely healed like Spock had.
Fascinating.
The next thing that caught his interest was the fact was a series of images in the form of what he believed were known as "photographs" that they were looking at. How they had come across them when they had few personal items was unknown to him, and so he ventured close enough to make his presence known, but not so much so as to come across as intrusive.
no subject
In the end he stayed where he was, staring down at the photographs in his hands and unconsciously running his thumb along the surface of the one on top. Master Zato... They weren't real. He knew they weren't real; the cheery smiles, the clothing, the blind eyes barely visible behind those horrendous glasses (and they were very unfortunate looking glasses. He was tempted to say they looked bad on the man, but...). It was all a lie.
He wasn't sure whether it hurt more or less to know that.
Alkaid kept asking questions though, despite how much he wished she didn't (he didn't give her permission to be that nosy). Who's the girl? Even with the faces carefully cut out or half-haphazardly torn away, the flashes of blonde hair and how she were always draped over Master Zato were enough hints for it to only be one person.
Millia.
Who was the girl? A traitor, he wanted to say. A murderer, an unloving, uncaring witch who deserved neither what she had in the past or the life she held onto now. She was a deceitful, lying whore and if it were up to him, it wouldn't only be these pictures that were torn to ribbons. She had yet to pay for her crimes and the thought, the mere thought that he was trapped in this hell while she still ran free...
Another presence made itself known and the Guild Head slid the photos into his journal, effectively hiding them from sight. "Good morning, Mr. Spock." It was difficult to hide the simmering rage in his tone, however. He may as well had just said "Please get Alkaid to stop talking before I punch her in the throat," what with the way that greeting sounded.
no subject
Thankfully, everything seemed a little lighter when Venom greeted Spock, and she looked at the pointy-eared man as if he was her savior. A knight in logical armor, or something. It was hard to hid her huge sigh of relief, actually.
"Oh, hi, Mr. Spock!" Alkaid waved, her almost-helpless expression hopefully letting him know that this was a good time to let his, uhh, charisma shine. "We were just looking at some photos of Venom's. I picked 'em up during a run last night."
She'd picked up other things, too, such as the injury that warranted the bulky cast on her upper left arm. And a delicious cup-o-noodles. But none of that was with her right now. What was important was making the situation a little bit more tolerable.
no subject
Spock's gaze flickered toward the journal in which Venom had tucked the photographs away, but he said nothing on the matter. Perhaps they were of a personal nature, and he did not wish for anyone else to see them. It would be better for him not to pry if that was indeed the case.
He was, however, quite curious when Alkaid mentioned finding the pictures last night. It was possible she had managed to break into the storage room where they were keeping their personal belongings. That seemed unlikely, though, mostly because it would have been far too convenient to find the items their captors had taken from them. For another, Spock had thought Venom was from a time in which photographs would be considered obsolete in favor of more advanced technology. Of course, that could have been explained by alternate universes and the like, but it was still odd.
"Where did you locate them?" he asked.
no subject
He could have tucked his hair back behind his ears to show just how unhappy he was with her, but he didn't want them to see him anymore. Instead, he went for the direct approach, as that was all that ever seemed to work. "We are not talking about me, Alkaid. That conversation is over."
Not that he had given permission to start said discussion in the first place.
Thankfully, Spock had changed the subject for them. Since it wasn't directed at him, Venom took the opportunity to finally rest in a nearby chair (a nearby chair that wasn't next to Alkaid). It wasn't until he was off his feet that he realized how much they hurt. What a horrible night...
no subject
Really, she just wanted to talk to get some stuff out of her head. Like people getting the wrong ideas on the bulletin board. Guys.
She rolled her eyes after Venom barked at her to shut up - though she wasn't facing him, so hopefully he couldn't see it. Who knew what kinda poison she'd somehow find in her food if he did see something like that. She didn't mean to be cruel to him, and she hadn't really meant to step on his buttons - it'd just happened. He didn't have to get his panties in a twist over it! Man! What was it, PMS?
So she decided to keep talking about the second floor instead. "If you ever decide to go, what you find up there might not exactly be the most useful stuff. Nothing... out of the ordinary. Just stuff that our fake selves are supposed to have. Lotsa wallets."
Then, Alkaid's expression darkened. "The monsters are much higher leveled when you get too far away from the patient halls, though."
no subject
Regardless, it appeared Venom was not in the best of moods. Perhaps seeing the photographs had upset him somehow. Spock was curious, but he deemed it inappropriate to make any related inquiries for the time being.
"When you say 'higher leveled', you are referring to their physical strength?" the half-Vulcan asked instead. "How do such creatures compare to the decaying humanoids we encountered the night before last?"
no subject
Besides, he wouldn't have even thought of that room until Alkaid went through everything and just happened to find his box. There wasn't a point to do so much to accomplish nothing. And he could have asked her if there was anything else in there, but...
In the middle of this thought, Alkaid opened her mouth and showed her ignorance yet again, reminding him why he wouldn't want to ask. Higher leveled...? He finally looked up at her instead of staring uselessly at his journal (he wanted to open it. He wanted to look at what lies they constructed about him, about Master Zato and that bitch, but knowing Alkaid...), tilting his head at her. This wasn't a game! Didn't she know that? From her condition, maybe not.
He just held his tongue for now, shaking his head at her words. Spock could handle her; Venom wasn't in the mood to.
no subject
"Well.. mostly higher strength. Those zombies went down faster than any of the other monsters I've seen here," Alkaid explained. "Anything's stronger than them. But no, we're talkin'... really strong. To top it off, my bat didn't seem to hurt it at all, but it might just be strong versus blunt weapons. There are monsters like that in my game, too. I gotta find something edged."
She knew Spock would know what she was talking about when she said 'the game,' but Venom wouldn't. Oh well - he'd probably just call her crazy anyway.
Alkaid looked over at Venom, who looked to be stewing in his seat. She was kind of sorry for what she'd said about a guy who'd ended up dead, but it was hard to let on more than she already had without looking like a huge blubbering failure. So she'd keep her mouth shut. For now, anyway.