http://selfrescuer.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] selfrescuer.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute2010-06-17 01:58 pm

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]

[identity profile] full-score.livejournal.com 2010-06-28 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
Claude had been here long enough to know there weren't any side effects from the medicine they gave during the day. By all accounts, they really went above and beyond to come across as a regular hospital when the sun was out. It was just when the lights got shut down that they really needed to worry. Besides, as high as his tolerance for pain was, the feeling of sand in his eyes was enough to drive most people a little batty. If the institute was wiling to provide a little relief during the day, he was willing to quietly take it.

Either way, it looked like his change in topic worked well enough, at least for now. It was always a mixed blessing to hear other people had friends they knew from before in this place. On one hand, no one deserved to face the nightly challenges here alone. But on the other, it meant that there were more victims being added to their numbers everyday. That was why Claude liked hearing stories of patients who met within the institute's walls and decided to band together in the fact of what Landel threw at them.

"I've got a few friends from home, too," Claude answered. "But I've also met some really great people since coming here." Not to mention some horrible people, but there was no reason to go into that.

"Where are you from, anyway?" he asked. Normally it was a topic Claude avoided with strangers, choosing to focus on more lighthearted discussion that was less likely to evoke feelings of homesickness, but he didn't have the energy to come up with anything creative right then.