Day 52: Lunch

[purpletaint]

[from here]It was a race. A fight against patience and a Song's call. Still, the sedation's dredges churned through him. Two close at hand had a potent effect--much like the night that they were left in that town, and the morning after. Rubedo had came then. Came for them like something out of place, and wasn't that so ironic afterwards--when

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[longlivetehking]

At least the conversation with the thus far nameless male had been a civil one. But the library shift came to its end, allowing Scar the pleasure of trying to eat human meals again. Though today's had been familiar from previous lunch times, the former lion couldn't quite say he knew what to make of it; random supposedly edible ingredients thrown together into some sort of supposedly edible container...what sort of mind thought of such things?

A few bites into his lunch after acquiring a seat were enough for Scar to decide that he wasn't hungry enough for this pathetic excuse for food, instead idly taking sips of what was the only good thing on the menu of these humans; milk.

With little to distract him, it was perhaps to be expected that he would begin thinking of things he'd rather forget. His thoughts led him to the question plaguing him all day, one that he was attempting to avoid but failing horribly at it.

Would it happen again? What if it would happen again?

He frowned at the barely touched food in front of him.

[The

[scarefaux]

[Sorry this is late!]After a shift spent attempting to confer with one of the cats usually roaming about the Sun Room (and still being surprised that none of them seemed to be able to talk- he was going to have to get used to that), the Scarecrow couldn't get to the Cafeteria fast enough- he'd spotted Scar heading from the Library toward the end of the shift, and was bound and determined to make sure he was all right. With one more brief look at the bulletin board and a farewell nod to the cat, he followed his nurse to lunch

[longlivetehking]

Scar's eyes widened in surprise when something suddenly tumbled into his field of vision. After blinking, he noticed it had been none other than the Scarecrow who had nearly tripped into the seat across him, sending his food flying from the plate ont he tray. Had the former lion been in a better mood, he may have thanked his luck for avoiding any possible incoming food.

Immediately, the other man uttered an exclamation followed by a question. As touching as the obvious concern was, the former lion didn't wish to be reminded of last night. The blatant 'investigation' of his eyes earned the Scarecrow a glare in response. Realizing that he was required to answer, however, he said:

"...it would seem it was temporary," He attempted to keep his voice neutral, but he couldn't keep the bitterness seeping through his voice. Temporary or not, it was obvious that Scar wasn't pleased.

[scarefaux]

"Boy, is that a relief to hear," the Scarecrow said with a growing smile. "For a while, I was worried it might not come back at all." Or worse, that something would have found them while they waited for it to do so- worse than trying to get a frightened lion to face his fears was having one who couldn't even see said fears if they were only an inch from him. The Scarecrow supposed he could have taken Scar's arm and tried to pull him in one direction, assuming he'd budge. Who knew fetching a diploma could be so-

The diploma! In the mess of the night before, the Scarecrow had completely forgotten about it. He seemed to be thinking okay for now, but who knew how long that would last? He'd have to try again another night. For now, there was a conversation at hand

[longlivetehking]

"I realize that quite well, thank you," Scar snapped, his voice still retaining the prior bitterness. The thought had been going through his head all day, and the mere idea of experiencing something like that again filled him with dread. The anger wasn't necessarily directed to the patient seated in front of him, but that hardly stopped the former lion from snapping; he wasn't in the state of mind to even care.

He leaned back in his chair, glaring at the barely-touched food in front of him as he prodded it with an eating utensil as if it could leap off his plate any moment, before he heard something of interest. Gladly taking the opportunity for a distraction (more or less), Scar asked on a calmer tone:

"You have had sleep studies as well?"

[scarefaux]

He may not have had a brain, but the Scarecrow could tell by the tone of his response that Scar wasn't feeling much better, despite the fact that his vision had returned. He wasn't too hurt about it- the lion had been through a harsh ordeal, what with having been through the Sleep Studies and finding himself stricken blind without warning and all

[longlivetehking]

"How terribly lucky for you," Scar commented bitterly, the glare worsening. He had hoped changing the subject from him to someone else would've made him feel better, but it just so happened to be the contrary. After all, no one had bothered to come for him, and the former lion had never been able to deal well with those more fortunate than he was. Even if - realistically speaking - no one could have known with that useless lump of a roommate being asleep for the whole time.

And there was only one other person who could've known, but he'd rather die than having von Karma come to his rescue.

His own head still throbbed painfully, though the pain had began to lessen a bit. He released a sigh, once more making an attempt to move the conversation (and his train of thought) away from his own experience.

"So they messed with your head?" he asked, not looking up from his glare to the meal. It was a miracle the food hadn't caught fire by now.

[scarefaux]

"Cut into it," the Scarecrow said, doing just that to his taco, attempting to saw it in half with his fork and knife. He found he wasn't very successful, the contents spilling all over his plate from the open ends. "Then stitched up the hole like a piece of cloth, but not before putting in a clever little thing. The whole thing was undeniably fascinating..."

He paused, his smile fading. Though it had been days since his Sleep Study, he couldn't help but feel that tingling in his back as he thought about being strapped to the table, unable to move, the stiff frame of his body working against him as he struggled against the restraints; there was the doctor's cold tone, his senses fading, the screen- much like the one on which he'd seen himself in The Wizard of Oz- and the dreaded rattling. The memory of that night was scarred into him

[longlivetehking]

"...I see," Scar responded a bit uncertainly before growing silent himself. The experience was scarily similar to his own, making his attempt to steer the subject away from said experience quite the failure. He'd much rather forget about the whole thing, pretend it had never existed, that no one had cut open his head and had done something to his brain, that he hadn't-- that he hadn't...

They had messed up everything! His grip on the eating utensil tightened, stabbing a stray piece of food lying on his plate as a pathetic attempt to release some of his anger. They did this to him!

"It is all their fault," he said in a low, angry whisper. The comment was audible enough to be heard by his lunch companion, but it was hardly directed at anyone.