damned_institute | Day 45: Breakfast

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Day 45: Breakfast

Mori woke with a start. He lay on the bed for a moment, staring up at the ceiling and sighed quietly. Another day, another round of shifts and people and-- Wait a minute. Breathing in carefully, Mori's brow knit together as he realized that his ribs were no longer broken. After testing his collarbone, he found that it, too, was healing faster than it should have. Not that he was complaining, but there was something odd about broken bones setting so quickly. Pushing himself up out of bed, the teen shook his head, knowing that he'd have another day or two of the sling and then he'd be free from it.

But more important than that was finding out how Mitsukuni was doing. The last thing he remembered was the bathroom and gathering metal. Since they were together at the end of the night, Mori was certain that Mitsukuni would be fine, but...well, he still liked to confirm such things with his own eyes. With the twins gone and Tamaki still missing, Mori didn't want to take any chances anymore. Especially not with the strange announcements this morning.

As usual, his nurse came to collect him and helped him into his sling. Then he followed her quietly into the cafeteria, taking notice of the unusually empty bulletin board. They really were cracking down on it already. Weird. Even weirder? For once, he was the first into the room. Picking up a tray, he pointed out what he wanted, making sure to take double of the pancakes (asking to keep them away from the sausages for now), double of the strawberry jam and biscuits, and an extra helping of fruit. To top it off? Milk. It'd help his bones mend. Hopefully.

Going to a nearby seat, Mori took a look around the empty room and shivered. Kind of eerie in here without anyone else but the nurses. Someone was certain to come sooner or later though, right? He hoped so at least.

[for Chihaya]

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Momo gave a bit of a chuckle. "She and I are from very different places. And I don't have her address..." So to speak. "She told me she was from Belka, but I've never heard of such a place. Maybe it's a small country in Eastern Europe. It's been a while since I've traveled that area." In reality, Momo was pretty sure Signum had told her Belka was no more, but she didn't want to tell Rick she was shinigami. This was a nice, casual conversation, despite the weirdness.

She looked up and gave Rick a warm smile when he complimented her sketch. "Thank you," she replied. "Drawing is very calming for me. Your facial features are very fluid to draw. Have you ever been featured in a publication before?"

Yeah, Eastern Europe was kinda more than just a hop and a skip.

Rick's lips quirked as he was told his face was "fluid" - he wasn't sure in artist jargon if that was a good thing, but it seemed like it was (he guessed), and he had to think about what kinda publication she meant. His first thought was sure, he'd probably ended up with a mugshot after trying to kill that djinn, nevermind some of the DUIs, but then he realized she meant seriously. Like honest job, this-is-my-career seriously with a paycheck and everything.

"What, like Playgirl or something?" Rick's grin just got bigger, amused. "Nah. Dude, I'm a mechanic, not a model. I don't got time to sit around doing that sorta thing."

Although...it didn't sound that bad of a job. Do what, stand around and pose while a bunch of chicks drew you and probably maybe got off on it? There were worst ways to waste an afternoon and he decided as soon as he got outta this joint, he could throw the idea Carmen's way, see what she thought about it. Although honestly, first thing Rick was gonna do when he got out was take Matty out for a beer, then shut himself in a room with Carmen and screw himself silly 'cause that morning woodie wasn't helping at all right now and just reminded him all over that a red-blooded guy like himself could get horny, crazy or no crazy.

Edited 2009-11-05 07:52 (UTC)

Momo quirked her head a little. "I'm not familiar with Playgirl," she replied. It sounded like a magazine to her, probably American.

It was a bit of a shame Rick wasn't and didn't seem to have any aspirations of pursuing such a career. The Seireitei Women's Association certainly would find him to be of interest. She could just imagine Nanao with a little poster of Rick hidden inside one of her books.

The thought caused her to giggle. She quickly brought her hand to her mouth, careful not to poke herself with the pencil, and her face flushed a bit in embarrassment.

"What kind of things do you fix, Rick-san?" she finally asked once she was sure another giggle wasn't going to escape her.

Rick by now had polished off his sausages and while his nurse had piled his plate high – hey, and he heard some patients say this place was impersonal (he called bullshit) – he was probably gonna have to go for seconds. Now he didn’t say this often, but the food here? Orgasmic. You didn’t always make the greatest money working in a garage with your head buried in a car’s innards, so he took good food when and where he could. He took a moment to make sure his pancakes were positively drowning in his maple syrup before he cut off a big piece and chewed, remembering to swallow before he started treating Momo to a full food-frontal. Kinda surprising she didn’t know about Playgirl; he’d always figured chicks were sorta like guys in that Right-Hand Rob was kinda equal opportunity there.

He raised his eye-brow at the “-san”. Didn’t sound like she was from Lawrence. Or Kansas, for that matter. But hey, at least she had a sense of humor, unlike his brother, if that giggle was anything to go by.

“Just cars,” he said. Besides a great lay, he really did miss work; his buddies in the garage, the smell of oil and grease, getting all hands on with a car’s intimates and coaxing them back into working condition. Matt had always acted like it was some job that was below him, but Rick totally didn’t think there was anything wrong with having an honest job; rather do that than dick people over in some court and ambulance chase like it was any better. “I prefer working on old junkers and muscle cars, but I can fix ‘bout anything. Used to have a real sweet ride until I got shipped over here.”

Above all, he really, really missed the Impala. He just hoped Carmen or Mom remembered to check the air pressure in the tires.

“You seriously never heard of Playgirl?” Rick couldn’t resist asking, jumping subjects easily.

Edited 2009-11-05 17:32 (UTC)

Cars had always seemed so complicated to Momo the few times she'd had to deal with them over the years, preferring to use the hell butterflies for long distance transportation. Given that, she was suitably impressed and it showed. She assumed 'junkers' was a reference to old cars that had seen better days and were waiting to be scrapped. The ability to take something like that and turn it anew... It was an expression of creativity and dedication she could appreciate.

She then shook her head, her eyes back on the sketch as she added some shading to Rick's napkin portrait, giving some real definition to his eyes, almost making them come alive. "I'm afraid not," she replied. "It sounds like it's an American magazine to me." She glanced up briefly. "I'm Japanese and haven't had much exposure to common American publications. What is Playgirl?"

Oh, cool, an exchange student. Except exchange students probably didn’t end up in a crazy house – excuse him, facility for mental rehabilitation or whatever it’d said on the brochure they’d slipped him while he was cooped up trying not to die in the hospital – but Rick wouldn’t have been able to guess she wasn’t homegrown if she hadn’t told him to his face. Her English was pretty good, and he suspected probably better than his when she’d probably bothered studying and he’d just fallen asleep in a lot of his classes. Still, he was happy to show her some of the awesome stuff you could pick up stateside: there was nothing more American than Playboy.

Well, Playgirl, since she asked. But yeah.

Rick took a moment to savor the pancakes. After this, there was no way he was gonna think I-Hop was the greatest joint ever, and if there was anything bad that was gonna come outta Landels, it was getting spoiled rotten with kickass food every day.

“It’s like Playboy for chicks,” Rick said, and then realized Momo probably didn’t know what Playboy was either. “It’s a skin mag, basically, but there’s stories and articles in there too.” And Matt acted like he just picked them up for the pictures. “I think Playgirl’s the same thing, just with…y’know, guy junk instead of girl junk.”

It wasn’t like he’d picked one up himself to take a look-see. If Carmen had them lying around or anything else, she was a lot better about squirreling it away than he was – he tended to leave them wherever, from the trunk of his car to stuffed between the cushions of the couch – and then it’d be like early Christmas when he went digging for change or the remote and came up with a Busty Asian Beauties November mag with Samantha on the cover.

No, Momo was not aware what Playboy was, so she was grateful when Rick continued his explanation. She listened, nodding a little, and then it clicked what he meant by 'skin mag'. Her eyes widened a fraction and a flush rose to her face. Not because of the actual topic, she wasn't a virgin after all, but because she'd once drawn what would have been considered something like a skin mag for the Seireitei Women's Association. It had been a request given she was the best artist among the shinigami, having illustrated the newsletter for as long as she'd been a vice captain, and had a healthy imagination given out of all those featured in it, she'd only seen Hisagi and Renji naked. The former had been an accident. Really, it had, no matter what the ladies claimed.

"Ah." Momo gave a bit of a cough. "I'm... familiar with those types of publications. Thank you for clarifying."

She put the finishing touches on the napkin portrait, hoping her blush had died down, and then handed it over to Rick. "Here. You can have this. It's not my best work, given the medium, but I no longer have my journal." Hopefully, the nurse would be able to acquire her a new one.

Rick would’ve slapped her on the arm if he was pretty sure it couldn’t be taken as assault by the nurses, especially when he was on thin ice already. “Thatta girl,” he grinned.

He was a little surprised when she finished her drawing on the napkin and handed it to him. Rick took it, holding it up. Now he was no artist, so if there was mistakes, there was no way he’d see them – it looked really damn good to him, and more like it belonged on a canvas and not on some random napkin. Rick looked up from it, smiling. “That’s really cool, Momo. Thanks!”

Honestly, if she could do something this kickass on a napkin, he bet she could totally rock the house with a canvas and paint. Real paint, not the kiddie stuff they had here. And drawing like this was a lot more practical and therapeutic in his opinion than fiddling with the pipe-cleaners in the Arts and Crafts room (sure, he’d loved first grade when he was kid, but somehow it was less awesome the second time around when you were had a few more years on you). Still, a shame she was stuck here. He imagined she’d probably be a lot happier out of Landels and drawing. Rick carefully set the napkin to the side, not wanting to fold it even if she didn’t seem to think it wasn’t her best work. Maybe he’d show it to his brother. There wasn’t really a lot of common ground between them, something he really wanted to fix – his delusions might’ve been insane, over-the-top, but he had to admit he missed hanging out with Matt like they were really family and it wasn’t just awkward conversation when the holidays rolled around. Showing him Momo’s awesome drawing wasn’t gonna start any fights, no way.

“Do you draw for a living?” Rick asked, taking the opportunity to swirl a piece of pancake in his syrup pond. “You’re good, y’know.”

Edited 2009-11-06 20:02 (UTC)

The color on Momo's cheeks flared just a bit when Rick congratulated her on her apparent knowledge of 'skin mags'. She wasn't sure how to interpret it. Was he just glad she wasn't like some women that denied their sexuality (not that Momo did anything with hers - a hundred and some years old and she could still count on two fingers how many men she'd slept with) or did he think she actually owned some of those publications? Maybe she really didn't want to know. Since Hitsugaya died - her Hitsugaya - she'd lost interest in anything romantic. She just couldn't bring herself to think of a man like that at the moment.

"You're welcome," Momo replied with a sweet smile when Rick thanked her for the drawing. If she managed to acquire a new journal, she'd redraw him; the lines of his face were very strong.

A light chuckle came in response to the man's question. "Oh, no - it's just a hobby of mine," Momo explained. "I illustrate the Seireitei Newsletter back home, but it's for my own enjoyment. But thank you for the compliment. I wish they'd give us better supplies during Arts & Crafts, but I make due with the large white board and the colored markers."

The broken pencil disappeared into Momo's pocket. "Do you have any hobbies?"

Rick had no idea what that was and he wasn't even gonna try to say that outloud - he knew when he wasn't gonna be able to say some weird word he'd never heard before and that was one of them. Sounded like it was a pretty important thing, and so long as it was fun for her and not work like some boring, soul-killing 9-5, then more power to her.

"Yeah, I've been souping up my car," Rick said. Sure, his baby was practically forty years old, but aside from crap gas mileage, she was doing alright. Maybe it wasn't as glamorous as painting and drawing and other artsy stuff, but he liked it and as far as he was concerned there was nothing more relaxing than popping the Impala's hood with a cold six pack in the little mini-cooler Carmen got him and just blowing an afternoon on that, even if it was just tinkering around or checking on things. He thought about it some more as he polished off the rest of his plate. Yeah, he was gonna have to go for seconds. "I like to channel surf too, but it's not like I sit on the couch all the time and just religiously follow these shows."

He pushed his plate to the side. "I'm gonna go for seconds, you want me to get you anything since I'm heading up there?"

Edited 2009-11-07 15:57 (UTC)

It was plain as day on Momo's face that she didn't know what 'souping up ' meant. Her brows drew down a bit in confusion as she tried to figure it out. It was times like this that her disconnection to humanity made itself known. She was far behind in keeping up with human lingo and culture these days. Granted, she was a vice captain, so she didn't often go to the living world anymore unless there was a very large crisis that required then strength of one of her rank. From time to time, she missed the simple days of being an unseated member of the Fifth with her patrols, but that never lasted long. She was proud to be a vice captain, having worked so hard for it even if her reasons had been incorrect. At least she knew that now and could focus on things for the right reasons.

None of them had anything to do with Aizen deep down. On the surface, maybe, but not in Momo's heart. Not anymore.

"Television is an interesting thing," Momo replied. She wasn't sure which was more interesting - Japanese or American. The Japanese come up with some of the more bizarre concepts, but Americans focus on rather inane things. None of it seemed particularly clever to her, but she really hadn't spent much time exploring TV. "I prefer to read, personally, so I couldn't even name you a show if I tried. Sometimes I'll catch a newsprogram, but not often." Which was an understatement.

When Rick offered to get her anything from the counter, she gave a small nod. "Another glass of orange juice, please."

When Rick came back, he returned with a new fresh plate piled high with a mound of scrambled eggs, slathered in hot sauce (the weak stuff, apparently, since the strong stuff was apparently "too much" for his little fragile patient stomach, supposedly) and a healthy helping of hash browns. He'd also taken the liberty of filling the glass of orange juice for Momo almost to the brim, and set it down carefully before her before he sat down. God, this looked amazing.

Rick dug right into the scrambled eggs, as if there hadn't been a break in the conversation. "A lot of it's crap, but sometimes you'll catch something that'll eat up an hour. And the news is just worthless, it's always like they're just pushing their agena or something." He decided to mix it up and bit off a fork full of eggs and hash browns, before suddenly saying "Y'know what you should totally watch? A monster truck rally. It's totally awesome and way better TV than daytime soaps or sitcoms from the 90's."

"Thanks you," Momo said when Rick brought her a fresh and very full glass of orange juice. She was amazed at how much the man was eating, as if he had a bottomless pit for a stomach, and was glad he hadn't commented on her own meager meal that she hadn't even finished. The juice was appreciated and she was quite careful when she took that first drink lest she spill it all across the table. That was an embarrassment she could do without.

As unusual as the topic of conversation was, Momo enjoyed talking to Rick. It was nice to not have to spend every moment thinking and debating on how they were all going to get out of the institute or how they were going to destroy it. She also felt she was getting some time to brush up on her human culture. And then Rick mentioned something Momo couldn't even begin to grasp. Monster trucks?

"... come again?"

Rick couldn’t believe it. Now he didn’t know what they had in Japan – hell, honestly, he hadn’t even traveled much outside of that one time trying to help move Matt to California, and that had been awkward like you wouldn’t believe – but come on. They had to have something as cool when they were churning out movies like Godzilla Stomps Tokyo Again. It wasn’t like they didn’t get that sometimes random things getting crushed and blown-up was pretty kickass when they made movies like that. Rick coughed a little on his scrambled eggs and hurriedly drank from his glass of milk before clearing his throat, raising an eyebrow at Momo.

“Y’know, monster trucks? Awesomely big cars that people drive around crushing cars and buses? Crappy beer? It’s great,” he said, shrugging with a shameless grin. Yeah, it wasn’t exactly highbrow like Matt going to plays or whatever it was college geeks like him did, but Rick liked it anyway. As much as he would’ve liked to pull some of the cars apart to see how they looked on the inside, he had to admit there was something just satisfying about watching a rally and those trucks going on a friggen rampage. Got the adrenaline pumping and all that, and it wasn’t boring like NASCAR, with a lot of driving in circles and not much else. Now put him behind the wheel of one of those babies and maybe he’d sing a different tune, but as a bystander, it was so goddamn boring.

He only found it worth watching when he was drunk….which was weird ‘cause when he got smashed, he wasn’t really in the mood to watch a lot of shit buzzing the screen in front of him. It was either that or “Dr. Sexy M.D.” and Rick actually had no idea how many episodes he’d actually seen of that when he was just a beer or two from puking in the toilet. It was the one show he couldn’t watch with Carmen though, ‘cause watching with her, she’d start friggen nitpicking the show apart on him.

Although it helped when she knew faster than he did that he needed to get to the bathroom right now, pronto. Unlike Matt, Carmen was totally willing to hold him over the toilet.

Rick realized all over again how lucky he was to have the most badass girlfriend in the world.

Edited 2009-11-08 15:19 (UTC)

Now that it was explained a little more, Momo could intellectually grasp the basic idea of 'monster trucks' but she didn't really find the appeal. She might have been a commoner, but she came from the First District, so she may as well have been nobility without actually being it to most of Rukongai. Perhaps things like monster trucks were known to those in the outer districts.

"I'm sorry, but I've never heard of them until now. They sound... interesting. A very different form of entertainment than I am used to," Momo replied. "When I find a way out of here, I'll look into the possibility of seeing one of these rallies."

She was going to say something else when the intercom went off. It seemed it was time to move onto something else, though she wasn't sure how Rick was going to finish the rest of his food before his nurse came to get him.

"It has been a pleasure, Rick-san," Momo said as her nurse showed up. She gave the man a small bow and a smile. "I hope your day goes well. Excuse me." And then the shinigami left with the staff.

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Day 45: Breakfast

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Let's pretend I can spell. :|

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