damned_institute | Night 49: Group Therapy Room 2

[Stumbling in from here.]

The knob turned and Sechs pushed the door open. As he exited through, the Replica bowed his head, expecting the thunderous weather outside to greet him with an instant downpour of rain. Instead, a brief sensation of falling startled Sechs before he felt his mind crash into an impossible set of new senses--

"Wha--?"

He didn't find himself within the soaking darkness of the recreational field, but instead he had somehow stumbled into a near pitch black room...?! Blinking almost comically, Sechs' vision scrambled to catch up with the new layer of darkness. The surprised android jerked his head around in every direction his neck would allow. His wolfish eyes nearly bulged as they took in the new room, but his brain was a few seconds late to catch up on all the new data. So far he could spot only a few chairs and tables about, nothing terribly interesting. Was this some kind of office? But weren't they going outside just a second ago?!

There didn't seem to be any danger in the small room either, but the Replica's brain was still reeling from the abrupt change of environment, sending his bewildered system into high alert. Once his senses got a firm enough grip on what just happened, Sechs could only determine that for some crazed reason, he had just ended up inside some room instead of the recreational field outside.

He could really have cared less for that particular conclusion.

"Alright!" Sechs snarled, his eyes still darting around for a more sensible answer. "What gives here?!"

Then a chilling thought came to mind. Shit! What if this was just the drug screwing around with him again?! Sechs couldn't see the usual living shadows swirling throughout his vision yet, but he could never be sure... Not moving from the spot, Sechs checked over his shoulder to see if Forte had ended up in the impossible room as well. It was the only way Sechs could think of to discern if this was all just in his head or something else...

"Forte...?"

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"No, my life's been pretty chaotic for a bartender..." She didn't think a first meeting needed to include her recounting her exploits as a terrorist or chasing down a genocidal maniac however. Tifa would save that can of worms for another time. Uncomfortable saying much more about herself, the young woman looked over at Logan in the dim lighting. A warm trickle began to flow down her lip again and she quickly turned away to wipe it on her arm. The couch was low enough that she could rest her head back against the soft leather and elevate her face.

"I hope it's not broken..." She had gone at least a good seven years fighting without a break, Tifa going to be pissed if this stupid little institute ruined her streak now. "Anyways..." The last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her face, so she did her best to change the subject. "So what about you? Is this just like one more day in the life of Logan?"

'I hope it's not broken' wasn't the kind of thing you could just ignore. Logan leaned forward and grabbed his flashlight. If she'd managed to dodge all that crap with a potentially broken bone, he was going to be legitimately impressed. It was kind of stupid for anybody who wasn't him, but working around pain was something he could appreciate.

"Pretty much," he said, intending to leave it at that. If you wanted to get technical, an average day involved a lot more cutting through warm bodies, especially lately, but if she meant that it was bizarre and dangerous, then yeah, it was typical. "You think you broke somethin'?"

"Augh, I dunno, I've never broken a bone before..." Okay, well, that was not exactly true. She had fucked up her hands plenty of times when she was young and inexperienced at martial arts. And that giant scar she had across her chest, but the question had been "broke", not "slashed".

"I pretty much face planted into your back when we crashed into all that food. You have a brick wall for a back if you didn't know..." She began to laugh, but it upset her stomach and holy shit she was starting to feel a bit light-headed. It had been easy to ignore the pain in the crazy death by falling rocks room due to being flooded with adrenaline and exhaustive practice fighting despite injury. "I hadn't felt it before, but it's starting to throb now..."

This is the last thing we need tonight!

And no potions or cure to just fix her right up. Augh, this place was horrible!

A brick wall for a back - that touched something Logan had noticed on and off for the past day: he felt lighter. It was an uneasy thought, a thought that brought him back a few years, and he didn't know what to do with its implications right now but ignore them. He didn't have time to think about that bullshit. He set his beer down on the table decisively.

"Close your eyes a minute," he said, and pointed his flashlight at her. He knew a thing or two about broken noses - he'd never needed to worry about his own, but he still considered himself a pretty good judge of a banged-up nose. He studied Tifa's for a second - it wasn't obvious, if it was broken. He pressed his fingers to the sides, consciously gentle. "This hurt?"

"What're y--?" Ugh, this wasn't that big of a deal. Was it because she was a woman? Really, she could just walk it off until the night was over, she wasn't going to allow this man's chivalry or misogyny back her into the timeout corner.

Narrowing her eyes at his command, she eventually relented and squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn't last long. The moment he touched her, pain blossomed across her face and made her eyes water. Reflexively, the brunette turned away and slapped him across the neck. "Ow! Yes! Goddamn... Listen, if you can't use cure on it, don't just poke at it..." She felt a bit childish pouting at the man, but fuck! He didn't need to be touching shit that shouldn't be touched.

It wasn't a completely surprising reaction, since touching it must've hurt, but Logan couldn't help raising his voice a little: "Relax. I was tryin' to see if it was broken." He looked away, took a second to calm down. She was probably scared; she was in a bad place with a maybe-broken nose, and being scared made thinking harder ('use cure on it' was pretty good evidence of that).

"Anyway," he continued, "bad news is I think you broke it. Good news is I can't really tell until you put some ice on it." He stood up, slinging the makeshift satchel of stuff over his shoulder, and grabbed his beer. "So let's go find some ice."

Oh goody.

Her nose ached, her head hurt, she felt dizzy and nauseous, and she was going to be stuck like this for the rest of the night. Maybe the following day too. This was a downer, but at least it was only her nose. Tifa had to keep reminding herself that she could still function, even if she was a bit on the woozy side. Plus she wasn't alone. Logan seemed to have a good head on his shoulders so she wasn't too worried. She was more worried about all of her supplies making it through the night.

Standing up was a surprising challenge though. It agitated her light head and stomach, forcing her to take a seat while she regained her equilibrium. "H'alright, let me try this again--Oh crap, hold on!" Light-headed or no, the brunette scrambled over to a corner behind the couch and put her head between her legs just in time for her to hurl back up her dinner. This was embarrassing. Tifa prided herself in being rather more professional than this, but it really couldn't be helped. Taking a few lungfuls of clean air, she coughed and threw up one last time.

Side-stepping toward the table of food so Logan couldn't see her red-eyed and nasty face, she grabbed a few napkins and cleaned herself off. "Oh..." Se almost forgot the apples. She grabbed three and turned around, looking anywhere but at her companion for the night. "Alright, now we can go..."

Whether it was nerves or something to do with her nose or whatever else, Logan didn't know, but he turned toward the door out of rare courtesy. It didn't bother him; he'd seen his own intestines and watched his muscles grow back, but if he'd learned anything about women in all the years he'd been alive, it was that they didn't like to feel - in a word that Kitty would've used to describe it - gross.

He turned back when she joined him at the door and pulled it open for both of them. If whatever the hell was going on tonight didn't land them somewhere with ice, they could just keep moving until it did.

Night 49: Group Therapy Room 2

:/ I have no icons of TIfa with a bloody nose WHAT IS THIS?!

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