As friendly as Leela had been, Rita was glad to be escorted away from her, for fear that some of that crazy might have been contagious. Abducted by aliens. Yeah, right
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Nothing. There was nothing she could use here, unless she felt like trying her luck with a fork that broke if you bent it the wrong way (Morgan tested several until Susie Pudgebucket picked them up and moved them down the table), or else a depressingly non-painful-looking water pitcher. Plus, the effects of whatever they'd given her still hadn't completely worn off. At least prepared food meant there had to be some knives around somewhere, but it looked like another attempt at a fight was gonna have to wait
( ... )
As with the others who walked through the door, Rita gave the black-haired woman who entered a passing glance, then looked back to her food. She was a bit surprised when the stranger wound up sitting nearby, though it sounded like the nurse was responsible for that. 'Miss Faye,' was it? It wouldn't be too surprising if that name turned out to be wrong, though. The staff here didn't seem to get anything right.
"Nothing, as far as I know," Rita replied with a bitter frown. "What kind of hospital is this supposed to be, anyway? I haven't exactly been to a lot of hospitals before, but I'm pretty sure most of them don't have rooms for games or crafts."
Perhaps more perplexing was the fact that none of the other patients appeared to be sick or injured. What did they think they were treating here? Several possibilities surfaced in Rita's mind, but with so little information, she couldn't quite jump to any conclusions yet.
Blecch, this tuna was the least fresh she'd had in--ever, actually. Morgan couldn't say she was impressed by this place's food. Not that she needed another reason to want out of here.
She shrugged. "A good one, I guess. The last thing I remember was a big hole in my stomach, and it's completely gone now. But since they're still refusing to let me go, I don't think I'm gonna feel bad about skipping out on my bill." Which she would've paid otherwise, if she'd thought for a minute this outfit was legit. Morgan wasn't a pirate, after all.
But she still couldn't figure out what this girl would be doing here. "So you haven't gotten on anyone's bad side lately? The Marquis DeSinge? LeChuck?" she asked. She and Elaine were definitely on both their lists.
Not only did the nurse-woman refuse to respond to any attempts at friendly conversation, she persisted in using that weirdly wrong name every time she addressed Minako. As if the entire situation wasn't strange enough, being called "Annabel" made her distinctly uncomfortable. Who exactly was this Annabel person who was supposed to be sick, and why did this supposed hospital seem more like a...a kindergarten with dormitories? And was she really expected to make something out of the construction paper and glitter that the nurse had set on the table in front of her
( ... )
As he passed through the Sun Room - which, to be honest, was not all that sunny - it hit Matt that he hadn't had a single cigarette since waking up in that sanitized room. The fact that this didn't wholly agree with the chainsmoker was becoming more and more obvious as he made it through the day; he was tired already, lethargic, and his right pinky had developed a weird tic. There was also a thin sheen of sweat along his forehead, matting his bangs to his skin a little. All in all, he felt like total and complete shit, and he honestly wasn't sure how much longer he could go until he finally collapsed from nicotine deprivation.
...Okay, collapse was probably too strong a term, but who could blame him for being a bit overdramatic? This was pretty much the worst day of his life- er, deathSighing as he shrugged the nurse away, Matt decided that maybe it was time to move on from that subject, lest he get all doubtful and mopey again
( ... )
There were other people wandering into the room, people dressed in the same clothing that Minako had found herself wearing earlier. A uniform of some kind, maybe? But why would they need a uniform? She was starting to consider another attempt at getting the nurse to talk (because the last one had gone so well) when one of the newcomers came and took a seat at her table.
"Hi," she said in return, glancing up from the food she had yet to touch...well, eat, given that she'd sort of mauled the sandwich a little before the nurse made her stop earlier. A little older than she was, glasses, kind of cute, and apparently ordinary. Probably. At least, he didn't feel like one of the enemy did, which was a good enough beginning for her.
Minako flashed him a bright grin, hoping that he would be inclined to talk unlike the Starch Brigade over there. "Have you been here long?"
"Nah," he answered. "Seems like everyone here right now arrived today."
Blinking, Matt offered a small smile back; that bright grin both intimidated and intrigued him. Either she hadn't started to figure out that there was something wrong with the facility they were currently being navigated through - which he obviously didn't approve, but seemed to continue anyway - or she was just being very upbeat about the entire thing. Both were entirely plausible.
The nurse brought over a sandwich of some kind, which he stared down at for a moment before deciding that he was going to just ignore it; his stomach was starting to clench a little, which he chalked up to the withdrawal that was hitting him hard and with no mercy.
Matt looked up at the girl. "This is gonna sound weird - but what year is it?" Please don't let me fall into another conversation with a chick who thinks she's from the future, he thought.
Last shift had flown by as if it had never happened. The chief had spent the entire time trying to get his nurse to tell him the location of the swimming pool but the woman had rebuffed his every inquiry. It was quite vexing. How could he properly socialize if he wasn't able to invite his new friends to go swimming at the pool
( ... )
Another fairly boring room. This one had lunch, however, so while he wasn't particularly hungry, he paused long enough to grab a salad and a glass of water. He had this sneaking suspicion one of the nurses might object to him skipping the meal entirely. He would have vastly preferred being allowed to go take a nap, but he didn't think they were going to be too forgiving of his night-owl lifestyle, either.
Arts and crafts was not really his thing, so Gren avoided the tables with supplies on them, looking around for somewhere he could sit. He spotted an older looking gentleman and decided it might be nice to talk to someone who didn't look like they were still in high-school for a change. He looked friendly enough, anyway. And if the guy didn't want to be social, well. He could just sit there in silence and eat his lunch just as easily.
"Hey," he said, smiling as he approached. "Mind if I sit here?"
Hmm, approached by another patient during a meal, a young man with a smile and good manners. Gant wondered if this was normal behavior in a mental institution. But his breakfast with Tris had become strained. Maybe this boy would be a little more knowledgeable about the institution, or possibly just a little less secretive.
"Sure, lad. Have a seat!" boomed the Chief of Police, gesturing to the other chair at the table. It wouldn't hurt to make some friends while he was here. Maybe he'd find someone he could use one day, once he got out of here. If he still wasn't under arrest for murder, that is.
Gant leveled his stare on the younger man. It was a little surprising, meeting someone just as tall, or maybe taller, than Gant himself. The younger man also kept his hair much too long. There was something else that even gave Gant pause, but he couldn't place it.
The chief blinked once, then twice, still staring.
Gren might have looked a little surprised at being called 'lad,' but he pulled out the chair and took a seat. The guy seemed amiable, if a bit... loud. Well, Gren had dealt with stranger people before.
"I kind of feel like I'm back in grade school," he joked. The juice boxes left out for them had seemed especially juvenile, to him. "I wonder what a guy has to do to get a cup of coffee around this place. He poked at his salad with his fork, but not actually moving to eat it.
"I'm Gren, by the way." He wondered if he was talking too much. Probably. But silence was sort of awkward, and he tended to fill it with pointless chatter out of habit.
Shaken still by her conversation with Kiba Inuzuka, Natalia could not claim to be entirely unwilling when the nurses had urged everyone up and into another room. Once again, the passage between rooms went by largely unnoticed by the princess, though her distraction this time was the puzzle of the maps. With a brief pause to consider the gray sky and the sound of the rain
( ... )
Someone was having a bad day. Or several someones, Luke noticed. As much as he was trying to see this place under the veil of being interesting, the various expressions on the faces that greeted him in this new room didn't seem particularly welcoming. It was a bit of a shame. This place captured them, and already, they were letting themselves bear the weight of their imprisonment. Someone couldn't be as clever as they might be otherwise because of this weight, because of how heavily they carried it. For him, he wanted to carry on as chipper as possible. Be matter of fact. Get those wide-eyed stares just to see how they might handle things. It could continue to be amusing, at any rate
( ... )
Troubled thought had drifted into a period of vacancy, where the heaviness had taken her to a place of robotic jaw workings and an unseeing gaze at a spot beside a juice box. As such, the young man sitting across from her gave her quite the start. Luckily, Natalia had already swallowed. She may have heard what he asked, but whether she processed it was another question entirely
( ... )
It was hard to focus on her words alone, each little shift and movement catching his attention and making it hard for him to focus. Luke caught the awkwardness with everything, and he realized that her way of speaking was unusual enough. He wouldn't be surprised if there was someone out of time, or if this place was somehow pulling things together in a different way altogether. What he did know was that this girl was confused, and her way of carrying herself meant that she probably needed a helping hand
( ... )
Being mistaken for a crazy person really put a damper on a girl's day, and Leela was looking forward to talking to Elaine, who seemed to have had at least one experience as weird as some of Leela's own. She told herself not to mention aliens, spaceships, or anything else that might give her away as being from any time other than the twenty-first century. She'd been to the nineteen-forties, she could do this. Maybe she'd throw in something about cooking pot roasts.
And hey, if she really was in the past, Fry hadn't set the bar too high. As long as Leela didn't end up as her own descendant, she'd come out ahead of him.
"Can't I get a Femislim injection?" she asked her nurse, after listening to the announcement, which, while not a lot like the Orphanarium (they were lucky if the owl traps went off, there), put her in mind of the place. A diet of institutional food for very long was only going to give Amy plenty of ammunition when Leela got home
( ... )
Somewhere in between leaving the Game Room and arriving at the Arts & Crafts Room, Elaine had found time to go back and forth to the bulletin board in the big, open lounge-type area a couple of times. Honestly, she didn't even remember exactly how or when, but for whatever reason, she didn't feel inclined to think too hard on the matter. What mattered was that communication via that method seemed to work, and that it had snagged her a meeting with someone who could hopefully provide another angle on their situation. She didn't know exactly what Leela meant by "non-elective cosmetic surgery," but whatever it was, she had a feeling it was tied directly to arriving in the Institute
( ... )
"Turanga Leela, captain of the ship... Planet Express ship." She gave her own title instinctively, complete with snapping a salute. Elaine was as tall as advertised, and Leela got the feeling she didn't suffer jerkwads gladly either. "Nice to meet you."
Leela had become pretty certain that no one here really deserved to be locked up. The fact that these spleazeballs (now that she'd thought of the alien zoo possibility, she couldn't help but picture stereotypical grey aliens, probably watching through two-way mirrors) had kidnapped a politician was worrying. Was someone under the mistaken impression that she had friends who had money, and competence? Or was it as random as it seemed? On the one hand, if someone that important had been abducted, the regular joes and janes here were probably boned. On the other, it meant whoever was behind this was really going to get a kick in the face when everything got sorted out. But on the third hand, sorting it out wasn't happening nearly fast enough for Leela's taste. "Governor of what?"
[Sorry for the icon-switching. I'm indecisive. T_T]selfrescuerApril 29 2010, 03:40:04 UTC
Elaine raised an interested eyebrow as she returned the salute. "Pleasure to meet you as well, Captain." So Leela was the captain of a ship, was she? Did that mean she was a pirate? There were barely any female pirates sailing the seven seas, but they were out there. Granted, she had never heard of a Captain Leela in particular, but it was possible that she had made the scene sometime during the seven-year time gap (Elaine forced herself not to show her frustration at that). Who knew? Maybe in that seven years, purple hair had become a fad as well, along with cosmic-sounding names for vessels.
Either way, Leela was probably not from around the Tri-Island area; otherwise, the name "Marley" would have gotten a reaction of some sort. She took that into account when answering the woman's question. "Governor of the Tri-Island Area. It's quite deep in the Caribbean, a little ways away from the Gulf of Melange. Have you ever sailed near the area?" she asked, laying out her craft materials on the table in front of her.
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"Nothing, as far as I know," Rita replied with a bitter frown. "What kind of hospital is this supposed to be, anyway? I haven't exactly been to a lot of hospitals before, but I'm pretty sure most of them don't have rooms for games or crafts."
Perhaps more perplexing was the fact that none of the other patients appeared to be sick or injured. What did they think they were treating here? Several possibilities surfaced in Rita's mind, but with so little information, she couldn't quite jump to any conclusions yet.
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She shrugged. "A good one, I guess. The last thing I remember was a big hole in my stomach, and it's completely gone now. But since they're still refusing to let me go, I don't think I'm gonna feel bad about skipping out on my bill." Which she would've paid otherwise, if she'd thought for a minute this outfit was legit. Morgan wasn't a pirate, after all.
But she still couldn't figure out what this girl would be doing here. "So you haven't gotten on anyone's bad side lately? The Marquis DeSinge? LeChuck?" she asked. She and Elaine were definitely on both their lists.
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...Okay, collapse was probably too strong a term, but who could blame him for being a bit overdramatic? This was pretty much the worst day of his life- er, deathSighing as he shrugged the nurse away, Matt decided that maybe it was time to move on from that subject, lest he get all doubtful and mopey again ( ... )
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"Hi," she said in return, glancing up from the food she had yet to touch...well, eat, given that she'd sort of mauled the sandwich a little before the nurse made her stop earlier. A little older than she was, glasses, kind of cute, and apparently ordinary. Probably. At least, he didn't feel like one of the enemy did, which was a good enough beginning for her.
Minako flashed him a bright grin, hoping that he would be inclined to talk unlike the Starch Brigade over there. "Have you been here long?"
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Blinking, Matt offered a small smile back; that bright grin both intimidated and intrigued him. Either she hadn't started to figure out that there was something wrong with the facility they were currently being navigated through - which he obviously didn't approve, but seemed to continue anyway - or she was just being very upbeat about the entire thing. Both were entirely plausible.
The nurse brought over a sandwich of some kind, which he stared down at for a moment before deciding that he was going to just ignore it; his stomach was starting to clench a little, which he chalked up to the withdrawal that was hitting him hard and with no mercy.
Matt looked up at the girl. "This is gonna sound weird - but what year is it?" Please don't let me fall into another conversation with a chick who thinks she's from the future, he thought.
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Arts and crafts was not really his thing, so Gren avoided the tables with supplies on them, looking around for somewhere he could sit. He spotted an older looking gentleman and decided it might be nice to talk to someone who didn't look like they were still in high-school for a change. He looked friendly enough, anyway. And if the guy didn't want to be social, well. He could just sit there in silence and eat his lunch just as easily.
"Hey," he said, smiling as he approached. "Mind if I sit here?"
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"Sure, lad. Have a seat!" boomed the Chief of Police, gesturing to the other chair at the table. It wouldn't hurt to make some friends while he was here. Maybe he'd find someone he could use one day, once he got out of here. If he still wasn't under arrest for murder, that is.
Gant leveled his stare on the younger man. It was a little surprising, meeting someone just as tall, or maybe taller, than Gant himself. The younger man also kept his hair much too long. There was something else that even gave Gant pause, but he couldn't place it.
The chief blinked once, then twice, still staring.
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"I kind of feel like I'm back in grade school," he joked. The juice boxes left out for them had seemed especially juvenile, to him. "I wonder what a guy has to do to get a cup of coffee around this place. He poked at his salad with his fork, but not actually moving to eat it.
"I'm Gren, by the way." He wondered if he was talking too much. Probably. But silence was sort of awkward, and he tended to fill it with pointless chatter out of habit.
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And hey, if she really was in the past, Fry hadn't set the bar too high. As long as Leela didn't end up as her own descendant, she'd come out ahead of him.
"Can't I get a Femislim injection?" she asked her nurse, after listening to the announcement, which, while not a lot like the Orphanarium (they were lucky if the owl traps went off, there), put her in mind of the place. A diet of institutional food for very long was only going to give Amy plenty of ammunition when Leela got home ( ... )
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Leela had become pretty certain that no one here really deserved to be locked up. The fact that these spleazeballs (now that she'd thought of the alien zoo possibility, she couldn't help but picture stereotypical grey aliens, probably watching through two-way mirrors) had kidnapped a politician was worrying. Was someone under the mistaken impression that she had friends who had money, and competence? Or was it as random as it seemed? On the one hand, if someone that important had been abducted, the regular joes and janes here were probably boned. On the other, it meant whoever was behind this was really going to get a kick in the face when everything got sorted out. But on the third hand, sorting it out wasn't happening nearly fast enough for Leela's taste. "Governor of what?"
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Either way, Leela was probably not from around the Tri-Island area; otherwise, the name "Marley" would have gotten a reaction of some sort. She took that into account when answering the woman's question. "Governor of the Tri-Island Area. It's quite deep in the Caribbean, a little ways away from the Gulf of Melange. Have you ever sailed near the area?" she asked, laying out her craft materials on the table in front of her.
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