Day 51: Breakfast

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

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.

Comments

[fuzzy-diablo.livejournal.com]

Logan had a point. The extent of the damage Peter did was to the bulletin and the walls. Kurt and Terry had the wind knocked out of them, but that was about it. Logan's claws, however, were dangerous all on their own. Kurt had been on the other end of those claws, he didn't want to be there again. Granted, any mutant's powers that went awry were dangerous, but some were more dangerous than others. Maybe that was why he and Peter got along so well--they really couldn't do much besides walk on ceilings and catch people as far as powers went.

"Nobody wakes up dead, Logan," Kurt said gently, smiling a little at his half-hearted attempt at a joke. He went back to his toast. "You know... you attacked me and Kitty once. Magneto got into your head somehow and you kind of went nuts. But you didn't hurt either of us--you recognized us and ran off before things got really bad." Kurt prodded at his pieces of toast and looked back up at Logan. "Maybe you're not my professor, but you're still Logan, still a part of the X-men. I think you'd do the same thing.

"B-but yeah, that was last night. Are we mounting a mission to the basement now?" Kurt smiled, trying to sound excited. He'd heard bad things about what went down there, but moving forward and the thought of going on a mission did lift his spirits.

[noifsandsorbubs.livejournal.com]

Logan snorted at Kurt's joke and pointed his fork at him. "Figure of speech, smartass."

The next thing was kind of sobering, and he looked at his tray while Kurt talked. It was true enough that there'd been times when he'd freaked out or lost control and nobody'd gotten hurt, but how long had it been now since he'd killed Jean-Paul - a couple years, if that? And that had been more like this; that had been a brainwashing thing. He lingered for a second on that thought: did Kurt need to know?

No, he didn't. Or maybe he should, but it was a long and ugly story, and Logan didn't want to tell it. "I dunno if I'd call it a mission," he said, mostly because 'mission' was synonymous with 'screwup' half the time; "but look - last thing I'm gonna say about this. If you ever get in a situation where I'm not acting like myself, don't stick around to test your theory. Got that?"