Day 51: Lunch

[prodigalson]

Edward was glad to wake up to a period of respite. While he had been conscious during breakfast, he'd requested to remain in his room for extra "sleep", which had consisted waiting until the room was vacated to ingest the vial of Venom's blood. The vampire had lost his chance last night, but that might have been for the better; this way he wasn't in a rush to examine the flavor, as somewhat repulsive as that sounded. Even though he was primarily concerned with getting a meal instead of trying to divine what chemicals could be in the patient body as a whole - if any were at all - he was taking his job seriously, as he knew the risks Venom was already taking with him

He didn't like debts, after all. He was still trying to make up for his first transgression against the assassin.

The blood was familiar to him, but he could find no difference in it from the first time he had drank from Venom. Though his sense of taste was probably lacking compared to what it had once been, Edward couldn't sense any chemical that shouldn't have been a part of it. It was just... blood.

After the vial was emptied, he'd been sure to shove it back into the pillowcase stashed in the closet, as long as shoving the shotgun under his mattress. He was actually surprised the weapon was seemingly so easy to hide; unless the nurses never entered the rooms to search through them, there was no way it should still be here. In a way, he was beginning to think of the rooms as a safe haven.

Though that thought couldn't be necessarily true. After all, when he awoke, Bella's blood wasn't staining his fingertips, and the bandages on his face had been removed as the cuts slowly healed themselves. Someone was changing them, and if he assumed he hadn't gained the ability to sleepwalk as well as sleep, well...

Lunch had already passed for the vampire if Venom's blood was anything to show for it, so he took his usual route through the line, promptly pushing the tray of whatever-the-hell away from him as soon as he sat down. This time he'd brought his journal with him, and though his memory was perfection itself he wanted physical evidence of what he had found in the institute after all. Mostly he was making a note for Bella - a picture of the blond man, the not-Zato, and sketches showing the way its form had changed subtly to reveal the nature of the beast. Assuming it was a beast, of course.

[For his killer bff.]

Comments

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

Well that'd been cool. It'd been a while since anyone had believed him right off the bat when he said he wasn't human. Okay, sure, probably more people had believed him than he'd make it out to be, but getting laughed at and then hitting said laughing guy over the head with a fully loaded food tray... that was a lot more memorable than "You're a Digimon? What's that?"

He was sort of hoping that being believed was gonna be a trend today, cause right up until the moment where he got pissed off, he didn't actually want to go to town on someone. Well, unless he just didn't like them anyway.

He wasn't too happy about the food at luch, though. Sure, it smelled good, but it looked suspiciously similar to that stuff they'd had at lunch the day they'd made him think he was a human. And bit his tongue. Which, you know, wouldn't have really been a problem if his teeth weren't all sharpened to points.

Ah well. He'd been thinking he was a human then, they didn't normally have sharp teeth, so now that he was back to knowing he was a Digimon he wouldn't do that again. ...Right?

Whether he would or not, he was already sitting down to show his cheeseburger who was boss.

[Erika!]

[witchoftruth]

With plans made for the night, Erika couldn't have been in a better mood. While Momo was ending up to be an oddly convenient piece on this board, she knew there was a purpose behind that; whether it was good or bad, Erika did not know. However, the girl didn't seem at all bothered by that possibility and might have even embraced it. This gameboard was a poorly set up one, but there was some hope for it yet. Unfortunately, now she had nothing to do but... wait.

Or did she? Certainly, there were still things to do. People to speak to, and new information to uncover. While Erika had done her best to map out the area as soon as possible, she was distracted by Marc's mission and neglected that; depending on how things went in the basement tonight, she might have to reprioritize mapping out the Institute's layout. Perhaps she should focus on that.

It would be easier to think if she wasn't served such terrible food. The all-American lunch was definitely not up to Erika's tastes as she collected her food and chose a seat at random, in front of a man who looked like he had just sat down to get started on his own lunch. Good, so she wasn't interrupting anything.

At least, if this place was in Japan, she would be able to eat the greasy death contraption with chopsticks and not have to dirty her hands. That was why Erika grabbed a plastic knife and fork, and with her tools, she began to cut into her burger like one might cut into a steak, bun and all.

As if she would dirty her hands with all of this disgusting grease. She had things to hold, after all.

"It's not one of my favorite meals, but I suppose there's no point in skipping lunch, is there?" Erika looked up at the man with a pleasant smile, seemingly unconcerned with her strange behavior.

[arc-wrench.livejournal.com]

Thank the Maker! He'd escaped the showers without being perverted-at by any meatbags! This would hopefully become a trend today. No pervy meatbags. He liked that idea.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for food. If he were emperor of all meatbags, he would decree food to be outlawed. Then he'd watch them all die. Two of his goals would be completed in one simple edict!

But until then, his squishy body required food to survive. Therefore it was with great trepidation that he sat down, carefully examined his meat-cake-with-two-bits-of-bread, poked it with a fork, and then... took a very small bite.

[Maya!]

[selfnighted.livejournal.com]

"Afraid it's poisoned, or just the way it tastes?" Maya plunked her plate down and then tilted her head, swishing her hair over her shoulder.

After picking up her paper flower (she'd decided to keep it, after all), she'd walked quickly out of the Arts and Crafts room, keeping an eye out for Kivat the 2nd before a nurse caught up with her and escorted her to the cafeteria. There, the nurse insisted on piling Maya's plate with food, despite Maya's intention not to eat any of it. When she'd finally sat down (which had also been "suggested" by the nurse, as if Maya couldn't find someone on her own—unless this nurse had seen her with Rei and didn't want Maya bothering other young patients), Maya was just a little bit frazzled.

"You have the look of someone who'd know. Are the nurses always this overbearing?" The food, while it smelled pretty nice, did not look appetizing in the slightest. There was no fruit, either, to brighten up the dull palette of colors the meal consisted of. Maya sighed, and picked up her fork. It wasn't even silver, she thought morosely.

[anemptydecapo]

[I see what you did there.]

The situation with Edward's fiance grew terse and uncomfortable, but in the least it was short-lived. As nice a girl as she seemed, he couldn't afford to grow close to either one of them if he wished for anything to function properly and though he had taken the time to scold her, it was for the betterment of everyone that she understand where they stood. Still, by the time the intercom had begun, Venom had already moved away from the girl and to the board, intent on finding word of their test's results.

...Empty. It was empty.

His eyes closed as he slowly exhaled, the pain of an inevitable migraine pounding against the inside of his skull. It could never be that easy, could it? With as limited resources as he had, they could never leave one loose thread in his reach, could they?

That was fine. They hadn't exhausted everything and so long as he remained here, he would find something to bend to his advantage and beat this system. That was all he ever did.

For now, he needed to discuss this further with the vampire. The patients themselves were not the only beings in the vicinity at risk of chemical manipulation and after having seen that experimentation room for himself, there had to be a link they could find and exploit. Edward was easy enough to spot, back to the Guild Head or no. After being coaxed into finally taking something to eat and tying his hair back, he moved toward that head of red hair and...

what is he--

Venom stopped just behind the other man, towering over his shoulder, obviously having noticed what was in that journal. What was he doing? What was he doing? That information was private, he promised it would never be brought up again! What was he doing drawing him?! The assassin's eyes grew dark, his fingers digging deep into the tray's plastic body as opposed to Edward's throat, his voice chilled with a calm loathing that had always stayed reserved for more deserving and ultimately dead targets. "What are you doing."

[prodigalson]

He looked up from his journal to examine whose shadow was now covering his journal, not exactly surprised to find his business associate creeping over his shoulder. He knew when Venom said he would find him later, he would. "I'm drawing. It involves using a pen to create something that looks like a picture." Despite knowing what Venom meant - you just had to love the way his cold anger was creeping out of his head like it was riding a tsunami - the question was enough to earn a sarcastic answer.

But before he heard any further objections, the vampire took the pen and slammed its head onto the paper, slashing it back and forth across the almost photographic sketches over the blind man's face. He left the hands, their fingers slowly lengthening into wickedly curved claws, alone. That part was still important.

He still wasn't particularly sure how this creature operated. Clearly it had used the powerful image of this man in an attempt to control Venom, which made it some sort of telepath... or maybe some sort of psychic, like Abe had been. Powerful enough to search through memories, whether they were being actively thought about or not. Powerful enough to capture (mostly) a personality and mimic it. If it had proved to be enough of a danger to himself and Venom, he was most definitely worried about Bella encountering one. Perhaps he could form some sort of code word, only one she would recognize... he couldn't count on the fact the creature might be hindered by her mental block. Not when the possibility that it could break it existed. But would it see the signal in her memory?

A conundrum.

"I assume you're here for more than to critique my art," he said after a quiet moment, sighing. "Do you have a new plan for this blood experimentation?"

[tartaros-avatar.livejournal.com]

Hamburgers and hotdogs. In modern America, there was nothing so proletariat nor soul-crushingly advantageous to only the most cold (and grease-stained) corporations. Frankly, Recluse minded neither, just as long as he didn't have to be exposed to either. A good portion of the Rogue Isles was fed on Nutri-Paste, after all, the chemical-filled wonder that came from Aeon Laboratories. What was the line Aeon used? Ah, right. "Made to the highest standards of nutrition under quality-controlled industrial conditions". Such was the wonder of results-based total deregulation.

With that in mind, being stuck with the American standard for protein and calories was relatively lucky. If Recluse had even the slightest shred of optimism about anything besides his own designs for world domination, of course.

Such was how he came to be glowering at his tray of 'food', and considering whether to raise tariffs on foreign imports of low-quality foodstuffs when he returned to the nation he ruled. Today was not exactly going entirely well.

[Free to an evil home!]

[war-wounds.livejournal.com]

There was nothing Ratchet was looking forward to less after a morning spent defending the validity of inorganic life than going through yet another organic refueling period. If this place was trying to drive him crazy, it was making a good start.

Glaring down at his usual pile of vegetation (now with the addition of a 'tofu-dog' thanks to the nurse) he heaved a sigh. Even cheap motor oil would be preferable to ingesting this nonsense three times a day. Too bad that would probably kill him. Wouldn't it? Ratchet turned to his neighbor. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know what the lethal dose of motor oil is for a human, would you?"

[loyal-soldier.livejournal.com]

622 only had to enter the mess hall to instantly remember what 'hamburgr' and 'hot-dog' meant. The smell alone was enough to prove that they were incredibly bad for anyone with a digestive system, but would taste amazing. True, he didn't have the highest standards, no one who'd lived off of dried rations for weeks before could be said to even have middling standards, but he was suddenly more looking forward to eating than he'd been three seconds ago.

He decided to try a little bit of just about every condiment they had, the nurse telling him the names of each that he was sure to forget--the tastes would all blend together before he could discern which was which--and made sure he also procured a heaping salad just to be safe. They said that was the healthiest option, and while he had no way to tell, not knowing what was in Earth greens, it was always a fair bet that as long as it wasn't poisonous to outsiders, local foods described as 'salads' would always be the healthiest option, provided it wasn't prefaced with 'meat' or 'heat attack' and whoever made it had washed all the pesticides off first.

With food procured and his mood therefore improved, he sat down to eat, watching the doors of the mess hall, curious to see if there were any new prisoners he didn't recognize.

[Free!]

[mistressmadgirl.livejournal.com]

Agatha, by contrast, wasn't paying a great deal of attention to her surroundings now that she'd piled her tray with one of each new thing- she was a little suspicious of the meat supposedly made out of vegetables, but curious too, and it had apparently been requested so presumably it had something to recommend it, right?

The point was that she just wanted to eat and think, and possibly sketch some things out on her napkin. She did not want to have to pay attention to seating arrangements, so she didn't, thus missing out entirely on the familiar prisoner across from her.

[autophoenix.livejournal.com]

Surprisingly, Claire had enjoyed arts and crafts. Enough to keep one of those marker-colored paper fortune tellers in the pocket of her sweatpants to tape up in her room later. Which … sure, was a little bit of a blow to her ego, but it was partially thanks to Elena, at least. She was nice, probably not crazy, and overall, Claire could imagine worse people to spend arts and crafts time getting to know. More than that, she seemed to have enough in common with Claire to make it a little less painful. It was surprisingly difficult to transition out of the comfort of the activity back into the mood where she'd be ready to deal with the institute again.

That fact alone worried her -- she'd gotten comfortable. Which, sure, was a good thing in terms of alleviating some of the stress and worry that the previous couple of days had put on her, but was bad news in terms of being ready to handle this place. It felt like she was just accepting some kind of assimilation. And it made her spitefully shrug off the hand of a nurse who guided her back to the cafeteria for lunch. The last thing she wanted to do was become obedient and comfortable there. It was like accepting defeat and Claire wasn't going to accept anything less than freedom and a damn good explanation.

Despite all her insistence, she grabbed a hamburger and took a seat. She needed to find Peter and assure him that she was okay. And assure him that, while she hadn't necessarily been planning on it, she'd gone out with someone the previous night. The fact that it was Elle might even get him to explain why he'd been talking to her earlier that morning. After noting that he, apparently, hadn't made it into the cafeteria yet, she went to find a table to sit down, picking at her fries with a kind of bitterness that was still bleeding over from her realization that she'd become so freaking docile because she'd gotten to talk to a normal person during a normal activity that almost felt like she'd gotten to go back to her life in Odessa.

Except that it was nothing like that. Because she was in a mental institution. And she knew that it would only take one peek at Sylar or Elle or any of the other monsters there to remind her that there was nothing normal about it.

[ For Peter. ]

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Seeing Elle again had taken such a toll (emotionally, he hadn't been ready to see her again; even if he was glad that her death hadn't lasted, the implications of what Landel had done and the reliving of those memories had not been easy to bear) that Peter had decided to keep to himself for the second shift.

His shower had been nice; the hot water was a good relaxant, and it had been far too easy to just close his eyes and try to forget about everything. Not that that was a proper solution, nor did it last for very long. He'd moved out to the Sun Room after that, to think over the girl's presence here.

There were just so many unpredictable variables about Elle. She knew a future version of himself, but said future self had run away from her, which could easily mean she was bad news. It sounded like she was connected to the Company in some way, not to mention she hadn't been against teaming up with Sylar—prior to her death by his hands, at least. Adding in the way she'd seemed to get some weird excitement out of shocking him, not to mention how she'd had a thing for running her hands all over him, and it made for a pretty weird package.

But at the same time, she had died under his watch, and that wasn't something he could just ignore. He had let Sylar crack her head open like an egg and take her power, and nothing would undo that, not even her return.

His mind was just full of a series of conflicting thoughts, to the point that he didn't really want to address any of them. And so Peter trudged back into the cafeteria in a slight daze, letting the nurse herd him toward the food line. He still didn't have much of an appetite, but he grabbed a burger and some fries nonetheless. He was going to have to force it.

Upon searching the cafeteria, his first thought was to locate Sylar. As much as he hated being within a five-foot radius of the man, he felt like he needed to make sure the murderer wasn't planning anything. Did he knew that Elle was back yet? Peter hoped not.

He didn't find Sylar, but he did find Claire. As much as he hated to admit it, this whole mess with Elle coming back from the dead had forced his niece to the back of his mind. Forcing back his guilt (there was too much to worry about, all the time), Peter headed straight for her. He needed to hear about how her night had been, and possibly fill her in, if it seemed like she was in a good enough state to hear it.

"Claire," he greeted as he took the seat across from the girl. "How did things go last night?" This part, at least, was easy.

[ryuuzaki]

By the time L's conversation with his new acquaintance had reached its natural conclusion, it was too late for him to return to his room to retrieve his journal--and Javert's notes--from the locked desk drawer. The nurse insisted that, as lunch was about to begin, his focus would be elsewhere, and that the journal could therefore wait until after he'd eaten--"You're so thin, Daniel! We need to get some meat on these bones!" Putting up a mild protest got him nowhere, and he had to admit to himself that, in spite of his deteriorating mood, remaining calm and biding his time was preferable to losing an indeterminate amount of time and focus to sedation.

He loaded his plate at the salad bar and also accepted some fried potatos, but the meal, the hot dogs and hamburgers, held almost no appeal for him. Not many of the other patients had reached the cafeteria yet, so, with the broad choice of seating, he took a place well apart from anyone else. He knew that the emtpy seats would fill in; still, he hoped that he could keep conversations private. Maybe he would catch up with Howell, or let Lunge know about the information he'd received. He kept one eye on the line, prepared to wave either of them over.

He was raising the third bite of raspberry-vinaigrette-drenched spinach to his mouth when someone else pre-empted his plans.

[Mello.]

[swornandbroken.livejournal.com]

The latest announcement rated a token eye-roll from Mello at how the Head Arsehole persisted in talking to the prisoners as if they were toddlers. 'Yum,' really? In the cafeteria, he got a few chips, and a hamburger he knew he'd probably only eat half of, if that. He looked around for an empty table and spotted L by himself. L, who would know, and probably faster than Matt had, that something was off about Mello, but they needed to have the sort of conversation impossible to conduct over the bulletin board. Their last encounter hadn't gone well. Mello wasn't optimistic about this one. L had had a knack for making him feel disapproved of even before they'd messed with his brain.

You have to do this, and it's ridiculous to feel reluctant, he told himself. If anyone had managed to find the answers he needed, it would be L. Mello had utter faith in that much.

He went over to the table, but didn't claim a seat yet. "Ryuuzaki. I've been meaning to talk to you." He took a quick, instinctive look around to make sure no one was within easy eavesdropping distance, and skipped the small talk, tackling the simpler topic first. "Have you ever had a visitor?"

[freewill]

There was a certain irony in the fact that Sam and Dean refused to believe that he was an angel when at least one of them had trusted the word of a demon at one point or another. It wasn't that Castiel could necessarily hold a grudge, however. This whole situation was too odd and disorienting for anyone to believe more than they had to. As an angel, he was used to accepting things on faith, but even he had lately learned to tread more carefully. Caution was required when you no longer had the powers of the divine on your side.

He had spent the second "shift," as the nurse had called it, sitting in the room with the sunlight. Staring up through the glass toward the clouds, he had struggled to form some sort of plan. But with each passing minute, he only became more impatient. Whether he had been taken back in time or not was still unclear, but regardless of when he was, there was a point where he needed to be, where the world was on the brink of the Apocalypse and there were people who he refused to let down.

But it occurred to him that if this Dean was from the past, there was still a chance that the one he knew had in fact said yes to Michael.

And so he had been forced back to a place where he could be of no help at all, where his powers were gone and he could not even ensure that the two brothers did not let go of that one thing he'd rebelled to keep: free will. It did seem like the sort of terrible trick that Michael would play on him, and perhaps that explained the fake name, as well: his marking on all of this. It was so arrogant, so confident, that Castiel was almost banking on it at this point.

Worst of all was that he had no way of knowing how to get his powers back (if he could at all—that could very well have been self-caused, he knew) and out of this place. He had not realized how crippled he would feel with all of his powers gone; the possibility of losing it all had never even occurred to him.

And yet he hardly felt human. He was stuck in some in-between state where he didn't get the benefits of either side.

Not that sulking or moping would get him anywhere. That was a quality he despised, and so the offer from a nurse to move elsewhere was appreciated, strangely enough. Even the illusion of movement was better than sitting around and doing nothing.

As he entered the cafeteria, his first course of action was to search out the Winchesters again (they had been cut off far too quickly earlier), and yet he saw neither. Castiel started to turn back toward the entrance, fully prepared to linger near the door until one of them came through, but that was when he caught a whiff of the current meal that was being served.

His stomach twisted painfully. He was hungry. Famine had nothing to do with it this time, however; this hunger was not nearly as intense as that time, but it was still insistent. Especially since hamburgers happened to be on the menu. Castiel fought back a strange build-up of saliva in his mouth as a nurse caught the look in his eye and led him to the food line.

By the time he got through, he had about six of the hamburgers piled on a plate (as much as he'd been able to fit without compromising the structural integrity), which he held carefully in both hands as he made another scan of the room for Sam or Dean. With still no sign of them, Castiel sat himself down in an empty seat and watched the door while he took his first bite of the succulent cow meat.

It was... delicious.

[For his bro.]

[affictitious]

Though Gabriel had only been alive less than twenty-four hours (for the second time), he'd learned some things.

1. He was not enjoying this whole pseudo-human thing.
2. Sam Winchester was still a dick.
3. He had no idea, time-wise, where he was.
4. The probability of him finding out who the hell had brought him back to life was quickly dropping to zero.

And that was about it. Despite being an absolute master at hiding masking his deep, inner torment, it was getting harder to keep a smile on a face and a wordless holy hymn singing in his heart. The last thing an archangel liked was being controlled - simply because, since Lucifer's Fall, they hadn't been. It was just an absent Father, two sides, and no authority figure to shake a very large and prominent finger at them as He sent down some good ol' fashioned vengence. Now it was crazy guy versus a random collection of humans (and, apparently, demi-gods), that same crazy guy being the proverbial authority figure, and...

Okay, he was giving up on that metaphor. It wasn't going anywhere.

The point was: he was ready to go now. Anytime, you know. And whether or not he felt more comfortable possessing the body of some poor bastard, being chained to his vessel was kind of, you know, taking away his free will.

Which he liked. It kind of coincided with the whole appreciation of humanity. Not to mention how they'd showed him how above his brothers they could be; that point had been especially nailed in with his own blade.

Uncomfortable in his (vessel's) own skin for a moment, he rubbed two fingers over his heart.
If there was some universal lesson to be taken in what had been happening to him for the last few hours, consider him happy to throw up his arms and give up. It was beyond him, if there even was a point besides torture.

He watched the swing of his nurse's hips with a vague interest as he followed her to the cafeteria for a second time; upon entering, he wrinkled his nose. All of the sweet, wonderful smells of that breakfast - he could still taste the syrup - was replaced by sour meat and warm bread. Neither appealed to him particularly, and since his binge on french toast, he wasn't feeling hungry.

Not that he should at all, but. You know. He was attempting to adjust.

The smell wasn't the only thing he felt. Someone was watching the door, and that someone...

Was good at a thousand yard stare.

A smile crept back to Gabriel's lips.

So he'd been wrong. Castiel was at the institute, still dogging the Winchesters' steps. An interesting predicament, since - presumably - Sam wouldn't even recognize him. The chance of him knowing what was going on was slim to none, of course (after all, if an archangel didn't know...) but would still be more than he knew to see where in time his brother was. Or had come from.

"Why, if it isn't Castiel!" he greeted with as much exuberance as a tight family member would give to a sibling they hadn't seen in ages; upon taking his seat across from the fellow angel, his smile had transformed into a grin. "A fun place like this is the last place I'd expect to see you. Still stalking Bonnie and Clyde?"

[scientist-skye.livejournal.com]

All things considered, Ema was glad that her interview with Mr. Javert was over. Her M-U was an uncomfortable topic all around, and having to talk about it calmly and clinicly was both painful and exhausting. Now that she had accomplished her duty to the greater good by passing the information along to the prosecutor man who was building a case, all she really wanted to do was let the issue and its corresponding feelings and memories go for awhile.

However, even while feeling miserable and tired, Ema couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself and more than a little vindicated. She had learned to fight through and push forward, and those were skills that seemed to serve her well here.

Regardless, it was now time for lunch and a reunion with someone she hadn't even met yet. As promised, Ema stood near the entrance and waited for this Kay person, hoping that the new-old friend would be able to take her mind off everything for at least one shift today.

[KAAAAAAAY! ♥ ]

[stealthetruth.livejournal.com]

The talk with Kinda Cute Kaito had been fun; it was nice to hang out with him and make herself a new pin (sure, just out of cardboard and glitter and a fuzzy pipecleaner to keep it attached to her collar, but pin!), and know that she didn't have to worry about figuring things out until lunch, when she would get to meet up with--

"Ema!" she squealed, catching sight of the other girl (looking kinda a little younger-- man, time travel? They would have to talk about that!) and waving wildly. "Oh man, it is totally good to see a familiar face," she chirped, grinning, as she got closer to the girl. "You doin' okay here?"

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

So Zack hadn't picked the best shower buddy. Then again, he wasn't the one who had decided to stand by the scarred guy, so it wasn't really his fault to start with. It was hard for him to understand how some people could go through their lives being annoyed by everything. Talk about ulcer-inducing! Sure, he'd been through some pretty terrible things, and he could have spent his life (or... second life, whatever this was) being bitter and angry, but where would that get him?

He knew where it had gotten Sephiroth, and that was the last thing he wanted to happen to him. Angeal and Genesis had succumbed to the same thing, to an extent. Not that all of them didn't have good reason, but...

Ahh, why was he thinking about this? He had to focus on what was happening here and now, and that was a meeting with Aidou. He was glad the teen had thought to put up a message on the bulletin for him, as he could have very well forgotten otherwise. It was a good thing they were going to talk, though, since Zack wanted to know if tonight would be spent with the basement crew or with Cloud and company.

Honestly, he'd gotten more curious about the basement after learning about the rings and realizing that even Yuffie hadn't been down there. She was the one who'd been here for the longest, so the fact that even she hadn't checked it out yet made it sound more promising to him. Now all he needed to do was figure out if Aidou or Sasuke had one of those rings, as he certainly wasn't against spilling some blood to use it.

Sure, there were risks involved, but that was how life worked, and Zack was willing to give it a shot. Nodding to himself, he shook his hair out, trying to get rid of the excess dampness from the shower on his way to get some lunch. After getting a plate with both a hamburger and hot dog on it (the best of both worlds, right? He was a tall guy, he needed to eat a lot), the soldier then found an empty spot and waited there for his lunch date.

[idolism]

It spoke of how absolutely degrading the place was, but in truth, Aidou had had more important things on his mind than the fact that he had to be undressed around a bunch of other naked males. Normally such a humiliation would’ve been at the top of the list. Aidou just couldn’t stretch his patience to include it on top of everything else he was juggling--it wasn’t like he could stick his nose up at cleanliness.

There was that at least, being clean. Clean and well-fed was the best physical state he could expect.

By time lunch rolled around, he was as ready as ever to return to business, and in this case, it was meeting with Zack. After Sasuke, an update felt even more necessary. The man in question was not hard to spot, and the noble didn’t hesitate to take a seat at his table. His nurse was at least good for fetching his food for him in these instances, not that he had grown any fonder of hamburgers and hotdogs for all the times he’d already eaten them. He had to supplement the blood he took in any way he could, however.

"You look well enough," said Aidou as pulled out a seat. He’d never been fond of the 'hey, how are you's, either. "Did you accomplish your goal last night?"

[dualistic]

All things considered, that had been the most interesting conversation Harvey had ever carried on in a communal shower. He was both suspicious of and intrigued by Gant, but more than that, he couldn't help remaining stuck on the fact that there were so many patients here who had a connection to law enforcement. It was just one after another, and more kept coming in...

Drying off and getting changed improved his mood slightly. His nurses had even let him get a change of bandages on his side, though they hadn't let him wrap them himself. Harvey couldn't argue that point too much, seeing how he wasn't exactly versed in first aid, at least not as well as the staff here.

As he entered the cafeteria he found himself actually searching someone out, which he hadn't really done since Jason had gone and disappeared. Though the room was still pretty empty, and Lana was nowhere to be found. Great. The one time he actually wanted to talk to someone, they weren't around. Harvey didn't think she was gone or anything, but she clearly hadn't made it out of her shower yet.

Which left him to just get his goddamn vitamin shake and sit on his own. He had plans to put up a bulletin post about this whole law enforcement issue, though. He knew people in that occupation were secretive by nature, but he'd probably get some responses and that would give him a better idea of what possible correlation there might be.

It occurred to him that he was investigating again, but he needed something to do with his time now that there weren't really any chances for revenge left for him. It was either this or languish in half-suicidal thoughts, which he wasn't too interested in doing at the moment.

[For Tim Drake.]

[thirdboywonder.livejournal.com]

Tim pondered over the conversation he'd had with Ollie. He didn't know if the man would actually take him up on his offer and show up to get a map or anything that night. Even with Ollie being younger, he was still...older than Tim. And who wanted to run around with some unknown teenager? Tim knew he looked younger than he was, too. He had no visible merits. It would be Ollie's loss if he didn't take him up on his offer, but...well, in a way, it would be Tim's loss, too.

He really needed to get with the damn program here.

He got his food and made his way over to a table. He noticed, several feet away, who was sitting there. He wanted to change his mind and go somewhere else, but when he stopped moving, the nurse who had been nearby started towards him again. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, and he decided to pick the evil he knew over the evil he didn't want to.

Anyway, something was off about Harvey, so maybe he wasn't quite as bad as he could be? Tim had no idea.

He sat a seat away so he was diagonal from the onetime DA, and pretended not to notice. As he took a bite of his burger, he remembered that he hadn't given Harvey his usual name. He'd used "Gary Summers" instead, so that Harvey wouldn't be able to track him at all. It was a good thing he had a memory for all the crap he told people. He wasn't a fan of lying, but you did what you had to, after all.

[ai-no-minako.livejournal.com]

It was only lunchtime? That was strange, it felt like the day had already lasted far longer, but maybe that was just because of the weirdness of this place in general. After all, where else could she talk to someone who claimed to be a non-human in a human body who wasn't some kind of weird monster out to destroy the earth? According to him, at least, so she'd probably have to hold her judgment in the matter until she saw how he actually behaved.

Well, anyway. There was food, even if it was again heavy and greasy food. Minako wrinkled her nose at the assortment of hamburgers, tempted, but decided to be good. She had to stay in top form, even if she wasn't playing volleyball here. Fighting off monsters, should she run into any, was a little more important than even that. Instead she decided to try one of the "veggie burgers," taking a salad and some fruit to go along with it before going in search of an empty seat.

There were certainly quite a few to choose from at the moment and she eyed the options thoughtfully. Why were so many of them so... weird? Maybe they weren't supposed to be human, either -- like that one guy who looked like he hadn't slept in a month, or the guy having a love affair with his hamburger, or the one doing his best mummy impression. Yeah, okay, she was sitting at an empty table.

[for the Ace Defective]

[whos-da-man.livejournal.com]

Sometimes the days were better than the nights. Junpei decided this as he loaded up his burger with ketchup, mustard and relish. For one, the burgers at this place were almost as good as Wild Duck Burgers'. After that, there was the fact that during the day there were no creepy elongated arms with evil beady eyes attached to them trying to make him the star of the latest hentai craze. What was it with this place at night and its need to stock up on hentai creatures? At least he hadn't run into any tentacle monsters. Yet.

...and he so should not have thought that. It's like the walls have ears and they could hear his thoughts. He really should learn how to do that whole clear-the-mind thing. Tabular Rosa or something like that. Probably not.

All that taken into consideration, the best thing that made the day better than the night was the chance to talk to hot chicks without wondering when something was going to try to eat them. Because then he'd have to be prepared to save her from the monsters, being all manly, and really hope it wasn't something that had him shrieking and hiding behind said hot chick. Not ever hot chick was Mitsuru and could just, like, stare down that Scary-Ass Bear.

The chick Junpei was eying as he left the food line didn't look like she could stare the SAB down, but she was sitting alone and probably new; he would have remembered seeing her around if she wasn't. He stopped at her table and slid into the seat across from her.

"Sup." Junpei flashed the blonde a charming grin. "You know that whole global warming thing people like to talk about? Ever get tired of being blamed for it?"

[heroesdontshave]

Welp. Snow was right about one thing: Asking questions and getting info definitely wasn't his thing. Here it was, mid-day, and he still hadn't figured out what was really going on around here. Well... He guessed it didn't really matter either way. One thing doesn't work, you just move on to the next is all. If asking around didn't work, he'd just have to go with his instincts! When in doubt, a man goes with his gut! And Snow's gut told him... he was hungry.

Erm, wait. That didn't really help. ...I mean, he was kinda starving, yeah, but...

Like she had been reading his mind, that lady from earlier came over and started talking about getting some lunch. Looked like she was just planning to lead him around all day. Still, Snow only hesitated for a moment before just going along and following her again. Why not? Just go with the flow, right? He'd figure out what was going on eventually. Until then he'd just have to-- Holy smokes, look at this place! It was freaking huge room full of... people. He hadn't imagined they'd gathered this many people for this little extermination experiment they had going or whatever it was. What a bunch of sick bastards.

Suddenly, the woman was there again, shoving a full tray into his hands (guess he'd been staring at the people a little longer than he'd realized) and telling him to go find somewhere to sit and eat. Tch. What was with this lady? I mean, if she was a soldier, he'd know he should be resisting or something, but when she just gave him that big smile like she was just here looking out for him and... Fine. Doing stuff on an empty stomach sucked anyway. So Snow just sat himself down in a nearby seat, attention suddenly focused on the food more than anyone who might be around him.

...What the hell was this? It was food, right? Smelled like food. But he'd never seen anything like this. Must've been some local delicacy from whatever town this place was in. Still, it should be recognizable, shouldn't it? ...Whatever. As long as it filled him up, right?

[Izaya!]

[propheteer]

Spending the morning with tall, dark, and grumpy in the sun room hadn't been nearly as productive as Izaya had hoped. He'd managed to pick up a few notes about Kurogane's behavior, but... Well, no matter. The bulletin board had proved amusement enough, and another stop at improved his mood tremendously. He hummed tunelessly as he followed the nurse to the cafeteria once more.

The nurse positively insisted that he try the hamburgers, so he humored her and took one, along with a small side of fries. Lunch in hand, it was time to find something to do to pass the time.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much to distinguish one patient from the other aside from looks; he spotted Castiel again, sitting with a pile of hamburgers, but he couldn't put names with any other faces that were present just yet. If he didn't have an advantage in choosing who to sit with, he wouldn't choose at all. He would select at random.

Izaya started making his way through the room, and came to a sudden stop partway through, at a seat across form a blond foreigner. He turned to face the man and repeated the exact question he'd asked Kurogane earlier, "Is this seat taken?"

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

The shower (during which Indy didn’t talk to anybody; there were limits on times even he wanted to gather information in a place like this) was refreshing, and when the shift changed, a rebandaged and clean-shaven Indiana Jones made his way to the cafeteria and found himself a hamburger and a seat by himself. The bulletin board exchanges had cleared up most of the loose ends from last night (everyone was all right; no one had gotten anywhere; clear enough, although that latter point raised the question of why the hell not), but he was still hoping to run across some of the participants in the botched expedition. If only to confirm that he wasn’t going crazy.

He took a bite of the burger (done through but not too charred; not bad) and thought. That Captain Kirk fellow had given him plenty to think about. Right now, though, Indy pushed theories of alternate worlds and patient disappearances aside and focused on last night again. It was clear that his strategy—get everyone you can together and hope enough of them show up for a reasonable team—wasn’t going to work. Too difficult to coordinate, and traveling all together made them easy targets. What they really needed, if they wanted to get the basement or anywhere else explored, was probably smaller, more autonomous units that didn’t need him for direction. That had been Ryuuzaki’s strategy too (assuming he didn’t actually want a personal task force, of which assertion Indy still wasn’t completely convinced). The problem was the right leaders. To manage one of the groups in such a potentially dangerous situation, you’d need smarts, fighting skills, a cautious nature but the ability to act quickly in a crisis—in other words, Indy thought modestly, you’d need to be Indiana Jones. That was always the question in situations like this. Luckily, just like here, there were usually competent people around who could step up if needed. Usually.

[for Peter and Scott!]

[vstheworld]

Sitting down with Agatha for a bit had been good for Scott. For one, it reminded him that yes, ladyparts as they existed on actual ladies were not scary or out to get him. For another, the talk had just been kind of nice and casual. Scott felt like he didn't get nearly enough of that kind of talk in Landel's. Even with the people he considered his new friends, a lot of their talk inevitably just ended up being about escape plans and terrible nights and such. Not that he thought they ought to just stop trying to escape, but still. When could they all just stop, sit down, hang out, and shoot the breeze like normal people, he wondered?

Probably not today, at least, Scott thought with some disappointment when he spotted the (now-shaven) face of Indiana Jones nearby in the cafeteria. He was pretty sure that after a night like theirs, now probably wouldn't be the best of times to start swapping funny stories from home or complaining about the state of comic-book-to-movie adaptations nowadays. Still, he wasn't about to avoid the guy; despite what had been said on the board, Scott did still want to make sure Indy was okay, and to assure Indy in turn that he wasn't stuck in a constant fetal position after the whole boobs thing. Besides, even now that he was on more casual terms with the guy, Scott still had to think: who could say no to sitting down with Indiana Jones?

"Uh, hey." Scott waved with a hesitant smile as he came up to Indy's table. There was a brief, awkward silence from Scott before he set his tray down and slid into the seat opposite. "Soooooo. New way to the kitchen, then?"

[madeinthehrl]

Soma supposed she should actually open her journal for the first time ever and make a note of the date. For the first time in her life, she had managed to have a conversation with E-0057 that hadn't ended with either of them bleeding, infuriated, or contemplating their own existences. Irritating as he was, she had to admit to herself that this morning's meeting had actually been informative. And it was reassuring to know that at least she wasn't the only one here from her world.

But as she departed the Sun Room for lunch, tying off her wet hair in a braid to keep it out of her face, her thoughts turned toward the friends she had made here. It was obvious Senna wasn't telling her something, but what? Come to think of it, neither Hokuto nor Alita had responded to her post. But that was all right, wasn't it? She didn't know Hokuto as well as she did the others, and Alita wasn't really the sort to respond unless she really needed to, was she?

The responses her mind conjured up were troubling. Soma tried to push them out of her head, choosing a veggie burger and some coleslaw and finding a relatively clear table to sit at. Anyway, Meche could probably clear it all up for her.

[for Meche!]

[sheisthecause.livejournal.com]

So she'd managed to sleep through another night. Meche couldn't say she was impressed with herself when she woke up. At least it didn't seem like she'd missed too much--there was talk on the bulletin board about doing something with Arts and Crafts, but she didn't want to weigh in on that until she'd had a chance to discuss it with Senna--but still, it was frustrating to have wasted the night again like that. She didn't really do much with the morning, either; just had a quiet breakfast and a long shower. At least that went some distance toward reminding her that she was actually in the Land of the Living.

She was glad she'd managed to set up a lunch date with Soma, at least. That had been something to look forward to all morning. As soon as she got to the cafeteria, Meche got herself a veggie burger (good for whoever had suggested that idea) and a salad and looked around for her friend. It didn't take long to spot her sitting by herself at a mostly empty table. Meche hurried over.

"Hi," she greeted, smiling as she set her tray down and took the seat across from Soma. "How's your day been so far?"

[neuepolitik.livejournal.com]

((For Sora))

The conversation with Gilbert still weighed heavily on Ludwig's mind. No matter how the nation turned the questions over and over in his mind, no answers met his inquiries. He had no explanation for why Hungary would act the way she had- nor why Austria would wish not to see them, nor even still why all those things would be said of Prussia. It was both close and not at all near the truth, at the same time a glimpse of what could be with a healthy dose of the utterly absurd.

Yet at the same time, that was just a secondary problem. The primary concern was why all of them had been chosen. The more Ludwig considered this, the more certain he was that they lacked any underlying theme or commonality to explain why all of them would be chosen. It couldn't be because of world dominance, it couldn't be because of power, or of declining strength, or geographic location, or anything else that could put them all in the same category. It seemed as though they had all been chosen at random, and yet that made no sense either. If they had been chosen randomly, then he would have expected to see other nations. Yet there clearly was not. And then there was the realization that none of them seemed to have been here for long...

Ludwig sighed as he slumped onto his chair, bringing out his notebook and grumbling under his breath. All those notes and he still wasn't certain what was going on. He had none of the crucial clues he needed in order to make a proper decision about what was going on, and he also lacked an obvious way of getting the information he required. There just wasn't an obvious plan of attack, and that grated on his nerves. How exactly was he supposed to come up with an escape plan when he didn't have the information he needed? It was frustrating, and the soldier sighed as he put his pen away. This wasn't going to help. He needed to think clearly, not get lost in petty anger.

...yet the food was not going to be of any help. He stared down at his plate, scowling at the hamburgers with a murderous expression. Alfred F. Jones would have a wonderful time with the things, but after a few too many times of having to try understanding Alfred while he scarfed down burger after burger, Ludwig honestly had no taste for them. Later he'd get a salad or something, but for now, he just pushed his tray away and frowned. At some point, he'd have to deal with both America and Russia. But that thought made his stomach twist into painful knots...

[lighthearted]

Sora was relieved that he had happened to run into Roxas, since it seemed like they still had so much to talk about. They'd sort of talked around a lot of things (Riku, mainly), but Sora had discovered that his Other maybe needed a bit of direction in how to handle the nights here. All he knew was that he wasn't going to let Roxas run around on his own, especially when he'd been over-sleeping. That was always a bad sign, so he didn't think it was unreasonable that he wanted to keep an eye on the other boy.

It didn't seem likely that he could get Riku and Roxas to team up, though, which meant he was going to have to tell his best friend to go off on his own this time. With Kairi, preferably. Well, Kairi could come with them, but he wasn't sure of how Riku would feel about that. Why did this have to be so complicated, anyway?

He was going to have to start worrying about how to run the club soon, too. Still, that could probably be handled more tomorrow, once the decision had been set in stone. No one had spoken up about wanting to take the position so far, which was making his new leadership role seem more and more likely. Sora knew that he was a good fit for the job when it came down to it, and yet he still couldn't stop himself from worrying. He just wanted to do a good job.

He'd already been through this, though, and so he tried to force himself to focus on lunch instead. A hot dog sounded pretty tasty right about then, and so he grabbed one, trying to keep his meal light after Venom's warning earlier. He wasn't sure why he'd taken it to heart to such an extent, but it was probably a good thing, right?

Once he had his food, the boy started to search the room for somewhere to sit. He didn't see Kairi or Riku around yet, so he figured he'd take the chance to meet someone new. Even though he already had a lot of friends here, it was always a good idea to meet more people, both because it was interesting and because it made sure that knowledge could come in from a bunch of different places.

As Sora wandered, he couldn't help noticing a man with a journal in front of him and a very pained expression on his face. He looked a little queasy, too. Pausing, he started to draw closer to the stranger's seat, giving him a concerned glance. "Are you okay...?"

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

_{[free, no limit]}

The news had not been good so far. Although she, Kurogane, and Fai had made solid plans to reunite that night, allowing a chance for further discussion, there were still many threads left hanging. Not to mention there were people asking after the meeting, which she was almost positive meant them. And Yukari-san… Yukari-san was gone now.

More things were going wrong than right.

Origami was a perfectly nice past time, but Tsubaki just hadn’t felt very inspired during Arts and Crafts and she had left what creations she’d completed behind. As pleased as her nurse was with her effort, she wasn’t finding it easy to reach a relaxed state and focus on the day time‘s little activities. Her appetite hadn’t grown much, either, but she at least had to eat something. Staying healthy wasn’t optional as origami.

Taking a seat, the girl ducked her head over her meal. It felt too much like hiding, even though she kept her eye out for friends and familiar faces. But… but… She couldn’t shake the sneaking feeling that the more time passed with the Head Doctor’s words over her head and no plan in motion, the more of a liar she became with her fellow prisoners. This time, maybe she did deserve the title, just a little. Or a lot, depending on who asked.

[laguz-decoy.livejournal.com]

Ranulf, rubbing his eyes as he was lead into the cafeteria, let out a loud yawn. His nurse gave him a disgruntled look as she took him to the food line, recited her usual "behave yourself" speech and stalked off to escort other patients. The laguz rolled his eyes, letting out another yawn as he piled his plate with the meat selection of the hour through a sleepy stare.

Instead of choosing to explore the Institute (the doors apparently unlocked every night) or deciding to simply go to sleep, Ranulf had stayed awake for a good portion of the early morning hours and tested his limits. He noticed his heightened eyesight and sense of smell returned almost simultaneously with the familiar "click" that sounded through the room whenever the doors allowed access to the supposed horrors that lurked in the hallways all evening.

As a result he'd napped through breakfast and morning activities, only awakened by Flo directing him to the next portion of the day. He'd woken up enough now to be able to eat and, as he exited the lunch line, cast his half-lidded gaze over the sections of tables to find a place to sit. His face immediately lit up when he noticed Tsubaki hunched over her meal in a nearby seat.

Ranulf walked over quickly and plopped down in the seat across from her, offering a smile and a greeting.

"Hey. Who are you hiding from?" He asked, a curious grin spread across his face.

[arrowonline.livejournal.com]

The cafeteria wasn't too full when Oliver found himself ushered in, and the line to get food was, so far, relatively short. Even so, he took his time over the salad bar, using the opportunity to appraise the room's layout and staff complement, and look over the inmate population. He wasn't surprised not to see anyone he recognized yet, all two of them. He was more surprised at the apparent age of some of the people present. He'd noticed it in the sun room, but it hadn't quite sunk in yet just how many people there couldn't be more than twenty.

If the entire situation hadn't already been five different kinds of disturbing, that would have been so on its own.

Eventually, one of the nurses noticed his dawdling, and ushered him away towards the table. With a number of people presumably not yet arrived, he had a fair choice of seating, and found someplace with a decent view of the door, the better to keep an eye on the people entering.

At the very least, it would give him a better idea of the demographics.

[stlg13bomber.livejournal.com]

One of the demographics sat down next to him without any request or warning. "Great lunch today, huh?" Carter asked gleefully, organizing a hamburger nearly smothered in ketchup. The wonderful hot shower had left him a little more sedated than usual and the food took his interest off pestering the nurses with 'what's that?' questions every five minutes.

And here was a new person! A person who actually looked like him and wasn't an alien or a Japanese or some other strange nonhuman creature (unless he was and was just in disguise, which was totally reasonable around here). Perhaps he would want to talk to carter.

No, that was silly. Of course he would want to talk to Carter. Everyone loved talking.

[avengingfists.livejournal.com]

Although she was still a little unsure of what to make of the conversation she had just had, Ilia had enjoyed her time with Anise. She'd learned even more valuable information, but much of it couldn't be verified until night fell. All these things about monsters and magic, it really seemed too bizarre for this place to be Earth. However, so far both Anise and Leela had thought they might be somewhere on planet Earth, and specifically in America. But the scientist was going to hold that as merely hearsay until she had real, solid proof.

She really had been having much too nice of a time with little Anise. When the Head Doctor announced it was time for lunch she was almost disappointed. Really, Ilia, it was just origami! Shaking her head, she allowed her nurse to hold onto her little creatures while they moved on to lunch. She made one quick stop before entering the cafeteria--just a small detour to the bulletin to slip in a note that would hopefully be vague enough to throw off the institute yet still alert her friends. If they were here at all.

She had skipped breakfast this morning in her initial confusion, but now she regretted it. Lunch smelled almost too good to be true! Real hamburgers and hot dogs, comfort foods she hadn't indulged in since their leap through the Time Gate. It didn't much matter to her if it was just cafeteria food, she'd had enough of that in the military academy it was almost more enjoyable than the name brand stuff found planet-side.

Ilia was tempted to get the full beef patties for her meal but stopped herself short. She didn't usually feel the need to watch her figure, but if she was going to be stuck here for any amount of time it would probably be in her best interest to watch what she ate. Grabbing a turkey burger, coleslaw and some fruit from the salad bar, Ilia sat down and started in on her meal. The only thing that could make this perfect would be a nice, cold beer to wash it all down. But a glass of ice water would have to make due for now.

[spandexorgtfo.livejournal.com]

"...oh, and here's Elaine, Mr. Clarke! She's new, now, so make her feel welcome!"

Kratos managed a nod the nurse's way and sat down woodenly across from 'Elaine'. While the nurses seemed to enjoy pushing him toward new people in an attempt to get him to socialize, he knew that there was a second motive this time around: making sure he avoided confrontation with Raine and Rita. Who knew, after all? He might just decide lunch would be the perfect time to actually put a fork through Rita's neck. It was a smart move in his mind, even though he held no such intentions against Rita: he still wished to avoid them at all costs.

"Hello," he said awkwardly as he fumbled with his fork, trying to see if he could cut his burger in two with his left hand. Hopefully, she would have questions. Hopefully, she would take no notice (although it was hard not to) of the large, black brace strapped to his other arm. And hopefully, she was not a researcher.

[chainsaw-royal.livejournal.com]

Well, if not productive, at least the past twenty four hours weren't boring Hime. A woman with an electric rapier, a fight with a changed nurse, and now hearing how Teresa's night went - someone who summoned trains? Really? That was strange even by her standards - it almost made up for the lack of actual accomplishment. Only not really.

Hime needed to plan out for tonight - possibly find new people she could put to use with in the basement. Before that though, she could take them on a run to the supply closet as something of a test of compatibility. First she had to meet such people though.

Grabbing a salad, the Royal took a seat near the door so she could assess those coming in.

[Free]

[mind-the-sukima.livejournal.com]

Yukari was quiet, which wasn't so odd, but it had little to do with her usual lethargy and sleepiness that came when she didn't get at least fourteen hours of sleep a day. After washing quickly in the showers, she'd hid in the Sun Room away from others as she sifted through her thoughts.

Last night. Last night had been fun, she would admit. It was a perfect night to play a game, to let loose a little and fool around. There was just one little dark spot though that threatened to spread and ruin the whole of the experience of it. For once, rather than be a distraction, the youkai wanted to be distracted and think of something else. Grabbing a few things to eat, she took a position near one of the walls, away from the few others who had so far arrived, though that was sure to change as the patients all filed in. A distant look on her face, she poked at her salad.

[For Battler]

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Hamburgers. Every time Landel's served them he couldn't help but think of Ashton. Not being able to scour the cafeteria for his friend was pretty frustrating. So was not being able to look at the bulletin board. In the board's case, though, he at least had Guy to act as his eyes in some respects. But Claude still felt bad having to rely too much on other people for things when it was clear they had their own burdens to carry.

He just had to remind himself that there was the chance that Natalia would be able to heal him -- not a huge chance, no, and sometimes he had to reel himself in and make sure he kept things in perspective. But at least it was a small glimmer of hope, and a reason why he couldn't throw the towel in yet. For now, Claude just had to keep his chin up and do his best with everything.

And who knew? Maybe Dad, Ashton and Dias would come out of the woodwork today. People had a way of suddenly resurfacing, after all.

In the meantime, the thought of eating a burger didn't sit too well with Claude -- almost blasphemy for someone who loved meat as much as himself. But his stomach hadn't felt that great all day, and the thought of putting something like a burger or hot dog in there made him a little nauseated. The nurse finally picked up on this and helped him put together a simple tray of bland foods -- a piece of bread and a small salad with "plenty of soy beans for extra protein".

That, at least, sounded more manageable than something like French toast or burgers. Claude politely thanked her before letting her sit him down at a table by himself. "Just wave your hand if you need anything, and I'll be right over," she told him before walking off. Finally left alone, Claude lifted his fork and pushed his salad around. Maybe he'd start with a bite of bread first...

[For Sync and Luke.]

[godforsaken]

Today could be a good day.

After all, he got to let out a little steam last night with his little session with Spike, so it wasn't like he really had a reason to be annoyed the next morning. Leaving a job unfinished really just meant opening up the possibility for another opportunity to come, as he made sure to leave a lasting impression by the time he finished. Still, there was also the chance that he caught Spike on one of his bad days, so in a way he was also expecting the latter to impress him the next time he was ready for another confrontation.

While mildly annoyed that he'd woken up during the middle of the day, all Sync could do was shrug it off as he followed his nurse out of the room. After all, it wasn't like anything remotely useful happened during the day; even the bulletin couldn't provide any real entertainment ever since the staff decided to keep an eye on the content. In the end he just had to make do with what he had.

Fortunately, this was just one of those days where it just seemed easier to occupy himself. Not even a few yards into the cafeteria and he'd already spotted a familiar head of blond, but upon closer inspection something was definitely different with Claude. Namely, it looked like he'd suffered from some kind of accident and rendered himself blind in the process. The swordsman was as vulnerable as he could be, and it was almost unfortunate that he didn't find this out during the night.

With a grin Sync slid into the lunch line, quickly getting his own food before making his way towards Claude. He'd set his tray off to the side, making sure to remain as quiet as possible as he gathered two packets he'd set aside. Tearing open the one filled with ketchup, Sync carefully leaned over the table and drizzled a good amount right into the salad. The other, something he had specifically asked for, was filled with hot sauce, and once the other packet was emptied he'd tore that one open and slowly drizzled it down the portion of the burger where he guessed Claude would take his first bite from. The act itself only took a few short seconds before Sync retreated his arms and watched Claude expectantly.

[gargantuanlaugh.livejournal.com]

Ah, it was so nice to be clean! His hair was still a bit damp from the shower, but at least he'd have nice, presentable locks for the next day or so. He still bemoaned the lack of haircare products--really, just a little gel to get his hair into the perfect wave, that's all he asked!--but it would dry more of less the same as ever. The conversation that had come during the shower had been rather... unexpected. And definitely a bit strained. That Dent fellow needed to lighten up a bit. Well, Gant was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. He'd certainly been through a lot the night before, what with half his face and body getting all mangled like that. He was entitled to a little grumpy, pouty time. But the next time they met, Gant hoped to get a better reception. Maybe Lana would put in a good word for him.

He almost left a little message for Lana when they passed through the Sun Room, but seeing as someone had recently addressed the younger Skye sister he felt it best to wait a bit longer. And he didn't want Harvey to get suspicious for any reason. He had a feeling the man might have gotten the wrong impression of him. Really, he just wanted to make friends! Why did everyone have to give him such odd looks when he was only offering them friendly conversation? It was a mystery...

Well, he'd just have to save that note for later. In the meantime, he'd indulge in lunch! Hamburgers and hot dogs... well, it was nice to have cookout food now and again. He usually saved eating these kinds of things for, well, cookouts. Some people might say he was picky, but really, he just felt a particular mood was required for certain foods. He sighed. He'd just have to get used to it while he was here. It was a sad thought. Made him miss his outings with Udgey, too.

Sitting at an empty table, the chief started in on his fries. As much as he knew he should probably eat the meat anyway, it just didn't seem all that appetizing at the moment.

[oneman-onekill.livejournal.com]

[Gantaloupe!]

The one good thing about Landel's Institute had to be the all-you-can-eat buffets every day, every meal--well, Niikura treated them like buffets. Sometimes the cafeteria staff and the nurses gave him funny looks as he walked on by with a tray full to bursting, but just because a teenager was insane didn't mean that he still couldn't eat you out of house and home, or in this case, mental asylum and...mental asylum.

His good mood was compounded by the great heart-to-heart he'd just had with Mele; no, there really was nothing better than telling a near stranger that he was an abnormal existence and then watching the resulting train wreck with amusement. Mele had reacted much better than most people, though, so he had to give her some form of kudos.

Speaking of train wrecks, a familiar face from last night caught his eye, and Niikura's grin widened. Gant had seemed a little troubled by all the secrets told during their time in the jungle; maybe he ought to reassure him, let him know that he really was a good kid at heart and that he, like Gant, did honestly try his best to combat evil.

"Yo, Gant-san! Long time, no see, Officer!" He saluted the older man casually as he sat down, placing his tray filled with every possible food item off to the side. "Sorry I left ya on such a sour note last night. Must've been difficult, I know, dealin' with two cold-blooded killers out there in the middle of nowhere. If a chill went down your spine at any point, I just want to let ya know that that was the wind, an' not us plottin' your demise. Also..." Niikura's face grew long and solemn. "I sincerely apologize for any murders I have yet to commit."

Then he smiled, laughed, and took a bite of his first hamburger.

[Niikura, just for laughs, is speaking in Engrish English.]

[osakapwnzu.livejournal.com]

Heiji could not have gotten away from Shinichi faster if he'd booked a rocketship to the moon, he'd moved so fast at the call for lunch. The last thing he'd needed was a visit from Captain Obvious and the You Look Like Hell Brigade. Next he'd have the Don't Take All The Blame And Responsibility Police on his ass.

...they meant well. He missed them, really, but it was too dangerous if whatever was hunting him decided to jump ship for someone else.

He stared unseeing at his lunch, brow furrowed. What was he going to do about this?

[For Amaterasuuu~ ♥]

[divinebrushwork.livejournal.com]

Amaterasu was thrilled to be able to eat again so soon, but she felt genuinely confused by the morsel her nurse had placed upon her plate.
It was a hamburger? So, if it had the word 'ham' in it, did that mean it was pig meat? If it was, she had no time to sniff at it before she was ushered out into the middle of the floor to find a table to sit at and eat. After searching for a familiar face and being unsuccessful, the goddess eventually decided to move to the table closest to her. A young man was already sitting there, but this didn't bother her in the least.

She smiled at him as she set her plate down and settled into a chair. His expression was troubled, as many people seemed to be on this day. Had something happened last night to everyone, perhaps? Mori had said there were dangerous things that happened in this place.

"Hello!" Ammy greeted, flashing one of her famously-warm grins. "Okay . . . to s-sit here?"

[fuzzy-diablo.livejournal.com]

Kurt sat at his lunch table frowning and scratching his head over a very abused, very bent piece of origami paper. The nurse had let him take one of the books to lunch with him, since he was so insistent about finishing before his shower.

He'd managed to at least finish one measly seal and a rather lame tulip, but he'd wanted to get a crane done as well. Minako was Japanese, she'd totally laugh at him if he couldn't fold a crane without making it look like he'd folded it with his teeth while blind. But it was hard, suddenly having four fingers!

He shoved some hamburger in his mouth and kept trying. He would do this if he died of papercuts doing it!

[For Honey~]

[host-club-honey.livejournal.com]

Honey returned from Arts and Crafts, still dusting bits of glitter from his gray uniform and Usa-chan's soft pink fur. He hadn't finished his project, but it'd still been fun. There were lots of people in the cafeteria though, by the time he arrived, so he picked up a tray and chose a seat that was open, smiling brightly at the other boy.

"Hi!" he chirped, settling into his seat.

"Oh! Origami! What are you making?" he asked, looking curiously at the paper he'd managed to crinkle up many different ways.