Day 58: Sun Room (Fourth Shift)

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Peter's lunch meeting with Tear had gone far better than he could have even expected. It was a good thing that he wasn't the sort of person who judged by age, seeing how the girl had proved herself to be very capable despite the fact that she was only a teenager. Not that Peter would ever admit it out loud, but Tear was a lot more mature than his own niece. He could only assume that Tear's circumstances had forced that onto her, though, which was the downside to the whole thing.

Or maybe it had something to do with her being a healer. She'd probably seen a lot of horrific things in her life already, things that some other people would never experience. Then again, Claire had seen her own body mutilated, so personality might have something to do with it too.

Either way, they had a basic plan. He was going to try and look into safe areas while Tear was going to work on their alliance with Search and Rescue. He wasn't too worried about the latter, but the former might be a pipe dream. Seeing how he had no interest in playing with beads and glitter, Peter chose to remain in the Sun Room.

It didn't take him long to draft up a message with his question, and once he'd posted it up (covering a few other replies in the process, but at the end of the day the board was low on real estate) he went ahead and found himself a seat. This way he could keep a careful eye on the replies that he got.

While he had already agreed to meet with Max tonight, Peter realized that the earliest this paramedic group could get going was the following night anyway. That was something to aim for, at least. Even if it was just him and Tear taking care of things at first, that was a start.

[For Haruno Sakura.]

Comments

[dualistic]

Never would Harvey have expected to reveal that much to someone who he'd only met once before. Badd's own anger and slipping morals had given him the perfect reason to let loose with it, and maybe he'd needed it. He almost, almost felt better after getting that off his chest. It wasn't something he got the chance to do very often. It had been the right place, the right time, and Badd had said the right things to make it happen.

Not that it changed much, though. Sure, he'd been able to speak his mind for once, but that didn't bring Jones back; it didn't wipe the memories of what Peter had done from his mind. None of that was Harvey's responsibility, but being a helpless witness meant that he had a burden to bear nonetheless.

He hadn't missed the fact that none of the other members of their ragtag group had made any attempt at contacting him, whether on the bulletin or in person. Peter had made his announcement about Jones and that was that. Harvey knew that there wasn't much for them to discuss, and yet this avoidance thing was annoying on its own. They hadn't even handle the "what next?" question, but maybe that was too much to expect for now.

What it meant was that he had nothing planned for the night, which was... new, after all that he'd done. Maybe it was time for another night spent doing nothing, although he hadn't handled that very well before. Grell was always an option, but did he have it in him to deal with the man for a whole night?

He realized he didn't have much time to decide and yet he didn't have the energy to sort it all out. Instead, he took a seat on one of the couches in the Sun Room and eyed the bulletin board, trying to figure out what to do. At least he'd given up on taking a nap; it was a lost cause by now.

[For Ruby.]

[thatdemonbitch.livejournal.com]

It was more or less a given that until Ruby and Sam figured out what to do about their little Dean problem that she'd be benchwarming as far as who she sought out and what she said went. There was no way in hell she was going to take a stab and risk screwing it up. No, she'd let Sam deal with his brother for now, and she? Well, she'd lay low. Belly to the ground low.

So, when she wandered back into the sun room, she let her gaze dart around briefly, scoping it out. No signs of them yet. Should be safe for her to hang around, find something to do that didn't involve the menial task of arts and crafts.

When she spotted Harvey seated comfortably on one of the couches, a broad, catlike smirk worked its way over her lips and she headed over, standing behind him with her arms crossed for a moment before she made her presence known, following his gaze over to the bulletin board and studying it as she determined if it was what he was looking at -- it was, of course. Nothing much else in the room of interest.

"What do you think? Anything interesting, or am I better off sticking to the funny papers?" So, she was benched from the main game. That didn't mean she couldn't play ball for sport on the side. Harvey was always good for an inning.

[damned-soldiers.livejournal.com]

The first meeting of what might become many more had gone well enough. The soldier had been lucky enough to be approached by someone who was both polite and kind. She had been expecting someone confrontational, and honestly, she couldn't have blamed anyone for displaying that kind of behavior.

Even if it wasn't tolerated, frustration from the patients was only to be expected with how they were treated.

Those were thoughts that were never voiced out loud, however. As the shift changed, the soldier chose to move out of the cafeteria and into the Sun Room. The Arts and Crafts room was another option, yes, but she suspected that more people would be interested in talking here. She didn't want to distract anyone from their crafts and projects.

It was kind of laughable, the idea of soldiers in training making friendship bracelets. But Aguilar had decided to follow a previously existing pattern. There was nothing wrong with that.

The soldier seated herself at one of the couches, having grown tired of standing. She adjusted her hat and then let her hands rest in her lap.

[Free; check here (http://damned-lounge.livejournal.com/2567864.html) for more details.]

[anemptydecapo]

That conversation had not been the most comforting, but perhaps that was to be expected. When you went to a vampire to confess to a murder, you got what you paid for. In the very least, the Guild Head found himself again willing to stand and wipe any amount of expression from his face. After what had just happened, that must have accounted for something. Even if there was still that now horrible feeling of being followed...

No. He had to regain control over himself. He'd already shown too much emotion by the end of that last shift and it wasn't going to continue now. There was too much to focus on without guilt weighing all of his thoughts down. Ms. Littleton's spirit could follow him as much as she'd like, but that wasn't going to impede his progress.

Entering the Sun Room once again proved a mostly empty room, aside from three other patients. One of which... The intercom had mentioned a solider, hadn't they? One willing to speak to the patients?

There were no formalities or polite introductions. The assassin only paused before the woman and stared down hard at her. "What was it they were attempting to test last night?"

[unit67.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1156571.html)]

Lily bypassed the arts and crafts room, walking to the sun room in a haunted daze. She'd known that the others were different, that they didn't have collars and their minds seemed to belong to them entirely, but the image of so many bare, unscarred backs made her feel not just ashamed and exposed, but covered with something that no amount of water could wash away.

It'll never wash off, the voice whispered. Wash it off and there will be more. There will always be more. Her hands were pale and clean, contrary to what the voice suggested, but although she knew it was only water, the warm droplets that dripped onto her shoulders made her twitch. She wanted to see the cats. She didn't want to see the cats. She wanted to see the cats.

And the cats were there, most asleep but some wandering aimlessly as if one of the people who occasionally stopped in to use the bulletin might offer a bit of affection. Lily noted three orange tabbies, but she tried to find the familiar markings of the one Rose had placed in her arms yesterday. The one that had made that sound...what was it? Purring, Mikado had said. When she found it, asleep at the foot of the couch, she crouched down in front of it and reached to pet it, but her fingers froze a few inches away. Say hi, right? Rose had told her to say hi.

"Hi," she whispered. The cat yawned and rolled onto its back, stretching four white-tipped paws towards the ceiling. So trusting. So trusting. Lily looked up, scanning the room, but Rose was nowhere to be found...nor were Mikado or Sora. If the voice wanted her to hurt it, if it didn't give her a choice, who would stop her when she couldn't stop herself?

Why do you fight what you are?

Lily pushed herself away, falling back a foot and landing neatly with her hands behind her. The cat tilted its head, confused, and rolled onto its feet to take a few steps closer before curling up, making that warm, comforting sound as it looked at her with greenish-orange eyes. Purring. It trusted her. She wanted to trust herself too.

[um...er....hi brother!]

[savagestray.livejournal.com]

The day had been a series of disappointments and frustrations that was very nearly worse than what Badou was capable of inflicting on them in a single mission. While he kept expecting doctors to come flouncing in to check on their experiments or to be sent to some life-threatening trial or another, nothing happened. Nothing but standing for so long he felt like punching someone- the guard was first on the list if it came to that- and watching people eat mushy pink slop.

He trudged into the sunny open room, once again not certain he trusted the light that filtered in through the windows to be true sunlight or something artificial. Either way, he skirted the room, glancing for any sign of Badou or the others. It wasn't long before his gaze fell on the blonde girl, toying with a cat on the other side of the room. The cut of her hair, he could swear it was familiar, impossible as it seemed. Static cut through his brain, but he refused to acknowledge it; refused to give this apparition her name.

All the same, he couldn't stop watching. The way she moved, the way she jumped away and landed with such trained and easy grace-

He took a few steps forward, not satisfied until he confirmed it with his own eyes, even if the laughter mocked him with each clack of his boot on tile. It was insane to even consider it, he knew that perfectly well, but nothing would persuade him otherwise.

Heine neared the couch, but once he caught sight of her face, he took a few shaky steps back. Even her face-

"What the hell is your game?" he growled under his breath at the laughter that only he could hear. No answer. Was he hallucinating? Dreaming? He had to be dreaming. It made sense if he was dreaming. Though he only ever dreamed about one thing. One person.

He was already in an asylum, he reasoned, a half-there smirk forming while his fevered mind tried to understand what it was seeing. Maybe he really was crazy. Maybe he'd lost it. Maybe he was somewhere else entirely while that black dog was wreaking havoc.

"Lily?" the words finally came out before he could stop them. If the girl didn't look up, he was just having some kind of delusion, some psychotic episode or something. But if she did? What then? Do you think it matters? You can't change the past. She'll despise you, hate you for that and even if she doesn't, you won't be able to stop hating yourself, Master. Pathetic...

[tightsofmight]

[Timeskipping from shower times to hang with Grell...]

He left the shower with mixed feelings. Enough said about that.

This time around Peter did not have the luxury of choosing which room to hide out in. The Sun Room was the only option. Good thing that it was the only place Peter wanted to be that wasn't his own room. Or possibly the library. He didn't have the energy to muster up any enthusiasm for finger paints or board games or snow angels. The most he did was pen a few more notes on the bulletin and claim a couch for his own again.

Badou was alive. About the only good news of the day. Even so the mood was morose as he sprawled over the couch in its entirety, staring blankly at the ceiling. Death was cheaper than dirt in this place, apparently. It wasn't the first time someone had rebounded. They had even made a big magical party of it a couple weeks back, knocking off half the population only to yank them back into life the next morning. Badou was a good guy, good sense of humour. Terrible person to lose, but a better one to regain.

Yet as his gaze tilted to the side and zeroed in on Badou's notice, he couldn't help trying to will the pen scratches into Indy's cursive instead.

[deadlyjuliet.livejournal.com]

[oh god, i am just now getting into 4th shift. /screams ]

Gren, Gren, Gren. Just like all mortals, prone to dwelling, unhappiness and melancholy, Gren was saddened by his sudden dearth of friends. Well, Grell would be his friend - for now at least. If fortune smiled upon him, then he would gladly turn his back on anyone here in an instant. With the exception of Sylar, Dexter and maybe Harvey now, Grell held no love for most of the Institute. Even with so many people leaving, and Claire apparently being dead (the man who killed her was going to suffer horribly for that - torture, long and drawn out, the sort of death Grell thought the most ugly - was waiting for him) Grell was doing rather well.

Save for one thing.

You're one of them now. Even if you were to leave the hospital, how could we ever allow trash like you back into Headquarters?

William's voice. Madam Red's cries of pain, screams of betrayal. They were haunting him and getting louder as the day progressed. It was going to drive him crazy if these things continued; especially since he had no idea if they were real or not.

--rot and decay here, buried in the gr--

"Oh, shut it!" he hissed, turning toward the source of the disembodied voice. Rather than see the cold visage of his supervisor, his eyes landed upon a prone figure upon a sofa. The figure of one so-called "Kenny" - the newly discovered bipolar cross-dressing cannibal.
Grell turned toward him and narrowed his eyes. He seemed...distressed. Grell smirked. What a find.

"Don't we look glum."

[ninelivesonce]

Taura was worried.  Only Asuka had answered her note so far -- she'd seen Hijikata, but he hadn't answered.  The only other one around hadn't signed his/her/it's name, though the handwriting was familiar.  

She paced the room.  It burned valuable calories, but it also burnt off stress, and as long as she stayed away from the doors and made no sudden changes in trajectory, they let her roam.  Each pass brought her by the bulletin again.   Maybe it was time to abandon the club altogether; but it had a long and well-intentioned history -- hah! -- and it felt like giving up.  Push too hard, though, and if Okita was just oversleeping, she could lose the respect of all of them.

She'd been aiming for a middle ground.  Bring her little team along without committing anyone to anything, and avoid the I'll luck that had plagued the club.  They had to investigate the medical wing tonight.  She knew it, she just hadn't wanted to admit she did.  Well, waiting a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.  Lunch had just ended, and there were several hours before dinner.

[free] 

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

_{[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1156571.html?thread=79711963#t79711963) and for Kurogane and Fai!]}

Speaking of soldiers, there was the same woman from lunch sitting in the middle of the Sun Room...

Tsubaki couldn't help letting her gaze linger on her as she spoke to one of the other prisoners, but quickly enough she resumed her search for another set of familiar faces. This was starting to be more than just a curiosity, but a concern--where were they? There were so many people disappearing everyday... Tsubaki couldn't let herself follow that possibility too far, however. Not without proof. She had enough fears circling her head thanks to the desert mission.

Peeking into the Arts and Crafts room, where adults were supposed to be for the shift, told her neither Kurogane nor Fai was in there either. They had to be somewhere! They hadn't made it this far for something to happen now. Not when Sakura was already gone, and everything had been made so confusing by the military takeover.

Parking herself against the wall outside the Arts and Crafts room door, Tsubaki kept her eyes on the Sun Room's entrance.

[contentincloset.livejournal.com]

For what little luck he'd had in finding those he was looking for, finding Tsubaki standing against the wall to the next area seemed almost too good to be true. Chances were that it was - Tsubaki seemed to be positioned with purpose. She could just as easily have been looking for someone other than himself.

"You gunna stand there the whole time?" he asked her calmly as he came up. With a look over his shoulder at the soldiers, he came to a stop himself, wondering why it was the soldiers were giving them this kind of freedom. The nurses had treated them more like cattle than anything else. Now it nearly felt like he could go where he pleased, within certain boundaries.

[fourstonewalls]

Investigating this place had a habit of turning into consoling victims of its violence; Lana suspected she'd get no pity for her frustration, but perhaps some sympathy, from Javert. After all, he spent a great deal of time publicly organizing rescue parties in the hopes of gleaning more information.

Had "Jane" come here without her memory in the first place? Lana hadn't seen where she'd walked from; it could have been the medical wing rather than the patient blocks. The lack of response didn't tell her anything other than the fact that Jane was unable or unwilling to reply to the question.

The small saving grace was that Ema had missed the so-called experiment. Given the option, Lana wasn't sure whether or not she'd be foolhardy enough to take it, but worrying would all but drive her to it. Likely not; Ema would try to experiment on the drugs, not with them, and while the results might be just as dangerous, at least it showed the beginnings of caution.

[Monsieur L'Inspecteur]

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

The earlier discussion with Lamperouge had been most enlightening--certainly he had had no choice in the matter of his experimentation, whereas Lana Skye and her travel companions last night evidently had.

Nevertheless, it seemed as if Skye herself had had the common sense to avoid taking the drugs, though he couldn't say the same for whoever it was she'd traveled with. He knew the feeling. If it hadn't been for the fact that Threepwood was one of the few patients who was consistently willing to work for Search and Rescue...

No matter. Lana Skye was straightforward enough to locate, and Javert wasted no time in approaching her, inclining his head slightly. "Mlle. Skye."

[gald_digger]

[from here]

After leaving the showers, the first thing Anise did was check the bulletin board. It looked like there were a few messages for her. Tear had received her little gift bag, which was nice to see. Claude left a message, too... It looked like they weren't going back to the basement after all.

Anise was a little relieved to see that, actually. If she and her friends had to do last night's trials again in their current state, they might not have made it out alive. They had to assume the next trials would be at least equally dangerous, so they couldn't attempt them unless they were all at their very best.

Now Anise didn't know what she was going to do tonight, though. If Claude was taking it easy, he probably wouldn't mind if she kept him company (unless he was still flustered over her earlier note - which would honestly just make it more fun). Although... since Anise wasn't in too bad shape, maybe she could find something productive to do with herself. She didn't have any ideas at the moment, but maybe she'd come up with something before nightfall.

In the meantime, it was best to conserve her strength, so the girl plopped herself down on a big, comfy chair, pulling her feet up onto the seat with her. Since her wet hair was just laying flat, and she didn't have much to occupy herself with at the moment, Anise decided to try putting it into twin braids. She couldn't have her usual high, fluffy pigtails with those hats they had to wear, anyway. Maybe it'd be fun to try something new.

Humming a little to herself, she separated her hair into sections and began to weave them together.

[for Badd]

[tasteoftruth.livejournal.com]

Byrne was going to dock his metaphorical pay for not mentioning the hallucinations earlier, Badd could sense it coming. Of course Badd had every reason to hold back on the less important stressful news, but Byrne wasn't much for priorities. Badd would tag him something on the bulletin and explain in full later. It was a small problem and the stuff had to wear off fairly soon. As long as Badd could walk and swing a paper cutter with some measure of accuracy, the rest of his problems were incidental.

Bereft of anything better to do, Badd went to the Sun Room. Most of Aguilar-enforced day was utterly banal. Either you were playing with toys and crayons or you sat around and stared at the ceiling until you were driven to start talking to your fellow prisoners out of boredom. It felt like a cross between jail and a particularly aggressive assisted living facility. Badd's eyes aimlessly roved over the crowd of pointless, identically dressed prisoners until he fixated on something impossible.

Curled up in one of the armchairs was a little girl braiding her dark hair. Younger than Kay, though Kay rarely seemed her age, and not as bony, but the hair was enough for a small connection between them. Badd stopped in his wanderings and stared at her, his already battered mind bewildered by the appearance of such an innocent looking scene in the middle of such a horror show.

She was humming. Humming. If the rest of the scene hadn't remained the same, Badd would wonder if he was hallucinating again.

[gargantuanlaugh.livejournal.com]

Talking with Lana was refreshing in its own way, even if she didn't altogether defend him or even sound friendly most of the time. She was still the person he respected most in this place, and that wasn't likely to change. Still, he had gotten a slightly threatening feeling from her and he wasn't sure what to make of that. It wasn't like Lana. She didn't threaten. She made promises and stuck to them. She was honest, as long as she wasn't having her arm twisted with respect to her little sister, and that was usually done by himself. So it was odd today, but maybe it was just this growing feeling of apprehension setting in. Something bad was going to happen soon, the police dog in him could smell it.

Well, Gant was determined to be the one to bring down some of that badness, and that was totally not an intentional pun on his part. Gant moved to a far corner of the Sun Room, planning to wait out for Niikura where he could also keep an eye on the door and watch for when Badd entered. He doubted the balding detective was up for gluing sparkles on construction paper like some of the other younger patients might be, so it was logical he would come here. Baddo didn't have free-rein of movement, last time Gant checked.

Finding the perfect spot, Gant sat himself down a couch and crossed his arms. He wasn't smiling, which was pretty rare for him on a normal day. This way, no one was likely to approach him. Not unless they were Shou or had a death wish.

[oneman-onekill.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1155509.html?thread=79744693#t79744693)]

Niikura paused a second before the entrance to the Sun Room to take a deep breath and clear his head. No thinking about Shiina or Mike or anyone else at all; just...focus on the matter at hand: Gant and whatever he felt like spouting today. And then he could go eat dinner and maybe even talk to Edward for the first time in forever. Oh fun.

With a little nod to himself, the teen turned and sauntered into the Sun Room at his usual casual pace, hands shoved deep into his pants pockets. He glanced around languidly, by all appearances merely looking for a--ah, there he was. Niikura's face broke into a smile that might almost be welcoming were it not for the cool disregard in his eyes.

"Hey there, Gant." He plopped down into the seat directly across from the older man and crossed his arms, mirroring the other. "Gonna cut to the chase?"

[monkeyboy]

[Shift split after shower]

After his shower and a chat with a boy named Brainiac, Goku was stopped and told to finish changing before he tried to leave the locker rooms again. The guards were clearly not threatened by his shouting, so he inevitably skulked back to the forest of lockers and took out his uniform that that someone had picked up off the floor for him. Folded neatly ina little cubby or not, Goku hated the thing with a fiery passion. It was just too form-fitting! What was wrong with a little wiggle room? That way if you needed to step into a random fight, you didn't have to pop all your seams first before getting into the action!

The last thing he put on was his beret which never wanted to stay on his big head correctly. It was a fight that lasted the entire walk back to the Sun Room where he checked the bulletin and found a curious message he didn't quite understand. The answer he received wasn't what he wanted, either. His friend, one of the first people he had met here, was dead. Goku, in all his years of fighting, had never known someone to die. It was hard to believe, actually, as if it was this separation between him and--No, Goku just couldn't comprehend how he felt. There weren't words for it, only a terrible feeling. It was a numb pain that made him shut down. With shaky fingers, he wrote one last question on the board, but then tore it off and stormed away.

His guards came toward him, wary of his sudden spurt of energy, but Goku didn't let them stop him. "Go away!" He shouted. "Just leave me alone!" He jumped up onto the nearest couch and sat there, racked with a restless energy he didn't know what to do with. The two men assigned to him gave him space and retreated behind him to give him space to vent. It was a violent display of emotion as Goku twisted his arms, his wrists, his legs, and finally snatched a pillow to his chest to abuse instead. It fit snuggly against his small body as he cradled his chin on top of the seam and moaned to himself.

[Come abuse him more, Spock!]

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

With the details concerning his meeting with Dr. McCoy settled, Spock could turn his attention to other matters. A quick glance through the bulletin board's notes revealed some sort of drug trial had been conducted the previous night. Furthermore, he had yet to receive any word regarding Jim or Nyota's whereabouts. While he had no reason to believe those two things were connected, Spock couldn't entirely rule out the possibility, either.

At least neither of them appeared on the tentative list of causalities he'd gleaned from the bulletin board. There was one set of notes that caught Spock's attention, however. He could recognize the handwriting of the individual who claimed to have killed a certain woman within the institute. From what Spock understood, the incident hadn't been intentional, and was linked to the experiments carried out last night -- at least, that was what Venom claimed. Not that Spock necessarily disbelieved him, but he had no way to verify that was truly the case.

After turning away from the board, Spock took a moment to look across the room of captives. No sign of any of the other Enterprise crew. The most difficult part of Spock's brief absence was the fact he had a large blank space in his memory that would have contained clues to their status under normal circumstances.

There was one patient who caught his attention, though. Goku was sitting on one of the couches, a pillow clutched to his chest. He appeared distraught. Unsure of what would sour the boy's unrealistically optimistic attitude, the Vulcan approached him.

"Goku," he said in way of greeting.

[lovecraftcomplex]

[from here]

The problem with showering quickly was that now she was back in the solarium, the bulletin board gently mocking her linguistic failings. Gamzee hadn't replied, either; she'd been under the impression that trolling trolls was a trivial task. They pestered her often enough with unsolicited nonsense. Now that she had reason to believe their irrational meanderings were the product of weak minds reacting to a fundamentally deranged situation, she was mildly curious.

They knew things she didn't, at some ostensible points along their timeline. She still wasn't sure if this whole episode was a necessary part of the journey, or a complete breakdown in game structure.

Lily had found one of the cats -- possibly the same one -- and was happily ensconced in furry communion. Rose left her to it, and went over to one of the couches. She pulled out her notebook and started jotting down words. Words that in no way resembled wizard fanfiction, for the record. Not at all a story in which some cross between Harry Potter and John assaulted an armed compound full of evil wizards, only to be met from within by their intended rescuee, who had gained control of the citadel some time before, and was planning nefarious deeds...

[Free!]

[tender-cruelty.livejournal.com]

Things were happening. Badou returned (and he was desperately trying to ignore the curl of relief at that while Hallelujah snickered in the background and made snide comments until Allelujah reminded him that actually, they were the same person so really, Badou was his girlfriend too), these trials and tests and missions. They'd really stepped up a gear and he still couldn't decide whether he liked it more or less than the previous regime.

He hated them both of course, but he supposed that at least this one was honest. Maybe honest. He'd been involved with Celestial Being for long enough that plans on top of plans were quite normal and he wouldn't put it past the soldiers in charge to have another ulterior motive.

He didn't particularly care for arts and crafts, not when he remembered how much Badou liked glitter, so the Sun Room seemed a safer bet. He settled on a couch comfortably, trying to keep track of a few overheard conversations at once.

[Daemon]

[thesadist]

Daemon had a lot to think about, but he wasn't all that inclined to brood while they still had their freedom to roam. That could be reserved until dinner, or after, when they were left to their own devices in their rooms until darkness fell. He hoped he had a roommate; he wondered what had happened to the last one he'd had?

Stepping into the Sunroom, he glanced around, spotting more unfamiliar faces in the room. There was one man on a sofa not too far away who did look vaguely familiar, however, although Daemon was fairly certain they'd never spoken. Perhaps he'd been here all this time, which was impressive. Not many others seemed to have survived that length of time. Whether that was a good thing or not, Daemon still wasn't sure.

Strolling casually over to the sofa, hands tucked idly in his robe's deep pockets, he shot Allelujah a curious look. "Mind some company?" he asked, not wanting to intrude if the other man was waiting for someone.

[survives]

Arts and crafts... Really not her thing. She was perfectly content leaving that kind of thing to other people, namely the ones who thought making stupid statues of her was a good idea. Who even needed that kind of thing? Sure, it was nice when art was pretty, but all of the artists she'd ever met had only made some of the weirdest things she'd seen in her life.

Hence why the Sun Room was the only place Leanne could have possibly wanted to go to just then. Besides, there was one thing about it that interested her more than anything in the Arts and Crafts room. This was her chance to check out the bulletin board she'd been told about, to see just what she could find in it. And maybe get some answers herself.

Quickly, she scanned the notes on the board, none in particular grabbing her attention. Even so, she still took in as much as she could, as determined as she was to find out as much as absolutely possible. Once she was satisfied with how much she'd read, she moved backwards, finding a seat on a nearby couch.

If nothing else, she could at least keep an eye on the board from there.

[free to whoever wants to bug a newbie!]

[see-my-back.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1156571.html?thread=79752411#t79752411)]

By the time she got to the Sun Room, most of the people had already meandered into groups or pairs to talk or plot or do whatever it was people did here during the day. Sakura was content to glance over the bulletin, wondering if she should be the one to let Sai's friends know he was no longer here or if it was best left unsaid. It still felt too raw to bring up so easily and even if that was weakness on her part, so be it.

She took a seat near the board, though someone had already gotten one and it did mean being in conversation range. Sakura gave a casual nod as she sat, then started shuffling through her notes.

[gah, sorry i'm late!]

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

While Peter had seen a few girls with pink hair wandering around the place before, he was pretty sure that this was the first time that one of them had come to sit near him. The girl looked to be around Tear's age and the quiet nod that she offered meant that she might be similar in demeanor as well.

Seeing how well things had gone with the other teenager, though, maybe this was something he shouldn't ignore so quickly. He didn't need to give all of his attention to the board, after all, so why not at least see what she was doing with all of those papers?

"What are you up to?" he asked. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking." It wasn't the smoothest way to start up a conversation, but he figured it'd be made clear pretty quickly if the girl wanted to talk or not. "Sorry, the name's Peter. I was just curious."

[forgot-it-all.livejournal.com]

[late as hell from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1155509.html?thread=79812533#t79812533) for Sechs!]

After a quick shower, Ritsuka headed back to the Sun Room to have a lie down. The hallucinations were getting worse and he kept having flashes of something he didn't understand. He thought it was just because he was tired, but something about the voice he heard and the sudden panic that welled up then died away was familiar. Was he remembering something from his forgotten past? Or was it something else entirely?

There was no way to know really and as long as Ritsuka was awake, he knew those spiders and moving shadows that lurked at the corners of his vision were going to haunt him. It'd be better if he closed his eyes and let the familiar dark take him for a bit. There weren't many couches open anymore though so Ritsuka found a chair and eased himself into it. Resting his head on the table in front of him, he looked at the bulletin off in the distance. At first it looked normal, but after a moment or two shadows began to move behind it and then came the legs of a giant spider.

Even knowing that such a thing was impossible, the instinctual fear rose up in him and he had to turn his face away. Hands covered his ears from the sounds of someone screaming and yet the sound came through anyway. Was it in his head? Were these memories? Or was it something else? Was it those drugs he took last night...? He was going to get sick if this kept up, he realized and, as the sounds trailed off, he lowered his hands and sighed, keeping his eyes closed.

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

Just as his morning had started with a sickening episode of retching and barely repressed trauma, the rest of the day had followed suit in the same theme of both physical and mental anguish for Sechs.

His meeting with General Berg was far from pleasant, and it left Sechs with scant answers about the institute. To hear that Alita was "integrated into society" as "Yoko" bothered Sechs to no end. If what the Officer told him was true, then Sechs had been searching the institute for his Original in vain all this time. To only get hints about the military's intentions with their prisoners vexed Sechs as well. The battle android hated being on such uneven ground with his enemies, especially if he and others were suffering beneath such tyrants...

...Like Aigis, as Sechs learned recently over lunch. She had lost everyone she knew from her home, and her suffering over that loss was powerfully evident. To see Aigis tormented all in the name of the military's secretive project infuriated Sechs... Yet he couldn't do anything about it, but just be there for his ally. He hoped what he did for Aigis was enough; he wasn't very good with the whole comforting others thing...

Then there was the concern over the horror of the nighttime visit to the infirmary... Sechs' arm seemed to have gone completely back to normal by lunch, but as the sun began its slow but inevitable decent, Sechs could feel a hint of numbness crawl over his arm, and a darker tinge that seemed to faintly dye the skin of his fingers. It could have just been the trauma and the growing shadows of the evening that was leaving Sechs with such physical impressions, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that the drug he ingested the night before was still in his body...

Along with his anxiety over his organic body's health, Sechs was growing all the more antsy to find Ritsuka. He would likely have known more about what happened after Sechs blacked out. There was also the chance that Ritsuka may have taken some of the military's medicine himself, and if he did, what could have happened to him? Having only just met Ritsuka the night before in the dark, the kid's cat ears and tail were the best traits that Sechs could recall, but during the day Ritsuka would have lost those unique features. Plus with how short that kid was, Sechs likely could have missed him amongst the patient population -- at least he hoped that was the case.

As the day drew to a close, Sechs wondered if Ritsuka was even still alive and well in the first place. Yet when Sechs was doing his usual agitated pace about the darkening Sun Room, he spotted a small figure curled up on a chair, his hands gripping over his face as though hiding from some horrible nightmare. When the youth dropped his hands, Sechs thought he might have recognized the patient's face and dark hair. It was only when the Replica got closer to the boy was he able to see that the non-feline stranger was definitely Ritsuka.

That discovery brought on a small rush of relief over Sechs' inner tension, and he approached the kid with a face lightly softened with concern. "Hey! Ritsuka!" Sechs said as he stopped to stand beside the chair over Ritsuka, "You alright? Nothing happened to ya last night, right...?" he asked, his voice low and hesitant.

[purgatio]

[continuing the gay from here]

The room was more crowded than he would have liked but it was enough, he supposed. Albedo would be content with what was given, for once. It was enough to try, nothing more, and he would move from there.

The boy cut a path to a corner of the room, then curled on a sofa obstinately. It might have been apparent to his sibling. That Albedo would have otherwise linked hands with his brother and pulled him through the room. Instead, Albedo glared sullenly at the residents, waiting for his brother to situate himself.

[falseblack]

Red tinged the skin along his cheeks as they redressed and assembled themselves in the Sun Room. Although a more stable Nigredo might have noticed the lack of direct contact from his sibling, this one felt entirely too flustered to notice otherwise. That was, again, the oddest and most awkward wash to ever grace his existence, though it was nice to feel properly clean.

Maybe. He wasn't sure if the sheepish sensations were worth the hygiene.

The boy finally composed himself long enough to settle into a seat beside Albedo, glancing one way to assess the other's condition. He seemed grumpy, which came as no surprise. "What did you want to try?" Nigredo asked, voicing to distract.