Day 32: Cafeteria, Breakfast

[7_to_midnight]

Sylar's gears were still turning as the nurse and a burly orderly escorted him down long halls and through a strange, sunlit room. He'd been forced to drop his pen when the orderly had seen it, and since then, he'd realized that this place had better security than he'd originally anticipated, as well as a large population of patients. It looked

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[crimson_handed]

Kimbley wasn't in a terrifically good mood as he made his way into the cafeteria, pointedly ignoring the nurse at his side. He could have been; after all, he'd deflected (another) attack on his life with little trouble. But maybe in spite of (or because of?) that, he was irritated, fire ants pricking at his spine. He hadn't gotten anything done because of the attack last night. He'd gotten the gasoline and the fertilizer, sure, but those had been brought to him. If he didn't find anything himself soon, he was going to start getting a little ... edgy.

Tonight, at least, would provide him with yet another opportunity. If he could wrench free some pipes from the bathroom walls, he'd have shells for the explosives. The only question was, how would he get them out of there in the first place? Alchemy could only provide so much, unfortunately.

Tray in hand, Kimbley sat down and began eating absentmindedly, half-focused on where he could find the next set of ingredients and half-focused on watching for the bitch from last night - and Lust.

[jei]

The cafeteria was already starting to fill up enough that Farfarello quickly gave up on finding himself a quiet seat. In any case, this way he could choose who he sat with, and not end up with some perky dipshit.

Tray piled with, as usual, bacon and eggs and only token amounts of fruit, Farfarello headed for a cranky-looking bitch. Good. Cranky, he could work with. Perky made him want to hurt people.

Of course, linoleum made him want to hurt people.

[crimson_handed]

The person who sat down across from Kimbley actually gave him a bit of a start. He gave the man a once-over from about the waist up (or as far as he could see from the table): short red hair, one eye, scars all over his face ... he'd seen some strange fuckers in his life, and this guy was crawling toward the top of the Strangest pile.

Still, he didn't look long; within moments he was focusing back on the world around him, fork clutched tight between his fingers. He wasn't about to initiate a conversation if he didn't have to.

[jei]

It was always entertaining when they stared, even if it was only for a second. But he looked away fairly quickly. "Looking for someone specific, I take it. Try not to start any riots, I like to eat in peace."

[crimson_handed]

"Wasn't planning on it." If he was going to start a riot, he was going to start it right - with someone dying. As he didn't exactly have access to that kind of thing quite yet, he had no intention of causing much of a distraction. "Not looking for anyone, either. I can get answers on the bulletin board."

He only wondered if she'd even bother to respond there. Knowing homunculi (as limited as his experience was with them), she'd probably just send someone else to kill him. Or try it herself. That would be preferable.

[jei]

"Hm. I see." Farfarello smiled, trying to decide which of the early-morning board posts this man had made. The ones by the club leaders were out, obviously, and judging by the man's obvious bad mood, probably so were the general 'thanks for your help last night' ones. That really only left one, and it was quite an interesting one, at that. "So, who tried to kill you?"

[crimson_handed]

"I never did catch her name," he said, leaning on one elbow and pushing what remained of his food around on the plate. "I figured she'd be dead by night's end, so I never asked." Not that he had any desire to know who she was, anyway. Just another psychotic bitch looking to kill him for someone else.

[jei]

"Ah, you need to be careful about assumptions. This place is just full of do-gooders waiting to ride to the rescue of even the most inconvenient people. If you didn't feel her heart stop beating with your own hands, better to assume your would-be assassin is quite alive." The speed-healing in this place was great when one was injured, not so great when one's opponents were injured.

[crimson_handed]

"Oh, I'm sure she's alive somewhere." Kimbley glanced out across the mass of people, unable to pick her out and not caring that he couldn't. "And I don't plan on making her life any more difficult unless she keeps trying to kill me. It's common courtesy." And he just didn't feel like it. Why go out of his way to inconvenience a stranger when he could inconvenience people he knew (relatively so)?

[jei]

"Courtesy, maybe. Common? Not at all. I certainly wouldn't let someone live if they tried to kill me. But then, it's bad for my professional image if I do, so unless you're in the business I suppose it makes sense not to bother." Farfarello smiled casually, not the least bit worried about admitting to being an assassin--it wasn't exactly a secret around here.

[crimson_handed]

Kimbley was practically an assassin. All right, so he'd only had a few jobs, and all of them were genocidal repressions, but he'd done the job and gotten both paid and jailed for it, so they were basically the same thing. It didn't surprise him to learn that this psychotic-looking freak was a killer. Hell, he would've been surprised if he wasn't.

"I could say I'm just too busy to bother with her, but that'd be a lie." No point in lying when the truth hurt even more. "It'd be better if I was. Bombs don't make themselves, and I doubt there's any stray dynamite lying around this place."

[jei]

"No, probably not. But there is a lab, with a charming supply closet attached. All sorts of fun chemicals." Farfarello smiled, thinking on the pile of such that he had tucked away in his closet at the moment.

[crimson_handed]

"Is there, now."

Kimbley's interest was piqued; he looked back at the assassin, suddenly far more interested in their conversation. There was a chemical lab here? And he didn't know about it?

"Where is it?" he asked, keeping his voice only mildly interested. If he could get his hands on those chemicals, he wouldn't need to barter with anyone for a long time ... unless they were bartering for their lives. (Not that he often cared to let them live long enough to offer.)

[jei]

"How about a deal? I give you directions, and even a little map if you have a pen on you, if you get me a couple things I didn't have room for when I went up there. Nothing too onerous, just some empty glass beakers."

[crimson_handed]

"No pen, but I've got a good memory. Words are fine."

Glass beakers? Fine.

"Deal. Now where is it?"

[jei]

Farfarello nodded. Even if this man didn't come through with his end of the bargain, it was really no loss to Farfarello--the information wasn't impossible to come by through other means, after all. "Second floor, same side as the patient blocks. First hallway from the far west wall. Once you enter the hallway go right to the end and through another door. Immediately to your left will be a locked door--the lock can be broken. That door leads into a kind of prep or decontamination room, and through the only other door in there is the lab. Storage room is one of the two rooms leading off the lab. The other one sounds like it holds test animals, I wouldn't reccomend going in there."

[OOC: I use west even though the maps now say 'east' because it was mentioned that this is going to be corrected, and west makes the most IC sense.]