damned_institute | 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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The mention of food had immediately captured Minako's attention, especially after she'd avoided it the day before-- and especially because the man on the intercom seemed so fascinated with describing it. She all but dragged the nurse back downstairs to the cafeteria and then spent a moment staring at the selection with something approaching awe until her stomach growled and reminded her of why she was actually there. Well. The place might be a creepy horror-movie-in-disguise, but they sure did feed people well.

Hopefully they really didn't drug the food, but... well, if she was going to end up stuck here for a period of days or maybe even weeks she couldn't starve herself. Mimicking the other people already present, she grabbed a tray and went down the line, picking out a somewhat random assortment of food. Once finished she turned to survey the almost-empty room with a thoughtful frown, then shrugged and headed over to an unoccupied table that gave her a good view of the door. Now that all those people weren't on that trip or whatever it was yesterday she was curious to see who else was stuck here, too. And maybe one of them could answer some questions.

[Howl]

Howl allowed the routine to take him after he had left the unfortunate Keman. All those emotions made him feel uncomfortable and inadequate, and Howl was eager to abandon any further attempts to find something in himself that he simply lacked.

That routine was slightly different that day, as it seemed that visitors were expected. He wondered with a strange lack of emotion whether or not anyone had come to see him. It would, of course, not be Megan or Sophie or Michael, but some construct made to appear as them. The magical thing would would see a reflection in his mind, and appear as thus. Still, he sometimes craved a familiar face, enough to tolerate a well done doppelganger. He knew what those people expected of him, and he knew what they wanted. It made dealing with people so much easier when it was all laid out like that.

Of course, perhaps Sophie shouldn't have been included on that list. He wasn't sure what she wanted besides to frustrate him and make him miserable, perhaps in some misguided attempt to teach him a lesson. Her attempts hadn't made any impression on him, and he still denied the way that his life had slowly begun to shift to keep her in it. And yet, he always remembered that ginger haired girl he had seen for only a moment. It was most likely that he had imagined her. He had seen a pretty girl, much like that little mouse, with her bow lips and stern gaze, and he had allowed himself to hope. The thing he had been hoping for seemed an exciting relief at the time, but he knew in the long run it would only make him miserable if Sophie were to appear. And if that were her, who had managed to lift that blasted curse, where he was unable and she was unwilling?

Howl gathered himself a modest breakfast and some napkins with which he continuously dabbed his nose sadly whenever a nurse cast her eyes his way. He was distracted only by the sight of a pretty blonde sitting alone, and decided to continue fishing for sympathy at her table. She was very young, he realized, near in age to Lettie Hatter.

Regardless, he gave her a smile that was soft and tired, but filled with manicured friendliness. It was a warmth that his eyes could not reflect, despite his best attempts. "Good morning, miss," he greeted, and balancing his tray on one hand, he swept his dark hair from his glassy eyes with the other. "Would you mind terribly if I joined you?"

There really was a weird assortment of people here, wasn't there? Minako had already seen people ranging from way-too-young to weirdly-old (and why was that guy half covered in bandages?) and with really nothing in common between them. Shouldn't kids be in a different facility than grownups? If this was a real hospital, at least; she probably shouldn't be surprised to find stuff that didn't make sense, considering what happened at night.

Since she was already looking around anyway it wasn't hard to spot the guy heading toward her table, but contrary to what she'd expected he actually kept heading toward the table and stopped to smile at her. He was kind of handsome, wasn't he? And... oh right, talking to her.

"Oh! Of course I don't mind, feel free," she assured him, glancing away half a second too late to avoid staring, and gestured toward all the open seats at the table. There was something odd about his eyes, but she wasn't sure what, and he probably wouldn't appreciate if she looked long enough to figure it out. And... well, it wasn't every day a cute guy wanted to sit and talk with her, was it? "Good morning to you, too. I'm Aino Minako. Minako."

"A pleasure, Miss Minako," he responded with a slight bow before taking his seat. Another exotic name. There seemed to be a large number of those here, but Howl hadn't considered the implications. He had truly been lazy, or at least unwilling to sit and think about his situation for any longer than he had to. He was growing certain that he was the only Welshman in the entire facility, though he had heard a few more familiar accents across the room before.

Despite all of this, they were supposedly somewhere in America. Howl had never visited the real America, nor traveled anywhere much at all in his childhood. Travel in the real world required resources, or at least subtlety, but after mastering his gift it had all seemed so dull. He had preferred to skip about his own little fantasy world, where things never seemed so real or binding. He could become an entirely different person there. Namely, the Horrible Wizard Howl, eating hearts and terrifying hard working folk.

"Howl Pendragon. But just call me Howl, if you please." He left off the bit about being a wizard and being horrible. After all, he didn't know where she stood on the topic of magic and bad reputations. "I hope that the night treated you well, or at least as well as it is ever inclined to treat anyone. I would be hate to hear that you had been mistreated."

Handsome and very polite, too. Well. The place couldn't be all that bad if people like him were here, could it? Minako beamed, absently reaching up to straighten her bow and smooth down her hair; it was too bad that they didn't allow her to have her real clothes here. Something pretty and not grey pajamas. And maybe some makeup, too, while she was at it.

"It's good to meet you, Howl-san," she replied, with a smile that would hopefully dispel any concerns he might have about her ability to take care of herself. (Or should she pretend to need his help? No, that would just be silly. Never mind.) "It was a really strange night, but not that bad. Except for the part where we were in the rain for a while." She gave a dramatic shudder at the memory of that part; slogging through mud in cold and wet rain wasn't anything she wanted to do if she could avoid it.

Day 50: Cafeteria (Brunch)

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