Day 52: Lunch

[purpletaint]

[from here]It was a race. A fight against patience and a Song's call. Still, the sedation's dredges churned through him. Two close at hand had a potent effect--much like the night that they were left in that town, and the morning after. Rubedo had came then. Came for them like something out of place, and wasn't that so ironic afterwards--when

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[thatdamnedninja]

Time to draw, Yuffie thought.

Time to draw a great big skeletal horse, a brute, and a pack of the fugliest dogs this side of ever.

Putting pencil to paper (plain; she'd convinced her nurse that, no, really, letting her go back to her room to rummage was a great idea! She'd even walk, not cartwheel, okay? Okay!), Yuffie started sketching. And sketching. And sketching. Man, how boring… She'd rather be back in the sun room, playing 'anything you can do I can do better' with Kaito.

… No!

She was behind already; this was supposed to be done for tonight. And she still had some translation work to do, too. Her notebook sat open in front of her, opened to a double-page spread of Wutaian writing (and totally unrelated doodles)-she was halfway through it already, and she could only hope that the rest wouldn't take too long. She'd been the one to write it in the first place, after all

[theroadsofar]

"Man, you could totally sell that."

Dean rounded the table from where he'd come up behind Yuffie and while he wasn't exactly Michelangelo himself, he could at least tell the difference between a crappy stick figure and a decent drawing. That right there was a pretty decent sketch of some kind of freaky looking horse thing, and it wasn't one of those freaky looks like she just couldn't draw. Whatever she was drawing, the thing was an ugly mother in the first place. He would've said it was a kelpie, except kelpies didn't have their own riders like that - would've been hard to lure in another dumb schmuck for a ride if that seat was already taken, for starters, and two, somehow he doubted have some ugly sonuvabitch there was going to make someone suddenly want to jump on

[thatdamnedninja]

Yuffie had known that somebody was approaching, but she'd been too absorbed by her work to realize, or care, who it was - until they spoke.

It was Dean, looking the healthiest and most whole she'd ever seen him. Just a couple of bruises here and there, a quick, casual glance told her; and he wasn't moving stiffly enough to suggest other, less obvious injuries. Either he'd been playing it safe these past few nights, or he'd gotten lucky.

"Hi," she said. Then, with the beginning of a gleaming grin, added, "Sure could. Bet some sucker'd actually pay for it, too."

She tapped her pencil against the sketch. There were still bits and pieces missing; the rot on the two huge hounds, and a miscellaneous detail or two on the seven-foot-tall monster man. He hadn't been armed, she remembered, 'cept for the horn… After double-checking that against her notes, she drew it in.

"Yeah, I wish it'd been my imagination. First night out, over the walls, super foggy - bam." Her grin faded into exasperation. "These guys came chargin' out of the woods.

[theroadsofar]

Sounded like a bitch and a half right there.

So basically provided they could get over the walls and get a decent ride (decent as in anything that'd run in the first place), there was a good chance there was those things out there. Usually he'd say "screw it" and put the pedal to the metal but he'd learned the hard way that a lot of the supernatural crap out there could and would run down a car.

Chewing absently on a bite of his taco, Dean tilted his head so he could get a better look at Yuffie's drawing. At least it was one of those monsters that was nice enough to give you some kind of warning before they tried their damnedest to maul you or try to take a bit outta you or...whatever they felt like doing. Honestly, it hadn't exactly been his job to get into their shoes aside from figuring out where these things were likely to be holed up and how to hunt 'em down. Getting all philospher about it wasn't exactly his thing

[girlsandgadgets]

Though the nurse cut Edgar's conversation short, he was less irritated about the interruption than he normally would have been: if he was getting to the cafeteria before most of the other prisoners, he had a better chance at spotting Locke as he entered the room. It was unfortunate that the thief was so skilled in his craft- it made finding him difficult, and there was a lot they needed to discuss. He'd not replied to the note on the bulletin board, either

[herr_inspektor]

Lunge had come to that morning in a sulphurous breath of nausea, head clouded with the pain he fuzzily located to his arm- the hand he'd been holding his knife in. For a moment the hazy smell of burning and smoke lingered in the back of his throat but the louder part of his mind insisted it was psychosomatic, who knew how much time had passed since that near miss, it was completely illogical to... it hadn't mattered, and he had tried to forget about it. Instead, he'd focused on taking stock: his chest ached and he'd been bandaged all along his right arm to his hand, partly for the ripped skin and partly for the the tender swelling around his wrist that he assumed signified a sprain. The knife was now in his desk draw, coated in thick, black blood. There had been a pole- no, a snooker cue, he had noticed that by the light of the day- at the end of his bed, which he'd placed in his cupboard for safekeeping until Venom came to retrieve it. And, most importantly, his memory was in perfect condition.

Lydia Thayer should be considered

[quarter_english]

Getting from the library to the cafeteria was much like getting from his room to the library had been: a slow journey assisted by the nurse. L thought that his motor control was improving. His feet still shuffled, but he could move faster. He had been able to attend to messages on the bulletin board to his satisfaction, although the messages themselves had been indiscreet enough to qualify as problematic. His back hurt, but the pain had receded. He had checked the book out of the library on the grounds that pretending to read it might help him look busy, and he was able to carry it with no trouble.

This is only one day, he thought. Only one setback. I'm still alive, still whole... or I will be again soon. Have to be. Still, they didn't have the right to- Today, it was more difficult to force his anger down. He could recognize the irony without appreciating it: the one time he was furious enough to consider acting on his emotions, it was a physical impossibility for him to do so

[herr_inspektor]

As predicted, L appeared quietly and without fanfare- only then Lunge was struck into silence for a second because somehow he hadn't expected the man to look quite so ill. He was used to L looking pale and tired, that seemed to be a given no matter what had happened the night before, but there was something almost corpse-like about the way he looked now, as though there wasn't quite enough blood left to pass under that papery skin. Even the way he moved was startling- slow and considered had become slow and painful. The bandage was a surprise, too. Perhaps it was a preconditioned response, with the illogical but all-too human expectation that the same thing that had happened to him would likely happen to someone else.

And now he needed to tread carefully, because he was already starting to appeal to emotion: bloodless, corpse-like, language far too emotive for his liking, and then there was the personalisation, too. It looked like he really had managed to shake himself up

[quarter_english]

L caught the peculiar look Lunge gave him. It rankled: he knew how he must appear, that his current weakness was written all over him. Lunge would be phrasing questions in his mind. They both knew that it was experimentation; they both knew how L had been taken from his room and sedated; it was the same story for everyone. The questions would be more intimate than that

[bitpartgod]

Now that he was sure Sechs was still definitely in one piece (if still as reckless as ever), Kibitoshin could actually stomach something without feeling as though he'd been put through a spin cycle in a dryer. Yes, he hadn't worried at breakfast, but he certainly hadn't managed to eat anything- that would have been too much to ask, really. Now that just about everyone was likely to be more or less okay, it was probably fairly important that he took the opportunity to stock up again after last night's amble; it hadn't exactly been strenuous, but even so they'd gone unusually far, considering his usual experiences with the nightshift. Most of the time he was lucky to make it out of his room

[poorexample]

[Bit part god, meet bit part angel?]One thing this place had made Castiel realize was that humans certainly needed to eat a lot. It wasn't something he'd considered much before, mainly because the Winchesters had had strange eating habits, only grabbing food when they had the chance. It was true that Dean had a tendency to snack almost constantly throughout the day if he was given the opportunity to do so, but Castiel had assumed that was just Dean being Dean. He was a rather unique human, after all

[bitpartgod]

[fff genius ♥]

It wasn't long before Kibitoshin spotted yet another a nurse flapping around one of the patients nearby, and immediately he felt a stab of pity. He'd never really had to deal with being bothered by his nurse- he'd always just done as they'd told without any bother (and why not? They seemed nice enough mostly, so maybe they'd just been caught up in this accidentally and weren't really flesh-rending monsters)- so he had to sympathise with those who seemed less willing to co-operate, it really wasn't their fault. How many people had he met who just didn't like being around other people a lot? He couldn't imagine how someone as private as Vegeta or Piccolo would have coped, given how little either of them liked being pushed around. They'd probably have spent all of their time sedated- Piccolo less so, what with how smart the guy was, but that didn't mean he'd be happy about it. Hmm. Maybe it was a good thing Goku was the one who was here, even if he didn't seem to recognise him; at least he wouldn't be grumpy with him all

[poorexample]

Castiel should have known that the nurses wouldn't have referred to any patient by their real name, but he couldn't shake his curiosity about why they had chosen to call this particular patient Immanuel. He had clearly been termed Michael for a reason (he didn't see how that could be a coincidence; whoever had brought him here knew exactly who he was and how to upset him), so why had this child been labeled as Immanuel?

Kibitoshin was not a name that he recognized, but that did not necessarily mean that there was no significance to it. Castiel's brow furrowed as he ran through his memory banks once, twice, three times -- but no.

"Does the name Immanuel mean anything to you?" Perhaps it had simply been chance, but Castiel wasn't going to assume that until he'd asked his fair share of questions. Part of him realized that Dean would have been kicking him under the table if he'd been here for this conversation, but he was willing to defy social rules if it meant getting the information that he needed

[gargantuanlaugh]

Being one of the older patients in the institute never meant for a lack of appetite for Gant! Well, yesterday hadn't been so good for him, but today he was making up in spades! And good, old-fashioned Tex-Mex was the way to do it!

Or so he would have thought. Truth of the matter was, it just wasn't the same as home. Even with the nice variety of fillings, tacos and burritos weren't real food unless prepared like his favorite restaurant back home. How he missed L.A. and the authenticity of its Tex-Mex! Well, he'd just deal with it for now. He could at least pretend it wasn't all that bad. He needed to eat, anyway, and maybe he could survive it working on pure hunger.

Grabbing a few tacos and a burrito, the man sat at one of the tables and started in on his lunch. Really, it wasn't that bad. But it made him wonder just exactly where they were if the Tex-Mex wasn't spectacular. Not in Texas. And not in California.

[For the daughter of his old friend~]

[iwhipthefool]

Augh, look at this plebeian fare. Mexican food was not high on Franziska's list of things she preferred to eat. She preferred much more refined foods, something from her native country or the neighboring France. Still, this was all she was being offered so she took the horchata, a single burrito, and a salad and headed off to the tables.

There wasn't much space to be honest since she was a bit late to the cafeteria. She could see others she recognized sitting about, but had no inclination to sit with them. At least she could see that Scruffy was still around and gathering small children like usual. He and Phoenix Wright both had that peculiar skill, or perhaps it was something Scruffy had picked up from Wright. Unfortunate.

Moving through the cafeteria, Franziska still couldn't find a seat. After a few moments, she paused by a table and stood with one hand on her hip, the other balancing her tray on its palm. She scanned the cafeteria, but just couldn't find anywhere open with anyone she knew well enough to sit beside.

[

[gargantuanlaugh]

Gant had finished up a taco and started in on the second when a familiar presence made him look up. He didn't recognize many of the faces around him, and the ones he did were occupied with their own food and conversation. However, there was one patient that stood out, a young woman a table or so down the way. Maybe it was her posture that threw him, or something in her face... Either way, she piqued his interest.

After wiping his hands on a napkin (had to look presentable for the young lady, after all) Gant raised one of his large hands and waved it to get her attention. Grinning broadly, he boomed, "Yoohoo! Young miss! Would you mind sparing a minute for this old man?"

He was just trying to be open and friendly, and all he wanted was to ask her some questions. If he didn't relieve whatever it was that bugged him about her he'd be thinking on it all night!

[iwhipthefool]

Why did the people here enjoy stuffing their faces so much? It seemed they all packed into this room the minute the announcements were made. Not that they really had a choice since the nurses liked to herd them around like cat--

...

No. That was a completely illogical train of thought. Martin Landel couldn't possibly be fattening them up to feed to his monstrous pets at night. That would just be stupid. Despite her conviction, Franziska found her appetite waning ever so slightly.

Lost in such thoughts, she almost missed it when someone suddenly called out across the tables. Surely, she thought, that loud voice wasn't talking to her. No one in their right mind would call to a von Karma in such a manner. Least of all the von Karma heir