A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Day 50: Cafeteria (Brunch)
wears the pants in this relationship
selfrescuer wrote in damned
Somehow, after their talk in the chapel, Elaine felt simultaneously more accepting of and more irritated by her future husband. On the one hand, seven years had clearly been good to him. He seemed more sincere and thoughtful than he had been before his disappearance, and he had a more mature (dare she say, handsome?) look to him. On the other hand, there were clearly some things that made even time throw up its hands in vain and say, "To hell with this!" Guybrush was still inexorably prone to disastrous accidents if the story about the Pox of LeChuck was anything to go by, and he was so obviously keeping something important from her that any passing dolt in the Institute would have been able to tell. In the end, that eternal underlying sweetness of his that won out, keeping her from punching him again, at least. That was only by a hairs width, though. Her snugglecakes was going to have to stay on his best behaviour if he knew what was good for him.

She left the Mighty Pirate™ alone for the time being when the announcement of the next shift went off. He would want some time to catch up with Morgan next, presumably. As much as the woman's attitude bothered her, she was a friend of Guybrush's, as she had claimed. Elaine could be strict, but she wasn't the kind of shrewish future wife/past fiancé who would keep her man from seeing his friends. Besides, she needed some more time to catch up on the goings-on of the Institute. Patients filled the building to the brim, now, it seemed; there would be a lot to investigate.

After a few quick trips back and forth to the bulletin and a few new leads to follow up on, the governor gave in to her nurse's persistent nagging and headed to the cafeteria for brunch. After the relatively light fare of the day before, Elaine took advantage of the Institute's admittedly scrumptious offerings and loaded up a full, balanced brunchfast of eggs, sausage links, waffles, and vegetable soup. As expected, the selection of drinks did not offer either root beer or grog. Grog she could live without, at least, she thought while making a face. Eugh. For now, she settled for a tall glass of water.

Elaine settled into a seat in the cafeteria and tucked into her meal. Her eyes didn't stay on her food, though, instead gazing around restlessly; she hadn't seen LeChuck so far this morning, and god forbid he wanted to invite himself to brunch with her if he chose now to show up. A certain horribly unpleasant dinner on Mêlée Island came to mind. She was prepared to either move at the first sign of the dread pirate or signal a random stranger to sit with her before he could.

[For Dean]

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Raphael woke up after what felt like a night packed with dreams of opening door after door after door, each time ending up in a different place, the locations steadily becoming more and more bizarre, but frustratingly never getting any closer to anywhere he recognised. The dreams were almost more exhausting than the actual night had been, one of those stupid days when you woke up wishing you could turn around and go right back to bed.

But that wouldn't help anything at all and he could just picture sensei's face if he could see Raph now, so the turtle dragged himself up and out for brunch. At least one thing in favour of today's weird set up was that sleeping in had only meant he missed wasting time in the Sun Room or the Chapel. Not much of a plus, but still.

Grabbing a tray, Raphael piled on some pizza, burgers, and fries before finding a seat and dumping the lot down on the table before all but flinging himself into the chair.

[for Edgar]

Edgar paused after receiving his tray, taking a moment to scan the room. Despite knowing Celes wouldn't be amongst the patients scattered around the tables, he still looked for her, checking each blond head in the hopes it would belong to her. He was less concerned with having an ally within the institute than he was for her well-being. A part of him didn't want to believe her spirit could have been crushed by Landel; however, there wasn't a chance she was attacked and killed during the night: if what her roommate said was true, then he'd been the last to see her.

She had to have been "released" in the gap of time from the end of night to dawn, when the prisoners were presumably put to sleep with a spell and whisked to their respective rooms somehow. She had been a vague image of herself during that final conversation: what prompted her removal from the institute? Was it all an elaborate act on her part to keep him from worrying?

She was gone now, so her act hadn't worked, if that was what it had been. Her disappearance, the curious events of the previous night, and his conversation with Natalia only fueled his drive to find answers. Landel couldn't continue to get away with his transgressions; his defeat was likely the only chance anyone had of getting home. If Edgar expected to see Figaro again, something would have to be done.

The machinist sighed tiredly as he made his way toward an empty batch of seats. It seemed that Celes might not have been the only ally he'd lost: he'd seen neither Harley nor Yuna in some time. Given the primarily male population of the institution, it seemed Landel had something against the fairer sex. How unfortunate.

As he passed one of the tables, Edgar spotted a familiar face in the crowd: Raphael. His fiery nature undoubtedly kept his spirit afloat in spite of the pressures of institute- he was likely to be one who wouldn't give up so easily. It was a notion that brought a private comfort. He took the seat opposite of the younger man, setting the tray he'd been carrying in one hand on the table. "Raphael," he addressed in greeting, his tone darker than usual.

"Mph?" Raphael looked up from where he was hunched over his tray protectively - meal times were sometimes an excuse for 'extra training', especially when Mikey felt like being extra annoying - his mouth full of burger and fries.

He swallowed with only a little difficulty, reaching for his glass of water and taking a mouthful to help wash the whole mess down before trying to answer. He had at least that much by way of manners... sometimes.

"Hey." Edgar wasn't so bad, he figured. There were worse people he could have had sit down opposite anyway. But there was something different about the guy's voice now. "What's up with you?"

"Aside from the rough night?" Edgar said with a wry smile as he took a seat, hissing through his teeth as he adjusted his injured shoulder. Those painkillers the nurse had offered him were starting to sound better and better; however, he wasn't desperate enough to trust the remedies this place carried, especially now. Hopefully, Gren was handling his injuries well enough- his arm had been in poor shape.

He brushed his hair from his face with his good hand, taking a moment to let the pain subside. "A close friend of mine was removed from this place yesterday," he said in a low, even tone, sounding better than he felt.

That got a snort of laughter from Raph, somewhat choked around a mouthful of fries and pizza. "What, you did the weird jumpin' around thing too?" he asked curiously. He'd figured it was something affecting everyone, but beyond that he needed someone like Donny to make heads or tails of it.

That bit about losing people, though, that he could get. "Sucks to lose someone," he agreed, his voice holding a slightly thicker accent than before. "Friend of yours? ...Family?"

"Just a friend," Edgar answered quietly as he prodded his eggs, "though one I knew before my arrival here. Not that I know where my family- not even my twin- is at this point, either." Kidnapping aside, the ever-present threat of the Light of Judgment made it impossible to know who was still around. Despite that, he was sure Figaro was out there- buried, but not destroyed. He was certain Sabin was alive somewhere, as well. A little thing like the end of the world wasn't likely to crush him literally or figuratively.

Edgar paused a moment as he considered answering the earlier question, wondering just how much he could trust Raphael. His experience told him to be cautious with the information he had- it was likely the battle he and Gren faced the previous night wasn't a common one, given the strange setting and the reward that appeared after they'd achieved victory; however, his instinct wanted to make use of any potential allies he had, and so many had vanished without a trace already.

Perhaps he would think on it for now- after all, they may have had a common enemy, but it was likely that not all patients saw themselves as unified on that front. "The doors weren't working for us, either," he said, looking Raphael in the eyes. "We were taken as far as town to some sort of a curiosity shop. What about yourself? Anything exciting?"

"If by 'excitin'' you mean a bunch of random rooms 'round the place, then yeah," Raphael grumbled, tearing another chunk out of his pizza and chewing it messily. "Ain't nothin' worth it in any of 'em either. I was tryin' ta get outside, hop the wall or somethin', but kept gettin' tossed around inside. Pretty freakin' annoyin' if you ask me."

Finding himself back in the town would have at least given him something to fight, assuming the zombies he'd heard about were still there. It would have still been a wasted night, but a wasted night he could work out some damn frustration in. He went back to tearing into his food, when something else the other patient said stopped him.

"You dunno where your family is?" Raph repeated, caught off-guard momentarily. His brunch forgotten, he gave Edgar his full attention. "How come?"

Edgar paused, jam spread only halfway across the toast on his plate. He brought his good hand to rest under his chin, thinking a moment. "The world I come from is in ruins," he answered truthfully. "A vile man hellbent on becoming a god destroyed it, changing the shape of the land overnight and using his new-found powers to obliterate anyone who opposed him. My home, Figaro, hasn't been seen in months."

It frustrated the king to be trapped within the walls of the institute, unable to help his people survive in the decaying world. If the castle was buried under the sands and unable to surface for any reason, it was only a matter of time before they perished. They couldn't live beneath the ground indefinitely.

"I was with my brother when it happened, but we were separated," he continued, sounding a little less pensive. "I'm confident he's faring better than Figaro. Thankfully, he's far too stubborn to let something like a crazed magician rearranging the face of the world be the end of him."

"A magician?" Raphael repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. Geez, and he'd thought he and his family had had it pretty tough against the Foot and the Shredder (and everyone else that came along and decided they wanted a piece of them). But at least that was mostly just in New York. Even Leo hadn't gotten ideas crazy enough to think they should try and save the whole world when things went wrong.

...okay sure, maybe they'd done that once or twice, but it was only something that had happened while they were trying to take care of their little family, not like they woke up one day and decided they should look out for everyone. Wasn't like the rest of the world would look out for them or anything.

"So your brother," he said, looking at his food and poking at the small salad the nurse had insisted be set up on the side. "You think he's here or 's it just you, on your own?"

Edgar looked away from the conversation for a moment, his mind clearly elsewhere. "He's not here," he said, no doubt in his voice. It was true that given the numbers in the prisoner population, there was a chance he could have missed seeing those he suspected had been 'released'- Yuna, Harley, Kuukaku, all not seen for days- but Sabin was a different story.

He returned his attention to Raphael, the smile on his face tinted with melancholy. "If Sabin was hiding somewhere in the institution, he'd have let himself be known by now. He's the sort who's hard to miss with his physique- he's a martial artist by trade and tends to stand out in a crowd."

The shoulder wound ached dully; Edgar's hand went to it unconsciously, his teeth gritting together. "He's also the sort who wouldn't let undead beasts have their way with my shoulder," he said with a sore grin. He briefly imagined how the fight would have progressed had his twin been present, then decided to save that disturbing notion for later. He still had a meal to eat.

"No kiddin'?" Raphael laughed, smile lighting up his face easily. "I'm a martial artist too. Ninjutsu. Learned it from my father, along with my brothers. All four of us grew up with it."

He took a bite out of another slice of pizza, in part to hide the pensive look that was stealing over him. "Yeah, I get it," he said around a mouthful of food. "If my bros where here as well, I'd know 'bout it by now. We're good at findin' each other. No matter what else happens. Always been good at that."

It seemed Edgar shared more similarities with Raphael than he'd initially expected. He flashed the younger man a wide smile. "Wow, four brothers? And I thought the one could be a hassle at times." He wasn't sure he could handle having three other siblings- then again, his situation was a tricky one. It had been easy enough to convince Sabin to pursue a life of freedom from the world of politics- all it took was the flip of a coin. A simple coin toss would have never worked with four heirs to the same throne.

"All in all, it's probably best our siblings are not here," he said thoughtfully. "As great of an aid as Sabin would be in escaping this wretched place, I wouldn't wish it on him. He'd likely get himself in a lot of trouble as it is, trying to save everyone all at once. His heart is in the right place, even if his head isn't sometimes."

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