Day 66: Breakfast

[nobleman]

What Guy had seen on that scan resulted in some mixed feelings. While he had expected to find something in Claude, seeing how he was sick, it hadn't been quite the same as what they'd seen when they had scanned that other ill patient two nights ago. What did that mean? It was possible that the shape of it just looked different because of where it was in Claude's stomach, but Guy couldn't help but feel that there was a deeper meaning to it.

Yet another thing that he didn't understand, then. With a sigh, he got himself up out of bed and went searching immediately for the single leaf that he'd taken from the X-ray room last night. It was stored carefully in his possessions box, which meant that he didn't have to worry too much about that.

While he wanted to quickly sketch the leaf's general shape to post on the bulletin, Guy wasn't given that chance, as his nurse showed up before he could even grab for his journal. He had to relent and let her lead him to the cafeteria for breakfast. While Guy considered stopping by the bulletin to leave a note, that could wait until after he ate. He suspected that Anise or Luke would try to find him as soon as possible to tell him about their findings, so leaving a note for them would be redundant.

He did need to ask about the clue from last night and see if anyone else had further insight on it, but that might be something Claude wanted to do, seeing how he had a better idea of who that baptist was and what it all might signify.

After collecting a small amount of food onto a plate, Guy took a seat near the cafeteria's entrance, keeping an eye out for any of his friends so he could flag them down as they walked in.

[For Anise and Claude.]

Comments

[dualistic]

That whole experience had been miserable, to say the least, and made no better by the fact that Harvey hadn't been able to talk through it. Seeing how it had all been based around having to convince each other to hand that damn heart over, giving up his voice had honestly been the worst possible choice.

Well, there wasn't much to do about it now. They'd succeeded in the end, and now he had his voice back and was no longer damp, all which were good things.

Except that he was still in this same bed in this same room, which was obviously not as good, but Harvey had to look at life a little differently since arriving here. In other words, ignoring the obviously terrible parts of his situation to focus on the small amounts of progress he actually did make. It was surprisingly optimistic, but he was able to fix that with his usual amount of cynicism.

"Just testing this out," he said aloud, because even though he was in a room occupied only by himself and someone who was sleeping, he needed to be sure that his voice was back in place. Nothing seemed off, and it was good to know that the skeleton wouldn't be running around sounding like him anymore. Harvey dragged his hand down his throat before he faced the door, waiting for his nurse to step in.

Once she arrived, it was a quick walk to the cafeteria, but Harvey quickly realized that pigs in blankets wasn't something he was likely to be able to eat easily. For that reason, he instead got a bowl of fruit before he took a seat toward the edge of the room. He could have left a bulletin message for Scott and Sangamon, but he was pretty sure they all knew what they were doing tonight. Where would the rabbit hole take them next? Did he even want to know?

[For Lana.]

[fourstonewalls]

Night ended in a whirl of static and exhaustion; when the intercom came on, Lana jerked upright. Had she passed out on her companions? Or had the night just cut off mid-stride, without so much as a jibe to haunt her dreams.

She felt a little better, though; not well, but at least a little more rested. A few aspirin and a cup of coffee and she might even be able to fake normal. Possibly to herself, as well. Well, if it weren't for the rash still spreading over her left wrist. She stood up, and the world swam for a minute. Hmmm. Maybe not. Breakfast still sounded like it wasn't the worst idea she'd ever had, though, so she brushed out her hair and let herself be led down to the cafeteria. A stern expression and well-honed patience got her some blankets sans pigs, plus a bowl of fruit. She turned back to the cafeteria, looked around, and spotted Dent.

"You look well," she said, as she took the seat opposite.

[lighthearted]

Sora was dreaming -- or that was how it felt, at least. On the other hand, it was all too real to be a dream, wasn't it? Sometimes it was so hard to tell the difference, but dream or not, he was caught in complete darkness. And it wasn't just around him, but in him -- coming out of his eyes, clawing out through his mouth and making him choke. And while he tried to run, he didn't have the energy. Instead, he tripped, and fell, and before long he was just floating into what felt like an abyss.

Except eventually, a light showed itself, far above him, and he went grasping for it, pushing himself upward like he was caught underwater and working frantically to reach the surface before he ran out of air--

And then, he was awake.

Sora was so startled that he'd fumbled his way out of bed before his brain had really woken up. Breathing hard, he found that his hand was pressed tight against his chest, over his heart. He gave a panicked glance around the room, but only saw Link sleeping there. But somehow, that triggered his memory, and suddenly he remembered it all. Link taking off, the start of his transformation, and then running into Tsurugi...

If he'd been lucky, it would have ended there. He wouldn't have had any recollection of what came after that. But unfortunately, he wasn't that lucky, and he recalled almost every detail: his descent into darkness, the people he'd attacked (friends and strangers alike), and that undeniable need for those hearts. It was frightening, and he felt his own heart beat under his palm. How could he have done those things? No, more than that, how could he have turned into one of the things that he'd dedicated the past few years to fighting?

Sora found himself taking steps backward until he hit the edge of his bed, at which point he pushed himself up to sit on it, completely shellshocked. "Everyone... I hurt everyone." His voice sounded the same as always, but it was if something in him had changed. He was still the same person, but he had never done anything like that to a friend before. Even when he'd changed into the Anti-Form during battles in the past, he'd only ever targeted other Heartless. He'd never turned on Donald and Goofy, so why this time? What had Landel done to him?

That man had to be stopped, but Sora realized that he had to be stopped first. There was no way he was allowing himself to attack anyone else, and he knew that when darkness fell again he would turn. Which meant that he needed to get this taken care of before that could happen. Someone would need to stop him, even if it meant the unthinkable. He'd rather die than hurt his friends, and he knew that.

But first he would have to admit to what had happened and apologize. It didn't matter that while he was in his right mind, he would never even comprehend of doing such a thing. There was still blood on his hands, and the only upside in this whole mess was that he hadn't actually killed anyone. Sora didn't know what he would have done with himself if that had happened, and he didn't really want to think about it.

For once, he made no effort to be cheerful or kind around his nurse, instead walking in silence a few steps behind her until they reached the bulletin. It took a long time for him to find the words to explain what had happened, but eventually Sora drafted up a note. He didn't care that he was exposing himself to the whole institute. They all deserved to know.

It was only on the way into the cafeteria that he realized that he still felt sick. The symptoms didn't seem as bad as they had yesterday, and Sora honestly didn't know what to make of that. But it was clear that whatever was wrong with him, it wasn't over yet. With no appetite (not after he'd spent the whole night feeling a very different kind of hunger), Sora went to sit down, positioning himself near the entrance in case anyone wanted to confront him about last night. He'd take all their anger without complaint -- but the thing was, he wasn't sure they'd even be angry. That was the thing about friends -- they were just too good to him, and right now it didn't feel like he deserved it.

[For Tsurugi.]

[knightspirit]

Night cut out, and Kyousuke once again found himself in bed. It had happened a few times already, but he still wasn't used to it, and nearly jolted upright, except that the sudden stab of pain in the motion caused him slump right back into the pillow. Right... This place, and he was injured, he remembered. He sat up more cautiously this time, and pulled up the shirt that wasn't supposed to be there to see how bad it was. But there was nothing to see, since it had been bandaged up properly now. The parts of his chest not covered in gauze were bruised and swollen, but while it still hurt just to get a breath in, it didn't seem quite as bad as it had during the night. He wondered if whoever had cleaned him up had given him something for the pain, too.

The nurse arrived to collect him while he was still staring down at his wound, and assured him that it was only a cracked rib and he'd be fine if it took it easy. She offered him some ice to place on his chest and began to escort him out. Privately, he wondered if he shouldn't be resting to heal faster, but she didn't seem to be giving him a choice, and he was too preoccupied with his own thoughts to protest. The monsters, that clue... He did ask to see the bulletin on the way, but unfortunately, the board was still blank. He stared at it for a moment, debating if he should say anything, but ended up shaking his head and leaving it. He'd just have to check back later.

Once in the cafeteria, he had to frown down at his tray as he got his food. With everything happening, he wasn't hungry at all, but he knew he had to eat something so he'd have the strength to recover. He turned to glance over the room, to find a place to eat in silence, but then he caught sight of spiked brown hair. Was that....?

Before he knew it, his tray had slipped out his grip, and he was making his way across the room. He could hear staff yelling at him behind him, but he completely ignored them and settled into the seat across from Sora.

From here, he paused for a moment, struggling to find something to say. 'Are you okay?' would be completely stupid; of course he wasn't okay. 'What happened?' was ... better, but probably too loaded right now.

"... You're still here," he settled on eventually. That was obvious, but he was still having trouble comprehending it.

[complicatedliar]

It had been a stressful night, but Loki had high hopes for it, particularly for the results with Soma. He could only wait to see how she seemed to be doing, though. Would she have been appropriately patched up by the staff after they'd all been rendered unconscious? Would the staff have done so without implanting another of those devices in her?

Patience should not have seemed so difficult, he scolded himself.

Better to think of the other part of his night. That had been exceedingly pleasant.

Almost bemused, he allowed the nurse to herd him to the cafeteria, and acquired a bowl of fruit. The main course didn't seem all that appealing. He seated himself where he could keep an eye out for Soma.

[Flora.]

I'M SORRY THIS IS LONG AND HORRIBLE

[showmeyourwreath]

"Lee! Lloyd!" Flora's eyes snapped open to meet the daylight. She started, a pain shooting through her arm. She looked down at it, and blinked at the bandages. That wasn't--well, it was apparently possible, but it was just night a moment ago--she'd been fighting a moment ago! She hadn't been knocked out! Were they okay? What happened? These shifts were incredibly off-putting, and she didn't know she got back here, but the important thing was that if her wounds were suddenly taken care of, maybe the same could be said of Lloyd and Lee. She'd couldn't say either way, and would feel better about it when she saw it or knew it for herself, but she had to believe in it. Her hands laced themselves on top of the blankets. They had to be okay.

She got up out of bed, when someone, a nurse, she supposed, walked in with a smile that did nothing to soothe her worries for all that it was incredibly bright. Almost too much for even her liking, but denying someone their cheer just seemed really mean-spirited. “Good morning, Valencia! And how are you, today? I hope that you slept well.”


Flora tilted her head. Valencia? It was a very lovely name but it most certainly wasn't hers. She suddenly found herself thinking about the incident in first year, though this case of mistaken identity probably wouldn't turn out as well. She gestured to her chest with her good arm. “I'm sorry, madam, but my name is Flora. I think you have me mistaken with someone else.”

The nurse looked at her with such pity, Flora wondered if she should begin to feel sorry for herself, without even knowing why. "No, I'm afraid I do not, but we'll help you remember that here, my dear. Come along, now! Wouldn't want you to miss breakfast on your first day." She was immediately all smiles again at a speed that left the fairy blinking, but she got up to follow her out. The nurses couldn't have been on this, could they have?

The scene in the cafeteria was incredibly surprising, to say the least. This was all unfamiliar to her, she'd never been in a place like this before, but there was a calm sense of order here that you could find just about anywhere. People knew and understood where they were supposed to go, what they were supposed to do...it was all part of the day-to-day.

It all looked so...normal.

Seeing it did nothing to comfort her, though, it just made it worse. Her good arm drifted to her bandaged wound. She knew what had happened to her, and to Lee and Lloyd. This was all pretty convincing, but it was still a lie.

"Winx Believix." She muttered to herself.

"Did you say something, Valencia?"

Hmm? Oh, right, her fake name. "Oh no, nothing!" She tried not to sigh. Nothing, indeed. Her magic was limited she knew that much, but some of her spells worked last night. Transforming did, even if it didn't last long at all. It's a good thing she found that out sooner than later. The thought of her being so high up only to suddenly lose her wings and fall, all without knowing if she could or couldn't stop it or protect herself. It made her blood run cold, and she shuddered "Just looking forward to breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day, after all." She tried to smile, and wasn't sure that she'd be able to eat a thing. She lined up and quickly got something anyway. She'd need her strength.

"That's the spirit! Here, why don't you sit with Lawrence there and keep him company."

Not having much choice in the matter it seemed, and seeing no point in fighting it, Flora carefully sat down with her tray and took a breath and the nurse turned to leave. Her posture was perfect, but she paid it no mind; she had more important things on it. Do you know where my friends are? Can you help me find them? What is going on here? All things she wanted to ask her new tablemate, but instead she said, "I'm sorry about this, I didn't mean to intrude. Good morning." and smiled apologetically, trying not to look so despondent. Yes, of course she had her questions, but she didn't know the man and unloading all of that at once seemed pretty rude and inconsiderate! She didn't want to be either at all, ever.

[freewill]

When Castiel woke up, pain was the only thing that he was truly aware of. The actual surgery had been bad enough, and his hope was that the aftermath wouldn't be as grueling, but he couldn't say that was the case.

Feverish and covered in sweat despite the fact that he'd been sleeping, for a while after waking all Castiel could do was stare at the ceiling. But even though the slightest movement sent another shock of pain through his middle, he had to focus on the fact that he was still here, breathing. Not that he'd thought himself capable of dying from blood loss or any other physical complication (weak as he was, that still seemed impossible), but there was still a small amount of shock at realizing that it was morning and he was still here.

The only true movement he could make was to lift up his arm, the one with the rash, and it was clear just from a glance that the redness was starting to fade. He let his arm fall back to his side and let out a pained, but relieved breath. It had worked. Reckless though it had been, he hadn't wasted the time of those three people whose help he'd enlisted.

Remaining in the room to recover would have been the logical thing to do, but Castiel didn't like the idea of bedrest, and apparently neither did his nurse, seeing how she showed up soon after with a wheelchair. And he thought his dignity couldn't be dragged down any further. Still, he knew it was necessary, as the thought of standing on his own sounded like suicide at the moment.

Speaking of suicide, that was exactly what his nurse cited as the reason for his wound. Or rather, an attempt at suicide. In a way, that's exactly what it was, as he'd asked for Kratos to cut him open -- but dying had never been part of the plan.

With the help of orderlies, he was pulled up out of bed and moved into the wheelchair, and even that small amount of movement made the pain worse. The nurse noticed from the way he was tensing and the sweat that continued to dot at his forehead, and offered him a cup of water and some pain pills.

In this instance, there was no way he could refuse, and so Castiel swallowed them down as ordered.

But as the wheelchair was pushed down the halls toward the cafeteria, he realized that he was feeling worse as time went on. Now he could tell that he was nauseous, a sensation that was relatively new to him and yet familiar. It felt worse than it had in past days, and when he told the nurse, she offered him a basin in case he had to vomit.

While it was encouraged for him to eat at least a small amount of food, the idea seemed impossible to him, and so eventually the nurse gave up and situated his wheelchair at an empty table. Castiel was exhausted just from that small trip, and the idea of speaking with anyone was an effort all its own.

He needed to let the rest of the institute know that it was possible to undo the sickness through surgical means under the right conditions, but right now he could barely see straight, so it was clearly going to have to wait. Maybe he could get someone to put the note up for him, but even that would require a conversation.

But as horrible as he felt, he knew that eventually he would heal, and the pain and symptoms would pass. And then he could be properly cured, and he would maintain his sense of self. That was what mattered most, and that was what he tried to focus on, sick as he felt.

[Free!]

[thisisyourgod]

For most people, finding themselves in a strange bed would be weird enough, but most people were actually used to sleeping in beds. However, Karkat was a troll. As such, the sensation of being covered in blankets when he woke up wasn't a pleasant one for him. He felt trapped, wrapped up. Of course, his flailing around the moment he woke up didn't help with that either, as he just got himself tangled up further. By the time the nurse came in to bring him to breakfast, he was a solid mass of boy and blanket rolling around on the floor as he attempted to literally chew his way free.

The sight of the adult human was surprising enough that he froze in placed and stared, allowing her to start prying him loose as she made quiet 'tsk'ing noises with her tongue. He was used to seeing strange things in the dream bubbles, but this was new. The location was one he didn't recognize either, but he was used to that. It was probably just someone else's memory.

It wasn't until he was standing and she was adjusting his clothes that he started to realize what else was off. The clothes weren't his, and that was odd enough, but the oddity of that paled in comparison to the fact that the hands he held in front of himself weren't his either. They were human hands. Since when had dream bubbles caused someone to change species? (He might have guessed he was currently "being" someone else, but that was just a load of pretend hoofbeast shit some of the others had fun with.)

The first thing to do while he was this baffled was, obviously, to pin all blame on the only other person in the room. "What the fuck did you do??"

He was instantly hushed, the nurse sticking a finger over his lips in a way that was far too pale for his liking, but he was still too confused to yell anything further. "Language," she warned him, which seemed utterly ridiculous. "I know Landel's will take some adjusting to, but let's not get off on the wrong foot with the others right away. You'll feel better after you've eaten breakfast."

And still, the woman continued to make no sense. Baffling Karkat into silence wasn't easily done, but she'd accomplished it on their first meeting. He didn't have much choice but to follow her out of the room. Any moment now he expected to have a familiar face pop up and explain things to him, but while they passed many other people in the halls along the way, none of them were familiar and all of them were human.

She said he would be eating with other patients like himself. That, then, would be the time to drill them for answers. However, once his plate was full with who knew what and he was ready to take a seat, she sat him right down in front of what was possibly the most despondent man in the entire room. He tried to stand back up again, but was almost immediately shoved back down as the nurse gave him a far too friendly smile.

Karkat could be obnoxious most of the time, but even he had his limits on who he'd start immediately yelling at. Getting angry at the man in front of him would be like kicking a young wounded barkbeast. But of course it was also impossible for the troll to stay silent for any length of time.

"So, uh. Are you like some dream guide or what?"

[his_legacy]

The night's end had come quickly and without a word from the Boss. Link's eyes snapped open, immediately turning to the empty bed beside him. His heart sank, the empty sheets a stark reminder of his failure. If he had only been fast enough, or strong enough...

It was with a lackluster attitude (and slightly droopy ears) that he heeded the words of his nurse, shuffling into the cafeteria.

But- there was Sora! Great goddesses, he was okay!! The weariness eased from his face and was quickly replaced by a smile of relief. He was talking to a boy Link didn't recognize, and the Hylian decided to give him some space. He could speak with him at dinner, offer his owed apology then. The guilt still weighed on Link's shoulders, but at least Sora was okay.

He sat down with the strange food they had been served, alone but alright. He wanted to think. If they were going to beat this place, they would need a map. Depending on what happened with the sick patients tonight, Link could spend his time drawing one. There was some paper in his room, from what he could remember.

[For Flynn!]

[brokensmolder]

On his third morning at Landel's, Eugene Fitzherbert woke with a splitting headache.

It wasn't that his leg didn't hurt--it did--but his head ached more. They hadn't even gotten to Rapunzel's room last night. The shadow that attacked the Once-ler had taken up all their time. And it had looked like Sora. Eugene had never met the kid in person, so he still tried to convince himself that it had been a coincidence, that the Once-ler was mistaken even though it had been publicly known the boy was ill. He didn't know what if the Once-ler was right.

Walking into the Sun Room that morning, he pointedly avoided the bulletin board. He didn't want to read about patients transforming, particularly if one of them had actually attacked them. (He didn't want to read about it period, but the merest suggestion that it had been Sora made it so much worse.)

"Zachary? Honey, are you feeling all right? You're a little pale. Come sit next to Mr. Miyamoto while I go find some aspirin."

Another kid. If Eugene had been perfectly honest with himself, he would have admitted that "Mr. Miyamoto" really didn't look all that much younger that Rapunzel, but all he could think of was Sora.

...He hadn't yet noticed the ears.

[madeinthehrl]

As much as the anesthetic had taken the edge off of last night's surgery, Soma had still been in considerable pain when she'd finally manage to drift off, Lingormr still at her side. It was the pain that woke her, too, though it had thankfully receded somewhat.

But her head was clear for the first time in days, and as far as she could tell, her fever was gone. The soreness in her muscles seemed to have relocated itself almost entirely to her abdominal region, but that was only to be expected after what had happened. Hesitantly, she raised her arm, and she couldn't help but exhale slowly when she saw the rash had faded significantly.

It worked, she thought, and it was stupid, but the sudden wave of relief, magnified in part by Marie's own emotions, brought tears to her eyes. It was a moment before she could swallow the lump in her throat and wipe her face with her sheet.

Sitting up immediately seemed like a bad idea. Instead she had to wait until her nurse arrived, and not even her explanation for what had happened (some kind of suicide attempt? Really?) could dampen the joy she felt. Maybe it was a little early to consider herself out of the woods, but she couldn't really bring herself to care. Instead she kept quiet as the nurse assisted her into a wheelchair and escorted her to the cafeteria.

Lingormr's face was the first she looked for as she entered. The cafeteria was still mostly empty, and he was easy to find. Still, when she told her nurse she'd like to sit with him, all she got in response was a frown and a faint shake of her head. She'd been spending too much time with Lawrence, the nurse said as she filled Soma's tray with fruit and water. Evidently they thought he'd had something to do with her so-called suicide attempt, as if he'd encouraged her to do it or something equally stupid.

Soma could see trying to argue the point would have been a waste of breath, and even breathing held a certain kind of ache to it. She didn't quite feel up to calling across the room to him, but she managed a wave and a wan smile as the nurse wheeled her past.

Left at an empty table with her breakfast and an admonishment to make more friends, she stuck her fork in a chunk of cantaloupe and frowned slightly. She might be feeling better, but her appetite hadn't entirely returned yet.

[for Nina!]

[mirrorimage]

Nina had awoken in far less happy spirits. She, Ryuuzaki and Lana had made more progress than she'd been able to make on previous nights but they still hadn't found a cure. It ate away at Nina, to think they still didn't have any way to fix what had happened to so many people around the institute.

Still, she was determined not to give up or let herself become desolate, either. She didn't speak much to her nurse on the way to the cafeteria, simply letting the woman guide her around. She did ask to be let fill up her own tray, a request to which her nurse relented.

Choosing where she sat would not be permitted, though. She was guided to where a young woman sat in a wheelchair, at an empty table. "Why don't you sit by Maria?" the nurse suggested, depositing Nina across from Soma before departing.

Nina blinked at the other girl now sitting across from her. "Hello," she said, a little awkwardly, before offering a smile. She couldn't help noticing the wheelchair and feeling the same spark of anger she'd been feeling every time she saw another injured person around this place.

What it was, Nina wasn't sure, but it certainly was no hospital.

[envy_the_sinners]

Scar awoke in something of a fog. Last night had been the first real chance he'd taken for some sleep, but it clearly had not helped clear his aching head. He was disappointed to find that his stomach was still bothering him so, and that the rash had not yet begun to recede.

But at least he was still himself. He had made it one more day.

The Ishbalan sat up, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his palms. Too many thoughts were swirling around his head. The confusions he had thought he had cast aside in Lior were once again becoming prominent and impossible to push aside as he did with everything else.

The shock of his brother's revival had yet to fade. Had it truly been only 6 days? How was that even possible...

Shaking his foggy head, Scar shuffled into the cafeteria. The wounds in his legs still ached slightly as he moved, but were improving at an alarming rate. His back was another story, but it had not been subjected to Rapunzel's magic. (There really wasn't anything else he could think to call it.) He was one of few patients already in the cafeteria. Scar recognized all of them, shooting Lingormr a glare that was reserved just for him before getting food and taking a seat.

What a strange breakfast.

[Free as he could be in such a lovely hospital~]

[asteroidbelt]

He'd assumed the nurse was taking him to a doctor, but she was just escorting him to the cafeteria, as it turned out. Ryusei had just turned to ask her about that, but something about the room bothered him for some reason, and when he'd finished looking uneasily around the room, the nurse had left.

Okay, he'd ask someone else. Ryusei stuffed his hands into his pockets, and it was at that moment his stomach decided to complain at him, so he grudgingly got on the food line.

He figured it out when he sat down. There had been a ceiling window in the room previous, but this room didn't have any windows at all. Who was the genius who designed this place? Were they just cheap? he thought, derisively looking around at the walls again.

It was in the midst of this glance that he spotted someone nearby. Should he go for it? He hesitated a moment, then got up. "Excuse me?" he said tentatively as he approached. "Is this seat taken?"

[ninelivesonce]

Last night hadn't gone anywhere remotely according to plan. The plan had been, quite possibly, not even in the same system. How had she missed Goku getting sick until it was too late? And then dragged him on a mission that had turned up nothing.

This was why one didn't rely on kids for soldiers. Not because they couldn't be trusted, or because they weren't fanatically loyal, but because the worry got into everything. Taura hadn't had many chances to be older.

And she wasn't going to get any more if she didn't find out what had happened to the boy. She grabbed a plate of food, not even paying attention to what was being piled on there, and after a quick look around, took a position at the edge of the cafeteria, where she could see everyone coming in.

[Goku]

[monkeyboy]

Goku woke up with a pounding headache that could crack the earth in half. It was hard to tell if he felt any better or if the painful throbbing in his skull simply masked the rest of his woes for the time being. For once he wasn't on his feet by the time the white witch came for him. It was up to her to peel him off the bed and get shoes on him before pulling him to the cafeteria.

By the time they hit the doors to the Sun Room, the young boy had perked up from the smell of pork. Of course, all too soon Goku realized they were serving those poor pig wieners again. It was hard to protest when they smelled so good and his stomach was so woefully empty. Goku made sure the woman got him extra bread and fruit to counter balance the guilt he felt for these martyred pigs before moving elsewhere behind his nurse.

Of course the first person he recognized was Taura. She stood out of a crowd even while sitting down. Without asking, he climbed up onto the chair in front of her and waited for the woman in white to set his plate down.

"Hi!" he greeted, as if nothing was wrong.

[survives]

So much for that. In a place like this, Leanne should have expected that things wouldn't go quite how they wanted, no matter how carefully they planned. The night hadn't been a total loss, of course, she couldn't allow herself to think otherwise, no matter what, but they'd still managed to hit a snag early on. And...

--Tsubaki! Of course. She had much more important things to worry about than how much they'd accomplished. She needed to make sure her friend was all right.

Sporting quite a few more scratches than the day before, Leanne made her way to breakfast, as quickly as she could for once. The combination of her injuries and current illness worked to slow her down, but the very moment she had a tray of food in her hands, she headed toward the tables, scanning the area.

Tsubaki had to be around there somewhere...

[Tsubaki!]

[thecamellia]

Tsubaki’s heart was still thundering when she woke up, the only remnant left of the night. Besides the wounds, at least.

“Oh!” she gasped, bolting upright. The sudden movement jarred her injuries, but she barely spared the twinge of pain any mind. Oh gosh, Sora! And Leanne! Everyone… Are they all right? They have to be!

She tried to hurry through as much of the morning routine as she could get away with, her eyes roving constantly for any familiar faces in the halls; by the time she was ready to head down to the Sun Room to check the bulletin, she was almost at the point of running ahead of her nurse. It was only the need to stay on the staff’s good side that stopped her.

Leanne… and Rapunzel and Scar… All people she had to check on after what had happened, but it was Sora’s state that most worried her. Sora, who’d been consumed by blackness, disfigured almost beyond recognition. Sora, who’d attacked without even a flicker of self-awareness. So like a kishin. It frightened her to think there was a chance he might still be like that, even after nightshift had passed. Would sunrise have washed that blackness out of his soul? It had to have, right?

Seeing the note on the bulletin, written in Sora’s hand, was a huge relief, no matter the questions it raised.

He was back! Himself. It wasn’t the same as seeing Sora in the flesh, but as she read and re-read the note again, she felt she could breathe a little easier than before. That was all that mattered, knowing he’d been brought back from that… dark place he’d gone.

And he can again. They all can, they have to.

Although her appetite was nonexistent, her nurse was quick to remind her that there was still breakfast to contend with, and reluctantly Tsubaki let herself be led into the cafeteria. It was worth it, though--she reminded herself that out of all the activity shifts, breakfast gave her the best chance to catch a glimpse of everyone. At the very last second, Tsubaki made sure that her bandages were hidden out of view before stepping inside, gaze flitting to and fro.

Almost at once she noticed the blonde girl standing at the end of the room. Her feet moved before her brain could catch up, and before she realized it she was hurrying over to Leanne. “Oh, thank goodness! Are you okay?”

[skeletonenigma]

Waking up here for the first time had been disorienting. Each subsequent morning had been just as bad, if not worse. But this time... this time couldn't even really be considered waking up. There was no in-between darkness, no peace, and no being jolted awake. One moment, Skulduggery was back in that library-turned-Sanctuary his subconscious had created for him with Valkyrie and his family; the next, he was back on the same bed, blinking up at the same whitewashed ceiling as the static of the intercom announcement was fading away.

To say that he wasn't in a good mood when his nurse came to get him would have been a bit of an understatement.

They were just hallucinations; they should have been easy to shake off. Keeping anger at bay was too important to let something so minor bother him so much. Maybe Skulduggery's lack of food and sleep was finally starting to catch up with him; he felt weak with hunger, and his eyes were much too heavy. Another headache was pounding away at his skull. It was all Skulduggery could do to make sure Rita hadn't been 'discharged' from his nurse, and leave a note for the teenager on the way to the cafeteria.

His theory from last night, it seemed, was also correct. It had happened to Sora, according to the bulletin. Skulduggery took another moment to make sure the boy was alright for the time being, and didn't so much as argue when a plate of pigs in blankets was presented to him minutes later.

Skulduggery had no way of knowing, but as he took a seat by himself and watched everyone else, his face was showing a hint of rare emotion. It was a mixture between longing and melancholy, though it was briefly replaced by the usual blank expression as he looked down at the food.

Skulduggery's stomach was doing a funny sort of somersault as he remembered the fingernail from the day before. It didn't matter how hungry he was; the detective couldn't bring himself to try eating again.

[For a certain mother-hen Archangel!]

[impudentsongbird]

Weariness was an unwelcome, and very strange, feeling. At least, Gabriel was pretty sure it was weariness. It was a bit difficult to tell when he hadn't really felt it before, and especially because it wasn't all just a physical sensation. Gabe was finding it hard to gather his thoughts, like his mind had been stretched.

The sensation unnerved him. It seemed as if everything in this place was geared to remind him of how he'd almost Fallen--just one more thing Gabe couldn't help but take as proof that Lucifer was behind it, alternate universes or no. It was too coincidental.

Still. The operation had gone ... well. If anything like that could ever go well under those kinds of circumstances. Castiel had suffered despite everything Gabe and Rapunzel had tried to do for him, that much was clear, but the device had been removed successfully. Gabe fully intended on seeking his brother out today--just to make sure he was still at least somewhat okay, and see whether the operation had worked. With the images of that poor patient-turned-monster in the corridors still swimming in his head, Gabe very much did not want to have to fight Castiel should the same happen to him.

In any case, Gabriel managed to find a smile for Rachel when she came for him. She beamed back and led him out to the cafeteria, chastising him gently about his habit of removing his shoes the previous day. Neatly Gabriel turned the conversation on her and managed to get her talking about her own family and her job. To all intents and purposes she seemed like an ordinary woman who genuinely believed in what she was doing.

It put into Gabe's mind what Zero had said, the night before, about the nurses changing; and when Rachel allowed him to stop and check the bulletin board, the Archangel found Sora's apology; and so by the time he actually reached the cafeteria, Gabe was sorely in need of a distraction. That distraction, luckily or unluckily, came when Gabe spotted the man with which he'd made rosaries the day before--Skulduggery. He was just in time to catch the expression on the Irishman's face before he looked down.

Well. Gabe didn't see Castiel around yet (or maybe Cas had already left), he couldn't help Sora until he knew more about the outcome of the operation, and he couldn't start on Leanne's Shield Knot without the proper materials. But he might just be able to do something for Skulduggery. The Archangel made his way over, setting his tray down and taking the seat opposite with a small smile.

"Good morning," he said, and then paused. "At least, I hope it's not a bad one, if not an actively good one. How was your evening?"

[repelling]

With his shoulder and upper back bleeding through his layers of shirts, and with his vision spotted and starred and his head feeling cracked clean in half (amazing: not good fortune, as good fortune would have been not being whacked in the head with a baseball bat by his partner, but something: his glasses had not broken), Uryuu wouldn't have been surprised if he'd blacked out. He had not--he did not think so, but after dispatching the creature, the brunt of his injuries staggered him, and things became fuzzy. Coinciding nicely with the crackle that did not reach the field outside.

Then it was day. His eyes opened as they had before: without his remembering closing them. It was still disorienting, and it took a moment for him to situate himself in the time, to fully wake. His still pounding head, a throb originating now in his left eye, did not help clarity. Always a morning person, even here, his body resisted sleeping in and stirred before the first announcement. Not long before it, not even a minute; he hadn't fully shaken the last dregs of drowsiness, that uncharacteristic sticking grogginess. Thus as the Head Doctor's voice filled the room, Uryuu still laid prone, staring blearily into the dark room, not even having put on his glasses. He did as much as the intercom silenced (his glasses coming to rest over a bandage high on his nose), and climbed out of bed. The sharp pains as he moved and skin and muscle shifted on his back chased away any lingering tiredness. As with before, his pillow has no casing. The room was as empty and devoid of another person's touch as it had been the night before.. He moved to the closed, opening the door to find a discouraging absence.

There sat, as expected, the makeshift bag, bulging with what he'd packed into it the night before. Yet: no bat. No other things if he took it. Had it been a waste of time, had the Institute cracked down on items discovered during the night? How much time would be wasted each night, then, and what of those with swords? That would be especially unfortunate for Poole-san. Not that he felt particularly generous toward the man at the moment. Pressing his lips thin, he bid back the frustration and kept to task. Bending, he unwound and unpacked the case, so to hang back up the sweatshirts and retrieve his journal. The flashlight and radio he left there. Shutting the door, he set the journal on his desk as he slid on his slippers, and his door not yet having opened to a nurse, made the bed.

As he finished tucking the sheets and blanket beneath the mattress, the door clicked and swung. His same nurse, Uryuu noted, with that same smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Way! Gosh, ready to go, aren't you? You know, you don't have to do all that; you'll put a custodian out of work!" That same annoying chirping. Now with no acknowledgement of his wounds, no look or word. It struck him that he hadn't bothered to learn her name yet; a rude oversight, but he had not been very concerned with showing deference to the staff. Gerard Way, however... he glanced at her tag while taking hold of his journal and a pen.

"Good morning, Susan-sa-- Miss Susan. If I may, have I been- that is, I'm a little muddled this morning," his best go at a sheepish smile; not a very good one, "I feel like I've lost time. As far as I can remember, just yesterday I was all wrapped up," lifting his free hand, wiggling his fingers, "but today-"

The nurse, who had to this moment cycled through a smile (at her name) that turned distinctly vacant, now interrupted with a laugh. "Oh, Mr. Way. Don't be ridiculous. Off to breakfast, let's go!"

She swept him out the door, and Uryuu struggled to prevent his mouth from twisting sour. Why had he ever thought it might be worth even trying to ask them anything? She did allow him his stop to wash up at the bathroom (he grimaced at the giant bruise over his eye, an ugly and violent purple so dark it was nearly black, at the swelling high in the bridge of his nose, wrapped just under his glasses, at the bandages he could see just creeping past his collar and feel over his shoulder, down his back), and another at the bulletin board, before depositing him on line at the cafeteria.

There were a few patients already here. The "Head Doctor" had called the choice this morning pigs in a blanket, a turn of phrase Uryuu had not yet heard in relation to food. It must be an American thing, he thought, and began to humor the thought of what Inoue-san might imagine if she could hear it, until he saw the stuff. It looked and smelled like beef in bread. Still no rice, and a bit too much to experiment with first thing. Thus, he turned to the provided, staple alternatives. A glass of water and a fruit cup would do. Though in fact having no appetite (his head groaned at it), the importance of breakfast was too ingrained in him to shun it entirely. Plus... free food. With his meager portion gathered, along with a fork and napkin, he sat down at a table near to but not directly in front. He faced the door so to watch the others file in. Not directly staring; the fruit cup helped with that.

His right side bearing the brunt of the talons, Uryuu held the cup in his right hand and managed to move with little evidence of stiffness; being left-handed a boon in this instance.

[ for Kratos, then eventually the derps ]

[forsworn]

It took him a few seconds to register that he was once again lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, such was the intensity with which he'd approached the task of keeping Castiel alive by any means possible. The operation had been successful, at least, or so he'd last thought.

Kratos pushed himself upright in bed with more ease than the morning before; his injuries from previous days were healing, and last night had hardly been strenuous, at least, not physically. This was a good sign, since he was beginning to have that horrible feeling that he would be needing every ounce of his strength tonight for another bloody task. He stared down at his hands for a few seconds, contemplating the possibility, before throwing the blankets aside and standing up. Speculation was toxic if improperly grounded, and he had not even faced the entire day yet. Better to use the time given to him wisely and determine his course of action later.

The cafeteria was not quite bustling with activity when he arrived, and Kratos cast a cursory glance around as he got into the line for breakfast, not quite yet earnestly looking for either of the two people he needed to check up on. He was still (and would always be) in the habit of eating only because he had to, and this translated into mindlessly accepting whatever the nurses bothered to serve him; in the end, he acquired what seemed to be a little bit of everything. Now, to find a seat where he could also watch the entrance to the cafeteria and thereby catch either Sora's or Castiel's arrival...

Ah, there was one, facing the door but not directly pointed at it. Someone was already sitting in the seat next to it, but Kratos was quite capable at avoiding conversation, and he was more than willing to employ his skills for the sake of remaining undisturbed. He sat down, eyes on the cafeteria entrance, and began picking at some of the fruit on his plate, all the while careful to not make accidental eye contact with the person next to him, lest he give them some reason to draw him into small talk.

[gald_digger]

After waking up that morning, Anise had to take a few moments to think on the events of last night, trying to remember everything they'd done. She and Luke had collected most of what was in the storage room, which was probably more than enough for a surgery or two. They just had to figure out how to use the equipment properly... and hope that time was still on their side.

Struggling against fatigue, Anise pulled herself out of bed and made a half-hearted effort to fix her pigtails before allowing her nurse to escort her to the cafeteria. The food didn't look very appetizing, but Anise took a little bit of everything. She'd decide which items she actually felt like eating after she sat down.

Guy was already seated at a table, and Anise made her way over to meet him, moving sluggishly and a bit ill-balanced. She sat across from him and offered a weak smile. "'Morning." Her voice sounded as drained as the rest of her felt, but she at least tried not to look miserable in front of her friend. "How did things go last night?"

[nobleman]

Anise was the first to arrive, which Guy wasn't all that surprised by. Even while sick, she was very much used to the schedule here. While it was hard to realize that he could look at her and tell just from a glance how sick she was, the fact was that she hadn't changed into anything last night, and that was what they needed to focus on.

On the other hand, every second he looked at Anise, Guy was reminded that the invisible clock over her head (and Claude's) was ticking down, with no way of stopping it so far.

Still, he'd share what he knew and they could go from there. What other option was there? "Morning," he said in reply to her greeting, still not one to forget his manners. "It went all right. We saw the clue, but neither of us were able to make much of it. But we also got Claude onto that X-ray machine. There was something in his stomach too, but it looked a little different from what came up for that other patient."

While it would be a good idea to compare notes with others who had performed X-rays, Guy didn't know that all that many patients had gotten around to it. Not when there were so many other things to focus on.

[no_dont_go]

If the doctor's voice hadn't woken her, the stomach pains would have seen to that. As much as she appreciated getting to know human sensations some were less welcome. Luckily, breakfast provided two means of escape, mental distraction as well as physical. Even if she wasn't paired with a suitable conversationalist at least the android would have something to eat. Pigs in a blanket was a strange name for food but Aigis had found the mix of savory and sweet to be to her tastes.

Sitting down with her tray at an empty table, the android started in on her food, ignoring the shuddering palpitations of her heart. Her thoughts trailed back to the night before, her conversation with Aidou and the strange peace that came from it. What had changed between them? It was a subtle difference in how they had handled themselves around each other the night before, so subtle yet even Aigis had picked up on the change.

She scratched at the rash on her arm idly, wondering if she should write a note to the vampire sometime today. The red splotches had stopped spreading now. If anything, they were even a little lighter than they had been the day before.

[Riley]

[albuquerquesnorkel]

[eep sorry for the delay!]

And for the second time in so many minutes, Riley suddenly woke up back in that generic hospital room with no sense of any time passing, or even of having fallen asleep. Only this time, the lights were blazing, and the door - when he tried it - was locked.

Where was Ishida? What happened to that demonic-looking bird... thing? What was happening to him?

The baseball bat had been stuck into the closet by someone that wasn't him. The flashlight was back under the pillow, the radio back on the desk. Other things had probably changed, but Riley didn't have time to check on anything else before the doorknob rattled, and a smiling nurse came in.

"Ah, Mr. Lewis! Were you planning on sleeping the whole day away?" she chirped, acting for all the world like any of this was normal. "You almost missed breakfast! Come on, let's go get you some food."

Riley stood perfectly still for a second, and then slowly shook his head. "I'm not, no. I'm not... my name isn't Lewis. It's Riley. Riley Poole."

Was it just his imagination, or did the nurse's expression grow pitying? "I know it feels like that now, but we're here to help you. And that starts with some of the most delicious food you've ever tasted. Aren't you hungry?"

Riley realized his mouth was open. He quickly closed it. "Yeah," he finally responded, remembering that Ishida had said something about a mental hospital. "Um... where exactly are we?"

"Landel's Institute, remember? Stop delaying, Mr. Lewis. It's time you tried to build up relationships with other people. Let's find you someone nice to talk to for breakfast. Doesn't that sound like a good idea?"

"I don't... Look, I don't have any... what?" Riley had been swinging a baseball bat at a bird a moment ago, and now... Wait a minute. Didn't the bat hit Ishida? Oh god. The bat hit Ishida by accident. The poor kid may have been slightly out of his mind, but he didn't deserve that! "There's... there's got to be some kind of mistake here, okay? Can I talk to a doctor? I don't belong here, but there's someone who does, and I think he's hurt-"

But his protestations fell on deaf ears, and Riley eventually gave up as the nurse led him out of the room. He'd just have to try and find a doctor later and sort all of this out. He tried to ask the nurse about what happened last night in the meantime, and why no one had been patrolling the hallways, or even - as he was growing desperate - what kinds of birds lived around here and how big they could grow, but most of his questions were waved aside with a blank smile, and then a plate of food.

"Angela here has been feeling a little under the weather lately," his nurse commented as she put the plate down across from a blonde girl who looked about Ishida's age. "Maybe you can help cheer her up, how does that sound?"

The nurse bustled away before she could hear Riley's tight-lipped answer of "Great. Just perfect."

With nothing else to do and a growling stomach, Riley slowly sat down and gave Angela an uncertain smile. "Hi." He pointed at the retreating nurse. "Aren't they supposed to answer questions?"

[awokentospring]

Lee woke with a gasp, the second day in a row to awaken in a cold sweat and in a bed housed in the institute. Disoriented from the sudden shift back inside after the terrifying attack last night on the road, Lee wasn't sure if he was dreaming or awake. Had they managed to make it to a hospital in another town? But no, he was greeted by the smiling face of nurse Todd.

"How did I get back here?" Lee asked, sitting up in his bed. A shot of pain ran the length of his right arm and he winced, looking down. The arm he had pulled in the breaking of the door and worsened during the fight with the tailypo had been placed in a cast. He hadn't noticed the stiffness before, but perhaps that was because he had held this arm so tightly against him during the fight.

Ignoring his question, the nurse merely announced it was breakfast time and ushered Lee on to the cafeteria. The ninja, just as perplexed as he had been the morning before, allowed his nurse to again dish him up a tray of food then moved to sit at a table. Dazed, Lee blinked down at his food, then turned his gaze to his hands. At least now one of his arms was covered in bandages. Unfortunately, the left one was the worst when it came to scarring. It had been scoured nearly skinless by Gaara's sand coffin attack years ago, but the blotchy pale scars still remained.

Retraining his mind on his food, Lee fought against the urge to feel self-conscious by attempting to eat left-handed. It wasn't the worst he'd had to endure in the past. Like all things, he would figure out a way to power through it.

[For Vriska-san!]

is this okay

[br8kspider]

Vriska’s first morning at Landel’s came as a shock to her system. The unusual surroundings themselves were the first thing to set alarm bells off in her head. She realized that she was kidnapped somehow, without even the single clear remembrance of exactly when it had happened. But it was undeniable that it involved knocking her out.

The contraption underneath her was less comfortable than the slime she remembered having slept in. It only further begged the question of where she was. She expected nothing that was forthright, should she have her answer given...

Vriska looked down at her hands, one prosthetic and one pink--

The train of thought halted immediately upon her notice that her right hand was no longer the grey color it should be. Instead, it was kind of pink, and softer than the hand she was used to. It was as if it had been wiped clean of any calluses whatsoever, which would have resulted of her work in her tough life. With that in mind, she had brought her right hand up to examine it closely. Then, she brought it up to her face and she could feel that it was soft as well, maybe even softer. At this, Vriska frowned, which eventually evolved into a scowl.

She roused herself from the bed, and searched for a reflective surface to see what she looked like. The interruption of her inner freakout at the sudden species change came when she heard the door of her room open. Her instincts screamed at her to reach for a weapon of some type, and that is what she tried to do. Except, she soon discovered not even her inventory was on her.

Nothing was.

There was a woman standing in front of her in some lightly colored clothing that seemed close to white but not quite. The woman’s hair was black, tied into a bun, and her eyes were a dark green. She had the similar skin color as her.

Vriska viewed her with suspicion, was already tense, with hands ready to do some serious damage. She heard the woman say, with a pleasantly fake smile, “Good morning, Viktoria. I’m glad to see you’re awake. Now, I’d like for you to come with me--”

Vriska kindly interrupted with, “--Wait a goddamned minute. Where am I?”

The woman titled her head at the girl, and said, “You’re at Landel’s Institute. Don’t you remember, Viktoria? Or is this another one of your ‘moments’?”

Vriska narrowed her eyes, as she didn't like the answer. She considered socking the nurse in the face just then. But, something about the reply made her think a bit more. It was only because she was sure she would probably get nowhere with an enemy so powerful here. She needed to think like Mindfang did to get out of ridiculously stacked against odds, and make the right gambles.

With that in mind, Vriska relaxed her tensed fists, and uncurled them. She stood straight up, instead of crouching like she was about to leap at someone without any restraint. She found it was easier to hold back than it usually was, and it may have to do with this kind of new body she had. She asked, “Oh yeah? That’s my name now? The hell is with this kind of body?”

The woman seemed even more perturbed and replied, “Now you’re saying even more strange things. I do hope it’s not your fantasies getting out of control.”

Vriska quite literally had to bite her tongue from lashing out at her. Maybe that’s exactly what this woman wanted, and she couldn’t give her the satisfaction of getting her to that point. Instead, in her mind, gears turned of a sort of yet unpolished, imperfect plan. It would be a test, a gamble, to see if she would benefit from this.

Vriska allowed herself a fake smile to make its way upon her lips. “Really now? You know, you have been looking over me for a while. Some things just end up becoming easy to forget, and I know you would know that of me. So, while you’re taking me wherever, tell me all about this place...”

Vriska added, in a quieter tone, “...bitch.”

Somehow, the woman doesn’t even seem to notice it or pay attention. Instead she beckoned her to come to breakfast, and on the way there, said, “It seems like you did manage to forget. Maybe I’ll tell you everything later.”

Vriska gave up the act and instead showed the woman the double bird with her two middle fingers. She said, “Yeah, fuck you too! I’ll be making you eat your shit soon enough.”

With that, she headed straight off, and not bothered to even check back to see the look on the woman’s face. She was looking for answers, and someone here would have them.

Vriska was absolutely rowdy and rude when she got her food. She casually bumped into other people, stole some of their food, or just tripped them for kicks. Then she looked around until her gaze settled on the black-haired boy. She finally decided to plop herself down right across from Lee. She snapped, "Hey, you. I don't usually sit next to doofy-looking people, but I thought you might be a bit different. Are you a fighter or what? Did you get your ass kicked by these nurses?"

[longlivetheking]

Despite any unpleasant implications of his 'supposed absence', Scar realized that there were several things he was certain he wouldn't have missed, the head doctor's voice rambling over the intercom being the chronologically first on the list. After all, it seemed very few things had changed.

Second were the infuriating females who referred to themselves as 'nurses'. One of them had, as always, barged into the room the very moment Scar awakened, completely oblivious to her irritating ignorance. She refused to provide him with any concrete explanations regarding his apparent absence, and by the time Scar reached the cafeteria the only thing he had learned was that the weather outside was simply delightful.

And third: human food.

Though Scar did not find the abomination lying on his plate among the absolute worst of what he had already been subjected to, he still couldn't help but make a face once the aforementioned female excuse of human species had left him to his devices.

He supposed recent developments hardly made the food any more appetizing: if Link had indeed been telling the truth that the origin of the illness was to be found in one's stomach, thinking that the food may have had something to do with it was not much of a stretch. A glance around the cafeteria made the range of affected patients quite visible even for one as inexperienced with human conditions as Scar was, so there were plenty of reasons to think that the boy had not lied.

Nonetheless, the only other remaining option was starving himself.

[The Scarecrow]

[scarefaux]

The Scarecrow had the best intentions in the night: determined thoughts of leaving his room, wandering the hallways until he either found or thought of a cure for the infection, ridding himself of it, then making as much progress as he could toward one of his many goals. They needed to find a way out; they all had friends they had lost, ones who needed help because they were bewitched by Wizard Landel. He wasn't sure how to help them with his brain as muddled as it was from what he could only assume were effects of the sickness, but he was sure if he put his human mind to it, he could accomplish anything. He was getting nowhere by not trying, right?

He was also getting nowhere when he ended up staying in his room all night, weariness having set into him in the day, robbing him of even the strength to walk. The same exhaustion pushed through until the morning- though the day was early, he could already feel his limbs fighting against him, his stomach grumbling for reasons unknown. He had a hard enough time distinguishing the various sensations of the human body from one another, which wasn't entirely surprising given his unfamiliarity with them. His bare feet on the floor had once felt so pleasing in a way he couldn't describe- that sensation no longer seemed to be there as he was instead riddled with one that left him sweating almost constantly, his breath unsteady as if he'd been running from one of the witches of Landel's, body trembling nearly all the time.

The nurse gave him the same sad look she'd given him when she'd left him at his door the night before, offering him a few pills to take with his breakfast- he took them with a brave smile, scratching idly at his arm as he wondered what that strange gurgling sensation in his middle was. She wore a lighter mood that day, a small and hopeful smile on her lips as she'd found something— correction, someone— who might cheer him up, despite his fatigue. She collected a few items for him onto his breakfast tray, insisting he stay away from the food, chattering as she came back to him.

"Now you take a seat with your friend Mr. Irons," she offered, setting his tray on the table. "You remember him, don't you?"

Even before she asked, the Scarecrow was sliding into his seat, a smile wearing its way into him. The nurse hummed as she wandered away, pleased to see her sickly ward so lively for a change.

"Scar!" he said hoarsely, voice raspy. He would have hugged the former lion had there not been a table in the way. "And here I thought I might never see you again!"

[stop_the_rain]

Already he had slipped into the routine. It was impossible not to, for a man like him. It was prison. The destinations were different but the routine was all the same. It was painful, how comfortable and familiar that was. He hated that during the day, he felt normal here. Like this was right and proper and how he'd always lived his life. Sitting here with a tray in front of him and guards watching was just more of the same.

It didn't even bother him that they never called him 'Murphy' or 'Pendleton'. He'd been just a number for so long, another man's name wasn't that strange. At least it was a name. And it wasn't like he could be Murphy Pendleton anymore anyway.

But the same dark shadows that gripped him in prison were gripping him again. Except worse, in a way, because in prison the only evil he'd dealt with was the sort he'd climbed into bed with of his own accord. Here...

What was the point? What the hell could he do, to make any difference to anyone? He tried to help, but...no one wanted his help. He wasn't even given the chance to try and fail anymore.

Maybe this really was God's punishment for him.

[For Seishin!]

[unpriest]

Seishin might not have known what to expect of the last remaining unknown of the basement, but being subjected to the advances of a talking skeleton who had ended up mistaking him for a woman was something he had failed to anticipate. The ordeal had quickly evolved into lie, a fragile facade that would not hold forever. One that was unnecessary in the end, considering passage across the lake into whatever twisted Hell lay beyond came with a price. Alas, how to break the truth to their only ferryman?

But with the arrival of dawn came the sudden awakening back in his room, and he bitterly realized that Silvestri-san's payment had been for naught. Was any of the trials that awaited them truly worth the end result? It was not the first time Seishin wondered, but the only answer was to press on, to keep walking in that maze until fate would decide to put him out of his misery. He had already strayed from its path, it was a matter of time before he would be lost without hope of salvation. If only he could confirm that Sunako was safe before finding an ending, that was all he had to hold on to.

There were already people in the cafeteria, and though Seishin would have preferred to eat in solitude, the nurse once more deemed the novelist incapable of making his own decisions under the assumption that he 'should make more friends'. Any feelings of resentment never quite made it to his facial expression as he was led to a chair across a stranger -- years of being Sotoba's puppet had forced him to hone the art of hiding his inner darkness none would care to see.

"My apologies," he offered quietly to the other man once the nurse had left, "I did not intend to disturb you."

[stellarregions]

Usually, morning was a welcomed sort of relief, a welcomed break from everything that happened under the cover of darkness, but that simply wasn't the case this morning.

On waking, it was apparent that whatever Hakkai had done for him the night before, it had worn off, and Gren was left feeling worse than ever, nearly as bad has he had that first morning after the experiments. He didn't want to get up--everything hurt, and moving felt like too much effort--but the staff didn't seem to care. And then there was the terrible choice... whether to give up on his efforts to ween himself off of whatever the drug they kept plying him with was, or tough it out another day.

There was no guarantee that things would get better, but it was hard to imagine he could actually feel worse, and in the end, sheer stubbornness on his part won out. He didn't want this place to have more control over him than necessary, even if it meant more suffering on his part. He'd take this thing one day at a time.

It was reasonably busy in the cafeteria by the time he made it there, loaded down with a plate of food there was no chance of him being able to stomach, but there were still some empty, quiet spots left and he all but fell into his seat. Breakfast promptly ignored, he sat there sipping slowly at a glass of water and tried his best to look like he felt much better than he really did.

[Open]

[idolism]

_[free.]

Time and the security of night’s embrace, two things a vampire was supposed to have in abundance. A long-lived creature like himself wasn’t supposed to feel unease after sundown and cringe at the passing of every minute--it just wasn’t natural. They ruled the night, the night didn’t rule them. But Landel’s Institute had turned the tables and it was all Aidou could do to bite back his frustration at another unsatisfactory nightshift.

Aigis was sicker and ever, and now Sasuke was… who even knew! Missing, or dead, or back to napping for days on end. The basement remained a mystery and Aidou only had bits and pieces to go on where the “cure” was concerned. All in all, not a successful venture by any stretch of the imagination.

And he was hungry.

After reading over the bulletin, Aidou slunk into the cafeteria and sat down with his tray in as shadowed a corner as he could find. He was almost too tired to even be angry; mostly he was too busy trying to organize his thoughts and put the facts in their proper order.

[maverickhunterx]

X had been hoping to find a shadowy corner in which to write in his journal in peace. He hadn't had much of a chance to recount everything from last night, but with his now human mind (impeccable as his memory was), it was still a good idea to write things down. Think through things with pen and paper rather than just piecing it together through code and computer screens like he may have done normally.

He'd started in it, of course, and found a system that actually sort of worked: Each night he'd spent in this place so far would be to a corresponding line on the page; once he filled that line on one page, he'd go to the next, and then the next, and then the next. It was perhaps a bit tedious to some (and maybe seeming a bit insane), but that was the point.

Make it harder for someone who found it to read through it, in case one of the Nurses managed to find it and report it to Landel.

He'd also done other things; like replace certain words with code words, phrases and things only X would understand, to make it his own notes, and his alone. He'd had to get used to writing without typing tools, but his motor skills handled all right, and a scribbling mess was replaced with neat, almost typing font-esque handwriting.

There was so much he needed to write about. Like the location of tools. The monster. All the other things he'd learned since he was here...

Balancing his tray in one hand, and holding a journal with a pencil in the other, he made his way to a place, trying at least to buck his nurse so he could get started on his proje--

--Oh.

Just as he'd set his tray down, he noticed belatedly that there was someone there, a patient he'd never seen before.

Mumbling a quiet, polite greeting to his companion, X arranged his plate, trying his best to do what he'd remembered learning last breakfast; put food in the oral orfice, move his mouth, then clench his throat to put it down his gullet.

Unfortunately, this was a slow process, lest he end up choking (lesson learned from last night's dinner).

[atrabilis]

If he had sense to spare, Nigredo might have exercised greater discretion.

A faltering constitution and dwindling wits proved to be quite the obstinate barrier, however, and he easily slipped into careless behavior. He paid little attention to his surroundings, allowed his nurse to drag him to his "morning obligation", and for once, the child could not gather the fortitude necessary to seek out his partially absent brother.

Instead, his body prioritized survival above all else. Whether this would come to naught remained to be seen.

He did, however, managed to wear a sweatshirt to cover the rash pressed into his arm. As long as no one looked too closely, Nigredo was nothing more than a body. An overly warm body with arms draped over his head, perhaps, but practically harmless. After all, monsters did not enjoy their impromptu naps against the cafeteria tables.

[Free!]

[somesoulsearching]

[*BOTHERS!!!*]

It was all in his head. Yes, that was all it was. Had to be all it was. Otherwise Brook couldn't find any real explanation for having at the very least thought that his body had looked stitched up at one point the previous night. He'd be a lot more accepting of going crazy if it meant not turning into a zombie.

The sickness was probably to blame however. Running around while ill hadn't been one of his better ideas. He hadn't found what he was looking for either, so the entire night would have been better spent just staying in. Tonight he'd do that.

For the day though, he wanted to put the scary thoughts from mind and, if he could, take the same things from another's mind as well. There were a lot here just as ill and maybe just as frightened. A child had already caught Brook's eye by the time he was getting his food. Being so young here had to be hard enough without all the nightmares. Once Brook thanked the server, he headed for the table where the boy was sitting. "Would it be all right if I joined you?" he asked somewhat calmly. Even Brook's own usual cheer was a bit lacking, but he tried his best to seem energetic with the request.

[age_of_kings]

Honestly, despite his condition - of course he'd feel sick to his stomach at breakfast! - and what had transpired the night before...Tolten was hopeful. It could have gone so very much worse. And while he was sore and miserable and couldn't choke down even the tiniest bite of food, at least he knew Locke was physically alright.

Mentally and emotionally, well....

The young king was already nervously watching the door, waiting for a glimpse of the other man. He couldn't even begin to imagine what Locke had to be feeling this morning. But he supposed he still had a chance to find out. He still felt as though he were walking with one foot in the grave, and the mental and emotional toll of this place seemed to make it worse.

Perhaps he wasn't as hopeful as he'd thought...

[For Locke!]

[seekingmystrength]

He knew where the room was now, but not why it was important. The only conclusion he could reach was that he'd missed too much from the night he'd passed out. The message on the intercom had already said as much, that there would be "another clue". So he'd missed one and had no idea how to interpret what ones he had seen.

No matter what he tried, he only ended up with more questions, one of which went onto the bulletin before his nurse forced him off to the cafeteria. As she left him to get his meal he looked around from his seat, searching for someone he hadn't seen in a while.

[free]

[voiceofthanatos]

[From here]

As Yuri was shuffled around from his room to the cafeteria, he grilled as much information as he could about Landel's from the staff members. He managed to learn a few things. That it was a mental institute, his "real" name and that his own mother had sent him here. He had to almost bitterly laugh at that notion. While his mother hated his guts, she also couldn't function outside of a nursing home without him being home. He was surprised they didn't take her instead.

But what's done is done. No matter how much he tried to ask nicely, he couldn't see the head of the institute and it was fruitless to try with all the nurses blocking his path like trained robots. Now he had to look for a phone, computer or anything that would allow him communication with the outside world when he had the chance. He knew this facility has to have contact with the outside world and with a high profile judge gone missing, that would cause quite a ruckus back home.

At least he didn't have to wake up to somebody yelling at him- oh wait.

He made his way through the line, his hair extra droopy today as if it was connected to his mood. The staff handling the food served him up a hearty portion of breakfast as a sort of welcoming gift. Yuri wasn't up for eating any of it.

"Excuse me, do you serve tea here?" He requested.

"Oh yes, coming right up." The lady gave a fake plastic smile and walked to the back of the room behind the counter. A few moments later and she produced a cup and a pot of boiled tea. She served it to him in a timely matter.

"There you go, anything else?"

"Do you have any... honey?" His eyes scanned the condiment packs.

"One second." Like clockwork, she produced a packet for him.

"Thank you very much." He thanked the lady for letting him enjoy a small comfort from home.

A nurse waiting for him at the end of the line escorted him to the tables, as if he was a small child in kindergarten again. He wanted to feel insulted but there were bigger fish to fry. In any case, he sat down at a lone table in one corner. While squeezing out the drops of sweet oozing honey out of the packet, he took in a view of the surroundings; noting the amount of colorful characters inside. The patients themselves actually looked more human to him and perhaps more willing to give honest answers.

[free]