damned_institute | Day 44: Arts and Crafts Room, 4th Shift

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Day 44: Arts and Crafts Room, 4th Shift

The day had been slow for L so far, slower than he required: the events of the previous night were traumatic, but they did not outweigh his need for information and a useful way in which to apply whatever he might learn.

When the nurse shepherded him from the cafeteria, through the Sun Room, and over towards the door of the Arts and Crafts Room, he experienced a small internal wince: this was the room where it had happened the night before. Unpleasant, yes, but likely to be irrelevant in terms of my own welfare, except in terms of what I can learn from it, he reminded himself.

He had the impression that he could avoid the room if he wanted to, but there were several convincing reasons to push past his reluctance: his meeting with Lunge was necessary, the opportunity to see the room in more usual circumstances might be valuable, and he did not want the staff to see that he had been affected. He wasn't sure how they were tied to the events of the previous night, but the buzz of information around the Institute suggested some kind of strong connection.

As he stepped into the room, feet feeling imprisoned in the slippers that the staff kept insisting that he wear, he avoided the area where he had collapsed. Instead, he turned to the right and proceeded as far into the room as he could, then left, then took a seat in the back corner.

If the nurses pressed him to be more creative, he would take up painting. However, he expected to express his creativity in other ways.

[For Lunge.]

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"Well, this is the place for it," Meche replied, looking around for potential hobbies. She decided to shelve the knitting for now--it wasn't much of a collaborative project--and hit instead on a nearby container of modeling clay. With a little effort, she was able to get it over without dislodging Senna too much. "What about it?" she asked. "Maybe we can become brilliant sculptors and they'll let us out to do traveling art shows." Not likely; Meche didn't know the first thing about sculpting. She pinched off a section of clay and started playing it around in her palms anyway. It always felt good to have something to keep her hands occupied.

She kept softening it as she listened to the story of Senna's day; the name caught enough of her attention to make her pause. "Not Peter Parker?" Meche asked. It was sort of a wild guess--Peter was a pretty common name, after all--but he'd be about the right age and a kind enough person to get along well with Senna.

"Whoever he was, I hope you showed him a little mercy by the end. You have to remember that not everyone has your superior skills," she added with a smile, thinking again about that race on Saturday.

Senna glanced around the room, and then watched Meche yank something out. Clay? It didn't ring any obvious bells to her, but she was good for anything at least once. "Yeah, okay," she answered, smiling. "What's our subject, teacher-lady?"

The question about Peter made her shrug. Last nights weren't really... something Senna held on to. "Dunno. Kid my age, coupla inches taller. Brown hair like this," she explained, holding a few fingers by her temple to denote the length. "Funny guy." That Senna had said 'her age' without blinking made a note within her. She was adapting, it seemed. Learning to live an actual life. Even if it was--

She laughed. "Nope! He earned it. He gave up right from the beginning. There's no honor in that unless you fight to the end." She grinned, pleased. "But it's okay. It was more... To take his mind off things. I think it worked."

Meche cast around for something that would amuse Senna. "Well, I'm going to sculpt you," she announced after a moment. "It's only right that our fearless leader has a noble statue, isn't it? We can put it at the front of the exhibit hall." Making up a story like this came naturally to her, and as silly as it was, it usually did as much for her spirits as for those of anyone who listened to it. She started rolling the clay into an elongated ball to make a head.

"That sounds like the Peter I know," she said. "Actually, you know, it's the strangest thing. When I first met him a week or so ago, he was a few years older. Then he disappeared for a few days and came back like this, without any memory of being here before." That still troubled her a little, although if she was honest it was probably one of the less odd things she'd seen in the last week. "Well, I'm glad you were able to help him out. He's a nice guy," she added. Now that she thought of it, she hadn't really talked to this Peter since that first time, aside from once or twice on the bulletin board. Maybe she should check in.

Hearing about Peter jogged her memory: there was someone else Meche had been wondering about. "Oh, Senna, I've been meaning to ask: who's this 'Hitsugaya' who's been doing the posting for the Arts and Crafts club? I thought the leader was someone called 'Hinamori.'"

The girl's eyebrows rose. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out. Sculpt me? No way." The leader stuff itched at her, but she held to the age old tradition of if you didn't call attention to it, it wasn't there. She copied Meche, a little more desperately, glancing around the room. "There's gotta be something cooler than me here. How about...."

She perked up at Meche's continuance. "Really? Cool. We know the same people all over, huh?" The details she gave were strange, but Senna had died after... not really existing to come here... and here? Was a little weird. She smiled at Meche, accepting it without a thought. "I tried to at least. Don't know if it stuck. He seems pretty secretive." Her eyes lit up. "Hey, hey. Let's make him instead, 'kay? Then we both know him and can detail it, right?" Her grin took an a humorous note, a feigned desperation meant to make people laugh. She didn't know how good she was at that any more. The past few days were--

Exactly. Senna's face fell; the girl instantly looked more tired. "Ah. You missed a lot of the turnabouts A&C's done. Hitsugaya...." She brought a hand to her face, rubbed some color into it, then drew it through her hair. She glanced up at Meche, smiling weakly. The girl couldn't lie, and neither could her expression. It was obvious there was more there, something from back 'home', maybe. But now wasn't the time. This was A&C stuff. Not Senna getting a death sentence stuff. "He was in charge. For weeks, I guess. Long before I got here. Not surprising, I guess. And he... Did it well. But, um. Like a week ago. He. Died. Momo... Hinamori Momo and I found him. It wasn't...." She trailed off, eyes rolling downward. Wasn't good didn't even touch on the broken and ragged body that had been lying in Momo's arms, organs bare and torn like they had been--eaten. And then....

The food she had so willingly stuffed herself with pulsed in her stomach, shifting violently. A hand went to it, pressed down, as she tried to continue. "Momo took over. But she couldn't stay the leader. Matsumoto was next, with Gin, I think, but both of them... disappeared." She looked up at Meche. "And that was a day or so ago, after the trip, when I posted for the A&C instead. Me and Soma, and this sweet guy Hanatarou, were trying to figure something out, but then." Emotions had taken over her face in the explanation and somewhere in it all, she looked (lost) confused. Senna looked at her hands for a minute, then looked at Meche like the woman held her answers; not noticing that tears were shining in her eyes. "He came back. He came back and he doesn't know us. Not Hana, or Momo. Or me. He doesn't know us. He's different now. He doesn't know Momo...! And they..." Were something special. "And he's so different," she repeated forlornly. The tears quietly traced her cheeks. "And I don't know what to do."

Meche was happy enough to switch gears--she was just starting, anyway. "Well, it's a pretty small world in here. I'll try to make him, but you'll have to help me out if I miss some of the details. Maybe we can get him to sit for his portrait sometime."

She'd need it, with just that one up-close look. Meche reached over to pull the rest of the clay closer, both so she could get enough to make a neck and shoulders and so Senna could take some too. Then the tone of Senna's response brought her up short. She set the clay down and listened quietly.

It had only been a few days since Meche had joined Arts and Crafts, so she hadn't paid much attention even to the 'turnabouts' she'd been there for. Really, who was in charge hadn't seemed too important. Since they were on the same side and told her what she needed to do to help the cause, she didn't think much about the leadership except as the distant top of what was probably a very big hierarchy, with her at the bottom. But of course they had their own problems and insecurities, of course they were in just as much danger as anyone else--and they might all be Senna's age, for all Meche knew. And she hadn't realized how close Senna was to them.

"Oh, Senna," she said finally, reaching out to put her arms around the crying girl. "I'm so sorry." Sorry that it had all happened, sorry for bringing it up. Something clicked: Peter and this Hitsugaya, in the same breath. They'd both disappeared and came back different, without remembering any of the people they used to know here. What if it could happen to anyone, with no warning? Meche felt guilty for it, but she said a silent prayer of thanks that Manny hadn't forgotten.

That Hitsugaya had also come back from the dead was a point she filed away, to think about later. Right now Senna was more important.

"There aren't any good answers." She found herself speaking quietly, groping for something hopeful to say. "But he's back, and he's all right, at least? Maybe things will come back to him, or else they can happen again. I know it's tough, but I'm sure he can learn to care for his old friends again." For all the good that did when they were dead or disappeared. This place could make it almost impossible to hold onto optimism sometimes. Five good minutes and down came the hammer again.

This was logic and it usually worked. But Meche didn't know. She couldn't know just how different Hitsugaya was. The man she would affectionately refer to as Leader-sama was no longer... here. And the thought of trying again, after seeing... Of the possibility not being there... It was too much for a girl that needed some deeper stability in her life. It was double now. Two pasts forgot. He didn't know her, and he didn't remember her. And she wondered, maybe, if it was because--she shouldn't be remembered. If maybe....

She had accepted Meche's arms around her far too naturally, and Senna found her head on Meche's shoulder, taking comfort in this like she couldn't normally. She kept it, this feeling, this reaction, for a moment, held on to it to pull on later, when she needed, and then sighed, seemingly exasperated. The girl detached slowly, remaining close, and pulled a hand through her hair. "Ah... Yeah. Sorry." She offered a smile to Meche, an apology in itself. "I guess I made myself look like a fool there."

"Oh no, not at all," Meche rushed to say. At least there she could be pretty sure that her instinctive answer was really the right one. "You keep it together so much. That night in town, you kept going when I just...cracked, you know?" Her voice dropped--it wasn't something she was very happy to remember. "But you're allowed to be upset too. It's better to let it out sometimes than just to keep it bottled up day after day."

She reached for her ball of clay again and held it out to Senna. Maybe having something to look at and focus a little energy on would make talking easier. "I'll listen if you want to talk," Meche offered--still softly, so nobody else in the room would be likely to hear them. "Or if you'd rather, we can change the subject." They had plenty to talk about, at any rate.

[>_< so sorry for lateness!]

She kept it together. Senna didn't know if she agreed. Certain times, certain things... She couldn't. She just couldn't do this all the time. Her eyes shadowed, dropped for a moment. She wasn't sure if she was fooling herself. When she looked up, she had tried for a smile. "Nah, I didn't think so. You handled what was going on. You ran on your own two feet, and that matters. You were brave."

Didn't someone say that, there was a bravery in fear? Senna couldn't remember, and if she did, she didn't know if that memory was hers. Again, this stuff was rising up, and she couldn't do anything about it. Her hand reached out automatically, cupping the ball and looking at it. How would you make a person out of this? Maybe this wasn't the thing for Senna. She poked it with her other hand, impressing a fingerprint. "Thanks," she said softly. "But I think I'm--" Done. With this at least. For now. "--Okay. I will be anyway." Senna nudged Meche with her elbow, gesturing helplessly at the clay in her hands. Her face wore a pitiful how in her eyes and a smile. The deeper emotions were almost secreted away. Almost. "What'd you want to talk about?"

Meche wasn't sure she wanted to talk about her own bravery or lack thereof, so instead she responded to Senna's obvious confusion about the clay.

"First you have to make the basic shape," she explained as she pulled another section of clay off the block for herself. Boy, Meche might be able to fake a sculpting lesson for a few minutes, but she wasn't an art teacher. She hoped this would make sense to Senna. "So I'm going to roll my ball like yours to make a head, and then I'll add a neck and shoulders. That way it'll be able to sit flat on a table." Meche demonstrated, pinching the clay into the rough shape of a bust to show what she meant.

Aside from literal arts and crafts, what else did she want to talk about? Suddenly Meche was at a loss. What to do about Alita and Soma was at the top of the list, but she didn't want to get into anything else upsetting right now. And it felt wrong to talk about Manny when Senna was so sad. Then again, she'd seemed a little intrigued on the board. Maybe anything that touched on the cheerful was better than the alternative.

"Senna, would it be all right with you if I gave that sword to my boyfriend?" she asked. "Not that he'll know how to use it right away, but I think he'd better learn. It's really a little too heavy for me anyway."

She watched, glad for the distraction. She frowned at her ball in comparison to Meche's, then tried to duplicate the process. The result was... sloppy; a child's work. The perfect sphere ruined with dents, Senna tried to set it down on the table. It stayed... at an angle. She made a face, glancing up at Meche hopefully for more tips.

The other subject was a lot easier. She perked up, eyes watchful. "Yeah, that's cool. 'slong as you think he can handle it. It'll need sharpening, of course, but you should make sure he has the hang of it first." The watching look slid smoothly into something like teasing. Senna quietly grinned. "Boyfriend, huh? So you're bringing him by, right? I gotta meet him; make sure he's okay." Not just anyone got to go out with Meche.

"That's a good start," Meche assured her. Peter was sort of leaning toward one side, but...well, maybe he'd just had a long day. "If you want to even it out, you can use your fingers gently to smear the clay a little and smooth the surface over." She pressed a shallow dent into her own statue's head (sorry, Peter) and rubbed her thumb over the area to fix it again. "And it should be able to sit straighter if you add a little more clay to the neck, to give the head some support," she added, although actually the lopsided position did look a little cute. Maybe instead of being tired, Peter was tilting his head inquisitively.

"Well, we'll see how things go," she explained, shaping her statue's chin while she talked. "I just wanted to make sure it was okay with you first. He usually carries a scythe, but I think he should have something big, at least." Now she just needed to convince him of that.

She wondered if the Arts and Crafts missions for tonight were already posted in the other room--she needed to check on her way to dinner. "I'm not sure if he's coming on assignment with me tonight, but if you and I aren't together, we'll definitely meet you first thing." Meche looked up, caught Senna's teasing expression, and found herself grinning involuntarily. "And just what would make a boyfriend 'okay,' huh?"

Again, she tried to copy Meche's effects. She seemed to get it to stand up a little straighter, but most of the dents seemed to want to stick. Or she made them worse. She made another face at the clay. Maybe she should focus on something else for now. "How do you create the features?"

She nodded to Meche's explanation. A scythe, huh. There was something familiar in that. "You're probably together. No reason why friends should be split up, right?" The girl grinned, then, switching over to playful easily. "Hmm.~ I'm not quite sure. He's gotta treat you right for one. I'm not letting just anybody call my best friend their girlfriend."

They could skip around lessons if Senna wanted to, Meche decided. The good thing about clay was that it was easy to go back and redo things once you figured out the basic techniques. "Good job; now he's sitting up better," she said as she tried to decide how they should do the face. There were some pencils rubber-banded together for would-be artists at the next table; Meche went to pick two of them up and gave one to Senna. The lead might make a few marks on the clay, but this was just for fun anyway.

"We can use these to help make the face. Just press it in--not too hard--" She carved a simple face on her statue to show what she meant, just a curved line for the mouth and dots for the eyes and nose. "Or if you want it to look a little more realistic, you can pinch some more clay off the block and add a nose that way."

Meche was surprised to find herself blushing a little, maybe because she wasn't actually sure if Manny did call her his girlfriend. They hadn't exactly spend a lot of time in the last year defining their relationship; it was all just sort of understood. "Well, he rescued me from a deserted factory island at the edge of the world once. I'd say that's pretty good," she cracked.

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Day 44: Arts and Crafts Room, 4th Shift

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