The jingle rang out over the sound of people munching down on tacos and taking big bites of burritos. The Head Doctor cleared his throat, as if calling for everyone to pay attention, before he began with his usual announcement.

"Well, I hope everyone enjoyed their lunch enough to continue on to today's next exciting shift! Everyone will be heading to the Game Room, where we have many recreational activities that all our patients can partake in and have fun with! After all, happiness is the best medicine anyone could ask for, hmm?

"Of course, not all of you will be going to the Game Room; some of you have appointments this shift with our staff of world-class doctors. By getting to know you, they will be better able to learn about your illness and thus become better able to cure you – and you do want to return to your loving families, don't you?"

The Head Doctor paused, as if what he had said was too sinister for Dayshift. However, he shrugged it off with a laugh.

"Don't worry. I have hope that our program can rehabilitate every single one of you, which... is why I must continue paperwork for our new set of patients! I'll speak with you next shift!"

The intercom, as always, clicked off.

The minor disorder caused by her first patient of the day had been set back to rights: the notepad and pencil jar were where they belonged, the crumpled and scattered papers in the trash, and the chair back exactly centered opposite her desk. Makiko examined the note the man had handed her and wondered briefly just what "Christo" meant to him, then shook her head, tore the bit of paper into thirty-two neat and exact squares, and dropped them disdainfully into the garbage.

She had a new patient to worry about now, so dismissing the last one from her thoughts, she moved on to the file of one Nicholas Blake. He was quite a bit younger than those she usually saw (odd assortment of ages in this place, wasn't there?) but some of the notes on his background looked...potentially interesting.

Though the rest of her assessment would have to wait until she actually saw the boy, of course. Makiko exchanged the disc in the CD player for another without really looking at it, then pressed 'play' just before the nurse rapped on her door. Hopefully this one would prove to be more entertaining than the last.

Lunch had been pleasant enough, although Jizabel had learned of some absences in the staff this time as well. Both patients and staff were hard to keep on here, it seemed. But really, Jizabel wasn't one to talk. He'd be back in Delilah the moment they called for him, and then he too would be missing from the facility. That was just how things went.

He had a seat at his desk and took another moment to flip through his next patient's file in preparation. Someone who thought they were metal - a "robot" according to the explanation in the file - would no doubt be less inclined to cooperate in comparison with his last. Or anyone else for that matter. Mr. Cross had seemed to be the odd exception amoungst the patient populace, someone who actually wanted help, or at the very least wanted to please those around him by saying that he did. That mindset may have not been so strange then, but the compliance was the rarity, and Jizabel knew that was the best he would get this day.

When the nurse rapped on the door, Dr. Disraeli spared himself from answering in person and only called for entry from behind his desk.

She’d never been in the Game Room before.

It didn’t look spectacularly interesting, she had to admit… but it’d be more fun than just hanging out in the Sun Room, right? Yuffie idly thumbed through a deck of cards, walking around the room to examine various bits and pieces. Board games, video games, chess… No really awesome prank material that she could see, but maybe she could rope somebody into a game of poker? That could be fun, but… ah, then again, most of the patients were just like her -- they didn’t have anything really cool that she could swindle out of them. Not until Nightshift, anyway.

Still! She’d keep it in mind. It wasn’t like there was anybody else in the room yet anyway, so any potential swindling would have to wait a little while. What could she do in the meantime, huh? Pick- pocketing a nurse could be fun..! Wait -- no, not when it was quiet like this. She’d have to wait until there was more cover, unless she got distracted. Yuffie hadn’t stolen anything in days, not since that time in Doyleton, with the Kaito kid…

Yuffie smirked. That had been fun.

Well, Wilson's session with Caleb had gone surprisingly well. It was a good start to the week, but the doctor knew better than to think that it would continue. After a few weeks here, he had come to realize that there was going to be at least one patient that gave him a hard time. It was usually during the first session with a patient that it happened, and they generally mellowed out after that.

He supposed he should take that as a good sign - maybe as a sign of healing - but he usually never had a direct influence on which patients were discharged, so he had to wonder what good his work was doing here. It all seemed very arbitrary, and once again he had to question the competence of the man running this place.

But for now, all he could do was focus on the patients. The two who were seeing him this afternoon were new names to him, so he didn't really know what to expect. All he could do was wait.

Celes had disdained taking food that was so alien in texture and consistency, and instead had taken her meal in her room. A room, she quickly discovered, did not hold any trace of her roommate’s belongings. It was troubling, very troubling; Celes remembered a promise of protection to the girl, which had fallen by the wayside. Guilt stabbed her between the eyes and she made a note to tell her roommate’s loved ones – should there be any left in this place – the news.

It would be cold comfort, of course, but Celes had never been very good at that. Comfort was for barmaids and nurses, lovers and wives, and since Celes practiced none of those professions, straight talk it would have to be. With a sigh, she wrote a quick note in her neat, masculine script and flourished the signature, just as usual. There was still worry in her heart over the location of Noah and Luxord; the act in and of itself something she chastised herself over. What was the point in worrying over two men that would be unlike to mourn over her own death or disappearance? Especially the literally heartless man.

Celes alighted on a couch and looked up at the afternoon sky, crossing her legs and forcing herself to concentrate on the evening ahead. She hummed one ditty or another – marching songs, none of that foolish, tavern-born, romantic ballad trash – and looked down to her journal, pen poised above paper and waiting for her composition.

[For one Judge Magister]

The previous couple sessions hadn't gone too poorly, so Mohinder had better hopes for this next one. He took the short time between lunch and the arrival of his third patient of the day to set a few more things up around the room. The sooner he could get rid of all these boxes, the better.

On the wall by the door, the man checked for a couple tacks he'd set in beforehand, then attached a medium-sized cork-board with a map of the world on it. It lacked the mess of the one he had at home (covered in pins, photographs, and bits of string connecting them) but it still gave the room a more familiar feel.

Once done, he went back to his seat and closed the files of the last two patients on the desktop of his computer, bringing up the third. So far, the cases were only mildly related.

So, the previous expeditions into the uncharted realm of insane minds had provided only a few very small clues, and only some tiny gains- if that. Still, Professor Washu remained undaunted in the sanctuary of her galactic-scaled moodscape. Compared to the mind that could chart such an unimaginable expanse, what was an asylum full of people who clearly needed help? Oh no, this li'l genius was far from being done! Onward, for science!

Daedalus was content to remain in his office for lunch, though after his mid-morning session, he debated joining one of the other doctors, or even visiting the cafeteria. In the end, he decided against either option. His thoughts were really the only company he needed, when forced to be apart from his true duties.

His wants, sadly, needed to be kept hidden.

And now he was moving from the child psyche to the adult psyche. If he had been any less accomplished in both study and skill, he might have wondered in the vague, ambivalent way of the average citizen exactly what the foreseeable future held for him. Could he possibly provide the proper care for these people in a reasonable time period? But since Daedalus was neither incompetent nor average, he knew only that the tedium would end eventually. It always did. He would have Re-l again.

Until then, he'd pay his dues in the form of dedication and patience.

He left the door of his office open for the next shepherd and her sheep, while he idly worked on his last patient's data file.