Though Dante hadn't uttered a word since setting himself at a table with a large tray of food did not mean his mind was not constantly rushing about in either direction like a bat caught in a cage. Dante seemed to shovel down most of his abundance of food within moments though as the bare minimum of his hunger was satiated his vigor slowed; the prongs of his fork idly swirling and dragging streams of melted butter through his syrup river. From all appearances Dante seemed to be staring at his plate though his vision was barely focused as he was lost in his own thoughts.

[i]What is taking Emilia so long to get back? Had she gotten lost? Is she too afraid of all these strangers? I wouldn't blame her if it were the large turkey....[/i] The thoughts raced through his head until that shrill, chilling voices decided to break back in.

[i][b]'Poor little Dante.... When will you accept she doesn't want to hang around some nut job...'[/i][/b] The insult jabbed into his heart and made him cringe. [i]'I am not insane... No. This place is a mistake! I might be dangerous! But not insane! No, no! That wouldn't make sense! I know I am sane! Right? Of course...'[/i]

[i][b]'Right, right... Says the man arguing with himself?'[/b][/i]

[i]'I am not arguing with myself! I am arguing with you! Don't play with my mind!'[/i]

[i][b]'Oh Dante... I am you. Can't you see. Open your eyes boy. You really want to believe I am some evil old man bound to your soul... Tsk tsk... A sane man would have figured it out by now.'[/b][/i]

"Zitto, verme!" Dante cried out in a hard tone in italian which roughly translates to shut up maggot; his out burst warping and distorting the metal fork in his hand into a tangled mess of metal. He calmed seeing as he saw his nurse reach for something on his belt. He dropped the mangled piece of metal and raised his hands passively to show he had calmed. [i]'I am nothing like you....'[/i] he retorted within his thoughts. The voice lowly cackling as he disappeared back within his mind awaiting his next chance to chink at Dante's psyche.

Broken out of his train of thought he took a look around and seemed to gained more of an audience. Not only that but a girl had been sitting in front of him and he hadn't even noticed until this very moment. He felt nervous, a rare occurrence for the overly out going gentlemen. He didn't want to be the one person yelling at himself at the mental institute but I guess you gotta play the cards you're dealt. 

"My apologies for the outburst, my dear." Dante spoke charming in a warm, melodic tone with the faintest hint of an accent to the girl sat at his table and huddled within the shadows. "You seem a tad discomforted. Perhaps a nice [i]retreat[/i] would ease your worries." He said as he twirled his fingers and suddenly a simple playing card appeared between his index and middle finger. He tossed the playing card across the table and it slid to a stop before her. Though there was something strange about the card, it was not a normal card but a moving picture showing the setting sun over a warm beach.

If the girl just so happened to look at the card she would feel she was on a tropical island, hell she would feel as if she were there the entire time. Toes dug into the warm sand as she relaxed under the shade of a palm tree. The wave cresting and crashing quietly as the delicate breeze danced through the air. The rays of light a beautiful display of oranges and yellows as they stretched out high into the sky as if to grasp onto the heavens. Though all this would vanish as soon as she saw the polar bear resting against a palm tree licking a snow cone, I believe the flavor is blue berry but I doubt that matters since I don't think he would share. Once the illusion would vanish the girl would be back at the cafeteria table staring at a six of diamond.

Back in reality Dante began to look over the room at the new attendees. He was trying his best to balance pieces of pancake on his knife and get it to his mouth before it slipped off; his fork to mangle to use. Dante scanned over each face, doing his best to commit them to memory. Though each face he looked over he could feel the voice, it did not speak though Dante felt his hunger as if it were his own. His mind drifted into thoughts of how tasty one of their livers might be. The thought of the strong taste of blood left in his mouth made his salivary glands run wild. Suddenly he shook his head as if to rid the thoughts away. He quickly pushed himself up to his feet and quickly jogged out of the room. "I don't need a guide!" he demanded as he noticed his nurse start to follow.

As Dante journeyed down the hall he sighed, no longer in sight of any of those meals.... No! people! They are people! He clenched his jaw tight. The damned voice needed not a word to plague his mind. Through his journeying down several halls he finally found the small courtyard. He walked out, peering around to make sure he was alone. He went to a bench, flopping onto his rump lazily. Out of thin air he created a cigarette, not nearly as potent as real tobacco but it would do the trick. He placed an end between his lips and with a flick of his fingers the other end was in embers. He took a hard drag, the hot smoke nearly burning his throat though he savored the sensation. He exhaled slowly, the plume of smoke cultivating before dissipating in the breeze.