damned_institute | Day 23: Lunch

Entry tags:

Day 23: Lunch

The second the intercom sounded, while the man on the intercom was still talking, Ashton pulled himself off the couch in the Music Room and slowly made his way to the door. He walked, glided even, as if he were a ghost in a dream. The nurses had already filed up to escort the patients to the lunchroom, and one bustled over to walk Ashton those few feet from one room to another.

"You're not looking very well, Mr. Pritchett," she said cheerfully. "Didn't you enjoy your shower?"

Ashton replied with a small, forced smile, then shook his head. He didn't feel like talking now. Though the nurses were pushy and downright annoying, he figured he owed this one at least a little explanation. They didn't know - or didn't believe - what went on after dark, but he owed them the benefit of the doubt. "Bad day," he decided on telling her.

Bad day indeed. The showers and the music had done nothing for his nerves. But then again, what could get that graphic image out of his head?

He glided ghostily through the taco line and settled on two chicken and bean tacos, with chips, a scoop of guacamole, two churros on the side, and a glass of apple juice. He wasn't used to this sort of food (save the juice) and he wasn't even sure he'd eat it, but the chances were high that he'd be able to pass it off on someone.

He was on the verge of tears again, too. What he would have given to just sit down next to a barrel and eat a hamburger.

Thank goodness the cafeteria was bare just now, too. It left all the corner tables open, the tables that shouted 'Don't talk to me, I'm brooding over here.' He sat at one, pushed his food a little away from him, and buried his head in his arms.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Darman raised an eyebrow: was he that obvious? The girl seemed to be able to read him and his mindset just as well as a fellow clone, which was surprising. Probably was used to looking at the minute changes in one's body language, but he had to wonder where that skill came from - most people didn't bother unless they had a good reason or necessity required it of them.

All in all, he only understood the part about these tacos not being very practical. That and something about the water being poisoned. That got his attention.

Darman froze for a second, taking her literally. "The water's poisoned? How do you know?"

Funny, he didn't feel very dead, but he supposed that it was possible to poison a prisoner over time. The clone didn't really see the point of that - if you were going to terminate someone, why take the slow way when a shot to the skull would finish the job nice and quick? - but then again, he didn't understand a lot of things these Earthians did. They seemed both backward and yet...somehow capable, always at odds with the obliviousness he'd seen exhibited in several of the individuals he'd met so far.

"Water's always poisoned; 'tis a rule, you know."

It did not take as long as one would imagine for Nursey McNursingson to arrive, pluck the Gambler away from his roommate, and throw some clothes at him. After changing, he found himself being precariously dragged to the lunch-room, Ms. Nursingson offering two things: a taco, and an ice-patch. Luxord just stuck with the ice-patch, as his face was still rather hurting after its run-in with Xigbar's fist.

In any case, Luxord made little warning before intruding on the conversation, nor waiting for permission to join the table. "Dear Alice, I see?" The smile he gave could have been brighter, but dear lord did his jaw sting by moving his mouth too much (as if that could shut the Nobody up). A glance at the other man, "and the one II harassed in the showers?"

"Pleasure to meet you both."

River just smiled broadly, laughing in reply to Darman's puzzled remark. He'd almost made a face. Almost made one, and she'd almost been responsible. When Luxord arrived to offer his two cents, she grinned up at him before turning back to the other.

"He understands. Always something you can't see. It's a game and it's not and you almost made a face." The girl seemed delighted as she chirped happily about poison and water. It was a past time, and the reactions revealed a lot. More than seeing everything at once, even. Dancing through Wonderland. Happy to be there.

"Alice indeed. And you're the Mad Hatter," River continued after taking another bite of her taco. She couldn't afford not to get sufficient nourishment considering... well, everything. Too much at stake to be weak, and too weak to put anything at stake. "Or maybe the Queen of Hearts. You were struck. In-fighting again? One thought of loyalty. One dreamed of it." The two thoughts seemed to run together in both her mind and her words. River reached out, almost coming close enough to touch his jaw, fingers stopping about an inch from it. "You don't always like the people you work with. So long as the job is done."

The clone glanced at the newcomer, his mind automatically accessing him for a possible threat in the second it took to look up. An inch or so shorter than him, about normal build for a human, glassy blue eyes, and pale blonde hair.

"I don't know who this Two is," Darman said, shrugging. The only person Darman had talked with in the showers was Azel.

He wasn't sure if they were the real names, but they were all he had: the girl was Alice, and Yellow was the Mad Hatter: at least according to the conversation, which right now flew over his head. Alice seemed to be either mentally deficit or, he realized, it was possible she spoke only in riddles. There had been a brief blurb in his flash instruction that said some humanoids preferred that mode of communication. Darman couldn't understand whatever the reason for: seemed easier to just say what needed to be said than making people guess your intentions.

At least someone was amused.

Darman dogged Alice and Mad Hatter again - the names he'd tagged onto them for now - with his usual single-minded focus.

"So then the water's not to be trusted?" He glanced then at Alice. She looked to be in a pretty good mood despite being a prisoner of war. "How's this a game?"

"I've not the heart to like much of anything." It was the truth, as pleased he seemed when he said it. The girl's mien was contagious. "Mad Hatter, Queen of Hearts, Cheshire Cat; it matters not in the long run, as I am who I am. Or I am who I'm not," a grin, ice-pack pressed to his jaw, "'tis difficult to depicture at times."

Luxord slipped into a seat and away from River's fingers, folding his own together as he crossed his legs and gave the clone a sideways glance. His smile just grew wider at the word "game," a stimuli to what kept him relatively sane, and he leaned in closer to the stranger. The other Organization members always seemed to compare his grins with a shark, and perhaps he knew why. "You do not know, my boy? Life is merely a sequence of games, lost chances, and mounting moments. Learn to play them well enough, and you may just get through alive." A tilt of the head, added with a chuckle. "If you've luck on your side."

As for the other's meeting with II… The Nobody leaned back again. "I suppose you must have a twin, then," he decided aloud, hand gone from his lap and to his chin, rubbing his goatee with his fingers in thought, "for I saw what I saw, and Xigbar would be too proud to not relinquish his name to his victims." The Gambler had known all too well about that ~~lying, insolent twat, he'd kill him for what he's done, he would~~.

"We're all who we're not sometimes," River answered Luxord, very seriously as she nodded in approval. He seemed to understand by nature, playing the game and falling into his role without having to think twice about it. If he sought advice, he understood the code then. It would make things less complicated. She turned to to Darman and grinned.

"Nothing's to be trusted. Especially not the water, but it's as he says. We're playing Martin Landel's game, whether we like it or not." The girl paused thoughtfully, eyes lighting up when she thought of a proper comparison. "Mother forces the children to play with kids they don't like sometimes."

As they sorted out personality issues and mistaken identities, River turned her attention back to her food, eyes locked onto it as she picked it apart, eating little bits at a time before she decided to throw her two cents in.

"No you. The other you," she explained.

Darman was lost. He didn't like being lost, but there it was - he didn't have a clue what they were talking about, not with all these riddles flying over his head. He'd been taught how to shoot and blow stuff up, not try to decipher word games.

At least he'd managed to finish his plate in the meantime. Still feeling a bit hungry, Darman picked up his plate and stood up, glancing around out of habit. He froze, spotting Schuldig's head of orange hair in the crowd...and right across from him sat General Kenobi.

"Excuse me," Darman said, and left. He wasn't going to go that extra distance and babysit Kenobi, but he'd certainly sit close enough that he could keep an eye on the Jedi General.

Hmm. Seemed the clone boy did not wish to partake in the conversation any longer. Oh well.

After watching the man depart, the blond turned his head back to the girl and, for once in a long while, smiled. It was foreign, the muscles in his face not particularly knowing how to make the gesture, but it was good enough, he supposed. "You'd play the game quite well, dear Alice." Trust had to be earned for the sake of victory; swimming up a down currant needed to be done at times.

"However, I wished to speak to you of other matters, if you don't mind." He'd listened to the conversation between Lust and the Captain in the library, so he knew of this "gift" the girl seemed to have. And considering the large number of people so devoted to her… ~~it'd be like ten birds with one stone~~. "River, was it not? I'm referred to as Luxord." He held out his hand to her, smile still in place ~~somehow~~.

River's eyes followed Darman's retreating form, curious as to why he'd decided to up and leave, even if the answer were rather obvious. It was known, and yet it was never to be seen. She would pretend to be blind, and perhaps the darkness would linger a while longer.

Luxord caught her attention shortly after the other man left, speaking of matters that seemed almost akin to negotiation. She cocked her head to one side, curious and bearing an amused, half-smile as she looked at him. Curious. The game would continue, then.

"I always do. I had a talent," she mused, whether the words were directed for the sake of personal amusement or to him. "Luxord. I remember..." Her voice trailed off. "I remember most of the bits. You're looking for something. You wouldn't have come otherwise. Every one of you is, but it's not something real. Abstract concepts..." The girl shook her head, forcing a sense of coherency that would be more disorienting than any riddles.

"Do you need help?"

He closed his eyes, fingers entwining on the table's surface at the girl's words. She did happen to know things, did she not? "You believe the heart is abstract?" Hm. "The emotions it produces may be, in a sense, but they've never said an abstract idea could not be elusive to some."

Whatever she meant by "remember" was a tad odd, but she was an odd girl. Some dead part of him wished to merely speak with her more and not do what the rest of him planned to, not just use her for information and chalk up a few more lines on the Manipulation Scale (that game wasn't even running anymore, with his attempted hatred for II, so what was the point?). She was a nice girl. Why do this?

Because nice people are destined to destruction, no matter how unfair it seems. This was not some fairy-tale, and there was no happily ever after for them, no prince charming or beautiful princess down the road ahead. This was life. Tyche spins the wheel, and what it lands on…

"I wished to inquire on what you know. Of us, the XIII and the others like us, and our roles in this catastrophic mess." Not that it would help, he knew their roles by now; they were the bad guys, no matter how sympathetic.

River only continued to peer at him curiously, as though she were deciding whether or not she wished to answer him clearly. The mind was an elusive thing, sometimes moreso than the ever-predictable heart. And what do do with the ones wandering in the darkness, what to do with the games and the cards and the streaks of good and bad and luck and fortune.

The intercom piped up again, issuing a shift change at the most inopportune or fortunate time. He would know of fortune, or luck and of games. And so River just laughed, standing up with an almost coy smile.

"Maybe I'll say. Maybe I'll dance through the motions, do what must be done or what must be said." She paused and looked to the nurse that had come to escort her away. She had to be cleaned. "Or maybe I'll let you handle the dancing."

And with that, she was away.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Day 23: Lunch

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject