[In M44]

Lloyd had been somewhat dreading the coming of the night, not so much because of the danger it presented, but because of the conversation he'd had with Guy, and the promise he'd made to try to subdue Claude if his roommate showed signs that he was becoming a monster. It was hard not to keep darting glances at the blond to make sure that he was all right. When the doors unlocked, though, he barely even noticed the Doctor's sinister words. He was too busy breathing a sigh of relief. Claude still seemed to be okay. Maybe that wouldn't stay the case, but they couldn't live in fear of the worst. Hoping for the best, he'd wished his roommate luck before the other set off.

Unlike the night before, though, Lloyd didn't immediately set out himself. He and Inoue had agreed to meet tonight so she could try to heal him, which meant he needed to wait.

Ugh, he hated waiting.

Feeling restless, he got up and started poking around around his side of the room. He found pens and a journal on his desk, and a weird device he wasn't sure about. It was in his closet that he found the biggest surprise. His clothes were there, hanging on hangers as though recently cleaned - black pants and a black undershirt, his red jacket and gloves, the red boots he favored, even his belts and suspenders. There wasn't any sign of his swords, but the dagger Claude had given him was there, which lifted his spirits a little. He thought he'd lost the weapon last night after the fight with the tailypo. A quick search of his pockets revealed that there wasn't anything else, but that didn't really surprise him. It was still amazing that he'd been given his clothes at all.

Figuring he had time before Inoue was likely to show up, Lloyd quickly changed out of the drab gray clothes the Institute had given him and into his normal clothes. Well, as quickly as he could with his still-injured arm and ribs protesting his every move. He had to grit his teeth when it came to taking off his shirt and replacing it with his black undershirt. He opted not to put his jacket on just yet. He had no idea how Inoue's healing ability worked and didn't know if she'd need to see his injuries before she could do anything. With the rest of his clothes on, though, his dagger hanging from the loop one of his swords normally would have gone through, there really was nothing else to do but wait.

Maybe he'll just doodle in that book.

[M7]

Dinner went by too fast, and as the intercom announcement came on and the change to night officially started, Sora pushed himself to the edge of bed, caught in the tight hold of dread. He didn't want it to become night. He didn't want to change again. He'd gone to a lot of effort to make sure that he didn't end up repeating the events of last night, but something could always go wrong.

Landel cut to the chase pretty fast this time around, and no other clues were given out. Did that mean that the rebel group hadn't been able to get through, or had they just run out of clues to give them? Did that mean they were on their own? Sora let out a breath and tried to manage the panic that was bubbling up in his chest.

Link was still here. Sora had hoped that his roommate would make a move to leave the second that night came, but it didn't look like that was the case. Of course not. If Sora was honest with himself, he'd known from the start that someone like Link wasn't going to leave him alone here.

Sora forced out a shaky sigh. He didn't feel anything yet, but he knew that it wouldn't be long before the darkness started to take over.

"I know you're worried," he said to Link, "but it's fine. My other friend should be here soon, so..." He wanted as few people as possible around when the change went through. Hopefully Tsurugi would get here soon, and then Link could leave.

[M99]

The clicking of the doors brought the Once-ler back to his current situation.  He had the last Truffula seed back, true, but (aside from giving him peace of mind) it did little in the way of anything productive.  Not that he had any real plans that could be considered productive.  The man intended to return to his room to wait out the night once he'd gone with Soma to see Rapunzel.

The Truffula seed itself made him less inclined to leave.  The last two nights had taught him very well that the halls were dangerous; the seed would be safest if kept in his room.  But the panic from not knowing what had happened to it was still fresh on his mind, and the man was loathe to leave it unattended for even a moment, let alone the time it would take to find Soma's room and then visit Rapunzel.

I could always just stay in, the Once-ler thought, then chased the possibility from his mind.  He had agreed to bring Soma to see Rapunzel; he had been the one to propose the idea!  He couldn't go back on his word.  The man had enough guilt to burden him for a lifetime without consciously adding to it.  And yet, he couldn't leave the seed behind.  There was no telling what would happen to it.

With a sigh, the man got to his feet.  He would have to take it with him.  Carefully he slipped it into a pocket, then went to retrieve his flashlight.  The Once-ler still had to rely on his crutch for support, but his leg was definitely feeling stronger than it had the previous night.  That at least was a good thing; it seemed like Sora had been right about the accelerated healing rate.

Flashlight in hand, the Once-ler found himself facing another dilemma.  Somehow he was going to have to juggle his flashlight, journal, and pen while using the crutch.  After a moment of thought, the man shuffled through his drawers and closet to see what he could come up with.  The results were dismal.  If only he had a needle, he could put together a makeshift bag with the cloth and thread in the clothes.  Frustrated, he shoved everything back into its place and tucked the journal under his arm, pressing it against the crutch.  That would have to do.

With one last check to make sure the Truffula seed was safely tucked away, the Once-ler flicked his flashlight on and stepped out into the darkened hallway.

After his conversation with Lloyd, Guy had spent the last shift of the day keeping an eye on the bulletin board to see if any more information came out about a cure. It sounded like surgery had definitely worked, even if it hadn't been the cleanest way to fix things -- but other than that, he didn't learn much. He had two healers on hand if Claude and Anise decided to go the surgery route, which was more than he'd had yesterday.

Dinner had only offered him more time in which to worry, because no amount of information would matter if one of his friends turned tonight. Each day that went by without them taking action pulled them closer to the possibility of one of them changing, and Guy didn't like that.

Still, he couldn't force Claude or Anise into anything. They would have to decide for themselves when they wanted to do something more drastic. Guy just felt that it was better to preempt this, rather than waiting for it to happen and then responding.

Locke kept to himself during dinner, which was probably for the best, as Guy was too distracted to be very good conversation. He noticed that Locke seemed under the weather himself, though, and wondered for a moment -- should he ask? But he already had two sick people to deal with; he couldn't afford to add someone else to that list.

When the intercom announcement came on, Guy only found it frustrating. For one thing, Landel didn't give them a number for how many patients would be changing tonight, which meant he had no idea what to expect. On top of that, the announcement wasn't interrupted with a clue this time -- in other words, they couldn't rely on the rebel group for help anymore.

Having changed into his outfit during dinner, Guy was ready to go meet the others. He grabbed his flashlight and sword, leaving the radio since it hadn't been any use for a while now. As usual, he told Locke to be careful before he left the room and moved down the hall.

[To here.]

[From here.]

By now, Guy had become so used to waiting for Claude out here that he had a spot picked out on the wall where he always leaned. But he couldn't do so very casually these days. Some of his anxiety had been quelled now that he knew Lloyd would be able to take action if Claude started to change, but he still dreaded what it would mean if Claude didn't make his way out here in the next few minutes.

At this point, Guy didn't know what they were doing with their night. They'd tossed around the idea of looking by the river for some sort of plant that could help with the healing process, but Guy didn't know if either of his friends were up for such a long journey.

He would leave it up to their judgment, but none of that would matter if they didn't show up. While Claude was the more immediate concern since he was just down the hall, Guy realized that if Anise changed, he didn't have any back-up plan for her. She might just tear through the halls trying to hurt people, and he wouldn't even know.

He let out a sigh and shifted his weight. This waiting was enough to shave a few years off his life, but he tried to stay calm.

[Waiting for Claude.]

[From here.]

Harvey stepped out of the block and then took the usual right down the hall, pondering over the coming challenge as he went. While he, Sangamon, and Scott had successfully passed that trial last night, it hadn't led to anything. Had they made a misstep somewhere? Or was there more that they had to do? They were going to have to try and get answers out of that damn skeleton again.

Speaking of which, the toll would be going to Sangamon tonight. Harvey wondered what he'd end up choosing. He figured it was between touch and voice, but it wasn't really his problem.

On one hand, Harvey was getting sick of going down into that dank cavern every night. On the other, it was good to always know what he was doing when the doors unlocked. He just hoped that all of this effort actually led somewhere.

[To here.]

With Rapunzel occupied, Tsubaki had no one to share her amazing discoveries with, not that she really knew what to make of them.

The thick, yellowy liquid she’d ingested seemed to be exactly what the Head Doctor’s note implied it to be--a healing draft of some kind. Instead of making her ill as she’d feared, she’d taken a peek under her bandages and noticed straight away that the cuts on her chest were rapidly healing. Not enough to make them made completely, but enough to be noticeable to the naked eye. And she’d only taken a small sip!

As far as she could tell, there were no side effects, either. The only strange thing to happen all dinner shift was the moment she opened her storage box and found throwing knives tucked inside. A whole set, sleek and black. Professional grade, too.

Tsubaki had spent a long while looking them over, perplexed. It wouldn’t be the first time a surprise had turned up in her things; the vial itself was one of them, the container of poison another. But ninja weapons? What was the motive behind giving her those? The Institute had conditioned her to be wary of blessings, given how double-sided they often were.

Blades would be useful, though. There was no doubt of that.

As the start of nightshift neared, Tsubaki had slipped them into her clothes, a strange taste of home in the act. It felt weird to be armed with more than just scalpels again. Granted, a few knives weren’t going to solve her and her friends’ problems, or prove the Head Doctor’s words wrong, but they were something tangible to hold onto. Something she might have to use before the night was out.

When the lock on the door finally clicked, it was like the starting gate at a race being flung wide. Time to go!

_{[to here]}

[From here.]

This was a trip that had gotten old ages ago, and so Harvey tried to make it as short as possible by falling into a brisk walk. He didn't go so far as to jog, since he didn't need to tire himself out before the action even started, but it was a good idea to save time where he could.

All of that was made very easy by the fact that there weren't any other patients around. He didn't know if it was because they were busy going through a painful transformation into some deadly monster, but if that was it, then he also wanted to get to a more open area sooner rather than later.

Harvey reached the end of the hall and rounded the corner into the main hall.

[To here.]

[From here.]

That hadn't taken long. So much so that it looked like he was the first person to make it this far. Harvey took a moment to scan the hall with his flashlight, including near the stairs, but he didn't see (or hear) much of anything. It was the sort of thing that set him on edge.

Since he couldn't do much else, he leaned himself against the wall by the stairs and then grabbed for his gun, holding it near his side as he waited. Normally he didn't take the weapon out unless he planned to shoot it, but when there was a possibility that some transformed patient might come barreling down the halls in the next few seconds, he wanted to take precaution.

Hopefully Scott and Sangamon would haul ass over here before all hell started to break loose. If things got too hairy, Harvey was ready to make a run for it on his own. That was the logical thing to do.

[Waiting for S.T.]