By the time the events behind him in the cafeteria were cooling down -- or at least being settled by the guards -- most of the cooking staff had made themselves scarce. Rolling his eyes, annoyed with his supernatural inmates, Aiden reached over the counter and helped himself to the tiny boxes of cereal that one usually finds in school cafeteria.
What is the point of a box this size? A serving size? Really? On that note, he grabbed two more boxes, reached for a plastic spoon that was wrapped up in sanitation plastic, and a paper bowl. He wasn't sure if the rule applied to everyone, or just him, but he was under regulation not to ever eat off of regular bowls and use normal silverware. He wasn't even permitted to throw away his plastics and paper. Instead, he had to hand them in to the guard or nurse at the exit of the room, so that they kept record of if he attempted to bring it to his room or even ate.
When he first got here, he thought the rule was stupid, but as time went on and the desire to use the utensils to rid the world of himself grew... He understood pretty clearly why they kept him so tightly protected.
He borrowed the counter to pour out the contents of his cereal into the bowl, tossed out the three boxes, and then made his way over to the drinks station, which among other things and flavors, milk in tiny cartons were in a mini-fridge. Reaching in and grabbing two cartons, one for the bowl and one for himself, he looked over his shoulder to see what was left of the room to inhabit in civilized eating habits. Naturally, by now, the lights were out and flickering as the staff attempted to restore power, and everyone who had been involved appeared to either be exiting, or being escorted. All that appeared to be left was his sister, the new girl, ... and Medusa.
Snakes. Man, she can't even -hide- her species from the world. What life must be like for her.. He didn't see her often, but when he did see her and others like her - altered physically by their species or supernatural abilities - he would almost always act upon sympathy or empathy, reflecting in his mind about how much harder things must be for them than his own problems. He wasn't sure if he did this to keep him from wanting to kill himself, the meds, or if he actually gave a damn about some people in this place, but his feelings were undeniably true.
After a moment's contemplation, he walked over to sit next to her at the table she managed to find that hadn't been destroyed or otherwise damaged. He didn't look at her. Even with the precautions she took to keep her eyes off anyone, he still got creeped out. Just a little, though. He felt it was no more odd that she be limited by sight than he by voice. And besides, if she couldn't look at him and make eye contact without turning him to stone - or whatever she may be capable of as a modern day gorgon (he wasn't sure) - what was the point of his own attempt?
Still, out of habit, he nodded in her direction before proceeding to chow down.
