damned_institute | Day 59: Sun Room (4th Shift)

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!]

Edited 2011-10-14 23:59 (UTC)

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.

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~]

_{[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."

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!]

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~]

Edited 2011-10-15 05:51 (UTC)

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~]

Edited 2011-10-15 20:06 (UTC)

[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]

Edited 2011-10-15 21:26 (UTC)

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 ]

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!]

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.

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.

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.]

Edited 2011-10-17 03:42 (UTC)

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]

[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.

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!]

Edited 2011-10-18 05:24 (UTC)

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]

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]

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