Day 59: Intercom, Evening

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

As the day began drawing to a close, the intercom flickered to life. Instead of Harrington's voice, however, Berg's calm tone filtered through the speakers.

"Attention all personnel: please escort subjects to their quarters for the duration of dinner shift. After that, you are expected to report to your stations -- no exceptions. Anyone caught away from his or her post without direct orders will have to personally answer to the general."

An odd tension hung in the air, but Berg didn't say anything more than that. Once the intercom clicked off, soldiers began to gather up the patients and bring them to their rooms. Most didn't know why Harrington wasn't handling the announcements, or why Berg sounded particularly serious this evening, though no one would admit that to the subjects themselves.

The few who did know had more pressing matters to contend with.

Comments

F14

[gald_digger]

Aside from the problem with the food, the day had gone pretty well. Anise was able to catch up with friends, and she had another excursion with Guy and Claude to look forward to! But now it was time for another meal, which meant...

Ugh. Upon entering her room, Anise found herself facing a plate covered in rancid meat and greenish strips that might have once been tempura. She stared at the tray for a moment, taking in how completely gross it was as she tried to think of what to do about it. She didn't want to spend the whole shift trying to fight a gag reflex while talking to Utena. They had something important to discuss, too!

The closet. There wasn't anywhere else to put it, so... maybe it would make a small barrier for the stench. But she didn't want to stink up her clothes, so before going anywhere near the rot-covered plate, Anise went straight to the closet. She opened the door and pulled out everything she planned to wear that night: a pair of boots, gloves, and her leather jacket. Those were all laid out on her bed, which was already pretty full of stuff. Anise had collected so many things that only about half of it would fit in her possessions box.

The next step was actually moving the food. Anise took one step from the closet to bring herself closer to the desk... but it was going to take another moment of gathering her courage to get that close to something she was pretty sure was bug-infested.

Re: F14

[revolutionise]

After a relaxing shift spent with Lana, Utena headed back to F14... where her hand immediately went to her nose upon opening the door.

"Oh my god, it's worse than earlier," she groaned, scrunching her eyes shut as the door shut behind her. "I should've figured the real food would stink worse than the gruel. Uughh."

She opened one eye, watching Anise as she tried to get closer to her plate (was that buzzing she heard?). "Need any help there?" she asked, glancing back to the open closet door and getting a sense of what the other girl was trying to do. Not a bad idea if she did say so herself.

F36

[bodhiandspirit.livejournal.com]

Finally. With the shift change, Rita was a little bit closer to getting to go out and get things done.

Since she hadn't eaten all day, the mage was eager to dig into the food stashed in her possessions box, but she decided to wait until Kairi joined her. The soldiers seemed to have a lot of rules regarding food, and she didn't want to have her only chance at a half-decent meal confiscated because her roommate's escort saw her eating it.

Instead, she sat down at her desk, pushed the gruel aside, and reviewed the notes in her journal, just for something to do. She hoped Kairi wouldn't be too long.

[kingdomless.livejournal.com]

If Kairi was being truthful, she was somewhat sad to not be wandering around with Riku and Sora that night. She didn't like to be separate from them, but she knew it was for the best. She had her own things to do, and they had theirs, and that was that. It wasn't like they were going to leave her alone again -

Don't, Kairi thought to herself, shaking her head. She had buried those thoughts a long time ago. She didn't need to bring them back.

When she entered the room, Rita looked busy with something. Her soldier followed behind her, placing her tray of food down on her desk, giving her a nod of goodbye before leaving, shutting the door behind him. Kairi moved to sit at her desk, turning her head to look at Rita with a frown. "How are you feeling, Rita? Since last night, I mean ..."

M64

[unpriest]

After having to endure the spoiled food for both of the meal times, it was understandable that Seishin hadn't been looking forward to dinner at all. Though it was reassuring in a sense that he wasn't alone in perceiving the food in such a disgusting manner, it didn't do much to relief him of the sick yet empty feeling in his stomach.

Another bowl of pink gruel awaited him upon entrance, the unpleasant smell coming from it more than plenty to inform the novelist of its state. Unfortunately, he had no idea what to do with it. He shoved the bowl as far away from him as possible as he began investigating the items left on the desk on his side of the room. These included a medium-sized metal box labeled with the same number that was on the dog tag he wore, and -- for some reason -- the very same cleaver he had been given yesterday.

A frown appeared on the former priest's features as he picked it up, uncertain why the military had left this here. They had failed the mission, hadn't they? Furthermore, they must have noticed the lack of the documents on his person when he had been brought back, considering he had purposely left them in the building they were meant to blow up. The military didn't quite appear so forgiving as to give him a weapon after all that.

As little sense as it made, it did appear to be the case.

Puzzling as it was, Seishin put it back on the desk for now -- he didn't quite need it until night fell, after all -- and began investigating the metal box.

[terriblehaiku]

His roommate was already there when Hijikata walked in, but aside from a cursory glance, he paid the other man no mind as he set his tray off to the side and went straight for the metal box on his half of the room. As with the previous nights, all his belongings were there--including the firestarter he'd gotten from Souji the night before. Good. That meant the younger man couldn't torment him by withholding it any longer. He pulled out the pack of already opened cigarettes and returned to his desk. From what he'd gathered, smoking was frowned upon during the day, and he wasn't sure if lighting up now would provoke someone's ire, so he decided to play it safe and wait.

Which meant he had nothing much to do than fidget in vague irritation while he waited for the doors to unlock and everyone to be set free for another night of whatever ridiculous hell this place decided to unleash.

M6

[dispersive]

This time, Luke observed his surrounding a bit more critically than he had this morning. When he was lead out of the Sun Room, the young man assumed the double doors they passed through were going to be the meeting place with Tear.

Tear...

Luke wasn't sure in what capacity he would come back as after freeing Lorelei, but, even if they were all stuck in a prison, at least he had managed to keep his promise of returning. That made their current predicament not so dark. He was alive and with those he cared about... Well, until...

Looking down at his hands, Luke turned them over as he searched for any signs of his fonons fading. He seemed rather whole at the moment; that was a good sign for now.

As he stepped into his room, M6 the redhead noted, Luke found another plate of gruel waiting for him. This day just kept getting better and better. Actually, he was grateful it was nothing more delicious or else he'd have felt bad letting it go to waste. He was just too nervous about the coming night to eat. The last thing he needed was a stone where his stomach used to be.

His biggest concern was how he was going to escape from his room. Luke had heard the man lock the door behind him and if what Guy had told him was true, he may not stand a chance breaking the reinforced door down with his artes.

"What a pain..." he groused at his legs as they kicked back and forth over the edge of his bed. What if he couldn't get out? Would Tear stand there all night? He hadn't honestly expected to slow Tear down like he had said on the bulletin board. It came from childish petulance as he got passed around, but now it seemed like a realistic concern.

Re: M6

[zanuff]

Chipp didn't know where he woke up last night, but now he found out when a soldier came over to push him into said room. Since he didn't wake up with another person there, he was a little confused when he was shoved (a little literally) into a room with some redhaired guy. Definitely not what he remembered last night. And the ninja wasn't going to let the soldier get away with that, turning around sharply to try and ask what the hell he thought he was doing before a door slammed in his face; clearly, the soldier wasn't too keen on hanging around Chipp longer then he had to.

"Tch, what a pain!" Chipp spat (almost literally) as he glared at the door, giving it a good kick for good measure. That was a bit of a bad move, but he managed to make the door rattle a little bit. A slight victory, but he felt like it wasn't enough and continued to mutter and curse at the door for a few moments.

Then he seemed to remember he wasn't alone.

"... Who're you?" If Chipp looked like he was in a bad mood, it was only because he hated being unable to resist these weird ass Magic-wielding soldiers who could set shit on fire, but he didn't make any attempt to look friendly or approachable even to this poor sap who ended up getting stuck in the same room as him. Chipp finally moved away from the door, calming down ever so slightly as he sat down on the bed and glanced at the trays full of... well, he hoped it was food, but it was the same pink crap that Daemon had been eating at lunch.

Nope, Chipp was going to catch him something outside. Screw that. He returned his attention to the red haired kid, idly wondering where he was and where he was from and if he was new or been here for awhile. Roommates? It had been way too long since he had a room like this to himself, much less having to share it with someone else.

F6

[36-24-35.livejournal.com]

Lightning hadn't returned to the room. She hoped that just meant she was late coming back from the Sun Room or maybe the infirmary... or solitary. Tifa groaned at the thought. That was a lesson she hoped would never have to be repeated. But she supposed it was better than no longer existing or whatever happened to those that disappeared in this place.

Ignoring her bowl of gruel, since Zack had been so adamant about its dangers, Tifa moved over to her closet. Lightning's sword was where she had left it, along with her liquor. It seemed her materia had migrated to the lockbox sitting on her table.

"What a weird place..." and Tifa had been to some weird places. With nothing else to do but wait, she sat down on her bed and stared at the far wall.

Re: F6

[fluctuate]

"I'm gonna go on a limb and guess you've never been to Canada," Ramona said as she entered the room. Not that Toronto was especially weird. Actually, if she didn't know Scott Pilgrim and hadn't somehow sicked a bunch of evil exes on him, the place would be downright normal. And cold. And boring. But there were still the weird coins for money and the queen all over and the times when the old people seemed to think they were just mere miles away from London. Maybe those didn't count.

"Not that I'm discounting the fact that this is Canada," she continued on, grabbing her food with a wrinkling nose. She muttered something akin to what she'd already been saying, something like "the food isn't that different," but it was finished with a trying bite of it. "Did you see the weather outside?" She rolled her eyes.

This was probably a more boisterous way of greeting someone than her roommate was used to, especially if she was staring at a wall, but Ramona figured it was better than being mopey. Something was coming that night, and although her day was ... pretty not good on the scale of not good days—and only because she hadn't ultimately been able to figure out what she thought of Scott being there—she didn't mind the creepy stuff coming. At least it would make the mood more interesting. Dystopia fiction wasn't bad, but she got sick about five seconds in of this place trying to hide it.

As for the girl she landed with, Ramona decided it was ultimately best to do the casual route. It was better than focusing on her ... assets, especially since her uniform didn't hide them that well. She selfishly resented that, but didn't wallow in it. She'd rather wallow in this tasteless stuff before her. Or if she didn't even get a response. There was a fair chance of that.

M44

[full-score.livejournal.com]

There was something a little weird about that last announcement, but Claude couldn't quite put on his finger on it. At any rate, he'd had a pleasant enough chat with Tear. It was good to see she was in good health. And with Luke here again, he had a feeling she was relieved to know where he was now.

Once he reached his room, Claude was thankful to discover that his escort didn't have any intention to stick him with another needle. After last night, though, it was hard to let his guard down. He remained tense until the soldier finally left him to his meal.

Claude's gaze drifted down to his delicious-looking teriyaki and tempura. Although his first instinct was to chow down, he couldn't help but remember Anise's story. There was a chance the institute had done something in order to make her hallucinate (and, quite frankly, the thought made his teeth clench in outrage), but what if the food really was bad?

He sighed and wondered if he shouldn't just start preparing for tonight instead.

[immortale]

If they tried to drug him again tonight, Firo was going to be ready for it, ready to fight back without getting caught like before. He'd watched his escort carefully the entire way back to the room--but when they arrived, there was no nurse lying in wait a second time. The soldier simply pushed him inside and locked the door behind him. If it weren't for the relief of not getting drugged again, it was almost a let-down.

Claude was already inside, and Firo greeted him with a nod before heading for his desk where the usual pink slop was waiting for him. He was hungry after skipping lunch, but... No; he'd wait it out a little longer--he'd find out whether it still looked bad to Peter or Hakkai then. Ignoring his dinner, he turned towards Claude instead.

"How did last night go?" he asked. "Did anything... weird happen?"

M79

[pullstrung.livejournal.com]

As bad as things were, Woody couldn't help but smile to himself as his guard brought him to his room. Life was definitely tough here, but it was strangely encouraging to see that some folks here didn't let it drag them down all the time. More than that, he liked that Scott had a colorful imagination despite his age. A few minutes of play perked Woody a lot more than he thought it would.

It almost took the sting out of the pink gruel waiting for him -- keyword: almost. Woody sighed as he sunk down in front of his plate, annoyed that this place had even bothered to shove real food down his throat in the first place. If they'd just started him out on this junk, he probably wouldn't have understood the difference.

Propping his chin into one hand, Woody idly stirred the slop around with his fork. He wondered if Buzz was okay. His roommate had sounded like he was still here, but some of the stuff he wrote wasn't all that reassuring.

Re: M79

[believein0.livejournal.com]

Once again, the day was ending with more unanswered questions about this place. That whole time travel mess was still weighing heavily on Zero's mind despite confirmations that it was true, and so was the thought of meeting Nigredo tomorrow and what might result from that. But the once-Reploid tried to stop himself from becoming too frustrated at all of this, especially over his unanswered questions. He'd already been warned a few times that things were supposed to be confusing around here, and he himself had concluded that keeping the prisoners in the dark was simply Aguilar's way of maintaining control. He should just expect the unexpected from now on and not let himself get too caught up over why this and why that.

...That resolution didn't stop him from becoming surprised when, after being led to his room by Pushy Human Escort, he found there was another prisoner in there already, sitting at one of the desks with a plate of food. Huh? Zero paused in front of the door and stared at the stranger, blinking. He'd never seen this man before. What was he doing here?

And so came the obvious question. "Who are you?" It wasn't said in the way a territorial person would cry oh my god get out of here, it was just a simple question.

M5

[touchedgod.livejournal.com]

Dinner wasn't worth the effort of looking at it. Like a sullen child. Billy had left it on the desk for the maggots to enjoy, and collapsed on the bed. He was exhausted. Sick from grief and being spread too thin and not having eaten in... when had he last eaten something? Probably right before the ritual, actually. He was flirting with two days of no food.

Billy dropped his arm over his eyes and stared into the dark crook of his elbow. He was going to cry. He couldn't think of anything that didn't just lead him back to memories that demanded emotion from him. He exhaled. He took several more breaths after that. They didn't seem to do much, and Billy still felt like he was underwater. Millions of units of pressure above him, miles of water, and no bubbles to lead him up again. He wasn't even asleep, but he was tired, and with it came the sighing of the ocean, or maybe just the slosh of formaldehyde in a bottle.

The moment passed, and the movement settled. He didn't feel half as rocky, and he returned his arm to his side. What now? He might as well have asked the ceiling, for all the answers he had. It was supposed to be over now. He deserved an end, if nothing else, but Billy had been taught cynicism. You just never got what you deserved.

[vinesofregret]

Hakkai could see his roommate's disdain for the food - not that he could blame him, if the other man was seeing what he saw. He took a seat on the edge of his bed - 'his' by process of elimination, if nothing else - and tried to ignore the smell of the food. It hadn't been so bad at lunch, but in the small room, it was starting to give him the beginnings of a headache.

A small sigh escaped, and he reached up absentmindedly to rub at the edge of his eye. Today had been... bizarre, really. Which, given the things he'd seen, seemed an almost laughable adjective to apply to such a situation - but it was true. The parody of normalacy here - it was disorienting. And reminded him of all he was missing, at the moment.

Somewhat belatedly, he remembered that there was someone else in the room, and that right now was not a time to dwell on the past. He forced on at least the semblance of a smile.

"Is the food bothering you as well?"

M24

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Ending the day by getting to check on his niece was more or less the best way to do so, which Peter was glad for. He couldn't say that things were going well, since he was still stuck in this place and so was everyone else, but he was definitely establishing a stronger direction for himself and that was enough to energize him.

A lot of it was thanks to Tear and her support with putting this whole group together. Peter had already decided that she was competent, but he couldn't help but worry about her nonetheless. He hadn't given her a particularly difficult task and he'd also given her a few names for people who could watch her back, but...

Well, Ritsuka was just a kid and Peter had only spoken to that Gumshoe guy once, so it was a little tentative, but they were doing their best.

As for his own plans, he was hoping that he could convince Sam to come along so that he had some extra help, but if that didn't pan out then he and Kibitoshin would just have to make do. Peter realized he wasn't exactly packed with firepower, which was why he wanted a third person in the first place, but... Well, they would manage if they had to.

Claire seemed taken care of, so that was one weight off his shoulders at the least. As Peter entered his room, he found that Sam was still on his way. He was about to sit down to his plate of Japanese food, but found that their meals were still being served to them rotten. That clearly wasn't going to happen, so instead he moved over to his closet, opening the door to pull out the two boxes of supplies that Utena and Soma had brought him last night. He sat himself down on the floor and started to sort through them, trying not to think about the way his stomach was starting to eat itself.

[boyking]

The day had been weirdly mellow, which was kinda nice, but put him on edge just by virtue of the fact that when things were quiet, that was when shit really hit the fan.

As people filed down the hallway, one soldier pulled him aside to—promote him, apparently. Nice of them. Three weeks. Right. How could he forget. He'd woken up in his room during dinner three weeks ago. God, really? It seemed longer. He knew it wasn't, that was just how it felt. His sense of time in here was seriously whacked.

He didn't get the soldier's offhand, Enjoy your meal, until he stepped into his room and realized his tray actually had something that wasn't an insane shade of pink. He also noticed Peter on the floor by the closet. Huh. Peter almost never ignored his dinner. If anyone went without eating, it was usually Sam. Did something happen? It didn't seem like it, but...

"Hey." He sat down and started digging in. His brows were drawn in question. "Lost your appetite?"

M96

[falseblack]

Nigredo had retired to his room long before the pronouncement for dinner, spending the late afternoon reading a book about a prepubescent girl and her rise to power in boarding school. The story was far more engrossing than he wanted to admit, though he couldn't understand how anyone could be entranced about mystical sea creatures and their dealings in romance. Girls, Nigredo concluded at the beginning of the fifth chapter, were weird. Weirder than initially thought.

At the start of dinner, he shoved the book underneath his pillow and took to sorting his items. Dinner, as always, was ignored for productivity, though he did note his privileges now included the usual meal. It was odd what they considered to be rewards. They would likely get better reception by offering weapons, but who was he to complain? Everything returned to neutrality, regardless of shifts.

And it seemed better to reserve his concentration for elsewhere.

M58

[purgatio]

My, my.~ Today had certainly been an interesting day, hadn't it? It had passed the time most smoothly, at the least. Albedo would have to continue this trend, if he found himself bored. Finding the aspects that were fun in others and playing with them.... It was really fun, wasn't it? He barely noticed the day passing today, and that in itself was something new. The only other times the day had fell away from him were when Rubedo--

Inside the room, the boy's head tilted at an unnatural degree, thoughts shutting down as soon as they appeared. There it was again, the simple snakelike thought that one would not be able to press away such things forever, no, not forever, not days, not weeks, and yet still, Albedo was trying, because to think of that would be...

A kind of death in itself. And he had promised, hadn't he?

So he would continue to lie. Continue to slip from himself to maintain sanity's tight coil. It was only but a quiet secret, held and kept.

F19

[melodists.livejournal.com]

Another meal was set aside, and although Tear was beginning to feel the effects of hunger, she managed to keep herself together. She had no reason to doubt Anise, after all, and if the girl had perceived the food as contaminated, it was best that Tear observed the same to the best of her ability. The soldier did, however, take the medicine they had left for her. With a long night ahead, she couldn't afford to take chances with her condition, and Tear could not reason enough to back away.

It did steady her disorientation and lessen her headache, at the very least. Her gamble, then, had paid off.

Instead of dinner, she focused on gathering up the necessities for tonight. On occasion, she glanced at the door, eyes watching for the appearance of her roommate. Changes in rooming and rooming situation were always a concern here; she hoped Shiina hadn't fallen victim to the institute's tendency to cause people to disappear.

F19

[requitedfate.livejournal.com]

It seemed that Shiina had survived her second day at the institute with little incident. Unless one counted the being unable to eat and nearly losing what little she had left in her from the day before. That had not been so good. Still, Shiina couldn't let a little hunger get to her. Shou had gone through much more pain in all of his lives.

However, her hunger didn't make the smell coming from the trays in her and Tear's room any more appetizing. If anything, it just caused a bit more stress to furrow Shiina's brow as she attempted to once again force down a swallow of stagnant air as she stepped into the room. Tear had already arrived it seemed and, thankfully, had enough sense to have placed her meal to the side. Shiina didn't think she could take watching someone eat that mold-encrusted goop in such close quarters.

"Evening, Tear-san," she greeted, her voice quiet in an attempt to keep her gag reflex at bay. "I hope you had a... nice day."

Shiina moved to her desk and promptly threw the offending bowl of corroded mush into the trashcan. She then placed her freshly vacated tray face-down over the trash receptacle in an attempt to hide the sight and smell of the festering gruel as much as possible. There, already one monstrous sight dealt with tonight. She could handle this place, no problem.

M42

[scarefaux]

The door closed behind the Scarecrow with a snap, leaving him alone in the room with only the tray in his hand, the boxes on the beds, and his own miserable thoughts for company. He couldn't rightly explain it, being mostly unfamiliar with the human body, but he just wasn't feeling hungry- there was the weariness he knew was associated with hunger, and a turning in his middle he couldn't quite describe, but it was as though the rest of his processes had been stifled by the worries that had plagued him throughout the day.

Mele was gone, and there was a high chance it was his fault.

His hands started shaking again as he repeated the words in his head. Consequences for their failure. Not just any failure- a deliberate one. They'd seemingly protected Rosemarie and her associate for now, but in exchange for their own friends? It was hard to say that was a fair trade, or that it was what Mele would have wanted. The Scarecrow couldn't say even he wanted it, now that it had come to light.

Rather than allowing his trembling hands to spill the gruel, he set his tray on the desk and had a seat on the bed. His eyes trailed to the other side of the room- no Depth Charge yet. He had still been at the Institute as of that morning, but would they take him, as well? While he liked to think of himself as a rather optimistic fellow at times, it was coming to a point where even the Scarecrow had to admit he was crumbling under the pressure- things were looking rather grim.

He opened the container beside him, idly rifling through the materials inside. The watch came out first, its movement halted during the night as it wound down. He turned the knob on the side, and the ticking resumed. Holding it to his ear, the Scarecrow listened to it for over a minute in some attempt to draw comfort from it. Though it wasn't a heart, the steady pulse gave him some grounding. He slipped it onto his wrist, taking a moment to work out the latch with his unsteady fingers.

Next into his lap was his hat, the one that had served him so well when he'd been made of straw. It felt too odd to wear it atop his head now that it was much sturdier than a burlap sack; he instead pushed the fabric through his fingers for a moment, bringing it to his nose and taking a deep breath. It was only then he recalled he couldn't fully identify the smell of it, having never needed to breath as a scarecrow. It was one he could only assume would have reminded him of Oz, of better times back home, of what he used to be. The hat stayed in his lap for now- even though it felt so foreign to him, it was still something that made him feel a little less human, which was a good thing in his mind.

Last out was something he didn't recall being in the box before. A broken ring? It looked an awful lot like the one Depth Charge had, but he was sure he'd given that one back. The air pushed itself out of him- he'd have to wait for his roommate to arrive to give it back.

Re: M42

[damned-soldiers.livejournal.com]

Oh, joy. The suspicion of the Eagle was the last curse anyone wanted on their person, and Claude had somehow incurred twice the amount. If he couldn't already spontaneously burst into flames, he might have feared turning to ashes from that one glare alone. Thankfully, he had managed to gain the man's approval, though it took convincing Cartwright to temporarily take his post.

She was a champ, wasn't she? Claude would say he owed her a dinner, but it would be some time before they could get an evening off. Besides, they had to be even by now, no? What with his initial assistance and...then some.

And all of it was building to a crux tonight. He was looking forward to this--Aguilar's anger aside.

The major reached M42, a spring in his steps and a hum in his voice. Without bothering with formalities of knocking or calling out, he immediately entered the room, looking to all the world the most atypical soldier in existence. "Good evenin', gentlemen!" he called. "I look-- Oh." Claude stared at the single lanky man in the room. "Only you're here."

M18

[ofthemotions]

By the time dinner rolled around, Mikado was starving. He wasn't a heavy eater, but just the same, going an entire day without food was starting to weigh on him. His stomach gurgled angrily and the boy pressed a hand to it, wincing. At least they had to have noticed that the food was bad earlier and traded it out. He'd be happy to eat that pink goo at this point. Anything to fill the gaping void that was growing....

Once he hit the room he was given, he sighed in some kind of relief, peeling off the hat and jacket and moving toward the tray on his desk. It was bright pink, even at a distance, and he felt himself relaxing. At least one thing would turn out well today. Mikado reached out to take it--Wait.

He stared down, disbelief and unamusement marring his features. He quietly closed his eyes, counted to ten, and opened them again. Still there. Still an unappetizing feast of mold and rot congealed on top of a bright pink mass. He dropped the spoon he had picked up, sighing, then trudged to his bed, falling face first onto it. "I give up," he muttered to himself. His stomach growled in reply.

F17

[diamondstorm]

If nothing else, the day had been informative. Each that she had spoke to had been intelligent and added to what she already knew. Even in the lack of movement, it was encouraging from the sheer fact of progress. Not much, yet enough.... Enough for now. Renamon would be satisfied with this.

And she would progress in some way tonight. Whether moving to the basement or the town, or even to the ruins again.... She would continue moving forward. Now she had only to wait until night fell. She shifted her smaller weapons onto herself, and then moved to where her food waited, and without hesitation, consumed most of it. She would need energy tonight, and she was not in the mind for waste.

F23

[witchoftruth]

Despite her brush with danger by exchanging fire with Scott, it seemed like Erika hadn't actually gotten into trouble. At least, she stopped herself from getting in too deep, if only because Sync had specifically asked her to bring her katana tonight. And he had went further to boss her around by telling her not to wear her lovely clothes, and to tie her hair... Pft, like she cared what he thought. For the time being, she'd obey two out of the three and took the sword from where it was standing against the dresser, laying it on her bed. Her clothes would also stay on, if only because Erika was once again feeling achey from doing all of that work. It was time to settle down and rest, and dinner? ... That would be optional. The gruel was disgusting no matter how hot or cold it was, so Erika settled for laying down on her bed, relaxing herself.

Since she was in this room, it was natural that her thoughts shifted to Julia, her strange roommate. Strange because Julia appeared to be doing the sensible thing and staying inside when the nights came, although she doubted that her roommate stayed sleeping for the entire night. Perhaps she had failed to properly fall asleep and had no choice but to stave off boredom by going out later. Maybe she was then eaten by something. How dreadful. Would someone new walk through the door today? If nothing else, Erika was curious about that, so despite her intention to rest, she kept her eyes staring at the door.

Maybe she should have tried to see if her privilege meant being able to roam about the building during this time period. It would have been interesting to see the building transform, but something told her that she wouldn't be able to get away with that, if only because she had an escort to take her to her room specifically. According to the intercom, something interesting was bound to happen...

What a shame. If it weren't for her own basement adventures, she might have been able to keep an eye on the military's business. Unfortunately, as interested as she was, Erika knew that Aguilar ultimately was not the master of this place. Therefore, her only business was with Landel... and the various puzzles he left in his place.

M63

[nobleman]

If circumstances had been different, Guy might have put more thought into the fact that Berg had suddenly replaced Harrington on the intercom. It was definitely something worth a few seconds' pondering, and yet he didn't have the time even for that. Guy was busy thinking over a number of other issues, such as Luke's return and the plan for him and his friends to head into the basement again tonight.

The most pressing matter was the fact that dinner had rolled around, though. That meant that he would finally get the chance to talk to Okita one-on-one. It had been tough for him to get anything out of his roommate when they had been in that morgue with a whole group of other people, but maybe now...

The really important thing was that Okita was all right, but Guy was still hoping to learn more about the circumstances behind his death. It wasn't just due to concern, but also because he wanted to be aware of all of the dangers out there.

Unfortunately, when Guy reached his room Okita wasn't there yet. After last night Guy had to admit he resented this room being empty, but he reminded himself that he'd seen Okita in bed this morning. He was fine; Guy had simply gotten here first tonight, that was all.

Even before sitting down to eat, Guy went over to the metal box that now held most of his belongings. He dug through it until he found the small item he was looking for: the bracelet made out of bone that the ferryman had given him and his friends. Once he'd made sure that that was where it should be, Guy felt he could relax just a little. Tear had said that she would watch over Luke, he'd set up a meeting place with Anise, everything was going smoothly.

It was for that reason that Guy did allow himself to sit down to his meal. He'd been served this one a few times by now -- if he recalled, Okita was fonder of this food than some of the other things they were served. That was good.

Re: M63

[notachick.livejournal.com]

He felt tired. Even after such an easy day, something was making him tired. The guard in charge of him insisted that he take a clear cup of pills before he entered his room and, fight as he might with him, the guard wouldn't budge. It was "for a fever" that Okita didn't think he had and for something else that Okita didn't understand. All he knew was that he didn't want to take them because taking those things had been what had landed him in the morgue. He only gave in when the guard said he was either taking them or he'd have it shoved down his throat.

The soldier's rudeness was the only chip on his shoulder when he entered the room, however. Seeing Guy again helped lift his spirits and, since there was no repetition of the strange pain from the previous night, Okita let himself relax a little. Wiping the annoyed look off his face, he stepped inside and smiled, knowing that was the expression Guy needed to see the most. "Good evening, Guy-san. I'm sorry for my tardiness."

He would have said what kept him, but decided against it, sitting down at his desk. The food was a welcome sight and the only meal in this place that he truly enjoyed other than the cream and fruit on the waffles thing. "How was your day?"

M7

[lighthearted]

Having spent the latter part of the day both getting club activities together and playing a game with a stranger (though she wasn't one anymore), Sora felt pretty good as he left the Game Room and started back to the patient blocks for dinner. Riku hadn't complained about him letting Kairi head off on her own tonight, which was good. The fact was that Kairi would be with Soma, who Sora trusted a lot after they'd taken down that Special Counseling patient in the Sun Room together.

Neku had also been a part of that fight, but Sora's friend (and roommate) had made it sound as if things had been pretty rough on him lately. Sora really hated hearing stuff like that, but he was going to get the full story from the other boy now.

In any case, Kairi would get to check out the records room like she wanted, he and Riku would get to keep exploring the forest (while Sora kept an eye on his friend, since he knew his leg had to be bugging him still), and everything would hopefully go as planned.

Tonight would also give him the chance to talk to Kratos again. He hadn't seen the man in a while, so that was definitely exciting. Not that Kratos was all that energetic, but he was loyal to the club and Sora thought highly of him because of that. It was hard to find reliable people in this place.

As he reached M7, Sora found it empty, which meant that Neku hadn't made it back yet. He tried not to fret too much over his friend, but that was basically impossible after their exchange on the bulletin earlier. With a sigh, Sora took a seat and started to eat his chicken. He wasn't worried enough to have lost his appetite, at least.

M21

[thesadist]

Today had been more productive than he'd hoped, although he'd been disappointed not to see his name on the list on the Sunroom Bulletin Board. Perhaps Sora would have something for him tomorrow. Tonight he was thinking about investigating that new wing that had opened up while he'd been gone. The map he'd copied from the board hadn't been updated with that information when he'd glanced at it, and quickly scribbled down a copy in his journal for his own reference.

Which reminded him...

With no sign of his roommate yet, Daemon stretched out on the bed, the pillow propped up behind his back for support, and took out his notebook, jotting down the things he knew as fact so far and adding the things he'd learned today.

F11

[lovecraftcomplex]

Rose wasn't looking forward to dinner. Both plates were filled to the brim with a mass that resembled nothing more so than the lovingly-etched depictions of slime mold in their various cultural manifestations. Rose tried not to look at it.

At least the stench had the side effect of ruining her appetite. Funny how she hadn't worried about food while racing against the clock before, but here the rituals of dining seemed to rule their days. It would soon be night, however, and as no one had, as of yet, come through the door to claim their attention, perhaps they could accomplish something after all.

Instead of eating, Rose pulled her meager arsenal out of the closet and began seeing if there was anything else she could weaponize.

M17

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Indy knew that voice: Berg. It sounded like Aguilar's army was taking the traitor situation seriously. The real question was what "reporting to your stations" meant for the soldiers--and the patients. Guards out tonight? That could make moving around difficult, although from the sound of it, that crowd had bigger fish to fry tonight than Indiana Jones.

Overthinking it wouldn't give him any new information, though; he'd just have to wing it when he got out there. For now, Indy eased out of the wheelchair and let the guard take it away while he settled carefully into his desk chair and began to eat (real food again--the Japanese menu was back). He wondered if his new roommate had heard the rumors about his demise.

[deathandgin]

Well. Well. A whole twelve hours without trying to kill anyone. Yeah, his hypothesis was officially something along the lines of... just wanting to kill Damon. Sure. Made sense, besides the whole drug-inducing-murder thing. He could get behind the rest. Or understand it, at least.

He left Billy in the sun room almost regretfully, just because he was the first guy Alaric had met in a while who wasn't a complete dick. Which probably meant he had some horrifying secret that would come up at the most inopportune moment if Alaric even happened to meet him again. Hopefully he wouldn't die. Oh, shit. He hadn't even asked if he was one of the new ones. Definitely look out for him tomorrow.

As for tonight... maybe he'd stay in. Just in case something else happened. Especially if something happened involved needles. He wasn't even going to take a chance with that -

Alaric stopped dead (good choice of words) in the doorway, ringed hand automatically tightening into a fist. Either Peter had been grossly misinformed, or.

Or.

"You're. Uh. Not dead."

It was a good point to make. Really.

M14

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

It was too early to tell whether Ema Skye's offer of assistance stemmed from her own experimental session or a misguided sense of duty where there was none. It mattered little to him. He knew the feeling of restlessness, the desire to act rather than to sit quietly by; it affected him more than he cared to admit. Besides, Search and Rescue was doing poorly enough these days that he was loath to refuse help in any form.

Perhaps Badd had been right; perhaps he was going in circles. Javert ruthlessly quashed that thought and turned to his dinner. They would do their job properly tonight, and he would think no more on the subject.

Re: M14

[tasteoftruth.livejournal.com]

Byrne would be expecting him tonight, Badd knew. And he also knew there was no way he should be around his best friend if he was so weak that the slightest bit of needles or wires could turn him into a killing machine in Aguilar's army. He had Lana as an excuse, anyway. They needed to go make sure the old bastard was really dead.

Badd stewed. He was less antagonistic towards Javert than he had been the previous night, now that he knew the extent of his own helplessness. "So no one's ever made it away from the staff before their session's done?" he tossed out, staring into his food bowl.

Might as well do something useful today.

M4

[inherited]

A strong part of Riku fought off the temptation to reply to Sora with his disapproval of the plan to remove them from Kairi's side. He knew that she wanted to go to the medical wing and even agreed that she deserved that chance, but neither of them wanted to bother with that. In his heart, he knew that she could possibly handle herself better than both him and Sora, but it twisted him up inside. It wasn't a good feeling. For more than a year, he followed her from a distance ensuring that she was all right. And now that they were here, he wasn't doing a very good job of keeping it up.

But in the end, he resisted. In the end, he managed to keep his thoughts to himself. His silence would probably bother Sora, but it was better than fighting him on it. Riku knew that Sora knew best.

So he suppressed his disappointment after his chat with the fort-building girl and went back to his room. Dinner was far from something he wanted, but given the lingering soreness in his leg and what was up ahead, he didn't want to be a burden. That feeling was enough for one night. Doing it all over again was bad enough.

Riku grabbed up his food and dropped into his bed to relax with it. It was the same bad stuff from the last couple of days, but he'd deal. He figured that it could be worse. Some of the things he managed for himself while traveling alone definitely were filed under that.

M41

[corvus-veritas.livejournal.com]

Byrne was actually thankful to get back to the room before Dr. McCoy tonight. It meant he'd have at least a few minutes to be completely alone. He wasn't feeling the least bit social anymore, despite having talked with someone who had been able to lift his mood a little. Everything was just weighing down on him so much that a quiet moment to himself actually sounded good for once.

... Oh, how kind of them. The food left on his desk was the same rotting slop as before - or at least, that's what it looked and smelled like. If the bulletin board had been any indication, however, it was all a hoax. Not like that alone would get Byrne to eat it, and the way his stomach was hurting wouldn't do the trick either. He let out a disgruntled sigh.

It was around that time that he noticed the metal box sitting on the desk beside his food. Well, this was new. He walked up to it and looked it over, noting the long number inscribed on the front. He then went to open it, naturally. And inside the box was...

...Badd's gun.

Byrne fell into the desk chair and stared quietly at the box and gun, dumbfounded. They just. Gave it back to him. So easily. How...could he even react to this.

Re: M41

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

McCoy wandered in a few minutes after and had to stop to take the room in. Byrne drooped in his chair over something, and staring at something on his desk, shoulders slumped, head down. Something tugged at him. It felt familiar, like McCoy had seen Byrne like this before. He probably had, a few days ago. Funny how you took just some clarity of mind and for once, not having your brain collapsing, as something for granted.

A letter. That was it last time, something about his daughter. McCoy sat down at his own desk, legs swung to the side, and looked at his roommate. Not a letter this time.

"What's wrong?"

M85

[vstheworld]

That had honestly been the exact kind of day Scott had needed. Indy was alive, Peter (and presumably everyone else in their party) was okay again, and he had spent an entire afternoon being five years old again. For a while, he hadn't been at Landel's, stupid uniforms and soldiers aside. Today had just been fun. Even nearly getting in trouble for the thing with Doom Girl had been fun. No one had gotten in "for real" trouble, and he had been able to have a good time with Woody to make up for what had happened with the food fight. Seriously, what wasn't to like about today?

And then Scott caught another glimpse of blue turning a corner into the female block as he was being escorted to dinner.

Okay, he was sure he'd seen something this time. Pretty sure, anyway. It wasn't Doom Girl again, either; this blue was lighter. Shorter, too. And something about it just kept pushing it back into his mind as he walked down the halls, even though he knew that couldn't possibly have been, you know, her. If there was one person he knew Landel's wouldn't give back to him until he escaped, it was her. That was just a given. No one was allowed to be that happy in Landel's. Stupid silly blanket forts was about as happy as things got, really...

Great, there was that negative spin he'd been hoping to avoid.

Think about food, think about food, Scott told himself as he was let into M85, stomach gurgling. He'd missed lunch in favour of working on that fort more. How much bread did he have left on the closet? He knew he still had plenty of that PB&J spread stuff. Which was awesome, by the way. Yes, more awesomeness in this day please, less missing girlfriend angst out of nowhere. Let's go with that, he thought, opening up his lockbox and rummaging through it for his dinner.