Day 59: Sun Room (4th Shift)

[contentincloset.livejournal.com]

After an intercom broadcast like that, Kurogane felt somewhat better about the little information he'd gotten from Harrington the previous night. The man only sounded competent when he needed to but was an idiot otherwise. Unfortunately that was furthered proof of the General not employing the brightest of staff members, making another option for information closed to them.

Kurogane was again some steps ahead of his escort when he reached the Sun Room and ignored the soldier further as the ninja headed to look over the bulletin. Last time he'd missed something, and he wasn't about to have that happen a second time. With some searching he located Tsubaki's messages to others he didn't know but found nothing either written by the magician or addressed to him. That being the case, he left the board without any of his own writing and sought out a chair over a couch. If he didn't leave open a space by him, he had a better chance of being left alone. Or so he believed.

[free bird! bear]

Comments

[lovecraftcomplex]

Rose had successfully evaded lunch by virtue of claiming an urgent need for the bathroom, and evoking the mysterious feminine complaints of a thirteen-year-old (who did not, as it happened, know such things except from alarming pamphlets and used them only as fuel for creative flamewarring and, today, unpleasant group activities).

These nonexistent cavellations ceased with the changing of the shifts, and Rose popped her head back out into the sun room. It looked like she was only the second person to emerge, and so she claimed a seat of honor atop her earlier creation and waited for the rest of them to arrive.

Ilia she knew, and Rapunzel would either have unfathomably long hair or a buzz cut for ironic purposes, either of which would be fairly obvious. At least on
a girl; they had enough wannabe shounen-ai and bishounen heroes here to support a legion of hairstylists.

[mission discussion group!]

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

The voice over the intercom, Harrington’s, continued to raise questions for Tsubaki. What had happened last night, exactly? Harrington was, or had been, the one collecting information on the traitor--possibly traitors. It didn’t seem safe to just blurt the question out on the bulletin board without heavily coding it. But even then, the military had to know all the tricks in the book and were watching for messages like that. People who had intimate information couldn’t volunteer without fear of people like Aguilar picking up the trail.

Sort of like her and Rapunzel.

Where the mission meeting was concerned, how much was too much? Sharing the full story of their desert trek was risky considering they were essentially trying to hold a private meeting surrounded by the very people they were trying to conceal things from. But Ilia and Rose couldn’t have had an easy assignment, either--they’d admitted as much. Despite herself, Tsubaki was curious to know just what was happening on these missions, even though she knew the assignments themselves were likely all gruelling in their own ways. Had anyone else seen the bulletin exchanges and thought to join in? She wouldn’t have said no to a larger number of people sharing their stories. Who knew how many missions were going on during any one night and if they kept happening the numbers were going to multiply rapidly… At the moment, though, it seemed like the night Tsubaki and Rapunzel had been hand selected was one of the first nights assignments had been handed out, if not the first.

Unsurprisingly, Tsubaki was eager to get to the Sun Room, but once there she had to stop to look around uncertainly. The problem now was knowing who she was looking for: she hadn’t even thought to give a description of herself, and she wasn’t sure what the other team looked like, aside from Rose being in her early to mid-teens. Silly!

[vitale.livejournal.com]

Two good shifts out of three so far wasn't bad, really. Speaking to Claire had put her in a good mood ... then speaking to Edward made her sad ... then speaking to Rose made her feel better. So, needless to say, she was in a pretty contented mood.

For now, anyway. Who knew what was going to happen in the span of time between now and nightfall. Anything, really.

Bella sat herself down on a couch, looking around the empty room. There was another patient there, but so far ... that was it. She wondered if there were any more people in the games room. Honestly, she was not in the mood for games; all she wanted to do was relax until nightfall and then ... see what happened with Edward. She was still ... worried. Scared. He said he wasn't going to leave her, but he had said that before and left her anyway -

Bella shook her head. No. He said he wasn't, and I believe him.

Sighing, the teenager lifted a pillow and pressed it against her face, leaning back against the couch with a groan. Perhaps it was the hunger getting to her. She honestly didn't know.

[anemptydecapo]

[yo what up bellaellaella]

The day was almost over by now. In between his inability to wake until the second shift and the strange conversations that took place afterword, the very notion that the day was coming to a close sounded ridiculous. His mind continued to wrongfully tell him that it was still morning, like that of an irresponsible college student's. You won't fall asleep until at least 7am, said the pulses of energy running behind his eyes. The assassin took to rubbing at his eyelids with the palms of his hands as he entered the Sun Room, suddenly far too used to the back-and-forth dance he'd been doing from this room and the cafeteria.

In the very least, that smell didn't follow him.

When his hands dropped to his sides, the first face (or, more accurately, first head of hair. With the pillow in the way, her face was obscured) in Venom's line of sight was Bella's. The girl was sitting alone, somehow having found a spot on one of the few couches not pulled into that blue-haired woman's fort. Instinct told him to turn around and walk away. Go the library, his overly-wired mind told him. Anything to avoid this woman and her rightful anger. They'd spent enough time together ten hours ago. She was clearly still in a horrible mood. Just leave her alone.

No. His feet took him over to where she was standing, fingers curling into his palms in an effort to keep the rest of his body language neutral. "Bella." His voice was quiet, lacking the commanding tone it held the entirety of their last meeting. "I need to speak to you about Ms. Littleton."

[diamondstorm]

The day had been satisfactory, more than she could have hoped. Much came in the way of shared information, both hers and others, and the Digimon was far more content than she had been in a while--far more determined to move appropriately and with intent. There was still too much to uncover, too many open paths to explore. With the military and Marc both opening themselves to speak with others.... It opened an entire new line of communication and information network capabilities. It was too much to hope for another Yamato (then, again, with all the man had done before he had turned, perhaps Renamon should not hope for one like him), but it was possible there were those within the military discontent with the goings ons. Especially if the drop about traitors being correct.

It was something to consider, by any means. As well as the rest. The sun room was still a mess of blankets and chairs, but she found a couch off to the side. There was still much to work over, especially with what Nigredo had had to share.

[Byrne~]

[corvus-veritas.livejournal.com]

On any other day, Byrne would have had a lot of things to say about Major Harrington and his inability to keep a professional tone off the intercom. Today, he could care less.

He'd say today just wasn't his day, but that statement applied to the past five or six days he'd been here as well, so it was more like this wasn't his week. It was becoming more and more difficult to remain optimistic, what with his best friend getting into trouble and the food possibly being rotten - possibly, if he wasn't going mad. Was he going mad? Were they breaking him, slowly but surely? He didn't want to submit to Aguilar's game, but it was hard to fight back when he was being hit where it hurt the most. He and Badd both.

Byrne decided to stay in the Sun Room today. It sounded much more appealing than the Game Room, despite it having a massive amount of blankets all over the place from whatever was going on earlier. Whatever happened, the soldiers didn't seem to care too much about it, surprisingly. As the prosecutor searched for a quiet spot to sit down, he spotted a familiar face on one of the couches. Ahh, Renamon. He hadn't seen her in a little while, and she'd been hurt pretty badly last time they had talked, too. Thankfully, she looked like she was doing better now.

He walked over to her and stopped beside the couch without sitting down. "Mind if I join you?" Somehow, he was able to smile a little.

[idolism]

_{[Aigis, poke the hungry vamp if you dare. :|]}

The end of the day found Aidou in the Sun Room, collapsed in a chair with his legs dangling over the arm rest. With night fast approaching, he should have been happier than he was, but in reality all he felt was a bit… overburdened. A little time to think, that was all he needed. Just a little.

Or a lot. But that would be admitting to a weakness on his part, and the noble wasn’t about to allow that. Great genius didn’t always mean a great tolerance for new and increasingly impossible phenomena, so he just needed… a few minutes of solitude to harden his stomach to the possibility--no, the fact--that the Institute was arbitrarily raising the dead or else making someone like him believe that they were raising the dead, or creating some kind of doppelgangers, or zombies, or--

The vampire folded his arms over his eyes and growled to himself, using his forearm to block out the diluted sunlight beaming down from the sun roof.

Why is this happening!?

He didn’t even have the time to get lost in a mental sinkhole. Sai’s reappearance didn’t explain Sasuke’s disappearance, and there were other annoying people Aidou had to keep an eye out for, not to mention the bulletin board, which was telling stories about all sorts of weirdness Aidou hadn’t even known about. Releasing a sigh, he shifted his arm, revealing a sliver of an eye from beneath his sleeve. He had purposely picked a corner to conceal himself, and with his head tipped back over the other arm rest, the room appeared to him upside down.

Just a little time to himself, and then he would reenter the nightmare of a rat race. Hopefully no catastrophes would occur between then and now, though knowing how the Institute worked, there probably would be, somewhere, in some way.

Downtime? There was no such thing.

As if on cue, his stomach let out a thunderous growl, reminding him just how low on energy he was getting. He rubbed it, and it let out a second, sad rumble like an unhappy child looking for console. "You don’t have to tell me," he said to it. "I know."

[no-dont-go.livejournal.com]

[Oh she dares~]

Lunch had been a swift affair. Aigis had systematically gone through her food bite after bite, this time eating all she could despite her distaste for the meal. But she had endured, because that was what was expected of her. She could not allow something as silly as 'distaste' bring her to a state of weakness.

Making her way out into the Sun Room for the last shift, Aigis wandered around looking for a free seat that hadn't been snagged by the tent builders or another patient. She wasn't lucky in her search. However, she did find something else of interest. Or someone else, to be more correct.

Aigis approached from an angle that kept her out of Aidou's view, so she managed to hear the growling of his stomach and his words to himself without alerting him. Her pity took over again despite the acceleration of the thumping of her heart. He was hungry. That meant others would be in danger.

She moved to his side and sunk to her knees beside the chair so that if he just turned his head they would be speaking face to face. She kept her voice quiet, making it clear she didn't want to make a scene even if he felt inclined to accuse her of that. "Aidou-san." He may also have heard a little compassion in her voice, but that could easily be missed in the hushed tone.

[notachick.livejournal.com]

Finally! Lunch was over and, yet again, Okita had merely picked over what he could. Meals here were so difficult and came with such strange things that he almost wanted that pink stuff instead. Almost. He'd had a taste of it once and while it was more acceptable than some of the meals here, it certainly didn't taste good. But today, it wasn't the meal that had the samurai fleeing from the cafeteria as soon as the shift changed - it was the forts.

Even with the strange announcement on the intercom, Okita wasn't about to let anything get in the way of his fun. He still had a pesky feeling he was forgetting something vitally important, but since he couldn't remember and no one was hinting at anything, he let it go. For now, he made his way into the Sun Room, palms clapped together and a grin that rivaled the brightness of the sun on his face. Forts were made for playing and that was exactly what Okita planned to do - play.

Now. To find someone to play with. Peering around the room, Okita started off on his search for a playmate.

[For Goku!]

[monkeyboy]

Goku ran from the cafeteria like a child who had been released from Sunday sermon: Gleefully. He had gotten his three bowls of spoiled slop and it was sure looking like a great day all around, and night too! The monkey boy couldn't wait until the sun went down so he could try his hand at another fight!

The one before had been rather messy. It had taught him a lot about his limits here in this strange place, and Goku was eager to test himself a second time. Despite being practically black and blue and mummy-wrapped under his stiff shirt, the monkey boy waddled through the Sun Room with an excited smile as he looked for Taura.

He bumped into another girl instead. Tilting his head up, a bruised face snickered at Okita. "Hey, I remember you!" He even pointed a stubby finger at the girl just so she knew exactly who he was talking to.

[vstheworld]

It was a thing of beauty.

Since second shift, Fort Pilgrim had grown from a humble outpost opposing the sinister forces of Fort Doom to a robust structure of supreme supremity, dominating the centre of the boys' side of the Sun Room with its might and power. The single parapet formed by two chairs earlier had become a double row of parapets, all covered with blankets. A plastic chair from Arts & Crafts had been upturned, placed atop the couch and blanketed as well, forming a spire. Pillows had been stockpiled behind the couch, ready and waiting to be used as ammunition. The stockpile was barricaded by a half-circle of plastic chairs, one row on the bottom, another row upended on top to make the wall bigger. Blankets covered this wall as well, keeping the unit together. And between the wall and the couch was an entrance big enough for a person to slip in, with a blanket tunnel leading from there to the other section of the fort.

Scott Pilgrim crawled out of that back entrance as fourth shift began, surveying his work with a look that suggested the proudest of craftsmen.

"All right, man. We can take on the world with this!" he said with a big, dopey grin on his face.

[Woody~]

[pullstrung.livejournal.com]

Aside from his conversation with Rita this morning, Woody's day had been woefully uneventful. No clear sign of Buzz, no more clues about what the heck happened between their near brush with death in the dump and waking up here, nothing. While it had been good to hear that Mack (seriously, how was he gonna remember something like Makunouchi?) made it out of last night's fight relatively unharmed, it wasn't enough to put Woody in a chipper mood by any means.

What was he even supposed to do with himself now? The idea of a Game Room sounded comfortingly familiar, but Woody couldn't help but drag his feet a little as he cast forlorn gazes around the room in hopes of finding Buzz. But all he saw was face after unfamiliar face...

And a giant pillow-and-blanket fort that had apparently sprung up in the middle of the Sun Room, almost like a wild west settlement next to a gold mine. While he'd seen it in progress throughout the day, Woody hadn't paid it much mind -- that is, until he saw it sprawled out through the room in all of its glory. For a moment, it reminded him of something Andy would have done during his younger days, and the thought pulled a small smile from Woody in spite of himself.

His attention was soon drawn toward Scott, who was proudly looking at the fort. "Hey," he greeted as he approached him with raised eyebrows, "did you make this?"

[strayfag]

After lunch Badou made a b-line for the sun room. There was still no sign of Alle, but that was fine. In a few hours he could check his room. He was probably asleep. There was no reason to get all worked up about it just yet. Both Badou himself and Alkaid had disappeared for upwards of a week before they showed up again, so this was... nothing to get worked up about. Everything was a-ok. Fretting over it wasn't actually gonna help somehow anyway.

A cigarette would make this all a lot easier to swallow. Though his headache had dissipated some time before the previous shift, a combination of withdrawal and paranoia were playing Beethoven's ninth symphony on nerves already wound too tight. He was tense and irritable and anxious to get get on with nightshift. At least he was early enough to snag a whole couch for himself.

He sprawled across the entirety of it just in case the pillow fort crew got any ideas, and raised one knee enough to prop his journal up against it. On the bright side, Renamon seemed to be making some progress, and with any luck at least one of his problems would be solved tonight. He just had to keep pushing forward. If he spent too long thinking about the what ifs and maybes, he wouldn't even be able to help himself anymore.

The page he'd meant to add information to remained blank. Badou tapped it restlessly with the end of his pen, unfocused. "You'd better be takin' care of yourselves out there."

[For the other crankypants~]

[thesadist]

Daemon wandered into the sunroom after lunch, his hands tucked casually in the pockets of his uniform. This was closer to what he normally wore at home, rather than the institute's former outfit, but it was still something to get used to. Just like everything else. Besides, the stiff uniform was much less comfortable than what he was accustomed to from home. At least the bright side was that the demented smiley was gone.

The pillow fort was still growing and he bit back a laugh as he spotted it. it had taken up a large portion of the room now and the Sunroom was barely recognizable. Which was fine. He was glad that others were finding ways of amusing themselves during the day here.

A faint smile still lingering on his lips, he was strolling towards the windows when the couch on his left spoke to him in an oddly accented voice. Wait, correction, there was a person just out of sight over the back of the couch, apparently talking to himself.

The sight made Daemon pause, one dark brow winging upwards as he peered down at the man. There was something vaguely familiar of him, but Daemon couldn't put a name with the face.

"Who should?" he couldn't help but ask, wondering who the man thought he'd been talking to.

[fluctuate]

[from here]

"This is generally a standard place that's not the cafeteria for you to get your bearings," the woman finished as they landed at the Sun Room. All of the necessary information had been filled in along the way, but Ramona was savvy enough to understand that she wasn't being told everything. It really was a mystery dinner, complete with fake identities and, she figured, fake lives. That was exactly the scenario she wanted to wake up in right at this moment.

It was even better that it included the loud and unmistakeable voice of Scott Pilgrim.

The thing was, Ramona was impressed by the set up in the Sun Room. So what if this was a military set-up? From the looks of things, people were making the best of it right now. She could respect that. Some part of her was all set to drop into one of those immediately available comfortable seats, stretch out, and watch all the action.

And then she heard him. And then she saw him. An anxious pit formed fast in her stomach, and there wasn't an immediate way to get out. Ramona looked down at her hand, half prepared to see it glowing. All the escape mechanisms fell into place. Yet, there she was, and nothing was happening.

So, Ramona did what Ramona did best another way: the normal way. She backed up, turned, and headed where else she could go at this time.

[to here]

[witchoftruth]

Despite encouraging that weird boy to keep building on her fort, Erika had no interest in her own creation and was more then happy to let it stay up, so she wasn't even expecting to spend more of her time in the Sun Room. On the contrary, she had some people to start tracking down. Yet her priorities changed rather quickly when she walked into the room and saw that someone else had built a grander fort opposite of hers, one that was quickly started to overtake her own meager attempts despite everyone else's handiwork.

When she saw that the identity of the boy who was building the second fort, she knew. It had to be done. This was war. She wasn't going to let Scott Pilgrim outdo her when it came to being an annoying, obnoxious brat. It was like that was the only achievement left she had to cling to, and she was not going to be outdone by that guy. Looking at her own fort, Erika's mind worked quickly to get several chairs of her own, rearranging them and taking whatever wasn't already being used by the other people who got here first.

Since she had less material to work with, Erika decided to go for the strategy of having a fort that was 1) in a better position to do war with any opposing forts and 2) one that wouldn't collapse easily. Since she had quite the arsenal of pillows and cushions that were left over from the other visitors in the morning, she was ready for any attack. Therefore, she had to build a fort that wouldn't topple easily. In that case, a smaller, more compact structure might have been better.

After doing some rearranging, Erika stood outside of her newly renovated fort with a pillow in hand, staring at it thoughtfully. Certainly, if anyone wanted to complain about her taking up space, she was making herself obvious as one of the ones responsible for building such a thing.

[ hay riku ]

[inherited]

The same irritation settled into his stomach when he walked in and found her still working. Not only was she working, but she had opposition now, too. Normally, Riku wasn't exactly someone who had a problem with fun, but in his opinion, that meant having some sense of what's happening. Even when he would taunt and tease Sora as a kid, he had some idea of what and why they did everything. That might have been part of the problem, but it didn't make his life any less fun.

Riku recognized that if this was another person here—say, his best friends, for example—he wouldn't be as frustrated. But he also knew that consequences came from certain behaviors. If she wanted to build a fort, that was fine. But if she wanted to build a fort and make things troublesome for his friends, he was going to say something about it.

"I'm starting to think some people actually belong here," he said. It wasn't a greeting, but it was obviously directed toward her. "Come on, you can't come up with anything better to do? I liked this stuff when I was five." "Better" obviously meant "smarter," but he didn't feel like adding footnotes to what he had to say.

[fourstonewalls]

Lunch had been peaceful, and the food no different, whatever Dent might have said about it. They'd stepped up the variety of experiments they were running; she'd have to check with Ema, but it didn't seem like the right way to run a facility at all, ethical issues aside. (Alright, she knew it wasn't, but it wouldn't hurt to ask Ema, once her sister had had a chance to calm down.)

The sun room had been turned into a gigantic jungle gym; there were barely any regular seats left, although it looked like a few had been liberated from the activity rooms as well to make up the numbers. Lana grabbed a folding chair, which seemed safe, and parked it close enough to the building that she could watch what seemed to be a bit of a competition.

[free!]

[revolutionise]

That the Sun Room had been turned into a gigantic jungle gym didn't faze Utena much. Anything was better than sitting with that gigantic jerk or keeping her nose over that rancid bowl for a second longer than she had to. Besides, it wasn't like she ever really needed a place to sit down, anyway. She was, more often than not, just fine parked on her feet doing stretches or leaning against a wall. At the moment, the former seemed to ping her really strongly, too. Nothing seemed to counteract sickness better than exercise, in Utena's humble opinion. Heck, lots of things were counteracted pretty well with exercise. It was practically a cure-all for her at this point.

Utena sought out a bit of free space in which to start doing lunges, and ended up near-ish to a brown-haired woman in a folding chair. It wasn't until after she'd started in on a few of the stretches that she realized the woman looked familiar, and it took a few seconds longer to realize why.

"...Hey, I know you, don't I?" asked Utena, eyes on the woman as she lunged forward over one knee. A smile crossed her face as she studied the woman a bit more. "Yeah, I'm sure I do! Oh man, sorry, you just look kinda different in the daytime!"

She pulled herself back to her feet for a moment, putting a hand to her chest. "Tenjou Utena. I think I helped you and another girl out a bit last week, right?"

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

It was hard to play Tetris with only one good hand, so Indy passed on the games and had himself wheeled to the Sun Room. There were several relevant messages on the bulletin board, but he was really hoping to run into Dent somewhere around here. They ought to check in, and he needed to discuss their next move with an adult--all the more so since Dent wasn't impulsive in the same way Peter and Pilgrim were. He was still feeling the effects of the second round of painkillers they'd given him at lunch, but this was still a conversation better had now than later.

He directed the soldier steering his wheelchair to an empty spot near one of the chairs, placed where someone might have to do a little work to overhear. Once that was done, all he could do was keep an eye on the door and wait to flag Dent down if he came in.

[dualistic]

With lunch over, Harvey had one more chance to track down the man he'd been searching out for the majority of the day. If he wasn't able to find Jones now, then he'd have to wait until tomorrow to speak with him, and for some reason that felt like it would be way too long. Granted, part of it was just that he needed to see that Scott had been telling the truth, even though he knew that the kid had to have been.

Seeing it with your own two eyes was another thing entirely, though.

As it turned out, though, his search had suddenly become that much easier. Harvey exited the cafeteria out into the Sun Room and had been figuring that he'd need to check in the Game Room, but his eyes fixed on a wheelchair and he realized -- just from the back of the guy's head -- that it was the person he was looking for sitting in it.

Of course, it wouldn't feel entirely real until he saw Jones' face, and so Harvey started toward the man, trying to make it seem like he wasn't making a beeline right for him. He wasn't sure how well he succeeded at that, but as he approached he placed a hand on Jones' shoulder, digging his fingers in before he circled around and took a seat across from him.

The guy was clearly worse for the wear, but he was alive and here and that was weird as hell, but it wasn't bad. "So... we really got the wool pulled over our eyes there, didn't we?" he started with a huff. It was so much easier to handle this with some pretense of casualness.

[selfnighted.livejournal.com]

Hmm. Who had Intercom Man been talking to? This was looking to be quite an interesting development; pity she had no method of keeping up with it. The patients would find out soon enough what they were planning. Or not.

No matter. Upon entrance to the Sun Room, she glanced about in puzzlement, and then, amused, started wandering the perimeter of the room, keeping an eye out for a seat. She didn't find one, but she did come across the bulletin board, which she idly looked over. Hmm. A map, a mention of the basement, which didn't seem to have been included in the map—strange, as a basement was its own floor. Upon closer inspection, the stairs to said basement didn't seem to be marked on the map, either.

Another mini-mystery. Uninterested in solving it, Maya turned back to the room at large, and, with another glance, moved to her chosen spot on the floor to observe the architectural splendors in progress.

[age-of-kings.livejournal.com]

Tolten couldn't help but ask to return to the Sun Room following an uneventful and bland lunch. He was curious as to whether or not the impressively cobbled together play houses were still there, or being added to. He'd never been a typical child in any sense of the word - royalty wasn't allowed that luxury - but he could remember watching the servant children play. And wishing he could join in.

It was rather the same, this time. Only he was a man now, despite hardly feeling that way. He had done things of great importance, he had proved himself... Nevertheless he found himself on the outskirts feeling different. He had done those things back home, and none of that mattered here. Home was a dream, a fantasy, a different life entirely. Two different lives, probably more, if he sat and thought about it.

He was lost in his own thoughts as he slowly circled the Sun Room, his focus on the patient-made structures in the room rather than anything else. Which was why he blundered lightly into a woman he hadn't noticed, his shoulder and forearm striking her before he realized and leapt back. The young king's expression was one of pure horror, and he lifted his hand to cover his mouth.

"Oh dear gods, I'm so terribly sorry!"

[tightsofmight]

The Sun Room had exploded. It looked like they were filming a Tide commercial, with all the pearly white sheets strewn about and pillows for bricks. There wasn't so much as a stool leftover.

And you know what?

This pleased Peter Parker greatly.

A broad grin hit his face and he waved at Scott, who both seemed to be engineering the project and speaking with another older (and taller) man about it, and began to poke around the perimeter for a way in. He didn't know why the soldiers weren't kicking the whole thing down or making them scrub toilets with toothbrushes for disturbing the peace, but it was fine. If they were letting them get away with it, what was the harm in it at all?

[For THE GREATEST NATION ON EARTH's lesser brother to the south, AMERICA.]

let the epic brofisting begin

[brb-burgers.livejournal.com]

Now this was a sight to behind if he had ever beheld a sight before. And he had seen some pretty monumentous things in his day... things that changed the world and changed the surface of the moon and all manner of trendsetting for the future. Still, with all of that, the small joys were not lost upon him. So when he realized that those sheets and pillows in those formations really, who could miss the shape of a fort, it was universal weren't just for decoration but for enjoyment, well.

It wouldn't take an act of congress to get him to join in on this fun.

Seems like he wasn't the only one enjoying the spectacle, either. A look around had him spotting a young man with a terribly familiar face. On instinct he smiled like Hollywood on cameras and approached him. There was a sort of-- familiar tingling sensation, like a word on the tip of his tongue he couldn't recall and...

"Hey," might as well just dive right in if there was something to be learned from this encounter, "You seeing what I'm seeing?"

[savagestray.livejournal.com]

When given the choice, Heine again opted for the Sun Room. Whether or not there was some connection between being there and meeting Lily, he wasn't sure, but he sat on the edge of the couch, watching the people come in and making no effort to hide the way his red eyes flicked to the door every time it opened.

Badou was off near some bulletin board, looking up... whatever it was he did and getting hit on by some tall dark stranger who looked like a former male model. Though, it was hardly as distracting as the people trying to build a fort out of pillows and sheets. At least it helped pass the time. He let out a sigh and leaned on the armrest, watching listlessly as he waited for any sign of Lily.

[Seishin]

[unpriest]

Lunch mercifully came to an end, and Seishin couldn't help but to experience a sense of relief when a soldier came to escort him to the next shift. Though the woman hadn't been unkind, he didn't know how much longer he could remain seated there, watching people eat the rotten food without eventually throwing up.

People were still building forts in the Sun room for reasons Seishin failed to fathom. It appeared to have unfolded as some sort of competition, one that the soldiers around the area had no intention of stopping curiously enough.

He wandered between the structures in search of a seat. Though the forts were amusing, it didn't quite leave a lot of seats. He may have been more successful finding one in the game room, but he didn't quite have the energy for such things.

He eventually located a couch that was partly occupied by a young man. "Excuse me," Seishin began quietly, pausing before the stranger, "is this seat taken?"

[believein0.livejournal.com]

[Kurogane, if is this okay?]

And it continued to get worse. Or better? Zero wasn't sure. In any case, he now had a name for the mysterious person on the bulletin board: Nigredo. Which sounded an awful lot like Albedo, who had said he came from the same year that Nigredo mentioned. 4753 TC. It probably wasn't too much to assume the two were related in some fashion, putting two and two together.

The...unusual intercom broadcast had been largely ignored this time around, as Zero had been thinking too much about that conversation on the bulletin board to really care. In fact, he was so distracted by that conversation that he'd been failing to notice anything else on the board that might actually be helpful. This whole time travel mess was bothering him more than it probably should...

As lunch ended, he decided to head to the board first thing to check it again. Unsurprisingly, the Sun Room was still a mess of blankets and chairs when he arrived. Why were some of the prisoners so determined to make all of this, anyway? There wasn't a point to it that Zero could see, other than useless fooling around. If it weren't for the fact that his other option was the Game Room, which sounded like an even bigger waste of time, he wouldn't bother staying in here after taking care of his business at the board. It could be worse, he supposed...it could be that stupid arts and crafts shift again.

After checking the board for an update, he wandered around the edges of the room, looking for a good place to sit that would largely keep him away from the childish affairs going on. Ah, perhaps he should also be looking for someone to swap information with? Someone he had yet to speak to, so he could get a new perspective on things. That would be a good use of his time in here. As it turned out, there was an unfamiliar man sitting in a chair by himself - just the kind of person Zero was looking for. No place to sit near him, but that was alright, he decided.

Of course, the first thing the once-Reploid said to the man after approaching him was, "Is there a point to what they're doing over there?" No formal greeting or request to join the man's company, like usual. At least he wasn't starting the conversation off by immediately asking for information.

[contentincloset.livejournal.com]

Kurogane had seen the mess of blankets and chairs when first entering, but had ignored it. He didn't know what it was supposed to be, and he honestly did not want to know either. So when someone came over despite there being no place to sit and started asking about it, all Kurogane did was sigh.

"Beats me."

[deathandgin]

Operation not stab anyone in the face was going just swimmingly. Regardless, nothing was really out on a quest to drastically improve Alaric's mood, either, his former lunch company included. Sure, he was full now, but for all the luck he'd had so far they'd stuck another round of parasites in the pink sludge and tonight Alaric would end up falling on a knife and losing an eye as well as his frontal lobe.

At least he wouldn't care about anything at that point. Yay.

It wasn't in him to sulk, but he did. Sue him. He bypassed the tent-fort-thing that took up the majority of the room and just. Slid to the floor. All the chairs and crap were already taken up anyway, and the warmth of the sunlight flooding through the front windows was somewhat relaxing. God. He didn't even have alcohol to soak himself in, and if Peter actually got him prison hooch he was going to slug himself in the face.

Worst teacher ever. Worst guardian ever. Worst role model ever.

Just the thought gave him a visible tick in his fingers, reaching for a tumbler of gin that wasn't there. When he got out, he was going on a bender.

Yep.

[For Billy!]

[touchedgod.livejournal.com]

The fort was still there, standing strong. Even the small corner that Kirk (Captain fucking Kirk) had gotten him to help construct was there, and Billy was something-sort-of-like proud of it. There were few things to take joy in, might as well focus on the small things, like reverting to the maturity of a seven year old and making a blanket fort with Captain Kirk. Of course, Kirk would have been an action figure of William Shatner, and not the real thing, only a a more youthful version. A childhood icon, now younger than him and definitely more handsome than him, although Billy had never much worried about his own age. He couldn't say he hadn't accomplished anything in his life. Although what really had they accomplished?

Billy'd been a shoddy excuse for a prophet. And when Dane wasn't satisfied with his first experience with martyrdom, he went and tried again. Unlike Billy, he had become the real thing. Died for his faith. The first time, he probably died for Billy too. The second time had nothing to do with Billy though, if you discounted his pleading for Dane to change his mind.

Being alive had become uncomfortable in the past twelve hours. Billy couldn't decide where he was, or how he had gotten there, and he missed Dane painfully. He searched unconsciously for any statues or dolls or wall carvings, anything he could whisper to and try to draw Wati out. He just wanted to hear someone that he knew, someone that knew Dane too, that he could talk to. Now that they had the time, they could forget about the end of the world and just mourn like normal people. Normal like an ancient Egyptian spirit and the beloved of an Angel of Memory, pining for the squid-worshipping assassin they'd been unable to save from himself.

He settled down on the floor near a man who looked about as haggard as Billy himself felt. He analyzed his face carefully, but decided he didn't know him. It was a relief that he wouldn't need to bother with the tip toeing around some fantasy made real. Or some reality made fantasy. Billy considered his life, in fact, perfectly worthy of a BBC production. Somewhere out there, there might be a man who was not him but looked exactly like him and played him on television.

There was someone who looked exactly like Dane.

"I helped them build that," he told the stranger. "Kind of wishing I hadn't. Maybe then we'd have a couch to sit on."

[doneinthree]

Kirk had to smile at Harrington's unintended outburst on the intercom, because hell, why not, they weren't exactly swimming in fun moments here. The Game Room was open for this shift, but Kirk wasn't in the mood for chess and cramped spaces this time. He settled instead on the floor of the Sun Room (there weren't exactly a lot of seating options anyway) and dropped onto his back. Nobody stopped him.

The sun was no longer as bright as it had been earlier today, but a blue sky still stretched out beyond the glass ceiling and it was almost like being outside. Almost. Minus the towering blanket fort at the edge of his vision, and Kirk smiled at it, quiet and brief, like a sigh. The melancholy which he'd managed to push aside until now crept up on him.

Kirk closed his eyes, as if preparing for a nap. He thought about himself. He thought about what Billy had said about him, about the Kobayashi Maru. A test of character, wasn't it? Kirk had seen it as a game with win-or-lose conditions, another obstacle to overcome. It wasn't, contrary to what some people might think, just an opportunity for him to gloat and show off. They'd set him a challenge. He'd met it, straight on.

Spock had argued for "test of character" as well. But Kirk considered, for the first time, what it really said about him. Not that he was too reckless or cocky or clever for his own good, although those things were true too. It was that he didn't give up. He didn't believe in no-win scenarios.

He thought of Chekov, who had vanished over a week ago, who had appeared before him last night like a ghost. Literally. Kirk opened his eyes again, stared straight up at the sky, and made himself feel in his gut that he'd be back up there again. He didn't give up. It was simple as that.

[Jessica]

i am the worst forever i know jafklsadja

[arakhnes.livejournal.com]

The Sun Room was one of the rooms she had never been in before, and upon entering past the doors, she had to wonder why. What coined its name spread across the ceiling above her and pillows and sheets were strewn about. It was a rather surreal situation (not that all of this wasn't) and she paused, glancing around. There was Peter and Scott and she juggled the idea of going to see either one of them, but then decided against it. She hwas shoved her way in enough (she would see Peter tonight), and she was still... adjusting. Coping.

Dealing.

It was difficult, realizing that just the day before, she had been plagued with hallucinations. Bad enough that her body still racked with nervousness and fear, guilt strumming through her chest when she thought about it. That someone had died by Peter's hands, and suddenly, it was all over. The next day was normal like nothing happened. (She knew she had it weird back in Queens, but even then...) But she was here to relax. To forget everything that had happened just for a brief moment, even if it wouldn't last.

(Part of her couldn't stop thinking about what happened over the intercom either. What was that?)

Jessica maneuvered her way through the Sun Room, slipping past people, trying to find some space that wasn't occupied. It was difficult. And what was even more difficult was not tripping over people. Which she almost did. There was a man laying on the floor and she didn't see him was she walked, stumbling when she caught herself almost stepping on his stomach.

"S-sorry!"

[train-tracer.livejournal.com]

The conversation with Sai had been enlightening, really! Despite his injuries, today was turning out great! He'd discovered magic all over the bulletin board, caught up with Miss Sakura, gotten information, and was going to see more magic tonight! It really couldn't get better, could it?

Since he hadn't yet slept yet in what could count as a day, Claire searched around for a chair or something he could pull from the giant creation that was the centerpiece of the Sun Room today. He thought it was rather nice, himself, but it wasn't nicer than a place he could nap in.

Having found one, he settled in to get a few winks in, maybe check that bulletin board a few more times before dinner time. When he got back to his room, there were things that Claire would have to remember to do.

[Closed]