Jan 10, 2011 09:45
For once, HK was working very hard to hide a giddy facial expression as he met his nurse at the door. He'd already hidden his scalpels in his clothing. The wonderful, sharp implements of doom would be needed today. “Statement: Despite my reticence towards all processed meat and plant products, I am experiencing intolerable levels of hunger,” he
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leela,
kirk,
s.t.,
gambit,
japan,
badd,
anise,
minato,
the doctor,
ranulf,
england,
sam winchester,
indiana jones,
tk-622,
goku (dragonball),
niikura,
taura,
claire bennet,
kinomoto sakura,
peter parker,
snow,
lunge,
lana skye,
ruby,
mello,
soren,
brainiac 5,
the flash,
albedo,
stefan,
tsukasa,
watson,
peter petrelli,
mele,
tear,
damon,
two-face,
yuffie,
ritsuka,
kanda,
tomoe,
erika,
edgar,
tifa,
the scarecrow,
hijikata,
maya,
okita,
spock,
zack,
kratos,
shinji,
sechs,
carter,
jo,
senna,
asuka,
bella,
scott pilgrim,
kaito,
gumshoe,
izaya,
claire littleton,
gren,
sora,
prussia,
rei,
woody,
claude,
renamon,
dean winchester,
hk-47,
grell,
byrne,
guy,
kairi,
venom,
gaara,
depth charge,
kibitoshin,
lightning,
rita,
castiel,
allelujah,
trickster,
chise,
yomi,
sylar,
sai,
sasuke,
edward cullen,
kaworu,
mccoy
He wasn't sure how he could tell. Probably the slow drift up to consciousness, or the awful taste of his mouth, or the way one foot felt more numb than the other when he began wrestling his limbs out from under the sheets. He managed an awkward seat at the edge of his bed, then dragged a hand down his face and flicked one finger against his cheek. He winced, but at least he felt lucid. Since when had staying awake been so hard? And what the hell had caused it this time?
He could already sense the impending dread he'd become so used to, though after so much time here, morning realizations had begun to lose their edge - or at least he liked to think so. His memory's image of a shadowy Gabriel Gray was still hazy, and he tried to keep it that way as he got up from his bed and stumbled to the wall. His legs felt weaker than they should've; he'd definitely been on that mattress for a long time. As to how long, Sylar's best bet was probably to get the information out of Peter or Claire. The two of them paid more attention to him than they'd care to admit, and asking his nurse would be about as useful as talking to a lamp post.
Speaking of which... Sylar heard the usual sound of the door unlocking and tried to straighten on his feet as he braced for his nurse's insipid "good morning," but he frowned as soon as she got a foot in the door. She wasn't even trying to force a smile today, and instead of being followed by Tweedle-dee and Tweedele-dum of the orderly variety, a couple of figures in black, military-looking uniforms stood close behind her. Watching her.
This was different. Different was good, especially when it made his nurse dart her eyes around the room like she was the one under scrutiny. Sylar smirked faintly, taking in a small amount of satisfaction as he walked past her into the hall. Maybe her tenure was up for review or something.
But as they walked down the hall to the cafeteria, it became increasingly clear that his nurse wasn't the only subject of the uniforms' interest. The men who Sylar hadn't ever seen before were marching down the hallways like they owned the place, and for once, the nurses seemed just as on edge as the patients. Even as he grabbed his breakfast from the food line, Sylar kept his eyes on the interactions between the staff-members and the soldier invaders, trying to figure out just what the hell was going on and how he could use it to his advantage. Corporate takeover? Government takeover? Or just an inspection? Either way, there was a clear danger - either economical or physical - for the usual nurses and orderlies, which was putting them on awkward footing and making them far more vulnerable than usual.
The question was how he could exploit it.
He sat down at one of the tables toward the edge of the cafeteria, where he could keep his ears piqued for any snippets of conversation that the nurses dropped during their circles around the room. He grabbed a forkful of hash browns and chewed, slowly.
[ For Izaya. ]
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There was nothing that could be done about that now, however. He woke and rose to the sounds of the morning announcement, picking out what information he could from it ("test trials"? "condensed sleep cycles"?). It wasn't long before a nurse arrived to escort him to breakfast, and Izaya gave her a small smile, keeping silent for the time being. He had many questions to ask-why the change in announcements, for one, and if it had anything to do with yesterday's final announcement-but if the man on the intercom was telling the truth that the nurses knew only the barest minimum, it wouldn't do any good to ask them. Besides, the uniformed men that were standing behind her could make it difficult to get anything useful out of her even if she did know something.
The nurse seemed nervous as he followed her out of the room, and it seemed obvious why: there were even more uniforms in the hallways as they headed towards the cafeteria, and the nurse was giving the men a wide berth. The change in the announcements must have had something to do with their presence, but the question was what role did they play? What had been said over the intercoms yesterday made more sense today, but if the "head doctor" had prepared for this, surely the staff could have been more relaxed, whether this was an inspection or a transferal of command or anything else... Not that Izaya particularly minded seeing the nurses so nervous. It was an amusing change.
The nurse nearly vanished into thin air once Izaya had his breakfast-off to collect others, he assumed, or to keep an eye out for troublemakers. He kept an eye on the nurses as he moved around the edges of the cafeteria to find a seat where he could both have a good view of the room and maybe even overhear the nurses whispering to each other. The likeliest spot available was near a dark-haired man who had already started on his breakfast.
Izaya hoped the man wouldn't mind company, because he was about to get it.
He headed for the spot, setting his tray down with a "You don't mind, do you?" as he started to take a seat. For good measure, he gave the man a smile.
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But if there was anything Sylar had learned here, it was that even the simplest of plans could fall through in seconds, and the best he could do was roll with the punches instead of fight them. He did that now, leaning back in his chair and giving a shrug in the man's direction. Not standoffish - just uninterested. Maybe the guy would get the hint that Sylar had better things to do today than play goody-goody over the course of a meal.
"Sure thing," he said absently, narrowing his eyes as something caught his attention just over the man's shoulder. Two of the orderlies were talking, but in hushed tones, like they were discussing the situation rather than coordinating it. Sylar doubted that they knew anything useful considering how Landel seemed to be keeping them in the dark anyway, but it often wasn't the content of someone's words that gave away the best information, but the way they said them.
Something in that line of thought nagged at him to pay attention to how the man had carried himself when taking the seat, but Sylar was too preoccupied to notice.
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That suited Izaya just fine. He'd chosen the spot for its position, after all, not for its company. If the man wanted to watch the staff (or the wall), he wasn't interested in interrupting him right now. He also wasn't particularly interested in eating, but he picked up half of an English muffin anyway.
Izaya's own gaze was on the far side of the room, as he tried to take in as much of the staff's comings and goings and encounters as he could. A few of them stopped to exchange words, casting glances at the uniformed men who had entered or left, only to continue on their ways moments later. Whatever the new group was doing here, it seemed that-
A bit of motion in the center of the room caught his eye, but it wasn't until the man who'd stood up began to yell that Izaya's attention was torn away from a nurse and an orderly who had just stopped to talk. He'd only barely finished yelling (had he called the doctor "head meatbag"?) when the first muffin was thrown.
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