Day 61: Sun Room (third shift)

[witchoftruth]

The moment dear Landel-san announced that it was time for lunch, Erika wasted no time and headed straight for the Sun Room's bulletin board to check if there was any response to her message left for her dear friend. Predictably, there was nothing for her on the board, and the detective scowled as she realized she might have to write him off as a loss. She had lost a good number of potential allies in this place, but losing this one was a bit of a blow, if only because he had useful things on him. On the other hand, if he was gone, and that ring was still here...

Perhaps it was not a great loss, then. Still, Erika was mildly annoyed as she wandered away from the board and back towards a nearby couch. She was spending a lot of time in the Sun Room lately, which seemed to be a bit of a waste as she could have spent in going around the Institute. On the other hand, she had a sandwich here that was waiting to be consumed and after spending a week with little access to "real food", Erika was more then happy to enjoy her time spent eating.

Still, at some point she was going to have to manage her time a little more effectively. There was no reason why she couldn't multitask, so Erika kept her gaze on the door of the Sun Room so she could watch people filter in on their way to other rooms. She wouldn't get everyone, no, but perhaps she would find someone useful that she could bother for the rest of the shift. A familiar face, or maybe someone new. She'd decide on that eventually.

[ hau Seishin ready for round 2. /killed ]

Comments

[envy_the_sinners]

Free time was definitely welcome, especially after freezing outside at that field. He would have to meet up with Renji again at some point. Despite his mouth, he was tolerable to be around, it seemed. Scar entered the Sun Room, which was exactly how Lust had described it. He noticed the bulletin board she had mentioned, but didn't give it much interest.

Scar stretched out on a chair closing his eyes, strain slightly evident on his face and the sun warming his body. He was tired- both physically and mentally. So much had happened in so little time.

[Free!]

[railroadmenace]

Third shift saw Claire in a much happier mood than he'd been all day. Finally, something interesting was going to happen! This was great! If only he'd thought of this before, he wouldn't have been so bored. What a waste of time all that had been! It was simple, so simple, really. If there was no entertainment, he should just create some for himself, right? Obviously. That was how his world worked.

His nurse handed him his sack lunch a bit cautiously, as if he were some unpredictable landmine set to explode at the slightest touch. But of course, Claire barely noticed as he took the sack from her and didn't even grimace at the fact that she'd given him grilled cheese instead of chicken because the world was his and he was going to make it amazing.

Figuring that he might as well take advantage of the free shift and move from the Sun Room, he headed toward a random door when a new face passed by him. Claire stopped and stared as the man picked a chair and sat, closing his eyes. To any normal person, the dark-skinned man with the white hair and brooding face would have meant 'stay away.' But Claire was not, by any means, a normal person.

He changed his course and went back the way he came, coming to stand right in from the mysterious man, unabashedly staring.

"Whoa! What happened to your face?" As could be plainly seen, Claire was not the most tactful of people to grace this Institute.

[Hope this is okay!]

[envy_the_sinners]

Scar was first aware of the fact that someone was standing over him. Then the person spoke.

A combination of disgust, confusion, and anger blended into what was now the look on Scar's face. He was very used to people staring. Even the occasional stupid comment. But really? He made an aborted motion to stand up before realizing it probably wouldn't do him any good. He knew that even his typically intimidating frame probably wouldn't scare off this airhead.

Instead, Scar simply glared speechlessly at the offending party for several seconds, unblinking. His tone was harsh, a slight snap to it.

"It's none of your business." He looked away slowly, still unsure of what he had actually heard.

[Totally! As long as you don't mind a pissed off Scar! hehe]

[unpriest]

Seishin had been spending his time wandering the side of the field, idly watching the patients partaking in the recreational activities. The conversation with Silvestri-san earlier this morning regarding the basement hadn't done anything to ease his worries, and as the day passed they only grew worse. The offering of blood and the fact they had all passed out bothered him. It did not bode well at all, did it?

The nurse came, and the former priest requested to be taken back inside. However, she wanted to make sure that her charge wouldn't retreat in solitude for a second time in a row and once they had arrived in the Sun room she promptly dragged him over to a familiar face on the couch. He had met the self-proclaimed detective yesterday, ironically also because a nurse dragged him over. The conversation hadn't been very pleasant, something the nurse was completely oblivious to as she pressed a lunch bag into the novelist's hands, emphasizing that he had to eat all of it before leaving them alone.

Indeed, his only wishes did not matter. Nor could he be trusted with food, he thought darkly to himself. But none of it showed on his features; Sotoba had at least been good for masking his thoughts and feelings.

"Furudo-san," he started. Though the girl was still a teenager, Seishin had the feeling she wouldn't have liked to be referred to by the 'chan'-honorific. "I hope you've been doing well?"

A polite question, but not entirely insincere. Their first conversation hadn't gone well, but that didn't mean the former priest immediately wished disaster to befall on her.

i am sorry for my extreme slowness

[witchoftruth]

As if answering her pleas for someone more interesting to show up, a nurse came to deliver a familiar man to her. The nurses had the idea that Erika was a sociable girl who enjoyed company, but it wasn't like she was going to change their opinion on that and smiled back at Seishin. Their first talk hadn't gone entirely well, but it was cordial enough. Maybe this time, she'd be able to get something out of him.

At the very least, she could ask him if he saw the green haired brat that had been haunting her for the past day or so.

"I suppose so," She shrugged, not bothering to hide what was bothering her since it related to what she wanted to ask next. "Maybe you've been doing better, Seishin-san. Have you seen a green haired boy, a little taller then myself, with green eyes?" Her description was a little lacking, but at the same time, Erika hadn't exactly seen too many people who looked like Sync around either. "I'm worried he might be gone."

She supposed it was best if Seishin made the assumption that her concern was for his safety rather then making sure he was still around so she could kick his ass for ditching her.

It's fine <3

[unpriest]

The response wasn't as positive as one might have hoped for. As it was, Erika immediately revealed what was bothering her. So she was worried about someone, then. Considering the nature of this place, it was hardly surprising to be concerned for someone's well-being.

Seishin looked thoughtful for a moment, wondering if he had seen someone fitting that description, but shook his head. "My apologies, but I'm afraid I haven't."

[vulpinisms]

Although he had his coat with him, Kurama was glad to go back inside. What little sun there had been earlier had disappeared, as well. Again, this was one of those times he wished he still had fur. His nurse, now the one he'd had yesterday, came to fetch him just as the intercom started up with another announcement for the end of the shift. It was to be another free shift for lunch. The talk about therapy shifts registered in his mind for a moment, but he eventually dismissed it. This was supposed to be a mental institute, wasn't it? Therapy sessions were normal. Kurama himself hadn't been called to one yet, but seeing as he hadn't run into any trouble yet with pretending to go along with the Institute's daytime act, he decided he could deal with it if and when it came. He had other things to worry about.

His nurse led him back to the Sun Room and handed him a bag (chicken; she remembered his preference from yesterday), and then left him to his own devices. The first thing Kurama did was head to the bulletin board to check for any new responses or posts that might be important.

There were new replies to the Arts & Crafts club, an interesting request by a person called '667', as well as several other posts that piqued his interest. Kurama wondered if there was any way he could get information about the history of the institute. Perhaps it would lead to figuring out how the institute had managed to get them here, which would lead to figuring out how to get out. So far, there was no post yet from the person called 'Rita Mordio' about different technology, or from the History Club. He also had yet to see anything from the Search & Rescue club he had heard about.

He was playing a potentially risky game, he knew, by employing different personas on the board. Having aliases practically screamed that he had something to hide -- and that was correct, Kurama did have something to hide. He'd spent all day devoting one portion of his concentration to hiding his aura and using the rest for information gathering. As he'd said on the board, he wanted to keep a low profile, but at the same time, he wanted to slip into as many corners as he could so he could know as much as there was to know. And that was the risky part. He hadn't been here long enough to know what consequences there were if he were found out. And this was only the first part of the process. Ideally, once he had gathered enough information, he'd make his move.

In any case, he made his round of the bulletin board, storing interesting information where he found it and replying where he saw fit to. Then, he took his sack lunch with him to an empty seat in the Sun Room. He still hadn't eaten anything from the Institute and he could feel the eyes of the doctors and nurses watching from above. This 3rd shift marked the fact that he had now been here for an entire day. How long would he be able to avoid eating?

[Guy]

[nobleman]

It had definitely been a good thing that he'd gotten the chance to talk to Claude today, seeing how they had discussed the whole problem with Ilia and also set things up for the coming night. Guy had a good feeling about their chances tonight. He knew they always tried their hardest, but he always felt better when he had things planned out ahead of time.

Despite all that, though, he had to admit he was relieved when they were allowed back inside. It had been pretty cold out there, which wouldn't have been a problem if he'd been doing some sort of physical activity. He and Claude had just been standing and talking, though, which meant he was eager to heat up again now.

As Guy was led back into the main area of the institute (at least for the daytime activities) and handed a bagged lunch, he tried to figure out where he should go next. He didn't have anything in particular that he needed to accomplish now that he'd spoken with Claude, but he didn't want to squander the chance to go where he wanted.

Well, first things first. He was already in the Sun Room, so checking the bulletin would probably be a good idea. Maybe if he was lucky, Natalia would have left a response to the note that he put up this morning. That would ease some of his worries, at least.

As he walked across the room, he was distracted for a moment when he saw someone with red hair out of the corner of his vision. For a split second he thought it might be Luke, but when he got a better look he realized he'd been mistaken. He didn't want to make things awkward now that he was staring at the stranger, so he nodded to him before he kept walking.

[vulpinisms]

Though Kurama was again deep in thought, he still noticed when another patient paused and looked at him. He lifted his head a bit, giving a curious look back. He didn't recognize the man. Had he noticed something about him that was strange?

But then the man gave him a nod and continued walking. Kurama blinked. What had that been about? He took a glance around him just in case he'd been mistaken and the other man had been looking at someone else. It didn't seem to be the case.

What should he do? It was just curiosity really, but it wasn't like Kurama had anything else he was doing currently. Besides, he wasn't planning on eating his lunch, but sitting here doing nothing felt a bit too overt, just a bit. On the other hand, if he were talking to someone, he wouldn't look quite so strange to onlooker's eyes. Besides, he was still on the hunt for information. He hadn't yet learned enough that he would need to narrow down the spectrum of things he was looking into.

So Kurama stood up and followed after, hoping that he wasn't drawing too much attention from the nurses. Maybe he should move out of the Sun Room. There weren't enough patients here to distract from himself and the presence of people constantly watching from the balcony above made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He wasn't going to be able to relax at all.

He caught up quickly enough. "Ah, hello," he said quietly. "May I join you?"

[thesadist]

Daemon took his bagged lunch from his nurse and made his way to the Sunroom. He still felt chilled from the previous shift outside, but the daylight had been nice at least. He grabbed a chair and sank down near one of the large windows, legs stretching out in front of him, ankles crossed as he dug into the bag to pull out a grilled cheese sandwich with a skeptical look. At least this was still better than the pink gruel, he admitted with relief.

[Calling this meeting of psychopaths and their redheaded boyfriends to order!]

[strayfag]

Bagged lunches. Man, it was like being in highschool all over again, except he didn't have to pack his own lunch when he wanted one and then defend it like feral stray until he managed to wolf it down.

And also unlike highschool, he was pretty amiable to the idea of company for lunch. Sometimes it was a pain, but it usually took his mind off... well, being here, and all the lovely alternatives. And admittedly, he was losing friends faster than he was making them, and that probably wasn't a good thing in the long run.

The sunroom was pretty empty when he arrived, but not entirely devoid of familiar faces. Huh. Why not?

"Hey. Daemon, right? I'll trade ya." He held out his chicken sandwich and tried to look endearing. "Cheese makes you fat anyway."

[thesadist]

Daemon glanced up at the voice, a bit surprised to see the man he'd been thinking of in the previous shift. "Well. That's a coincidence. I was just talking about you," Daemon replied, sounding amused. He eyed Badou's chicken sandwich with a curious look. "Why didn't you just ask for a cheese sandwich if you wanted that instead?" he pointed out, then had some pity on the man, holding out his unopened sandwich with a wry smile. "Here, take it if you prefer. I think either would taste as good for me."

[fourstonewalls]

Lana had wandered into the library, but after a few moments she wandered back out with a book in her hand to the Sun Room. She'd tucked it down under her arm, by her hip, as she'd passed Harvey -- he didn't need to know she'd bypassed a raft of classics, including Doyle's oeuvre, for a little thriller whose grip on the legal process might be charitably called naive.

Then again, the truth wouldn't make for much of a story, after all. It mattered to the people caught up in it, but from the outside it was a boring, often sordid, mess. There had been a few exceptions; Hollywood was too nearby for there not to be, but once the luster faded from a star, even a three-day trial was beyond most people's attention span.

There were plenty of armchairs, and Lana claimed one, along with an end-table, and spread her lunch out on the latter while parking herself more neatly in the former.

[free!]

[overlimit]

Well, that had gone pretty well. While Rita had to be a little skeptical of Rapunzel's claims about her abilities, the fact that it was a fairly consistent story made it admittedly plausible. Perhaps if Rita or one of her acquaintances got injured in the future, she could call on her for a demonstration.

With a new shift came a new appointment. Up next was a doctor (of what, she wondered) who claimed his magic could 'grant wishes'. Sounded pretty phony, but considering how Rita just got back from having a serious discussion about magic hair? She figured she could at least hear the guy out.

Since they hadn't specified a meeting place, Rita supposed it would make the most sense to wait by the bulletin board in the Sun Room. She'd given her physical description to the man she was meeting, so hopefully he'd find her before long.

When she reached the board, Rita started looking over the notes. Nothing from the History Club yet, it looked like. And now that she thought about it, she'd promised to start a new magic discussion. Rita grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, figuring she might as well start on that while she waited.

[Doctor Facilier!]

[doctor_voodoo]

Having missed breakfast, Facilier's hunger pangs had nearly become intolerable once the afternoon came around. Despite being on the verge of starving, the pathetic lunch bag he was given by a nurse didn't exactly receive the most enthusiastic gratitude from him. Facilier didn't feel he was the fitting age to be given something that was usually reserved for school children. Yet he could only glare at the nurse's back and sulk over his sandwich. This institute just couldn't leave one's dignity unmolested now could it?!

Either way, the hunger issue was now finally solved. With that out of the way, Facilier had planned to keep away from any irritating social interactions for the rest of the day until night came, but he remembered that he had booked an appointment with someone on the bulletin board... Someone who sounded to be quite the privileged magic user. Such a person was considered to be a potential threat or benefit to Facilier, and an investigation on the matter became priority over much-needed peace and quiet.

So with that decided, Facilier wandered about the halls and rooms which he was allowed to explore under the nurse's surveillance. He quietly ate his sandwich as he did so, keeping an eye out for someone with short, reddish brown hair...

It didn't take long before the Bokor returned to the Sun Room. The place was still full of mewling cats, much to his chagrin, but it wasn't long before he spotted a head of hair with the same color as was described on the message board.

The owner of the hair turned out to be a young girl, much younger than Facilier had expected. She was just barely tall enough to reach the bulletin board she stood by. The Shadow Man paused for a moment, wondering if he had not found the right person, but the girl was so far the only one he had seen with that hair length and color... She must have been the Rita he communicated with through the notes then. By now Facilier had to expect anything from anyone, no matter their outward appearance, as he had learned from Rapunzel that one night...

Nearly adjusting his absent hat out of pure habit, Facilier could only push his hair back a little before striding towards the girl with his usual friendly mask drawn over his face. First impressions were always important, even if he was stuck in a less than dignified uniform consisting of grey garbs and slippers.

"Ah, Miss Mordio, I presume?" Facilier greeted with a smile once he approached the short youth, "I am Doctor Facilier, we spoke on the bulletin board the other day..."

[overlimit]

Rita had only just finished writing the note when a tall man approached, greeting her by name. He was giving her a friendly smile, which Rita didn't return. Instead, she simply nodded to confirm her identity. "That's right. We should probably find somewhere to sit."

She looked back to the bulletin board and stuck her note to an empty space. Then, she picked up the lunch bag she'd set aside and started walking toward a space with chairs and a table, settling into one of the armchairs there.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to get right down to business," she began, facing the man as she fished around in the lunch bag with her hand. "I'm a magic scholar, and I want to know as much as possible about the different kinds of magic around here. What can you tell me about your abilities?"

[tasteoftruth]

Well, that was fun. Badd wondered if Byrne had gotten the same treatment, he'd have to ask him about it tonight. For now he just needed a little...me-time.

No, not like that. Just time to sit and think. The institute seemed heavily invested in the illusion during the day, despite the fact that at night they didn't seem to much care. Even the board was censored to prevent them revealing the true nature of the institute, but not taken down completely as they might due to simply block communication. So they weren't trying to fool the patients, or the nurses...

Badd's eyes widened. Then someone else had to be watching. They were pulling the wool over someone's eyes, just not someone they could see. But who and why? Ah, but it was getting somewhere.

[herr_inspektor]

They'd made a reasonable start last night, and Lunge was satisfied with what they had achieved- as satisfied as he could be, that was, considering that he'd overslept. There was little point in lingering on the past, though, and he was already preparing for what lay ahead. It was already obvious that they would have to face a trial of some sort when they finally managed to put their sword and shield into place, and there remained that niggling, unpleasant thought that it would be centered around combat. Jones had died, after all. But Jones seemed to have some sort of experience in that area.

L had been willing to take that risk, of course. It was unlikely that the man hadn't already decided for himself that there was a high chance that they would have to fight in some capacity. But had either of them entirely prepared themselves for the possibility of dying at the end of it? A risk was only worth taking if it came with the possibility of a reward, and right now they had nothing to aim for- no chalice to collect at the end of it all.

Only the possibility of learning what Dent had been unable to tell him.

Lunge didn't even glance at the nurse as she dropped him off, instead focusing his attention on bulletin board- nothing to report, though that didn't mean much with censorship enforced again. A man stood next to him, older than he was, with dark, scruffy hair and a beard, and the tall, broad build of someone used to taking punches without a blink. He tilted his head. "Excuse me. Do you know if Marc made contact last night?"

[tasteoftruth]

Badd looked up from his musings to see a gaunt, sharp-featured man staring at him like Manfred von Karma back from the dead and on a diet. It put Badd off almost immediately. He hated guys whose eyes seemed too piercing, they tended to pierce all the wrong people.

"Hm?" Marc? Who, the guy from the radio? Badd had been too concerned with Byrne the past few nights to even consider what messages might be coming through from the outside world. "Don't know, didn't check. I was busy." Badd shrugged and went back to watching the room. "He a friend of yours?"

[diamondstorm]

When the shift changed, Renamon remained, staying to mull over the changes and wonder if possibly there was a better way to approach people that were adverse to the more controversial topics. In essence, she hadn't touched the surface with Barnaby--had not mentioned monsters, other worlds, the details of the experiments, the fact of half of the populace not being human--but the simple fact of the institute not being what it was and the details about the military had been enough.

She needed to rethink her methods if she was going to continue to inform the newer people who showed up.

That said, the Digimon took to a couch, and intermittently glanced at the bulletin board. Nigredo still had her notebook, and while she didn't need it, it seemed odd to be without. Ah, well. Renamon slid her eyes shut, bowing her head lightly as she evened her breathing. Mediation, at least, was always something useful.

[ Byrne! ]

[corvus_veritas]

Oh thank god, it was next shift. Byrne had never been so relieved to hear an intercom announcement in his life. No more awkward therapy time for him today. Yesss.

Kind of a shame, though. Professor Layton seemed like a really nice guy, someone Byrne wouldn't have minded getting to know better if he were a fellow prisoner rather than one of the Institute's pet doctors. That was assuming he was actually following Landel's orders and not just some poor guy who honestly believed everyone here was nuts. Either way, Byrne had sympathy for him...just not during therapy.

But that was last shift, and this was this shift. Once again, lunch was another free roaming shift, unsurprisingly. Landel was almost trying too hard with this whole 'being nice' thing. Well, might as well enjoy this shift for what it was and forget about whatever intentions Landel had for doing this. Byrne decided to hang out in the Sun Room this time, partly so he could visit the bulletin board more conveniently should there be anything interesting on there and mostly because it just happened to be one of the nicer areas of the Institute during the day. It was quiet enough to relax in (usually), but not deserted as far as patient population went.

Speaking of other patients, the prosecutor noticed two of them he knew as he wandered around looking for a good place to sit - Badd and Renamon, in two separate places. The former he considered visiting first, until he remembered that he hadn't spoken with the latter since two nights ago versus the one night ago he'd been with the former. So he would visit Renamon this shift instead. (He'd most likely see Badd later today or tonight, anyway.)

Upon approaching her, however, Byrne noticed she had her eyes closed. Was she napping? He didn't want to disturb her if she was...or maybe she was just lost in thought. Guess it couldn't hurt to ask. "Hey, Renamon. Mind if I join you?"

[survives]

Reluctantly, Leanne left the Greenhouse (and all those absolutely beautiful flowers) when the shift ended. At that very moment, it was one of the very last things she'd have rather done, but the nurse that came for her was insistent. Next thing she knew, the nurse had her out of there and back inside the building with a bagged lunch, after being informed she had another free range shift.

"Then why didn't you just let me stay there?" she mumbled to herself as she stepped into the Sun Room, still clutching the bag tightly. Maybe she could go back later. Not that particular night-- she'd already made plans to meet Renamon tonight, but as soon as she possibly could...

Leanne huffed out a breath, shaking her head. There were other things she needed to focus on too. There was no way she'd be able to just spend all her time in this place inside the Greenhouse.

Putting the thought aside for the moment, she took a quick look at the bulletin board. However, nothing on it caught her eye and she found herself instead heading for one of the couches.

She could at least be comfortable during her lunch, right?

[Zero!]

[dividedby]

Funny... For once, a shift passed by quicker than usual, and the once-Reploid found the change to be quite disappointing. He'd finally been able to meet another prisoner here who was in the same situation as him, and the time he had to speak with the man was too little to get to really know him. When Zero felt like he was learning something, his nurse appeared to take him away. Without a doubt, he had to make sure to meet Sechs again soon. There were too many questions he hadn't gotten the chance to ask...

For now, though... It was time to replenish his energy during another free roaming period. Once again, he let his nurse choose the meal for him; the two options given made little difference to someone like him, who barely knew enough human foods to really care one way or the other. Once the choice of meal was settled, Zero took the bag lunch and wandered into the Sun Room, mainly to see if anything of value was posted on the bulletin board. He hadn't actually checked it yet today, being too busy with map updating and being led around like a child to find the time.

And...another disappointment. There was little of interest to find on the board right now. Though that might be a good thing, if it meant few to no horrific events occurred last night or otherwise. Hm. Then again, no newsworthy events might be suspicious, too... He'd have to keep his guard up.

With there being nothing to see at the board, Zero began searching for a place to sit and eat quietly. As he looked around, he saw someone he recognized - Leanne. How was she holding up? Though it seemed like little had happened in the Institute since the last time he'd spoken to her, it would be worth it to check in with her anyway, to see if she was alright if nothing else. So he walked over to her, nodding his head slightly in greeting once he reached her. "Leanne... Are you doing well?"

[ryuuzaki]

Something disturbed L's sleep—he dreamed of a swarm of bees that formed themselves into the shape of a lumbering man, twice life-size, buzzing with anger. A gust of wind dispersed the insects, and the skeleton of the man clattered to the ground, dry old bones sounding against each other.

He murmured, fussed, and rolled onto his side to face the wall.

The lack of windows made it hard to tell what time it was when he woke up, but he knew that it was late and that he had probably missed at least part of breakfast: Orihara was nowhere to be seen, and the corridor outside of his room seemed quiet, in contrast to the bustle he could expect if it were still early.

He sat up, blinking, then raised one hand to his head and rubbed his scalp, his fingers brushing against the fine, smooth scar on the back of his head. None of it dispelled his drowsiness, but time would probably take care of that. He flexed his toes, then slid his feet into the slippers that waited beside the bed, then moved to take the journal and a pen from the desk drawer. He was interrupted by the intercom.

Lunch...? It's even later than I thought. Landel seemed to be sticking to his new meal plan, for the time being. That meant that L had missed access to the fruit at the salad bar for the entire day... still, the meal itself would be tolerable, if he took the cheese sandwich.

He was more troubled by the fact that he had missed at least two opportunities for conversations: he still wanted to talk to Jones, and he wanted to find Daemon, to learn what he could about the encounter Daemon had had two nights earlier. If other people got to them first, he'd have to postpone, and in doing so, he might lose the chance to get the information at all.

At least we were able to accomplish something last night. It wasn't much of a breakthrough, but it was the most he had been able to manage in days. He had a nagging feeling that if he had approached this as a regular case rather than an involuntary one, it would have been wrapped up by now with very little personal cost to him. That was as irritating as anything else. They might have saved his life by pulling him away from the Kira case, but they had put him into a situation that was hard for him to tolerate. It required the constant suppression of annoyance and anger on a level he had never attempted in the past.

The nurse appeared a moment later to lead him to the Sun Room, where he took his bagged lunch. Apart from the items Landel had mentioned, the bag also contained a small lollipop, cream soda flavored, a familiar American style with a waxed paper wrapper. Not bad, but this couldn't possibly constitute the "changes" that the doctor had mentioned so ominously.

He glanced around the room again, and something stood out: there weren't many people in the Sun Room. A "free shift"... it sounds like we're being given a choice, but I don't think many of us would choose to be here at all... the choice is illusory. It's a way for Landel to present himself as magnanimous. In actuality, allowing patients to choose one of half a dozen places to spend the next hour or two, and combining that license with the fact that we're escorted everywhere and therefore can't simply search for someone until we find them, greatly inhibits our ability to strike up conversations, especially those that haven't been planned ahead of time. It scatters us. It makes us less of a threat, whether in theory or in practice. He had a sense that the most cynical interpretation possible would usually be the correct one. That wasn't always true, but it was often true, and until he was free of the Institute, he might as well consider it a rule to live by.

He saw a man who he thought might be Daemon, but that man was already deep in conversation with someone else. Jones didn't appear to be around, and there was no way of knowing which of the other areas he might have chosen, so that avenue was also a temporary dead end. Lunge was here, talking to the older man L had met a few days earlier, but L's third choice, Edgar, was nowhere to be seen, and the bulletin board held nothing of pressing interest.

With a sigh, he found a seat on one of the sofas and took the cheese sandwich out of the paper bag, waiting for something to turn up.

["Something" = another Japanese kid who wants to save the world by killing a lot of people. Hi, Niikura!]

[oneman_onekill]

And that something would turn up when he wanted to, thank you very much. After braving the chill outdoors and a curious conversation, Niikura was ready for a side of lounging to go with his lunch. He accepted the bag from the nurse eagerly and then brushed off her suggestions that he check out one of the activity rooms. Like he'd want to distract himself from the wonder and glory that was food...yeah right.

There were a lot of people already in the Sun Room by the time he'd come back from returning his outdoor clothes to his room, but they hadn't taken over all the sofas yet, and he eagerly flopped into the nearest one with a sigh of satisfaction. And now, the moment he had been waiting for: he opened the bag slowly, drawing out the crinkle of the paper as long as he could before fishing the cheese sandwich out and unwrapping it. It could be an art form, eating; he had certainly perfected it.

Niikura happily took a large bite and chewed away as he kept his eye on the people surrounding him. There was Badd, talking to some other old geezer, and his partner chatting up some girl. It was funny, the contrast in their conversational choices, although he knew that they were not necessarily voluntary. Anyone else he knew...? Ah, Lana Skye right over there. All the lawyers and cops he could possibly want, hanging out in the same room, presumably because they too had better things to do than feign musical skill or try arts and crafts.

His eyes finally fell on the man seated next to him on the sofa. What drew his attention first was the man's face: untidy black hair, large eyes, dark circles under aforementioned eyes (He didn't sleep much? Or did he just like eyeshadow?), pale complexion...sort of like a ghost. Except this one had a cheese sandwich.

"Heh, these are pretty good, huh?" Niikura asked cheerfully, waving his half-eaten sandwich lightly in his hand.