Day 51: Lunch

[sanguinario]

Edward was glad to wake up to a period of respite. While he had been conscious during breakfast, he'd requested to remain in his room for extra "sleep", which had consisted waiting until the room was vacated to ingest the vial of Venom's blood. The vampire had lost his chance last night, but that might have been for the better; this way he wasn't

Comments

[brooklynisangry]

Well that'd been cool. It'd been a while since anyone had believed him right off the bat when he said he wasn't human. Okay, sure, probably more people had believed him than he'd make it out to be, but getting laughed at and then hitting said laughing guy over the head with a fully loaded food tray... that was a lot more memorable than "You're a Digimon? What's that?"

He was sort of hoping that being believed was gonna be a trend today, cause right up until the moment where he got pissed off, he didn't actually want to go to town on someone. Well, unless he just didn't like them anyway.

He wasn't too happy about the food at luch, though. Sure, it smelled good, but it looked suspiciously similar to that stuff they'd had at lunch the day they'd made him think he was a human. And bit his tongue. Which, you know, wouldn't have really been a problem if his teeth weren't all sharpened to points.

Ah well. He'd been thinking he was a human then, they didn't normally have sharp teeth, so now that he was back to knowing he was a Digimon he

[witchdetective]

With plans made for the night, Erika couldn't have been in a better mood. While Momo was ending up to be an oddly convenient piece on this board, she knew there was a purpose behind that; whether it was good or bad, Erika did not know. However, the girl didn't seem at all bothered by that possibility and might have even embraced it. This gameboard was a poorly set up one, but there was some hope for it yet. Unfortunately, now she had nothing to do but... wait

[brooklynisangry]

"Huh?" Beelzemon looked up, swallowing a mouthful of food. "I dunno, 's pretty good!" Tasted totally different than the food he'd had in Tokyo, too. "Still don't get why they're giving us this stuff, anyway," he gestured with his half-eaten burger, "I mean, the guy upstairs ain't the nicest human 've ever seen." Nice humans were okay. Ones like that guy deserved to get pounded flat.

"Oh, right." Introductions. That thing. "'m Beelzemon. Who're you?" Not the most graceful attempt at introductions the world had ever seen, but he tried anyway.

[witchdetective]

... Manners. Erika did her best to ignore her companion's lack of them and instead continued to cut up her burger into neat pieces. As she completed her task, she gave Beelzemon a curious look. One might have thought it was from his strange name (it did bear a resemblance to a certain cheap paperweight that she knew), but it was actually from his teeth. His teeth were quite pointy, she noticed, but it was just a passing conversation. It was a little difficult to see the actual teeth with all of that burger and such stuck in his mouth

[arc_wrench]

Thank the Maker! He'd escaped the showers without being perverted-at by any meatbags! This would hopefully become a trend today. No pervy meatbags. He liked that idea.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for food. If he were emperor of all meatbags, he would decree food to be outlawed. Then he'd watch them all die. Two of his goals would be completed in one simple edict!

But until then, his squishy body required food to survive. Therefore it was with great trepidation that he sat down, carefully examined his meat-cake-with-two-bits-of-bread, poked it with a fork, and then... took a very small bite.

[Maya!]

[selfnighted]

"Afraid it's poisoned, or just the way it tastes?" Maya plunked her plate down and then tilted her head, swishing her hair over her shoulder

[arc_wrench]

HK's head snapped up to focus on the newly arrived female meatbag, with an abruptness and snap to the motion rarely seen in meatbags. That was probably for a reason, and related to the reason why his back felt crunchy much of the time.

"Answer: If you were, meatbag, to find yourself stuck in a strange body, with fuel intake requirements that you had never been forced to even consider before, and said intake methods required physically mashing the fuel and then stuffing it down a tube you'd prefer not to have either, you would act suspicious of the dead meatbag product as well," he replied, following his usual rule that one should never use a handful of words when one could use a truckload. "Addendum: And if said fueling process carried a risk of fuel going into your air intakes," he muttered, setting down the meat-cake-etc-etc on his tray.

"Affirmative: If by 'overbearing' you mean possessing of all of the subtlety and processing power of a stunned Bantha, then yes." Except for his. She was somewhere down around the level of that

[selfnighted]

Well, that was a...vehement answer. Filled with a myriad of odd forms of speaking. Maya took a moment to interpret it all; the words were so antithesis to her own interests. 'Fuel intake requirements,' honestly. "...I take it you haven't had a good day."

Well, at least she didn't have to worry about tiptoeing on glass, the way it'd felt with Haseo and Rei. But perhaps merely a different type of tiptoeing was required here: she could guess that her interlocutor was not likely to take kindly to implications that he might truly be insane: Haseo had certainly not taken it well, though it hadn't been Maya's intentions to imply such. Still, Maya had seen very little evidence so far that this was more than a normal insane asylum, and the question of Maya's own sanity depended on who was doing the judging.

"Well," she added, putting on her polite, slightly teasing smile. "Thank you for the affirmative. But I don't think I've heard of a Bantha before. What is it?"

[anemptydecapo]

[I see what you did there.]The situation with Edward's fiance grew terse and uncomfortable, but in the least it was short-lived. As nice a girl as she seemed, he couldn't afford to grow close to either one of them if he wished for anything to function properly and though he had taken the time to scold her, it was for the betterment of everyone that she understand where they stood. Still, by the time the intercom had begun, Venom had already moved away from the girl and to the board, intent on finding word of their test's results

[sanguinario]

He looked up from his journal to examine whose shadow was now covering his journal, not exactly surprised to find his business associate creeping over his shoulder. He knew when Venom said he would find him later, he would. "I'm drawing. It involves using a pen to create something that looks like a picture." Despite knowing what Venom meant - you just had to love the way his cold anger was creeping out of his head like it was riding a tsunami - the question was enough to earn a sarcastic answer

[anemptydecapo]

Edward chose to be sarcastic about this. Of all the answers, of anything he could have said, he chose to do something very, very stupid

[sanguinario]

Usually, Edward appreciated his telepathy. It simply made life easier for him; he always knew who to trust, and could easily win a fight without even a chip in his skin. Right now, he was wishing there was some way to shut it off. He'd heard a lot of human sadness in his life, and most of it slid off of him... but sometimes it cut too close. Anger was easy to ignore, and Venom's was no different. That wasn't what bothered him so much

[tartaros_avatar]

Hamburgers and hotdogs. In modern America, there was nothing so proletariat nor soul-crushingly advantageous to only the most cold (and grease-stained) corporations. Frankly, Recluse minded neither, just as long as he didn't have to be exposed to either. A good portion of the Rogue Isles was fed on Nutri-Paste, after all, the chemical-filled wonder that came from Aeon Laboratories. What was the line Aeon used? Ah, right. "Made to the highest standards of nutrition under quality-controlled industrial conditions". Such was the wonder of results-based total deregulation.

With that in mind, being stuck with the American standard for protein and calories was relatively lucky. If Recluse had even the slightest shred of optimism about anything besides his own designs for world domination, of course.

Such was how he came to be glowering at his tray of 'food', and considering whether to raise tariffs on foreign imports of low-quality foodstuffs when he returned to the nation he ruled. Today was not exactly going entirely well.

[Free to an

[war_wounds]

There was nothing Ratchet was looking forward to less after a morning spent defending the validity of inorganic life than going through yet another organic refueling period. If this place was trying to drive him crazy, it was making a good start.

Glaring down at his usual pile of vegetation (now with the addition of a 'tofu-dog' thanks to the nurse) he heaved a sigh. Even cheap motor oil would be preferable to ingesting this nonsense three times a day. Too bad that would probably kill him. Wouldn't it? Ratchet turned to his neighbor. "Say, you wouldn't happen to know what the lethal dose of motor oil is for a human, would you?"

[tartaros_avatar]

Well. That wasn't the oddest conversation starter he'd ever been subjected to (that probably being either "We have reports that a sentient television sent an emissary to threaten Doctor Aeon" or "Spies have confirmed sightings of the 'giant amoeba' outside of Paragon City."), but it was certainly notable.

"I'd guess it would take quite a lot, the last time I tasted any was ninety years ago," Recluse answered, raising an eyebrow at his neighbor. Working at the shipyards when he had been human had meant any number of unpleasant incidents, including catching a facefull of engine oil on one occasion. "While it does taste sweet, I wouldn't recommend it for ingestion. Humans aren't really meant to ingest petroleum products." He studied the man, red eyes calculating and colder than his tone.

"Given your phrasing of the question, I am assuming you were non-human before this place. One of the robots, maybe?" There always seemed to be a few of them around, regardless of whether the useful ones were gone.

[war_wounds]

Ratchet wasn't sure what a human would consider 'quite a lot' of motor oil, but he wasn't keen on accidentally poisoning himself to find out. It had been a silly idea anyway. "I thought as much. No point ingesting something this miserable meatbucket can't process, anyway." He tore off a small piece of the tofu-dog and tried it, unable to hold back a shudder and a half-hearted gag. Something about the texture was off, and he didn't even know how to describe the flavor except that it was unpleasant.

That staring was a bit unnerving, but Ratchet did his best to ignore it. "Congratulations, professor, you guessed it." He sipped at his water to try to get the taste of tofu-dog (horrible-unknown-cylinder would be a more accurate name for it) out of his mouth. "And if you're going to make any anti-inorganic remarks, I'd appreciate it if you got it out of the way now and be done with it."

[loyal_soldier]

622 only had to enter the mess hall to instantly remember what 'hamburgr' and 'hot-dog' meant. The smell alone was enough to prove that they were incredibly bad for anyone with a digestive system, but would taste amazing. True, he didn't have the highest standards, no one who'd lived off of dried rations for weeks before could be said to even have middling standards, but he was suddenly more looking forward to eating than he'd been three seconds ago

[mistressmadgirl]

Agatha, by contrast, wasn't paying a great deal of attention to her surroundings now that she'd piled her tray with one of each new thing- she was a little suspicious of the meat supposedly made out of vegetables, but curious too, and it had apparently been requested so presumably it had something to recommend it, right?

The point was that she just wanted to eat and think, and possibly sketch some things out on her napkin. She did not want to have to pay attention to seating arrangements, so she didn't, thus missing out entirely on the familiar prisoner across from her.

[loyal_soldier]

622 had noticed the attacker from last night enter the mess hall, but then lost her in the general crowd of prisoners coming in. And since she had been brainwashed, he kept telling himself, it was alright. In all likelihood, she wouldn't ambush him ever again.

Which was why he then dropped his burger in a startled half-attempt to get to his feet when she suddenly appeared in front of him. He quelled the reaction before it could get any further, but now he had condiments on his shirt, a burger strewn half across his tray and the table, and an unpleasant kick of adrenaline that had nearly made him reach for his tray as a makeshift weapon. I really need to stop making assumptions.

[mistressmadgirl]

It was just a shame the staff were so on top of their materials, Agatha was thinking. It might or might not even be possible to smuggle a needle back to the room, she'd have to see how they had it set up before she decided; certainly nothing much bigger than that, though, so...

Wait, what was that noise?

Agatha returned to reality to find a calamitously-disassembled hamburger all over the table in front of her, and, when she looked a little higher up, an unpleasantly familiar face. "Oh God, it's you," she moaned, shrinking a little down into herself in embarrassment. She probably should have been paying attention to where she sat after all. "...should I go somewhere else? I could do that."