damned_institute | Day 51: Breakfast

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Day 51: Breakfast

Yuffie Kisaragi, indomitable bouncing ball of sunshine and unfathomable ebullience, was tired. It'd been a long night full of gibberish and getting nowhere fast.

"Can't I—"

Plucky, who had been busily loading a plate full of French toast and bacon, tittered. "I'm afraid not, Hanna, darling. A chat over a nice, hearty breakfast would do you a world of good, don't you think?"

"Aaaaactually—"

"Come on, let's find you a seat. Plenty to choose from this morning!"

For a long moment, Yuffie seriously considered doing something—anything—to act out. Punch her nurse, rub jam in an orderly's face, climb a wall and hang off the ceiling, jump on a table and parody Loveless… A ruckus like that would definitely jolt her back into gear, right? Sedation aside. And it'd turn Plucky's good day right on its head, which was always a bonus worth shooting for.

But, by the time she'd reached a decision—and it was an epic decision, a really awesome one; everybody'd appreciate the genius, she was sure—she was already alone. Her breakfast tray had been set down neatly by the nurse, who had left with an infuriatingly winsome smile.

"Wow," Yuffie muttered. Shaking her head, she picked a chair at random and threw herself into it. She kicked back, one arm slung across her eyes, to wait. For what, she wasn't totally sure. Some moron to decide that she looked like good company? That was how it usually went.

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Another day, another set of bandages to show off. If there was a record for ‘most injuries sustained during stay’ here, Depth Charge figured he was going about beating it in just the right way. Broken ribs, a bruise here, a gash there… he was gonna look like a patchwork by the end of it all if he wasn’t more careful. The chest wound he’d gotten from that freak show last night hadn’t been as deep as it could have been (he hadn’t seen organs, and that was all that mattered to him) but that didn’t mean he wasn’t bitter about it- bitter enough that he made sure to be just that little bit more uncooperative and sour to his actual nurse when she showed up. ‘You fell down the stairs’ his skidplate. Knowing his luck, it had probably been her who’d tried to rip him up personally.

It had looked as though Hime had gotten out of things okay and last he knew the woman they’d tried to save had been on her feet. That was something. Anyway, knowing they’d tried to do something, albeit with limited success, was a little comforting in an odd sort of way. Made him feel like he’d managed to do something useful with his time, even when Landel’d thrown a culture shock or two in his path- not to mention a Pitload less guilty about running out on Search and Rescue for so long.

Speaking of culture shocks, Depth Charge had almost let himself be grateful when the Head Doctor started to speak Cybertronix again—until he reminded himself that he’d taken it away in the first place, and that he was the reason any of them were here at all. What was there to be ‘grateful’ about? Slag all.

Dropping his table with just a little more force than was really necessary (“Mr. Price, really! I don’t know what’s gotten into you today!”), he found himself a seat and began to pick at his breakfast- mostly fruit, along with some juice. He wasn't really in the mood for a hunger strike, but...

Target! A... slightly folded, mangled, or spindled one. After a whole night of dealing with one Cybertronian and not being able to bother him, HK needed to pester another. Therefore, as soon as he had been forced into accepting a tray of food, he immediately made for the slightly shredded fishbot.

"Observation: You look like you had an interesting night," HK noted, dropping his tray of food on the table with great deliberateness and then immediately shoving it out of the way, "Or something had an interesting night at you. Query: Should I be making cutting and innuendo-related remarks at you in return for last time we spoke? It's not my specialty, but I might be able to manage."

Now that everybody was somehow speaking perfect Basic as per Landel's specifications, he could share his great witticisms with this captive audience again. Jubilation and exultance.

And just when he thought his day couldn't get any better, who was to come along but a certain robot looking for his own form of revenge? Depth Charge nearly winced; what had he said last time they'd spoken again? He couldn't remember exactly. Something about being sexually harassed by Lockdown.

...

This was karma, wasn't it? Slag it.

Depth Charge sighed and rolled his eyes towards HK, wearing a look of flat, irritated indifference. "Suggestion: just try it, brain-drain." He dropped his knife and fork with a clatter, folding his arms in a way that wasn't the slightest bit defensive at all. "Had a date with a nurse and a scalpel or two. I'm sure you've had more exciting nights with Lockdown, so I won't bore you with the details."

[eeheehee. Sorry, DC.]

"Statement: I was going to, but if you already tried anything untoward and squishy with one of the mutant night-meatbags, then I would hope that your own tortured processor's cries for help are likely far worse than anything I could manage to wring out with insulting insinuations." He had to be very careful not to cringe as he said that, the mental imagery of what he'd just conjured up making his personality core feel like a strong corrosive had just been dumped on it.

"Query: So apart from your foray into unnatural acts and masochism, has anything of note happened since we last bothered each other?"

HK might have stopped himself from flinching, but Depth Charge wasn't quite so quick with his reaction management this time around. Urgh. He'd set himself up for that one, really. "Something like that." Somehow, he managed to dredge up a wan and exceptionally fake smile to go with his answer- better to roll with it than to start getting slagged off. Part of him wondered about mentioning he'd ended up dragging two women into the fight, but-- nahh. He'd already given him enough ammunition for one round. No need to be over-generous.

"Not exactly. A few scuffles here and there, a little roadtrip down into the basement. The usual." He raised an eyebrow at the other robot pointedly. "I'm surprised you're here at all. Shouldn't you be mourning Lockdown?"

Ha! He might have just mildly traumatized himself to do it, but he won! "Statement: I assumed so." It didn't feel like a very great accomplishment, turning meatbag perversions around on another inorganic, but still!

"Answer: Mourning would cut down on the chances to wreak bloody revenge upon the meatbags. And besides, I have been working with Lugnut." Which was made more obvious by the fact that every time the nurses tried to remove the pen-drawn Decepticon symbol from his arm, he reapplied it, precisely where Lugnut had drawn it. "And, as of last night, the Autobot, Ratchet, although that did not go very far before the autotranslator was turned off." Well, they'd gotten much more done after that, but there had been arguments taking place before!

The pride that came with such a simple statement all but came off of HK in waves. What was this, the Let's Rain On DC's Parade Power Hour? Depth Charge could only comfort himself with the fact that he'd only sacrificed a battle in what was going to be a war; he who chooses his moment to snark is he who ultimately wins the sarcasm sweepstakes. That, and he couldn't think of a comeback snappy enough to avert the fact that he'd essentially be admitting to getting his aft handed to him in a fight.

"How romantic," he answered dryly, redirecting his irritation into something more productive- like listening calmly while the nurse was in hearing range. Hearing about Lugnut caught his attention though, even more when HK brought Ratchet into the matter as well. "Lugnut recruited you, huh? Typical. Didn't know he was still around." Which wasn't at all a backwards way of asking after the Decepticon. Of course not. "So Ratchet didn't mind working with a 'con?"

Now that the matter was settled, there were other conversation topics to distract HK thoroughly from how he had just won. Also, he was going to ignore the commentary about what had happened with regards to Lockdown, because he at least had the sense to know that any conversation along those lines was doomed to fall out of the sky like the Ebon Hawk hitting the disruptor field over Lehon. "Statement: Yes, he is still here, as far as I am aware. I hope he continues to be here, because I gave him one of my weapons two nights ago. I would not want him or my ax to mysteriously disappear." HK really didn't want to admit it, but since Lugnut had made him a Decepticon, it was the first time he'd felt remotely at home here. Well, besides when he was killing things, that always made him feel at home.

"Answer: Apparently he did not mind enough to hit me over the head when I approached him, admittedly done suddenly and without warning. We... didn't accomplish much of anything, but we couldn't communicate what goal we might be working towards by the time we started to move." Maybe he shouldn't have gotten so caught up in arguing with the Autobot. The only problem was that it was almost precisely like poking the geriatric Jedi, but with less risk of having something 'amusing' happen to him as a result.

There was a scary thought, now that he had a moment to think about it in its entirety. Lugnut-and-HK, working side by side to plough through a vast assortment of nurse-, Autobot- (if Lugnut got a little ahead of himself) and zombie-shaped creatures with a glorious array of makeshift weaponry: two bloodthirsty psychopaths on an Institute-wide rampage. It would've been almost touching, if it didn't fill him with a deep, unshakable feeling of dread. Like he trusted either of them alone for a second. "Yeah? Well, tell him I'm watching him next time you talk."

Oh, well. Maybe Ratchet could keep them in control a little- knock their heads together when they stepped out of line. Mostly, he was just relieved that the guy seemed to actually be sticking to their little agreement. Not that he'd have blamed him for straying, of course... Depth Charge sighed, folding his arms. "So you just snuck up on him like a creep? Fantastic. Nice to see relations at such a high. Did you even tell him you were a 'con?"

"Acknowledgment: I will do so," HK replied, "And I would like to note that if you attempt to do so at night, I will be able to find you easily." He probably shouldn't have given that away, but deterring any attempt to sneak up on Lugnut or himself was probably better than finding out the pointy way whether he was in fact paying attention to his surroundings or not.

"Protestation: I most certainly did not. I simply move quietly, because I am an assassin model. It is as much a part of me as making bad life choices involving meatbags seems to be with you." He wasn't very proud of that one, but he couldn't resist it.

Blammo! Straight between the optics. Depth Charge made a face. "Right, right, you couldn't help it- just like you can't help being a pain in the fender," he fired back. "And, by the by, that was a cheap shot." He sighed deeply again and rubbed at his temple. Why did it feel like he was still fighting a war every time he spoke to these guys?

Eventually, he gave HK a long, hard, don't-even-think-sarcastically-because-I'll-know stare. "Look. All I'm asking is that you play nice. That really so much to ask? Even Lugnut can do it when he feels like it, for Primus' sake. And Ratchet." He paused. "You saying Ratchet stuck with you even though he knew you were with the 'cons?"

"Affirmative: Yes, precisely like that," HK stated, "And I acknowledge that I could have done better, but it was just such an easy target, figuratively jumping up and down, waving its arms and screeching 'Take a shot! Take a shot!'"

HK gave back a mostly blank stare, tinged with a slight edge of why-are-we-staring-at-each-other-this-is-uncomfortable perplexity. "Statement: I am. I am more or less acting the same way as the recent period in which I was a part of a team partially composed of Jedi, albeit with some modifications due to the incalculable, lurking psychological damage caused by suddenly finding myself a meatbag." He'd been prone to (deniable!) lippy-ness when he was on the Ebon Hawk, too.

"Affirmative: He already knew prior to last night." HK was not going to elaborate on this one at least, because elaboration would involve mentioning the shower shift, the approach of which was bringing on a sense of impending doom for the assassin.

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Day 51: Breakfast

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