"Well, hello, everyone!" The Head Doctor said cheerily just after the nurses had come to collect everyone's dishes. "I trust you all enjoyed your meal and I also trust that, after such a long day, you're all looking forward to some rest. Of course, some of you have been specially selected for Special Counseling and CM-US Trials, in which case you will be escorted from your rooms just after this announcement.

"I'm feeling a bit tired myself, so I believe that'll be all for now. I'll talk to you all in the morning!"

The intercom clicked off.

Same old static. Same old laugh. Even the Head Doctor was yawning as he began to speak.

"Hmmm.... yes, I do apologize for getting so wrapped up in my paperwork and neglecting some of the... more amusing aspects of my job. I've come to a realization as of late: there's no point to work if there's no play to go along with it, yes? Yes. So, I think it's about time we all played in a little game–"

Suddenly, the static rose in volume and then cut off completely in a way completely uncharacteristic of the Head Doctor.

Something on the radio hissed, and then it was gone.

[ If you're introducing your new character during the night, you may do so whenever you wish; make your character's introduction post in response to the appropriate hallway post (you'll generally be able to find it here). However, when you do post, please reply to this intercom post with a link to the introduction for organization's sake. Thanks!]

[F01]


Another night, another wait. This time, Miku made herself stay put. It was hard to do much without her flashlight, but she was sure Sousuke would bring her bag with him. She'd have to see about reinforcing it, and finding proper sewing needles and thick thread. With a little sigh, Miku rested her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. She wiggled her toes as she waited, feeling the nylon of her stocking stretch up and down.

The waiting always seemed to be the worst part of the evening. Were you eaten tonight or not? Would someone come after them? Would it be a friend?

I can't think like that. I need to think positively, Miku worried her lip. Because I made a promise for tomorrow. She nodded to herself and watched the doorway. Sousuke would be coming soon and she'd have to be ready. Idly, she found herself watching her roommate. It was better than nothing.

Recluse had used his uneventful dinner as time to hammer out and sharpen a new blade for Scourge, and do maintenance on the rest of his own weapons, then changing into his black Arachnos officer's uniform, ready for the night. Then, it had simply been a matter of waiting, impatiently as always, for the doors to unlock.

At least that pompous fool didn't lecture them all that long-windedly tonight. He slipped out into the hallway as soon as his door was unlocked, red eyes glowing dimly in the pitch black corridor.

[to here]

[F15]

As usual, the doctor's announcement was vague and led her nowhere as far as figuring out what his intentions were went, but definitely foreboding. There was no way to tell what exactly he had in mind when he was cutting himself off like that among all the static, which was frustrating, but ... she supposed sooner or later, they would all see what would happen-- if it did.

For now, however, Naoto knew there were other important things she had to wait for, so the riddle can be further sat on later. Setting her journal back on the desk, she went to prop the door to the room open and sat back on the edge of her bed, then set the flashlight up to give the best lighting around the room she could get it to. Anyone else wouldn't be wandering around the pitch black halls without their own light, but Naoto figured it would be best if those dropping by could see easily in the room, as well.

Now, all there was to do was wait. She didn't care when in the night her radio delivery came in, but she wanted Yousuke and Kanji to hurry. There was a lot to talk about, and Naoto didn't want any of this time wasted.

[in M7]

Hanatarou had managed to choke down about half of his dinner before finally giving up and pushing the tray away. With a glance back at Sora to make sure his roommate wasn't looking, he'd opened the closet door to get his uniform and started to change; he thought that if he was going to act like a healer he could at least look like one. Right?

He was just settling his pack in place when the intercom went off, and he gave a startled glance back toward the speaker. The announcement was creepy and disturbing as usual, but considering that he was already a bundle of nerves as it was...well, there wasn't really a visible impact on him. There were supposed to be two people - two strangers - coming by to be healed, and he hoped that he'd be able to help them.

The healer paused for a moment, staring blankly at the imitation Hisagomaru in the corner of the closet before finally deciding to leave it there for the time being. He'd have to see how he felt after trying to heal two people before deciding what he was going to do next.

Endrance sighed just slightly as he got his things together. Those injuries from the night before were still there, and he knew he would need to be careful if they should run into something unexpected that night. With any luck, any exploring they did wouldn't require fighting, but he knew now to be on his toes and prepared for anything that could happen.

He paused just before exiting his room. What was...oh. Right. That must have been what Haseo meant by that brief glance and holding up four fingers as they passed each other on the way back to their rooms. Well, that was certainly convenient, he thought to himself, and...it made him a little happy knowing that Haseo was only one hallway over. He blushed just slightly as he flipped on his flashlight and stepped out into the hall.

[to here.]

[From here]

After a few minutes, von Karma arrived at the main patient block hallway. Although it was nearly identical to that of the one in which he was formerly assigned, it felt different to him. Certainly, the trip from his room to the hallway was somewhat longer than it had been for him previously.

Right now, he was the only one in here, but that would soon change as more patients left their rooms. Wanting to avoid inviting any kind of trouble by tarrying here too long, he cautiously peered out the door to ensure that no threats existed. Satisfied that there were none, he went through the door to enter the main hallway.

[To here]

[From here]

For the first time all day, von Karma was now in an area that was somewhat familiar to him. The last day that he had had full consciousness, he had passed through this hallway on his way to the recreational field. Oddly enough, although there had been a number of patients meandering through this hall last time, it appeared that he was the first one here tonight. Gingerly, he walked close to the wall in case something non-human emerged, until he reached the doorway to the north.

Carefully, he opened the door and looked outside. The grassy field lay before him. A cool breeze drifted in; this was actually the first breath of fresh air that he had received all day, despite his blasted nurse's nagging. Steeling himself for the trip to the activities shed on the far end of the field, he stepped outside.

[To here]

Well, that was interesting. He'd just watched Lockdown being escorted out of the room by some of the staff. That meant one of two things, and he quite hoped it was the same as what it had been for him. A night of terrorizing meatbags was always fun, although HK did hope that if this was the case for Lockdown, the former droid would be able to escape maiming if he ended up within targeting range.

But there were more important things to do tonight- HK was going to get a blade! A real edged weapon, not just the pair of scalpels he'd been using for almost 15 days now. He wanted to leave his cell immediately after the doors unlocked, but he waited until his limited, irritating meatbag eyes got used to the concept of focusing on the infrared wavelengths that his extended spectrum could pick up. It was only a tiny fraction of the electromagnetic spectrum, but it allowed him to travel without needing the glowrod.

He stepped out into the hallway after a moment, the surroundings lit with colors that human languages didn't even have words for. He felt much better after that defrag he'd done on his brain. Now, to go find the rather odd RV point the meatbag had told him to go to...

[to here]

[From here]

Just as in the hallways inside the building, the field looked completely deserted. von Karma saw not a single person nor creature upon it. Far to the northwest was his destination: an old supply shed that contained items that he would find marginally useful to defend himself -- at least until he could acquire something better. As much as he dreaded making that trek once again to that filthy, dusty old structure, he headed for it, keeping under the cover of the shadows of the main building. As he did so, he warily looked around for signs of potential danger, gripping his flashlight tightly in his hand in case of a sudden attack.

[from here]

Recluse surveyed the hallway as he stepped out into it, looking for Marcus. Nothing. He'd just have to wait and see if he'd turn up, then. He headed for the door to the cell block exit, keeping alert for any monsters that might be lying in wait. They usually seemed to take a few minutes at least to start attacking attacking, but that was no reason to act like a fool.

[from here]

Finally! All Tim had to do now was follow the numbers to the right room. Why the hell was everyone so far away from the room he was in? It was probably on purpose; the doctors here had to know more than they were letting on. Otherwise, why would they know his actual name, but not Raphael's?

Too many questions, not enough answers. Maybe Jaime would know something.

[to here]

S.T. woke in a rush from a dream involving playing referee to a wrestling match involving two topless girls and a leviathan-sized octopus waiting for a rematch with the Nautilus or the world's largest deep-fryer and dish of butter sauce. His fingers were in his mouth and he was trying to whistle, when the intercom took over the job.

He'd slept through dinner, and the smell of uneaten fish hung in the air. That explained the dreams, at least the parts involving sea life and condiments. He made short work of the potatoes and asparagus, washing them down with the ubiquitous and still-over-chlorinated, now-lukewarm tap water.

Opening the closet doors let out a gentle wave of aromatic brewing by-products; the beer was progressing. He picked up one small bottle without agitating the breadcrumbs off the bottom, and poured a small amount into the glass. Looked like beer, smelled like beer, tasted like flat beer and stale bread. He screwed the caps down on all of them, since it seemed like the time for explosions had passed.

Then he hunted down his toolbox and repacked. The syringes went back in the trash can, labeled and sorted. A spare t-shirt went in the toolbox, pre-emptive protection against bottle-rattling. The flashlight got a new layer of tape, and the glass cleaner went in its holster. Everything ship-shape, which meant it was time to shove off.

[to here]

[from here]

S.T. stepped out through the M90 door and into the wider hall. Both areas were silent and dark.

He flicked the flashlight on. A bright ray of light jumped out, illuminating a soft bullseye on the wall. The batteries were still going strong.

Aside from that confirmation, it was doing little aside from ruining his night vision. He turned it back off. There was no reason to advertise his presence until he'd made it to Javert's room.

[to here]

[from here]

North or south? That was an easy decision to make. Playing amateur National Geographic anthropologist-cum-documentarian didn't appeal. Not when humans were the only endangered species around here. Besides, he'd never perfected the well-oiled half-British half-asshole (if there was a difference) accent.

S.T. pivoted his body to the right, swung the rolling pin out ahead of him (in case the door was closed -- a black eye from actually running into a door was not something he wanted to have to admit to) and stepped into the next hall.

[to here]

[from here]

The hallways were dead -- 3am last call has come and gone dead dead, not just an early, foggy night. Not even a mouse. Scratch that -- he didn't want to think about what the local mice looked like.

Not even a street sweeper making it's bi-weekly, ticket-strewn, ear-shattering pilgrimage. He hoped he hadn't missed a memo. Caution: by game we mean the general issuance of semi-automatic weaponry to any individuals with grievances.


INTRA-GANG VIOLENCE HITS INNOCENT BYSTANDER DAY AFTER POLICE ISSUE ADVISORY ON CRIME AT NIGHT
TAYLOR NEVER CAME IN OUT OF THE RAIN, EITHER, NEIGHBOR CONFIDES

What the fuck. This place was getting to him. He couldn't allow that, so he sped up his strides.

[to here]

"Damn that Megatron," Starscream muttered, struggling angrily with his uncooperative crutches as he waited outside his room, impatiently waiting on Lockdown. "He is quickly becoming just as irritatingly stubborn as the one from my universe. I do not care for his accusations, both of my treachery nor of my inability to be of use...bah, it should be ME ordering HIM around. Damn this leg..."

There was also the matter of the doctor's words, he thought to himself, closing his eyes and reminiscing on what the flesh-creature had said. "Play a game...what do you have in mind, human," he murmured, crossing his arms in thought as best he could. "Perhaps I shall get a chance to find out...if this fool ever shows up, that is..."

[from here]

The main hallway was empty, too. The quiet was broken only by squeak of S.T's shoes on the tile floor and tiny creaks of metal as the toolbox swung as he walked.

This was the part in the horror movie where the cheerleader took a knife to the throat. Good thing he'd left his pom-poms at home. As long as he was the idiot friend or the brains (hell, both) he should make it at least to the third act.

He hurried along, hugging close to the left-hand wall.

[to here]

[from here]

No, really, where the fuck was everyone? Shit, someone needed to be out and about. The rescue-mission post had had a dozen or so eager-beaver volunteers, so where were they? He hoped they were around when he got back with the gear, because he wasn't planning to spend the night as a poor man's on-call EMT.

O.K., so he didn't have other plans beyond the appeal of going back to his room and seeing if falling asleep by design yielded better results. But the idea of turning around and heading upstairs himself was marginally less appealing than a solo night dive. I.e. absolutely dumbfuck moronic, given his current mental state. He could admit to something resembling shellshock, here in the dark, by himself. Nothing a few beers and a few good nights' sleep wouldn't cure, provided he could get them.

[to here]

The static snapped Spider out of his gruesome writing trance. His initial project had been to cover the walls in his shit, but he soon sobered up and realized that the nurses would probably wash it all off as soon as he cleared out of the cell, and he couldn't even read what he'd been writing very well. Instead - and mostly because he didn't actually want to smear shit all over himself - Spider had begun writing on his clothes and body using a mixture of blood and saliva. He was still having problems reading what he'd written, but he planned to transcribe it later. He'd have plenty of time after the interviews. He just needed some jumpstart, maybe a cigarette, maybe some coffee, maybe a whole fucking lot of coffee and - WAIT! INTERVIEWS!

The static rose in volume, and Spider heard the click of his cell door unlocking. Leaping to his feet, Spider threw himself against the door until he found a way to open it, and burst out into the corridor.

"HAVE AT THEE, DOGFUCKER! WHO UNLOCKED MY DOOR? I WILL EITHER THANK YOU OR FUCK YOU IN THE NECK DEPENDING ON WHO YOU ARE."

Spider threw his gaze around the room, attempting to slam it into a lurking orderly or patient. He found no one.

"BAH! I HAVE INTERVIEWS TO CONDUCT. YOU ARE SAFE FOR NOW, YOU QUIVERING TOWER OF EXCREMENT! BUT THIS IS NOT THE LAST TIME THE BASTARDS WILL PUT ME IN SOLITARY CONFINEMENT, AND THE NEXT TIME YOU LET ME OUT, I WILL GRIND YOUR SKULL AGAINST ITS OWN FOOLISHNESS UNTIL CANDY COMES OUT."

Screaming into the empty corridor, Spider kicked open the door and ran.

[to here]

[from here]

Now that he'd made his daring escape, Spider began considering important questions. Questions like, "where the fuck am I?" "where the fuck are my drugs?" and "did I accidentally smear shit all over myself instead of blood?" The third question would require a second opinion, and the second question depended wholly on figuring out the first question, and so Spider began looking for things he recognized.

Unfortunately, since he had last traveled through this hallway under the influence of a cocktail of rather powerful narcotics and hallucinogens, all Spider could remember about this hallway was that it was frequented by a happy-go-lucky talking wheelbarrow full of guns. At the moment, this was not particularly helpful. But the hallway dead-ended to the north, and Spider's keen journalistic instincts told him that he could not run through walls right now. So he went south.

[to here]

[Currently in M47]

Well, that was a little different. Either the head doctor was still having trouble with his intercom, or something was interfering with the broadcast. Artemis frowned at the ceiling, then looked at his radio. Something told him that a battle was going on over the airwaves.

But now wasn't the time to worry about that. He had to get ready for Momo to stop by, which meant that he had to disentangle himself from Haku and look presentable and professional when his mission was presented to him.

"Hinamori-san should be by soon," Artemis said, squeezing Haku's hand one more time and getting up to change. "If anyone knocks, it will be her."

[from here]

There was no sign of anyone else here. Maybe she was early - she had left her room immediately, after all. The rest of the team should be here soon.

Soma took up position on the other side of the hallway so she faced the F-blocks and waited.

[from here]

The first thing Spider noticed after charging into the hallway and almost skidding into the far wall were the stairs. Stairs were not usually a good source of information (generally people and computers were better) but in this case they were invaluable. These stairs went downwards. There were no stairs going downwards on the first floor, which was where he wanted to be. But there were stairs going downwards on the second floor, which - after some consideration - Spider decided was where he'd gotten all those drugs he'd been on when he'd come here before. Thus, the course of action was clear: DOWN THE STAIRS!

[to here]

Scourge felt he'd had a good day. Until the part where he had to open his eyes and get out of bed. The rest of it had been a gigantic trainwreck and not the kind where you grab some energon goodies and watch in amusement. Ugh. He almost hoped he met a monster tonight, albeit a very small and harmless one. He'd have something to take his anger out on and maybe bringing a piece back would make people stop thinking he was such a damned nutcase.

On the other hand, maybe he'd meet another inmate in the hallway, a vulnerable one who no one would miss. Maybe it would even be that human with an attitude like a virus-infected turbofox, putting a knife through his soft skin would go a long way towards improving Scourge's mood. It was something to look forward to.

The tracker ate his dinner slowly and in silence, waiting for Lord Recluse to show up with his new blade. No one had asked for his presence directly, and he felt comfortable leaving Team Blitznut to wander as they pleased while he went and found something useful. Recluse hadn't said Scourge had to give him everything he found, did he?

[Closed to Lord Recluse]

[M74]

When the lights went out, Armand already had some of what he needed to take laid out upon his desk. He dressed by feel in the darkness, and made certain to steal another pillowcase from the bed to fold into his pocket. He put his journal and pen in one pocket, gripped his sword in one hand and tried to carry the light and full pillowcase bag in the the other. Awkward to say the least.

But he could carry it all, and did so. He could walk as far as the female block without being able to see. It didn't bother him at all, but that was mostly because he was used to it.

[gone here]

[from here]

A quick scan showed no meatbags within view, although contrary to what many humans stupidly believed, infrared radiation could not be detected through opaque objects. Obviously. But really, HK was far too focused on the most immediately obvious pipes in the wall under the sinks. An experimental tug at the fixture showed that the pipes were willing to move, but it would take some more forceful persuasion.

A hard kick was therefore applied, thankfully remembering which parts of the foot were most painful and easily snapped clean in half. The pipe moved more, and quite a bit of... possibly water began leaking out. Well, it might have once been water, before it had passed through the digestive system of some hellish monster. "Exclamation: Ewwww," was all HK had to say on the matter, before continuing to try and get the pipe to release from the wall while holding his breath.