Jan 25, 2011 01:07
All things considered, last shift had been pretty low key. After this morning's disaster, though, that was perfectly fine by Claude. Some fresh air and a chance to make sure Guy and Okita were all right weren't things to take for granted. It was also good to have a fairly normal, conversation with Guy that didn't slip off into awkward territory
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leela,
sechs,
asuka,
senna,
tsubaki,
bella,
scott pilgrim,
anise,
gumshoe,
izaya,
the doctor,
gren,
ranulf,
sora,
england,
prussia,
rei,
claude,
guybrush,
niikura,
taura,
elena gilbert,
claire bennet,
javert,
lana skye,
ruby,
mello,
brainiac 5,
byrne,
albedo,
sakura,
guy,
stefan,
kairi,
gaara,
peter petrelli,
nigredo,
kibitoshin,
tear,
soma,
damon,
rita,
two-face,
yuffie,
ritsuka,
rapunzel,
isaac,
castiel,
edgar,
allelujah,
hijikata,
the scarecrow,
trickster,
ippo,
alaric,
yomi,
riku,
sai,
mccoy,
zack,
kratos,
l,
captain jack
Oh, naturally someone who thought to get in her way and abuse her as Landel had done would be dealt with gruesomely, as was his due, but it was hard to begrudge him his unstable passions. Whether or not he actually believed that at some level his zoo animals would be content to toe the line was not actually her concern, but it was almost amusing that he could express his disappointment without a touch of irony. Yomi was disappointed, too, that a new hand had been dealt while theirs--the force that made up her fellow prisoners, to which she loosely belonged--had been overspent. Through observation, she had yet to crack open the soldiers’ reason for being in the Institute. If they belonged to the 'Eagle', then who was he? Another unanswered question.
On the other hand, she merrily hoped those that’d gotten a face full of tear gas had enjoyed their rebellion. Now that everyone was back in the cafeteria (speedily cleaned, as usual) for lunch, though, surely they weren’t stupid enough to try it again, were they?
She huffed a quiet, laughing breath into the heel of her palm, and continued to lounge against the table, head propped in her hand. Regardless of how many times the prisoners tried to fight their way free, the question was how many solutions did the building have to suppress them? Tear gas emitted through the vents had to be just one of many.
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He hadn't tried discussing it with his nurse, of course. Alright, so say he did give it a shot. How do you think it'd go? If you asked him, he thought she'd turn him down flat for "prying". Prying! If asking someone he'd known for three to four weeks a vaguely personal question was prying, then he could forget the idea of recruiting her as an ally.
Okay, so he had tried discussing it with her.
But after today, he wasn't sure what to think. As a detective, he was embarrassed to admit this, but he'd sort of lost it when he'd seen that gas coming at him. He hadn't gotten close enough to the kids in time, either. That huge cloud of smoke had covered the whole Cafeteria. As soon as it hit, he thought he was a goner. Fortunately, it'd only been tear gas. That stuff really hurt a lot, though, and in the confusion, he'd become a coward (the sounds from people banging against blocked doors hadn't helped). For the first time ever, the only thing he'd been able to focus on was how powerless they were.
It would've been nice to know he hadn't been dying from toxic fumes at the time. In any case, seeing people on the ground had made it easier to ignore his own coughs; when he was in the middle of a war zone like that, the last thing he planned on doing was sparing a thought for himself. He'd barely put his best foot forward when nurses had begun streaming in.
"Oh, you poor thing!" he thought he heard her say. All of a sudden, they were in a completely different area (the showers?). She shuffled him into a cubicle (at least he thought it was a cubicle) and water was running down his face, among other things. He could've been standing under there for hours and he wouldn't have cared. The Cafeteria wasn't the only thing that was a mess right now. He needed to get himself cleaned up.
The lady was so nice. Although he didn't feel the same way, she told him how proud she was of the way he'd reacted to the fight. How she was treating him overall was an improvement over most days. She did him a favor by leaving him alone to change, too.
Half a shift later, he was led outside for what appeared to be roll call. His fake name jumped out at him--"Coleman"--and he answered weakly to it before his nurse came back to his side and walked him to the Sun Room. It was there, through red-rimmed eyes, that he saw Ms. von Karma's reply. It reminded him that he had to do what he'd always done to cope here, and that was to lighten up. He'd been lucky so far in that there hadn't been any lasting physical damage done to him. People who'd been taken for experiments, or had lost a family member... It would be a while until they recovered.
As Gumshoe ambled through the lunch crowd to find a chair, he noticed a strangely familiar head of hair to his right... except the top-knot was missing! The detective rushed over without thinking twice. "Hey, it's...!" he began, his voice still hoarse from the incident this morning, but then paused. Now that he'd gotten a proper look at her face... He turned red and put his tray down, feeling bad for being relieved. "Oh, sorry about that. You look like a girl I used to see a lot. Back at home, I mean."
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It was a single moment in time before sense set in, but one long enough to strike her with palpable alarm, to her own surprise. Her eyes widened. Only the most perceptive type of person would have recognized her expression as one of trepidation, and even then they might have missed it.
Couldn’t be. No one here knew her. At least as Yomi.
(No, not again. Don’t let it be Izumi again, her rebirth. Don’t it be Yoshiko, her other self.)
It wasn’t until the man seemed to realize his mistake did the noise of the cafeteria resume, once more blanketing her in sound and sensation. The howl inside her stumbled back into rhythm. He got it wrong. He mistook me. Still, the moment faded faster than her shock did. For one second… for one second, she’d thought… Her heart rate had increased, she noticed. Not something the sesshouseki had done.
He was talking again, embarrassedly explaining, and Yomi looked at him. She was relieved, too, in a wordless way. It made sense. Coincidences happened all the time. Not even this place could completely eliminate them and lonely people saw what they wanted to see. She could share vague resemblances with dozens of people and never need to care about it.
Yomi hadn’t planned to say anything to anybody that lunch, but plans went awry more often than not. "A loved one?" she asked, because there was a part of her that couldn’t not ask now.
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"Hmm?" It took him a second or two to process the question. "If you really want to know, she's my archenemy's assistant," he said with a wide smile, nearly giving in to the urge to chuckle as he slid into the chair opposite her. There wasn't the slightest bit of contempt in his voice at the passing mention of Phoenix Wright; when you were someone else's rival like he was, you didn't have to go around proving it to everyone. That was Gumshoe's policy, and he applied it to almost everything in life. Just like when he'd started questioning people yesterday! He hadn't been able to show Peter his badge, but the man hadn't asked for proof of his occupation, anyway. It'd turned out alright in the end, though, hadn't it? In his opinion, almost everything about his job that was hard would go away forever if he didn't have to deal with procedure. This search warrant, that subpoena... Why couldn't things be nice and simple for a change?
"... I know how crazy this might sound," he spoke up again, unable to hold himself back, "But that girl is a real, bona-fide spirit medium! It's unbelievable!" The rasp in his voice didn't mute his boyish excitement. When it came down to it, knowing so many kids brimming with irreplaceable talent--first it had been Mr. Edgeworth, then Ms. von Karma, and now Maya Fey--ultimately made Gumshoe feel proud.
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Her gaze wandered away. What was he saying? Something about spirit mediums. “Really.”
Yomi saw in her mind’s eye a flash of dark corridors, remembered the sound of soft, scared panting. The existence of seekers wasn’t so unbelievable. There were plenty. She had killed plenty. The only thing that tied her to them was some small overlap in their job descriptions--and in this case, perhaps, a little physical resemblance.
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Whether she believed him or not, he guessed he shouldn't keep talking about someone who wasn't even here. Not only was it rude, they'd also just met each other! Anyway, if he was going to interview her, now was the time for introductions. Talking distracted Gumshoe from being nervous, at least, so he might as well stick with what he knew best.
"So what's your name?" he continued with an absent smile, lowering his gaze to cut some of his fish. "I don't think we've met, have we? Unless I'm wrong." The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he glanced at her. "...Though I'm pretty sure that isn't the case."
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No, that wasn’t right. She knew the reason. She just didn’t want to admit it.
Who cares? a voice in her head kept repeating. Who cares?
For a split second, all his questioning caused a furrow to cut deep into her brow as she bit back a rush of venom--why did this place keep doing this to her? Quickly enough, though, she smoothed her expression again, not without a little effort. What was this?
Blankly, Yomi turned her gaze back on him. “What does it matter?” was her answer. “I’m not that girl. I’m no one you know.”
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"N-No, you aren't..." he replied, trying not to sound meek. She'd start thinking she could walk all over him if he gave up now. This time, he was the one looking away. Which was probably a huge giveaway that her statement put him on edge, but he didn't think of that. He made himself look her in the eye again, his gaze a little softer than before. "But that doesn't mean I can't get to know you."
Gumshoe had a feeling that this wouldn't go anywhere if he didn't insist on it. An interview was looking less likely, but it wasn't about that. He couldn't turn his back on a kid who might have just been feeling emotional after what had happened that morning.
"Umm..." The detective picked up a French Fry and started turning it between his fingers. Like he sometimes did with his pencil during questioning. "Alright then, why don't I start? My name's Dick Gumshoe." He managed a small smile. "Go ahead. Ask me anything you want."
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Practically speaking, Yomi didn’t think this one would be difficult to handle. He was more weird than dangerous. A talkative type, it seemed, and unless he was a very, very good actor, one who wore his intentions on his proverbial sleeve.
She continued to stare at the man evenly, arms crossed. “Fine,” agreed Yomi, deciding to take him up on the offer. Though what she asked really had nothing to do with ‘getting to know’ him. “Tell me something about this place that the average prisoner wouldn’t know.”
Maybe she would get lucky. Worth a shot, hm?
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"S-Sorry. I understand if you don't want to talk to me. I just figured, you know, since we're sitting together..." This was when he was meant to stop talking, wasn't it? Young or old, as long as a woman had it all together, Gumshoe couldn't figure them out. He was always too busy trying to say the right thing to them, and when he didn't, he--
"Th-The average prisoner? Well, uh..." A few seconds passed in silence as he tried to think of an impressive answer. Something that would blow her mind. Naturally, the first person he would've turned to for help would have been Mr. Edgeworth, so that was who he thought of first. Nothing came to mind, though, not right away. However, when he remembered something from one of their earlier conversations... "Oh, I know! Did you know that Dr. Landel took us from a very important time in our lives? That's why everyone has a different idea of what year it is." He grinned. This was only conjecture, of course. But so what? The theory held water in Mr. Edgeworth and Wright's cases, as well as his own. And the Skye sisters'! That made it good enough for Gumshoe.
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Yomi gave a cool, catlike smile at his stuttering answer but all she said was, "I don’t think you do," because underneath the teasing, she didn’t think he understood why she wouldn’t want to talk to him at all. An apology wasn’t enough. Entreating Yomi’s human side wasn’t enough.
And he had no clue. Not the slightest clue he was sitting by such a monster, did he?
She kept the smile going as he sought to meet her request, lessening it slightly when he eventually came up with something. Very important times? Ah, yes, she had died, forced Kagura to slay her and carry the memory with her forever. That was Yomi's important time. "And how do you know that?" she asked.
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