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damned_institute2007-04-11 11:45 am
part1of3.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2007-04-11 11:45 am
Entry tags:
- adelheid,
- aidou,
- albel,
- alucard,
- amaterasu,
- ashton,
- axel,
- aya,
- azel,
- bakura,
- barret,
- caim,
- captain jack,
- carnage,
- claire bennet,
- cliff,
- darkwing,
- darman,
- dean winchester,
- dias,
- eddie brock,
- edward elric,
- elena (ffvii),
- envy,
- fox,
- gabranth,
- gin,
- goku,
- hakkai,
- haku,
- haru,
- heiderich,
- hikaru,
- hisoka,
- hojo,
- homura,
- hughes,
- kadaj,
- kyouya,
- larsa,
- larxene,
- lord recluse,
- lust,
- luxord,
- lyta,
- mal,
- matsumoto,
- miku,
- naminé,
- obi-wan kenobi,
- omi,
- otacon,
- qui-gon jinn,
- raine,
- raistlin,
- raven,
- reinforce,
- renji,
- reno,
- ritsuka,
- river,
- riza,
- rock lee,
- roy,
- rubedo,
- rufus,
- rukia,
- sasuke,
- schuldig,
- seimei,
- sephiroth,
- sora,
- takaya,
- tifa,
- tsuzuki,
- valyn,
- vergil,
- vincent,
- wesker,
- xigbar,
- zelos
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.
"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.
no subject
The nurse really wasn't helping his mood any. He responded to her empty questions with equally empty answers, trying his best to stay polite. He would rather let the staff think he was cooperative until he had a good excuse to appear otherwise.
He didn't care for the taco idea, really. He just let the nurse ('that blasted thing', his brain now labeled her) select whatever food she thought was nutritious for him and
escaped the cheerful menacesituated himself at an empty table. The reporter wasn't there yet. Recluse watched the door, waiting.