Day 41: Breakfast

[oftemptation]

Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute

Comments

[arc_wrench]

Aaah, HK felt so good this refueling shift!

...Well, he was back to being a meatbag, and that was still a complete and total disappointment, but he'd been a droid for the night! He'd gone out and shot things! Oh, it was all he could do to keep a manic, insane grin off of his pliable meatbag faceplate.

He'd even gotten to use his flamethrower, too!

[free as a neurotic killer robot bird!]

[broken_exorcist]

Allen was feeling pretty sore the next morning when the nurse woke him for breakfast. She claimed he'd had an accident, but it didn't explain the knife wounds on his chest and side, not to mention all the other bruises. He couldn't believe he'd failed! Maybe he could've won if Tyki hadn't had that knife, but there was no use arguing about it now. At least it gave him reason to check up on the Noah every night, just to make sure he wasn't hurting any of the humans here.

The nurse escorted him to the lunchline and he took ample helpings of everything he could get his hands on, heaping it all on his tray before she pushed him to a table. At least the other person sitting there seemed to be in a good mood, even if something was not quite right about them. There were so many patients who were possible Akuma he couldn't be at all sure anymore.

"Good morning," Allen said, trying to be at least a little cheerful despite his injuries. He took a seat across from the man. "I'm Allen Walker, what's your name?"

[arc_wrench]

HK's head snapped up in a rather unnaturally precise movement to look at the meatbag who'd just sat down across from him. "Greeting: Good morning, meatbag! I am designated HK-47. I am an assassin droid, despite this squishy chassis my processor has been stuffed into in this place." His voice was incredibly cheerful, but his face was totally blank. After spending last night in his droid body, he was feeling even more unsure about facial expressions.

[broken_exorcist]

Allen startled a little when the man moved so abruptly. There were so many things wrong with the greeting itself that he didn't even know where to start. Meatbag? Had he really just been called a Meatbag?

"HK-47... like, letters and numbers?" Or maybe it was just... European or something. Eich Kay? He didn't want to seem rude, but... that was a little much, wasn't it?

"N-nice to meet you," he remembered to add. He knew way too well what an assassin was, but droids or chassis... it was all gibberish to him. "Um... I'm sorry, but, what's a droid, exactly?"

[iwhipthefool]

[Free. Limit: any]

"Unhand me!" Struggle as she might, however, the dumb brute wouldn't do as he was told. He'd even been so precocious as to take her journal away. That was hers! Even if she didn't really want it, it had been in her desk and that meant it was her property. She'd have it back and have the orderly on his knees begging forgiveness for manhandling her before the journey was through! "I said, unhand mePulling her arm roughly away, Franziska whirled around and snapped the journal from the man's hands, giving him a particularly icy glare. "Try that again and you'll have nothing to look forward to next pay period," she threatened. The words didn't seem to affect him, however, and he left her near an empty table as Janice came over with a tray of decidedly unappetizing food

[iwhipthefool]

Her eyes closed, one hand methodically gripping and releasing her left sleeve, Franziska waited for the phone call to come in. This place was not going to put a blemish on her perfect record in Germany. If it did, she'd call outstanding circumstances and have it erased from everyone's memory. They'd do well to forget if they knew what was good for them.

When she heard the chair across from her slide out, Franziska looked up, fully expecting to see an apologetic nurse and instead receiving another 'patient' with a shaved head. Lovely. She was going to be forced to converse with the peasantry. Remaining silent for a moment while waiting for her companion to introduce himself, she eventually got tired of waiting and said, "Well? Name and occupation. I haven't got all day."

[clockmongler]

[Free for threading. Limit: 3]

Luxord was incredibly displeased to find himself alone in the morning.

Be it no fault of the god's, X was the one who was designated to sneak off into the night and did not much enjoy having the tables turned in that regard. Not because any concepts of shame or attachment or such things as that, but damn it, he had been perfectly comfortable. He had been warm, comfortable, and just sleepy enough to act as though he were truly happy, and then came dear Mr. Landel to muck it up as usual.

Dash it all.

Not that the morning could possibly ruin such a wonderful night. The Gambler cast a cursory glance to the lone woman staring at the doors (or perhaps it was somehow a man, you could never be sure here) when led in by McNursingson, then taking a seat at the opposite end of the cafeteria. He was in a pleasant enough mood, really. It just seemed that every instance he acted upon it brought him woe. He was hardly going to bother.

[oil_connoisseur]

How does Luxord feel about evil dictators and pancakes?

By the time Megatron had followed the woman through sterile corridors of the so-called ‘Landel’s Institute’, his processors had come online and he was utterly furious. It had taken him quite a few steps to get used to the altered weight placement from his usual form, and now he walked with his back straight and his head held high with a calm disdain. The woman had certainly noticed and frowned at him, before ordering him to stay ‘put’ after they had entered a large, echoing chamber. He was too exhausted to do anything different, staring out over the wash of humans.

Megatron had looked up at the ceiling, searching for even the most basic of security camera equipment, and, of course, if there was anything of interest it had been well hidden. If Megatron really had been placed in a simulation, the humans he was looking out at were nothing more than bits of code, shifting through his processor. If the Quintessons really had managed to transfer his processor into a human body… well

[clockmongler]

[NOT MUCH but fffff megatron. ♥]

The Nobody had taken to poking at his eggs with his fork and staring intently at his other hand, mind thinking back to the events of the night past. Or, to be more specific, he was playing a little game he liked to call "Whose Blood Is Under My Fingernails?" His nails were not even that long. How did it get under there?

Of course, then came the intrusive voice of one of Nursey's fellow McNursingson kin. It seemed even when he was not acting upon his good mood that it would be ruined. Wonderful

[oil_connoisseur]

[Luxord! ♥]

To fuel or not to refuel.

Staring down and absentmindedly drumming his fingers, Megatron couldn’t help but eye the glistening contents of his plate. He could assume his surroundings genuinely were simulated, and choose not to eat, but with the technology in consideration there was a very real chance that he could now be residing in a human body. If he did not refuel, and he was now organic, he would have no energy reserves to function on. He would be useless, and could easily be eliminated.

Well, he would somehow manage to be less of a threat than in his present state, which was decidedly minimal at best. He had an irritating realisation that Starscream, even as little more than a head, would most likely be an equal match. Organics, especially humans, seemed to be lacking in the department of even the most basic of defensive mechanisms

[tartaros_avatar]

Last night had been quite productive, by the standards he was reduced to in this place. Recluse took a tray of food and sat in a corner of the still mostly deserted dining hall, taking out his journal and jotting down some coded notes in his thin, spidery handwriting, eyes on the doors to the hall, watching any who filtered into the room. He did try to catalog who was here, after all. It wouldn't do to ever be surprised by anything in this prison.

[Who wants some premium evil overlord? Limit: any]

[haplesstracker]

Syrup! First good thing to happen to him since nightfall. Scourge took as many pancakes and pieces of fruit as he dared, and snagged nearly a cupful of syrup when the food guard wasn't looking.

Still couldn't get a fix on Kon--he really wanted to talk to him about playing nice with Blitzwing, but if he was too obvious about it Blitzwing would know something was up. Maybe he could find him at lunch, or whatever happened next shift. He'd heard something about showers...oh dear, they were going to get naked, weren't they?

Keeping a watch out for both Kon and his bosses, Scourge casually walked into the tabled area and sat down at random, barely looking at who was next to him.

[tartaros_avatar]

Recluse watched the man who approached, someone he didn't recognize. He did look quite a bit like a member of the Tsoo, but he didn't seem to have any noticeable tattoos and... pink never seemed to be one of the colors allowed within the villain group's color scheme, something he was vaguely thankful for.

"Good morning." Actually it wasn't, precisely because it was morning. His eyes were constantly causing him pain with all of this damned light, but he refused to let that show.

[haplesstracker]

"Morning," Scourge replied, not even looking at him. He was far too involved in pouring syrup over absolutely everything on his plate, including the fruit, wavy meat, and the squishy egg stuff.

Oh, this was going to be nice.

[traitors_smile]

Another night passed with very little progress. However, the announcement mentioned there would be new patients this morning, which meant that at least the day would be somewhat entertaining. He hid away his things, wondering idly if the same creature he'd seen last night would be up that same way again if they tried it. That key had to go somewhere, but if they eliminated all the obvious possibilities, what else would there be?

Gin followed his nurse when she arrived and when they reached the cafeteria, he picked up a tray and got in line, moving through relatively quickly since there were only a few people up just yet. It gave him the chance to sit where he liked, with a nice view of the door and relatively few seats behind him, in case someone decided to stab him in the back with a plastic fork of one of those annoying ball point pens.

[Reserved for Kenpachi]

[noneedforsanity]

Kenpachi did his best to shrug off the drugs that had been injected into his system, but even still the room felt a little fuzzy as he entered the cafeteria. The nurse escorted him to the cafeteria line and instructed him to play nice or he'd get a second helping of whatever they had injected him with. Whatever, it didn't matter. It just meant he'd have to figure out a way to fight one of them when they didn't have those damn needles on them.

The food looked weird, definitely different from the standard noodle meals that he usually ate, but whatever. Food was food, and at least there was enough of it to sate his appetite. He piled his plate high with the eggs and the weird brown things, then grabbed some of the meaty-smelling things for good measure. The salad went ignored.

Once through the line he glanced around at the others like him, dressed in that ridiculous garb with that obnoxious smiley face. Most of them didn't seem terribly happy here, but worse than that they all seemed so damn complacent about the situation. He

[traitors_smile]

It was hard to miss the giant of a man that lumbered his way into the cafeteria. If he couldn't sense his reiatsu, his presence alone was impossible to ignore. And just his luck, the shinigami decided to sit with him. Of all the captains in the Gotei 13, Zaraki was the one he'd least like to meet in this sort of situation. Even if it came down to a physical fight, the difference in their builds alone was more than a little intimidating.

None of that, however, showed in the slightest on the fox-like face of the former captain. He greeted the other man with a smile and a wave, much like he would any other.

"Zaraki-taichou," he nodded, not bothering to get out of his seat or show the slightest bit of formality. "Didn' expect t' see you around here. Must be somethin' of a surprise t'you too."

[noneedforsanity]

And there was that sly fox's smile. In any other circumstance, he would have drawn his zanpakuto and challenged the man to a battle to the death. He'd always been curious to see Ichimaru's bankai, and now that the shinigami had turned traitor Kenpachi had the perfect opportunity to see it.

Still, the fact that he wasn't able to beat even the random orderly in his room left him concerned. He was weakened, and it was entirely possible the same was true of Ichimaru. He was dressed in the same attire that Kenpachi had on, and his zanpakuto was nowhere in sight. Also, he couldn't sense even a drop of reiatsu coming from the other shinigami.

The lack of formality didn't bother him. The fact that a possibly excellent fight sat right in front of him that he might not even get to savor did. "Yeah," Kenpachi grunted in response. "What the hell is this place?"

Even Kenpachi knew not to take Gin's words at face value, but it was still worth asking. After all, why lie about something he'd probably find out eventually anyways?