Day 32: Lunch

[damnrudecock]

Sanosuke hadn't quite been ready to part ways from Kenshin, but his nurse was insistent, and she was offering food. That second thing was what really got Sano off the couch and headed to the cafeteria. And at the very least, the thing about Okita had been settled, which meant the fighter could focus on his meal

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[whohitreset]

Sonuvabitch. The cafeteria was crowded with people as Matt's nurse lead him in by the arm. He could see the faces of those about ten feet away at most. After that everything started to become a blur of colors and shapes. He knew it was futile, but he squinted anyway to no effect. Bugger allFinally, and with a much amused glance from his nurse that he tried his best to ignore, the young man pulled out the hideous glasses from where he'd tucked them on his waistband. Everything came into focus immediately, but damn the irritating pressure on his ears! "You sure there's not a better pair?" he grumbled

[whohitreset]

And there was the shifting of blame. Matt sighed in a way that made it a half-growl, running a hand through sloppy bangs. Sorry, Matt. It's not my fault I didn't take into account that Takada's bodyguards would be fanatics to the nth degree. Not important enough to make the list, apparently.

But he'd agreed to this mess all the same. He couldn't entirely blame Mello, either.

"You say 'group,'" Matt's face was once again covered by his hands. "Who else is here?" There were any number of people connected to that book, and Matt didn't recognize anyone else's faces right off the bat.

[cnflctofintrst]

"You'll probably see the two people we were watching," he said, choosing his words carefully and studying Matt for a reaction. It would be up to L to introduce himself, and Matt had only heard of Naomi in passing.

"If someone doesn't appear here when they die, they fork off of their living counterpart and the living one stays in the real world. The man here doesn't know about us. I don't think he knows anything that happened after autumn of 2004." L hadn't been firm on the matter, but Light looked years younger than the man Mello remembered, and if people were pulled here out of significant points in their timeline, as he suspected, it would make sense.

[whohitreset]

Matt was back to staring. Now that? That was just plain confusing. It would make more sense if this was just some sort of crazy afterlife, but he hadn't yet put together the idea that these people taken from different times and places might not have all been dead when they were taken.

"Fork off...? An alternate timeline?" So there was then more than one of this person in existence? He thought a few Star Trek episodes had handled this issue, but that series just made shit up all the time anyway and he hadn't bothered following it very well. "From 2004?" That was a good six years ago, going by his time at least. It was the year...

The year when L died. Significant points. Right.

"This is such crazy shit." He wanted to shove down every little voice in his head that told him Mello wouldn't play games with him, would lie and make up sill reasons for why he was there. But he couldn't. Mello simply didn't.

[cnflctofintrst]

"Well, you were going to figure it out sooner or later," Mello pointed out. "I figured I'd save you the effort." Unlike L, he thought with a flicker of annoyance.

He took a bite of pizza and chewed as he shifted his weight to balance his chair on two legs, making it easier to cross his ankles. "It's not an alternate timeline," he said. "I don't think it's a timeline at all. More like a nexus."

He'd hurt Matt's brain enough for one day. "Anyway," he said, hoping to shift the subject from the theoretical and put Matt back on solid ground, "It's not easy to get cigarettes. I hear there's some kind of black market, but you should probably just kick the habit."

If Matt came across anything worth trading, Mello was sure there'd be a better use for it.

[whohitreset]

The look Matt gave Mello after he said that was half disbelief and half angry glare. Kick the habit? It was easy enough for the blond to say. Maybe if he came across any chocolate while he was here he'd just taunt his friend with it. Oh, but that would be a different case. He could hear Mello's argument already - that chocolate wasn't as valuable a trading commodity (and not as harmful! He was only looking out for Matt's wellbeing). He snorted, shoving his tray aside. "Fuck you."

It would be better, but you didn't just demand that of someone! Especially not someone in the utterly confused position Matt was currently in

[cnflctofintrst]

"That's why I haven't told you my room number," Mello replied, his voice matter-of-fact as if he'd already considered the possibility and managed the associated risks. Although he strongly doubted Matt would kill him (let alone be physically capable of it), he couldn't discount the possibility that his friend wouldn't take well to dying.

"That's another thing," he continued as he wiped the grease from his fingertips. "We don't sleep like normal; we kind of pass out in the middle of whatever we're doing and wake up in bed. You could only do it if you caught me sleeping during the day, and I've got better stuff to do than that."

Which was true, regardless of whether he actually accomplished it.

[whohitreset]

At what point was Mello going to stop? Next he'd find out that after dark everyone's clothing turned into aluminum foil which could be used to bounce back the evil mind-control lasers that the monsters carried around. This was more than surreal.

"Like a sort of controlled narcolepsy?" Matt frowned. "Everyone at once, or-- you know what, don't bother. I'm sure I'll see it for myself. Or not see it, as the case may be." His head was already starting to hurt from the sudden onslaught of impossible information, and he didn't even have a cigarette to calm his nerves with.

"About catching you asleep during the day, though," he couldn't help but add to help lighten his mood, "... how's the caffeine withdrawal coming along?"

[cnflctofintrst]

Mello made a sound that was more than an incomprehensible grunt but less than an actual word. If he'd properly verbalized it, it would have been profane.

"There's tea," he said in a tone that made it clear exactly what he thought of tea, "but for all I know, it might be decaf." It was sadistic enough for this place. His thumbs were still intact, but he figured the torn skin around his other fingernails spoke for itself.

[whohitreset]

"Tea?" Matt made a bit of a face himself. "Not even soda? Shit." What sort of proper eating establishment had pizza but no soda to go with it?

The same sort that had monsters running about at night, apparently.

At least he knew he wasn't going to be alone in suffering the loss of vices. Mello's might seem sillier, but for someone who ate practically nothing but chocolate for years, such a change was going to hit him pretty hard. When he was feeling less vindictive, he might feel some pity. Maybe.

The hated glasses slid partway down his nose and he instinctively pushed them back up with one finger, hating himself for the action even before he'd finished.

[cnflctofintrst]

"Not even coffee," Mello said, stifling another yawn. How long were people asleep, every night? He couldn't use himself as a benchmark in this condition, and although most people looked exhausted, he doubted any amount of sleep in this place could leave someone feeling rested

[whohitreset]

The question got an eyebrow raise out of Matt. "Scraps? Oh yeah. Why, just week I constructed a hard drive out of a couple coke cans, some chewing gum, and a few paper clips."

He sighed, leaning forward on the table. "It depends on what I needed made. I can salvage old equipment, sure, but having the right parts to begin with would be the issue. That's delicate stuff. What exactly did you have in mind? I'm not a miracle worker." Mello obviously had a plan, and it was most likely a plan they'd be capable of achieving in this environment, but he was still allowed to be wary when the blond started mentioning 'scraps' while referring to the sort of equipment Matt was familiar with.

[cnflctofintrst]

Mello rolled his eyes, though there was nothing malicious in the movement. "I'll tell you what we have," he started before he pressed his feet against the table and again leaned his chair onto two legs. "Unlimited radios. They're about this big," he gestured a space of less than a foot with his hands, "and they're classic radio tech, old. You can modify them into two-ways. There are a few electronic games in the game room, but don't get excited. You'd be better off playing hangman. However." He paused again, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. It felt good to assume this role after the last twenty four hours of lethargy. "The institute keeps hard records in two file rooms. I haven't seen any computers. Based on the drugs they use to sedate people, this place can't be older than the mid 90s. If they're not using an electronic database, there's a reason for it

[whohitreset]

[*just last week - FAIL. I can't even joke without making a typo in a post!]

Better off playing Hangman? Matt glared again. Clearly Mello had no idea what he was talking about, but he wasn't going to start arguing about it. Not yet, anyway. He took note of the fact that there was a game room. Paying it a visit would definitely be on his to-do list.

"If time moves weird here..." He gave the matter some serious consideration, "then there might not even be any guarantee that any sort of clock would work here even if we made one. Are we allowed to go outside here at all? If so, you may want to try something like a sundial first off." Timepieces were a difficult thing to work with. A few radios wouldn't be enough to get the right pieces - especially not older radios.

"I might be able to rig up something digital - but that's a big maybe. Not with the radios, but some handheld games, even the real old ones, have digital numbering systems I might be able to alter. None of those keep the time?"

[cnflctofintrst]

"I hope the clock doesn't work," Mello said without hesitation. "Then we'd know that time itself's being affected and not our perception of it." The idea of the laws of the universe being broken was far less unsettling than the idea of something in himself being broken.

Matt seemed to be adjusting quickly despite the initial shock, which Mello was grateful for. He'd rather not lose time waiting for someone else to work through the existential questions he'd managed to avoid.

"A sundial wouldn't help," he continued. "All of this happens at night. And yeah, none of the games keep time." He hadn't checked, but based on the care Landel took in other matters, he wouldn't make such a stupid mistake. "We could build an analog clock, maybe. But we'd need two to compare." Although Mello understood the principles of timekeeping, he didn't know the mechanics. If he didn't know, he was sure Matt wouldn't, but it was possible that L or someone else in the institute was capable of providing diagrams if not direct assistance.