Day 67: Dinner

[damned_intercom]

"Goodness, is it really already time for dinner? Time certainly does fly! And such a lovely day, too. I certainly wouldn't mind having a nice cup of cocoa out on the patio or something..."

That was how the Head Doctor greeted them, although it apparently didn't take him long to realize he'd gotten a little off topic.

"Now then, it's time for the nurses to escort you all back to your rooms, where you'll have the opportunity to tuck into a scrumptious plate of turkey and gravy. And, of course, we always carry vegetarian options for those who don't eat meat. We also have our usual assortment of water, juice and milk.

"Also, some of you will be receiving some extra help in warding off whatever bug some of us have been catching. Please take care, everyone, and be sure to wash your hands! I'll talk to you all again later. Enjoy your dinner."

The intercom clicked off, leaving patients with the prospect of preparing for yet another grueling Nightshift.

((Respond to this post with your character's room number in the subject line. New room assignments are listed here. If you have any questions, let us know!))

Comments

M2

[envy_the_sinners]

Scar followed his nurse back to M2 once again and settled at his desk to eat. Tonight, his objective was simple. He needed to find Frank, to make sure that he would be okay. He had been told specifically that he wasn't wanted, but he'd be damned if he left someone who called him a friend to face transformation by himself. Scar didn't want to imagine that beast set loose on the crowded hallways.

He ignored the intercom as he always did. During the 'day' the asshole behind it never said anything of use.

Scar did glance sideways at it, though, when he mentioned 'extra help in warding off whatever bug some of us have been catching.' Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with him. But he did have allies who weren't sick. This could either be very good or very bad...

The Ishbalan started on his dinner, expecting the thin, quiet man to show up soon, as he always did.

Re: M2

[fallenbeanpole]

Thin the Once-ler was, but at the moment he was far from quiet. As soon as his nurse turned him down the first hallway of the patient blocks he had started protesting. This wasn't the way to his room, he'd began, but was cut off by the woman patiently explaining that since his roommate had been released, they needed to place him with another man. And since 'Lesley Matthews' had spent a longer tenure in the institute, the Once-ler had the joy of moving.

The whole situation would not have been much of a problem, had the Once-ler actually taken the seed with him during the day.

"You don't understand; I left something in my room! I need to go get it!" the Once-ler insisted as he was steered through the door. "It'll take me, what, five minutes? Not even that!"

The nurse simply shook her head while firmly directing the man to his desk for dinner. "Mr. Braddock, I assure you, all your clothes and other supplies have been moved in advance."

"It's not that! It's..." the Once-ler trailed off. He wasn't supposed to have the seed, was he? Best not to risk it. "It's just something important!"

"We can check M99 again, if it will make you feel better. But you really should get something to eat now." With a final gentle but firm tug, she seated him at his desk, then exited the room. In a beat, the Once-ler was back on his feet and at the door, jiggling the locked handle in vain.

Frustrated, the man slammed the door with his fist, regretting it seconds later when he was reminded about how solid doors actually were.

"Dammit!"

M11

[stop_the_rain]

Talk about an up and down day. Murphy figured he was doing okay, but...

He'd read about what happened to his roommate last shift, and he went with his nurse to dinner with a heavy ball in the pit of his stomach. He and Harvey hadn't been close, not even what you'd call friends, but the man had been a damn good cellie. And just another in a long line of people who'd been connected to Murphy that had died. How much could a guy really take?

And who was his new cellmate? He'd never had to deal with that before, he'd spent a lot of time in solitary and before that he'd been granted the privilege of a private cell. The room was empty when the nurse ushered him in, and he was about to head to his desk for dinner when she stopped him with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

F1

[a_sin_for_him]

Lust had made up her mind not to make the same mistake as last night. To hell with attempting to find Scar, she'd simply go in search of the cure the board had been abuzz with. She supposed she should have asked someone to accompany her, but who? She wasn't about to ask Lingormr, considering the nature of her quest. And attempting to ask Scar himself...

She didn't honestly feel like another ride on the emotional carousel from hell.

She supposed she'd find someone, she always did. There were bound to be dozens of other prisoners, heading in the same general direction. For the moment, she supposed she ought to gather her strength and actually eat.

Sitting at the desk, she wondered idly if her roommate knew much about the illness and cure...

M6

[his_legacy]

Finding somebody willing to lend him a real sword did little to lighten Link's mood. The truth of Sora's death hit him harder than it had all day when his nurse closed the door behind him as he entered the room. The intercom's message fell on deaf ears as stared at the empty bed. They hadn't even placed food on Sora's desk.

Leaning heavily against the now closed door, Link sank to the ground, unable to tear his eyes from Sora's bed. That damnable tightness had come back to his throat, and breath came unsteady. The same words that had been playing all day in his head were back to repeating: Link had failed. He hadn't been strong enough. Sora was dead. An innocent boy was dead. Link slammed his fist against the wall, ignoring the pain that shot up his arm. What kind of a hero couldn't even keep one innocent boy alive?

He wasn't hungry. He didn't want food. He'd been holding it in all day for the sake of everyone else, but goddesses help him, he couldn't any longer. He just needed a moment on his own. The others couldn't see him so weakened. Link was unsure of exactly when tears started collecting in his eyes, but he paid them no mind, now.

Just give him a moment. He could pull it together. There were still other people who needed help. His help. This wouldn't happen again.

M79

[dividedby]

'Some extra help', huh? That was the last thing Zero needed to be hearing when his day had been filled with nothing but negativity and heavy conversation. The latter had been inevitable, and Zero was kind of thankful it was over now...but it was still very exhausting regardless. Being shoved into the Music Room? Not inevitable. Pointless. Irritating.

So obviously he wasn't in the best of moods when his nurse came by to take him back to his room. (Or would 'cell' be a more appropriate word to describe it?) She ignored any noticeable grumpiness, like usual, and decided to add oil to the fire instead by going on and on about good health and the spreading sickness and 'I hope you've been washing your hands today, Yūdai' and 'If you start feeling sick, let me know right away!' Joy. To make matters worse, she was even holding on to his arm as they walked through the halls, as if he were a disobedient child that needed to be led back to his room for a time-out. No amount of protesting could make her let him go. It was almost enough to make Zero try to fight to get away if he didn't understand that getting a 'calming' injection so close to nightfall would be a very dangerous thing.

What did he even do? It was like she treated him less and less like a self-capable person as the days went by. If only there was some way to just be rid of her...

Unfortunately, arriving at his room was not the end of it, unlike most evenings. In fact, he made things worse for himself without knowing it right away. So eager was he to get away from that annoying woman that he refused to look at her once they got into the room, trying to pull his arm free - which he only learned was a huge mistake when he suddenly felt something prick that arm. By the time he noticed and understood what that feeling meant, the nurse, looking quite proud of herself, had already withdrawn the needle.

She had learned from that fight, apparently. As she released her now exponentially more upset patient, she informed him with a smile, "Don't look like that, Yūdai. I told you, it's just a little something to help fight off the sickness. It'll be good for you! Now, go and eat your dinner."

And she was gone before he could get any sort of word in otherwise, leaving him with a mixture of alarmed, agitated feelings.

[impudentsongbird]

Gabriel had unintentionally gone overtime. Or maybe Rachel had let him; he wasn't sure. Either way, he was one of the last ones out of the music room, and then only because Rachel came up and interrupted him in the middle of an idle, contemplative melody. It was almost a shock to be broken out of his reverie. For a few moments, or minutes, Gabriel had actually managed to forget where he was. On one hand, that was nice. On the other, it was unnerving. Forgetting his surroundings like that ... it wasn't something angels usually did.

"What does he mean?" the Archangel asked of Landel as Rachel led him back to his room. "Some extra help?" That didn't sound good. Gabriel didn't want anything from Landel. Nothing at all.

Rachel patted him on the arm. "It's just a little inoculation, dear. Nothing to worry about."

Yes. Definitely something Gabriel didn't want anything to do with. How many times had he witnessed Lucifer's lackeys tampering with medicine? How many times had he seen Raphael raging over what he called those underhanded methods? (To which Michael, of course, had always asked him which Lucifer he was thinking of: the one who attacked Heaven or some imaginary friend?)

"I'd rather not, please," Gabe said a bit anxiously. "I--I don't like needles."

Rachel gave him a gentle smile, the sort given to a frightened child, and patted his arm. "It's just a little pinch, Noah. It hardly hurts at all. I promise."

She left her hand on his elbow, Gabe noticed, and they were approaching his room, and so he pulled back. His stomach was turning over. "I haven't been sick. I'm okay, really. If I was going to get sick, wouldn't I have done that already?"

"We're not sure of the incubation period, dear," Rachel said gently but firmly, but Gabriel couldn't very well fight her without actually hurting her--and that was something he didn't want to do. She was probably innocent. He couldn't knowingly and willingly hurt an innocent woman. Which meant that when she opened the door and propelled him forward with a not-exactly-surprisingly strong grip, he didn't have much choice but to follow, still clutching his banjo.

"Wait a minute--" he started, trying to pull away, but the action only jostled the needle as it entered his skin and the Archangel hissed.

"Don't wriggle," Rachel scolded him, pressing the plunger and then withdrawing the needle again. Gabriel bit his lip while she did, blinking rapidly, and said nothing when she patted his arm. "There. Enjoy your dinner, Noah."

Then she left and Gabriel stared down at his elbow, his stomach turning over. What was going to happen to him now? An actual illness? Hallucinations? Turning into a monster himself? Nothing at all?

All of a sudden he really didn't feel very hungry.

M3

[knightspirit]

Another day gone, and Kyousuke couldn't be more thankful. Somehow, he'd managed to regain a little energy, or perhaps lost it; nearly the entire day had been spent fighting with himself, trying to control the impulse to mask difficulties in anger, and learning to accept that his sudden emotional upheaval was present instead of trying to shut it out. Trying to refuse it had only made it worse, and it was only by stopping to consider how others might be affected that he finally stopped resisting. As it was, he was exhausted and heavy in multiple senses, but he was finally beginning to regain a sense of purpose. ... Things didn't stop here. There was still too much to do.

The nurse left him with more painkillers before leaving for the night, and he opted to save them instead of instead of taking them right away. If he took them too early, the effect wouldn't last the night, and in spite of his condition, he still had every intention of going out. In truth, he held little hope for the result of his errand, but it was the right thing to do regardless of the outcome. If investigating the morgue could put people's minds to rest, that was enough, for now.

With no nurses around to scold him for it, Kyousuke finally pulled himself out of the wheelchair he didn't really need, taking a moment to carefully stretch in a way that wouldn't put too much strain on his stitches. The motion stung, particularly in his broken rib, but it was easy to ignore, because while the pain was far from mild, after two days, he was beginning to grow used to it. After that, he heaved himself onto his bed, ignoring the dinner set out for him. For now, all he wanted was a small nap, so that exhaustion wouldn't take its toll tonight.

As he'd been afraid of, trying to relax caused the scene of that living hell to replay in his mind, but he clenched a fist, trying to bear with it instead of getting back up. .... It happened, and there was no changing that. The sooner he could learn to live with that, the better. This wasn't the first time his world had suddenly been flipped around, and he knew far too well what trying to hold on too fiercely could to do someone. He didn't want to repeat that ever again.

M67

[asteroidbelt]

As it turned out, Ryusei was pulled away before he'd had a chance to ask her name. He'd be sure to get it next time. For now, the nurse wanted to give him an injection for whatever illness was going around, which struck him as possibly irresponsible (it was yesterday that Frank looked like hell).

That taken care of, Ryusei turned back to dinner. He should eat it, but he was feeling restless. He got up and flopped onto the bed instead. He was gradually coming to realize that something seemed off about this entire place.

M6

[ever_loyal_dog]

Daylight was fading and he was no closer to getting any solid answers or finding anyone from Ayakashi-kan. The situation was enough to make him edgy, nervous, and did nothing to ease his worry over his master, Ririchiyo.

The voice chimed over the announcement system once again, and Soushi was escorted back toward the room he'd woken up in. He did take the nurses up on their offer to allow him to wash up. There was something comforting in going through the motions, though he didn't feel any cleaner after drying them on the paper towels and returning to the room.

Even though the food didn't look terrible, he was hesitant, once again, to eat what they put in front of him. If the people here weren't above human experimentation, there was no way to be certain it was safe, even if this was the only meal they allowed him to eat in the privacy of his own room. He drank about half his glass of water, but touched little else. How could he eat when he didn't know whether or not Ririchiyo was safe?

Perhaps he was looking at this wrong, he reasoned. If the staff were the ones who became monsters, perhaps he'd been put here by mistake? Maybe it was the staff he ought to be looking for, asking about, trying to find familiar faces among. The residents of Ayakashi were all descended from myth and legend, often called monsters or worse, and while he had nothing against the humans in this place, it might be more likely that his master was among the staff in this place.

Though the thought of Ririchiyo-sama in a nurse's attire was enough to distract him for a few moments, he quickly returned to the task at hand. If what the other patients told him was correct, when night fell, he'd be able to leave his room. How then, to prepare? A quick search of the room earned him a flashlight, but the pens and paper in the drawer were much less useful. Unless he were writing letters. Which was not, altogether, a bad idea. He sat on the nearest bed, flashlight beside him, journal resting on his lap.

M8

[voiceofthanatos]

For today, Yuri was pulled away before he could start on his dinner. Before he knew it, he was guided into receiving some type of injection. A vaccination towards the monster epidermic, he wasn't entirely convinced of it. Vaccinations couldn't be approved this quickly, could they? But the nurses were more forceful than usual it seems, and protesting proved futile. After a few minutes it was all said and done. He rubbed his temples, frustration building up inside.

Was this it? Being reduced to the hospital's guinea pig?

After it was all said and done, he went back to his meal. He was going to enjoy it quietly at his desk, without talking to his roommate at all. He just wasn't in the mood for chit chat now, unless Riley had something of importance to say.

M10

[ofthemotions]

...He had been moved rooms again. Hadn't he just been moved before-- But Izaya had said that was days ago now, and Mikado was still trying to wrap his head around it. It was enough of a focus that the boy didn't realize at first when the nurse followed him inside instead of simply closing the door to leave.

After the night before last, Mikado was more than a little worried. He watched the woman, his one good eye nervous and alert.

"Come now, there's no need for that," she chided, slipping a hand into her pockets. "You must know by now that some of the patients have been getting sick recently. You've been healthy so far, Kenta; we don't want you catching ill." When her hand appeared again, she was holding a small syringe. "It's an immune booster--think of it like a flu shot." She smiled reassuringly, and Mikado wondered if he should still be wary.

That man--Castiel--had said as much, that people were becoming... infected. And Izaya hadn't seemed surprised when Mikado brought it up. So maybe... Maybe there was nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.

He nodded once, head jerking a little nervously, and allowing her to find a vein and inject him with whatever substance what in it. Inject or infect, huh? It was so ridiculous it wasn't even funny.

[idolism]

In general, Aidou didn't much care for his cellmates; they were finite resources that always seemed to disappear at some point. Ippo had been a fairly uninteresting child as far as human roommates were concerned, but the noble was still irritated to see him go. It meant moving.

Aidou had been in M52 for so long that being told--no, being ordered--to join his new roommate in M10 pissed him off. Although he knew all of his things were probably rifled through and cataloged regularly, having them moved to a new room was outright obnoxious, and now he had to rearrange his plan to visit Sasuke right away, and--

When he got to the door with his own nurse in tow, he was just in time to witness a strange sight. That was a syringe, wasn't it? And the recipient a boy. Seeing one of the staff members finishing up with some kind of injection effectively interrupted his thoughts. What depraved activities were going on now? He could smell the pinprick of blood that welled up with the needle's passage, and it made him raise an eyebrow, stone-faced.

They wouldn't dare try something like that with him, would they? It didn't seem like it...

Having stopped just inside the door, Aidou watched until everything was over. Then he said, "That's probably going to be quite bad for you, I hope you know."

F14

[gald_digger]

Time really did fly today. Anise didn't get to do very much, but that was probably for the best. Even if she felt way better than she did yesterday, she was still recovering, and she didn't want to mess that up.

Once she was in her room, Anise sat down at her desk and immediately began eating. She was pretty hungry, which wasn't surprising considering how little she ate in the past few days. It felt good to finally get some food in her stomach without feeling nauseous afterward.

That flower really was the cure after all. Thinking back to her state of mind just last night, Anise could hardly believe it. She had been ready to resign herself to some amateur surgery, something so painful and messy and potentially deadly, anything to stop the illness before it changed her in some horrible way. She couldn't believe there had been a safer, easier way. Anise probably owed her friends some thanks for that. Now that one nightmare was over, Anise finally felt like she could move forward again.

The Head Doctor's words worried her, though. 'Extra help' in warding off the bug? That couldn't be anything good. Anise hoped her friends were in the clear... but there was no way to know that until after nightfall.

[stylebythemile]

The only thing in the announcement that held her interest was the part about Landel giving them some 'extra help'. Wait, what? Uh-oh. Sounded like he was on the verge of a breakthrough; on how to make their lives harder, that is.

Anise was first to the room. Sonia managed a small smile and a wave as she walked over to her own desk. Though her growling stomach was telling her the opposite, she honestly didn't feel like eating, but she had to. They finally trusted her enough to lead a mission; she had to keep her strength up. Even if doing so might potentially poison her, she thought warily.

"Hi, Anise," she greeted as brightly as she could. This time yesterday, Sora... She steeled herself and looked back at the girl. Hmm... Was it just her, or was Anise looking better today? Had she been one of the people to find the cure last night? At any rate, she had a healthy appetite. "So are you going to the greenhouse tonight?"

F15

[thecamellia]

It had been a long day--a very long day. On the walk back to her room, Tsubaki barely paid attention to the Head Doctor's announcement, more concerned about the empty cell she was returning to now that Rapunzel was gone. It was only when she went to sit down and the nurse put a hand on her arm that Tsubaki snapped back to attention.

Hmm--?

"Before you start your dinner, I've got something for you to help keep your strength up while the hospital's dealing with this flu," the nurse said, but the words didn't make a whole lot of sense until the woman reached into her uniform and came back with a small syringe. "Think of it like a booster shot. It should help prevent you from getting sick, too."

That was when Tsubaki realized what the nurse wanted from her. Some of the patients were supposed to receive "extra help," wasn't that what Landel had been saying?

Extra help. An injection.

She stared at the unknown liquid in the syringe and felt herself start to tense. No, she didn't want something strange inside her. It wasn't a good idea! The nurse, on the other hand, seemed to mistake her reaction for nerves. "It's okay, honey, they only hurt for a minute. Here we go--" The hand returned to her arm, pushing her shirt sleeve up, and Tsubaki bit back her protest, teeth digging into her lower lip.

The injection was over in an instant, leaving her feeling a little sluggish and dazed. You should have said something, stupid. Now what do I do!?

Tsubaki didn't have the answer to that question, not even after she was left alone to hold her sore arm. She knew, deep down, that whatever had been given to her, it probably wasn't anything good. The substance in the vial had been a calculated risk, but this... This was bad.

M12

[baniichan]

He awoke to the savory smell of turkey and gravy. Blinking slowly, Barnaby gave himself enough time to adjust to the lighting in the room before sitting up in bed. Once he located his glasses, he slipped them over his face to find a plate of food waiting for him on his desk.

The nurse must have quietly come and gone when she brought dinner. Whether she'd intentionally tried not to disturb him wasn't all that relevant, although Barnaby was annoyed at himself for not noticing her presence sooner. Even if the medicine had made him terribly drowsy, that was no excuse.

He should have been better than this, he thought to himself as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Falling to pieces like that wasn't something he could afford to do a second time. When he replayed that entire disaster through his mind, though, tears threatened to sting at his eyes again.

Unbelievable. Then again, he couldn't even trust in his own abilities anymore, and he was still struggling to decide how angry he was with Kotetsu for hiding things from him. Again.

Barnaby didn't even know what to believe in anymore.

At any rate, all of Kotetsu's squawking before their separation apparently hadn't had much merit behind it. The staff had done exactly what they'd promised they were going to do -- that is, bring him to his room and let him get some rest. Of course, just because they made good on their word didn't mean they could trust them. His partner's suspicion was rightly deserved, and the fact he'd staunchly fought against the nurses and orderlies for his sake still managed to make his heart tighten in a way that no one else could.

Even so, his failure to recognize when he was dealing with a lost cause struck Barnaby as incredibly foolish. Now the old man was likely drooling all over himself, wondering what on earth he ought to do in such a shameful state.

Sort of like what he was doing now, Barnaby realized. Well. At least he wasn't so blinded by pride that he couldn't be honest with himself.

Not yet ready to go near his food, Barnaby leaned his head back and rested his eyes for a few more moments.

M44

[earthling]

As the nurse came to escort Claude to his room, he had to fight really hard to not look like a kid who had managed to steal some cookies from the cookie jar. That wasn't too hard the minute he hard the Head Doctor say something about giving patients medicine, though. That put a damper on his mood, especially when he remembered how he felt the last time anyone in Landel's Institute had given him an injection against his will.

He sure as hell hoped that it was just an empty show of normalcy instead of a repeat of that whole fiasco. In this place, though? Claude knew better than to hold his breath.

More than anything, he just wanted his friends to be okay.

Still, now wasn't the time to lose his nerve or get distracted. When his nurse finally left him on his own, Claude wasted no time digging into his meal despite his lingering nausea, hoping to get a little bit of food into him before he tried what he wanted to do.

[redcladidealist]

When the doctor's words faded from the air, cold dread sank into the pit of Lloyd's stomach. Even as he was guided from the Music Room, he couldn't help but scan the crowd of other patients for any sign of Claude. Something about the Head Doctor's announcement didn't set well on his nerves. Maybe it was the comment about patients being given something extra to help prevent more sickness - sickness he and his doctors had spread in the first place. Claude was already sick. What if he was one of the ones they gave this to and it ended up making it worse?

It was hard not to dwell on that thought, to reassure himself that Claude would probably already be in their room, that he'd be just fine. Well, as fine as he could be, considering. Fingers tightening around his journal, he tried to distract himself with the vague plans he had for tonight. He had to meet Kratos, and then...

Then what? Kratos hadn't exactly been forthcoming. With a small breath of frustration that barely masked his worry, Lloyd gave up on that train of thought. Fortunately, it wasn't a long walk back to his room.

And even better, Claud was there. Lloyd felt something in his shoulders loosen at the sight of the blond, still apparently unharmed and sane. "Claude." He breathed the other's name out with relief. "You all right?"

M39

[freewill]

Speaking with Kratos had at least let Castiel feel like he was a part of things again. Not that he needed to be included, but prior to getting sick he'd made sure to stay aware of the general events going on in the institute. He'd recently felt like he'd been falling behind, so having someone bring him up to date helped with his mood, at least slightly.

The fact still stood that in the end, there wasn't much he could do to help in this coming night, even if he wanted to. He served others best as a soldier, and the state of his sliced up torso meant that he would probably do more harm than good if he tried to get into any fights.

Another night spent alone in his room wasn't going to cut it, though, and so as his nurse moved him out of the Music Room, Castiel glanced over his shoulder at her. "Would it be possible to switch this chair for some crutches so that I can get around my room tonight?"

The nurse frowned at him, all overwrought concern and uncertainty. "But Michael, you really shouldn't be moving around much at all..."

"I know that, but it would be more comfortable for me to have those on hand if I do need to move," he argued back, forcing his tone to not become overly firm. And then, remembering that humans had a so-called magic word, he added, "Please."

The nurse sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "All right. Stay right here, I'll go get some." She disappeared, leaving Castiel to wonder just how he would be going anywhere when he was like this.

A few minutes later the nurse returned with an orderly at her side, carrying his crutches. The three of them made the trip back to his room, and the nurse set him up in front of his dinner, setting his crutches down on the bed. "There," the nurse said, "you're all set."

"I appreciate it," Castiel responded, bowing his head. "Have a good night."

His nurse smiled at him, thinking she had done him quite a good service, and then stepped out of the room, leaving Castiel on his own.

And where was Kobayashi? Castiel eyed the other side of the room before he stared down at his dinner. Did he have it in him to eat any of this poultry? It was probably worth a try, especially if he had hopes of going out tonight.

whoops made a mistake

[oyaji]

Wild Tiger had hoped that shot would have faded by the time dinner rolled around, but as he moved out of the music room and toward his room he felt so light-headed the moment he stood up. He felt drunk, but without only the side effects. His nurse didn't seem to have any capacity for sympathy. Close to M39, she lectured him on how important it was to keep a cool head for the rest of the night.

Pfft, yeah right. Just for saying that, Tiger was tempted to act like a baby just to put her out. Of course, Castiel kind of messed up his childish plans. When they came through the room, he didn't have it in him to destroy the man's night with a stupid vendetta that would probably just get him sedated again and possibly strapped to his bed. The former Hero couldn't risk that, not if he wanted to help Barnaby. He had to play nice, for now.

Once she left, he staggered to his bedside table, picked up his tray and sat on his bed in front of Castiel. "You look better," he offered slowly, trying to make small talk to break up his own dark thoughts. "Your face has more color. You've been eating your dinner, right?" He didn't know much about stomach surgery--For all he knew it probably hurt to digest food--but what he did know is that the body had a lot of catching up to do in nutrients to keep his immune system healthy.

M63

[nobleman]

While Guy's mood had steadily increased over the day, it seemed that there always had to be an exchange made somewhere. That happened when he arrived in his room and found a plate of food on his desk, but not on Locke's. When he saw Locke's bed had been made, as if he wasn't expected to occupy it again.

Before he could ask his nurse about it, she turned away from him and closed the door, leaving him to a deafening silence. Not that Guy didn't mind there being peace and quiet every now and then, but when it meant that Locke might be in some sort of danger, that changed things.

Mainly, Guy felt guilty. Because as much as he'd worried about Claude and Anise, as much as he'd worried about Leanne, he'd more or less forgotten about his roommate. He should have asked after him. What if he'd been sick? What if something had happened to him last night? It was just as likely that he'd been "released," but that didn't take the bad taste out of Guy's mouth when he thought about his roommate's possible fate.

He sighed as he continued to stare at the other bed. "I'm sorry. We didn't know each other that well, but..." This still wasn't fair.

Guy tried to focus on the fact that both of his friends were cured, but it seemed like no matter how much good he managed, there was always going to be a loss somewhere along the way. He was mature enough to handle that, but he wasn't emotionless, and he found it hard to focus on his food when those thoughts were lingering in his head.

Instead, Guy grabbed for the sheath he'd been steadily working on. Maybe he could finish it tonight.

F9

[madeinthehrl]

She'd tried to keep herself busy today. Maybe she'd tried a little too hard.

Not that she hadn't been successful. She'd met some new people, after all, and they'd seemed receptive to exploring the basement together. They could get started as soon as she felt well enough to walk on her own--which would be soon, if she had anything to say about it. But as the nurse dropped her off and shut the door with a smile, and as she wheeled herself to her desk, Soma couldn't help but feel exhausted. Like she'd spent the entire day running instead of just talking to people. And none of it changed the fact that Rapunzel was gone and Sora was dead.

She began to eat mechanically, though for what, she didn't know. Link would be along later to pick up Senna's katana, and after that...well, she hadn't had anything planned. Maybe she'd do what she should have done last night and read the books Lingormr had brought for her. Taking another bite of turkey, she flipped open the lid of her possessions box and stopped short.

There was a picture lying on top of her things.

Soma swallowed, slowly reaching into the box and pulling it out. The supplies in the Arts and Crafts Room were cheap things, carefully designed to be as inoffensive and ineffective as possible. But that didn't seem to have stopped the artist from creating a clear depiction of two smiling girls floating in a sea of stars, white and golden hair streaming behind them. And it was all too obvious who that artist had been.

She'd been there last night. Last night. And there was nothing she could have done.

Soma didn't notice the tears starting to roll down her cheeks until one of them splashed the paper, and then she bit her lip in an attempt to stop them that was only mostly successful. Shoving the drawing into her desk drawer, she slammed the box lid shut, scrubbed roughly at her face, and stabbed her turkey so hard the fork hit the plate and bent.

It wasn't fair.

M9

[thisisyourgod]

Karkat was going to just go ahead and call this day a bust. It had been highly uneventful and dreadfully short considering his extra forced rest. Even if he was getting to the point where he could just blame everything on the Institute, it didn't make things any better. None of the Institute staff would actually care, anyway.

To make it worse, the nurse had caught him off guard and shoved a needle into his arm, claiming it was to protect him against some sort of disease going around. He didn't buy that for a second, though, and fully expected to mutate into something horrendous soon.

He didn't want whatever turkey and gravy was, either. It looked horribly bland - or worse, like someone had taken a runny shit all over his sliced meat. Meat wasn't even supposed to come in neat little slices like that, so the entire thing just looked unnatural. 'Turkey' was probably just another word for 'human meat' anyway, in which he meant that the Institute would be trying to make cannibals out of them.

Okay, that was too paranoid even for him, but could anyone really blame him? He knew he hadn't even scratched the surface when it came to the evils of this place, but that didn't mean he couldn't take some guesses at it just from what he was hearing.

He sat moodily on the edge of his bed, rubbing at the sore spot on his arm. The troll was reminded as he was waiting for his roommate that he still had his bat. That one wasn't his fault, either. He'd tried to give it to the girl. Ishida was free to try to do it himself this time, as long as he wasn't dragged off again.

M9

[repelling]

After separating from Irving-san in the Music Room, Uryuu stopped for the last time today at the bulletin board. Having intended only to check the status of his posting, he was surprised by Kratos-san's note; he'd indicated he would be available late, but the man's willingness to wait for him elicited no small amount of curiosity as to what the man had planned for the night. As for his post, the smallness of the response was unsurprising and so only a little discouraging. A huge group might be too difficult to do anything constructive with in the night, but the lack of any proper mass communication and understanding was inexcusable. For part of his purposes he could well enough gather names from the file rooms, expanding the reason for his intended stops there, but the other part required actual cooperation. Interest.

Not that he could blame those who distrusted it. Doubtless he would have himself.

He picked through thoughts of his and Kratos-san's posts, and of the Head Doctor's announcement, as his nurse walked him back to "his" room. Turkey with gravy didn't sound particularly appetizing, but it would be edible, even if the beginning return of the aching was reducing his appetite. More importantly, how were they claiming to help the sick? The illnesses were purportedly caused by metal objects in the stomach and cured or helped by ingesting a flower, if not through operation. It was unlikely that whatever they did, especially before the night, would help anyone.

"Make sure you get right to sleep after dinner, all right Mr. Way?" the woman said, her smile concerned as she ushered him into the room. "After last night, you really must take it easy!"

"Good night," he answered in monotone, and the door shut as he moved to his desk, nodding at Vantas-kun, not thinking anything of his rubbing at his arm, but noting it nonetheless. Knowing that he himself looked a little different--taller, perhaps older, his hair different--he tried not to tense or anticipate questions. Instead, he looked at the meal, finding no cup of pills had been left with it. Fine; he hadn't wanted to depend too much on them, anyway.

"Let's hope it's better than it looks," he sniffed, sliding into the chair at the desk.

M58

[firewhichrefines]

It had indeed been an uncommonly lovely day, inasmuch as days spent in a mental institute covering an unexplained, possibly-military, deviant lab project could be lovely. Sasuke had, after meeting the young man with the oddly familiar voice, spent the rest of the day in observation and re-training his body to respond to sight and sound simultaneously. Today, with the ache of the surgery lessened and his eyes adjusting to Itachi's corneas, there was only a trace of the blurriness that had plagued him yesterday.

Whether it was a side effect of Landel's accelerated healing or the fact that they were Itachi's corneas, Sasuke wasn't sure. In any case, there was precious little time to devote to contemplation of a topic he had little practical experience with -- healing was far from an Uchiha strength. The use of fire-natured chakra in healing extended to cauterisation and very little beyond that.

And if Sasuke allowed himself to think on it further ... if he let himself think about what it meant that he had Itachi's eyes, in a way, if he let himself wonder about bloodlines and brothers, parts and wholes, profit and loss ...

If he let himself go mad, there could be no vengeance.

So Sasuke had observed, instead, and let himself remember the habits that had let him live through the first, greatest loss. Frosty silence and the remaining inflammation around his eyes had been enough to keep his nurse at bay in the day. An attempt to ask the staff serving his and Albedo's meals what the 'extra help' might be for the infection had earned only vague approximations around medicine and patient privacy, so now he dug through his dinner with an efficiency that was a relief, plain and simple. Later he would trade his eyesight again: but for now, he didn't have to worry about putting an empty fork in his mouth.

If not entirely lovely, a surprisingly tolerable day, all told.

Re: M58

[purgatio]

...The day took too long to pass. Enough that by the time night had almost hit, Albedo had nearly forgotten the detail he needed to discuss with Sasuke. Despite what was happening, Nigredo's own defense needed to still be a priority--it had just been shoved to the back from the supreme issue of maintaining his brother's life. It was for that, perhaps, that Albedo just stalked in silently, moving to sit on his bed almost soundlessly.

He was running out of time. He couldn't allow this night to slip by as the last one had. There had to be some way.... Some way to solve this. Something that didn't include risking his brother's already tenuous hold on life.

M16

[stellarregions]

Any thought Gren had of the evening passing uneventfully vanished the moment two orderlies appeared to flank his nurse as they headed back down the hall towards his room. Something to do with that 'extra help' being promised by the head doctor, no doubt. Something Gren wanted absolutely nothing to do with.

He'd been victim to enough unwilling experimentation by now to know how this would probably go down, and to know that he absolutely wanted no part in it. How he was going to avoid it was a trickier question. He didn't think he could get to his weapon in time, and even if he could... He wasn't sure if he was desperate enough to use it against people who might not know what they were a part of, here.

Which meant the most he could do was try and run for it. It was a stupid plan--he'd have to keep going and try to get out of the institute itself if he was really going to avoid this, and that was unlikely--but he didn't see another option. So when they reached his room, he set down his tray, smiled at the nurse, and then ran for it, using the element of surprise to slip past the orderlies and back into the hall.

He made it almost to the next hall before they caught up to him. Someone grabbed his arm, and then he was shoved hard into the wall, the back of his head hitting the wall painfully before he was dragged off again, back to his room, where the nurse was waiting with an oddly disappointed look on her face, as if she really cared what happened to him.

"Mr. Koval, this is for your own good. You're already injured. You wouldn't want to be sick as well."

He didn't bother with an answer. As good as it might have felt to rant about it, explain that he was only injured because the lunatic who ran this place had turned one of his friends into a monster, he knew how little it would accomplish. So he simply stared daggers at her while the orderlies yanked hard enough on his arms to make his shoulders ache and she pulled out her syringe.

Despite himself, he flinched away, feeling suddenly sick to his stomach wondering what they'd do to him this time. But he couldn't escape, and then all the drama was over. She put the syringe away again, and left the room, the orderlies in tow, telling him to enjoy his dinner.

When the door closed, he slumped into his chair, resting his head on the desktop.

M30

[toxicspiderman]

Heading into the abyss solo was a stupid idea. Sangamon slouched as he walked back to his room, not looking at anyone else. Six people, and all of them were dead or brainwashed except him.

He almost didn't notice the nurse getting more touchy-feely than usual until the needle came out. Vaccines? He didn't object to them on principle, because he knew how to read a drug safety data sheet. But Russian Needle Roulette with Landel's bully-girls made easily bought FDA studies look like amateurs trying to cardsharp in Ocean City. Or Vegas, but he was in Jersey more than the desert. Bitching about it would just get him drugged silly and then shot up with it. Might be a good idea, since if he went homicidal he could do it in the privacy of his own dreams. But it was too late. Die cast, plunger pushed, and door shut in his face before he could even get through reminding her to put him down as a conscientious objector.

He threw himself into his chair and glared at the unsuspecting (also, dead as a doornail) hunk of turkey. "Fuck."

Re: M30

[ham_fisted]

"Extra help"...? What was he up to now!?

Gumshoe's mood turned sour when he saw a nurse leaving M30 with... Was that a needle she was holding!? Mr. Taylor must have been given a shot; unsurprisingly, he didn't look too happy about it. The glare was kinda hard to miss. Had that smart mouth of his finally landed him in trouble?

The detective shut the door and moved over to his desk. "Hey, pal. I just saw a nurse walk out of here with a needle in her hand. What happened?" He sat down and gave his roommate a tired but sympathetic look.

F8

[mirrorimage]

Nina scraped her food around the plate idly as the intercom clicked off. She was determined not to fall asleep this time, and fortunately for her, after sleeping so long before she wasn't even tired. She took a few bites of turkey and a sip of water. Then a few more.

It took her practically no time at all to finish off her plate, and she began her pre-night ritual of rummaging through her things, looking for her bat, trying to find everything so it would be there when she needed it.

Pulling open her drawer evoked a soft, "Oh!"

Something was there that hadn't been before.

M42

[scarefaux]

As harrowing as his own night had been, the events of what had happened and what horrible transformation might await him come nightfall weighing heavily on his mind, the Scarecrow couldn't help but worry for his roommate who had been taken for experimentation. His nurse insisted he calm down as he headed for his room, his pace as fevered as his body- Mr. MacAuley wasn't going anywhere, she assured.

The Scarecrow ignored her for a moment, pushing the door open, his entire frame trembling from the illness that still wore on him. The other bed was empty, and while he didn't want to jump to an awful conclusion, that's just what the Scarecrow did.

"Where's Skulduggery?" he asked, voice rough from his sore throat.

"I already told you, Mr. Howard," the nurse answered, handing him his dinner tray. "He'll be along shortly. Now you eat some of this and get some rest. You'll need your strength, and remember that tomorrow is another day."

With an encouraging smile, she left him there, closing the door behind him. He wasn't too worried about tomorrow- it was tonight that had him concerned.

[skeletonenigma]

The nurse seemed to understand right away that Skulduggery wasn't particularly in the mood for talking, which was honestly refreshing. He'd spent most of the day after breakfast in silence; there wasn't any reason to change that now. Especially when he still wasn't sure if he had complete control over his own mental faculties.

The assurance that nothing would happen during the day did astonishingly little to help.

It wasn't until they approached the room door that Skulduggery remembered the last time he'd seen the Scarecrow. He'd been planning to stay and make sure the Scarecrow didn't slowly transform into a horrible monster, but that plan had pretty clearly fallen through. So what happened last night, in his absence? Would he step inside to find a new roommate?

No. Nothing happened, apparently. Or at least, nothing of the transforming-into-a-horrible-monster variety. It was a very small relief, in the face of everything, but it was something. You had to take the small mercies where you could find them.

The Scarecrow was still sick, though. The rash hadn't gone away. Tonight, barring any other surprises, was going to be interesting - and probably wasn't going to do anything to improve the way things had been going. With a silent apology to Rita, who would probably be kept waiting again tonight, Skulduggery nodded to his roommate from the doorway. "You're not feeling any better, I take it?"