Day 60: Patient Library (Third Shift)

[poorexample]

After handling two conversations that had been difficult for completely different reasons, Castiel had to admit that he felt weary. It was not a sensation that was new to him; between Izaya showing far too much interest in his kind and Ruby simply being who she was, some peace and quiet was what he craved

Comments

[unheroed]

As it turned out, talking to Scott for a shift hadn't been as bad as he would have expected. Harvey still didn't think that Scott was as mature as he should have been for his age, but at the same time, it was probably a good thing that this place hadn't beaten his childishness out of him just yet. Maybe Scott was just that stubborn. There was nothing wrong with that, really, so long as it didn't get him killed

[toxicspiderman]

Eating in the library was like farting in church. Everyone did it, but you were supposed to pretend it didn't happen. S.T. had planned to take his lunchbox outside, until he'd seen Harvey disappear through the library door. He'd been talking to Scott this morning. (Associations were kind of hard to hide when they were all shoved into two little rooms.)

Time to work on Plan B. A.k.a. post-death-and-resurrection strategizing. Not that either of them had had to die. Or even fight. He could eat his lunch after they talked, if he still had an appetite.

"Hey. Long time no see. You and Scott come up with a plan, or were you just shooting the breeze?"

[unheroed]

Suddenly it was like everyone was coming out of the woodwork. Harvey glanced over as Sangamon walked up to him, wondering if the man had expressly followed him here. It was either that or he was also looking for a place where people would be quiet and intelligent.

Harvey figured that Sangamon's strength was his brains rather than his brawn, though, so maybe he wouldn't be such a bad conversation partner. He paused when the man mentioned Scott, feeling strangely violated by the realization that Sangamon had noticed. But in the end he realized it didn't matter.

"We talked about last night, mainly," he replied with a shrug. "But I think whether we do anything tonight depends on how Jones is feeling." Harvey didn't know if he'd be healed enough yet, so he wasn't going to plan on anything. "Haven't heard from him yet today, but he should be fine." He'd been with him the whole night and he knew that Jones hadn't been in any real danger. Maybe he was just getting some extra rest; he probably needed it.

[toxicspiderman]

"Makes sense." He hadn't seen Indy either, so he couldn't add anything to that theory. "Better than talking more new kids out of splattering themselves all over the walls." Raph was alive, which was something.

"You see anything last night? All I saw was a pissed off teenager, a kinky alien, and a lot of monster guts." He hadn't even seen Javert's team, unless some of that blood was theirs.

He found a chair and sat down on it, backwards. "What the fuck was that, anyway?"

[hasnomeaning]

She would have to be forgiven for remaining on the fact. Of the simple aspect of losing three days. It was not as if time was stable; it fluxuated and shifted, giving and taking both, but here was a loss, and even she as she was could feel it. The perfect solitude of an empty moment. The spark of vertigo without the memory of a fall. She would adapt, to be certain. But she was having a hard time.

When given the option, she turned towards quiet. A library and books gave softness, silence, and she was willing to accept it. She needed more answers but she lacked the questions. At the least she could just allow her mind to take in that fact. Three days. She supposed she had lost worse, in the end.

[Byrne]

[corvus_veritas]

Well. Last shift had certainly been...interesting, to say the least. As soon as the intercom broadcast was over, Byrne received his sack lunch from his nurse and slipped into the library. (Were they really going to let people eat food in here? That's kind of unusual for a library, but whatever.) After last shift, spending a little time alone in a quieter area of the Institute was most preferred at the moment. Otherwise he would have opted for the Courtyard if it weren't so damn cold out.

As he began considering whether he should actually get a book to read or just sit in a chair quietly, however, he caught sight of someone in the library that took him by complete surprise. Someone familiar. Someone...who wasn't supposed to be here anymore, if a certain bulletin board conversation was to be believed.

ReiByrne's eyes widened slightly. Really? It was Rei? She hadn't been 'released' after all? He didn't know whether to feel relieved or sickened at the discovery, honestly. It really depended on what 'being released' actually meant, and

[hasnomeaning]

Silence came as flawed. There still existed the murmur of tones, the sound of others moving and shifting things. All dulled, all too loud to her senses. She leaned against the side of a book case, eyes closed in an attempt for, if not peace, then calm. An attempt that would serve faulty.

Her brief sanctuary of mind was broken by her name being called. There was a brief moment of vertigo, of questioning (Rei. Rei Ayanami. That is who I am.) and then her mind placed the speaker as an adult male. Few here knew her name, less fit that category. In that, then.... Her eyes opened to the man's face, red eyes almost wary. She had not forgotten how he had lacked the power to believe what she had tried to say. "Byrne Faraday."

Was it really her? A strange query. "...It's me."

[corvus_veritas]

She remembered him, at least. What was going on here, then? At her reaction to his surprise, Byrne shook his head and looked more apologetic. "Sorry, I'm just...I was told you got released, so I'm just surprised to see you here."

Again, he wasn't sure whether it was good or bad that she was back, so he settled with saying he was surprised rather than saying relieved or disappointed. He also wasn't sure how she felt about him after...god, that's right, after that one lunch together. Where she claimed she had read his mind, and he'd been a complete jerk to her for it. He'd felt regretful when he learned she'd been released, that he hadn't tried to contact her sooner to be able to apologize before she'd left. Well, now that she was here, apologies could finally be made. That was good, at least.

But only after she explained why and how she was back, as that was an even bigger concern right now. "I'm glad to see you're alright, in any case. What happened?" There was heavy concern in his voice; his parental instincts were quickly taking

[spandexorgtfo]

A "free range shift". It sounded so pleasant, but really, it was nothing more than what happened at a later point in the day, except now with brown bag lunches

[poorexample]

Castiel was still only halfway through his account when someone walked up to him. He glanced up at the sound of footsteps echoing through the mainly empty room, though he could also hear voices from near the entrance. It was still quiet enough for him to work without much distraction, particularly because the one who had come to join him was Kratos

[spandexorgtfo]

He was in the middle of reading the first few lines (--What was this forest savage, rough, and stern, Which in the very thought renews the fear...) when Castiel made some comment about the whole thing being a work of fiction. Kratos looked up just in time to see the other look back down and continue writing, daily dose of literary enlightenment delivered

[poorexample]

The response was clipped, but that was what Castiel had expected. He left Kratos to absorb Dante's words while he wrote down his own. His were not meant to be anything but straightforward, however. There was no art in them. Angels weren't meant to be creative in the first place; they were simply supposed to carry out tasks. While he had moved past that in many ways, he wasn't at the point where he was making poetry out of the things he'd witnessed.

A few more minutes passed in silence while he finished off the report. Once it was done, he set his pen down and read it through, searching for any spots that might be unclear or inaccurate. There were none.

"When you're done, I have something to share with you," he said, nodding down to the note. "My hope is to pass this information on to as many people as I can. I saw something of importance last night." With any luck, Kratos would be able to copy the words down rather than taking the whole note with him. Castiel would rather hold onto the original for the ease of being able to pass

[melodists]

Javert was dead. Peter had yet to respond to her note. If last night's efforts could be considered a success, well, Tear could rightfully be called delusional. Unlike this morning, she could set aside her failings in light of today's discoveries. Her group had been fine; they could continue the investigation of the chapel another night. On her own, too, if necessary

[yin_yang_fox]

Of the individuals spoken with, there remained yet one that Renamon had yet to meet with today, and to that end, she had perched on the end of a couch in the sun room, waiting and watching the movement of the populace until the one she wanted came into view, then slipped into the library. The Digimon rose from her position and quietly followed the other girl, allowing space to fill between them until Tear settled herself, focused on a notebook.

How familiar. It pleased her somewhat, the similarities. Of mindsets, Tear was likely the closest Renamon would find to someone much like her own. She approached the other, stopping at the edge of the table to bow her head in greeting. "Tear. I wanted to thank you for the other night."

Among other things, but that would do to start.

[melodists]

By the time Tear had names and competencies sorted in neat lists, she caught an approaching patient in her peripheral. As the woman was both a working acquaintance and seemingly intent on interaction, Tear looked up from her notes and met the other's eye. "Oh, Renamon." Before she could pay her proper greetings, however, Renamon had opened with a phrase she had trouble placing.

She's thanking me? Wouldn't it be more appropriate for Tear to offer gratitude? Mildly confused, she gestured to the adjacent seat, a silent invitation for the other to join her if wanted. "May I ask what for?" she asked, emotions obvious. "If anything, I probably need to thank you again for the weapon."

[yin_yang_fox]

She moved to accept the invitation, pulling out the seat and sitting quietly. The question came as something mildly amusing, and Renamon raised an eyebrow. "A weapon you returned," she pointed out. "Though was it that forgettable? You helped heal me faster, and that meant more than I can say. I'm in your debt."

Because Renamon was uncomfortable with being helped by others. And more to the point-- She remembered too well the price of certain healings. "To that," she went on, without allowing an interruption. "I've come with an offer. Two, actually." The Digimon looked at the girl steadily. "I can get to Doyleton at night, as I've told you. I know where there's a doctor's office, and I wanted to know if you would want supplies."

She inclined her head slightly. "That would be my repayment to you. The other is an offer of exploration. I'm planning to go to the basement with a group soon, and we could use a medic on hand who's a competent individual. From what I know you're intelligent, and you fit that. Would you be interested?"

[terriblehaiku]

Well, this was an interesting change. After spending all his time being herded from one place to another without any real free will, he was being left to his own devices. Which meant he could find someplace quiet, relatively free from annoyance, and eat his lunch. Preferably someplace Souji wouldn't be.

Not that he didn't like the younger man's company, but he'd really suffered enough food-related embarrassment for one day.

Thankfully, the library was free of Shinsengumi captains, so there wasn't any issue with him slipping in, snagging the poetry book he'd been looking at the previous day off the shelf, and then settling in at an empty table with his food.

[For Niikura]

[oneman_onekill]

Bagged lunches weren't very exciting, but Niikura swiftly reminded himself that he could be confined to the cafeteria with yet another bowl of pink goop sitting in front of him. And that? That automatically made bagged lunches the best thing ever

[terriblehaiku]

The quiet was nice, the lunch was tolerable, and his book was interesting--all in all, Hijikata was almost enjoying himself, up to the moment someone walked smack into his chair. The spike of irritation that caused, however, was almost immediately overtaken by a sense of inevitability.

This was how things always went, even back home. If it hadn't been this, it would have been something else. So instead of barking some angry retort, he just sighed and gave the individual a mildly disgruntled look.

"No, you most definitely weren't. Be more careful."

[oneman_onekill]

"Don't have to tell me twice," Niikura muttered, although it was without any hint of resentment. As polished as Akumetsu was, the fact still remained that Shou was a teenager who was still growing into his height and dealing with that stupid awkward phase where he was just a bit too lanky for his own good.

He leaned over and peered at the other man's book, completely disregarding any concept of personal space. "Poetry, huh? Cool." Not really, but he didn't want to accidentally insult someone's taste in literature--well, he took that back. Some poetry was alright. Most of it didn't make any sense, and required too much thinking to change that.