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]

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[vodka-jump.livejournal.com]

Russia glanced once more at the bulletin board before the nurse urged him that it was time to eat. He hadn't even been around a day and America was already spreading rumors faster than France. It was no surprise that England was backing him as well, but that did mean that at the very least he and America weren't the only ones who'd been annexed by this place.

The thought of food though, was at least somewhat calming. There was a variety of foods he hadn't really seen offered altogether before. He picked several different things, always glad to try something new. Hopefully the food would be better than Japan's cooking. He tended to get so forgetful and leave his sewing needles near the food. It made for decidedly crunchy ohage.

The economy here, he decided, must be very healthy, especially if they were able to support so many free-loaders here with food. They hadn't been forced into manual labor and it didn't seem like they were being sold anywhere, so what was the point?

While he didn't sit right next to anyone just yet, he did have a fairly good vantage point to sit and stare from a distance. There were plenty of weak and small ones and some that looked like it just might be fun to see what kind of face they made when they were screaming in agony. That might be nice too.

[Florence America ♥ ]

[willbethehero.livejournal.com]

Talking with England in the Chapel hadn't exactly been the boost of encouragement America had been hoping, but he couldn't think about that now. He had to put on his best and brightest smile for the meeting he had next, because it hadn't been so long ago that he'd dealt with the USSR that he'd forgotten how those meetings went. America had to make sure he didn't show any outward weakness for Russia to pick up on, because damn it, he refused to approach this as if he needed Russia more than Russia needed him. They may have taken his land and his people, and maybe even his inhuman invulnerability, but America was still America, and damn proud of it!

And when it came to being in good spirits, a pile of cheeseburgers definitely went a long way toward that effort.

Ignoring the nurse's disapproval of his stack of food, and any stray thoughts about how American the whole set-up and selection were, America headed over toward the nation that had once been (and thought he still was) his greatest foe. Finding Russia in a crowd was never hard: isolated and grinning at the weaker ones around him like a cat. America couldn't stand things like that, and he clenched his tray harder, walked across the room with a quicker step. But he refused to let it show, and by the time he'd claimed the spot across from Russia, hopefully blocking his view, America was smiling just as brightly as he had as a colony.

"Hey there, Russia. Is now a bad time?" Obviously America didn't care so much, since he'd already sat down and started munching away on his first cheeseburger. Oh man, evil or not, this place could cook! "I wanted to go over the potential truce, and even nations like us can have a peaceful meal together, right?" So long as America watched out for incoming silverware, anyway. He wasn't going to loose an eye to a plastic spoon.

[vodka-jump.livejournal.com]

Speaking of faces he would love to see all twisted up and screaming in pain, Alfred was already on his way over. Unfortunately, unlike Italy or the Baltic countries or even Germany, America wasn't a pushover. If he tried negotiating the same way he might speak with the others, he knew America would be right there to jabber away at him, whether or not it was full of cheeseburger at the time. But as far as he was concerned, the fact that America was the one asking for peace talks showed weakness on his part. Not Russia's. A slightly new or different situation wasn't going to change anything. And he wasn't going to start asking for help because of it.

"America," he smiled, looking the part at least, of a harmless and pleasant man. Though now America had known him long enough to know better. "I guess I have some time to listen. But maybe you should talk fast, da? It's really hard to hold back when I have to look at your face for too long. Eheh~"

[willbethehero.livejournal.com]

"Ha ha, I totally get what you mean!" Ivan had played a good first shot, but America wasn't going to get flustered over an insult to his looks. Even after the Cold War, he and Russia often exchanged insults as pleasantries; after all, who suddenly becomes best friends with their arch-nemesis? America took a large bite of his cheeseburger, then, as predicted, spoke around the mouthful as he held it up. "Looking at you almost makes this burger tastes like England made it!"

Now, how to go about getting Russia on his side. America knew better than to just spill details, at least in this case. England had been America's ally throughout the hostile period after WWII, so if Russia knew how badly he was hurt, he'd try to take advantage of it. But at the same time, America had to try and convince Russia of how bad off they all were, including Russia himself, to get his support. Man, this was hard!

"You know when I asked you about something missing yesterday, yeah?" He'd actually swallowed before speaking this time, since it was serious. "You can't feel your land or your people. And don't lie to me and say you can, because I know better." Or at least, that's what he was betting on. America stayed smug because if he showed the least bit of doubt, Russia would pick up on it, and try to deny it. "Something like that's got to be worse than anything I ever did, even to someone like you."

[vodka-jump.livejournal.com]

Russia ignored the petty insult, if only partially because he could hardly say he had much better taste than either America or England. Food was food and even if it tasted terrible, sometimes you just had to suck it up and eat it anyway. Not that it mattered now, seeing as they had such a wide selection to choose from. He took a few more bites.

The other part though, was much harder to ignore. Russia wasn't one to dwell much on his inner-most feelings, he usually came up empty or haunted by his own nightmarish past. There were fragments and pieces he was happy to leave forgotten or left to grow dull with the passing of time. But even his usual emptiness was nothing compared to the complete detachment he felt toward anything that was home. No land, people, politics, any of it.

Russia was never the first to admit weakness and now was no different. The only change was that America and presumably any other countries here were having the exact same problems. He smiled back at Alfred, tilting his head just slightly to one side, but making no move to deny the country's claim.

"What are you getting at America? That we ought to join forces to defeat a powerful enemy? That I should be your backup on some foolish heroic quest?" Not that it wasn't Russia's eventual goal to take over this place as well, but if America thought he would be ordering them around like before, he had another thing coming.

[willbethehero.livejournal.com]

Whatever Russia's reasons for not responding to America's remark, the fact that he'd had the last word meant that America had won, plain and simple. And since he was always in a mood to keep score, America added a point to the tally board in his head, even if his victory really was obvious. The fact that America had ultimately won the Cold War gave Russia no chance of catching up, ever, and he liked it that way. Widening the gap between them only made things sweeter.

He didn't say anything about missing his nation, either to confirm or deny, but America kept up his bluster. Certainly he wasn't going to be openly bothered by it if Russia wasn't. The era may have been long gone in America's time, but that didn't mean he was going to give Russia an advantage now. America's competitive spirit never faded, no matter what the circumstances, and now was no different. He wouldn't lose.

"Hell no!" Which, in this case, would have meant sputtering and getting angry at Russia's attempt to provoke him. But America was better than that, thank you very much Mr. Communist bastard. "Having you as my backup would mean I trusted you not to stab me in the back. Just because the last time I kicked your ass was almost twenty years ago doesn't mean I've forgotten what you can be like." Things like the Cuban Missile Crisis would forever stick out in America's memory. He had to keep Russia where he could see him, especially if he really was vulnerable like a human, and the other nation realized it. It just wouldn't do if he achieved the crowning moment of heroic victory, only to be taken down by his old rival seconds afterward.

"I'm just saying that we shouldn't be trying to kill each other at the very least, because it's not going to fix anything." And really, America had bigger villains to defeat than one he'd already beaten. "Not just you and me, either. Germany and Prussia are here too, and the geezer. This is a crisis we need to attack as Nations United!" With America as the leader, but he'd leave that part out just so Russia wouldn't complain. At least until he agreed to come to the meeting. "We'll find someplace neutral to hold a World Meeting tonight, and figure out a plan. Just show up, okay?"