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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[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

It sounded like Spock had already been made to go to therapy, but he clearly wasn't a patient of Mohinder's. It made Peter wonder how the doctor would have reacted if he had been made to face someone who looked almost exactly like Sylar, but considering how he didn't even seem to recognize him for who he really was, it probably wouldn't even matter. Whatever Landel had done to the man's brain, it wasn't something that could be broken through easily.

Even if Matt Parkman, that mind-reader, had been here, chances were he wouldn't have a ice cube's chance in hell of being able to reverse the mind control that was going on in this place.

"Yeah, exactly. I knew him before we both ended up here, but he doesn't even recognize me anymore. He thinks I'm someone who's convinced myself that I'm Peter rather than... actually being him." Which was a confusing concept on its own, but the fact that the doctor was so convinced of it was the really worrying part. It meant that Landel was manipulating people's perceptions on top of everything else. And maybe that's what he had done last night -- made it seem like Pontiac had been abandoned when it hadn't been. Maybe that was wishful thinking, but...

"I'm guessing you've had to deal with therapy already?" he went on to ask. "Did you know your doctor before coming here, or were they a complete stranger to you?" Peter still hadn't come across anyone who had the same situation that he had with Mohinder, but it seemed odd for him to be the only one.

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

If Peter's story was true, then that carried a lot of implications regarding the remainder of the staff. Spock wished he could have had an opportunity to meet this Mohinder, but given the fact he was assigned to a different doctor, that likely would not happen in the near future. It was still important information to consider during any future encounters he had with Venkman, however.

"No, I had not met my assigned doctor until our appointment together last week," Spock replied. "This is the first I have heard of an instance in which a patient was personally acquainted with individuals working for the institute prior to their capture." On the surface, it was difficult to know what qualified a doctor to be targeted for the method of brainwashing used to turn them into a seemingly willing employees for Landel. Spock thought of Dr. McCoy and silently wondered if he was at a higher risk of experiencing a similar change at some point during their captivity.

They would need to be on their guard, at any rate.

Though there was more Spock wished to ask Peter about, it appeared they would need to withhold discussing the issue further for the time being. It was at that moment the intercom sounded. The eating period was finished, sending nurses throughout the cafeteria as they attempted to escort their charges onto the next scheduled activity.

"Perhaps we shall meet again in the future," Spock neutrally said as he placed his folded napkin neatly onto his tray along with his utensils.

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

So that meant that he was still the only person who'd actually known his doctor before all this. Well, Peter wasn't counting Sylar, but he didn't see any reason to. It seemed like something he would have to look into further, so he'd have to try and remind himself to leave up a note about it on the board, either today or tomorrow. He realized tomorrow might be better since most people checked it first thing in the morning, so doing that would give him the most responses.

Before they could speculate or talk any more than that, though, the intercom went off and cut into their meal. Peter sighed and pushed his tray away; he'd pretty much gotten through most of his brunch, anyway.

Spock's parting comment was pretty ambiguous, but it was better than nothing. It left open the possibility, even if the man didn't seem completely set on reconnecting later. "Sure thing," he said with a nod. "I check the bulletin as much as I can, so you can always try to get a hold of me there. Just put a one after my name, since there's someone else named Peter here."

With those instructions given, the man stood from his seat and moved away from Spock, searching out a nurse as he tried to decide where he wanted to go next. Anywhere but that waiting room where the visitors showed up...