A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Day 47: Breakfast
Ninjas > everybody else.
thatdamnedninja wrote in damned
It had all been going so well!

Seeing Cloud and Aerith(!) again had brought a now unfamiliar lightness to her shoulders. Work would be harder from here on out, but she wasn't on her own anymore. She was getting a second chance she'd never thought was possible. And then, then they'd trekked outside, totally ready to face the fog and the unknown (privately, the ninja had been a little worried; it couldn't happen again, it just couldn't, but what if it did?)—only to wake up. In their beds. As usual. Gaaaaaawd—!

"I just want you to know," Yuffie informed her nurse, grabbing her journal from the desk on her way out, "that your hair looks spectacularly god-awful today. What did you do, stick your tongue in a socket? I'm not exactly hip on fashion, too busy badass for that fluffy stuff, but—"

Plucky looked ready to plant her face in her hands. Or to plant her hands somewhere else. To her credit, and much to Yuffie's eternal disappointment, she did—tried to do—neither. "One of those days, is it?" the nurse sighed, disapproval incarnate. "Well. You're just going to have to behave; the new batches of patients are due today. We don't want to make a bad impression."

"I am feeling so completely convinced of my wrongdoing," Yuffie confided. They stepped into the cafeteria, practically empty as of yet. The chocolate cake last night had worked a treat, whetting her appetite. Honestly, she was getting sick of pecking at scraps like a runt Chocobo in the snow plains—but not literally, of course. Ew. She got more than enough of that on those damn buses once a week. Now that AVALANCHE really was dropping onto her lap—and remind her to get the hell out of dodge if Barret ever took his turn—she couldn't afford not to keep her strength up. For one, she'd be a liability. For two, she'd get her spine chewed out.

"Fruit," said Plucky, hovering as her charge picked out her choices for the day. Rolling her eyes, Yuffie grabbed an apple, slinging it onto the tray alongside an 'English' sandwich. "That'll do. I'll leave you to your breakfast, now." Somehow, that sounded about as comforting as 'My name is Don Corneo and I am raiding through your panty draw', and Yuffie was stopping that thought right there. Oh, god. Eurk. Bad, bad, bad! Bad, brain. Bad. That—yeah, no. Just, no. 'Sides, the guy was as dead as a doornail, splatted across Da Chao's feet. Dirtying them, really, but somehow Yuffie couldn't bring herself to be sorry about that.

(And it wasn't like the creep'd ever end up here, right? Right!)

She took to a seat, dropping her tray and her journal both onto the table. The book fell pages-down; Yuffie flipped it over, thumbing through to the middle as she worked through her apple. An almost finished map of Gaia stared back at her, neat as she could ever manage. Dots for major locations, squiggles for mountains. Stars for the materia caves, Chocobos for the tracks. All labelled in Wutaian. It was just a little piece of the home she absolutely had to get back to, 'cuz Leviathan knew what kind of trouble they'd be up to their necks in without her.

[For Donna]

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Another evening spent, and Edgar was no closer to solving the mysteries of this place, coming up with a plan for escape, or having a new weapon at his disposal. Time moved so strangely in the walls of the prison- it seemed the days went so slowly, but the nights moved much more swiftly, giving only a hint of exploration before the sun stole it away.

Well, at least the seemingly brief evening hadn't been a total loss: he did spend it with a lovely woman. Chipper, too. Her attitude had been a nice breath of fresh air, and she was someone he'd definitely enjoy seeing again.

Until then, the day was ready for him, as was the nursemaid. She waited impatiently as he attempted to sort out his hair and drab clothing, then led him to the mess hall for the first meal of the day. After a quick stop at the board in the Sun Room, he took his tray and his food and an empty seat near the doorway where he could watch the people entering and leaving.


Beatrice still wasn't terribly amused, but venting her suspicions that one of those other meddling witches was behind all of this certainly helped. She was much calmer and more composed as she entered the cafeteria.

So, it was Western-style food here? She found the smell of whatever those sandwiches were a bit greasy for her stomach, but did take pancakes and fruit before scanning for familiar faces. Her eyes froze for a moment on a girl that looked too much like that other meddling witch, but...no. The eyes were all wrong.

Instead, she decided to take a seat across from a rather pleasant-looking young gentleman, half-smiling as she bowed. "Is this seat taken?"

Well, this place was just full of surprises, wasn't it? Just as the young king thought the previous evening with Harley had been a highlight of his stay, another golden-haired beauty appeared before him. Despite it being early, he was ready to count any day in which beautiful women came crawling from the woodwork as successful.

"It is now," he said with a smirk and a polite wave of his hand, gesturing for her to take a seat. "Have you been here long, Miss? Surely I'd have noticed someone as stunning as yourself sooner."

Ah, one of those types? Well, Beatrice definitely could have done much, much worse. "No, actually," she said, carefully taking her seat. She might have actually flopped into it a bit normally, but she needed to keep a modicum of grace about her for now. She wasn't among friends.

"I just woke here this morning, rather unexpectedly," she said. "If I hadn't just been told differently, I'd have thought it was someone I know playing a rather cruel joke. But it seems that this isn't one." The crueler joke was really the lack of tea, she thought.

"My apologies - my name is Beatrice. Though the nurses seem to think it's Victoria." She wasn't about to mention that last name. The mere thought made her feel slightly queasy.

"I'm Edgar," he replied coolly. "The nursemaid is determined to convince me otherwise, but I'll forgive her for now."

It seemed she was even newer than he was- weren't there already enough people here? Or perhaps as some were discarded, others were brought to fill in the gaps every few days or so. He wondered if she came alone from her world, or if she had friends from other times as he did.

Well, those notions could wait for another time. He leaned on the table, entwining his fingers before him as he studied her a moment. "How much have you been told?"

"Is that a common thing, then? Being told that you're someone completely different?" The witch raised an eyebrow, more out of interest than out of sheer shock - no matter what she felt on the inside. "They must choose the names just to anger us. To think they would choose that as a last name..."

Beatrice shook her head, clearly disapproving. "I'm afraid I haven't been told much. I'm just a bit glad that I'm not where I had feared we might be," she said, with a light laugh. "I'd hate to be somewhere so unpleasant as I thought."

"I agree," Edgar said with a brief smile. "Though freedom is fleeting here, I suppose it could be worse. It could be where I thought I might be, or where I was before." At least the land was still beautiful here- the grass was green, the sky blue, and Kefka's tower wasn't looming in the distance, a constant reminder for the frightened remnants of a ruined world. "Still, I would trade it in a heartbeat to return home. There's still so much that has to be done there."

He lowered his hands from his face, which bore a more serious look. "This might sound a little insane, but I'll explain it as best I can. As I've heard, every prisoner here was taken from his or her 'world.' It seems some people came from the same world, but not necessarily the same time period in that world's history. For example, there's a woman here who is a friend of mine back home, but she remembers being brought here before a certain event. I was brought here after the event, but I never noticed she was taken- for me, it's as if she never left."

He pushed a stray hair from his eyes, stealing a glance around the room for Celes. "It's a conundrum, but if the man running this place can perform such feats, he must have immense powers. There are magicians where I come from, but I'm not sure even the most god-like of those could manage what this Landel has done, even if he had the sanity for it."

Returning home...the thought of it made a bittersweet look come over Beatrice's face. Now that she thought about it, there really wasn't much left for her on that island - but the one thing that was left was more important to her than she would ever let on. Not that she would openly say that to anyone, but... "I can certainly understand the sentiment. It's rather worrisome to still have unfinished business to take care of, and to be elsewhere."

She tilted her head to one side, thinking over what Edgar was saying about multiple worlds - well, she wouldn't call them that herself, but the concept was certainly familiar. "No, it actually doesn't sound insane. The concept of multiple worlds is one I'm familiar with." She would explain if asked, but for now, that was her own problem.

That last part, though... "I had suspected a witch that I know might have been responsible at first. It turns out, of course, that it isn't the case. What worries me a bit more, though, is that my own magic power is sealed off. It's as if I was soaking in a sea of magic-resistance toxin."

"I've heard of others like that," Edgar said with a nod. "I used to be able to do a bit myself, but I've not put forth any conscious effort since I arrived. I get the feeling I couldn't perform any if I wanted to." He shrugged a bit- it wasn't a huge loss for someone who favored machinery over magic anyway. He suspected a magic-user like Celes or Terra would be suffering, though. At least Celes was good with a sword.

"Another bit of warning," he said a bit quieter, watching the nurses across the room. "When night falls, this place changes somehow. I've yet to see many myself, but there are reports that monsters are common to roam the halls at night. Do be careful- I'd hate to hear that something nasty befell you."

Beatrice was quiet for just a few minutes. If it was true, if her magic was sealed, then that would prove problematic. She idly gazed around the room, trying to gauge what the population of this place was. The question of how many magic users were there, and how many had powers sealed, versus the number of people who couldn't use magic, or didn't believe in it, was weighing heavily on her mind. Was there any way to know?

I wouldn't get an honest answer if I asked over that board. There has to be some way to gauge the differences, but...how?

"I see," she finally said, looking down into her juice glass as if the orange juice was to blame for all of it.

That last part...now that was interesting. She raised an eyebrow, leaning in a bit and lowering her own voice. "When you say changes...what does that mean? Does it physically change, or...?"

Edgar crossed his arms on the table, leaning forward as well to keep the conversation in close quarters. Being marginally closer to the lovely lady before him was a bonus.

"I'd wager in several ways," he answered, leaning backward briefly and flashing a smile at a nurse who passed them. He waited for her to get from earshot before leaning inward again and continuing.

"Though this place is under the guise of safety and security during the day, it's different during the midnight hours. I've seen specters lingering in the corridors, and there's rumor of worse. The lights are out, the halls deceiving and confusing, and the darkness is strangely suffocating. It's as if they're offering a chance at freedom, if you can find your way out."

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