Day 52: Game Room

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Lunch had taken his mind from his worries, if only for a few minutes. But after the intercom sounded and the nurses began leading patients onto the next activity, one look at the bulletin board brought everything back in full force. No replies from Ashton, Dias or Dad. By now Claude felt like he was practically counting down until the end of the day, when he was going to have to finally grapple with the real possibility that most of his friends from before Landel's, as well as his own father, had fallen victim to the institute.

And now he was going to have to deal with his mother being here on top of that. It didn't seem like a coincidence that she'd show up right when his father's whereabouts were so up in the air. But what did it mean? Why couldn't Landel leave his family out of this?

Normally, the announcement about new video games would have made him perk up, but his eyebrows only knit together with concern as his nurse led him into the game room. That didn't seem to stop her from trying to get him to unwind, though.

"Oh, come now, Thomas, you've worn that expression for most of the day!" she told him with a frown. "Why don't you have a bit of fun now that your eyes are all better? I'm sure you could use it."

The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of his "sleep studies", he darkly thought to himself. But before he could protest, his nurse had sat him down in front of one of the television screens. There was an old gaming console, one Claude had never seen before, and he glanced at her with a confused expression. "Go on," she encouraged as she placed one of the controllers in his hands. "I know how much you enjoy these kinds of things. Someone will come play with you soon, too, I'm sure. Doesn't that sound nice?"

He didn't have time to answer her, because she'd soon bustled off to tend to some of the other patients. Claude watched her leave with a sigh. He realized the daytime staff meant well, which made knowing what they turned into at night even worse to think about. But now he was just being negative for the sake of it, wasn't he?

Taking in a small breath, he reached over to the console and turned it on. As long as he was waiting for some kind of answer from the bulletin, there probably wasn't much he could do except pass the time. Claude watched the title screen appear on the television, his expression growing more curious in spite of himself. Super Mario Bros....

[For Prussia!]

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[anemptydecapo]

As irritating as his lunch company was, Venom was still wrapped in his own dilemmas to care one way or another what others thought of him. There was a fine line between attempted cheer (which, admittedly, was rare for an assassin to witness) and being a falsely cheerful blight--he wasn't required to humor the latter.

Still, even having succeeded in being left alone for the rest of the shift, the Guild Head was in no better a mood when lead to the Game Room. Somewhere during the walk, his head lowered and his hand snaked underneath his shortened bangs, resting itself over his exposed mouth and nose and staying there. Even with the cover, it still felt wrong...

"Vincent, are you feeling alright?" Nurse gave him a cursory glance for the strange gesture, her eyes going back to the hall just as quickly as she checked his motions.

The response came as quiet as it always did, now only half-way audible due to being muffled. "It's none of your concern."

Her mouth quirked into a tight frown, but she said nothing else, opting to remain silent for the rest of the walk. The peace did not last once actually entering the room, however; before he could manage to sit and contemplate somewhere alone, she was shoving a strange, gray piece of plastic into his hands.

"Here, why don't you try this?" she said as she nodded her head to screen behind her. Where those... monkeys? "I'm sure Mr. Honda wouldn't mind the company."

What was this even...? Venom understood the concept of these sorts of games, yes. Even with most technology destroyed, this sort of blacktech was incredibly popular wherever it was allowed (and sometimes even where it wasn't). But this was entirely different to what little he had seen and... He turned the device in his hands like a child that had been handed a scientific calculator before looking at the engrossed man sitting close by. "I don't..." He trailed off, suddenly not wishing to disturb the man more than he had with his presence. Maybe he should just leave the game be and settle down somewhere else...

[osoreirimasu.livejournal.com]

Jump, jump, barrel roll, jump jump, golden letter. The levels were easy since he'd been doing them for so long, but there was still a sense of accomplishment as he hunched in front of the TV, moving his fingers smoothly over the buttons. He knew this thing backwards and forwards and it wasn't until he heard his human name being called that he broke out of his single-minded focus to listen to the person who was apparently joining him.

But even as he waited there was no notice of a Player 2 entering the game. Instead, he could feel the person hovering behind him, uncertain as to what to do. Japan landed a jump and then paused the game, closing his eyes for a moment as he returned from the 2D paradise he'd just been in. Back to the real world. Sigh.

"Super Donkey Kong is a wonderful game and quite easy to pick up," he said by way of introduction. He turned his head then, looking up to see who the person was.

And summarily dropping the control out of shock.

It was....It couldn't be though! His hair! His symbol was still there, yes, but his hair! How could anyone make a mistake on that hair?! It was almost perfect, almost so completely perfect that its imperfection was what stuck out about him the most. Japan had been so accustomed to seeing complete replicas of each character he'd come across that seeing this, a clear mistake, was jarring and almost....heartbreaking. ".........p-please...sit."

[anemptydecapo]

"..."

It felt like a long while since he received that kind of reaction. Aside from Bridget, each person he'd come into contact with here hadn't any flicker of recognition at either his face (or, more specifically, the glyph covering it), his voice, or even his name. Even those brief moments he'd spoken of the Guild to his acquaintances were handled as explanations--no one knew of him or his work. No one ever knew of his world. But suddenly the man (Asian. Japanese? That never stops being jarring) dropped his plastic piece the very instant he looked at the assassin and Venom knew it was more than just shock at his appearance. He knew that look, the expression of someone realizing just who they were speaking with.

After a week's worth of humility had been forced onto his shoulders and every being around him took it upon themselves to underestimate him, receiving that look of recognition felt far too refreshing.

Even still, that look... wasn't fear, was it? There was shock, but nothing close to terror, at least not of him. (Disappointing...) Instead of taking to his feet and fleeing, the stranger opted to request his presence. Why? If he knew who Venom was and all that implied therein, what did he want with him?

Against his better judgment, the assassin obliged the request, eyes narrowed and head titled slightly.

"State your business."

[osoreirimasu.livejournal.com]

Japan felt like he was hyperventilating. On the inside at least. If he let the Venom cosplayer know he was having a mental fanboy breakdown over his outfit, he might be considered breaking character himself and that could never be allowed. He couldn't allow himself to destroy the carefully set atmosphere and everyone's hard work in maintaining it. Breathe. Slowly.

Oh God, his hair....

The man sat down next to him and Japan straightened, forgetting the game for a moment. It took a lot for him to forget a game, but this tragedy of the cosplay world was more than enough to take his mind off it. Venom, while not being wildly popular in the Guilty Gear franchise compared to some of the other characters, was certainly iconic for his character design alone. It meant he was readily identifiable and thus memorable, meaning it should have been easy to get his defining traits right. Just how could someone make such a mistake?!

But he really should have been paying more attention to what the man was saying. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly, a disapproving expression on his face as he asked Japan to state his business. Did he think the country was a threat? Oh bother. What if he thought Japan was breaking character by recognizing him? "Ah....n-nothing, I just....was intrigued by your hair-- The symbol! The symbol on your hair. Is that...natural?"

[anemptydecapo]

Venom could firmly admit to being a horrid actor. As mentioned previously, the skill it took to lie and lie convincingly was something he'd never managed to grasp in all of his years, no matter what amount of training and scolding he was put under, leading to a life of blunt sophistication and the singular trait of offending most everyone with it.

However, that didn't extend to his ability to see through the lies of others. The Guild's lessons weren't entirely in vain and as useless as they were when attempting to apply them to himself, he always knew when someone was attempting to hide something.

This man was trying to hide something and failing terribly.

Hmph.

For the moment, he stayed in his seat. Truthfully, Venom held no interest in this game the man insisted was so entertaining, and it showed in his posture. He would much rather find just what had the stranger so flustered. He would rather know what he knew. "Is that an appropriate question to ask?" When the informant is clearly threatened, yet still tight-lipped, enforce pressure.

[osoreirimasu.livejournal.com]

Oh god, that look. That question. Venom knew something was wrong with Japan's behavior. He knew and Japan was either going to get slapped across the room for his impertinence for forgetting himself where everyone took their costumes so seriously, or worse: he'd get kicked out of the game. Japan did not want to get kicked out of the game. Nor did he want to be slapped down by an angry cosplayer impersonating a very deadly assassin. But mostly he didn't want to get kicked out of the game by someone who...had cut Venom's hair. God, that poor hair. Maybe it'd been an accident? How he hoped it'd been an accident.

Japan paled a bit and then dropped his gaze to the floor, apologetic. He'd forgotten himself in his shock upon seeing the man and the state of his hair. He should have known better, but really! It was Venom. It was rare enough to see him and if it wasn't for the hair, the man would be perfect! The voice, the skin tone, everything!

"...I...apologize. It was not an appropriate question and so I withdraw it. Please forgive me. I forgot myself momentarily." To go with his apology, he bowed deeply from the waist, putting both hands on the floor in front of him. He hoped the man would forgive him. If he didn't, he just opened himself up to the greatest slapdown in history.