InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "A lonely Tweak is a sad Tweak"

Marcus (marcus_cole) wrote in mirage_rpg,
@ 2008-06-10 07:03:00

Entry tags:

complete, day 2, ichinomiya jun, marcus cole, the doctor, tsukasa doumyouji

WHO: Marcus and open to anyone without a thread for Day 2
WHAT: Meeting some fellow ~~inmates~~ inhabitants over breakfast
WHEN: Day 2, morning
WHERE: Restaurant
STATUS: Complete
RATING: PG for now

Marcus awoke in an unfamiliar room. Unlike the day before, the walls were no longer plain white, but were shining grey marble. Elaborate steel fixtures held many candles to light the space, and ornate draperies hung artistically. His bed was firm, but much wider than he'd remembered, and he now slept under a luxurious comforter. Since joining the Rangers, he'd had to sleep in some very spare arrangements. His cell had been small and bare, and on missions he'd even had to sleep on the ground sometimes. He had never slept in luxury like this, and he could have sworn he no longer felt the desire to. Nevertheless, from what Tonks had told him the day before, this was still his own room, now shaped to his subconscious whims. Where the hell had it got this concept?

Sitting up, he swung his legs over onto the floor and was delighted to find that everything he wanted immediately was in easy reach. Marcus slipped into a pair of shoes, and tossed a black tunic over his body. He made his way to the formerly simple bathroom for his usual purposes. Not nearly as astonished as before, he found that the sink was now far larger than could possibly be practical, and the tiny shower had been replaced by an elaborate jacuzzi/waterfall combination. He had to admit, he liked the ferns, but couldn't imagine taking a bath in the mini-pool.

After he emerged from the bathroom, Marcus got himself fully dressed and headed down to the restaurant for breakfast. He'd felt no ill effects from the food he'd eaten yesterday, and was determined to be more adventurous this time. What could he order that they couldn't possibly have? Making his way across the courtyard, Marcus could see that he wasn't the only person with an interest in breakfast. He wondered about his fellow prisoners, and decided to meet more of them. Finding a table with a couple of other people already seated at it, he took a seat.

"Good morning, everyone. Enjoying our breakfasts? My name's Marcus. I only arrived yesterday. How about you?"

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the_almighty_me
2008-06-10 02:50 pm UTC (link)

So, this was it. His second day in this place. He still couldn't say he was impressed (nor would he admit that he'd been impressed when, upon entering his assigned room, had succeeded in resembling one of his own. It wasn't as large, of course, but he didn't have anything in particular he could find to complain about otherwise). He hadn't slept overly well; whilst the bed had certainly looked like his bed, and it had felt like his bed, it wasn't his bed and regardless, he'd spent much of the time wondering about what was going on back in Japan to be worried about whether the bed was up to standards. No matter what anyone said, things back in Japan were (almost constantly) going to be on his mind. Not only was there Tsukushi and F4 (who were now, apparently, three), there was his family's company. Whilst he may not be the most mature young man ever, he had, in the last year, two years, become acutely aware of responsibility.

Regardless, other than in his thoughts, none of that particularly mattered here. He had nothing here, and wasn't anyone; no one knew who he was (which wasn't what bothered him, to be fair), it was more the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, expected to start over. He had been quite content and settled in his life in Tokyo. He'd had plans. Important plans. Plans he'd intended on completing (and, for all his faults, once he had his mind set on something, he tended to achieve it).

Therefore, as it was, he was currently contemplating his complete lack of anything worthwhile on this planet over breakfast, in what he deemed as a rather pleasant silence. If he wanted to speak with someone, he'd speak with them, and if not, then he was going to remain quiet and conversation was not going to be had. However, as someone new approached the table (Doumyouji had no idea who he was, but then, that wasn't a surprise), they seemed wonderfully unaware of the (to Doumyouji, at least) pleasant status quo that had been had prior.

Looking up at the speaker - Marcus - Doumyouji raised his eyebrows, staring at him for a few moments, his expression reflecting his feelings on the fact that someone apparently wanted to converse (he'd been quite content to wallow in his own self-pity for a little while longer). After a few moments of what would now be described as uncomfortable silence, Doumyouji responded. "Tsukasa Doumyouji. I arrived yesterday and if you're not the chef then there's not a lot of point in asking if we're enjoying our food". What kind of person, Doumyouji wondered, introduced themselves by asking something like that anyway. Despite having lived in New York for a time, and being fairly well travelled, he still couldn't help but wonder if it was a western thing.

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notginger
2008-06-10 02:54 pm UTC (link)

As usual, the Doctor hadn't slept a wink the previous night. Of course, this was a very natural part of his biology, but the decision to stay awake had been partially influenced by the shared sleeping arrangements. Why exactly the planet had decided that he wanted to share a bed with Rose... well, he had an idea, but not one he was about to vocalize. Instead, the Doctor had spent the night tinkering with the TARDIS until he was quite satisfied that it wasn't going to budge and had given into his pangs of hunger.

And so, that morning the Doctor wasn't exactly the most chipper of breakfast companions, letting his tea go cold as he stirred his cereal rather than ate it. Eventually he took a bite, and was rather surprised to find that it hadn't turned soggy; another perk of the planet, he supposed.

He glanced up as someone spoke to him in a friendly tone, managing a soft smile despite his perpetual melancholy. "Hi, Marcus. I only arrived yesterday, too," he commented, making a mental note to inquire whether this arrival had been through choice. "I'm the Doctor," he added, taking another crunchy spoonful of cereal.

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