Yet another intercom jingle sounded, and the nurses, anticipating the Head Doctor's orders, already began grouping around the patients as he began to speak
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Well. What a fitting way to end a remarkably infuriating day. At breakfast, von Karma had run into the idealistic young girl who had witnessed him fleeing from that demon last night. Then he encountered that wretched idiot Kibitoshin in the greenhouse, reminding him of what happened to him on the day following his experimental torture. And now... he had just learned that the Head Lunatic had released -- released -- the brat, of all people!
So, of course, he was in no mood to talk to his asinine roommate as he sat down at his desk to eat dinner.
But unlike the prior days, even the fare served for the evening meal was hardly better than the breakfast and lunch offerings earlier in the day. The spaghetti was tolerable (he had learned in his youth how to eat it without causing a single splatter of sauce to fly across the room as most unsophisticated fools did), but the stench from the garlic bread was nauseating. He had already refused lunch due to the pungent odors of fried fish and that flagrant case of salmonella food poisoning waiting to happen. Thankfully, the nurse had not left yet and was willing to dispose the malodorous bread for him, so long as he "ate every bite of everything else on his plate, now." Of course she had to punctuate that with another wag of her finger.
Stabbing at his salad, von Karma again cursed Martin Landel. It was more than bad enough that the hateful administrator had employed nurses who seemed to enjoy mocking the prosecutor, that he regularly unleashed creatures at night to test von Karma's low threshold for humiliation, and that he had subjected him to a dangerous experiment followed by a day of brainwashing.
But releasing Edgeworth. Releasing him. Away from his mentor's grasp. While the mentor himself was still held captive within these despicable walls.
Death was too good for the smarmy Landel.
[OOC: Why yes, he's barely holding back a rage-gasm, why do you ask? X3 But despite his mood as described in the prose, Ratchet is more than welcome to piss him off further shoot the breeze with him. :3 ]
Driven solely by the fact that he was tired of feeling shaky and weak from low fuel reserves, Ratchet focused his attention on the white stuff (with garnish of mysterious brown stuff), the only part of the meal that didn't have a weird smell. It somehow managed to be even colder than the plant chunks had been, but it made up for this by not needing to be chewed. Much better.
There was nothing else to look at, and so Ratchet found himself studying the method his roommate used to eat the disgusting pile they'd been given as a fuel source. It was strange, how dainty the man was about consuming something so foul.
Engrossed in his thoughts as he methodically twirled the spaghetti against the bowl of the spoon, the starchy strands amassing into neat bundles around his fork, von Karma had already taken a few bites before he noticed that the other man was staring at him. Already at the end of his patience, the prosecutor set down the utensils and shot a scathing glance at his roommate.
After a moment of casting that baleful look, von Karma snapped his fingers at the man. "Insolent fool. Has no one taught you how rude it is to stare at someone while he's eating?" Then his gaze fell upon the other's plate. Scoffing at the mess upon it, he continued, "Hmph. But why should this surprise me? Your table manners are deplorable. Just like the rest of the idiots in the general masses. Not a single one of you seems capable of learning how to eat spaghetti properly."
I just know they're going to be BFFwar_woundsFebruary 10 2010, 18:32:10 UTC
Oh, that organic did not just snap his digits at him! To say nothing of what the man had actually said... After a moment's sputtering (and meatbag static just couldn't achieve much nuance, could it?), Ratchet got his vocalizer working again. "Well, look who's Mr. Polished Chrome! Spaghetti, is that what this slag's called?" Even the word sounded unpleasant.
Struck by sudden inspiration, and too incensed to consider whether or not the idea was a good one, Ratchet picked up a handful of the stuff, wincing at the squishiness of it. "You're the master then," he said, a devilish glint in his optics. "Show this idiot how it's done!" With that, he lobbed the glob of noodles and sauce at the uppity organic's face.
So, of course, he was in no mood to talk to his asinine roommate as he sat down at his desk to eat dinner.
But unlike the prior days, even the fare served for the evening meal was hardly better than the breakfast and lunch offerings earlier in the day. The spaghetti was tolerable (he had learned in his youth how to eat it without causing a single splatter of sauce to fly across the room as most unsophisticated fools did), but the stench from the garlic bread was nauseating. He had already refused lunch due to the pungent odors of fried fish and that flagrant case of salmonella food poisoning waiting to happen. Thankfully, the nurse had not left yet and was willing to dispose the malodorous bread for him, so long as he "ate every bite of everything else on his plate, now." Of course she had to punctuate that with another wag of her finger.
Stabbing at his salad, von Karma again cursed Martin Landel. It was more than bad enough that the hateful administrator had employed nurses who seemed to enjoy mocking the prosecutor, that he regularly unleashed creatures at night to test von Karma's low threshold for humiliation, and that he had subjected him to a dangerous experiment followed by a day of brainwashing.
But releasing Edgeworth. Releasing him. Away from his mentor's grasp. While the mentor himself was still held captive within these despicable walls.
Death was too good for the smarmy Landel.
[OOC: Why yes, he's barely holding back a rage-gasm, why do you ask? X3 But despite his mood as described in the prose, Ratchet is more than welcome to piss him off further shoot the breeze with him. :3 ]
Reply
There was nothing else to look at, and so Ratchet found himself studying the method his roommate used to eat the disgusting pile they'd been given as a fuel source. It was strange, how dainty the man was about consuming something so foul.
Reply
After a moment of casting that baleful look, von Karma snapped his fingers at the man. "Insolent fool. Has no one taught you how rude it is to stare at someone while he's eating?" Then his gaze fell upon the other's plate. Scoffing at the mess upon it, he continued, "Hmph. But why should this surprise me? Your table manners are deplorable. Just like the rest of the idiots in the general masses. Not a single one of you seems capable of learning how to eat spaghetti properly."
Reply
Struck by sudden inspiration, and too incensed to consider whether or not the idea was a good one, Ratchet picked up a handful of the stuff, wincing at the squishiness of it. "You're the master then," he said, a devilish glint in his optics. "Show this idiot how it's done!" With that, he lobbed the glob of noodles and sauce at the uppity organic's face.
Reply
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