damned_institute | Day 46: Lunch

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Day 46: Lunch

The mere fact that she'd been susceptible to whatever hold the Institute had had on her yesterday was sufficient to leave Ayumu both upset and angry - no, not angry, downright furious, both at herself and whoever was responsible for that. But there was also the fact that because of it, she'd lost out on an entire day of work, and in several ways had ruined some of what she'd done already. That little conversation with Himura the day before, for instance, was something she'd sincerely prefer not to remember if she'd had any choice in the matter.

Unless the man was a complete moron, which, unfortunately, was one thing she couldn't believe of him, he had to have realized just who her brother was. After all the effort to keep that fact quiet (not exactly a secret, but certainly not advertised; half the Shinsengumi probably never even realized it because there was no reason to) she'd gone and chatted about it with him. Told him all about it, practically painted a bright target around a weakness that shouldn't have existed in the first place.

She'd spent the shift in the Sun Room pretending to sleep, while in truth forcing herself into calm. After years of practice she could shunt away the useless and distracting emotions, focusing only on what was important and needed to be at the forefront of her mind, and by the time the intercom signaled the lunch period she was feeling considerably calmer. The time to silently observe others had, as well, alerted her to something she probably should have noticed earlier: Mello was back. Would her previous objective be reinstated now? He seemed to have far less of a bulletin presence this time, so perhaps not. Still, though, it bore investigating.

None of her thoughts were visible, of course, as she moved through the line, examining the lunch selection somewhat dubiously. Now with the benefit of Yuuko's memories she might recognize the food, but she certainly didn't share the enthusiasm for it that her imaginary self apparently had. Ayumu skipped past that part and settled for the salad bar and some bread, then positioned herself in a place where she could watch both the door and the rest of the room, setting her journal open in front of herself as though planning to write something. There was far too much that she'd missed, too much work to do now.

[for Okita]

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More food. There was always some part of 622 that wondered why they were given three meals every day. It just seemed too generous, too much for this place. Why hadn't they been made to starve? People's defenses lowered significantly when all they could think about was getting food, after all.

He took some of the 'pizza' and sat down in the mostly empty mess hall, trying a bite of this strange new food. It tasted like grease and bread.

He had half the piece eaten before he even stopped to think.

[For one Doctor McCoy!]

Refueling shift, again. It was pathetic that meatbag bodies needed so much processed organic product to maintain function. It was especially irritating that something in his mouth was producing more saliva at the smell of whatever that flat, gooey-looking stuff that had been set down before him was.

You had to hand it to the meatbag body for coming up with disgusting subroutines. Smell lipids-->produce slime. Ugh.

[SHO!]

Okay, so that had been pretty cool. There might not be other Digimon here, but there were loads of people (well, two so far) who were actually giant robots. Sure, he knew some metal-type Digimon, but the idea of things like that from out in the Real World was a new and weird idea to him. Now, if only they weren't all jerks or grumpy old guys, then things would be great.

Actually, things were great anyway. He'd never had pizza before in his life, but now that he had, wow! Beelzemon started chomping on a pizza slice with enthusiasm. If there was one thing the Real World could do right, it was definitely food.

[Sylar! Come and get yer Digimon!]

Lunch was the greasy triangles again, and Hanatarou wrinkled his nose slightly as he regarded the food lying in front of him. At his nurse's prodding and claim that he "loved pizza" he took one piece and set it on his tray along with a piece of bread, then quickly moved on over to the salad. He was starting to get heartily sick of salad, but really, it was about the only edible thing they served.

He sighed and dropped into an empty seat and started picking at his food, eating more out of the knowledge that he needed it than any real hunger. It wasn't as though he expected to be able to do anything worthwhile, because, well, that would have been silly. But nothing he did really helped anyone, or got him any closer to getting back home, and...well, it was better than cleaning sewers in Seireitei and he had friends here, but sometimes he just couldn't help but want to go home. To just tend the 4th Division greenhouses and sweep the courtyard and have Hisagomaru's comforting presence at his side.

For now, though, all he could do was stare at his tray, completely oblivious to anyone and anything around him as he mechanically put food in his mouth.

[for Kenren]

Whoever that man was on the primitive speaker, McCoy was finding his bedside manner more and more abrasive by the second. Maybe abrasive was the wrong for it. He'd have called it sickeningly sweet. He preferred frankness, honesty, and being treated like an actual person, not someone you had to tip-toe around, dammit, or talk down to. He found it hard to trust any medical practitioner who felt like they had to resort to downplaying any potential problems to a patient's face. It made him feel as if they were hiding something. If they could go glossing over vital facts to a patient, who knew what they'd decide colleagues or commanding officers really needed to know? It was a slippery slope.

Either way, it made his skin crawl. Maybe it had to do with the almost oily way the man laughed. Maybe it had to do with the overly enthusiastic way he rattled off the menu, like he was trying very hard to sound that way. Or it might have to do with the way he was acting as if he was doing his patients all a favor by treating them as if they were children.

The fact that McCoy himself was a terrible patient may have contributed to his overall exasperation.

For lack of something better at the moment, and finally feeling hungry, McCoy stopped to pick up some food. It was the only good, and sensible, he thought, thing about this place; the seeming lack of food replicators. He turned and seated himself at the closet table.

McCoy didn't say anything at first. He did stare despite himself. He watched the male patient already occupying the other side all but inhale the food. It reminded him of the Commander earlier.

Never get between a man and his appetite, McCoy thought, even as his eyebrows slowly crawled up his forehead.

Edited 2009-12-20 13:31 (UTC)

Tim was more or less satisfied with the conversation he'd had with Mr. H during the last shift. Even though he probably could have continued it, it was all right. At least he had some sense of purpose again, which he'd been sorely lacking since coming here.

Now if only he could get in touch with Batman. Where the hell had he gone, anyway?

The Head Doctor sure seemed SUPER EXCITED or something about lunch. What an ass he was. Tim really wanted to meet him, just so he could dislocate his jaw real good. That, and there was no one else who would have any idea of how to get out of here. That much, he was pretty sure about.

He didn't see any familiar faces in the cafeteria when he got there, so he just got his pizza (pepperoni, thanks) and sat down. He wasn't sure garlic bread really went with the pizza, what with all the starch content, but whatever. Like he really cared about calorie count or something.

He sat down at a table and mulled over where he'd need to go that night. The rope and grappling hook thing was still important, and he hadn't heard back from Kvothe on whether or not they were going to team up. There were still a few shifts to go, though, so he wasn't super worried yet.

The pizza wasn't as good as some of the other food, but it could always be worse. Always.

[Oh, Harvey~]

Allen was definitely glad it was lunchtime. Even though he'd eaten just a couple hours ago, he could definitely eat again! Pizza didn't sound so bad. He got one three slices of cheese, but they wouldn't let him have a fourth. He was annoyed by that. Surely if they knew about him, then they knew he could eat without any problems. Oh, well. He supposed it was better than only having one piece. Plus there was salad and everything.

He found himself wondering, again, how the others were doing. He hoped they weren't too worried about him. He'd hate to see the look on Lenalee's face when they met again. She'd probably scold him for disappearing, but in the end it would be all right.

As long as they were all right, that was.

He shook that thought away. They had to be okay. They had to.

He sat down, not really paying attention to who else was at the table, and dug in to his pizza. No sense in wasting time.

[Waiting for a fellow Exorcist. Well, sort of.]

Well that'd been interesting. If Raph had been counting on the bulletin note to help him find some actual help, he might have been disappointed in how it turned out, but since it been kinda that and kinda just annoying the hell out of Pinky? It had worked out pretty well.

Of course there were some people who just couldn't take a hint and shut the hell up when they were told to, but he'd gotten some good offers of sparring matches out of it all, not to mention some meet ups. And who knew? It might even be fun.

Lunch was pizza, which made Raph think of Mikey again. He actually missed the goofball; lame jokes, annoying pranks, bragging about his stupid trophy and everything. Hell, he'd have put up with that bragging if Mikey and the rest of his bros were here and safe rather than somewhere else and in who knew what condition.

Raphael scowled and helped himself to a few extra large slices of everything before picking a place to sit down. If anything, worrying about his family should remind him that he had to get out of here as soon as possible. Find a way out, find his family, then worry about getting back to normal. He was already starting to go a little nuts without them all.

[for one pissed off pink-haired ninja]

L's conversation with Keman had been relatively simple, but useful, in its way. While the relative merits of feline companionship weren't worth discussing, he had been able to determine that Keman's experience the day before had been materially similar to his own: a replacement of his personality, coupled with an irrational unwillingness to credit logical arguments if they contradicted what he "knew" to be true. The difference was what had happened at night, and what it might mean.

He had also acquired information about healing. In another day, it would have been apparent anyway; still, even if he thought the mechanism was suspicious, it was good to know that he could expect the wound on his leg to vanish in short order. Between its rapid repair and the fact that he was favoring it, the pain had dulled to a stinging sensation.

He moved through the line, taking one slice of pineapple and ham pizza, a plate of salad, an indecent amount of fruit, and two cups of grape juice. When his tray was full, he made his way to a seat at a table apart from other people. A nurse tried to divert him on the way. He smiled at her, with no warmth in his eyes. "Yes, I have plans to meet a friend."

A repetition of his behavior at breakfast, and it seemed to be working, as long as the friends in question actually made an appearance. He watched the door as he began to eat.

L wasn't looking forward to the meeting he had planned, but the disaster that had been the previous day made it necessary. There was a lot of ground to cover. Laurier's story had to be demolished entirely; then, there was not only the question of events within the Institute, but the one of events at home. He hadn't had the opportunity for a second conversation with Matt.

Sunday had been like practicing at death. It was not a role he enjoyed, but he seemed to have a talent for it. He wanted to know the date of the scheduled performance.

[Mello.]

Edited 2009-12-21 01:07 (UTC)

Talking with Jade had been surprisingly relaxing. It wasn't exactly reassuring, since he still had no real friends in this place, but as he'd said, it was comforting to know that they weren't alone.

Though he was in higher spirits than he had been, he still felt no need to find someone else to sit with. Eating alone was one of those habits that he had yet to break, but in a place like this all he had were his habits.

And Jade. Never forget Jade, even if he was annoying and a liar and showed up at the worst possible times to belittle him and oh yeah he'd helped destroy his gorgeous machines Duplicitous snake.

Hey, Dist never said that he forgave him.

Dist had decided to stop griping about the food. Fattening yes, but it was very good, so he simply went down the line without a fuss. A quick glance around showed him that the cafeteria was mostly empty, so finding a place to sit by himself was quite easy.

Edited 2009-12-20 16:17 (UTC)

Ah, pizza. Abe really didn't like pizza. On the one hand it lacked proper nutrients and had far too much grease and meat in it to be worthwhile. On the one hand it was one of Hellboy's favorite stake-out foods (cheap, easy to transport, no utensils needed) and the smell brought back fond memories of dark nights huddling in the garbage truck, watching the cameras and heat sensors, waiting for something interesting to spring out of the darkness and face the twin might of Red and Blue as they stood between unwitting humanity and the dark unknown.

Hellboy would be proud of him, Abe mused as he craned his neck around to search for Minato in the crowd. He'd always said Abe needed to take a more aggressive role in their work rather than just being the "R" in BPRD all the time. As terrified for their lives as he'd been, the thrill of actually getting out and taking something down with his bare hands had felt quite good after his heart stopped pounding. Of course, Hellboy would probably take awesome points away for Abe's target being a human teenager...eh. The Persona's presence made it count.

Abe took a sizeable gathering of healthy fruit and vegetables from the "salad bar", eschewing the grease-covered meat and dough. Perhaps he could eat meat now, and perhaps he might even enjoy it on occasion, but this was not one of those occasions.

[Minato]

622 eventually noticed movement in his peripheral vision that had escaped his attention for... he didn't know how long. Oh, blast. He looked up, swallowing his current mouthful of food.

"Sorry I didn't see you there, sir," he said politely, trying to ignore the look. Yes, he ate fast. All troopers did, by habit and by demands of metabolism. But everyone here seemed to find it odd.

He wiped off his hands on a napkin and held one out to his tablemate. "Stormtrooper Sergeant TK-622. I haven't seen you here before. Are you new?" He tried to keep a vague mental tally of faces he'd seen before, and this man wasn't among them.

Last shift had been moderately productive. He'd have to think on what could be done with Haku. Normally there would be at least eight different plans that had presented themselves immediately, but this place had forced him to limit his thinking so much.

He took the food his nurse gave him without comment, finding an unoccupied table and sitting down, watching the other prisoners. And what plans do I have for all of you...

[Free!]

_{[For Nigredo, and possibly Albedo?]}

Once again, Yomi had no interest in food, or in the growing din of voices and movement. As though she were deep in thought, her eyes were on her feet as she walked.

No, her body didn’t need any rest or food, and certainly not that day, when she was more than ready to make up for her wasted time. After all, who thought they could put something like her in here and then go on to use her mind as a toy (more than it already was)? The scales would tip in her favour eventually, and when they did… But that was an obvious outcome, whether far into the future or not. In the present, she had a half a day to sit through before she could wriggle off the hook and perhaps do something worthwhile with her night. Half a day to be patient, all the while managing a strange sense of restlessness that started somewhere behind her eyes and ended in the itching of her hands.

Something was chafing inside, something that should have been smooth instead of sharp. It left her wanting… ugh, she didn’t know!

As she had with breakfast, Yomi took a seat without going through the line-up. She was not going to listen to the nurses’ squawks about eating; she had better things to do, a belated conversation to have. At the same time, the thought crossed her mind: did Yoshiko like pizza? Had she laughed over it with her blood sibling as Yomi had with Kagura? The phantom creeping inside her skin grew in response, and a flash of irritation cut through Yomi like a knife. She wanted to tell the source to shut up, but she didn’t know which part of her it was. Her? The sesshouseki? Yoshiko?

She crossed her legs and arms, squinting out at the overcast sky while she waited for Nigredo. And if he sidesteps me this time…

When lunchtime was announced over the intercom, Kagura almost ran to the front of the line in the cafeteria. She was so hungry. Not only had Kagura not been allowed to finish her breakfast, but she was also naturally a big eater, so this last shift had been like torture to her unsatisfied tummy. She might have looked like a slim teenager, but she could certainly pack food away. Maybe she had a high metabolism, or maybe she was eating Shiro's portion too? The spirit beast could certainly eat a lot, though he tended to prefer spiritual matter.

The teenage exorcist shamelessly gathered a ton of food, filling two trays, drawing several pairs of eyes in the process. She would've gotten more, but she could only carry two trays with her hands. If she had Shiro he would have been able to help her out too.

By now, Kagura was aware of the stares she was getting, so she decided to sit down at the closest available table. The only problem with that was the nearest table was already occupied by a white haired youth. "Excuse me. Do you mind if I sit down?"

Today had been very quiet so far, which didn't suit Teisel's current mood at all. Yesterday had been so strange, he felt as though he needed to do something to make up for it. Something violent, possibly, meaning he'd have to wait for nightfall.

In the meantime, he needed to keep his strength up. No moping, no fasting, and no wallowing in self-pity today! No! Today Teisel Bonne was his own illustrious self again, and that was cause enough to celebrate for now. Four slices of pizza seemed like a good starting point...

Giving his seatmate a cursory nod, he set into his lunch.

Good, lunch. Finally! Asuka couldn't move fast enough to get away from Kaworu and Shinji and their.......... well, suspicious behavior. Not that she was in denial or anything, but she still had her claws deep, deep in Shinji and it was going to take this new kid in town more than a little special attention to unhinge her.

Whatever. There were better things to think about right now. Namely...

Pizza! OhmyGodIlovepizza!Yespizzaahhhh!! Though her inner squeeing didn't betray the usual scowl firmly planted on her face.

The nurses followed her as usual, but once she found out the patients could actually serve themselves, the little redhead didn't let the orderlies get a chance to prance into line. She was not an invalid, she could get her own damn food.

Ignoring the fact that her blue eyes were bigger than her stomach at this point, Asuka felt no guilt in piling her tray high with tomato and basil slices, garlic bread and marinara sauce, and water (she was watching her figure after all). She all but hissed at her pair of hovering she-vultures as they tried to coax her into sitting with a stranger. She just wanted to eat her fucking food by herself was that so goddamn hard to understand? She was hungry. BACK OFF!

God, she needed to calm down. This was not conducive to survival. Anger just clouded the mind and allowed for stupid mistakes. Taking a few deep breaths, she found a vacant table to sit down at and inhale her food, and hopefully to cool off.

[Bring it Brainy Dx ]

_{[free, no limit]}

The vampire didn’t mind being in the cafeteria quite as much as usual. The weather so rarely changed, but yet it was fairly overcast, the perfect kind of day for vampires to be afoot in daylight without it being too much of a hassle. Too bad he’d already had to get used to the imperfect days… which was every day.

Biting back a yawn, Aidou entered the cafeteria, looking for faces of interest and coming up with nothing. Hmm.

For a Wednesday, it was to be junk food again, but he really couldn’t complain. In fact, he wasn’t even exactly looking at what kinds of pizza he laid out on a plate as he went through the cafeteria line, more interested in the door than in the food that was going to do little more than carry him for the next hour or so. He had other things on his mind, anyway. Those who had been making inquires about therapy had given him something else to consider for the next shift, when he was scheduled to meet with his doctor.

This time, Aidou was feeling more guarded than anything else.

That was quite the mouthful. It reminded him more of a serial number for a piece of machinery than the name for a man. The 'Stormtrooper' part of his rank was also strange. Definitely from a military organization with that rank. McCoy didn't know what organization he belonged to though. He'd never heard of one that used that designation.

The doctor took the offered hand. He had a strong grip. "You could say that. Chief Medical Officer McCoy."

He paused, consideringly. The name did sound familiar. He wasn't sure if the exact number was a match but he thought he'd heard it yesterday.

"TK-622? I think Commander Hayes mentioned you last night," McCoy said. That was if this was the man in question, but how many people had a name like that?

There really was a cafeteria, and they really were serving pizza for lunch. It wasn't quite like anything Shizuru had ever seen before. She could come up with no reason why she was here, nor were the nurses (and she could tell by now that was what they were) providing much help. This was some kind of hospital--but she was uninjured. The one who needed care was Natsuki, and she was nowhere to be found.

That was what worried Shizuru most. It terrified her, in point of fact--but she couldn't let that show. Instead, she politely took her food, smiled as she received it, and headed for a seat where she could get as good a view as possible of the area. Maybe examining the people around her could give her some clues.

And so she remained calm, or at least apparently so. Actually, realizing that many of the people around her were just as upset as she was to be here, or at least seemed to be, even if they didn't seem as confused as she felt, was a bit of a relief. A worst-case scenario would have had her being the only one out of sorts.

[free!]

622 shook the man's hand firmly, a gesture which was mostly unfamiliar to him at his rank, but still common enough to be the polite thing to do.

A medic. That was something he respected. The good work of human and droid medics had kept him alive for as long as that had been possible. Medics were valuable people, especially the experienced ones.

"Yes, I was going to meet up with Commander Hayes at an RV point we'd chosen before moving on to find him a weapon." He shrugged just slightly, "But events decided to line up against that plan." It happened. Frequently. It didn't really bother him all that much, now that he knew Hayes hadn't been eaten by anything.

The arrival of his new tablemate didn't even warrant a raised eyebrow. It seemed that lunch today would be spent sitting next to someone almost as big as himself, but with much more hair. Recluse had seen stranger appearances before.

In his mental catalog of the other prisoners, this one had been a vague presence for a while now, often a little louder than the rest. Well, he'd see what he could make of this one. "I suppose introducing myself would be the polite thing to do now," he said, the daytime mask of civility and actually caring about other people already in place. "Stefan Richter," He extended a hand to the other man.

A weapon? In a hospital? McCoy wouldn't have seen any reason for it if it hadn't been for last night. After seeing what that thing had done to Jim, now he could believe it.

He hadn't ever seen anything like it occur naturally. Perhaps it was a native of this planet, wherever this was. This was supposedly a replica of Earth, but he'd never heard to what extent. If it was a limited area, it made sense that the native flora or fauna might start leaking in. But if whoever made this place was powerful enough to make it and yank people from all over, then McCoy couldn't see how such a power couldn't keep out animals.

That was if they weren't letting them in. McCoy generally thought the worst, and this time was no different.

So this was the Commander's source about the institute. He could begin to understand why Hayes might have gotten along with him. They appeared pretty similar: military background, same no-nonsense attitude.

"I'm afraid that's partially my fault, Sergeant. We ran into someone who needed medical attention," McCoy said. As an afterthought, as way of explanation, he added, "Hayes is my 'roommmate'."

"Understandable, sir. The best thing to be done here is to keep everyone alive long enough to make it out." Not that anyone had found a way yet, so a medic's skills were likely to be in high demand for quite a while.

"Ah. Well it's good that you traveled together, at least. Individuals trying to head out on their own are far more likely to meet resistance they can't handle here." Still, if they were both new, then McCoy didn't have any weapons either, so it was just double the meatshielding with nothing in the middle.

"Do you have a weapon yourself, sir? The cell block is usually safe, but if you plan on leaving that area then you're going to need some way to keep yourself defended."

Ah! Pizza! Now this was more like it!

Being sure to gather up a plateful of meat-only slices and chips, along with a large drink to go with it, Sechs carried his burdened food tray to his usual aloof spot farther down in the cafeteria. It felt like it had been months since Sechs had such a bounty of food or even the appetite to stomach such an amount. Instead it had only been a few horrible days that stole most of his desire to eat. Today, the talks he had with Kibitoshin and ZEX had eased a good portion of his anger. But the results of the fight from the night before still loomed overhead, along with a new set of problems: the two idiots who got in his way.

Slouching over his plate with both elbows leaning on the table, Sechs hungrily woofed down his meal like a starved canine. He was going to need as much nourishment as possible to face today's problems head-on. Once in awhile his wolfish eyes would sweep the area for any familiar faces -- and threats.

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Day 46: Lunch

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