"Oh, deary me, it seems I'm running a bit late!" The Head Doctor's laugh was nervous, erratic. "Er – nurses, if you'd so kindly escort the patients to their next locations? That'll be the Recreational Field for the males and the Greenhouse for the females. Oh, and, patients should be taken to their specially assigned appointments, of course!

Steps came in, then out. The Head Doctor seemed to take a sip of something.

"Ah– Thanks, Lydia. Costa Rica blend is the good stuff, isn't it?"

His voice was muted as he took another sip. Then, he said: "And... I think that's all for now. I'll speak to you later!"

The intercom clicked off.

Scott wasn't really what one would call the sporty type, at least not currently. In the past, maybe. He could have called himself a hockey player at one point - in grade two (it totally counted). And he had been a jock in high school, hadn't he (he had at least played a lot of Track & Field for the NES, anyway)? Regardless of what his athletic status may or may not have been, sports weren't really what the Scott Pilgrim of nowadays was associated with. He was a fighter, not a lover sports guy. Still, he was surprisingly excited to be going out to the Rec Field. Maybe he wouldn't get any games on, but he could still work off those pesky bullet wounds, right?

He walked as fast as the crutch would let him despite the protests of his nurse and his injured limbs. His hand could grip just well enough to keep the crutch steady under his right arm (gravity did most of the work), and he was thus able to keep a good pace. "All right, not doing bad so far," Scott said to himself with a grin as he hobbled quickly across the field, heading for the goalposts on the far end. He had worked up a surprisingly steady stride by the time he got close to them. Crutch forward, then left leg swung out in front of it. Crutch, leg, crutch, leg, crutch, leg. Nothing to it! Sure, his shoulder was hurting like burning. Sure, his right leg was still giving him similar pain on a smaller scale despite not having weight put on it. Sure, his animal brain was constantly shouting, "WHY WON'T YOU STOP?!" Other than that, though, he was a-okay. He was determined to be. Otherwise, it was Game Over, wasn't it?

Soon he reached the goalposts and stopped, much to the relief of his limbs. He hadn't really gone to this spot for any specific reason. He had just wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't that hampered by his injuries. For now, he seemed to have made a good case for the affirmative on that point. He knew that he couldn't just stop at moving forward, though. He had to see how good he was going to be at fighting in this condition. How was his moveset going to be modified with a crutch added and an arm taken away? That was the million dollar ($1176470.59 CDN) question, wasn't it?

He tried something simple to start - a standing kick with his good leg. He quickly raised his left leg while leaning his armpit against the crutch, lightly touching the goalpost with the sole of his foot. Nothing bad so far. He did the same thing again, only harder. A small wave of pain shot from one leg to the other, causing him to wobble on his crutch a bit. Scott grit his teeth, not liking that result at all. This time he decided to try a small jump kick, just to spite that stupid injury. After backing up a good few inches, he pushed both feet off the ground. "Hiiiiya!" With the end of his crutch still on the ground, he gave himself a bit of extra momentum, letting it fling him toward the goalpost with his left leg outstretched.

One didn't have to be able to predict the future to know what that the result of that was going to be. Foot connected hard with goalpost. Rebound pushed him back against the crutch. Center of gravity over the crutch shifted too far back. Pain shot through both his legs and his injured arm again. This and the gravity shift caused him to let go of the crutch entirely. Body flew back over the crutch and crashed on the ground slightly behind it. Bum (among other things) ended up stinging and covered in grass stains.

"Owwwwww," Scott groaned to himself, fumbling for the crutch. It was in an awkward position, just beyond the reach of his good arm. ". . . Well, could've gone worse, I guess," he told himself as he used his left foot to start pushing the crutch back toward his hand.

[For Keman at first, then Peter and Indy later.]

Second day on the job. Whoop-dee-freakin' doo.

From the looks Venkman had taken at today's files, it seemed like everyone was trying to out-crazy his first-day patients. A paranoid space case who had taken the detective fantasy to a level that would make Jimmy Doyle look like Nancy Drew in diapers. An Andre the Giant wannabe who thought he was a killer robot searching for a bigger, badder killer robot. A guy with a pointy-eared birth defect and unfortunate eyebrows, which apparently gave him license to go full-on Martian space ranger. Oh yeah. Just another fun-filled day at Landel's Institute.

Sherlock Paranoia and Robby the Robot were up first, both in the same shift. They were both going to have to go quick in order to fit the time constraints, and Venkman wasn't going to complain about that one bit. He'd be getting paid the same amount to do half the work on two patients. That wasn't so bad, at least. He had just the perfect way to get this done, too.

Rummaging in his bottom desk drawer, he started hauling out a piece of equipment - a shock machine that had become near and dear to him over the course of his research days at Columbia. It had served him well during several experiments, many of them of dubious quality but immense entertainment value. Babe, never leave me, he thought at the machine with a short chuckle, untangling all the little wires and starting to plug it in behind his desk.

There had been no delay this morning for Dr. Disraeli when it came to arriving at work. In fact he had been early, if only to make up for the time he had missed the previous day. Not that many had seemed to care apart from the always gossiping nurses, which was odd. The nurses would say what they would, regardless of Jizabel's actions, however he'd had no reprimand from the head doctor for his tardiness. He had expected a warning at the very least, but he could guess that Landel was a busy man. He probably didn't have the time to bother with giving his doctors slaps on the wrist. A good thing to know.

He had just finished with reviewing his files, following a check of his once again replaced desk drawer, when the usual knock came at the door a bit earlier than usual. There seemed to be no end to the oddities this morning. When a nurse entered without a patient, Jizabel could only wonder what was so important that she needed to bother him when he was preparing. As a doctor though, he was understanding of the interruption and welcomed her without question. Apparently there was a problem with one of his first patients, an injury it seemed. Dr. Disreli could not see how he would need a warning with the state he'd seen some patients in, however the nurse was able to provide a decent enough reason for telling him. More than decent, he decided, once he saw the jar she held and the color of it's contents.

"I'll be sure to take care of things," he assured the woman, accepting both the jar and the documentation brought with it. The reasons she had for providing him such a thing must have been different from what Jizabel would likely do, however he would not be passing up an opportunity like this, or a specimen so well preserved. "If you'll give me a moment before allowing my first patient in...?" he then requested, with the nurse quickly agreeing that she would before leaving him.

The nurse gone, Jizabel found himself in a far better mood. Now wouldn't this be interesting?

Cloud knew he should be taking the opportunity to check out the rec field during the day. The fresh air would be a welcome change from the crowded stuffiness the Institute usually provided, and he would have a chance to scope out the area when it wasn't all under the cover of darkness. When offered a choice, however, he remained in the sun room. He told himself it was so that he could watch the bulletin, him still being fairly new and needing all the information he could get, but the thought rang hollow.

The real reason he was here, he knew, was because he would be out there. Maybe it was weak of him, but he needed a chance to breathe. Ever since he'd arrived it had been nothing but one shock after another, and seeing Zack standing in the cafeteria that morning talking to Aerith had been the final card that caused his tower to crumble. He needed to just sit back somewhere out of the way and start rebuilding.

Being able to watch the bulletin from here was just a perk. Cloud made himself comfortable on one of the sofas, watching people come and go but not really paying attention to them. He took the time to try and rate this on a scale of the biggest messes he'd ever gotten thrown into.

(for Sheena)

Second day working here, and already he was breaking the rules.

Well, the nurse's rules, anyway. No where in Stein's contract had there been a "no smoking" clause. Still, every time one of those women poked their heads in his office and saw a lit cigarette, there was a stern reminder that, even if they had no right to regulate what he did to his own body - Stein snorted; smoking was hardly the worst thing in that category - they asked that he kindly refrained from subjecting the patients to second-hand smoke.

So now Stein had taken up stealth-smoking as a hobby, quickly hiding the cigarette right before the nurse came in to tell him about this or that. Of course, by the smell in the room, it was obvious he had been smoking, but the nurses apparently didn't wield the authority or the bravery to admonish him for smoking when he wasn't caught red-handed. Still, after the fourth time one of them looked in with nothing in particular to announce but a reminder that patients would be arriving in so-and-so many minutes, he suspected they were trying to catch him in the act.

Amusing. He wondered just what went on in those heads of theirs. His fingers itched just thinking about it.

Stein sighed and exhaled. Right, no, that had been a problem yesterday. Calm down. Breathe. Ignore the noise. He couldn't go around just cutting people up, now could he? Looking at his notes from yesterday, he was reminded to better assess the physical conditions of his patients better before starting; it had been a real killjoy when Frank had almost popped his stitches. Well, live and learn.

Smoking his cigarette and going over the files, Stein read up on today's patients, ready to hide the focus of his addiction the moment the doorknob so much as began to turn. There was no way they'd catch him again.

Someone old, someone new, Makiko mused, looking at the schedule for this shift. Mr. Riedel would be returning, it seemed, and wouldn't that be interesting. She certainly owed him for the week before -- no matter that the broken nose had healed before even her next session that day, no matter her own slight revenge, the fact remained that he'd broken it. And that simply couldn't be allowed.

The new one, though, she knew nothing about, except for the fact that he believed himself to be living in a setting directly out of science fiction. It would be best to save any judgment for when he actually arrived; she'd already had that proven enough here so far. Those dismissed as uninteresting might prove to be otherwise, as the session with "Ritsuka" just yesterday had reminded her. Still, though, it would be nice to have a female patient. Someone with a bit more depth to them.

To complete her usual ritual of preparation, she turned the CD player on, not really paying attention to what was playing. She pulled a pad of paper onto her desk and began writing, waiting for the nurses to escort the next patient into her office.

Why couldn't she get it out of her mind? It was a stupid white dress. So what if it was visual evidence that she was a princess? It should not be bothering her this much. It was a just a dress.

Falis didn't protest when the vultures herded her outside to the greenhouse for some quality time with Mother Nature, or something like that, as lost in thought as she was. Her headache had subsided to a dull throb in the back of her head, but she still stared at the plants and dirt wondering if they really expected her to bother. She had no talent for such things.

Turning her eyes to the others that had been herded along with her, Falis looked for someone she knew. Someone who might... No. She wasn't going to start questioning herself. It was just a stupid white dress.

[Soma and eventually Hokuto]

There was something invigorating about getting back onto a proper work schedule. That weekend had just been far too long, especially when he'd had to spend it in the sort of town where everyone knew everyone and therefore didn't have much of interest to talk about. There was something that was just too Pleasantville about the whole thing, and while Wilson knew that was judgmental and even snobby of him to think, he couldn't help it.

Work, on the other hand, at least took his mind off of the fact that he'd been ditched in this job without even a way to get into contact with his colleagues, let alone his boss. He almost felt like he'd been exiled, and it was starting to wear on him. At this point, his biggest reprieve was in knowing that he had a small chance of really helping the patients here.

Though even that was an obstacle, considering the attitudes that most of them had, but it was at least an obstacle he was used to dealing with. Difficult patients were part of the package no matter what kind of doctor you were, oncology included. If anything, cancer patients were particularly tricky to handle -- their lives were falling apart and they were emotionally unstable, depressed, and angry. Sometimes at him. Often at him.

That was one of the only reasons why he felt like he had any experience in working with the patients here at Landel's. It was far more severe here, but at least it wasn't completely foreign to him.

Wilson entered his office, dropped his suitcase, and started to arrange his files. He had one follow-up session and a new patient this morning, so it looked like he'd have his hands full.