((from hereGinji felt a little better now that he had met someone else tonight and he was actually on the right track to getting to Kurama's room! Without even getting lost once
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The intercom had barely clicked off the first time before Omi was getting ready for the nightshift. He didn't especially care what the Doctor had to say, but it meant he'd be getting out of his room and away from the much too heavy silence.
Sweatshirt? Check. Pens? Check. He'd paused over the darts, wondering if their loss was outweighed by the point he'd make if he gave them back to Kurama. In the end, he'd kept them, deciding that the extra ammunition was worth being indebted to someone. He pocketed the baseballs, grabbed the bat, and was out the door almost as soon as it clicked open.
He didn't say a word to Kurama. He had somewhere to be.
Farfarello didn't even turn his head to look as the blond kid hurried by, but his arm snaked out in an attempt to grab the kid by a shoulder or elbow and pull him into the impromptu little powwow in the middle of the hall. The kid was small, but moved with confidence and seemed to be sure of where he was going, and that was good enough to interest Farfarello at the moment.
Omi was in mission mode, so when one of the people in the group at the end of the hall reached for him, he was moving back and reaching for one of his pens before he really registered who was doing the reaching.
Not someone he knew, anyway, and Omi was not in a generous mood tonight. He did stop, but kept just enough distance that he couldn't be grabbed without warning. "What?"
The kid obviously had good reflexes, which further proved to Farfarello that he might potentially be useful. "I'm looking for a couple other people. Is there a patient directory? Or do you know where Schuldig or River can be found?"
Farfarello made no attempt to apologise for trying to grab the kid, nor did he introduce himself, asking for the kid's name, or do anything else remotely polite. He wanted out of this stupid hallway and into some action, and to do that he needed to find Schuldig first.
This was not shaping up to be a fun night, so far.
Schuldig? Hadn't Aya mentioned someone with that name, like Omi should have known who he was talking about? It made him look more closely at the man questioning him, but he had no way of knowing whether he might also be from Omi's world.
He shook his head. "I don't know either of them, sorry. And I'm pretty sure they wouldn't make it that easy on us by having a directory where we could get to it."
Farfarello returned the kid's inspection with a flat stare, more than accustomed to people looking at him funny. He sighed and turned away, then, all but stomping back to his post outside his room to do some more warm-up exercises.
He could be heard muttering something about a "pathetic excuse for a fake hospital" and how the bastards were clearly "not even trying to make it look good." After all, Farfarello knew his mental institutions; Farfarello was the fucking Fodor's of mental institutions.
Omi watched him go back to stretching, and shrugged. It wasn't his fault he didn't know everyone in the place. He turned and headed out of the hallway.
Sweatshirt? Check. Pens? Check. He'd paused over the darts, wondering if their loss was outweighed by the point he'd make if he gave them back to Kurama. In the end, he'd kept them, deciding that the extra ammunition was worth being indebted to someone. He pocketed the baseballs, grabbed the bat, and was out the door almost as soon as it clicked open.
He didn't say a word to Kurama. He had somewhere to be.
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Not someone he knew, anyway, and Omi was not in a generous mood tonight. He did stop, but kept just enough distance that he couldn't be grabbed without warning. "What?"
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Farfarello made no attempt to apologise for trying to grab the kid, nor did he introduce himself, asking for the kid's name, or do anything else remotely polite. He wanted out of this stupid hallway and into some action, and to do that he needed to find Schuldig first.
This was not shaping up to be a fun night, so far.
Reply
He shook his head. "I don't know either of them, sorry. And I'm pretty sure they wouldn't make it that easy on us by having a directory where we could get to it."
Reply
He could be heard muttering something about a "pathetic excuse for a fake hospital" and how the bastards were clearly "not even trying to make it look good." After all, Farfarello knew his mental institutions; Farfarello was the fucking Fodor's of mental institutions.
Reply
((One hallway over, to here.))
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