Day 56: Bus 3

[full_score]

As the day came to a close, Claude's conversation with Tear weighed heavily on his mind. All the implications hadn't quite sunk in yet, but it unsettled him that she'd been able to feel and experience his time in the basement in such a strong way. Was there some kind of significance behind the fact she'd lived the moment he ran toward Guy in a

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[human_sponge]

After buying his duffel bag, Peter hadn't really known what to do with the rest of his day. He'd tried to track down Claire and see if she had found anything to buy (or to offer her the rest of the money on his card), but that had failed and eventually it had become clear that there wasn't much time left in the day. Seeing how he'd accomplished the one thing that he'd hoped to, he didn't mind that they were now heading back. While returning to the institute was by no means a good thing, it was where he could really get things done and it wasn't as if the town was really any closer to freedom in the first place.

Besides, going back meant that they weren't going to be attacked by zombies, which was always a good thing

[zombiefree]

Instead of buying something useful, like a duffel bag, Wichita spent her five dollars on another cheese burger meal. Yes, another. As soon as she and Scott finished their lunch meet-up date thing, she went right back to the counter to order another. And it wasn't that the first one wasn't filling, it really was. But there was just something about being able to eat a medium-well burger with all the fixings without having to worry about whether or not she would be craving human flesh after that made the temptation impossible to resist. And the fact that she had enough cash to get a milk shake to accompany it made the deal just that much sweeter

[human_sponge]

It wasn't long before Peter was approached by someone who wanted to share his seat with him, which was no surprise considering how many patients there were in comparison to seats. Anyone who got a seat to themselves could consider themselves lucky.

Or maybe not, seeing how in general Peter preferred to have someone to talk to. Not everyone was like that, of course, but he didn't mind at all when a teenage girl approached him. She looked about Claire's age, maybe a bit older, which at least meant he now had some experience with talking to her age group.

"It isn't," he said with a shake of his head, gesturing that she could go ahead and sit down. She looked mildly uncomfortable; maybe she wasn't a fan of buses. A lot of people got carsick in them, after all, and the road from the town to the institute had a lot of twists and turns. "I'm Peter," he greeted her. "You all right?"

[zombiefree]

Wichita grins once he gives her the 'okay', sliding into the seat and slouching down to get comfy right away. Man, this was unreal. She felt Thanksgiving-Stuffed after just a couple burgers and some fries. She was trying not to think about it, maybe if she just focused on something else the stuffedness would take a back-burner, but that wasn't working

[anemptydecapo]

Venom had never been a man to drink away his problems. In all honesty, alcohol usually did nothing more than shift his ever-present depression into a vast reserve of rage, and that did little in terms of temporarily forgetting ones issues. On the last occasion he'd taken to drink, even as little as a bottle of wine was enough that destroying an innocent woman's restaurant in a fit of pique, specifically to murder that witch who had been inside, seemed like not only something he should do but was also a very good idea

[savagesolitude]

[THERE AIN'T NO PARTY LIKE A YANDERE CLUB PARTY]She really ought to have expected something like this. Claire clutched the bag with the bear to her chest, watching the soldier turned orderly pat his hands over another patient's body, covering him from head to toe. She had nothing to hide now. Claire hadn't bothered to try to steal supplies - but she wasn't so keen on the idea of being touched all over either

[damned_soldiers]

Between military mindset and trained hands, the pair couldn't have picked a worse group to make a fuss at

[anemptydecapo]

"NO!!"That panicked shout behind him was enough to distract the assassin's attention, if only for a moment. He knew that voice, however briefly he'd heard it, and he knew that messy blonde hair in the corner of his eyes. That frail woman from the other day

[unheroed]

Speaking with Tyrell hadn't been all bad, but whatever Harvey had been hoping to learn at the inn hadn't presented itself to him. All he could really say was that it seemed likely that the inn wasn't actually used -- or if it was, it wasn't frequented. That made sense, though, since he couldn't see why anyone would choose to come stay in a place like Doyleton. Trying to find enough to do to fill an entire day was like slow torture

sorry I couldn't resist

[boketa]

Goku was ushered back to the bus like a wayward duckling with a half-eaten bag of powdered donuts tucked under one short, muscular arm. He waited in line like the others to board, chewing away at another powdered donut that got more confectionery sugar on his face than down his throat

oh dear...

[unheroed]

So much for resting. Not that Harvey had really had his hopes up

arharharhar

[boketa]

"Ohhhh..." Goku replied as if those three words explained everything. They hadn't; he was just giving his brain time to process. The staring, though, didn't cease, but inevitably he had to deal with the parts of his face his tongue couldn't reach. That's where his hands came in. Rubbing off what he could from his cheeks onto his denim overalls, the young boy continued his silent fascination with the strange person. The silence, though, didn't last long. It never did.

"Were you cookin'?" The monkey boy asked, though he was pretty sure of his answer since that was how he usually got burned. "I was cookin' once and the wolf fell off the spit an' all the uhmm ashes hit me! It hurt a lot!" And the wolf turned out too crispy for his taste. Yeah, that had been a bad day all around.

[yin_yang_fox]

Having the belt taken away was unpleasant, though half-expected. That the man who took it glanced at her and told her she would get it back was a bit more surprising. This was another instance that she was suspicious of--the 'staff' going out of their way to offer her a bit more information. Simply because of her rank? Hm. She didn't quite like it, but she was not going to reject it. She handed the item over, then moved her arms as directed. For the majority, Renamon was fine. More invasive touches came with a slight shudder, and the Digimon was glad of the added layers. Skin to skin contact would have been more than she was able to bear

[shorttank]

Leela had decided by now that it didn't make any difference if she started out with a plan for the night or not, but she was still glad to sort of have one. She was more about beating information out of people than going hunting for paperwork herself. Still, if they managed to find out what those jerkwads had done to Gren, they might also get close to information about how they'd given her two eyes. At the very least, she might find out who to beat up over it

[yin_yang_fox]

This one hadn't been seen before. The Digimon glanced up, distracted momentarily by the bright violet hair. Interesting. And not human. There was something under that, but she waved it aside. Decorum. And such. She shook her head, shifting closer to the window. "Not at all. Go ahead."

Of the feeling, it wasn't as one she could place. That she was coming to recognize certain feels told her she had been here too long, but that was obvious before the query. Renamon glanced at the other, bright eyes watching. "Have you been here long?"

[shorttank]

Leela smiled her thanks, and sat down. "Long enough! It's been a week today. How about you?" It was funny how some things had stopped seeming distractingly weird, like looking totally human, and seeing out of two eyes.

And some things would probably never stop being weird, like glancing out the window and seeing pine trees that weren't artificial. They probably still used them as Xmas trees in this time. And of course the whole concept of the place, but that was, disturbingly, more background weird by now. Leela guessed that if you came from a time and place where Robot Hell was real, you were more mentally equipped than most to deal with insane asylums that were more insane than their inmates.

[stlg13bomber]

[Hi, Claude!]

Boy, these guards were a lot more handsy than the Stalag 13 guards. It was as if they knew Carter had smuggled his last text out of town by sticking it in an oft-unsearched area and hoping the nurses would be too embarrassed to check. "They're just books," Carter protested as his legs were patted down. "I can't hurt anyone with a book."

"Everything gets confiscated, that's the rules," the guard said in a dull monotone, obviously having gotten tired of repeating it to every complaining prisoner. Carter made a sad little whine, but kept still as they searched the rest of him. At least he'd get them back eventually and oh boy, then he'd know everything.

"Get anything nice today?" he asked his seatmate as he sat down, hands fidgeting in his lap. "I got two books. I think it's real nice that they're letting us have a little money now, my last prison camp didn't even let us go to town."

[full_score]

[Hi, Carter! :D]He hadn't expected a stranger to take a seat beside him, much less pick up a conversation as if they knew each other. Claude perked up and turned his gaze away from the window. He studied the other man for a moment -- they'd never met, but he thought he'd seen him around the institute before. He seemed like he was several years Claude's senior, but there was something boyish about the way he asked after his purchases

[stlg13bomber]

Batteries, huh? Carter hadn't thought of anything like that.

There was some screaming going on outside, on the other side of the bus from their window. Carter half-stood but couldn't quite figure out what was going on--probably just some prisoners making trouble again. Colonel Hogan would've whipped 'em into shape. He hoped nobody got shot or gassed again.

"Before I got kidnapped here I was at German prisoner of war camp," he said, sitting back down. "It wasn't nearly as nice as this place. If we wanted to go into town we had to escape out of camp and pay for beer with our own money, and then come back again." Well. It was their money in that they'd had it made up by native craftsmen.

[full_score]

Claude heard the commotion too, though he couldn't get any better idea of what was happening than the guy next to him. Whatever it was, he hoped it wasn't serious. The last thing everyone needed was to spend tomorrow morning scrubbing down the bathrooms or something. Not only that, but he didn't want to see anyone have to do a bunch of push-ups and go without food tomorrow. Yesterday had been bad enough.

Either way, there wasn't much he could do about that, so he did his best to focus on the other patient. He hadn't expected to learn he came from a German POW camp, of all places.

"Seriously?" he asked, unable to contain his surprise. "So that means you're a soldier?" The man had said something odd, though. "Wait, if you were able to leave for town and get a drink, why would you sneak back in?"