Day 56: Bus 1

[tightsofmight]

Previously, on Peter Parker's Sucky Life:

Pain, pain, fourth wall bulldozing, fire and pain, and teeny useless swords.

Yeah, so Peter wasn't feeling so hot today. It was a marked improvement on waking up after getting shanked by Grell, but this was in no way a good morning. They had all made it through the basement trials and got their dinky rewards, but man did they pay a hefty price for it. All of them. (Scott and the others had to fight robot raptors? What the hell...) Peter rose from his bed oh so delicately and with much wincing, thanking whoever it was that carried them back to bed every night for putting him belly down on his mattress.

His back, oh god. Peter seethed and hissed and grunted in pain. It felt like it was scabbing over, and the bandages yanked at the tender skin with every minute muscle spasm, every move he made. Cripes. Better his back than his arms or legs, but still. It was going to make things so difficult if they got stuck in Doyleton all over again.

Brainy was so thoroughly wrapped in his blankets on the other side of the room that Peter couldn't make heads or tails of his current state. But he'd stayed in the whole night, right? He should be fine.

Sometimes he just needed extra convincing of that. Considering the guy's track record and all.

From the sounds of it, this Aguilar guy wasn't changing too much of the routine. Being field trip day, Peter had wondered how the new man in charge would handle it (or how General Lieutenant Burger would, apparently). If he planned on letting them out at all. The announcement squashed that theory, and so did the orderly tromping in with a second-hand change of clothes. The burly man passed him the goods without so much as a word, stomping right back outside to wait behind the door. Guess they weren't going in military gear.

...Orderly? Peter pushed the door open again after performing the hastiest change of clothes he could manage in his state, peering at the man. That guy was in an army uniform yesterday. He remembered him. His buzz cut was uneven and he had a pointy old mole on the back of his neck.

"Uh. Are you going incognito?"

He was suddenly on the end of such a pointed look Peter could swear he was talking to Nick Fury. If Nick Fury was white and still had both eyes. "...Right. Okay. Lead the way, hombre."

So undercover it was. The people of Doyleton didn't know this was a military operation. Briefly, he wondered what the advantages of revealing that to the townsfolk could be, but then he remembered how they'd all up and morphed into the living dead at sundown. Put to rest any usefulness they might have had. They were just puppets, the same as the rest of the creepy crawlies in this hellhole.

Though that did beg the question as to why you would have to hide your secrets from puppets in the first place.

He was bequeathed with the usual paper bag lunch and packet of coupons, though he was still surprised to find himself a $15 gift card in the mix. Intercom Dude wasn't kidding about that?

He had money?

...What would he even do with money in Doyleton? What was fifteen dollars and worth buying that wasn't a gourmet burger? Peter boggled at the card as he clambered onto the bus. He'd never gone through the town with any inclination to window shop, so he couldn't even say what was available. He might actually have to look around. Even something simple might be a big help.

The orderly-formerly-known-as-Private-Dwight followed him on tucked a pillow into his seat for him. "Sit down. And don't do anything stupid. You'll heal a lot faster if you don't agitate it."

Peter fidgeted, but quietly settled into the pillow. This was kind of awkward. "Um. Thank you. I deeply appreciate your concern." The man nodded, and was gone.

Peter was the only one on the bus so far. The emptiness was kind of creeping him out.

[Reserved for Harvey Dent. WHY AM I TOP POSTING EVERYTHING YOU JERKS.]

Comments

[taggingwomprats.livejournal.com]

After he'd hastily changed into clothes that probably wouldn't have been too out of placy in Mos Eisley, considering the wear and tear on them, he'd been led out to a wheeled ground vehicle (of all things) by the man he was beginning to think off as "Stormtrooper Want-to-be Number One". All of his questions had been met with silent glares. At least he knew he was planetside again. And somewhere with snow.

Why was it always snow?

He sat down in one of the chairs and stared out the window. More "orderlies", more prisoners.

What the Hell did it all mean? And how was he going to get out of here?

_[Free!]

[thatdemonbitch.livejournal.com]

As usual, the morning came and Ruby started awake with a gasp. Sitting up caused agony to shoot up through her chest and she grunted out a quiet noise of displeasure at it, hand flying to the front of her uniform where the doctor -- soldier? whichever -- had been digging around the previous night. There was still a hot, painful thrumming in her veins, like a thousand needles stabbing into her.

As the announcement by Aguilar's bitch wore on, she tore open the front of her uniform to get a look at the result of her less than stellar evening. A button snapped off and rolled across the room from how hasty her attempt was. Puckered and raised, red and discolored, the flesh there was still healing and there was one long, extensive wound running up the length of her breast bone, ugly black stitches keeping the skin from falling open and urging it to heal by mashing it together.

Her attention was drawn away from the wound by a soldier, disguised as a nurse, walking in and handing out old clothes for them to use for the day. At least she had the decency to come drop it on the foot of Ruby's bed instead of the desk. She couldn't imagine it would be a pleasant experience to crawl over there just to get changed. Reaching out, she pulled them towards her, grimacing as subtly as she could manage at the movement.

There was just no escaping the pain, was there? If it wasn't from the gaping wound in her chest that was still working its way toward healing, it was the pain that she couldn't escape inside of her that had her meatsuit feeling more like a burlap sack filled with knives and organs that someone had shaken up.

Inventory had her racking up a pair of worn-out jeans, a long sleeved shirt in maroon (not helping the pain, Aguilar), a pair of boots that looked like someone had used them well for hiking and a heavy, faded black coat. There was no way the scooping neck of the shirt would completely disguise the wound in her chest, either. Begrudgingly, she pulled herself out of the bed, biting back noises that would indicate discomfort with her own body, and began to pull it on. Reaching her arms over her head was the worst part -- it tugged at the skin of her chest, putting tension on the stitches, which made it an action she'd be avoiding the rest of the day if she could help it.

Stepping out of her room fully dressed, she was handed a sack lunch and brought out towards the front of the institute where the buses were waiting in the snow. As she climbed on board, she began to pull up the zipper on her jacket all the way to the top and work on the fastenings. The cold was making the prickling pain worse, but there wasn't going to be a single complaint made about it. Just a whole lot of bad mood.

Searching out a seat on the bus was made easy when she saw the kid who looked to be wallowing in his own confusion and self-pity, staring out the window. For her own comfort, she picked the bench across the aisle from him -- there was no way in hell she was cozying up to someone when she was in this much pain, not in these cramped quarters -- and cast a look sideways at him.

"You've got about twelve hours to get over the culture shock. If I were you, I'd start now. Yeah, I get it, the whole thing blows, but guess what? It may suck from where you're sitting, but your grass is a hell of a lot greener than those of us who've been around for a while." She shifted in her seat, trying to find a position that didn't involve massive ways of discomfort from the residual pain. Unfortunately, it was starting to seem like no such position existed.

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

Knowing who to thank for good fortune was tricky when you were a supreme, almighty being. If Kibitoshin had been just that little bit more arrogant, he'd have thanked himself for the way that night had ended just as things were starting to get tricky.

Not that he had been scared of finding a mountain lion. Goodness, no. Perish the thought. He was a supreme almighty being, after all. It was simply tactical thinking on his part that had left him wholly and passionately opposed to the idea of hunting monsters to eat. That, or it was the red meat. Yes, he wasn't supposed to eat that much red meat. Terrible for his digestion.

...

Clearly.

With a heartfelt sigh he sank down into his nice, uncomfortable bus seat near the front, not too far from one of those scary grunts, and settled down into his terrible Doyleton clothes for the journey. He wasn't relieved that he wouldn't be fighting to the death, understand, it was simply the way that his new shoes were so much more comfortable than his military boots had been the day before. It would do him good to get out of the Institute and into the snow for a while. Put some colour on his cheeks, as his Ancestor might have said. That terrible claustrophobic choke the building had couldn't have been good for his nerves.

Not that zombies were much better, but still. At least he wouldn't have to eat the pink goo. And he had a window seat for the journey, so that was good, wasn't it?

... oh, who was he kidding? The Kaioshin sighed again, and this time it came out a world or two sadder than he'd realised it would. He was trapped, he was ashamed of himself for being frightened over nothing last night, and he was still cross with Franziska and with himself for the desire to apologise that was slowly creeping up on him. And to top it all off, his sweater had bumble bees knitted on it. He didn't see how he could possibly be happy today, even if he tried.

[lastlovesong]

At last, she was finally out of those stuffy military uniforms; spending the entire day yesterday was a bit disturbing, but at least she stayed asleep during most of the afternoon and night. Both the uniform and the increase of military personnel's brought up some unpleasant memories that she didn't want to remember. And to top it off, that side of her was becoming restless.

If the head doctor is not in charge anymore, it should be easier to escape now. Everybody else is now part of an army, so it shouldn't be too hard now...I have too...all of-

"MOVE IT GIRL. I SAID KEEP ON MOVING!"

"A-Ah! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Yep, just like the good old days...except that it would've been aimed at the SDF recruits. Plus she would've been in her school uniform, instead of wearing baggy sweater with a sea lion wearing a black bow tie and dark brown pants. Maybe they'll let her keep the sweater if she asked one of the nurses.

Too infatuated with the little sea lion, she quickly sat down in a random seat when the same guard yelled at her again. Once he left, that's when she noticed that the seat was already preoccupied.

"Um, y-you don't mind if I sit here, do you?"

[moral-liberty.livejournal.com]

Kaworu's memories of the town were split now. Previously, he had only recalled a place that not only held death, but moved with it. Death was an energy, a force of its own, and it came after the others. Lilim that turned upon one another, so that all could be the same. It was a strange life that would cause its own destruction, but again and again, it was what humanity proved to be. Within the Tree of Knowledge, they had found that which now defined them, and hurt them. Always together, always alone, never certain. Unlike Kaworu, who, he supposed, was always alone with certainty.

But the lines had grown increasingly unclear. He immediately pictured a smiling face, with long red hair and kind words that were laced with something else. Something new and fascinating. He, too, was disconnected from humanity, or so believed. He wasn't an Angel, but these things were only labels anyway. Only categories assigned to ease the impact of the differences between one life and another. Perhaps belief was what mattered most.

Or perhaps that was only what Kaworu hoped for. In his heart, he knew there was no amount of belief that would make him Lilim for Shinji's sake.

Although that thought subdued him, he was reminded of the other association he had with Doyleton and these busses. Being close to Shinji. The feel of another's hand in his. The weight of Shinji's body leaning on him. A smile warmed his features, and he was eager to arrive. There was no asking required. He put on the new clothes without thought, pausing only as he was offered yet another item. A card, and then a coat, he realized. He didn't argue, but didn't understand until he walked outside.

The snow obscured his surroundings, but highlighted the outlines of whatever it clung to and made them more striking. Unreal imitations of what he knew. There wasn't enough time to observe it all, as his escort was only interested in seeing him on the bus. Kaworu took the nearest seat, and without hesitation leaned close enough to the window that his breath fogged on the glass.

[For Stefan!]

[sainted]

He didn't remember falling asleep.

Which described every morning he'd had for the past week, except this time he did remember lying down in bed, with Elena curled up beside him. He felt that absence first (the smell of her hair, her familiar warmth, the slow cadence of her breathing) and nearly awoke in a panic, before he saw the white walls of his patient room again, and Castiel in the opposite bed. They were still here. His fingers self-consciously tugged the tight collar of shirt — someone had put it back on him — as he listened for activity outside their door. Something was different about today.

For once, the voice on the intercom was in the mood to give them real information. Not a second after the system clicked off, an unfamiliar nurse arrived to grant him a change of clothes and brusquely order him outside. Old clothes, the kind of which they had stored in endless boxes in the boarding house, albeit considerably less expensive than the sort his "ancestors" favoured. Hoodie, jeans, wool coat, scarf and scuffed combat boots. From the layers they'd forced on him, Stefan wasn't surprised to see that it was snowing when he exited the building.

He got all of thirty seconds to enjoy it before an orderly pushed toward one of the waiting buses, the latest in a busy lineup of patients. Everyone wore a similar motley of hand-me-downs, and carried a paper bag granted to them by one of the staff. Stefan couldn't see Elena or Damon (or Alaric — he was here too, wasn't he?), but someone else caught his eye the moment he stepped aboard. The boy's nose was almost against the glass, hiding most of his features except a head of shaggy grey hair, but Stefan recognized him anyway.

"Kaworu." He glanced at the rest of the bus (not too crowded yet) before sliding into the seat beside him. "Are you looking for someone?"

[escapedpandora.livejournal.com]

It had to be the most confusing morning in his memory, and Hope wondered if he was starting to get used to the confusion since he barely batted an eye when he first woke up in his room again. There was light this time, much to his relief, although he had no idea how he got back to his room. Hadn't he gotten far away? Decently far, at least, or at as far as he could in the darkness.

And then that conversation...

He could have laughed when he realized what disturbed him the most in the morning was his change of clothes. Another world, possibly another universe, and he couldn't stop fussing about the old hand-me-down clothes that he got in the morning? But he had never seen old clothes like that, much less worn them before. He found himself just following along numbly as guards (soldiers? doctors?) came to held him out, not bothering to explain anything as they handed him items shoved into a brown paper bag.

What was this place? The call in the morning said trip, said going out... but all he could feel as he was herded onto the old, rusty bus (what world even used those things anymore?) wasn't the appreciation of the sunlight or the fact that he was still alive; he felt like he was being pushed along toward an execution.

No one here that he knew, no one that cared anymore anyway, and a life he'd never be able to get back. He had convinced himself that he had to live in order to get revenge, but... how was he supposed to do that here? No chance, that's what it was. No chance, no reason-- why was he even here?

It didn't matter what the people here wanted. Hope curled up in his seat, pulling his knees up and burying his face in the worn, laundered fabric of his new (old. Old and he'd never seen clothing so old before) clothes, silently hoping this was all just a strange nightmare. Not just this, but the entirety of the past two days as well.

[For Anise?]

[gald_digger]

That wasn't so bad, really. Anise had felt a lot of dread regarding their trip to the ruins, but in the end, they didn't experience anything to horrifying or disastrous. And they even got out of there with their pockets full of money!

... Well, they did, but as Anise's hands reached for Tokunaga and her pants pocket, she found no doll in bed with her, and nothing in her pocket. Right, the military took everything. Hopefully, she'd get it all back later. Those creeps better not have pocketed a few bills for themselves!

When Anise pulled herself out of bed, she was greeted by a familiar-looking nurse. After staring at the woman's face for a few moments, she realized when it was that she'd seen her before. "Hey, you're...!" The lady soldier who was escorting Anise around yesterday. Today, she was dressed in a nurse's uniform, with her hair pulled up in a bun. This was probably what the guy on the intercom meant by Aguilar's best men and women.

The woman offered a small smile as she set a pile of clothes down on Anise's bed. "You'll be wearing these today. Don't complain if they look bad; you should've seen what we had to choose from." She stepped back to the door and looked away, allowing Anise some semblance of privacy while she changed into the assortment of foreign clothes.

There was a pair of black leggings, a short plaid skirt, and a black long-sleeved blouse. Anise was getting pretty sick of wearing so much black lately, but the skirt was passable, at least. In addition to the basic outfit, she was provided with a pair of boring-looking brown boots and a heavy coat that actually looked kind of nice. The coat was dark pink, with a hood lined with what looked like animal fur... but it didn't really feel like fur at all. Anise couldn't complain at all; it was rare that the staff actually picked something in her favorite color. Maybe this was another perk to being S Class.

Once she was all bundled up, Anise was led to one of the buses. All of this was routine to her now, including the paper bag with snacks and the small bundle of coupons. The whole allowance thing was new, though, and she knew she'd have to take a closer look at that money card once she sat down.

Looking around, there weren't a lot of people seated so far. Among those few, Anise spotted a guy around her age huddled in his seat. She wasn't sure what his problem was, but maybe he could use some cheering up. Stopping next to him, she asked with a friendly smile, "Hey, is this seat taken?" She gestured to the seat just next to him.

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

There was a Lieutenant General now? This was getting complicated. Though...if they were lucky, all the people involved would be revealed before long and all their weaknesses exposed. Hopefully without anyone getting set on fire. Well, anyone except the soldiers and generals and pretty much anyone Mele didn't like.

Mele paused as she held up the clothing she'd been given, and after a moment decided it couldn't hurt much to ask— "There doctors around?" ... Of course there were, everyone was bandaged before waking up in their beds. And the guard didn't even answer. Ugh, whatever. It wasn't like she'd finally remembered why that room had seemed familiar, anyway.

Huddled in the plain brown coat on the way to the buses (against the cold, nothing more), she considered the extra privileges the Lieutenant General had talked about. 'Privileges' had better not be a code word for something unpleasant. Nothing had happened last trip despite Mele's caution, but there was no guarantee the same would repeat itself this time. At the very least, she could try kicking a guard and yanking a weapon if she needed to....

That in mind, Mele took a seat anywhere before pulling out the coupons and cards to examine. Coupons and card, rather, she noted as she flipped the thing around. An ID card? Didn't they have necklaces for that?

[oneman-onekill.livejournal.com]

[assuming some stuff from a backthread]

"Ugghhhuuurgghhhhh..." The undignified noise that issued forth from Niikura's mouth as soon as he regained consciousness could not have been louder - or more over-exaggerated. That complete moron! He should have known better than to let total newbs help them out in an actual battle! Ugh! He probably even had a scab...that wasn't going to stand out against his pale hair at all.

--oh no, just kidding. He had gotten the classic bandage-'round-the-head deal instead. Now that actually looked kind of heroic. Niikura didn't have too much time to reflect on the awesomeness he had just achieved, though, as the door swung open as soon as the morning announcement had finished to admit one of the soldiers, now dressed so inconspicuously as a nurse, who dumped a pile of clothes at the foot of his bed before moving over to stand by the door, arms crossed.

"Good morning to ya too," Niikura muttered as he pulled on the clothes. The outfit was different from last time: a thick, collared dark jacket and a long-sleeved shirt with faded, worn jeans. Given the weather, it didn't seem wholly appropriate, but he kind of figured that that was the point. Nothing like a near brush with hypothermia to build character.

The soldier led him to one of the buses and handed him a paper bag before tossing him a newsboy cap. "Cover that up," he said, pointing a finger at the bandage before ushering him on board.

"Sure thing," Niikura called back as he disappeared down the aisle, adjusting the brim of the cap so that it was pulled low enough to hide the bandage in its shadow. If he remembered correctly, another Shou had a thing for these kinds of hats, so at least it wouldn't be unflattering.

No sign of either Mike or their mystery civilian attacker on this bus. Niikura sighed and dropped into the seat next to the first person he knew - Mele.

"Yo, what's up, Mele-san?" He waved and smiled. "How're ya likin' the new management around here?"

[dualistic]

Sad though it was, Harvey was used to waking up in a bed feeling like Hell warmed over. Well, maybe not used to it, but he'd definitely been through it a startling number of times in the past three weeks or so. However, even with that in mind, this morning was particularly rough. All of the pain that he'd struggled with last night was still there, and it hadn't even faded that much.

That was the thing about burn wounds; they lingered. As he stared up at the ceiling, much like he'd done in that lava room the night before, he moved his good arm over and allowed his hand to hover above his shoulder where he'd been burned. He could still feel heat radiating off of it. Even though the skin and tendons had been charred thoroughly, the burns hadn't ruined his pain receptors. It was like a phantom wound -- it still sort of felt like he was on fire, and that sensation wouldn't fade for some time.

Well, who knew with this place? His initial burns hadn't showed any sign of healing, but he hadn't received those wounds here. He wasn't going to pretend he knew how any of that worked, though.

Not that it mattered right then. Regardless of how much he hurt, he needed to get out of bed and keep moving. That's what he'd told himself last night, and it applied now. He honestly didn't know how the hell the six of them were going to handle that coliseum when they were all sporting gashes or burns, but he'd cross that bridge when he got to it. He doubted postponement was an option, though.

As he forced himself out of bed, Harvey groaned at the combination of pain coming from his arm, shoulder, hand, and side, but he still made it to his feet with enough effort. He listened to the announcement, which seemed generic enough at first (so they were still going into town, huh?), but was tripped up when it sounded like they would be getting actual money. Not a lot of money by any means, but it could probably go a long way in a small town.

Though remembering Jones' comment last night, the first thing Harvey thought of was the bar.

He was getting ahead of himself, though. A nurse walked in, although... there was something that didn't seem right. She seemed far too muscled for that profession, and as she handed him a set of clothes and told him to get dressed, he distinctly felt like he was being ordered. What was this, some sort of sad attempt to act like everything was back to "normal" again? Was the military going to be putting on appearances for the zombie townspeople?

Honestly, he didn't care either way. Once the woman had left the room, Harvey went through the careful process of getting dressed while badly wounded. It involved a lot of slow movements and loud curses (that luckily didn't wake up Lunge), but eventually he was dressed. The outfit this time consisted of a striped thermal shirt covered by a black hooded sweatshirt and a pair of dark jeans. It hardly fit his age or his demeanor, but he was getting the feeling that that was the goal here.

He was also given a pair of gloves and a hat to shield against the cold weather, but both were shoved into the pocket of his sweatshirt for the moment. It was only when he was led outside and saw that the ground was covered in snow that he realized just how much it was needed. He decided to put the gloves on, but he thought the wool cap would just look too ridiculous when he was half-covered in bandages.

[dualistic]

So, after being given his sack lunch (a step up from the gruel of yesterday), he climbed up into one of the buses. One of the first people he saw was Ruby, and Harvey almost tripped over himself trying to move past her. Other than that, though, the bus was mainly crowded with kids, and he almost felt like he'd gotten onto the wrong one.

But then he saw another familiar face, the kid from a few days back who he'd talked to briefly over breakfast. Peter, his name was. He looked like he was in pain now, and... did he have a cushion for his back? Had he sprained it or something?

However, as Harvey stood there for a few seconds longer, it suddenly clicked in his head. It was hard to tell how tall Peter was when he was sitting, but his build fit the spandex-clad boy he'd partnered up with the night before. He couldn't be sure, but hearing his voice would probably make him certain.

Or maybe the kid would just fess up when he moved over to sit with him. "Hey," he said as he stepped forward, standing in the aisle right next to the kid's seat, "can I join you?" If he was lucky, Peter's reaction would prove his theory right off the bat.

[falseblack]

Bloodless surroundings meant little to a fissured mind, and despite assurances to the contrary, Nigredo wondered if his brother died in the transition. Fortunately, the link confirmed a complete survival--Albedo was indeed very much alive. Moving as well. The younger no longer had a need to hold last night's tension, and he relaxed for the first time in days.

He contemplated returning to sleep. The Doyleton trip could continue without his presence. He almost passed out, in fact, but his borderline dreams were interrupted by an annoyingly tall man wearing hospital attire. His military escort. Nigredo blinked up at him as the man lowered a stack of clothing on his face.

"You have ten minutes to get dressed," he said briskly. From the sounds of footsteps and a closing door, he left without a word to the consequence of failure.

Stunned, Nigredo stared at the fabric covering his face for five of those ten minutes. He couldn't tell if the man had meant to be facetious. Chances were great he was simply impatient, and thus, Nigredo took to his feet to change. By the time he finished his assigned task, the child had twenty seconds and enough exhaustion to spare. The soldier appeared mildly pleased when he returned.

Moments later, the boy was placed on a bus with the usual paper bag. Sleepiness piqued despite the cold, and he leaned against the window pane, closing his eyes. He doubted he could get away with an hour's worth of napping, but five minutes were better than nothing.

[For Rose L.]

[lovecraftcomplex]

Five sessions, three groups? All the sessions (granted, this was a sum total of two) had had an even number of players, though there was no particular reason a chain couldn't be formed with fewer. It lent itself less well to a balanced stalemate, opposing teams locked in a futile battle -- but the game had to be flexible. Roles mixed and matched -- what had GC been going on about, between the sarcasm and the sniffing? S33R 0F M1ND P4G3 OF BL00D KN1GHT 0F BR34TH M41D 0F T1M3, wasn't it? Something like that, though a few might have gotten swapped. The image of Strider in a maid's costume had been worth remembering, just to tell it to him. For ironic purposes, of course.

Some of the roles must be required, and some optional, or so she'd assumed. Multiple sessions coming together could mean none were superfluous. Hmm.

She didn't have very long to consider this conundrum -- it seemed narcolepsy was contagious. She fell asleep where she stood, and woke back on the camp bed she'd found herself on earlier.

Curious, that. If she'd been asleep before, was she awake now? Neither of these was Derse. Was it? She took a tentative hop; her feet hit the floor. She had vague memories of flying while awake, but they didn't seem to involve effortlessness. Awake, then, and the time in between a dark blur. Another voice sounded, again unfamiliar.

It identified itself, which was new and different, as was the message. Sessions and rewards she could understand -- but a field trip? Like a bunch of institutionalized children? The only thing that was obvious was the ranks -- their devotion to this misbegotten theme had broken down with the need to striate the population. She would have to study this -- they might seem to be studying her, but that would only increase her chances.

The door opened, and a woman walked in, her face a graven mask of indifference. This was the clothing delivery, and Rose changed in silence, slipping on a skirt and then unfolding the shirt. The woman smiled. Rose did not shove it up her gaping nostril. Letting them know that her secret being so boldly displayed bothered her would be a rookie mistake. Hating it, however, would be perfectly in character. She wrinkled up her forehead and bared her teeth before buttoning her coat over the powerful wizard's mien, and shoved matching grey earmuffs over her ears. They smelled like mothballs.

Once she was dressed, a paper bag was thrust at her, with the sole description of breakfast. She captchalogged it in her syllladex. I said, she captchalogged it in her sylladex. I SAID SHE CAPTCHALOGUED IT IN HER SYLLADEX.

It remained in her hand. Maybe she really was dreaming -- dreams blurred the boundaries of ownership and movement, but usually by simply removing the necessity of inventory management entirely. She hung onto it and followed the strange woman out the door.

The hallways and the grounds were teeming with people of all ages, half of them dressed in mismatched cast-offs and the other half in orderly's uniforms. Really, the point had been made. Three buses -- three groups? stood outside the doors, and without a choice in the matter Rose was whisked to the first one. On board, she selected a seat next to a boy with coal-black hair and wearing blue. He reminded her of John, though he wasn't quite as goofy-looking. Or perhaps it was just the fact that he was asleep, or at least pretending.

She sat down and opened her bag with a minimum of rustling, and pulled out an apple. Here goes nothing. She took a bite. It was an apple. Alas.

[hairraising]

This time, Rapunzel had blacked out not long after she had actually achieved her objectives for the night. Maybe she hadn't been able to heal Kratos all the way, and maybe the frying pan wasn't quite as big as the one she'd had back home, but that was all still a fair shade better than the night before. 

She wasn't sure what the man in the ceiling had meant by "Five sessions. Three groups." before the end of the night, but she could ponder that later. Right now, it seemed like they were going on a trip oh my gosh oh my gosh really?! A trip?! Are you serious?! Rapunzel's face had lit up like a firework at the news. So what if it was a prison-sanctioned trip? Who cared? With Mother Gothel, it had just been tower, tower, all the time. Not even one little trip to see the floating lights had been allowed. If her new captors were actually going to trust everyone enough to let them go out somewhere, they were already doing about a thousand times better than anything Gothel had done. 

So, it was with a surprising spring in her step that Rapunzel stepped out into the crisp winter air, digging her hands into the pockets of the puffy purple coat she had been given to wear for the day. The whole outfit she had been given suited her surprisingly well, in fact. She supposed the disguised orderlies and nurses at least knew enough about their prisoners to know which types of clothes to give to which people. That was an encouraging thought. Maybe they weren't so bad, she thought; maybe they were just misguided.

She had to stop in awe of the three yellow... things the moment she saw them. They were like giant carriages, what with all the seats she could see through the windows. Was that what they were? Everyone was piling inside rather than setting out for a long walk. Were there horses being prepared to pull these along to the town, then? There weren't any places for horses to be attached, as far as she could see. 

Rapunzel made a move to start circling  to get a better look, but was stopped by her "orderly" giving her a brown paper bag and re-directing her toward one of the metal leviathans. Well that worked too. Getting to see inside this strange new thing was a thrill all it's own. 

Once inside, Rapunzel walked the length of the narrow aisle between seats. Then back to the front. Then back to the back. With every pass, she peered out windows, looked under empty seats, felt the material the seats were made of, and otherwise looked exactly like the awestruck, sheltered young girl she was. She finally settled on a seat near the very back, where she could get the best view of the whole carriage and a window looking out on the road behind them. With her hair draped across her shoulder and bundled in her lap, Rapunzel set her brown bag on top of the bundle and started rummaging inside to see what was for breakfast.

[Unknowingly waiting for Sasuke]

[sasuke-of-sound.livejournal.com]

The intercom had crackled to life just as the artifact clicked into place, and Sasuke had barely had enough time to swear before the voice was announcing the end of the night (and whatever plans there had been -- five sessions, perhaps of patients undergoing experiments, but what of three groups?). He blinked awake under his blankets a moment later, frustrated enough to punch the soldier dropping a weight onto his bed before realising that that meant it was the day they were taken to the village.

Apparently in civilian clothes, still, which begged the question of whether the eviction of Landel had been noticed by the people in the town. That question in turn led to that of whether those people would even care if they did, given what they appeared to be at night -- but then again, the nurses and staff that had been of the same ilk had seemed to disapprove of the change, which ... meant that they were more than mere disguises for thoughtless beasts at night, perhaps. Or perhaps Landel controlled them in that way.

But if Landel controlled the staff and Aguilar the soldiers, who controlled the townspeople? The line of frustration that had creased Sasuke's forehead only deepened into one of thought as he felt his way through buttoning the too-many buttons on the shirt and vest he'd been given. At least the pants this time were of a more flexible material -- but there was the return of the squeaky jacket -- by the time he finally reached the bus, there was enough irritation building around him that he might as well have had a thundercloud of his own to match the weather.

It lasted right until the soldier handed over a card along with the regular coupon packet and informed him that they were allowed to purchase things in town this time around. Was this some other trial, perhaps; after forcing them to steal for so long, was Aguilar explicitly giving them permission to find tools?

Whatever the case, it opened up opportunities. With a proper purchase it would perhaps be possible to get materials for a lockpick, first of all, and then ... taking a seat near the back of the bus, away from too many voices, Sasuke occupied himself by contemplating the various useful and threatening things he could potentially cobble together with the twenty-five credits he apparently had by using the card (however that would work -- was the shopkeeper going to write on it or something?). Perhaps he could even find materials for a smokebomb or two, the Academy-learned recipe coming to mind as he rummaged for breakfast in the brown bag he'd been given.

It wasn't until the same set of footsteps returned a few times that he finally took notice of someone else, someone who appeared to be having difficulty finding somewhere to sit. Which was odd, because it didn't sound like there were too many on the vehicle yet.

"Looking for something?" It was the first time in a long while that he'd started a conversation without an explicit goal, but things were clearly changing enough at the Institute that new voices were worth hearing.

Also, the idea of proper weaponry was always a mood-lifter, though Sasuke wasn't about to admit that to himself.

[immortale]

Firo awoke with a groan.

It took him a moment to realize he didn't remember falling asleep at all... and he definitely didn't remember returning to his room. He'd had his own clothes returned to him and he'd gone out; he'd seen with his own eyes that there really were creatures roaming the halls, and he and Dexter had come under attack by them... But now here he was, sitting up in bed, dressed in uniform like he had been the day before.

The speaker came alive as he pulled out of bed, and the man on it introduced himself as Lieutenant General Berg. Firo headed for the closet as Berg began to speak about what was apparently an upcoming trip, looking for the box that had held his clothes. It was nowhere to be seen, and Firo frowned. Last night... He was sure it had been here; he hadn't just imagined everything... had he? Yet here he was, as if everything last night had been a dream. It had seemed real, but maybe he was going crazy.

Just as he'd begun to entertain that notion, the words he'd been partially paying attention to caught his attention fully. Five dollars. Ten dollars; fifteen... Generosity was one thing, but that much these days? And giving money to prisoners, no less... If the poor begging for work knew about this, the prisons would be bursting at the seams, Firo was sure. But even without overcrowding, how could the prison afford this?

The announcement ended with a warning, and a moment later the door opened. The person who came through wasn't the soldier from yesterday. The lady handed him a bag of clothes and ordered him to change before stepping out to allow him a moment to do so in private. Firo stared down at the bag.

It was the second time he'd been delivered clothes in under 24 hours, but this time, they were entirely unfamiliar: there was a blue and white plaid shirt and dark corduroy trousers, along with a pair of scuffed leather shoes. The woman returned as he finished changed into them, leaving the top buttons of his collar undone, and handed him gloves and a heavy coat. Firo pulled them on and followed her out of the room, curious about the trip.

The woman led him in the direction of the Sun Room, but then turned right instead of left, heading across a lobby and outside of the building, where some odd-looking buses awaited. He headed for the first one, and a paper sack was shoved into his hands before boarding. Standing in the aisle, he looked around for anyone he recognized, but didn't see any familiar faces—or anyone sitting alone.

Firo headed for the first empty seat, sliding across to be by the window, and then opened the paper bag.

[For Lion]

[hersalvation.livejournal.com]

And the next thing she knew, Lion was slowly being awoken by the voice over the intercom.

It was disconcerting, because in what felt like moments ago Lion was still upstairs in a hallway, and Franziska had just asked her if she were capable of getting a locked door to open. Not that she could-- or at the very least, didn't know if she were capable of doing so. Nonetheless, the sudden change in setting was one way to get Lion to wake up quickly, eyes darting around the room as if she hadn't been sleeping at all.

... How did this happen?

Only a few minutes passed before the door to the room clicked open, and one of the personnel came through; they were just as unresponsive as all the others yesterday, but handed Lion a change of attire and ordered her to dress into them quickly. This in itself was surprising as well, but she hardly had any qualms with changing into something less... militarily. Even if the clothes she was given looked somewhat worn out, Lion was noticing once she really got a good look at them-- she was never given stuff like this to wear, but... beggars couldn't quite be choosers, could they? The men in charge here weren't going to care what sort of background she came from, and so, sighing lightly in defeat, Lion changed into the winter appropriate clothing and was soon afterward given a coat as well.

Figuring this would be much like the day before in which she had to be escorted to various places, Lion followed all the way through the halls, and unlike yesterday led outside to where the buses had been. The announcement had said as much, but Lion still hadn't expected that they were actually leaving to elsewhere until she saw it for herself. They were able to do this without the outside world becoming privy to what happens in the institute?

Tentatively, and now with a sack in hand, Lion made her way into a bus picked at random. And a seat, as well; she had only hoped its current occupant wouldn't have minded any company.

"Excuse me," Lion said to grab his attention before sitting. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

Night had been a blur; his senses told him though, that even when he woke up, Yue, and Yuki for that matter, weren't there anymore. Where exactly did that leave him? Estranged from the man he'd thought of as a friend, a traitor to the people he was trapped here with, and now missing another of the people he'd been foolish enough to let himself care about. Much as he didn't want to admit it, he couldn't deny a twist of guilt; bad things always seemed to happen to the people he was around, the people he actually cared about.

He woke in his bed, with that familiar fuzzy, disconnected sort of feeling that kept him from remembering just how he'd gotten there from where he'd been last night. The announcement though, and the unfamiliar voice were enough to give him some idea of what was going on and what day it was. He dressed quickly in what they gave him, a black turtleneck, a hooded khaki-colored coat with fur trim, and some slate-grey pants. He brushed his hair carefully over his left eye and followed the soldiers out onto the busses. Odd, he thought, that they kept up the routine when so much else had changed, but he didn't argue, just went along as always with a barely-there smile on his face.

They handed him his lunch and some coupons and this time, a card that apparently had some sort of credit or currency on it. That was new and it was hard to keep from thinking of just how he'd like to spend it. He didn't have much time to ask his escort exactly how much twenty five dollars would buy him in say... various types of liquor, but he was sure he could figure that out on his own. It just couldn't come soon enough.

[Free!]

[idolism]

_{[Bitchfest with the roommate.]}

Aidou was not unaccustomed to being spirited back to his cell at the most inopportune times--mockery seemed to be a part of the Institute’s nature. And this time… this time was no different. As he woke to the sight of the whitewashed ceiling, he could still feel the fading echo of blood lust, and he was sure his eyes flared red before he smacked a hand over them, mostly out of irate disbelief. Damn it!

Screw this latest bastard and his ideals of sufficiency; the noble couldn’t care less what he wanted out of his zoo animals. What Aidou needed was to stay on track and keep himself strong, and last night was supposed to have been a simple chore meant to accomplish just that. Instead, though, it had turned into a disaster in the end. He had a grim suspicion that the girl had made him out, which made Aguilar’s good opinion and the coming day ahead in Doyleton very small in comparison. And it was a problem he didn’t need, not at all! He was supposed to be focused on actual goals like the basement, and the motives of this new military. But now--what? He had to worry about a victim of his identifying him as a vampire, too?

“I can’t believe this,” he snarled aloud, springing out of bed to beat his nurse-in-disguise at the door. The faster he got the field trip routine over with, the faster he could figure out his strategy. He didn’t complain about the stack of clothes presented to him--there had been worse hand-me-downs in his past.

Cutting the female off before she could get too far into the itinerary, he ushered her back outside with the bare minimum of compliance. “I know! I’m getting ready now!” Before another one came for Ippo, he would get the degrading rags on, which he did in a flurry, tossing articles of the uniform onto the bed. All this took no more than a minute or two, leaving Aidou impatient to get on with the rest of it. A part of it was thanks to the increase in energy a full stomach gave him, but his slaked thirst had come at a price. He wouldn’t be able to assess how much of a hassle this price was going to be until he was able to track down the girl again.

[ippo]

Ippo's sudden consciousness was every bit as shocking as Aidou's, albeit with a feeling of relief once he realized where he was. The last thing he remembered was his heart lodged in his throat as he directed the Doctor's attention to something in the dark corridor with them.

He rested his head on his pillow, thinking. Had it only been a dream? It seemed very likely. Chicken fingers, furries, savage cats, and a man known only as the Doctor... Yeah, it had to have been a dream, a really stress-fueled dream.

When his roommate suddenly snapped at no one in particular, the boxer sat up in bed and watched him head for the door as if he had forgotten something along the way back to his room. Apparently Aidou wanted to get a jump start on censuring the soldiers, which was fine with Ippo. He was too confused to be of any use. Instead, he just stared at the bedsheets in front of him, waiting for his guard to escort him to breakfast. That was when he saw his shirt was no longer stained with blood. Whatever fears he still clung to about last night dissipated.

"Here you are..." A female voice penetrated his focus and Ippo looked up to see a nurse--a nurse!--holding a bundle of clothes that she promptly deposited onto his bed. "Get dressed and I'll escort you out to the buses waiting outside."

"Ah--" But she left before Ippo could properly question her. Aidou didn't seem to be fighting the situation, so he could only assume this was normal on some level. Without getting out of bed, Ippo pawed through the selection of clothing he was given. The plainest shirt he could find had a giant logo for something called AC/DC, whatever that was. But Ippo was pleased to find a red hoodie to throw over it. He liked the color red, but now it evoked bittersweet memories. Title champions could wear red in the ring. Was he still champion back in the world?

Well, there was nothing he could do about it, stuck as he was. Taking off the shirt he had slept in, the boxer stilled when he noticed scabbing on his left side.

That was where the cat had sunk its teeth into him.

Ippo visibly shuddered before he frantically began pulling on his shirt, hoodie, and white cargo pants. White and red, together. It was the closest to a boxing ring as he was going to get nowadays.

"Uh-Uhmm, Aidou?" Ippo asked as he caught up with his roommate while they were taken elsewhere. Wh-Where are the buses going?" Apparently they would have money to use on where ever they were going. Maybe it was a field trip! Ohhh, that'd be fun actually!

[girlsandgadgets]

Though he awoke with a start, as though forcing himself from the grips of a nightmare, it took Edgar a moment to muster the energy to rise from the bed. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out all he was feeling long enough to listen to the morning announcements- he wasn't very successful. His body ached all over; his shirt was damp with sweat, leaving him longing for another shower. Any rest he might have found in the time between the end of night and dawn had already been exhausted. He couldn't remember hearing the intercom during the night- he shook his head, reasoning he'd passed out. There weren't words for the mixture of frustration and humiliation he'd faced.

... And would continue to face, apparently. It was time for the weekly field trip to Doyleton, which meant he was expected to don whatever shabby garments they'd found for him to wear and behave. He disliked being given orders, and doubly so after the previous night; however, he was in no condition to argue. He had to admit he was looking forward to some time alone, especially given the circumstances. If he looked as ill as he felt, it was a good day to keep to himself. It had been some time since anyone had seen him that undeniably sick, and he preferred to keep it that way.

Adding insult to injury was a new adornment to his hat. As Edgar made out of bed, he caught sight of the beret on the night stand: on the front, as though it had always been there, was one of the pins he'd spotted others bearing the day before. M-U. He thought he would vomit for a second, his stomach churning with an instant of fury as he eyed the piece. Whether he was truly moved to sickness from personal disgust or it was a reaction to night before was something he couldn't discern.

He wasn't given time to think about it, nor was he allowed to check on Gren- the morning escort arrived, knocking on the door impatiently. Edgar pulled on the clothes left for him as quickly as his body would allow: his movement was sluggish, his limbs working against him as he pulled on the jeans, his fingers fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. Though he wanted to leave the thick sweater behind, the guard insisted he wear it to keep out the chill in the cold weather. It seemed the perspiration lining his brow wasn't a clear enough indication that he was plenty warm.

Edgar took his provisions and slipped onto the bus without protest, thankful to find an empty seat near a window- it didn't open, but the view would serve as a decent distraction. The changes already in place were subtle: the morning announcements had said the additional orderlies would be traveling with them, implying they were little more than soldiers in disguise. Then the residents of Doyleton weren't to be made aware of the changes? That was... interesting.

He brushed the damp hair from his face, cursing himself for being unable to focus as well as he liked. Though it appeared they'd been given proper food for the trip, the nausea that coursed through him made him wonder if he'd ever eat again.

[Late, but free if anyone wants him]

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

England didn't know what had been moving in the darkness of the Sun Room, but part of him, not that he would ever admit it, was very glad that he had woken up before he'd had time to find out. It had sent a disturbing crawling sensation up his spine. His heart was still pounding when he blinked awake, staring at the ruthlessly white ceiling above him.

The announcement bore some listening to. He'd forgotten about the trip today. He wasn't exactly looking forward to it. The townspeople had looked at him as though he were an idiot last time, and it was also depressing to know that he'd been there well over a week by now. A week was a long time in politicas and world events. Who knew what he was missing.

...if he was missing anything. Time seemes rather disturbed within the Institute.

The t-shirt was back, the one with... ugh, America's flag plastered all over it. And protesting that he wasn't going to wear the sodding thing did nothing but earn him hard stares and perhaps they were part of the American military after all, if they got so worked up about it.

He slunk onto the bus, glad that he didn't immediately spot any of the other nations around, and found a seat near the back where he could hunch up and hide the obnoxious shirt. They really were trying to torture him weren't they? He opened the bagged breakfast and peered inside, pulling out the muffin to start nibbling at the edges of it.

[For America.]

[brb-burgers.livejournal.com]

Somehow he'd managed to miss his roommate once again, waking up to an announcement with a sort of bleary sleepiness. When had he fallen asleep? He didn't remember but he wasn't now and that's what mattered. Sitting up with his hair awry he glanced over to see the empty bed on the other side of the room-- and then someone's figure stepped into his field of vision.

"Oh, it's you," he drawled with a wry grin, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and planting his feet on the ground. The exchange this time was more strained amusement than outright abrasive and he was pleased to see that the selection of clothes today was immensely more casual than before. He'd asked what was the occasion as he got dressed, eye rolling with a faint smirk when he wasn't given much of an explanation aside from 'out'.

Initially he hadn't believed the claim of going out to be legit but when he was shown to a bus and given a baggie and a weird coupon thing he was a little less skeptical and more curious. Stepping onto the bus he made a b-line for the back because that was where all the cool kids sat and stopped abruptly short when he laid eyes on--

"Wow," incredulous and amused he couldn't help but grin from ear to ear to see England of all nations, with that shirt on. Really. Was he trying to make a statement? England's shirt had his name written all over it so he took the liberty of claiming the seat next to him. The flop down beside was animated enough to jostle the bus a bit. "Knew I'd run into you sooner or later..." though he was distracted, looking through his bag of breakfast.

[mateswithnobody.livejournal.com]

It had been a while since their last outing, though Donna was sure she'd had quite enough of the chipper little town due to other outings that hadn't been planned in the slightest. There had not been any more Night of the Living Dead attempts in a while, but she still could have cared less for playing the ring-around-the-loony-bin+town game. She'd even held off on using the ring for that reason alone. No purpose in hitting up a ghost town where she couldn't get a manicure on a midnight discount.

And speaking of discounts, the mention of getting hard cash had Donna perking up a bit. Only a bit. Her mood was quickly damped when a G.I.JANE came in bearing the usual, terrible attire for one of these field trips. This week's offense came in the form of a terribly itchy red hoodie and a pair of jeans that were so faded she was surprised they hadn't slipped off into oblivion. And just when she'd gotten used to having her own clothes back...

But there was nothing to be seen of her stuff in the closet, not even a trace of lingering fashion! "I'd best have my things back come nightfall..." she huffed under her breath as she grabbed the breakfast sack and slumped into the closest bus seat. Meanwhile the back of her mind repeated the only positive she could see in this trip: Mani-Pedi Mani-Pedi Mani-Pedi.

[anemptydecapo]

Venom didn't recall falling asleep last night. By all accounts, it should have worried him. Considering the night before last and his unexplainable disappearance, coupled with the incidents of other patients disappearing soon after taking too much rest, another bout of unconsciousness should have been the most alarming thing he had to face in the morning.

Truthfully? It was the furthest thing from his mind. After awaking and realizing the day, he couldn't care one iota for his own safety.

Today was the day they traveled to Doyleton.

The instant the information had cemented into his mind, the assassin was off the bed, feet touching the floor and, for once, feeling grounded in something other than work. Today wasn't going to be about work, not in the traditional sense. The people of Doyleton knew nothing about what was happening around them and would most likely never believe the words of an insane man preaching his perspective. Frustrating as it was, he knew better than to chase brainwashed dead ends. No, they wouldn't have information on the institute that he likely hadn't already heard. It didn't mean he wouldn't try eventually, but there was something they might know that was far more important than that.

By the time the escort had come with a change of clothes and a brown paper bag, Venom had already pulled his hair back as he had the week before (though it was relatively impossible to braid it in this new state. Pulled back would just have to do) and reclaimed two items from his drawer: one of which being a photograph of a blind man Alkaid had found almost two weeks ago. It hadn't taken long after that to get dressed, pull the long scarf he'd been given around his scarred neck, and head to the buses.

As crowded as the vehicle was at this point, he still found an empty seat and proceeded to slide on the second item he'd taken with him: a pair of sunglasses.

He didn't have room to socialize with his fellow patients today. This was to be no one's business but his own.

[Closed.]