Day 65: Arts & Crafts Room (Fourth Shift)

[unpriest]

Seishin didn't have the opportunity to visit the arts and crafts room before, but handicraft wasn't something the former priest had ever been particularly skilled at. He would have been content with remaining in the library, but the nurse insisted that he'd pursue a more social activity than something so isolating as reading a book. Pushing one's own ideas of what was good for them onto others was not something limited to just Sotoba, he guessed, and in the end Seishin had little choice but to quietly follow along.

The room was still empty when Seishin entered, leaving him with little else to do but eying the materials with relative uncertainty.

[Dr. Facilier]

Comments

[freewill]

Castiel couldn't be sure that he'd gotten through to Aigis in any clear way, but he wished the girl well, not interested in seeing what would happen to her if she didn't take some sort of action regarding her condition soon. There was only so much he could do at the moment, though, and he tried to ignore the fact that he would have been able to heal every last patient if he'd been at his full power.

The Arts and Crafts room was where the adults were being sent for the last portion of the day, and Castiel didn't resist being led there. He needed to speak with Kratos before night came, and the man was going to be forced into this room as well, eventually.

If he'd been feeling a little better, Castiel might have indulged his curiosity and at least looked over some of the crafting ingredients, but at the moment it was hard enough putting one foot in front of the other. On top of his stomach cramps, which had been persistent throughout the day, he seemed to be switching between feeling dizzy or shaking for no reason.

Sitting down was for the best for that reason. Laying down probably would have been better, but that chance wouldn't come until dinner. Of course, dinner was going to bring plenty of other things as well...

What if he changed as soon as night came? Then all of this effort would be for nothing. And would Kobayashi be able to handle something like that? The man had performed well enough when his friend had been injured, but Castiel didn't really know what his roommate was capable of. Also weighing on his mind was someone calling themselves Gabriel over the bulletin board, who had been able to write back to him in Enochian but behaved nothing like the brother he knew. Suffice to say, Castiel was lost in thought as he waited for Kratos to show himself.

[For Kratos and Loki.]

[forsworn]

He'd ended up dozing off as he'd hoped after lunch, so Kratos was able to feel at the very least ambivalent about "expressing his creativity". Actually, he seemed to be doing it a lot lately...

There weren't that many people in the Arts and Crafts room yet, and at first, he considered just finding a corner where he could sit out the shift and draw some more sector sketches to pass the time, but then he spotted Castiel. By now, it was fairly clear what they had found in the X-Ray room last night, but Kratos felt it was still a good idea to talk things over with Castiel anyway and get his opinion on the situation.

"How are you feeling today?" He sat down next to the other man with his usual piece of white construction paper and black marker in hand. Castiel looked like he had a few things on his mind, so both would probably go unused. Still, it wasn't ever a bad idea to have contingency plans.

[freewill]

It was almost as if they'd read each other's minds. Castiel glanced up as Kratos approached, relieved to see him in general, but also to see that the man didn't look too injured. He wasn't noticeably limping or covered in bandages anywhere that Castiel could see, at least.

Not that the point of this conversation was a lighthearted one, but Castiel wasn't one to aim for brevity in the first place. At Kratos' question, he held back a sigh and shook his head. "The symptoms are only getting worse. I want to deal with this tonight, if possible."

He had spotted the piece of paper and the marker that Kratos was holding, and wondered if there was anything to that or if it was only meant to be a distraction or a way to throw the nurses off their actual purpose here. While Castiel would have liked to jump into the real subject at hand, he had learned a thing or two about manners. "How did you and Flynn manage, in the end?"

[forsworn]

Kratos smiled thinly. "We both came out a little worse for the wear, but all things considered, it could have been much worse." Really, what had saved them from further destruction was the miraculous connection of his attack. That had knocked Lingormr off balance long enough for the night to end without a counter. "Even so, I'd prefer to avoid a similar fight in the near future."

He uncapped the marker and began a sketch. It wasn't anything significant, just a little distraction to please the nurses, even if military strategy probably wasn't what they wanted out of their patients. "I saw the drawing on the board. What's your plan?"

[freewill]

Worse for the wear wasn't so bad in the grand scheme of things, and so Castiel dubbed that acceptable. Of course, all three of the other people in his group last night had been heading into that danger for the sake of those who were sick rather than themselves, so the fact that they were injured at all was a shame. Still, apologies wouldn't do much good at this point.

"Lingormr won't be picked for that sort of treatment again, if I understand the way it works correctly," he said after a pause. He was still uncertain about what the man had told him about his so-called magic. If only he had all his senses about him, he could settle that question for certain.

That was the least of his concerns at the moment, though. Kratos was getting to the meat of things, and Castiel wasn't about to let the chance pass him by. "My plan is to remove whatever is inside me," he said after a brief pause. "But I'll need some assistance. Would you be willing to help?" He wasn't sure how he'd decided on Kratos as the best person for the job. Perhaps because they were both soldiers and had been in situations like this before. Maybe because from what he could tell, the man knew his way around a sword. Either way, he didn't think it was the wrong choice.

[forsworn]

"I believe that's how it works, yes," Kratos said with a nod. He'd never been picked again for Special Counseling, and it had been over a month, which, given the turnover rate in patients, was like the equivalent of several lifetimes at Landel's.

It still wasn't much consolation, though. There were surely other patients out there with power comparable to Lingormr who had yet to be selected, and with them, more scars to be gained...

...but that was hardly the most pressing issue on the table at the moment. Kratos's marker froze on the paper as he slowly digested just what Castiel was asking him to do. It sounded straightforward in his mind, and he really had no doubt in his ability, but all the same, the last time someone had asked for his sword's assistance in this manner, it had resulted in a tragedy from which he had still to recover nearly twenty years later.

Castiel wasn't asking to be killed, though. That was the key difference that he needed to keep straight in his mind.

"I'm honored to deserve your confidence," he finally replied, turning to face Castiel. "I'll help. I should be able to do something about the aftermath as well." His magic was weak, but cuts were the easiest things for him to deal with. Provided he didn't make a mess of the initial operation, he'd be able to prevent Castiel from bleeding to death.

[dualistic]

While Harvey had managed to enjoy a quiet shift in the library and actually read something during it, that wasn't about to last. A nurse came up to him as the intercom sounded and told him that he would need to move to the Arts and Crafts room. The very idea of putting adults in a place like that still seemed pointless to him, but there wasn't much room to argue. He'd already spent most of the second shift in the Sun Room, so his nurse wasn't going to let him get away with that again.

He arrived to a fairly quiet room, but he knew it wasn't likely to stay that way. The patients who had made it here before him all looked like they were in their own little worlds, and it was hardly his place to bother them.

With no interest in glitter or cardboard paper or plastic scissors, Harvey bypassed all of that and took a seat at an empty table. He wasn't sure how Landel had confused a mental institute with a summer camp, but that was honestly pretty low on his list of questions.

[For Lana.]

[nobleman]

While the previous shift had been useful because they had been able to fill in Luke on what was going on, there hadn't much a much greater point to it than that. Guy still didn't know what their final goal was going to be with handling this illness, especially since Tear was nowhere to be found. Why was it that the one time they needed a healer desperately, no one seemed to be willing?

As Guy was shuffled back indoors from the courtyard and led toward Arts and Crafts, he tried to think of any other healers he'd spoken to during his time here, but nothing was coming to mind. Either he'd been bad about keeping up with contacts or healers really were that rare. Trying to find someone now who wasn't already tapped out was probably near to impossible.

With all that in mind, it was difficult not to start thinking about the worst case scenario, which was that Anise and Claude (and even people like Leanne) would start changing into monsters and he'd be powerless to stop it. Maybe the smartest thing would be to lock them up in a place where they wouldn't be able to hurt themselves or anyone else. That just seemed equal to giving up.

One more shift, and then dinner would come and they'd have to face the night, prepared or not. At this point Guy just needed to cross his fingers and hope that Anise and Claude would last through another night, so they would have more time to get this all sorted out.

He hadn't quite realized that he'd fallen into a pattern of just wandering the Arts and Crafts room aimlessly as he thought through everything.

[For Ilia.]

[avengingfists]

Ilia had enjoyed her time in the game room. Lunch was pretty good and she was still feeling fresh from the morning shower. Last night may not have been a success, but that didn't mean that future prospects weren't going to shape up. Not that Ilia would say she was enjoying this place. Quite the contrary. The institute had simply become liveable. Ilia felt she had her military background and new friends to thank for that.

Since she was in such a decent mood, Ilia thought that perhaps the scheduled activity would be fine enough to indulge. She did a quick scan of the room but Anise was absent, which was expected but sad all the same. Ilia had first met the girl during an Arts & Crafts shift, and they had struck up an easy friendship right from the get-go. It would have been fun to share that experience again, even if origami paper wasn't a typical staple of the small art room.

There was another Aulderantian available, though, so Ilia made her way over to Guy. She had something she wanted to ask him, anyway.

Remembering how the last meeting with him in the room had been a bit too surprising, Ilia made an effort to move around into his line of sight before moving too close. "Hey, Guy! How are you today?"

[nobleman]

A familiar voice caused Guy to stop in his tracks, glancing over to see Ilia standing in front of him. With everything that Claude and Anise had been going through, Guy had to admit that he'd been seeing in tunnel vision lately, and so Ilia hadn't crossed his mind in some time. Despite that, it was good to see her.

And more than that, to see her looking so healthy. He realized that this was the first shift of the day that he'd be speaking to someone who wasn't ill.

"Ilia," he greeted with a brief smile, finally snapping out of the random strolling he'd been doing around the area to lead them to an empty table so that they could sit. "It's good to see you. I'm fine, but I can't say the same for some of my friends." Her son included. Did Ilia even know about Claude's condition? Chances were that the younger man had done his best to keep it to himself, but these were special circumstances, weren't they? Ilia was his mother, even if she didn't know it...

"How about you?" he asked in return as he took a seat. "Did the stuff in the basement ever pan out?" He was hoping the answer to that was no, and it was likely since Ilia looked so cheerful, but he'd have to wait and see.

[avengingfists]

"I'm sorry to hear that about your friends..." Ilia had to wonder which ones he was referring to. Maybe that boy, Luke, was also carrying the bug Landel had talked about going around? None of her mutual acquaintances with Guy had said anything about being ill.

She took a seat next to him, scooting up to the table. She picked up a marker, just to have something in her hand while they talked. The basement was brought up, and suddenly Ilia's happy feeling was dampened. "Actually... We finished up in there a few nights ago."

Ilia cringed at the memory of Rose's own needles being stabbed through her chest... But she was fine now. Come to think of it, Guy, Claude and Anise had all been in the same basement group before, hadn't they? Ilia felt her stomach twist painfully at the thought of any of those three being sent to a similiar fate. And who had been forced to kill who? Who had been left on the sidelines to watch?

She cleared her throat, hoping to change the subject to something lighter. "Uh, s-so I noticed you and Claude caught the movie yesterday! Did you enjoy it?"

[nobleman]

Surprisingly enough, Ilia didn't ask for any more details when it came to the subject of who he knew who was sick. Maybe she hadn't been that involved in the whole thing. Either way, it was lucky for Guy because he wasn't put in a position where he had to tell her about Claude, when it was possible Claude didn't want her knowing.

Not that he thought there was much point to keeping secrets at this point, but he would have honored his friend's wishes if that had been the case. Now he could just skirt around the issue entirely.

Unfortunately, there wasn't any good news following that, since it sounded like Ilia had made it through the basement after all. Guy hadn't heard any news of that, which made sense because it wasn't something that could be talked about freely in the first place. He frowned, wanting to know in more detail what Ilia had been put through, but...

She was trying to change the subject. This time, he didn't know if he could let that happen. "It was interesting, yeah. But... Ilia, with the basement... what happened?" He knew now that two people who had been through it could talk about it together, and he wanted to know. Chances were that she hadn't really had the chance to discuss it with many people yet, after all. It might do her some good.

[avengingfists]

She had hoped not prying into Guy's turn down there would dissuade him from asking about her own. Obviously she had been wrong.

The skin around her eyes tightened a bit, but she set her jaw and bared through it. "A friend of mind killed another friend of mine." She shrugged, looking away. "She woke up the next day in the morgue and has pretty much recovered."

To say Ilia was okay with the situation would be a lie, but there wasn't much she could do about what had already happened. She had already cried her tears. A soldier didn't dwell on the past, or else they would never move forward. She looked down at her hands, which were clenched into fists on the table. She made a conscious effort to loosen them. "I've talked with the person who did the killing. He couldn't remember her dying, let alone that he was the one who had killed her..."

[seekingmystrength]

"I'm not making a damn thing, woman."

Whether the nurse heard him or not was left unknown to the ninja as the woman went off, likely to bother someone else with making something so he could "feel better". If eating and taking a shower hadn't helped, then there was no way in hell that dumping glitter on paper would be any different.

He stared across the table he'd been put at, eying some of the materials and wondering absently if he would have ever participated in something like this. If Fai had been put in the same room, the magician would have been making something by now, and it would have only gotten Kurogane angry. Kurogane hadn't seen the man at all though, not even in the showers. His absence could have meant a number of things, but he would start with the bulletin first. That usually worked.

[free]

[skeletonenigma]

"I see," was Skulduggery's uncertain response to his nurse when she talked about an Arts and Crafts room. "I'm really not that handy with a pair of scissors." At least not in the usual fashion, he almost added, but a comment like that in a mental institute probably wouldn't go over too well. His protests fell on deaf ears besides, and after a very wary trek through the Sun Room he'd been attacked in, Skulduggery found himself in a place where Arts and Crafts certainly lent itself as an appropriate name.

What, exactly, was he supposed to do here?

Still slightly unnerved with his interesting lunch experience, Skulduggery picked a chair at random and sat down. The memory of that bloody fingernail, still much too fresh in his mind, had violently renewed his hyper-awareness of his body. Suddenly the slippers were too soft, the clothes too constricting, the hair too close on top of his head. Skulduggery managed to solve the first problem by gently kicking the slippers off under the table, but there wasn't much else he could do.

Before arriving here, Skulduggery couldn't even remember the last time he'd sat still for longer than five minutes - outside of meditation, of course. Now, it seemed to be all he was allowed to do, and - even worse - all he did. Just sit here and stare at copious amounts of glitter.

[Gabe!]

[impudentsongbird]

[from here.]

Ordinarily Gabriel would have been more than happy to be led to any room dedicated to Arts and Crafts, because such was the nature of those things that even Lucifer couldn't completely corrupt them. Right now, however, he was trying very hard not to feel too irritated with the nurse for insisting that he not linger too long in the sun-room. How was he meant to find his brother if he couldn't go where he knew Castiel might eventually be?

The Archangel took a deep breath and released it with a sigh, banishing his irritation at the same time. He had no proof the nurse was anything other than a manipulated soul, which meant it was hardly her fault; she was just doing her job. Besides, he hadn't been to this room yet and if everyone was meant to be there, then maybe Castiel would be as well.

The instant he was through the door Gabriel was already scanning those present, keenly aware and actively missing his extra senses for the first time since he'd arrived at the Institute. He couldn't see Castiel anywhere. Granted, it had been at least a century since he'd seen this particular little brother in person, but angels tended to stick with a chosen appearance.

Distracted and still getting used to the weight and balance of his human body, Gabriel misjudged the distance around him. He stumbled into an occupied chair, rescuing himself from falling by gripping the back of it and half trying to right it at the same time. "Oh! Forgive me, I was--I should have been paying better attention."

[skeletonenigma]

Skulduggery was beginning to suspect that Landel could read their thoughts, and had a vested interest in shocking Skulduggery out of those same important thoughts as much as possible. First, the hair-woman in the Sun Room. Then the hairball during lunch, which had caught him completely off-guard, as he was still getting used to breathing, let alone swallowing. Now, his chair had tipped quite suddenly to the side with no warning, which would barely have been an issue were it not for the extra body weight. And even then, Skulduggery might have been able to stand up in time - using the table for support, perhaps - but the man who knocked over the chair tried to pull it upright at the exact same time. The result was Skulduggery, arms flailing for extra balance he'd never be able to find, pitching off the chair and onto the floor.

His first, slightly embarrassing, thought was at least the floor is carpeted.

The offender, at least, seemed apologetic. "Probably," Skulduggery agreed cordially as he struggled to find his way into a sitting position. The side of his body that had been burned sent fresh lightning jabs of pain shooting up into his torso. "But, no harm done."

[impudentsongbird]

"That's good," Gabriel said, relieved and chagrined in equal measures, and leaned on the chair as he bent to help the man rise. The other patient seemed to be having some trouble, and especially was favouring his right side; Gabriel took note of this, but hid his reaction.

That didn't mean he didn't think anything, however. Damn you, Lucifer. Again!

The Archangel's expression showed nothing but apologetic concern while he planted his feet and dragged the chair around, situating it so the man could sit without having to stretch himself too far. "Are you ill?" he asked.

[skeletonenigma]

Skulduggery accepted the help up to his feet, briefly wondering how a small amount of fire against his flesh could cause so much unnecessary pain long after the attack was over. For one dizzying moment, the detective almost took pity on everyone he'd ever hurled a fireball at; he quickly came back to his senses when he remembered that most of them had deserved far worse.

He took a moment before answering the man's question, head tilted in thought. "I don't think so." He'd been having an on-and-off-again headache for the past few days, but apart from that, Skulduggery wasn't really sure what being sick felt like. Not good, he imagined, but nothing really felt good like this. He'd coughed up a hairball a few minutes ago, for God's sake. "I'm just... not used to the balance quite yet. Thank you for your help."

[impudentsongbird]

'Ill' wasn't the same as 'injured', but since Gabriel hadn't clarified he supposed the answer was to be expected. He'd been trying to be subtle; it wasn't one of his talents, it had to be said. Still, he could guess that although not 'ill', 'injured' was still a possibility--especially as the man had to think about it.

"You're quite welcome," he said, pulling the nearest chair closer and taking a seat himself. That was an interesting turn of phrase--not being used to the balance. Gabriel leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and watching the man with unrestrained interest. "I'm finding it a bit difficult to get used to it myself," he said, and then realised he probably shouldn't have. So he changed the subject, adding, "I'm Gabe. What's your name?"

[doctor_voodoo]

Having set his plans in motion and gotten himself a little "shinobi" as his new minion, Facilier was in a very good mood. He was also pleased by his success at convincing the nurse to let him borrow the potentially powerful book he discovered back in the library. So with the tome tucked away beneath his arm and a pompous grin on his face, Facilier allowed himself to be escorted to the Arts and Crafts room without a fuss. He had already been in this room before beneath the cover of night, but he didn't mind returning here. Besides, he had time to kill before the end of the day arrived, so he might as well sew up some gris-gris to "sell" to other patients while he waited.

Strolling over to the supply drawers, Facilier began plucking up various fabrics, strings and sewing needles until he spotted a familiar face nearby. Seishin was looking through the available materials as well, but with far less certainty and purpose as the Shadow Man.

"Good evening, Mr. Seishin!" Facilier stepped closer to his acquaintance and gave him a friendly nod of his head. "Having a bit of artist's block there?"

[unpriest]

Seishin turned his head in surprise at the sound of his given name, not having expected anyone to initiate conversation.

"Facilier-san! Good evening," Seishin greeted, before blinking at the question. Well, he guessed he had been simply standing here while the room was slowly filling with people, uncertain what to do with all these items. He offered the tall man a friendly smile. "Ah no, it's not like that. It's just that I have never been particularly skilled at this activity."

The novelist then noticed the wide array of materials in Facilier-san's hands; the other man must have more of an idea of what he was doing, at least.

"At least you don't seem to be suffering from an artist's block yourself, Facilier-san."

[doctor_voodoo]

"Ah... There's always a place to start though, right?" The tall Bokor bent down slightly to appraise the colorful selection of crafts and materials, frowning slightly to himself. "Although... The materials here are rather discouraging, what with how childish they are," he observed, "I'm so much used to working with more professional materials..."

Speaking of said items, Facilier glanced down at his bundle of supplies and casually shrugged with a soft chuckle. "Well, it is more of the craft of my work than just plain artistry..." Facilier answered with a hint of pride. "It's been the tool of the trade for me for years. I suppose I can't help but work with it despite the current circumstances..."

[unpriest]

"I suppose so," Seishin answered. His smile turned into an amused one at Dr. Facilier's next comment, and he couldn't help but agree. The materials were something you'd find in kindergarten or the like, which only seemed to underline what the staff thought of them. Well, they were supposed to be mentally ill, so he guessed it was to be expected. Not that the former priest was able to produce anything no matter what sort of materials they were provided with, however. His creativity was limited to writing, after all.

Facilier-san appeared different, and Seishin couldn't help but wonder what sort of profession the tall man pursued. "Tool of the trade, was it? I can imagine this must be quite a few steps back, then," he offered, "If you pardon me asking, what sort of work were you doing before arriving here?"

[doctor_voodoo]

Ah! He had not told his bespectacled acquaintance about his profession yet! "No need to pardon, Mr. Seishin!" he replied with a pleased smile. "Being a doctor and all, my expertise is based on the magical arts from my home world. Most of the time I worked with the whole fortune reading and wish granting business in public..."

Facilier stepped away from the supply drawers, gesturing to Seishin to follow suit and deposited his materials on the closest table. Picking through his small pile of items, he continued his causal explanation of his magic with the same vocal ease as a regular craftsman proudly describing his work. "The rest dealt with both earthly and unearthly sides of magic. Stuff like potions, charms and communing with some friendly folk from the Other Side..."

Despite how outrageous or exotic it all may have sounded to Seishin, Facilier gave another casual gesture of his hand, not bothering to look up from his materials as he added, "Y'know, regular magical things like that."