[ F2 ]

True enough, the intercom sounded off like clockwork. The doctor spoke, all pretenses were shed, and Orihime sat in her bed feeling simultaneously refreshed and nauseated by it, by the fact that they were little more than caged animals scrutinized beneath an indifferent eye. After spending the better part of the day distrusting strangers (the nurse that had followed her, the infamous head doctor), it was both a relief and a dread to witness the reality of it for herself – to understand, with an uncharacteristic yet self-aware sort of bitterness, that she had more than enough reason to dislike these people straight off the bat.

Orihime listened, fingers pressing indents into her mattress and trembling as she kept her composure, as she refused to let the careless message (if you don’t die) get to her. It was, still is, a learning process: she learned how to worry without so much of the weeping and the unnecessary bemoaning wails, the prying when she figured that her presence would be more of a hindrance than a help. And so it occurred to her that she should say something, to try to reassure Flora-san before she headed out (a high-five, perhaps? thumbs up?), but there wasn’t very much she could – can – do.

There wasn’t very much to say, was the thing. How horrible and what a heartless person were on the tip of her tongue, but she had no confidence that her voice wouldn’t shake (stammerwhisperbreak) if it committed to such loaded statements. Instead, she jumped out of bed the moment the door unlocked, grabbing her flashlight from underneath her pillow and pulling open her closet for a pair of sneakers, swallowing down the uneasiness that had clumped in the middle of her throat. The cold sweat was unavoidable though, even as her sweatshirt served as some form of comfort, even as she pretended that it was OK to let herself get away with it – with the sense of new hero empowerment that came with the responsibility she had assigned herself for the night. Pretending she didn’t know better.

“I’m sorry I can’t stick around. There are some people waiting on me,” she said, keeping her tone perfectly neutral even as she wondered to herself when exactly she’d picked up such a nifty trick. “But we’ll meet back here later, right, Flora-san? We will, and then we’ll-“ We’ll have a slumber party, we’ll have a pillow fight, I’ll teach you the secret of playing Monopoly.

Because we’ll be alive and okay.

She smiled, facing her new roommate. “We’ll get to know each other even more.”

With her flashlight in hand and her pins tucked along the right side of her hair, she ventured forth, opening the door and heading out into the hallway without a faltered step, a hesitant look back, even as the darkness swallowed her whole.

[ to here. ]

[ from here. ]

Learning process: she knew the monsters were there now, lurking behind every corner, within the shadows her flashlight cast whenever she redirected the beam. Last night had been a blur of confusion and apprehension, and this night was quickly turning out to be the same.

Or perhaps it was even more pronounced in all of its unknowns. A sharp blur of anxiety and fear that crept up on and crippled her more than the supposed limits imposed upon her powers, than her legs that felt like jelly beneath her with every successive step until she worried that they would trip her up as they had done the night before. It took a considerable amount of effort to tell herself that the monsters didn’t frighten her. A Hollow, Dracula, a Godzilla-sized Kon could pop out at her at any moment, but she knew – she was not afraid.

No, the monsters did not frighten her, but her imagination did worse. As Orihime made her way down the corridor, she attempted to instill some confidence in herself, to talk and try to start a conversation in hushed, whispered tones. “Ayame, Shun’o… You two are okay, right?” How apt, she thought, that if this asylum held any credibility to it, then perhaps she really was talking to the voices in her head, to the fairies that lived in her hairpins that allowed her to heal the wounded.

Putting it into perspective like that, she quickly realized she did not like the aforementioned perspective very much.

Learning process: she bypassed the door to the women’s restroom and made it to the door leading out to the bigger hallway she was led down earlier in the day. At the very least, she thought, it was progress.

[ to here. ]

Surprisingly, tonight's late night broadcast by Landel wasn't interrupted by a strange but helpful message. No new clues? Disappointing. Well, then again...if certain notes on the bulletin board were to be believed, then perhaps the prisoners here didn't need any more clues. Some had already found out how to be cured - or better yet, a few already had been cured. That meant searching for more answers was no longer necessary, right?

Regardless. Tonight's broadcast felt too...uneventful without an expected interruption. Landel's only threat was 'watch your back'. Was that it? Maybe the mundane nature of the broadcast was a sign that something else would happen later... But there was no use worrying about it. Zero would simply take Landel's advice to heart, just like he tried to do every other night here. (It had to be working if he were still alive.)

First thing's first: find his friends. Thanks to being attacked and perhaps also stopping to take care of wounds, the group hadn't made it to their destination last night...so X and Harpuia remained ill-equipped to deal with threats on their own. As long as they were unarmed, Zero would not feel comfortable leaving them to do as they pleased without him. The sooner he headed over to them now, the better. Trying not to waste any time, he collected his usual things - gun, extra ammo, boots, set of maps...

.... Ciel's coat...

No, he wasn't expecting to go outside into the noticeably loud thunderstorm, but just in case... It did give him extra pockets, after all... He'd spent all of dinner just questioning why it was here, not even bothering to touch his food...would be a shame to just leave something useful like this behind...

...A moment later, the coat was on, the first aid kit and gun slipped into the pockets. Now, after throwing a 'take care' at Gabe, he was ready to run out the door.

[To here.]

[From here, and for the robutt gang!]

The nearly empty block hallway did nothing to relieve Zero's growing suspicion that something wasn't right. Why weren't there more people around? Perhaps Landel was using some of them, as he'd been used. Or others were transforming, just like that prisoner from the night before - Sora - and the one mentioned on the board...the one who'd attacked two children before being taken down. Landel had said to 'watch your back'...

...well. Empty or not, at least Zero was in the right place to find his allies now. He slowed his brisk walking pace for a moment as he wondered if he should try to go to Harpuia's room directly or wait out here for him to show up. (Hopefully X would be with him.) If this were simply a matter of him getting here too quickly, then they should be coming out of their rooms soon...

Finally, it was nighttime. Now Rita could actually get some work done.

This time, she was more prepared than ever - with her full outfit from home, and all the convenient pockets that came with it. She didn't bother with a backpack this time, opting instead to place her radio, talismans, notebook and a pen in the various pockets on her person. Between the smaller load and her recovery from the wounds of past nights, Rita felt ready to take on the world.

... Which was probably about as ready as she needed to be, if she wanted to be able to take down the Head Doctor without her full powers.

Having already decided where to go and what to do, Rita stepped out into the hallway, immediately making her way towards the main hall.

[to here]

[from here, skipping a few halls]

Here it was. Skulduggery wasn't around yet, but Rita expected he would show up soon. He'd been punctual up until now.

If what she'd been hearing was right, she was going to need to look out for both monsters and patients tonight. Seemed simple enough. Rita stood with her back against the wall opposite to the Sun Room doors, and waited.

The intercom coughed on. As usual. S.T. kept his face planted in the pillow as the Head Bastard went on about waffles or whatever they were having for dinner. Wait, stick a pencil in the cassette and spin to rewind. Dinner? Shit. He'd lost the entire day. Did people still say rewind? Cassette tapes were like Neanderthals. A scientifico-evolutionary dead end, leaving only its bones behind.

The lights switched off while he was still stumbling out of bed and over to the desk, leaving him to stuff teriyaki chicken in his mouth with sticky hands. He wiped them on the blankets. Room service didn't understand the concept of saving water, so why not? Landel was in creep mode now, all absent-minded professor gone bad. None of the tempura had come back to life and started trying to strangle him, yet, so Landel was lying about the unexpected.

He wiggled out of sweats and into jeans, threw his ever-increasing magic jewelry collection into his back pocket, and went with a minimal setup. One piece of pipe, one brand-new flashlight, still off. Sleeping all day meant he had no idea if anything else had gone wrong with the disease threats. If Landel was still all smoke and no acid rain. Or if Harvey and Scott were expecting him to show up. He'd go see.

[to here]