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damned_institute2010-04-23 12:01 am
thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2010-04-23 12:01 am
Day 49: Noon - Tasty Burger
Once she'd found she wasn't in any danger whatsoever of hopping aboard the Pukemobile, Yuffie had gotten kinda peckish. She'd ditched the bagged breakfast ages ago, way back on the bus, and, haha, like hell was she trekking back over that way to get it. Too much to see in a town without a lot in it.
So, here she was. Sitting at a plastic table in a plastic chair, in the almost completely plastic 'Tasty Burger', with fries, chicken strips, and a banana shake to wash it down with. Yuffie wrinkled her nose, more put off by the Eastern-style 'meal' than the reproachful stares of the staff and patrons. The latter she was way, way more than used to. Came with the job description. All of the job descriptions.
"Should've gone to the Twin Pine," Yuffie muttered around the (plastic!) straw, slumping forward onto her damp, denim-clad elbows. Taking a long pull of vaguely banana-flavored gloop, she cast a deft, if bored, eye around the establishment. As always, she'd gone for the most strategic seat; one that let her see as much as possible, without cutting off her access to at least one viable escape route. Not that she wanted to look at the place. Eurgh.
It was still hard to reconcile how this place should have looked with how it did look. Quick repair jobs were one thing, but something about the set-up rubbed Yuffie the wrong way. It was the same the whole town over. Chips, here and there, cracks in windows and doodles on walls. But no scorch marks, no sign that there'd been a no-holds-barred battle tearing up the place from top to bottom. The residents were pissy and suspicious, but not in that way—not in a way that'd suggest they remembered what they'd done, what they'd turned into, and what the patients had done in return.
[Cloud and Nanaki~.]
So, here she was. Sitting at a plastic table in a plastic chair, in the almost completely plastic 'Tasty Burger', with fries, chicken strips, and a banana shake to wash it down with. Yuffie wrinkled her nose, more put off by the Eastern-style 'meal' than the reproachful stares of the staff and patrons. The latter she was way, way more than used to. Came with the job description. All of the job descriptions.
"Should've gone to the Twin Pine," Yuffie muttered around the (plastic!) straw, slumping forward onto her damp, denim-clad elbows. Taking a long pull of vaguely banana-flavored gloop, she cast a deft, if bored, eye around the establishment. As always, she'd gone for the most strategic seat; one that let her see as much as possible, without cutting off her access to at least one viable escape route. Not that she wanted to look at the place. Eurgh.
It was still hard to reconcile how this place should have looked with how it did look. Quick repair jobs were one thing, but something about the set-up rubbed Yuffie the wrong way. It was the same the whole town over. Chips, here and there, cracks in windows and doodles on walls. But no scorch marks, no sign that there'd been a no-holds-barred battle tearing up the place from top to bottom. The residents were pissy and suspicious, but not in that way—not in a way that'd suggest they remembered what they'd done, what they'd turned into, and what the patients had done in return.
[Cloud and Nanaki~.]
no subject
"Ah, just two eyes then? The other alien guy told me he had just one before," Sechs remarked. "But you've changed before too, eh? I was in my third body, an upgraded Fizziroy model, before I ended up here."
Sechs' smile fell, feeling the topic bring on another episode of homesickness into his system. "Yeah, I was humanoid before too, so it hasn't been a huge change. Just a matter of losing a few things and a whole load of power," Sechs replied sadly, his hand reaching up to rub the bear spot on his forehead, the same place where his "6" used to be. His fingers only felt the same organic skin there, no metallic marks or anything close to his former body. Dammit, he hated this place...
Lowering his hand, Sechs resumed drinking what was left of his root beer. Looking more solemn now, Sechs eyed his table mate. "So uh... If you found this flying 'police box' of yours, do you think you'd be able to get help for everyone trapped here?"
no subject
The Doctor recognized the homesickness on Sechs' face and voice; he was familiar enough with the feeling that it was difficult not to catch it. He'd already asked about the model name Sechs had mentioned, but he wouldn't press him with any further questions about his home. Maybe another time...
"Yes, I should be able to," he answered, brightening at the thought of the TARDIS. "Well, not get help, necessarily; the TARDIS would be help enough. I could get everyone out of here if I knew where it was."