"Games are a perfect way to meet new friends, Akihiro!" Sousuke's nurse gushed after dragging him away from Hinasaki and into the Game Room. He didn't quite understand her fascination with making him do these ridiculous activities that seemingly had no point, but for now he'd follow her lead. He didn't want to be sedated again, not when he had a job to do.

But Miku had told him she was going to nap, so he didn't worry about it too much. Plus, if he heard a ruckus, he could always be in the Sun Room in the blink of an eye. His nurse sat him down on one of the couches and gave him a deck of cards.

"Find someone to play with," She encouraged. Then left after giving him a sweet smile. Sousuke stared at the cards, as though not sure what to make of them.

[Waiting for Sanosuke "Burrito Killer" Sagara]

Though perhaps not entirely as successful as he wanted it to be, Homura walked away from lunch feeling satisfied with his efforts. Roland and Fai both had shown interest in the goal, and that was enough for the moment. Homura could be patient, had already been for five hundred years, and felt no harm in waiting another five hundred if he had to. He would have his goals realized, no matter what obstacles he faced, be they from the prison or those trapped within.

But now was time for business of a different sort, and the demi-god made his way to the Sun Room, near the common board. He made sure he could be seen from the entrance to the cafeteria, knowing that one stranger and one member of his own group both wanted to meet with him. It worked out well enough, especially given that the stated purpose of the History Club was simple.

Revenge and escape.

For now, Homura had no intention of revealing that it'd grown more complicated than that.

[Waiting for L and Junior]

Lunch had proved entertaining enough what with fellow doctors standing on tables, but now Jizabel was back at his desk, thoughts focusing on his next patient who was moments away from entering. He'd been able to give the patient file for this one a good looking over even with the Lunch-time interruption and was quite excited for meeting Sean Malloy. Jizabel was sure the young man would be entertaining even if he proved less inclined to conversation than "Cloud". Conversation was, after all, not the only way to spark an interest in someone.

"I've not even seen him, yet I'm already considering adding him to my collection," Jizabel mused to himself, once again tapping his spectacles on the tabletop. He would have to restrain himself around this boy. A Doctor attacking a patient and ripping out his eyes would not bode terribly well.

And then came the expected knocking at his door. Glasses going back to his face, he decided to be a little unorthodox this time and rose to open the door himself. He couldn't help himself.

Lunch had definitely been an interesting encounter. Maggie was in need of a little encouragement about the wonders of science, and those two others needed a little lesson in how to properly go about getting their answers, but all in all the new batch wasn't disappointing.

But now it was time to get back to work. Humming to herself as she waited for the next patient to come in, Washu sat down in her chair and cracked open the file. It seemed that her next subject patient seemed to be normal, other than thinking that his name was 'Kyon'. Hm... okay, so what made him go 'round the bend, and what could be done to solve it?

With a low giggle, Washu began plotting. It was time... for science!

Daedalus was well-prepared to sit through another session, the last of the day. This kind of practice had been so basic and witnessed only early on his career, he'd almost forgotten the feeling of actively exploring another's mind.

He could admit, it was a fascinating feeling, it always had been. Humanity was nothing more than an amalgamation of different shades of grey, failed specimens that had forgotten how to reach even a percentage of their full potential, but here he was, putting his hands on the last dredges of consciousness: the human mind, with its idiosyncrasies. Its faltering emotions and dead ends. Such a wonderful thing, but also pathetic in its ineffectiveness.

The file lay closed, off to the side, but Daedalus wasn't focussed on that. He sat on the lip of his desk, lost in thought. "I wonder how she is faring..."

House had gotten past the samurai and now he was apparently getting some vengeful demon chick, who, he hoped, was about as risqué and devious as the girls on his old rock LP covers.

He didn't get his expectations up, though. (Or anything else for that matter.)

In the meantime, he'd sat around in his office and looked for his iPod, which seemed to have disappeared sometime between last week's boring session and today's boring session. He figured he could steal Wilson's iPhone if worst came to worst, but that didn't make him any less pissed off at the Institute's janitorial staff.

Wilson's lunch had pretty much been a waste of time. He had gone up to the second floor staff cafeteria, only to find Dr. Washu talking to one of the new doctors, but after enough waiting around he had realized that House wasn't going to show up. He shouldn't have been surprised, really, but it meant that by the time he had gotten back to his office (and strictly stopped himself from knocking on the door to House's), there was barely any time to eat.

Technically, there wouldn't be anything wrong with eating while he spoke to his afternoon patient, but it was a bit unprofessional, not to mention it would be following in the footsteps of a certain someone. Instead, Wilson managed a few bites of his homemade meal and then put the leftovers in his mini-fridge. He could always finish it later.

As for David Shaw, Wilson had to wonder if he was going to come in with yet another wound that couldn't be explained. Since their talk had been a few weeks ago, he couldn't remember it all that well, but he knew that he had been one of the more difficult ones. He made sure to steel himself as he waited for the man to be brought in.

Lunch had been taken in his own office. Stegman had little desire to mingle. Not today, at least. His peers seemed marginally competent at least - not like those mockeries of medical men and women at Kingdom - but he was simply too frustrated to suffer through company.

A quiet lunch in the privacy of his own office was enough to soothe his ruffled feathers. And now it was back to the grindstone, so to speak. A new file was pulled from his folders and he scanned it idly. A teenager, lovely.

Well, hopefully this session would go better than the last.