Zelgadis was not happy, at all. Not that this was any change, but the events of the past few hours had given him more to angst about than usual. Nightshift had been dreadful: first he was attacked by a small green man and then covered in leeches, neither of which lead to warm fuzzy feelings
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But if they had trouble getting clothes that fit him properly, he had to wonder what they would stick Recluse in. Of course, he hoped he wouldn't have to be trapped on a bus with that psychopath.
Statesman was willing to work with Recluse at night, but he wanted him to stay away during the day.
Marcus took one of the window seats near the front of the bus and stared at his muffin and juice box. They expected that to substitute for breakfast?
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At least he had someone to antagonize this morning. Forgoing any other options, Recluse sat down next to Marcus. "We really shouldn't have spent so much time waiting for your friends. Nothing important got done."
Hello, my name is Stefan Richter, and I'm here to ruin your day.
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Marcus couldn't refute that nothing had gotten done, because it hadn't...
"I wouldn't call making dangerous chemical weapons important, Recluse."
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"I get the most work done when I only deal with one person or go by myself at night." Large groups just attracted complications. Just like at home, really. Arachnos had a reputation for incredible efficiency, but that only held up if you didn't look on a case-by-case basis.
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On the other hand, he'd at least been allowed to ditch the usual ridiculous uniform for jeans and a sweatshirt that was a bit too large. Not much of an improvement, but as long as the smiley face was non-existent, he wasn't going to complain.
Slumped into his seat, he chewed absently on a thumbnail as he kept an eye out for Rufus. He hadn't been on a bus for years. The last time he'd climbed aboard one was all the way back in grade school.
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Rufus had plainly decided by this point to ignore his clothing. Repeatedly. It hurt his mind.
Spotting Reno, there was a momentary internal debate on whether or not to join the Turk. Not because he didn't want the redhead's company, oh no, but because Reno was a Turk and therefore adept at sniffing out a lie.
It didn't happen.
It did.
It didn't...It was probably for the best that Schuldig wasn't around because the back and forth pingponging of Rufus' thoughts and the state of denial he was trying to keep ( ... )
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At least now he knew where the blood had come from last night. Jeez.
"Throwback to the old days," he remarked. Unlike Rufus, he'd worn nothing but jeans until he became a Turk.
As much as he wanted to start prodding about last night right away, he decided to hold off. No sense in getting the President to slam up his defences so early on. Instead, he glanced at the more obvious injuries, eyes narrowed slightly. He hadn't noticed them in the almost pitch black and chaos of last night.
"Who the hell beat you up?"
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"Heya," she greeted with a crooked grin, glancing up at the man who had spoken to her. She'd met him before, but as much as she searched her memory for a name, none was forthcoming. Maybe she hadn't caught it last time around?
"Looks like you're still here," she spoke, sliding over in her seat to make room in case he wanted to join her. "Me too. Have a muffin, they're surprisingly tasty. I'd still kill for some coffee instead of this freaking juice, though."
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"Perhaps they think we might burn ourselves with such hot liquids on a bus." he replied. He quickly glanced at the contents of his own bag, noticing the muffin along with the box of apple juice. This breakfast was hardly a proper one, but the nature of his meals was hardly relevant. Or at least not to someone who no longer existed.
The Superior couldn't help but think this was quite similiar to a school trip.
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Still, he went along with it, not really in the mood to deal with much of anything. Where were the people from last night? It didn't really matter. He boarded the first bus he saw and slumped against the window.
So. They were going somewhere...
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No, no, no. That wasn't right. He had been caught off guard and it could have happened to anyone. He was still every bit a man and he would prove it by rising to whatever challenge he faced in the upcoming days. Amazons did not back down from a fight.
He wasn't wearing his glasses, but the voice of his seatmate implied she was a woman. He wondered idly if she was dressed as ridiculously as he was.
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So he seemed a little gloomy. That hardly excused ignoring a pretty girl that was practically right in front of him! Anise noted his sling; the guy had probably gotten into a nasty fight, possibly not too unlike her own two nights ago. Maybe he just needed some cheering up!
Whatever the case, a silent trip was out of the question for Anise. Recovering her smile, and hoping the stranger hadn't noticed it fade into a frown just moments ago, she tried to start up a conversation. "Wow! I can't believe they're really letting us outside like this. I wonder if they'll have trouble keeping track of everyone in town! Hee hee." Frankly, she hoped they would.
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She offered him a tired smile, then peered down at the juice box he was indicating. If she'd had more energy, she might have messed with him, but right now she just wanted to go back to sleep. "Here," she said, showing him the drink she had been given. "You use this thing - a 'straw'. Well, first you have to get it out of the 'plastic wrapper'." She felt rather superior, knowing all these technical terms from the modern world. "Then you poke it through this little hole, but be careful not to squeeze the box, or all the juice will come out and make a mess."
Finished with her explanation, Rukia sipped her apple juice, looking up at him as she waited to see what he would do.
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He squirmed a little in his seat again. It felt like the jeans were trying to crawl up his ass. He wasn't used to his clothes being that friendly. Even the ridiculous "uniform" for the "patients" was a lot looser than these things.
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