Day 27: Lunch

[stray_shinigami]

Renji wasn't so certain what this grilled cheese thing was all about, but he liked the sound of some soup. Even if it was strange western soup, well... there wasn't anything bad people could do to soup, in his experience. His good mood was starting to fray at the edges, a little, from the strain of dealing with the Ichimaru issue, and even more

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[thehellismycar]

The man had been hopelessly subdued to all but his own predicament; that is, until the unresponsive gaze happened on a patient who'd apparently materialised beside him. He'd hardly taken heed of the nurse's greeting. Face still wiped of emotion, (which, ironically, made it glaringly obvious to those on familiar terms with him that he wasn't feeling so hot), his movements were mechanical as he stood and seized the kid's wrist.

The idea of a panicked little girl, frightened by circumstances, had him recall his first day, and the absolute terror he experienced upon realising his brother was absent. It was clear this patient had just arrived - not simply because the nurse had mentioned it, but from the wild hair curtaining ice cold eyes; eyes most likely suited to royalty, capable of warming a room if in the proper environment. ... Maybe. They were pretty remarkable, actually. Her immature huffing seemed to be a sign she was a princess of some sort, though.

This'd become a dog pile in a minute...

"Hey, c'mon," he said calmly, predominant stare on the orderlies as he stepped up without hesitation, a wary hand touching her shoulder. "Don't wanna tempt them." Unless the bastards had manipulated the memory of his first morning too, he unthinkingly decided to appear as firm as possible. Rein's method - soft and reassuring, one step at a time - had worked a treat, now that he thought back to it. Had it not been for her kind words, he'd have probably gone straight to the podium and beaten the holy crap out of Landel; or he'd have tried before getting his head kicked in. Quintessentially, she saved his ass.

"Come on," Dean repeated with a bit of forcefulness, assuming the (standard in his book) commanding tone. He tugged lightly on the little girl's arm, carefully pulling her in the direction of a seat and maintaining strict eye contact with the nurses.

[roses_bleues]

Another man. Human. Smelling human. She could hear his heartbeat through the hand on her body.

"Why are you touching me? I don't like it," she said, as monotone as it was possible to sound when her head was fuzzy. She didn't want to be led around anymore, and her arm extended and grew taught before she stepped forward, lest she be pulled off her feet. Diva was tired... Not hungry, but tired... Only half of what she remembered, but still annoying.

She felt it necessary to say: "Our clothes match."

[thehellismycar]

Brow furrowed for a few seconds, he ripped his sights from the nurse to look directly at the little girl. It was clear the unexpected statement bowled him over, blank features quickly reverting to a politely staggered expression. He briefly raised his eyebrows.

"Uh huh," he replied with a dullness challenging the other, glancing at the chair standing inches away. "Sit down and I won't have to." May as well retort with equal whim. He had a hunch that orchestrating formal conversation with someone as bright as the patient in front of him would show how truly idiotic you were. He sighed and tugged on her arm a second time, stopping and blinking at her next comment.

"... Yeah," he murmured, unsure whether he was supposed to smile or 'smile and nod'. So he frowned instead.

[roses_bleues]

There was a question rising up in her mind, or maybe more than one. Or maybe a comment. Somehow they didn't reach her tongue - in the end, however, many of her thoughts weren't voiced, simply because they grew uninteresting so fast, she discarded them with the same speed they came. Before, sedatives had made her quiet. She hadn't felt like talking at all. Or perhaps that had had something to do with having no one to talk to.

Looking over her shoulder, she watched the nurse woman and the man, ignoring the words being spoken to her until it became clear no answer was coming. Why was that? Her meaning had been quite clear; her Chevaliers would have understood. She had asked a question.

"The clothes," she repeated, passing a hand over her eyes for a moment. "Everyone's clothes. Why are they all the same?"

[thehellismycar]

This girl was too simplistic in her mannerisms to be called a common dimwit. There was a story behind that façade.

Dean tilted slightly, kneeling to a degree that enabled him plain view of her face. He straightened a moment later, grimacing to himself. Sustaining a vice-grip on the new patient's wrist, the man stretched a leg toward the chair and caught his foot around the edge of it, causing a small screech when he managed to drag it in arm's reach.

This was ridiculous...

He sighed inaudibly and twisted the piece of furniture around, positioning it just behind the girl. Placing two strong hands on her shoulders, he cautiously forced her into the seat. There was plenty of time for talk, but it was the least of his worries for now. She appeared to be drugged; having her on both feet while in a daze like that - and then explaining she was trapped in this hellhole for good - didn't seem to be the finer option here.

[roses_bleues]

It was a strange string of actions, first to look at her face, then pull the chair around so awkwardly. It would have been funny had things been different.

Her gaze slid to the hand on her left shoulder, then to the one on her right. When there were sedatives, there had been touching, done by men too; that old geezer, and Amshel too. But... Diva's eyelids slipped down to half-mast. But there was a difference here - she hadn't been weak in so many years. Not a harm to her. Not anymore. Had she been upset before? It seemed silly now. They were all human, and she was still Diva. Whatever the case, a seat was being pulled out for her, and that was a signal for her to sit down.

Reaching up, her fingers curled in the material of one of Dean's shirt sleeves, her head dipping down as though about to rest her cheek against his forearm. He had strong blood, it was loud. "Where's Amshel?"

She should maybe ask, first, who was for eating and who was for... other things. Business and stuff, none of which concerned her.

[thehellismycar]

His sights descended momentarily when the material on his arms smoothly crumpled under the girl's fingertips. He had zero intention of offering hugs, let alone to a patient he'd just met, so he warily unfolded the delicate grip from his shirt and pulled up another chair from nearby.

"Who's that?" He muttered, shifting himself in the cheap seat. Aware his harsh gaze was probably a bit too rough for the likes of a baffled teenager, he rolled his eyes and tried begrudgingly to soften his stare on her.

Interrogation tactics? No use here.

[roses_bleues]

If Diva even registered the underlying meaning between Dean's actions, she didn't show it. Nor was she bothered by sudden shifts in temperament; if there was one thing she was used to when it came to interaction with humans, it was their ever present need to pull when she pushed, to shift away when she touched.

Because she was a Chiropteran, she was special. Treated differently.

"Who are you?" she echoed, tailing the man's question with her own.

[thehellismycar]

Dean's eyebrows elevated yet again, arms lifted and lowered lethargically as he gave a heavy, semi-exasperated shrug. He couldn't exactly say the girl was talented at pulling the heartstrings.

OK, whatever...

"Dean." He glanced elsewhere with an absent-minded air. "Take it your new in town. Got a name?"

[roses_bleues]

Name? It was a rare instance when a human asked for her name, to not know it beforehand. After all, her Chevaliers did that sort of thing. She didn't meet people on her own.

Although she had asked after a name (or perhaps more than that, more unspoken questions that her Chevaliers would have picked up on), she didn't really acknowledge it, aside from something that momentarily caught her attention. Dean. "It starts the same." A 'D' for both of their names. "Diva. I'm Diva."

It didn't change the fact that the situation was rapidly losing its novelty for Diva.

"You didn't answer my question."

[thehellismycar]

He pressed a thumb to his lip for a tick, scrutinising the young girl.

"Hm." He saved himself the effort of exchanging pleasantries with this one, nodding idly to signal his endorsement. "It's a pleasure." I think, he so keenly wished to add. As an alternative, he inclined forward in the chair, resting forearms over his thighs.

The huntsman snorted softly and what she then said, leaning back erratically and folding his arms as though emphasising how short his fuse was today. He'd have to approach this girl with vigilance, it seemed.

"... What question?" Hell, mirror what you receive. See if she liked that.

[roses_bleues]

"Everyone's wearing the same thing!" Spoken as though she were repeating this out to a small child. She had, after all, asked the question not too long ago. When people didn't answer her the first time and made her repeat, it put her in a bad mood.

Something odd, though, just by hearing this one speak: he was not French, despite being in Paris. Everybody in Paris seemed French, unless they were tourists, or Saya-neesama and her Red Shield people. With a tired little sigh, Diva made to stand up. How much longer would she have to wait? That Carl, where had he run off to? All of her Chevaliers! Where had they left her?

These stupid clothes, they annoyed her most of all. "Tell me where my clothes went."

[thehellismycar]

"Hey," he addressed the girl sternly, raising a hand to impede the tirade. "Would y'knock it off?" Rubbing his temple slowly, he deliberated an answer, gaze flickering over the adolescent. "I'll tell you everything. Relax."

He allowed a pause, eyes traveling from her feet to face as he decided how to forward an intro to her. The man finally sighed when the words felt confident on his tongue.

"OK. Diva, I'm sorry -" Which honestly resonated strangely, coming from his mouth - "I've gotta break this to you." He pulled a slightly hesitant face, speculating why in the world a nurse dumped this girl on him. This wouldn't end well. The short-lived interval concluded when he glanced this way and that before returning his full attention to her.

Why did he have to do this?

"Place's called Landel's Institute. The staff'll have you believe you're a mental patient, but we're all bright enough to estimate the opposite. Everyone here is a prisoner, part of some bigger plan." He exhaled silently, the beginnings of guilt swelling within him. "And we're all tryin' to work out an escape. In the mean time, we've gotta stick with the facts - we're gonna be stuck here a while. It's a sick, twisted kind o' thing we've got goin' for us. Long as we all keep safe, out of harm's way, we'll live through this." His jaw snapped shut, throat feeling parched for some reason.

"... They lifted our gear," he continued in a softer voice, unable to look at Diva anymore. "All of it. These rags we're wearin' are the uniform."

[roses_bleues]

Knock it off... apology... Institute... prisoner... rags... live...

All words and awkward human actions that paused under the spotlight of her attention, then dropped out of mind as she moved on. Even if she found something, anything uncomfortable in Dean's words, it was nearly impossible for her to focus on it. Diva could accept that things were perverted and unhappy, but to have relapsed so far, reversed time and gone back to an even more miserable existence... That, she just couldn't fully comprehend.

For a long moment, the girl turned lightly on her feet and stared out at the cafeteria.

Then, finally, a small smile and giggle. "No, it's different. I can't be back. This is a different place." That boy... She still wanted that boy. "I can't believe they put a needle in me."

[thehellismycar]

The hush that ensued was... odd. While a tad dubious to begin with, it soon turned into a somewhat soothing silence between them, like their small space had been temporarily separated from the noisy Cafeteria; a bubble of tranquility as an understanding was reached.

He jerked his chin up when she at last chose to speak, time permitted to let the facts sink in drawing to a close. Lips tightening with uncertainty, he moved forward in the seat a little, mind not quite capable of wading through what she uttered. Dean deemed the needle comment as irrelevant, drumming fingers on his knee as green eyes narrowed on her.

"Where were you before?"

[roses_bleues]

She turned back after another moment, regarding the man like one would a curious toy that kept making noise. Where had she been before? Why was he asking her things like that?

This may have been the first real conversation she'd had with a human in her century of life, and despite being heavily sedated, she still had the mind to think this was very odd. The only men she could think of really meeting... were her Chevaliers, of course. And then the men her Chevaliers deemed it necessary for her to meet, and act as a good doll should at their dinner table. And then after that... the men that followed Saya-neesama, and tried to kill her.

It would seem this person did not fit into any category. Tilting her head, Diva touched her finger to the corner of her mouth. She thought maybe Amshel would say this was a time for saying human things, but Diva didn't feel like it at all.

"I was in Paris with Carl." That hadn't been the focus of the question, however; Diva knew that. "But I meant the room the old man put me in. The tower at the Zoo."