Day 46: Sun Room
The previous shifts had offered much in the way of her own personal curiosity, but little in understanding the place she was in. Still, Renamon's mind had quieted; the irritation shifted into the back of her mind. Was it simply children that accomplished that? Or the kind of people that maintained their differences, and sated something in her. She
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No matter what this place threw at her, she had a responsibility to herself and to her people. As long as she could keep that just as firmly in heart as it was in mind, she could smile. And she did smile, right then and there, and then she cupped her hands around her mouth and called, "Fuzzbutt! Hey, Fuzzbutt! C'mere! Where's my scrawny lil' monster bait, huh?"
A black and white blur shot out from behind one of the couches, darting and weaving and only barely avoiding a head-on collision with everything in its path. Yuffie laughed as her favorite came running, full-tilt and meowing ( ... )
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But Sam didn't like it when he hovered too much and Dean kept back, making sure the kid was in eyesight and just within ear-shot and while he didn't think anything was gonna go down during the day like this, there was always that paranoid just in case in his head. Still, he could give Sam some space, which really just meant looking busy but not that busy.
"Think the cat's trying to cop a feel," Dean said, pasting on a grin. "Better watch out, some of 'em are real bitchy."
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Yuffie finally pried the last claw loose, being as careful as she knew how. She brought the tiny cat to her nose, bopped hers against his. "You're not bitchy, are ya, Fuzzbutt?" The kitten, purring up a storm, wriggled out of her hand and onto her arm, and from there, onto her head. Geez… If she had one weakness that didn’t begin with the letters W, A, or M, then it was kittens. Cute, furry, none-drooling mutant beasts from hell-type kittens.
At last she swung around, mindful of the kitten's precarious perch, arms loose by her sides. Dean, huh? Not somebody she'd expected to see again so (relatively) soon. And after that whole mess with the memories thing, she'd been sorta hoping for a bit more time to work things out. "You're not lookin' too roughed up today," she greeted lightly, raising an eyebrow. Makes a change. Or maybe it's role reversal.
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He eyed the cat on Yuffie's head and he had to say, she was totally setting herself up for a scratch right in the eyes sooner or later. Somehow he didn't think that kitten was gonna be happy to stay all day on there was a hat. Dean winced at the disaster waiting to happen. He still didn't know what to make of Yuffie - all he knew was he was on the wrong foot and off-balance and right now he didn't need this on top of everything else.
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"Nah, I've been pretty careful," Dean said, keeping his voice not Totally Suspicious Whisper quiet but quiet enough. He wasn't sure how much the nurses thought he improved, if they thought he'd had another relapse or he was still tripping at Eric Derringer and all ready to book it outta here. The thing was knowing who got hit with the Brady Bunch juice and who didn't - judging from the way Yuffie talked, he was pretty sure she was back to her usual punk-ass self, but that didn't say much about yesterday. "Had a real funky time yesterday though."
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"They got you too, then." Just to confirm they were both in the same boat. Sen, Dean, Lulu, herself - how many others? What was pattern? How'd they done it? The third floor was a possibility, but it wasn't even a proper theory. The prick in charge really wasn't pulling his punches this time 'round. "They turned me into a total pansy with all the survival skills of… of… I dunno, an overly enthusiastic suicidal maniac with a machete in one hand and a shotgun in the other." And yet, somehow, Dean had still got through the night without being eaten. Her pride was totally ( ... )
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His eyes flicked over at Sam for a second. They weren't finished with this deal business and on top of that, there was this whole mess with the massive brainwashing and while they hadn't gone over it in detail, Dean was willing to gamble that Sam was probably feeling the same aftereffects he was. Maybe Yuffie too. Had to be some kinda pattern to this, some reason that they got the short end of the stick and others hadn't.
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Shot right in the ego! It was petty of her to think like that, though. Petty and childish and, yeah, kind of irresponsible. So, even though her pride stung and smarted like a recently discovered paper-cut, she kept her reaction off her face and concentrated on (not sulking) matters at hand. "Lucky, huh. I didn't even get out of the patient block before I ran into…" Blake-slash-Yuri-slash-monster. "… Something. It knew." Had it been chilling around that hallway on purpose, knowing that there'd be easy pickings? Totally possible. Or maybe it hadn't known until it'd seen her, which was-eww, monster digging around in her head! Ew. Gross-way too Jenova-like to be comfortable, actually. It made the urge to hunt it down and strike for vengeance all the more tempting ( ... )
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Couldn't say he was too surprised not everyone was wanting to broadcast this. Now he got some people thought they'd been here for longer than a few weeks and by then you started to get to know people. 'Course you wouldn't want any new friends thinking you could lose it any second. It was bad enough when civilians thought that and they weren't the kinda folks you'd expected to see day after day ( ... )
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Work took time-time that they didn't exactly have, thanks to exhibit number two. "That totally wouldn't be a problem, if they were all just run-of-the-mill grossness mutants and if decent kit was easier to come by." Giant zombie cats? 'Kay, yeah, whatever. Evil death squirrels? Pffffft. Gigantic huntsmen with all the trimmings? Yeaaaaah, that was a bit of a doozy. "The ( ... )
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"Had a few," Dean said. With Sam, he'd be spilling anything on any run-ins 'cause that kinda detail was pretty damn important if they were gonna work as a team, but Yuffie was some hunter he'd never met before. Broadcasting too much was a recipe for trouble - you could look weak, inexperienced, or, even worse, incompetent or like a coward who'd rather hide in his room instead of doing his job. After that crap with Gordon, Dean had to say he wasn't as gung-ho about teaming up with other hunters. "I ran into a witch right when I first got here and recently I had a regular salt 'n burn."
No we. Sam might be pissed as hell at him - hey, he didn't blame him - and maybe he was ( ... )
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"Fuzzbutt isn't gonna eat you," Yuffie laughed, sauntering over to the couch that'd been indicated. She made her perch on the arm of it, balance impeccable and legs left to dangle. Fuzzbutt gave a chirrupy meow in agreement-or disagreement, whatever. Maybe the kitten knew just what went on at night, and was secretly biding its time to chow down on the most delicious ninja ever. Considering Landel's track record, that was as likely as any of the alternatives, and it was a good thing Yuffie knew how to do her job. Fuzzbutt was awesome. Crazy psychocat with a taste for human flesh, though? That wasn't awesome; that was target practice and shuriken-bait. Simple as that.
Anyway, what'd Dean been saying? Oh, yeah-witches. Witches, seriously? And salt. Oookay. Yuffie ticked that over for a sec, then nodded, accepting it for what it was (or at least for what it sounded like it should be). "Sounds like you're missing out on the fun stuff," was her dramatic ( ... )
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