Day 50: Cafeteria (Brunch)

[selfrescuer.livejournal.com]

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]

Comments

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

Sechs woke up slowly and reluctantly in a miserable mix of hot and cold, pain and sweat. Groaning, he found himself buried under two thick layers of blankets again, yet despite the extra coverings, his back stayed cool compared to the rest of his smothered body. After a minute of more begrudged grumbling and struggling with the mess of blankets, he managed to drag himself out of bed. Yet as soon as he had freed himself from the heavy covers, the sweat that drenched his skin seemed to suck in the cold air of the room, sending Sechs on a roller coaster of temperatures. Shivering (and swearing) furiously, Sechs struggled to pull his soaked clothes off.

Dammit, what was that drug doing to him? He hated feeling so tangled up in that sick sweat! And it didn't help that a friendly (but very squeamish) nurse walked into his room in the midst of his unclothed state. After a lot of admonishment from the nurse and her "encouragement" to get Sechs into a fresh new uniform, the redressed Replica was lead out of his room by the usual pair of bulky orderlies and his (still blushing) nurse. Sechs could only growl quietly under his breath at his unwanted company. Was that the best the staff here could do? Deny the torture he had been put through, give him extra blankets to sleep in and throw needles at him when he didn't go quietly?!

Once they had left the patient hallways and entered the sun room, Sechs' eyes stung from the bright afternoon sun that gleamed through the windows. Wasn't it supposed to be morning now? "Crap... How long did I sleep in?" Sechs groggily asked, rubbing at his sore eyes with a fist.

"Just for the morning, Cody," his nurse answered, "You weren't feeling so well last night and needed more sleep--"

"Heh, I sure as hell wasn't feeling 'well' last night!" Sechs scoffed, sending a glare at the two orderlies who flanked him.

The nurse went on as though determined to ignore her patient's comment. "Yesterday's weather has gotten a lot of patients feeling a bit ill, I'm afraid. Today should be much better though! Now go and get yourself something to eat, I'm sure you'll feel better then!"

Anxious to get away from the nurse and fill up his painfully empty and loudly growling stomach, Sechs took little time to barge his way into the buffet (while shoving people away in his wake) and grabbed every meat-related meal he could get. By the time he had nestled himself down with his pile of food into a solitary corner, Sechs was already ravaging up a hapless burger with beastly gusto and a brooding glare in his eyes. His body's need to feed was on autopilot while his brain grounded away over last night's events.

So last night was just another stupid game Landel brewed up for everyone. Figures... Thinking over that bastard's pompous announcement before the night ended left a bitter taste that no amount of burgers and hot dogs could erase. But the night wasn't a complete waste though. Not only had he learned valuable knowledge of the institute's basement, but he also gained a better understanding of his ally, Forte. It was too bad that it was such a painful one though... All it did was feed into his already enormous hatred of the place.

[spandexorgtfo.livejournal.com]

[hope you don't mind~]

Kratos had crashed almost as soon as they had reached the institute. This wasn't exactly a new and unfamiliar experience; he'd had episodes of fatigue before, and so far had chalked them up to his body trying to regain all of the lost hours of sleep it had sustained over four thousand years. At least, that was hopefully the cause.

It was difficult to decipher what exactly had gone on during the time where he'd been out cold, though, and in the end, Kratos hadn't bothered with the bulletin board at all and let his nurse prod him toward the cafeteria where a meal would presumably shake the last of the tiredness from his system.

Kratos took more food than usual and wandered through the cafe in search of an open seat. Knowing that he couldn't be too picky, he slid into the nearest one, which unfortunately happened to be next to a rather angry-looking young man. But then, everyone was young in Kratos's eyes.

"Good morning," he said tentatively. It was still morning, wasn't it?

[loyal-soldier.livejournal.com]

Despite the fact that food had never failed to be available at the scheduled times it was supposed to here, 622 was finding it harder than usual to shake the feeling that he should be stocking up, in case they didn't give him anymore. It felt admittedly pointless by now, especially given how he had been thinking this morning, but...

Regardless of his paranoia (which he hoped was all it was), his metabolism was still fast, and he needed enough food to support it. He piled his food onto a tray and sat down at the nearest available table, digging in.

[For Taura!]

[ninelivesonce]

A busy night, what was effectively a second night's sleep, and an hour or so of measuring the Sun Room with long strides all meant that by the time the cafeteria doors opened, Taura was ravenous.  Not   starving -- she knew what starving felt like.  It was a big point in this place's favor, as prisons went.

She stacked a tray with some of almost everything.  (Who ate soy protein by  choice?  That was reserved for rat bars that needed to be so vile that the soldiers didn't eat them  before it was an emergency.). Then she found a friendly face in the crowd and dropped her loaded  tray down across from him with a light thunk.  

"Howdy, TK.  How's life treating you?"  

[notachick.livejournal.com]

[For Kaito~]

Having that little bit of a buffer between the night and his inevitable scolding to come was nice. Zack was a kind man even if Okita hadn't been able to get a lot of information out of him. That people had been able to go home at all was something of a shock, and it made Okita's blood run cold. Martin Landel was toying with them all like rats in a maze, like the politicians sometimes did with the lower samurai and the ronin. It was annoying, but it wasn't anything Okita was unaccustomed to dealing with. His family may have been samurai, but they were weak in the order and had been poor forever. He knew how the higher ups could be, and he'd learned to deal with them by simply ignoring them. He could ignore Martin's little attempts at cracking him, too.

Or he could try to.

Thankfully, brunch brought an easy distraction from his thoughts and Okita piled his plate with pancakes and sweet syrup, fruit and anything else that looked sweet. For a brief and painful moment, he entertained the thought of what Ayumu would say when she saw his plate, but he was interrupted by his nurse sighing at him.

"Julian, really. That can't be good for you," she said, shaking her head. "Take some--"

"Tofu," Okita interrupted, holding up a small bowl filled with white cubes. He set it down on his tray and then indicated the other bowl of edamame that sat next to it. He also had a little muffin that was apparently filled with "banana nuts" whatever banana nuts were. "Tofu is good for me."

In more ways than one, but the nurse still refused to believe him. She picked up a bowl and filled it with something called 'granola' and gave it to him, along with a glass of milk. "Eat it, Julian. I'll be watching to make sure you don't go dumping it on someone else."

He gave his nurse a long-suffering look, but she was immune and lead him to an open table, seating him so she could watch him from afar. Okita didn't like having his back to the door, but he had little choice in the matter because as soon as he tried to move, his nurse was coming over to reseat him. Eventually, the swordsman gave up and plopped into his seat, picking at the granola for a moment before he went right into the pancakes. They were soaked through and through with syrup and butter and oooooh did they smell good. They tasted even better and Okita ignored his healthy options for once in favor of the Western foods.

[flashyaudacity]

Spending the morning with Yukari and Yuffie had been really enjoyable. He didn't get to show off his magic much since coming here, and that was something he felt he should rectify. At the very least, he could do card magic like he had for Yukari, or maybe make some more props like the paper flowers...

And then there was the entirely different matter of Kid's magic.

It seemed like Hattori wasn't too bothered by Kudou's accusations, but that may have only been because of the unfortunate distraction provided by Sen's death. Sooner or later, it was going to come up again, whether it was in meeting Kudou one-on-one or Kudou bringing it up to Hattori. As nice as it was to try avoiding the subject with the detectives entirely, he needed to be prepared for that eventuality.

If he were at home, he could have talked to Jii about everything (and probably give the old man a heart attack in the process), but he wasn't at home.

Mulling over what his next move should be, Kaito helped himself to a bowl of soup and a slice of pizza for brunch before looking around to find a place to sit. He spotted Okita; the man was the closest thing Kid had to an ally here, and although he was dreading telling him about what had happened the other night... He needed to.

Putting on a smile, he walked towards where Okita sat. "Are you waiting for someone, or may I join you?"

[nobleman]

Worried as he was about Claude, Guy knew that his friend wouldn't much appreciate it if he tried to stick around and hover over his shoulder all day. The nurses seemed to be very attentive when it came to helping him get around, even if they weren't admitting to what had actually caused it. Guy just hoped that Claude kept his temper in check around them, since the last thing he needed at this point was a sedative.

As he headed down the stairs from the chapel and then toward the cafeteria, Guy couldn't help wondering if this meant he would eventually be booked for some time on the examination table. He'd now had two very close friends go through the process, even if Luke didn't remember it (and it seemed that the effects were gone, too -- or so he hoped).

Part of him wanted to think that he was off the hook after coming back from the dead, but he knew better than to expect that much. He did have to admit that he'd become somewhat complacent, in that he'd just assumed he'd been passed over. Now that Claude, who had been around here for a similar amount of time, had suddenly been seized for experiments, the possibility of the same thing happening to him seemed far more likely.

That was enough of worrying about himself, though. Mainly, he just wanted to do what he could to make sure that Claude was okay. Unfortunately, checking in on him over the bulletin was more or less out of the question for the moment. He could try to find a healer for his friend if it came to that, though. Still, there was no reason to jump the gun, and so he'd have to just wait it out for now.

Guy went on auto-pilot for long enough to grab himself a plate of food (he decided to go with the healthier choices) and then find himself an empty place to sit. He figured he was too distracted to seek someone out right at that moment.

[Free!]

So, so late to brunch orz

[hajike-tobiume.livejournal.com]

Momo had taken her time in the chapel, just wanting some time to think without the constant questions of that man, as long as she was allowed. Because of this, she was late to brunch, but that was okay. The shinigami didn't eat much these days, but at least she was eating. A tray with a cup of fruit and a bowl of cereal was all Momo had with her when she chose one of the few empty seats left.

"Is this alright?" she asked the man across from her?

[vstheworld]

Scott half-expected the door from the Sun Room to the Cafeteria to dump him off in a closet or a doctor's office or a lake, even to the point where he squinted his eyes shut and prepared himself for that inevitable wave of nausea. The human body being the marvelous thing that it is, Scott easily managed to convince himself that he actually felt the nausea, too. But no, there was the Cafeteria, right where it was supposed to be. Unless he had gotten a portal that happened to warp him to exactly where he needed to be, that sort of thing was all over. For now, anyway.

Still feeling a little sick to his stomach both from his expectations and from being slumped over on the couch for the whole previous shift, Scott didn't take much for brunch. He grabbed a burger and a slice of pizza without thinking much about what was on them. It wasn't until he found an empty seat that he realized the pizza he had grabbed was full of gross little anchovies. Scott made a face. He wasn't going to eat that. Yeuck. But did he really, really want to get up, go all the way back over to the food line, swap out his pizza, then come all the way back here (without a guarantee that the seat would still be free) when he still had a perfectly good cheeseburger in front of him?

Scott pushed the pizza plate aside purposefully and started nomming on his burger. "Fshupid anschofies."

[Free Scott Pilgrim!]

[idontregret.livejournal.com]

Heat hated the smell of the cafeteria. He hated it even more when he hadn't had a decent meal in a couple of days. The demon was starving and surrounded by food that could fill the stomachs of every patient in this facility and then some - all of which would do nothing for him. And despite his attitude about it in the past, the nurses still insisted on trying to get him to eat every now and then.

He didn't even feel like arguing about it today, and he let the nurse pick items to toss on his plate at random. Every so often the woman would glance back at him uncomfortably, which might have had something to do with the way he was staring the exposed skin of her neck above the collar as though it was a tender, juicy steak.

None of the patients would miss a nurse, surely.

Without much of a preference for where he sat that morning, Heat allowed himself to be led wherever the nurse felt like. This meant he ended up sitting across from some kid that looked vaguely familiar, except that he couldn't place where he might have run into him before. Chances were he'd just seen him around the Institute.

He didn't feel like wishing anyone good morning, so the only greeting Scott received was having the demon's tray shoved in his direction.

[lawful_perfect]

Stifling a cough and the pesky urge to sneeze in front of the increasing crowd heading into the Cafeteria, von Karma mulled over what he had just witnessed on his way to the Sun Room a few minutes ago. Chief Prosecutor Skye... embracing her younger sister. The thought of any public display of affection, be it romantic or familial, made the older prosecutor frown in disapproval. Especially if it was initiated by his own superior. He would make sure to speak to her about refraining from such nonsense, as it detracted from her professional image.

von Karma stopped to glance at the bulletin board. Hmm. So the staff were giving their prisoners the opportunity to register "suggestions," were they? He certainly had a number of his own, whether or not the blasted administration cared to take them into consideration. The prosecutor took a small stack of the slips of paper, intending to use every single one of them before the end of the week.

Why, just looking around the Sun Room, he could already see one simple source of improvement right away: get rid of the damned cats that were running around loose in here and curled up on the otherwise available seating. He thought at first he heard a familiar booming voice coming from across the room, but as he looked in the direction from which it had come, all he saw from his vantage point was a large puff of shaggy gray and white fur perched on the top of the couch. He shook his head, his scowl deepening.

Though the Cafeteria was already crowded by now, the aging prosecutor was able to find an empty seat at the end of one of the tables, far away from the other patients. It was just as well; he didn't want anyone to see that he had been fighting off the cold he had caught during yesterday's excursion. The long night of rest had helped avert it, but he was still experiencing lingering symptoms. He ordered his nurse to bring him a bowl of soup and a cup of hot tea (never mind that it was that decaffeinated sludge; the steam itself would expedite the recovery), then proceeded to fill out one of the suggestions slips while he waited for her to return.

[Closed to Dear Daughter]

[iwhipthefool.livejournal.com]

Franziska woke up sputtering in a fury, but was rather surprised to find herself nice and dry. Or rather, she would have been surprised if she'd been anywhere else and had experienced anything other than the previous night's events. As it was, she just felt her anger rise at the sight of her perfectly dry clothes and the feel of her perfectly dry hair. It was enough to make her sick. She'd been dropped into the middle of the freezing rain and there wasn't even any evidence to support what she'd gone through!

And then she was treated to the announcement that she'd had a light fever in the morning so they hadn't even woken her! These useless fools in this useless institute were trying to ruin her schedule!

It didn't take long for the nurse to fetch her and for Franziska to stalk into the cafeteria, looking like she was ready to commit a capital crime on the first person to try and pull any funny business on her. She was given a tray with the things she requested - granola, yogurt, some fruit and tea being a simple and healthy meal - and then proceeded to try and calm down as she searched for a seat. She needed her wits about her in this place and if her unnecessary punishment of Battler proved anything last night, it was that she was getting too hotheaded for her own good. She needed to think logically and crush her opponent, in this case, Martin Landel.

And one other, who she had the misfortune of laying her eyes on as soon as she crossed the room.

Manfred von Karma, current suspect in the attempted murder of one Miles Edgeworth, recently released. The evidence was building against him - two eyewitness accounts, identification by the victim himself, lack of an alibi for the night in question, and now the baseball bat. She had the things she needed to dust for prints and tonight, she'd do just that. The only problem was, Franziska wasn't sure she wanted to see the prints left on the handle of that baseball bat.

Walking up to her father, Franziska balanced the tray in one hand and curtsied politely as she always did when greeting her father. He had tea and some soup, but not much else which was a little concerning. "Papa, may I have the honor of joining you?"

[threepwood]

Guybrush stayed in the chapel a moment longer as Elaine walked away, taking a moment to think through the conversation with his tuckle-bear. She seemed okay about being turned into a statue- well, more okay than she had been last night before he realized she was from the past. She took the whole story about the Pox of LeChuck better than he'd thought she would, being from the past and all. The best part was when she admitted she was happy to see him. Those magical words made his brain shut down, his tongue not work, his heart flutter like a dozen vicious, fabric-eating moths flitting around a tacky jacket. It took him a few minutes to recover himself, plenty of time to wonder if fantasizing about Past Elaine constituted as cheating on Future Elaine.

Following the nurse downstairs, Guybrush wanted to go to the Sun Room next. Morgan was nowhere in sight by the time he left the chapel, so he figured she'd be hanging around the bulletin board, pinning up notices for her pirate-hunting business. If Stan could manage to make business cards while nailed in a coffin for a few months, surely Mo could make some promotional materials from within a fake asylum in the span of a few measly hours.

His nurse left him alone for a moment, giving him a look that warned him not to steal the cats. He didn't see the pirate hunter lounging anywhere in the room, so he decided he'd take a quick look at the board for himself. And what did he find? Libelous remarks! He borrowed a pen from a nearby nurse (not his; she wouldn't have loaned it to him for even a second) and furiously scratched at the note. What if Elaine saw those comments? They weren't true, but he couldn't take the chance she'd see something that could ruin the future of their relationship. His snuggle times depended on his name staying relatively clean.

Speaking of the future, he needed to find Morgan now. If she'd already said something to Elaine that made him look bad, he'd be treading in even hotter water. With no Mo in the Sun Room, he tried the cafeteria.

The room was already filling with people, so Guybrush grabbed some food quickly and took an empty seat where he could keep an eye on most of the other tables. From his vantage point, he could see Elaine talking to some other guy. A tinge of jealousy hit him, but he stifled it for now. At least she wasn't hobnobbing with LeChuck. Beardy jerk.

[Mo]

[fangirlfatale.livejournal.com]

God, was she ever ready to get out of here! This place was more boring than a pacifists' knitting circle. Being told what to do, where to go, how to dress--as if being stranded without her sword or ship wasn't enough to make her skin crawl, all that just added insult to injury. And Morgan LeFlay didn't deal well with insults.

At least she'd gotten something useful out of that talk in the chapel, even if she wasn't interested in sticking around long enough to cash in on the favor, she thought as she followed S.P. to the cafeteria like some pitiful lost puppy waiting to be kicked (ugh). Now just to get through the day, preferably without indulging any of the violent urges that threatened to come over her every time she noticed one of those jerks guarding the doors. And if she had a piece o' eight for every stupid smiley face in here, she'd probably be halfway to retirement.

Still feeling irritated and probably making it clear to the world at large, Morgan loaded herself a tray and looked around for somewhere to sit. The first familiar face she spotted was Elaine's--and wow, Statue Girl and her piratical paramour actually weren't joined at the hip now. She didn't see LeChuck around anywhere (maybe the creep had decided to take a long walk off a short plank, although it would depress her to think she'd lost her chance to kill him herself), but there was Guybrush sitting by himself.

Last night he'd seemed like they were on okay terms now. Maybe dying(?) had made him more willing to forgive and forget...well, everything. Morgan headed toward him.

"Nice hook," she commented once she got close, arching one eyebrow. She took the seat across from him without waiting to be asked. Even if he did turn out to still be upset, it wasn't like she was going to start being a wilting flower all of a sudden now.

[donetakinorders.livejournal.com]

Raphael woke up after what felt like a night packed with dreams of opening door after door after door, each time ending up in a different place, the locations steadily becoming more and more bizarre, but frustratingly never getting any closer to anywhere he recognised. The dreams were almost more exhausting than the actual night had been, one of those stupid days when you woke up wishing you could turn around and go right back to bed.

But that wouldn't help anything at all and he could just picture sensei's face if he could see Raph now, so the turtle dragged himself up and out for brunch. At least one thing in favour of today's weird set up was that sleeping in had only meant he missed wasting time in the Sun Room or the Chapel. Not much of a plus, but still.

Grabbing a tray, Raphael piled on some pizza, burgers, and fries before finding a seat and dumping the lot down on the table before all but flinging himself into the chair.

[for Edgar]

[girlsandgadgets]

Edgar paused after receiving his tray, taking a moment to scan the room. Despite knowing Celes wouldn't be amongst the patients scattered around the tables, he still looked for her, checking each blond head in the hopes it would belong to her. He was less concerned with having an ally within the institute than he was for her well-being. A part of him didn't want to believe her spirit could have been crushed by Landel; however, there wasn't a chance she was attacked and killed during the night: if what her roommate said was true, then he'd been the last to see her.

She had to have been "released" in the gap of time from the end of night to dawn, when the prisoners were presumably put to sleep with a spell and whisked to their respective rooms somehow. She had been a vague image of herself during that final conversation: what prompted her removal from the institute? Was it all an elaborate act on her part to keep him from worrying?

She was gone now, so her act hadn't worked, if that was what it had been. Her disappearance, the curious events of the previous night, and his conversation with Natalia only fueled his drive to find answers. Landel couldn't continue to get away with his transgressions; his defeat was likely the only chance anyone had of getting home. If Edgar expected to see Figaro again, something would have to be done.

The machinist sighed tiredly as he made his way toward an empty batch of seats. It seemed that Celes might not have been the only ally he'd lost: he'd seen neither Harley nor Yuna in some time. Given the primarily male population of the institution, it seemed Landel had something against the fairer sex. How unfortunate.

As he passed one of the tables, Edgar spotted a familiar face in the crowd: Raphael. His fiery nature undoubtedly kept his spirit afloat in spite of the pressures of institute- he was likely to be one who wouldn't give up so easily. It was a notion that brought a private comfort. He took the seat opposite of the younger man, setting the tray he'd been carrying in one hand on the table. "Raphael," he addressed in greeting, his tone darker than usual.

[vitale.livejournal.com]

Despite the fact that they had squabbled a bit, Bella was still in a somewhat good mood. After all, she knew that Edward was okay and that he wasn't too mad at her (she knew he still was, though, and their fighting just was making it closer to coming out.) and they were going to see each other that night. That was all that mattered.

The teenager sighed as she entered the cafeteria, once again not feeling very hungry. Brunch? Honestly, after all the blood from yesterday, she wasn't that hungry. At the moment her stomach was at just a neutral mute, so she didn't know if she should force herself to eat.

"Let's get you some food, hm, Kate? Look at you, such a tiny thing. You need some food in you!" the nurse at her side chirped, and so Bella was lead to the food line ...

... Where she picked up a bowl of cereal and milk, as well as a cup of orange juice. Her nurse sighed, shaking her head.

Once her nurse was gone, Bella moved over towards an empty table, stretching her arms over her head and yawning before reaching out to grab onto her cup of juice and take a sip of it. Maybe she could flag Claire down? She wanted to know how the girl was doing, since they had become quite lovely friends last night. It was only second nature to worry.

[autophoenix.livejournal.com]

Surprisingly, Claire had left her conversation with Peter in a miserable mood.

Not only was it nearly impossible to be happy about seeing him here, even if it was a familiar face, but all the things he'd told her only hammered home points that she'd been terrified about to begin with, or things she hadn't even considered. Her own personal boogeyman was there, and she'd had her memories ripped from her by Martin Landel. She wanted to strangle him. Or cry. It was hard to say which she was closer to.

As her nurse guided her into the cafeteria, she was trying her best to bottle it back up. To be strong, to appear impassive, to act like none of it had effected her. But being grown up and impervious to all of this was getting harder and harder. Kidnapping was one thing. Being a rat trapped in a maze was one thing. But, being stuck there with Sylar and knowing even Peter couldn't work a way out? The walls felt like they were closing in on her.

The nurse's voice jerked her from her thoughts -- she was directing Claire's attention to the food line. She went through, gradually noticing her excessive appetite the further in the line she got. Once she'd stacked her plate with waffles, scrambled eggs and juice, she turned to face the cafeteria.

There were so many people. Dozens more than there'd been the previous day, and she felt as overwhelmed as she'd been on her first day at Costa Verde High School. Crap. One more thing to push her closer to her impending emotional breakdown. Sucking in a deep breath, she began to seek out someone she knew -- her eyes scanned the room for Peter or Gren or Natalia even.

Better. Her eyes fixed on Bella and Claire beelined quickly. She couldn't help noticing that Bella was alone, and while Claire had kind of been expecting to see her with her fiance, she was grateful that she wasn't. Without a word, she took the seat across from her and began picking at her food for a minute before she actually managed to speak up.

"Hey," her voice was weak and while she'd managed to keep her expression from looking too distressed, she couldn't help the scratchiness in it that betrayed her feelings. "How are you feeling?"

[laguz-decoy.livejournal.com]

Tired and disgruntled, Ranulf slouched in his seat, staring with a half-lidded gaze at the variety of food he'd picked from the line in the mess hall. His left arm vertical, elbow placed on the table, he rested his head in his palm as he picked at his small stack of sausages with a fork, letting out a long, quiet sigh.

Three days. Three days he'd been stuck in this hellish infirmary. Although he'd been hysterical about the situation a few nights previous, he'd been able to suppress his pent up emotions, until now. It's what he'd been trained to do in Gallia. If you were caught by the enemy, you never panicked. You had to keep focused on the objective, be optimistic... and above all, keep your sanity. This of course was assuming he still was, indeed, sane.

The trip into town had really gotten to Ranulf, affirming that the world he resided in was clearly not his own. He hadn't wanted to believe it, hoping the situation was a strange trick concocted by the beorc. Deep in the back of his mind there had been hope. Hope Tsubaki and the others had been lying. Hope that he'd be going home soon. Ridiculous.

It had all hit him just before he'd fallen asleep, staring at the darkened ceiling of his room, a rush of thought, anger, confusion, washing over him like a high tide. Not wanting to deal, he'd fallen asleep before the man on the "intercom" announced the nightfall and had been woken up by a very business-like Nurse Flo. Now he sat, fiddling with his "hamburger" and sausages, trying to sort through his own personal mess and debris.

Would he ever see King Caineghis again? Dash through the deep forests of Gallia? Poke fun at Ike's polite mannerisms or Lethe's constant annoyance of anything that lacked a tail? He didn't know, and unfortunately that fact caused him to droop a little further in his chair. Not bothering to correct his body language, he speared a sausage on his fork, nibbling carelessly on the end of it. He wasn't particularly hungry, but he hoped the chewing would distract his mind, if only momentarily, from the current situation.

[Free~ <3]

[foolishmessiah.livejournal.com]

Minato awoke to the voice of the Head Doctor speaking over the intercom. He blearily listened to the morning announcement, then buried his face in his pillow.

Last night... What in the world had happened last night? His mind whirled, filled with the returning images of the different sights and sounds. Institute rooms. A decayed version of a Doyleton shop. A golden room housing a talking sphinx.

A much more … exciting night than usual.

He slept through most of his first free shift in the Sun Room; staying active every night for the last week had started to wear on him, so it was nice not being ushered off to some activity he would not give his full attention. Unfortunately, napping in the Sun Room came with the consequence of attracting cat hair and catnappers; on more than one occasion, he awoke to find a cat slowly cutting off the circulation to his feet.

After giving the bulletin board a look over and spending some time reading the various notes, Minato followed his nurse off to the cafeteria for ‘brunch.’ He picked at the cat hair still sticking to his shirt, looking up and down the cafeteria in search for familiar faces. This was made mildly difficult when he had to balance his food tray, which he had stacked high with … well, a little bit of everything. Just like he had done last Sunday.

“Christian, why don’t you sit down here?” His nurse suggested a seat next to a young man who was both older and taller than Minato. He gave her a glance; he hadn’t done anything particularly exasperating already, had he? And here he had thought she had decided on calling him 'Chris.'

But with a shrug, he slid into the chair across from the young man, carefully arranging his silverware. “Hello,” he greeted, noticing his nurse walk away to chat with some of the other nurses.

[emotionl4arobot.livejournal.com]

Brainiac 5 followed after the nurse, actually surprisingly hungry by the time they reached the cafeteria. Or maybe it was simply a side effect of having been Coluan again the night before, and he was simply more aware of how sharp the hunger of his organic, human body was now. Either way, he couldn't complain that much about being led away from the Doctor and over to the line to wait patiently before collecting a tray and selecting his own meal. Not to mention his hunger and the largish meal that he selected might also appease the nurses for a change. Maybe now they'd stop trying to foist food on him.

Tofu, a plate of vegetables, and a glass of water was his choice for brunch, and Brainiac 5 made his way to an empty, out of the way table where he could keep an eye on the room at large more out of habit than any real concern. He wasn't sure how long the solitude would last, however. The nurses always seemed keen on breaking it one way or another. Still, it was better to make the most of it while he could, and he flipped open his notebook to jot a few more details down while he ate.

[For Jack!]

[prodigalson]

Edward's arms cradled his head on the cafeteria table, a tray pushed off to the side that was piled low with fruits and vegetables. His nurse, overly caring, was still standing by his shoulder, trying to urge him vainly to eat. She had caught on that food rarely, if ever, entered his mouth; he hadn't been careful enough with her watchful gaze. She seemed sincere, but Edward wasn't particularly good with reading human emotions through face and voice alone, so she could be lying as well.

"You need to eat," she said.

"I'm depressed," he sighed, blowing a strand of hair away from his eyes. Looking like a teenager sometimes had its perks, but they never outweighed the negatives. "I'm stuck in a crazy house and my brother's gone and probably equally as crazy. Can't you give me a break?"

The nurse sighed, but he thought it might have been a sound of pity. "He's been cured, Christopher. He worked hard with the staff here. You should be happy for him. I know he's cheering you on, knowing you'll be okay soon too."

Either she was brainwashed or she was lying, because Emmett and "working hard" didn't seem to mesh together in his brain well. Especially with humans in an asylum. He wasn't sure what to think - he knew his brother was too strong (or stubborn) to go along with their forced views of normality, and one didn't just imagine their brother tearing apart a bear with their teeth alone. It was somewhat calming to believe the portals had taken him somewhere else. Maybe he'd gone home. A home that was still filled with people. Maybe he'd taken the right portal and escaped.

Either way, if he was gone... well, Edward couldn't do much about it. He couldn't do much about anything. He couldn't even convince Bella to do one thing for him.

Teenage mood swings. You just have to love them, even a hundred years later.

"Look, I'll eat it later, okay?" This childlike, young voice he was forced to use around her was really grating on his nerves. His patience was near-endless, but being treated like a child always annoyed him easily. "I promise."

She pat his shoulder gently before saying, "Okay. I trust you," and leaving him be.

Was it too immature to want to throw a piece of cantaloupe at her? Rebellion came in such tiny forms during the day.

[For his black market dealer. >:[ ♥]

[anemptydecapo]

The talk with Nataku hadn't helped matters: last night was still following him, tainting his every thought. He almost didn't want to seek out Edward again, not after the man had seen him at his weakest. Especially not after seeing the man show exactly what he was and demonstrate it on-- ...even if it were only a fake. Even if he had wished death on it.

But they had business to attend to and so long as they did, he wasn't going to let up. Venom had spent the entire night pushing aside his want for answers to find that woman with the understanding that they would be able to continue on their mission once she was back in hand. Instead, her safety had replaced the mission entirely, regardless of the bumps in the road and mentally straining events that may have occurred.

He couldn't blame Edward. He wanted to, but he couldn't, not in good conscience. He had no room to be upset with anyone when it came to something like that. The most he could do was move on from that fact and hope the vampire's penchant for distraction wouldn't repeat this night, because Venom wasn't going to keep paying for a service he'd yet to receive. He wasn't going to blame him, but he wasn't any happier with him either. He was getting tired of this dance.

It looked like Edward was pouting on his lonesome, which the assassin had no qualms interrupting. Outwardly, he showed no signs of how tired he actually was, nor how upset. This wasn't the time for that. It would never be the time for that. "Did you find her?" If your problem is that you're hungry again, I will have no sympathy for you.

[rischiarare.livejournal.com]

Even if he had slept in late, Roxas wasted no time in jumping into a new set of clothing when he'd finally awoken, making sure when his nurse's back was turned that his coat was tucked neatly into his closet. Apparently the trip back to his room had renewed his energy, because he felt a lot better than he had last night. While the sick feeling he'd had was probably from jumping all over the place, Roxas was still suspicious of being suddenly... drained. Especially considering it had happened immediately while using the Keyblade. This hadn't happened before, but... well, he'd never been trapped on a world before, either, or met his Other. This place was all about new experiences.

He'd seen Jim's note on the board on his way to the cafeteria (he'd intended to write one himself, but the other had beaten him to the punch), and the Nobody felt rather relieved that the man had made it to his room safely. (Roxas was also rather excited about the prospect of being friends with a captain who had a ship and a crew and... wait, was he supposed to call him captain too, or did his crew only do that?) The Enterprise was such a grand-sounding word; Roxas bet it was a big ship. Maybe Jim would tell him about it...

Of all the people to help out, he'd stumbled on some pretty nice guys (and they weren't even locals!). He'd just have to be more careful if he helped anyone else out, since now the Keyblades were... unstable. But at least he had some first aid in case he ever got hurt.

The only worrying thing was that Chekov hadn't answered Jim's note. They'd gotten separated, but surely the other boy had gotten back to his room, right? He was probably just sleeping in. With that thought firmly in his mind, Roxas sat with his tray piled high rather contently, tasting and savoring all the different foods and flavors slowly, dividing them on his tray between "delicious" and "never touching again".

[numberii.livejournal.com]

He had to say, Xigbar loved his brunch shifts. Breakfast had some strong points, and lunch had some strong points... but putting them together pretty much rocked twice as hard. There was nothing quite as good as cheese, egg, and sausage burritos, or cheesey dogs, or cheese pizza... heck, pretty much anything was better with a little extra meat and cheese. Which meant that this shift, Xigbar was going to enjoy his meal as fully as he pleased.

But eating alone? That just wasn't going to fly. The Nobody let his one eye sweep across the assembled patients, rejecting groups and people he didn't know and didn't care to talk with. But then, it seemed like luck was on his side. Who was sitting off on his own with a content little grin but Roxas? Number Thirteen himself! And the kid seemed oddly relaxed given the situation. Almost like he didn't have anything at all to worry about.

Well that just wasn't allowed! Xigbar promptly made a beeline for Roxas, plopping down in the seat opposite the younger Nobody and grinning at him. "Yo," he announced himself with a wave, "haven't seen you around for awhile, dude. What's the word?"

[bprd-fishman.livejournal.com]

That had been a thoroughly pointless experience. At least the other activities had points to them, for therapy or creativity or exercise, that was just...sitting. Abe had never personally been to a religious service that hadn't ended in cannibalism or attempting to summon something to end the world. The barest edges of religion, left apathetic and alone, and delaying breakfast at that.

Oh, well. At least there were more vegetables. Abe sat alone at his table and idly nibbled, staring out across the crowded cafeteria and pondering his next movie. Visitors, hm?

[Free!]

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

On her way to check the bulletin for the schedule thing Honey had told her about, Mele was intercepted by the nurse and told to go to the Cafeteria. Since the nurse was always lenient before whenever she'd wanted to look at something or go back to get something from the bedroom, Mele continued looking at the bulletin.

Until the nurse grabbed her arm. "What?" Mele snapped, pulling her arm away. "It's—" Mele cut herself off as they got into a staring contest, which Mele only lost because her headache was beginning to come back. Really.

Must be grumpy today, she thought irritably as she walked ahead of the nurse. In the cafeteria, she grabbed some pancakes and a pile of fruit, then sat down anywhere and watched the nurse for a moment. "Damn nurses," she grumbled absently.

[gamingsostfu.livejournal.com]

One moment, he was walking into that godawful excuse for a game room; the next, he was opening his eyes - well, one, really, since it seemed that any and all injuries sustained overnight remained, which was both annoying and surprising. The entire place so far had struck Matt like a video game, and he was expecting a reset once morning dawned.

Sitting up in the bed, he groaned when he realized that he really was stuck at Landel's. The cycle was apparently beginning again, and his patience dropped drastically as he thought of exactly what that entailed: more bustling around, more degradation, more obnoxiously cheery nurses. And no smokes.

He couldn't do it again. No, Matt needed to get the hell out.

He got up and rummaged through his side of the room quickly, noting that Claude was still gone; would the guy ever be back? Or had they done something to him? He couldn't be sure right now; instead of dwelling on it, he dug underneath the mattress - where he found both the flashlight and his crowbar. Grinning, he grabbed the makeshift weapon and held it tightly in his hand, walking over to the desk and opening the drawer. Hissing, he slammed it shut, cursing under his breath at the lack of pills; they must still be with Mello. Definitely not looking forward to that conversation, he thought, putting those stupid slippers on. He tightened his fingers around the length of the crowbar; Matt was going to leave this madhouse, and no one was going to stop him.

[damned-nurses.livejournal.com]

The door opened to allow one of the institute's many nurses, her face a bright, cheery smile that quickly faded when she saw the makeshift weapon in the patient's hands.

"Marcus, where did you get that?" she asked carefully, remaining close to the door and keeping her voice and actions carefully calm and slow.

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

McCoy wasn't certain that man last shift was actually deranged, especially when you had patients like the Admiral and just about everyone else here. The doctor could see the bits of non-humanoid behavior poking through ZEX well enough, no matter how human he looked. He supposed that they could sound mad themselves to someone who had no knowledge of the Federation or even space travel: the idea that they could even achieve air travel could even sound crazy, nothing more than the stuff of dreams centuries ago. The man however, was something else. He just didn't sound like any artificial life form he'd ever encountered before. Machines didn't have likes or preferences. Unlike ZEX, McCoy found himself considering the possibility that there was likely a psychological matter involved instead of an actual bodily switch.

The doctor sat down at the closest table, glancing at the food before him before looking around. He didn't see any sign of the others yet. Jim and Spock had at least posted to the bulletin, and, at least Spock seemed to have shared the same "dream" as he had last night. There wasn't any asking to check notes with the man out in the open though; that was something that was just going to have to wait until they were face to face. Jim looked like he'd had the same experience with the transporter doors, and yet, he seemed surprised that they'd ended up completely off planet. McCoy found it odd that the institute allowed them to see the Enterprise and not the captain.

Was it just that, chance, or something more deliberate?

[mateswithnobody.livejournal.com]

So the night had been terrible, and maybe Donna hadn't been the best of sports when it had come to sitting through a chapel service, but she could not say there weren't some perks by brunch time. For one, she knew that Ludwig was all right, or at least well enough to write on the bulletin to say that he was. The second was that she didn't have to suffer through only one kind of food for brunch. Not that all of it looked edible for her.

Grabbing some of the soup, the red-head made her way for a close table, ready for food before finding someone she might've known. When she did take a moment to look up though, she realized that there was already someone there. "Oh. Sorry, hope you don't mind me sitting here?" she said, pointing to the table. She didn't plan on moving really, but best to at least try to be polite.

[bodhiandspirit.livejournal.com]

Rita left the Sun Room with a somewhat better understanding of what this place really was. Unfortunately, the more answers she got, the more questions she found emerging in her mind. There hadn't been nearly enough time to ask all of them - no, maybe a full day wouldn't even be enough time even if that boy had all the answers, which he probably didn't.

For now, she was just going to have to deal with what limited information she had. She now understood enough to see through most of the coded messages on the bulletin board, and so Rita spent a few minutes going over the many notes posted there. She discovered one reply to the note she had posted earlier that day. It wasn't a friend, nor was it anyone who knew of her world, but a complete stranger, wishing her luck and telling her to hold on to hope.

"...Hmph," was all Rita said to that, as if the author would somehow hear it. She thought of replying, but she didn't really have any words for the stranger. On the one hand, that 'Natalia' didn't even know what Rita had been asking or why, and was ignorantly sticking her nose into something that was none of her business.

On the other, Rita's situation was reaching the point where it wasn't so bad, maybe, to hear that she wasn't alone.

But she wasn't going to admit that to anyone.

When she was ushered into the Cafeteria and over to the buffet table, Rita gave the array of food a passive look as she decided on her brunch. The selection was admittedly impressive, though Rita did her best to look unimpressed by it. In the end, she took a few pancakes and piled a variety of fruit on top of them.

Fortunately, it didn't look like her nurse was going to nag her into approaching another stranger right now, so Rita took this chance to find herself a seat alone and out of the way, where she could be alone with her thoughts for a little while. She set her journal down next to her tray, and soon began to work on wearing down the hill of fruit she'd amassed on her plate.

[per-ardua.livejournal.com]

Visitors again... Raine wondered what it would be like to see her supposed family again, now that she knew more about "Jeanne". I suppose I'll find out soon... they seem to be better than most here about showing up at least once in a while.

Pondering that kept her occupied while she automatically got something to eat (a hot dog topped with maple syrup and vegetable soup with cereal stirred in), but once she sat down she took out her journal and flipped to a page where she was trying to draw a sketch of Sheena's usual summoning glyph. She had a very good visual memory, but she never got very good looks at the ninja's arrays during battle for obvious reasons, and pestering her to use her summons for research didn't tend to go over very well.

It was a long shot, but she was trying to think of ways to enhance what little of their magic was left to them, and a focus like a glyph or an array made the most sense. Summoning required opening a portal, as was made clear by Sheena being able to summon Yukari, and "Jeanne" had tried to open a portal herself. There had to be a way to do it, and the supposedly unsuccessful spells her counterpart had tried just might be the key to getting out of here.

[sdatislife.livejournal.com]

Shinji stared dully at his plate. He wasn't hungry. He didn't think he eat for a while. Maybe then they would let him sleep more. Maybe if he didn't do anything they'd finally understand how very wrong everything was. He still replayed memories of last night - Kaworu rising through the air, glowing. Asuka yelling. Rei's calm demeanor as she matter-of-factly powered up her Eva. He didn't want to remember it. He wished it had never happened. He could've kept pretending that everything was alright. Of course, he had never expected much else. He would always be hurt by those around him, no matter how much they meant to him, no matter how much he meant to them, no matter if they said they loved him or not, there would be pain.

He just wanted to sleep. He wanted the world of Tokyo-3 to be a miserable dream. Maybe then he could leave. Maybe he could go back to a normal family and people that loved him and he would never have to see the hulking form of an Eva Unit ever again. Maybe if he gave up, things would just be better. Shinji was shutting down, slowly but surely. A nurse had had to gently steer him away from the sun room this morning - he'd barely noticed others leaving for the meal. So now he just stared at the full tray that had been forced on him.

None of it mattered. The nurses didn't understand.

_{[Open! One only please.]}

[cannotlogout.livejournal.com]

It wasn't that he minded the food on offer. It was really good to be honest, better than you'd expect from a hospital at least (and he knew all about that), but he found himself craving something a little more homely. Miso or rice would be great, and some tea as well. Anything like that would be a nice change, since all of the food was so Western nearly all of the time. He'd have to suggest it on the bulletin.

He put some pancakes and a waffle onto one plate, and some meat onto another before he headed off into the rapidly filling cafeteria. He spotted Haseo as he sat down, looking slightly irritated at something the nurse had said, and there were a lot of new faces here. He grimaced at the thought that he might be considered a veteran by now. That was a thoroughly depressing thought.

He wavered for a moment before spotting a boy a little younger than him sitting on his own. And there were free seats nearby. He walked over, smiling shyly. "Um, do you mind if I sit here?"

[feartehreaper.livejournal.com]

"Remember to eat all of that, Kai!"

Haseo suppressed a groan as he walked his tray of 'brunch'-style food to a table, very little subtlety in his attempted escape from that woman who seemed so set on making his life just that much more intolerable. The nurse staff seemed to have an almost awe-inspiring ability to make him want to do the exact opposite of whatever they asked, and it was not helping him out.

The Adept Rogue knew he had to be hungry, but with both little and big irritations building up and his anxiety rising due to the mention of 'visitors' again, it was hard to muster up the will to shove food down his throat at all. Regardless, he made himself sit at an empty place, and trying to just focus on doing that one little task, listlessly picked up half a hamburger. He was really, really tired of the whole act... but what was he supposed to do?

[ Claude-de-de-de. ]

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Even though his conversation with Guy had been cut short, Claude found that his thoughts were a little more grounded than when he'd first woken up. Maybe it was the way Guy managed to stay so level-headed about everything, or the feeling of normalcy he found in conversations with him. Well, whatever the case, it made it a little easier to keep his mind from racing as much, even if a thick knot of anxiety still lingered in the pit of his stomach.

As much as Claude couldn't stomach the thought of eating anything, the nurse was insistent that he get something. "You've got to start the day off right, Thomas," she told him as she led him into the cafeteria. Her tone almost had a motherly quality to it, which made it hard to get angry at her. Still, he'd just as soon be left alone when he had a sick stomach. The swell of different conversations that filled the room didn't exactly do much to help in that department. Neither did all the sweet breakfast smells that lingered near the line, for that matter.

Ignoring his hoarse protests, she put together a plate for him that he could only imagine contained an assortment of food for him to nibble on. Though he felt bad that he'd probably just wind up wasting it, he finally relented and accepted the tray with a tight, polite smile. At least she'd set down a small cup of medication for him to take along with the food, so it wasn't all bad, he guessed. Any relief for his eyes was more than welcome by this point.

"Now, let's find somewhere for you to sit," she said as she gently guided him through the cafeteria. After a few moments she seemed to spot someone and suddenly turned him into a different direction. "Why don't you sit with this gentleman here? He looks like he could use some company." Claude could hear the smile in her voice as she sat him down in a chair, presumably across from someone. "Enjoy your meal, you two!"

And with that, her footsteps faded away and were soon obscured by the voices that came from neighboring tables. Being plopped down next to someone whose face he couldn't even see was awkward, to say the least. As much as Claude didn't feel like chatting with random people, though, he couldn't stand for uncomfortable silences to go on too long. "Uh, hi," he greeted after a moment, uncertain of where, exactly, his brunch companion was sitting.

[36-24-35.livejournal.com]

"Let's get you something to eat, Rachel, I'm sure you're hungry..."

"Starving..." She commented with unusual moroseness. It could have been from the hunger or the pain or, hell, she just wanted one day where she could be a little moody. Tifa was owed.

"Oh dear..." There was little true concern in her words, as if she were used to patients being childish over the most mundane things. Oh well, they were technically the enemy, no need to feel guilty for being catty. She convinced the nurse she was more than able to pick out her own food, a broken nose wasn't the end of the world. Thankfully there was plenty of soft foods for her to munch on without hurting herself. Loading her plate with fruits and two soft muffins. And two sausages links, you know, for protein. Her drink of choice was a nice tart glass of orange juice that she stacked on her tray and found a quiet spot to sit and eat, ignoring the few bug eyes she received from other patients.

"........." Well, it was fine going in, but chewing was a bit tough. Who knew the nose connected to every other fucking thing in the body, goddamn. Tifa went for the grapes next, small enough to just swallow whole.

[For the leel burly bear~]

[noifsandsorbubs.livejournal.com]

Night felt like it was years away. Now that Logan was getting used to the place, he realized the days were all going to be like this: just planning and filler, and planning didn't take that long. If anything mattered, it was nights. He knew where he was going and who he was going with; there didn't seem to be much else to do except maybe compare notes with Kurt and Peter.

Except there was, and occurred to him when he spotted Tifa with her conspicuously broken nose. He had her pry bar, and he was strongly considering not giving it to her for another night. That deserved an explanation - although with what he'd seen her do, he wasn't sure she really needed it.

He set his tray across from hers and sat down. "Looks good," he said, propping his elbows on the table. It didn't, but she had to have had enough sympathy by now. Besides, it was physical evidence that she'd survived an incredibly twisted night, and that counted for something.

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

How on earth did humans cope with getting ill all the time? England had had colds before, but he'd known what to do about them then! Normally when he had a cold, he stormed through the Palace of Westminster terrifying politicians until someone got their act together and did something to improve his economy! But this? This helplessness in the face of it? He hated it, really and truly. He couldn't do anything about it and it was worse, so much worse, if he believed America's suggestion that he was actually ill with some horrific little virus worming through his internal systems and disrupting them until he felt like death warmed over. And there was nothing that he could do about it.

The nurse refused his pleas to just pass over the whole packet of painkillers, telling him that he'd have to wait for a few hours before he could take any more, but oh, wouldn't a nice breakfast make him feel better. And so she filled up his plate with a nice breakfast of sausage and pancakes for some reason, and led him over to a nice table and told him to be nice to people and make friends.

They didn't even have tea. How could it be a nice breakfast without tea?

[Free!]

[wantsyourzex.livejournal.com]

ZEX wasn't sure if last night had just been another fevered dream. His Captain, alive... there was no sense to it. He'd watched his Captain die before on their last trip to Doyleton, and yet... he was alive, with no memory of anything.

He didn't trust the Creator enough to believe it. His Captain was dead; he'd accepted that, and he wasn't about to get his hopes up over another impossibility simply because it was kinder than the others. No doubt the new Captain was gone, just another trick of the mind. This place was getting so tiresome.

He needed a distraction, something to get his mind off of the matter. Finding a human to sexually harass usually did the trick, and one in particular caught his remaining eye. Interesting pattern of facial hair above the eyes... worth investigating, if nothing else.

ZEX sat down beside him without asking. "Hello, human." With a weak attempt at a smile. "I don't believe I've seen you here before."

[boyking]

That conversation with Dean just now wasn't the conversation Sam had been preparing for when he'd woken up this morning. But maybe that was good. He'd dodged any questions about Peter or the demon and that whole trip "home" and while he was pretty sure that wasn't the end of it—Dean was no doubt going to ask when he wasn't so distracted by his own whacky situation—at least he'd avoided it for now.

Man, it was way too early to deal with this crap.

He should probably try to find Ruby today, too, shouldn't he? Tell her about what happened, let her know about the knife. See if she had any similar crazy experiences last night. Or, you know, if she'd encountered any robots and time machines, as well.

But not at the moment. He wasn't in any rush to talk to her, and if she needed him, she knew where he was. He still wasn't sure how he felt about Ruby being here in such close proximity with Dean—it was just weird. They were the two parts of his life he'd never intended to collide; Dean had been dead, after all, when he'd dropped pretty much everything that'd had to do with his old life. In a way, he'd always been kinda glad Ruby had hopped bodies. It made it easier to separate things.

Absently grabbing a plate of pancakes and some fruit, he made his way around some tables, trying to locate an unoccupied space. He'd stayed a little longer in the chapel after the initial wave of patients were herded out, which meant a good chunk of them had already found their seats. Dean was talking with a girl a couple of tables off. No surprises. Sam didn't interrupt, though he did cast his brother a glance as he slipped between two chairs with barely an inch of room to maneuver through. Jeez. Crowds and a tray of food didn't mix well.

He found an empty table before anything went flying, nestled between the wall and another wall. He wouldn't say no to some time to himself, but it felt useless, as well, not to be doing anything. There was only so much thinking that could happen before his thoughts began divebombing in a very bad and unproductive direction.

Like, say, now, for instance.

He frowned and speared a piece of bacon, severed the tail end with his knife.

[Team GQMF right here, bitches.]

[doneinthree]

Kirk was late getting to brunch, feeling neither hungry nor in desperate need of a scenery change when the Head Doctor's voice rang out for the second time this morning. Alright, fine, if he was being honest, he would've had to admit that the idea of going outside did sound pretty nice. Despite a half-dozen attempts last night, he hadn't had a single taste of fresh air since the field trip... or a taste of anything, at that.

It wasn't as if the food here was unpalateable (far from it, really), but he wasn't going to fall for it, okay? He'd felt himself slide that way a few days before — musing on the expert job they'd done at treating his wounds, feeling almost glad for the things they did get in here — and had reared up just in time realize the path of his thoughts. The last thing he would ever feel towards their captors was gratefulness. The last thing he would ever do was even come close to accepting this scenario.

But there was only so long he could rebel before the staff considered extreme measures, so Kirk headed into the cafeteria eventually, seeing most of the prisoner population already seated. His nurse went as far as loading up a tray and forcing it on him with the efficiency of a yeoman (not that he'd ever been served by a yeoman, so he wasn't sure where that mental image came from—) before sending him off.

It was a wonder he got through the crowd in one piece, what with his attention more on faces than on his own feet, but if Chekov was around, Kirk hadn't seen him. Which, he reminded himself, didn't mean anything. Spock and Bones answered the bulletin, but it had happened before that one of them hadn't noticed messages until almost the end of the day. Hell, a couple of times, that someone had been Jim.

Only after Kirk had plunked his tray down on an empty place did he bother looking at his meal for today: waffles, eggs, sausage, bacon, tater tots, and a glass of milk. Wow. "You know, my appetite's as healthy as any other human male, but even I have to wonder what all this food's doing to us."

Kirk glanced at the other guy seated with him, wasting a second to look over the build of those shoulders, and the length of the legs stretched out under the table.

"Well... obviously good things, in your case."

[tiny-chef.livejournal.com]

Remy balanced his journal under a tray of food as he went through the buffet line. As far as he knew, this style of serving, food kept warm under lights with steam trays... it wasn't great. Too industrial! The food was edible but tended to be indifferent, if the texture even survived the cooking.

However, he wanted to see what dishes the Institute could serve without screwing them up or leaving room for improvement, so he decided to treat the buffet like a tasting menu. This is what the chef has to offer, and he -- maybe she -- is doing his best, so I'll just try what I can and see what's decent. Most of the people here seem to be satisfied with the food... maybe it's just me? Or maybe they don't know good food when they get it. The idea that the food at Landel's might have been the best that some of the patients had ever had made him wrinkle his nose and shudder.

When he felt that he'd taken a good variety of morsels to sample (anything that smelled appealing, really), he made his way to a table. He set his tray down, and set the journal beside it, so that Meche would be able to write the alphabet letters in it for him if he saw her.

Spearing a sausage link with the tines of his fork, he lifted it to his mouth, then sniffed it before biting into it.

It wouldn't be too bad... if someone would just learn to lay off the sage.

[Meche and the Scarecrow!]

[scarefaux]

The Scarecrow was ready for the nurse when she entered the room, chirping about how he'd overslept and needed to make his way toward the cafeteria. He nodded complacently, so sure she'd somehow know to look in his pillowcase for that sole piece of evidence he'd actually been in Doyleton the night before. He had been surprised when the mystery box he'd been carrying all night somehow made it back to his room. He'd stolen a look at it just before the nurse knocked on the door- the image on the front was just as unsettling hours later, trepidation mingling with homesickness the more he thought about it.

Stacking his tray in his usual one-of-everything fashion, the strawman paused while looking for a place to sit. Who could he ask about the box? Who would know what it was and how his image appeared in absolute detail on the front of it? Surely someone like Sangamon or Abe would have some idea. While he didn't spot either of them on his initial glance of the room, he did spot someone else he knew.

"How do you do, Remy?" he asked, taking the seat across from his friend. "We sure lucked out last night. We really could have ended up somewhere dangerous. It's too bad we never did get to that kitchen, though."

[winged_moon]

It was always a shock to transition from night to day, but this time it was even more so-- perhaps because it was from day to day. Day in Tomoeda, no less, and here he was back in his little prison cell with only the phantom recollection of the wind through his feathers and the freedom of flight. And Touya by his side a corner of his mind added before he squashed the thought, hoping in vain that he could catch it before Yukito would notice.

For there his other self was once more, awake and aware and crammed in with uncomfortable (but oddly familiar and almost even welcome) closeness. Yukito gave only the impression of a fond smile and a soft, I missed you too, Yue-san: it seemed the boy was pleased that Yue and Touya had mended at least some of their differences. Yue grudgingly allowed that to be reasonable, as being stuck in between the two of them couldn't have been a comfortable situation, then quickly dismissed the thought and moved on.

As he started to sit up, however, the guardian suddenly froze in place as he realized: that was the unmistakable aura of a Sakura Card. And not just any card, one under his aspect. But... how? How could it be possible? And only one of them? Where were the rest?

The nurse entered then, and upon finding him sitting there frozen in place clucked her tongue and scolded him for "lazing about" and sleeping through the first shift. It was at that point that the realization sank through his confusion and abruptly snapped his attention away from the impossible presence of one of the Cards: it was visitor day. He'd escaped a visitor the week before, likely since his visitors were now likewise prisoners of this place, but there was no guarantee that would continue. The guardian subsided to brood over that, leaving his other self to deal with the cafeteria.

Yukito was only too pleased by that, after all. Sundays were visitor days, yes, but they also meant the pleasantly varied (and abundant) options for brunch, and if there was anything to look forward to in a place like this, that would be it. He happily piled food onto his tray until the nurse finally stepped in and told him that was enough, then wandered over to an empty table and started in on it. After Yue had decided to skip dinner the night before he was starving. Hopefully that wouldn't become a common thing....

[Touya~]

[guardiancomplex.livejournal.com]

[Lateass Touya. D|]

Touya awoke as though from a very vivid, very realistic dream--shocked at the sudden difference between the two environments. He'd been flying. Flying. And now he was in a bed in a place he'd left. Part of him was sorely disappointed, and another part of him had never believed it would last.

He got out of bed and started looking through his closet and desk and the dresser. Once he'd been through everything (and there wasn't much to go through, to be honest) he realized that the picture he'd put in his pocket wasn't there. Another wave of sadness drifted over him, and he shut the dresser drawer with a resigned, soft sigh.

His nurse came to get him for brunch, saying that it was good he'd slept in. Apparently he still looked tired to her recently, though Touya didn't feel any different. Besides the idea of being trapped weighing on him.

But he let the loss of the photograph and the loss of his false home leave him once he'd found Yuki. Touya set his food down next to Yuki's tray, and leaned down to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

"I thought I'd find you here," he joked, sitting down.

[divinebrushwork.livejournal.com]

Amaterasu frowned at the doodle she had left on the so-called 'bulletin board'. She had tried to draw Issun and a question mark, but it was hard for even her to tell. It was much sloppier than her usual drawings and greatly paled in comparison to some of the things she had painted before. The goddess felt that she was not to blame, however. Rather, her hands were at fault. They could not live up to the talent and artistic beauty her tail could create.

Unfortunately, Ammy did not get the chance to change the picture, for she was visited again by the woman that called herself a 'nurse'. Just as she had done earlier in the morning, the smiling woman ushered the former wolf out of the Sun Room and down another hallway. She spoke cheerfully of food again, but Amaterasu wasn't too keen on believing her. After being lied to before, she was unsure whether or not this woman was speaking even an ounce of truth.

. . . At least, until she was guided through the doors of a particularly large room.

The scent, oh Gods, the scent was unlike anything she had ever smelled before. It was a delicious aroma that made her stomach growl in yearning. If she were still a wolf, there was no doubt she would be drooling.

"I see you're hungry, Amari!" the nurse laughed, helping her over to the tables filled with food. "I believe your family mentioned you loved food. I'll help you with your tray, but you can tell me how much you think you can handle, alright?"

Those words were a grave mistake on her part. By the time Amaterasu had taken her seat at a nearby table, her tray was piled high with one of everything. She waited with great resistance until the nurse left her alone, then turned her attention to the food before her. Her concerns of 'appearing human' and 'staying normal' quickly vanished. As soon as she knew it was safe, Ammy's face plunged down and her mouth began to consume everything it could.

[Free~]

[mukuchi.livejournal.com]

Mori wasn't sure how he felt at the moment. After getting two offers on the bulletin for someone to teach him, excluding the one impossible offer, he had set in motion a solution to something he'd been worried about for awhile now. But at the same time, he knew he'd be upsetting Mitsukuni with what he was about to do. But this was for his sake, right? So it wasn't a bad thing...was it?

The conflicted feelings followed him into the cafeteria and Mori picked up a tray, piling it with sweet foods for Mitsukuni should he find him first and more normal fare for himself. He had a bit of granola, some tofu and a salad, and had made a bagel sandwich out of the sausage patties, lettuce and scrambled eggs. He figured this would tide him over until dinner, and if not, it was a buffet. He could go back for more if he needed it.

As he walked through the cafeteria, waiting for a familiar scent to catch his attention, he mulled over his plate. Was it enough? Should he get more pancakes and syrup and cream for Mitsukuni? He had his usual batch of strawberries he was going to filch for him like he always did, but was that going to tide over his cousin's--

Mori stopped in his tracks as he passed a young woman sitting by herself at a table. Normally, he wouldn't pay too much attention to the various women here when he wasn't on Host duty, but this one warranted a second look. She had more food than he'd seen anyone here eat before and was shoving it into her mouth like she was starving and this was her first and last meal for the next month. She was a classic Japanese beauty with jet black hair and pale skin to complement her dark eyes, and yet...

Mori couldn't help but stare at her, both entranced and disturbed by what he saw. And while he knew it was rude to stare, he couldn't move on now that he'd seen this. It was just...too... Wow, this girl could eat.