damned_institute | Day 50: Cafeteria (Brunch)

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Day 50: Cafeteria (Brunch)

Somehow, after their talk in the chapel, Elaine felt simultaneously more accepting of and more irritated by her future husband. On the one hand, seven years had clearly been good to him. He seemed more sincere and thoughtful than he had been before his disappearance, and he had a more mature (dare she say, handsome?) look to him. On the other hand, there were clearly some things that made even time throw up its hands in vain and say, "To hell with this!" Guybrush was still inexorably prone to disastrous accidents if the story about the Pox of LeChuck was anything to go by, and he was so obviously keeping something important from her that any passing dolt in the Institute would have been able to tell. In the end, that eternal underlying sweetness of his that won out, keeping her from punching him again, at least. That was only by a hairs width, though. Her snugglecakes was going to have to stay on his best behaviour if he knew what was good for him.

She left the Mighty Pirate™ alone for the time being when the announcement of the next shift went off. He would want some time to catch up with Morgan next, presumably. As much as the woman's attitude bothered her, she was a friend of Guybrush's, as she had claimed. Elaine could be strict, but she wasn't the kind of shrewish future wife/past fiancé who would keep her man from seeing his friends. Besides, she needed some more time to catch up on the goings-on of the Institute. Patients filled the building to the brim, now, it seemed; there would be a lot to investigate.

After a few quick trips back and forth to the bulletin and a few new leads to follow up on, the governor gave in to her nurse's persistent nagging and headed to the cafeteria for brunch. After the relatively light fare of the day before, Elaine took advantage of the Institute's admittedly scrumptious offerings and loaded up a full, balanced brunchfast of eggs, sausage links, waffles, and vegetable soup. As expected, the selection of drinks did not offer either root beer or grog. Grog she could live without, at least, she thought while making a face. Eugh. For now, she settled for a tall glass of water.

Elaine settled into a seat in the cafeteria and tucked into her meal. Her eyes didn't stay on her food, though, instead gazing around restlessly; she hadn't seen LeChuck so far this morning, and god forbid he wanted to invite himself to brunch with her if he chose now to show up. A certain horribly unpleasant dinner on Mêlée Island came to mind. She was prepared to either move at the first sign of the dread pirate or signal a random stranger to sit with her before he could.

[For Dean]

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Oh good, he was understanding. Which, Donna suddenly realized, was because she'd either made little sense to him, or had given him a reason to think her suspicious. Really, with how much she might've not trusted a person who said they ran around using different names... better try to undo the damage at least.

"That probably sounded shady, didn't it?" she said sheepishly, "It's not that I like using other names though. Or having them given to me," she grumbled, glancing off at a nurse because that was the closest of the staff, "Just that my friend doesn't like people knowing who he is. Can't say I understand why, but once he's given some name off it'd look stupid not to just go along with it." She waved a hand and sighed. That spaceman...

Small though Donna knew the world (i.e.: Earth) to be, she didn't think she'd have forgotten someone who gave that name. But she did tile her head across at the man, studying him with a quizzical expression. "You know what, you do look a bit familiar," she said with a point of the index finger towards his face, "but I don't have the slightest idea as to why that would be. Not because you're a Doctor, certainly..." with the one she knew, that was enough. And she'd be in trouble if the Doctor ever proved to have some evil twin running about. Or maybe he was the evil one. Mental one, no doubt.

The brief glance didn't go unnoticed by Elaine, and by itself was enough to tell her at least a little bit more about the man. Either Dean was from a place not so afflicted with ghosts and zombies and now thought she was a bit crazy, or he too was all too familiar with the undead (either here or at home) and had made a note to reappraise her. Judging from the lack of bugged-out eyes and/or eyebrow raising, she was betting the latter. He was going to be a lot more helpful to her if that was the case.

"Hmm, not a term I've heard before, but I like it," she answered to the bit about being a "Ghostbuster." What a great title that would make, she thought. Ghostbusters. Someone had better get on the trademark for that. "In any case, ghosts I've handled. Only problem is I'm betting this place doesn't stock any voodoo antiroot. Without that, dealing with ghosts is much more troublesome." Maybe that was why the Institute didn't offer root beer; it might be bad for the health of more than just the living residents.

"What did you see in the kennels, then?" she asked, leaving the ghosts for later. "And where is that exactly?"

Edited 2010-06-21 23:25 (UTC)

England just stared for a moment, frowning at the question. "Yes, that's what they're called," he said slowly after a moment, a little suspicious. Surely everyone had heard the term. It wasn't exactly uncommon. "And they're nothing to be stared at," he added a little snappishly, smoothing them out self-consciously. He didn't think that they looked so bad. They were dignified! And he didn't appreciate the condescending look that he was being given.

The giggle was just a little unnerving and England covered his discomfort by taking a few bites of food, staring down at his plate. "Ah," he said a little disapprovingly. "And what exactly was your unique viewpoint?"

"So the plants in your world need mana to live," Rita summarized, folding her arms across her chest. "But... on Terca Lumireis, plants and animals live just fine without exposure to mana. I wonder if life forms surrounded by an abundance of mana grow to depend on it over time..." Like a sort of evolution. Just as the Entelexia evolved to use mana, perhaps the rest of the world would follow in their own ways.

What Rita and her friends were doing was something that could irrevocably change the world and everything in it. She was aware of that, but it wasn't until she started thinking about it in terms of centuries and millennia that she realized just how great that change may come to be.

It was an exciting prospect, but also a worrying one.

"What, exactly, is a Cruxis Crystal?" she asked after taking a moment to try and absorb what she was being told. People of the past once referred to blastia as 'crystals,' and so she suspected that this 'Cruxis Crystal' may have special properties worth learning about.

Matt just made a disgruntled face as he was basically led into the cafeteria, like a small, helpless child. He was rather helpless right now though, wasn't he? Pathetic, that attempt to escape; now his head had cleared a bit more, and he grimaced at the blatant lack of logic in his escape as the orderlies guided him into the seat.

Glaring down at the tray piled high with food, Matt frowned, sliding down in the chair to get comfortable. He really didn't feel like company, and seriously hoped that his current sitting position and unhappy expression would deter any potential nuisances - but that hadn't worked out so well for him the day before, had it?

Sighing, he just poked at the food, wondering if he should refuse to eat or not. He needed strength for the upcoming night, he figured after another moment, so he stabbed a piece of waffle and let the process begin.

Edited 2010-06-21 23:34 (UTC)

[*aligns the planets correctly...*]

Cloud didn't like being pulled away from Tifa, even if the injury wasn't all that devastating. At least they were all going to the same place, and he didn't think she'd run into much difficulty just getting brunch. He did wonder if she'd be able to eat properly with the bandages as they were, but the nurses seemed intent on keeping them apart from each other. (Well, they probably didn't even notice, but it certainly seemed that way.) By the time he had a tray of food he'd lost her in the crowd.

With a sigh, he found himself another table, catching sight of an off-looking young man who must have just found himself on the wrong end of a sedative needle that morning. Company was company, and the rest of AVALANCHE that he could see at the moment appeared otherwise occupied. He'd catch up with them all eventually.

The blond smiled as he set his tray down across from Matt. "Mornin'. You gonna be okay?"

Matt grunted as some blond guy started to walk over; he started to rile up a bit at first, thinking it was Mello coming over to finish their fight from the night before. His mouth seemed glued shut though, and he just sank lower into the chair as the other male sat down across from him.

Blinking, Matt watched him with his good eye. Oh, thank God it's not the psycho, he thought when he realized that it was some other blond guy. Matt had lucked out for the first time that day.

"Mm. Yeah." Why couldn't the floor just open up and let him fall through? He did not feel like being sociable - though. When did he ever?

The human's eyes moved from Amaterasu to the seat across from her. Did he want to sit down? She could see the reluctance in his stare, yet could not comprehend it. Why was he so hesitant?
Mortals were such trivial life forms. As a goddess, it had been her duty to watch over and protect them from the Celestial Plains. She'd even spent a few centuries in their realm, walking among them. So, with all her experience, why was it still so difficult to understand the way they worked?

Humans responded positively to acts of kindness, didn't they? That was why everyone in Kamiki Village liked Kushi. She was nice, generous and was what Issun called a 'sweetie'.
They also liked to talk a lot, much to Ammy's displeasure. That was something she would have to get used to for the time being. Falling asleep during long conversations would probably come off as rude here and she had no idea how long her stay would last.

So far, this particular human wasn't speaking very much. Either that was just his nature or she was frightening him. Or both.
Perhaps all she needed to do was to act like Kushi and show him some kindness. Being nice had worked well with the overly-apologetic boy in the Sun Room, after all.

Amaterasu's smile turned into a brilliant grin and she lifted a finger to point at the empty seat across from her.

"Sit?" she asked, once again tilting her head ever-so-slightly.

Her feminine voice was enthusiastic this time and it thrilled her to hear it again. Talking certainly wasn't going to get old, that was for sure.

At this point, it honestly felt like he was running around in circles. He had told Spock about as much as he could about Sylar without over-sharing, so now it was up to him to decide what to do about it. Peter had done his part, and while he was going to end up worrying about Sylar's roommate either way, at least he'd gotten the word out. It was starting to feel like it was time to move onto a different subject.

However, then the man asked another question and Peter felt his gears grinding. He still remembered Sylar's taunts about how he was just trying to push the work of dealing with him onto someone else, like Tyki, when all he wanted to do was warn everyone. Everyone seemed to think he had some ulterior motive, Spock included, but that wasn't it at all. Did he give off an untrustworthy vibe somehow?

"I don't want you to do anything except... be aware of it and stay on guard. I know I already warned you, but I just wanted to be clear about it and... check in on you, I guess." Even if Spock looked fine physically, there had been no way of knowing what had gone on during the days since their last talk.

"Anyway, we can leave it at that," he said, willing himself to take another bite of his food despite the subject matter and his somewhat aggravated mood. "Unless you had other questions." If nothing else, Spock seemed eternally curious, which was better than being completely apathetic.

Bella smiled, then sighed. "I admit, I'm jealous of your little ... quirk?" she said with a grin, continuing. "Though I can see how it might cause you problems ... how long have you been like that?" her tone became hushed then, not wanting anyone to hear them. Lord knew some people had exceptional hearing.

"That sounds ... amazing," she admitted, sighing. Leaning back in her seat, she swirled her juice around in her cup. "I really wouldn't mind a baseball bat. As long as I don't have to hit a ball or anything ... though, you know what, since I was so dangerous to others while playing volleyball, of all things, I'm sure me plus a baseball and a bat would mean really bad news for the monsters roaming around at night." She was joking, of course. ... If she were to get a baseball bat AND a baseball, she was sure she'd only hurt herself in the process of hitting the ball.

And that was a humiliating image.

"Especially since I don't think I'll be able to use those glass shards," Bella admitted with a frown, holding up her bandaged hands, wiggling her fingers slightly. "Unless I wrap the sharp side I hold onto up with something ..." It was a good idea, but she doubted it would fly with Edward once nightfall came.

"I've seen some people wandering around with swords, too," she said with a frown. "I wonder how they got so lucky."

"I know Neku," Kairi said with a smile, embarrassment crossing her features. "On my first day back I mistook his hair for yours. You had to admit you both have the same crazy hair! It wasn't my fault."

However, at the mention of his home, she blinked in surprise. "Japan? Oh, what was it called ..." she tapped her fingers against her lips for a moment before finally speaking. "Oh! Shibuya, right?" She was jealous, she admitted to herself. During her travels with Carter last night, neither of them had been lucky enough to walk through a door and into one of their homes. If she had been to Destiny Islands ...

She didn't want to think about it, though. Going back there without the two of them didn't make it home, just like it wasn't home before.

Turning to Riku, Kairi held up her fork, preparing to stab at another piece of fruit. "How is she? Naminé ... I ... haven't spoken to her in a while ..." and for that she felt utterly terrible. She was being a horrible Other. She only hoped that the blonde didn't take it as a sign that she didn't care, because that was completely wrong.

"Don't worry. I won't press you." Though if he looked like he was going to have difficulty eating or something, Cloud knew he'd have a hard time not offering his help - embarrassing for his tablemate as it would be. So perhaps sitting here hadn't been the best of ideas.

At least he could introduce himself. He stretched a hand out across the table. "I'm Cloud, by the way. Cloud Strife." And he tried to sound casual when he said it. If the guy was sluggish he wasn't going to want some jackass shoving his hand in his face with an overenthusiastic grin. The greetings should be kept to a minimum, then he'd see how up the other man was for talking.

As tempting as it was to just lean forward across the table and see what Leonard was writing down, Harvey didn't think that would make the best impression -- chances were the guy would take that down, too. He wasn't sure why he was so curious about what the man thought of him in the first place, but it probably had something to do with a general concern about image. That had always been on his mind while running for DA, and while the very idea was ludicrous now, considering his face, he clearly hadn't kicked the habit entirely.

The question Leonard had was a valid one, and Harvey even had some manner of answer. "Well, the place we ended up, it was... the office of one of the people I was with. He's a professor. He knew all the people there, even if they couldn't see us. That's the thing, they acted like we weren't even there. Even if it was just some sort of delusion, how could we end up somewhere that matched everything Jones knew to a T if it wasn't real?"

He didn't bother censoring Jones' name, since he doubted that Leonard would actually write it down. As through as he tried to be, there was no way he could get it all written out before he forgot it all over again.

The whole situation just had him baffled, though. He wanted say that it was fake, or some elaborate act, but none of those rationales checked out one-hundred percent. That seemed to be theme in this place -- nothing ever made perfect sense.

Yes, it was the symbol of his demon. The transformation started with the mark and spread. But once again, Heat wanted to avoid the details, especially since this looked like the sort of kid that might get too nosy and ask things he shouldn't. A lot of people were like that here, though in their defense there wasn't much else to do here at times aside from talking.

Especially when one didn't have their own meal to eat, like now. "It marks me as having certain abilities," he decided on finally. "And if it glows brighter than that, you're in trouble." If it spread, in other words, glowing lines like webbing moving outward from the mark. But yeah... details.

His other hand began tapping his leg, light and without rhythm. There was too much time left until nightfall.

Matt just nodded slowly, appreciatively, at his first few words. Nice, open people like this guy seemed to be just disturbed Matt; what the hell did they have to be so nice about? But he couldn't discount it right now. His time would be better spent trying to use such a personality to his advantage, despite the haze currently filling his head.

He pulled away a little from the hand, but settled when it stopped coming closer. At least Cloud was applying a decent amount of distance to their interaction, which was an obvious step up from the staff at Landel's. His arm felt heavy, but that didn't stop him from continuing to poke at that waffle.

He figured Cloud was expecting his name in return. "Matt," he complied before really thinking it over. Whatever, he thought, when he realized what he'd said. It's just another alias, really - and a useless one, now that I'm stuck here. He just couldn't seem to fight that overwhelming hopelessness now.

Might as well try to learn something. Though he really was starting to hate the obnoxious amount of people gathered in the facility. He eyed Cloud a moment before asking, in as clear a voice as he could manage, "Been at Landel's long?"

That was a pretty generic response, which might mean that Zack was just reading between the lines a little too much. Either that, or Nanaki wasn't going to be completely forthcoming, which he couldn't fault him for too much. A lot of people didn't trust him off the bat because he used to be with Shin-Ra, and this was also the first time they'd met, regardless of how well Cloud might have spoken for him.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," he agreed with a nod as he chewed on a piece of sausage and glanced off in thought. "I have some experience with this kind of thing, though. I'm still not sure if Landel is quite as bad as Hojo." Though he was reminded of the situation Yuffie had painted for them last night, and had to suppress a shudder.

Chances were that Nanaki had heard of Hojo at one point or another, through Cloud or just as a matter of course, and so Zack didn't bother to explain. He didn't want to make the teen feel like he was being patronizing, after all. As much as he teased Yuffie, he didn't really see age as a sign of inexperience or ignorance.

Thus far, only Leon had responded to the posting he'd put up for Claude on the bulletin, which left Guy uneasy. Chances were that Ronixis just hadn't seen it yet, seeing how he'd been around the night before, but as for the other two, he had to be realistic in his admittance that he hadn't seen either one around in a while.

It was strange, because Dias had been involved with the coliseum the same way that he had, and Ashton had only just come back after his first disappearance. It seemed like odd timing for both of them to vanish, but it wasn't as if Landel ever pulled people away in a way that made sense. He just didn't want to be the bearer of bad news for Claude, but he would do so if he had to. It was part of being a friend -- you had to stick around for the good and the bad, and at Landel's it was usually bad.

He was distracted from his worrying thoughts halfway through his meal, when a girl he'd seen around a few times came over and asked to sit. Hopefully she was more polite than that Erika girl, though Guy knew that her behavior had been far from normal. Smiling politely at the stranger, he nodded and gestured to the seat across from him. "Go right ahead."

The shinigami was certainly more polite than the 'detective', even if Erika's mannerisms tended to amuse Momo. With a warm smile, she settled down.

"Thank you. I hope I'm not disturbing you," she replied. "You seemed lost in thought."

Talking with another death god was always such a nice way to spend a shift. He needn't pretend to have more or less power than he did or play at being human either. He could just be himself and it was ever so refreshing to do that. With how often he had the nurses on his back about this or that, or how often he was checking over his shoulder for some teen blunder and his stupid waffle knight to have called the calvary on him, he usually spent his days in one giant ball of tension. He did so hate playing along with the game, but he knew from experience that few people would find a murderer like him pleasant company. Even if that murder was decreed by God Himself. People could be so narrow-minded at times.

As soon as he could, Grell picked up his tray and his food (although that tea was simply distasteful being decaf so it was left to languish) and disappeared into the crowd. The last thing he wanted was his nurse trailing after him, fussing over how Geoffrey might trip and hurt himself. The disguise had many people fooled, but it was growing tiresome to play the part. Thankfully, Grell quickly spotted someone else with whom he had no need to keep up the act.

"Well, don't you look like a ray of sunshine." Grell slipped into the seat across from Sylar and offered him a smile. "Rough night?"

"Sit?" she asked and she sounded rather happy to have him join her, so he nodded his head and set his tray down across from her, bowing his head again in thanks. There was something so peculiar about her though. She had the classic sort of beauty that Mori had often seen in Japanese art, but her hair was more modern in cut and shape. Perhaps she was from his country too, then? Although where she could have been raised was beyond him. Even Haruhi would probably have been shocked by the way she ate, meaning she couldn't be a commoner. Haruhi knew all about commoners, right?

"Thank you," he said after a moment's pause as he sat down. She seemed to be almost as taciturn as he was, but in a different way. Her silence wasn't as heavy as his could be at times, and instead she had this light and airy atmosphere about her that was almost refreshing in a way. Maybe it was her smile - like sunlight on a summer day. It reminded him of Mitsukuni when he smiled and it helped him relax a little.

Now came the hard part.

"Morinozuka Takashi. You can call me Mori though." It's shorter that way, he added silently in his head. Introductions out of the way, he bowed his head a little and then looked to the woman's tray again. She'd been so voracious earlier. Had she had enough to eat? Picking up the extra plate of pancakes, Mori held them out to the woman to see if she wanted them.

A new distribution system? Interesting. It was true, they were limited in what information they could gather and share over the bulletin boards. The staff were making things unnecessarily difficult. Even if they weren't, the presence of some patients made posting on the bulletin more of a cautious venture than a productive one. Circulating journals and collectively updating them was actually a pretty good plan assuming it was organized well. People could write exactly what they witnessed and newer patients could be warned ahead of time regarding the dangers this place held.

But that was only looking at the smaller picture. If the established clubs worked together on this project, it would create a small sense of unity. Collaborating on one collective front would open the avenue for further endeavors and may actually make people think about working together more often. Once that was established, it wasn't hard to imagine a possible, institute-wide force working against Herr Doktor. ...Clever. He liked it.

Unfortunately, the plan only worked under the most idealistic of conditions. It was a little presumptuous of the influence of the clubs. Since Lamperouge had apparently been keeping tabs on the clubs and their memberships, Klavier trusted he knew what he was doing by suggesting such a plan, but it still felt like a stretch. Even then, it required a great amount of trust. Assuming everyone cooperated, assuming people were truthful in what they wrote, assuming people wouldn't use this distribution system to try tricking one another, assuming information wasn't stolen entirely, assuming people could follow through with schedules and promises, assuming people here were decent and good-hearted enough to want to do what they could to do something for the common good of everyone here... then it would work flawlessly. Klavier wasn't nearly optimistic enough to assume that was the case.

He chuckled a little. "You certainly weren't kidding when you said it would take a good amount of work. And it is a bit of a leap of faith regarding the club leaders and those handling the notebooks. ...But if we can make it work, the benefits would be immeasurable. It's certainly well worth the effort." He carefully nodded once, as though still mulling it over. "I'll gladly help you in any way possible. If you're asking I only help pass the message along to other clubs for now, that I can most certainly do. ...However, I have one issue with your plan.

"You're planning to involve every single organized group here, ja? Including the History Club, I assume?" The smile had faded a little by this point and was only really there for the sake of it. "...I think they're more likely to hinder collective efforts than help. They care only for their own interests. Nothing more. And to be frank," he shook his head slightly as though exasperated by the thought, "...I don't think their trustworthy."

It was hard not to laugh at the understatement. Homura was a killer as was Julian, most likely. Saying he didn't trust them was like saying dangling a baby over a meat grinder was kind of a bad idea. He had no idea if the rest of the group was as bad or if they were only manipulated patients, but the case remained that they would prove troublesome.

"Anyone would be 'off' if they'd been sedated." Mello chuckled, trying to pass the incident off. He believed it had been the beginning of his real troubles here, a major contributing factor to his not having been able to fight harder the night they took him upstairs. No matter how many people told him no one had managed to escape once they were chosen, he remained convinced that there had been a way he'd failed to find.

He took a bite of his pancakes. "I'm working on a plan for getting people set up with decent gear. You'll understand if I don't share the details just yet." The Institute going haywire had actually derailed that plan, for all that Mello had ended up with useful things he hadn't anticipated getting his hands on. It made him feel better just knowing his gun was hidden in his room, even as it reminded him that the chances of finding the people he'd earmarked his two bullets for were vanishingly slim. And the chances of his plan working were negligible at best, he knew damn well, and what was more, felt in his gut with the weight of certainty, as if he'd swallowed a stone. No one would follow a leader who lacked faith in his own leadership. It had been as unthinking as breathing, once, believing that anything he tried would work. Now it took a constant effort to remind himself that he'd earned the right to believe that, and faking it on the outside was still the best that got him.

That little bit of interaction told Cloud a decent amount about the man in front of him, at least enough to help dictate the way he continued talking with him. No physical contact, though he hadn't planned on, say, patting the guy on the shoulder any time soon. The fact that he'd most likely just been manhandled by the staff didn't help, but Cloud suspected he was just a more private, 'don't touch' kind of guy in general. Only giving his first name didn't help change that image either.

But it looked like he didn't want to sit there and say nothing, so the blond gave a wry smile at the question. "Depends on what you mean by long. I've only been here a few days." Less than a week, he believed, while others had been there far longer. He didn't like being reminded that Yuffie had been there two weeks before he'd even arrived and he hadn't even known.

"A couple people I knew were here before me."

"Something like that." He led them the rest of the way to the table, gesturing for the boy to sit across from him. At least he was an obedient child. The cutes ones were always the most easily spoiled.

But what to do about this little situation? This place seemed almost hell-bent on making his life...complicated. He picked up his utensils and began cutting into his omelet with absent precision.

"I woke up here last night," He continued neutrally. "The last place I worked was Shion University. Are you sure you don't remember me from somewhere else?"

"What do they have, some sort of fetish for making robots into humans?"

Well. She'd been on the internet. She knew if it existed, there was someone, somewhere, with a fetish for it.

"I think we might be in a virtual-reality simulation of an insane asylum. It can't really be the time it's pretending to be. To get us all here, they've used time travel, kinds of surgery that don't even exist yet for me, and who knows what else. Who the hell are these people?"

She banged on the table, then realized she was chewing out a teenager who wasn't even in his right form, and probably had no more clue than Leela herself. She took a bite of granola, decorously calmly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

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Page 16 of 26

Day 50: Cafeteria (Brunch)

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