Day 27: Intercom, Evening

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

The intercom gave its cheery jingle just before the Head Doctor's equally buoyant voice rang through the halls.

"Ah, and finally, our day is coming to a close! Rooms and roommates have been reassigned with care, though what great partnership can start without a good meal? Ah, yes, after the nurses escort all of our patients, new and old, back to their proper rooms, everyone will have the chance to enjoy a savory chicken pot pie, full of peas, carrots, potatoes, and of course, chicken. On the side, we'll have buttery corn on the cob and green beans, and to drink, you may choose from the regular slew of water, milk, or assorted juices, which your nurse will bring to you.

"I believe that's all for now! Phew, long day, huh? I know I'll be happy to get some sleep, and thank you to all our vigilant doctors and nurses, although Dr. House seems to have gone AWOL... Hmm... Well, in any case, have a good dinner, everyone!"

The intercom clicked off again as the nurses began organizing the patients for the small trek back to their rooms.

[ OOC: Remember, room threads go in response to THIS post, and please put your respective room number in the subject line of your first post. Thanks! ]

Comments

F15

[claire-ity.livejournal.com]

Claire stepped into her room without even looking at her roomate, taking her dinner plate and choosing to sit it on her lap as she ate in bed.

Claire wasn't sure what was wrong with the other blond, if she was seriously unstable or just got her thrills like this. Either way, the former cheerleader wanted to just be left alone tonight.

Re: F15

[twelveapathy.livejournal.com]

Being already in the room, it was impossible for Larxene not to notice Claire’s arrival. She was messing around with her journal when she saw her come in.

“Hey there!” said the Nobody, giving her a wave of the hand, though it went mostly unnoticed by the younger girl.

Aw, somebody was grumpy for dinner.

“Looks like someone finished what I began last night.” She remarked, eyes the cheerleader’s hair as she leafed through the empty pages of her notebook. “If only you hadn’t been so hasty, I could’ve finished it myself.”

F32

[simpleastherain.livejournal.com]

Orihime followed the nurse away after the last shift. It had been an extremely long, strange day. Her head felt far too full of disorganized questions and worries.

Where did Aizen and Kankura town fit into all of this? She should be focusing on getting back home like the rest of her friends. The others had been here for a while now weathering monster-filled nights and days like this with their power only a fraction of what it really was and...she was still glad to see them alright. It was like they couldn't be stopped by anything. Rukia was alive. There was hope for Chad still.

Comon', cheer up Orihime.

She took a silent breath and released it. Luckily, there was distraction. The first thing she noticed upon entering her room was the presence of another person. Her roomate, the nurse explained before closing the door.

Orihime let her curiosity get the better of her; she crept over to the other bed and kneeled beside it, resting her arms very lightly on the cover to peer at the girl. Was she hurt..? It was pretty late to be sleeping...

Re: F32

[trelesekrayotre.livejournal.com]

Tear had been sleeping quite soundly until she heard the door close and the nurse's voice. Something seemed strange though. For all the Tear knew she thought she was still at the Belkend Inn. So why was that voice unfamiliar? Was it someone who worked at the Inn, perhaps? Well, boy was she wrong.

Tear laid there quietly, eyes closed. Was it an attack? She couldn't piece it together. And then she felt a part of the cover move as someone rested on it. A slight movement but enough to get her thinking. It had to be a surprise attack of sorts. Under the blanket Tear was trying to grab the small knives that she always kept on her stockings but they were gone. How did that happen?

She didn't wait too much longer before she sprang up and moved behind the girl and tried to twist her arm behind her back. Though, she did this at such a terrible speed. Had she been drugged? Why was she moving so slow? Too many questions for now. She could worry about that later but for now she only had one thing to say; "Who are you?" She spoke harshly and cold. She kept her grip on the girl making sure she couldn't move but not hard enough to where it would hurt her. It very well could have been a false alarm, after all.

M101

[byakushi.livejournal.com]

A pot pie? wondered Kuchiki Byakuya, as he was led back to his room. By the sound of it, I would more label such a creation a culinary abortion. As a process, cooking was much like art: a skilled cook could wield flavor as a skilled calligrapher wielded ink. By the description provided, though, they did not have any such artists employed at the institute; rather, they had ape. Apes trained to pick up any foodstuff they desired, and toss it into a pot, and call that pot food. Idiocy.

Despite his mental complaints, Byakuya was quite hungry, and, with a long night ahead of him... missing a meal would be a terrible idea. At the least, he did his best not to taste the stuff. He was, for a moment, distracted, though: the room had two beds. Two of everything, in fact; was he to share it, then?

If so... where was the other resident?

Re: M101

[longlivetheking]

The other resident happened to be a little late when it came to arriving in his room for dinner. Scar had wanted to figure out more about these books and his sudden ability to understand the symbols within them, but to his irritation the nurse had insisted to escort the ex-lion back to his room. Or, perhaps in Scar's case, drag him back to his room. Two legs were, after all, quite the hassle for someone who previously used four.

Upon entering he noticed another man within his room, along with the annoyance at the fact he was going to share this otherwise private space. Scar had hoped he could process all the new information in peace before deciding to stumble out into the hallway tonight, but it would seem it wasn't the case.

And not just that, but he'd have another witness for his embarrassing attempt at eating, which was another lovely way of ending a strange yet terribly embarrassing day. Hopefully, this particular man wouldn't be too much of a headache. He had enough of that already, even without the company of drooling canines producing hysterical laughter all day.

"So, we will be sharing this pleasant little space, then." He said, unable to hide the sarcasm in his voice. His remark was nearly followed with another, but he chose to swallow it. After all, he had no idea what kind of person he was dealing with.

His gaze shifted into the direction of his meal and he couldn't help but to make a face. Scar didn't quite mind the chicken (at least birds was something he was familiar with), but he didn't understand why all the extras were added to an otherwise perfectly fine meal. Not to mention that it left the inevitable question;

How in the world was he supposed to eat it?

M80

[plaguedred.livejournal.com]

He hadn't really talked to his roommate before; he raised an eyebrow at the partnership comment as he heard it. Sure. He'd buy that, well, when they were out of here.

Still, he didn't have a good sense of who the man was, and there was no point in alienating anyone here.

(Well. Almost anyone.)

So Krauser went back to M80 prepared to chat.

Re: M80

[devourthem.livejournal.com]

Being hardly convinced that this partnership his fellow Tuner was trying to organize would work, the redhead was in his particularly foul mood, glaring holes into the back of his nurse's stark-white uniform. Arriving at his room, she gave him a condescending smile, wagging a finger in his face. "Now, get along with Mr. Morris, all right? I don't want to hear about you trying to..." she paused, looking for a verb that wasn't 'eat'. "...disagree with him." Clearly, she wouldn't soon be forgetting his trying to eat her face. Even now, he had to grit his teeth to keep from gnawing her finger off. A quick pat on his head, and she shuttled him into the room, shutting the door tightly.

He snorted at the sight of his roommate, moving past him to the unoccupied bed, roughly pushing the disgusting human meal away from him. It was probably for the best that Roland had promised food later on. His stomach was empty enough that he had almost tried for the nurse's throat again.

M103

[tendencytohiss.livejournal.com]

Upon waking, Crowley's first thought was that his head hurt.

Well, to be absolutely precise, it was less a thought and more blessed burning pain ow sort of sensation, but the general idea was about the same. Irritably rubbing at his eyes, he willed his headache away. That must have been the pinnacle of all drunken binges last night if he'd fallen asleep before even remembering to sober himself up.

Except he didn't remember drinking last night. In fact, he didn't remember drinking last afternoon, last morning, or at all point yesterday. Also, his headache had gotten perversely worse, as if thinking about it had angered it somehow, and it was determined to exact some twisted revenge on Crowley.

Crowley shook his head (a bad idea) and looked about the room he was in. He didn't recognize it, which wasn't good. It was plain and white and filled with bright fluorescent light, and so hideously decorated it hurt him almost as much as the headache. His clothes we equally somber, some sort of grey and baggy monstrosity with a happy face looming up from the center of it, as welcoming as Satan's own visage. Their was one bed across the room from him, its sheets undisturbed.

This blessed room was as depressing as hell on a bad day, Crowley thought, and stared irritably at his clothes. If nothing else, he could will himself into some better clothing. More fashionable. Less terrible.

Except that wasn't working either. He couldn't change anything, and it took him a moment to place the harsh sound in the room, rapid and necessary breaths. He had to breathe. If he stopped, the lack of oxygen would eventually kill him. He'd breathed before - it was commonplace enough - but he'd never had to. It was required now, something he had to do, and that was not as it should be.

He was not panicking. In fact, Crowley had the situation well under control, and trying to bring out his wings was more checking than anything, and not because he was panicking -

The effort of trying to force his wings out nearly knocked him back onto the bed he'd so recently vacated. His vision washed with red, and he breathed (because he had to) while his vision - and his headache - cleared.

He couldn't do it. He could feel them, somewhere inside him, but he was cut off from them, at least for now.

In a room, dressed in things he wouldn't have been caught dead in - not that he'd been able to die, but it was the intent that mattered - and cut off from his demonic abilities, caged in something terribly close to truly mortal. There was only one explanation for all of this.

He was in Hell, and they'd gotten creative since he'd last left.

M103

[highlord-ofhell.livejournal.com]

Instead of annoyed, Saetan was amused this time at being escorted so solicitously back to his new room. He noted the room number to make finding it again easier. Dinner sounded appetizing and almost familiar, though now he had a proper appetite he'd rather be at home eating one of Mrs. Beale's masterpieces of culinary art and enjoying some wine from the cellars.

His next surprise, not entirely pleasant though not unexpected since he'd noticed the two beds per room when he'd awakened earlier, was that he had a roommate. Oh yes, the head doctor had mentioned that in the announcement about dinner. As the nurse swanned off to get him some milk to go with his pie and vegetables, Saetan crossed to his side of the room, checking the wardrobe and desk drawers, while covertly examining the young man on the other side of the room. Well, he looked young. Again, like many of the patients here there was an oddness to his psychic scent that marked him as not strictly a landen, but too alien to be Blood.

He pulled the long coat--very heavy and warm to be sure, but a layer of stiff cloth between his skin and teeth, claws or blades could only help--from the closet. He draped it over the bed as the nurse returned with his meal, smiled inanely at them, and departed again. No one had spoken yet.

"Are you also new?" he asked the other man before he sat down to eat.

F19

[queenpeacecraft.livejournal.com]

Things were starting to look up, in Relena's mind. They had plans, a map, and objectives to go after tonight.

Only one thing nagged at her. Relena sat down at the desk to eat when she realized what that was - Sakura wasn't there yet. That didn't concern her too much yet, as some of the nurses could be really slow in escorting them from place to place, so she decided to go ahead and eat.

Minutes passed, and still no word from Sakura. "How odd," she said softly. And so unlike her roommate, but Relena resolved not to worry unless the other girl didn't show at all this evening.

F18

[per-ardua.livejournal.com]

Raine didn't even put her book down to start eating--it was interesting, and she could do quite a bit while reading after so many years of practice (she vaguely remembered walking while reading quite frequently even as a child in Heimdall).

And it stopped her from thinking, because the list she'd spent some of the previous shift writing up, of things to consider for the various aid societies, was too depressing. She was starting to make long-term plans, and that was the last thing she wanted to do here. She was far from the only person who wanted nothing more than to get home, but... knowing that didn't help.

She could stay busy, at least. It was all she could do, but it helped, somewhat. She'd be better when Nightshift started. She wasn't sure what that said about her, but it was true.

Re: F18

[1imited-edition.livejournal.com]

Rein was in a slightly melancholy mood when she was ushered back to her room, though she smiled at the sight of Raine reading and eating at the same time.

Amaterasu's troubles were her troubles. Just as she protected Raine as a potent healer and source of aid to the patients, she felt she must support the goddess, who was the bastion of moral support to her fellow prisoners Rein could not yet become. And she wasn't sure how to continue helping Raine, or how to start helping Amaterasu...

It was these problems she considered as she ate, chasing herself in the endless circles of thought she despised so despite herself.

M50

[bigshotbarret.livejournal.com]

The plans were semi-complete. The details would be worked out once everyone arrived at Rufus' room, and things would then be set in motion.

Barret couldn't help but rove over the happenings of the night before as well as the day that had just passed. He had gone from embarrassed, to angry, to disgusted, to tolerant in the matter of 24 hours. Perhaps it was the broader picture that kept him in check, needing to find a way out with assistance and the desire to see his child again. She was his fuel, his constant motivation. He'd crawl across coals for that one.

Looking at his food with distaste, he forced himself to devour the pot pie. The strength would be needed for what could potentially go down than night. He'd threatened Sephiroth, and careful thought after the fact made him realize it was probably poor judgment on his part. No, it was a stupid idea, but his fascination with Cloud ignited the need to detour his attention. He was pretty sure he didn't succeed, as this foe was not easily distracted. He just hoped Cloud wouldn't be stupid enough to actually meet with him... He wondered if it was a good idea to leave Cloud to his own devices and trust he would show on his own. Perhaps he would go to his room and be his personal escort to the gathering. Yeah, that was an idea...

M41

[rabastlestrange.livejournal.com]

"I had a roomie, didn't I, Jack?"

Bast was feeling relatively okay about life, Wesker on his mind more than anything as he headed into his room. Requesting juice, he gave his nurse the sweetest smile he had while plunking down to eat like a good little patient. What to do tonight? He didn't have anyone to go around with, and he wasn't sure going by himself was a good idea. Maybe he could just go to the kitchen for some chocolate. That would help.

Since Qui-Quir-Quit-Whateverhisnamewas didn't appear to be showing up anytime soon, Bast set to doing what he did best: invading someone else's privacy by going through their things.

M89

[neverreallyfit.livejournal.com]

For all that Sam was more than tired of being escorted from one place to another with no more choice than whether to sit in the sun room or in the library, he was somewhat relieved to be ushered into the relative solitude of his room once again. The lack of ambient chatter made it easier for him to hear himself think. And there was a great deal to think about, bits and pieces to consider in the hopes that they might slot themselves together into something that would begin to resemble a tangible whole. He refused to allow himself to consider the possibility that the whole picture, whatever it might be, could possibly make as little sense to him as the scraps of information he already possessed.

Sam settled himself at the desk, cracking open the journal the Institute had been so kind as to provide him. A pen sat balanced between the middle and forefinger of his right hand, tip occasionally dipping to tap against the page as he ate, absently. His mind wasn't on the process of eating; the food was fuel and nothing more, a lesson learned long ago in a nigh-endless string of roadside diners.

Even so, the page wasn't exactly filling up with writing.

M29

[deathinvitation.livejournal.com]

Sephiroth, as usual, ignored the nurse as he headed back to his room. Her question to him went unanswered. What did he care what he drank? Did it truly matter? Letting her leave whatever she wished, Sephiroth began eating mechanically. Once again, it was a matter of keeping himself running than enjoying food.

Sitting on his bed, he gave thought to whether or not to pay those of Shin-Ra and AVALANCHE a visit. It wouldn't accomplish much, perhaps pushing too much too soon. He would have an answer before the doors unlocked.

And hopefully, his roommate wouldn't be a human although he didn't have much faith in it not being.

M95

[swollenmothman.livejournal.com]

When Dib closed his eyes that night, that horrible night in which he had finally obtained a recording of Zim doing evil things but then the recording was smashed to pieces by an army of cyborg zombie ninjas that were passing by to do equally evil things... He had expected that he would wake up in the morning to face another miserable day in life. He would go to Skool with his sister, listen to Ms. Bitters rant about how terrible life and everything else is (“Like I need to be reminded,” Dib muttered during said rants, before the teacher suffocated him for speaking out of turn), and go to lunch, where he would have to eat such culinary monstrosities as “Corn and Mayonnaise.” Seriously, who actually swallows that stuff on their free time? After Skool, he would spend the rest of the day successfully foiling Zim’s plans, but in the process get humiliated by either his family or the rest of mankind.

All in all, he was just expecting another day in the Horrible Life of Dib. But like many of his expectations, such a thing never came to pass again. That said, when he opened his eyes, the stark, blinding whiteness of his surroundings were rather... shocking.

“AAAGH!” he screamed loud and piercingly, immediately getting up to his feet on the floor at this startling change. “Where am I?” he asked to no one in particular, now going into a flurry of flustered questioning. “How did- Why am- What the-“ Dib paused and squinted his eyebrows in anger as the most reasonable explanation popped into his head.

“Zim,” he snarled with the utmost hatred that a boy his age could handle. “That makes sense. That was his evil plan; to lull me in a false sense of security and throw me into a bland, white room!” He slapped his palm against his forehead at this careless mistake, but lowered it as another question arose from his rather large head. “Wait a second... What could he do with me in a bland, white room?” Dib glanced down at himself, seeing not the usual trench coat attire, but a dull grey uniform. “And why would he want to change my clothes? The alien’s too stupid to think I would have valuable information on my clothes...”

Behind the round spectacles he always wore, he scanned the room for any other clues as to his location. “Let’s see...” he said as he approached the writing desk, when suddenly there was a quite audible squeak to his right, accompanied by gentle footsteps. He turned his head, and was not just surprised to see a smiling nurse there, but that there was a door that he could have used. “How come I didn’t see that?” Dib commented, incredulous at yet another mistake he made.

Ignoring the boy’s words, the nurse calmly greeted him, cheerfully saying, “Good evening, Andrew.”

Dib raised his eyebrows. This was... weird. “Andrew? Umm... Sorry, but my name’s not Andrew. It’s much shorter: Dib!”

The nurse’s smile faded into a concerned, more serious grimace. “Tsk, tsk,” she said, “it’s just as your father says... That’s quite a shame at such a young age.”

“Wait, my father?!” he exclaimed. This was bad. Really bad. “Then it could be only one thing...” Bracing for the worst, he stated, “I’m in a-“

“Mental institution, yes,” the nurse finished, almost sadly. An odd tone to hear, for Dib; he was never used to pity. “But the doctors will explain to you later. Right now, I need to take you to dinner!”

“Wait- what- huh?” Dib stuttered, taken with surprised as the nurse gently grabbed hold of his hand and dragged him outside the room. “What’s going on?!”

M17

[theheirshinra.livejournal.com]

Rufus was not happy as he stalked into his room, waving off the nurse trying to check his face.

"I'm fine, woman! Let me be," he growled.

"Now, Mr Marlowe..." she began.

"Go."

A nice shiner was appearing on Rufus face, a result of tangling with the Schwarz Farfarello on the way out. It had been unexpected to say the least, the Irishman jumping on him before Rufus was even aware that he had been grabbed. Had he been back on Gaia, the Turks would have put at least ten rounds into the man's heart before Rufus would have reached the ground.

Glancing around the room, Rufus pulled his tray towards himself roughly and began picking at the food. Fuck. Now he had to explain -this- to Reno.

F25

[inb4crazy.livejournal.com]

Mion felt rather antsy tonight. In a short while, when it was time for night, she'd be running off to find Rena. She'd hoped to tell Celes this beforehand, but hadn't had the chance - and with the arrival of food - Mion had gotten distracted.

"Last night's was better..." Mion mumbled to herself inbetween bites, idly wondering if she should steal the silverware. Perhaps wait for steak to be dinner, a steak knife would be beyond useful. ... There were steak knives, right? "Or better yet something Japanese!"

M4

[be-my-tool.livejournal.com]

Zabuza came into the room and set about eating his meal. He ate quickly, sure to pick out the parts of the meal that would give him the most energy. He was impatiently waiting for Night. He wanted to see Haku and know if the boy was alright.

He still had his own nightly ritual of getting ready, but the doors couldn't unlock soon enough for him.

F2

[kaerutokoro.livejournal.com]

It was rather odd to come back to a room one had been in just twenty minutes prior, but Rena had no complaints. Tonight, Mion was going to join her, and hopefully, the two of them would figure out, well, something. Unlike last night...

Last night. Her fork paused in her dinner as the girl realized a very important fact: she didn't know what had happened to Sora. He was wounded from the one girl's arrow attack, Rena recalled. The boy couldn't have died on her...right? He didn't seem the type.

Rena resolved to find out either tonight or the next morning concerning his condition, as well as apologize for her uselessness. They would have reached the shed in time if she hadn't gotten herself unconscious.

F23

[blazing-general.livejournal.com]

Signum hadn't been in the best mood today. Between Momo's poor health, Renji's snub, and the arrival of what seemed (if it was even possible) to be another shinigami even more arrogant than his kin for her to force herself to kowtow to, she had plenty to be annoyed or worried over. Her discovery of Saber and the woman's subsequent choice to join her group, though, had improved on it considerably. Whatever issues she might have with the rest of Arts & Crafts, her own team was everything she could hope for, short of the rest of the Wolkenritter of her friends in the TSA.

Thoughts so buoyed, she set upon her dinner.

Re: F23

[personincharge.livejournal.com]

"Ms. Dawson, it's not healthy to bottle up your frustration like that," reprimanded the nurse (while smiling, of course) as she led The Boss back to her room. "Try taking a few deep breaths and don't let it get to you. We're only here to help!"

True enough, The Boss was still uncharacteristically frustrated, not only with the knowledge that EVA had been here under her nose and then had disappeared, but with being separated from Fox before she could learn much of anything about it. Even if Utena could have been a source of information, that had gone nowhere as well, leaving The Boss as clueless about her situation as she had been when she started.

Even more uncharacteristic was the fact she didn't ignore her nurse's babbling.

"Stay out of it," she snarled to her, glaring sharply. The nurse was entirely unphased.

"Now, Ms. Dawson, we can't simply ignore your problems," the nurse continued, meeting The Boss's grimace with her own pasted-on smile. "Whether you like it or not, our job is to help you, and getting mad at any of us won't accomplish anything."

The Boss's only response was to glare again and say nothing for the rest of the walk back. And once she finally arrived at her room, she ignored dinner as well, in interrogation mode almost as soon as the nurse left.

"How long have I been out?" demanded The Boss sternly as she approached Signum. "Where was I?"

M72

[i-promised.livejournal.com]

The hallways were growing darker as time passed, the stillness creeping in on Zoro as he watched nurses usher other patients (prisoners) into their rooms. His sixth sense (of sorts) was acting up and he knew better than to ignore the voice that had aided him for so long.

Something dangerous was coming in with the darkness.

The nurse had said something about a new room and some kind of roommate waiting for him. If that was code for “people are hiding in your room to execute you”, the swordsman figured he’d better be ready for them.

It was with significantly tense shoulders that Zoro entered his new room, armed with a deadly tray of pie. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but at least the people he found hiding were of the same caliber. Which was to say, he’d found no one.

The room was empty but he waited until he heard the soft click of the door behind him. He wasn’t used to turning his back on an enemy he’d decided to beat but the situation called for an unfortunate amount of prudence he’d have to practice, for now. The nurse’s “Goodnight Mr. Hunter” was ringing in his ears, though, like a taunt they both knew he couldn’t answer.

Goddamnit. He really needed to get his swords back.

He set his tray of food aside and shuffled towards the bed that had been pointed out for him. Zoro was hungry, but it was far from urgent and there were more important things for him to be doing.

Like napping. And thinking about everything he’d heard that afternoon.

The bed wasn’t ideal to sleep under but Zoro was far from comfortable with being in the immediate line of sight of the door. Besides, after months at sea, his back was having a bit of a time adjusting to mattresses.

Zoro sat in front of the closet, trying to get some shut eye before any of the actual danger started.

Re: M72

[tenchou.livejournal.com]

Unfortunately, shut-eye was something that Zoro would find in short supply, considering the talkative and inquisitive nature of his new roommate. Talking and inquiring, in fact, had been two things that Urahara had been deprived of these last few shifts; he'd been accosted with an astonishingly strong headache sometime around lunchtime, and had he not gotten his food from the same pile as everyone else, he might have suspected that the innocently delicious pancakes had been laced with something sordid.

In any case, he was feeling better now, though he felt inwardly uneasy that he was going into the infamous Nightshift with no more information than the bulletin board equivalent of: "There are monsters, and it's pretty damn scary."

To his surprise and delight, he found a roommate already in his room once he got there, who he approached despite the other man's restful state.

"Excuse me, but would you happen to know what happens in this place once the lights go out?" Urahara asked. Ichimaru being here (or at least appearing to be here) had unsettled him more than it had assuaged his suspicions of Aizen having a hand in this, though even if this was all an illusion, Urahara was sure that knowing what he was getting into could never be a bad thing.

He really wished he'd been able to talk to Kurosaki, but there was no time for regret now: He could only move forward.

M7

[lighthearted]

There had been ups and downs to Sora's day, but his mood was pretty good by the time he made it back to his room. He had gotten to talk to Axel that morning, which was nice, but with that had come the news of Roxas' disappearance. Then he'd been able to speak with MOMO for a while and make sure she was okay, which was glad he'd found the chance to do. He hoped she was all right.

Then the situation with Renji and his captain. He wasn't quite certain what to make of that, but he was glad he would get to work with the man tonight. He was still a little torn over the fact that he had been forced to abandon Kairi, but he was needed and she understood that, right? Besides, it seemed like Utena was a good person who would take care of his friend.

Sora was a little curious to see how things were with his roommate, though. The boy hadn't been willing to accept what he had been telling him the night before, but maybe things had changed since then. Either way, there was always dinner to be eating, though chicken pot pie sounded sort of strange...

Re: M7

[palerepetition.livejournal.com]

Auel shuffled into the room, pointedly ignoring everything but his waiting dinner. He had been in a better mood during the rest of the day, with nobody bothering him too much. Even the arts and crafts room had been slightly less lame than he thought it would be.

He had been able to forget how grating it was that his cheerful roommate just might have been right about monsters and the like, but now he was annoyed all over again.

A few unnecessarily violent passes at the chicken pot pie, and he was feeling a little better. He even felt up to actually talking.

"I'm not going to say you were right about anything." He said without looking up from his food. It was as much of an admission that he had been wrong as he would be willing to give.

M18

[face-of-chaos.livejournal.com]

His previous meeting with Mark and Light had been rather informative, and it had left the knight with a great deal to think over as he was ushered back to his room. It didn’t appear that Dias had arrived just yet, Yuber noted as he silently made his way over to his bed. Lounging himself down in a seemingly casual way, Yuber gave the appearance of nonchalance. The sharpness within his gaze though was the only give away that he was anything but, as he remained relaxed out on the bed with his arms folded neatly behind his head.

There seemed to be a busy night ahead of him after this meal, and it left Yuber curious to know just what pieces of information he’d be able to gather from his meetings. Logan’s would hopefully prove beneficial, and the same with his desire to meet with Usopp, but it was the meeting with Light that truly held the knight’s curiosity. There was just something off about that human, and he would find out what it was.

Re: M18

[heavens-too-far.livejournal.com]

In some ways, Dias and his roommate were rather similar; as Yuber had, Dias made his entrance to the room silently and moved over to his bed, sitting down and digging into his pot pie without preamble. Even if socializing had ever been a high priority for him, he was ravenous - he wasn't used to skipping meals - and he had somewhere to be tonight. Whoever Alucard and Integra were, he hoped they'd wait for him; he'd promised to meet Ashton before he left(and might as well go to his room in any case, to meet up with Claude, who had to pick up one of Ashton's swords), and while he hoped to be able to accomplish that quickly it would still slow him down getting to their meeting place.

He did, once his preoccupation lifted enough, glance over at his roommate. The blond didn't look particularly open to conversation; he was probably as immersed in his own thoughts as Dias was.

F16

[notexactlyrich.livejournal.com]

Haruhi followed the nurse quietly to her room, thinking about the coming night. She'd run into few people her first two tries at this, and she was nervous (maybe a little excited) at the prospect at meeting more.

And the monsters... She wasn't sure what to think about that.

Since they were eating dinner in their rooms, Haruhi would be meeting her roommate, right? It was probably that blue-haired girl she had seen her first night here, the one who wouldn't wake up. Haruhi wondered who she was, where she was from, what she was doing here, if she was as green as Haruhi was...

She stuck a fork into her chicken pot pie.

F4

[notearthlogic.livejournal.com]

Today had, in a word, sucked. It all started at breakfast, and Haruhi had spent most of the day fuming over the mornings events. She was still doing so now, at dinner. Two fights in one morning... well, she would have expected it from Bella but what was up with Kyon? It wasn't like him to act like this, even if he had heard that one comment of hers. So what did it matter if she didn't care about the old members of the Brigade? He didn't have to get angry about it!

Well fine, she was just going to make a bigger and better Brigade here. Yup, she definitely would. Even as she thought this, her thoughts went back to the fight with Kyon. Ah, it was all so confusing! Maybe she should just stay in her room tonight and make things easier.

No. She had not just thought that.

She dug into her dinner quickly, hoping to get her mind off things. She was definitely going insane now if she thought staying in her room would do any good.

F4

[bara-no-shinrou.livejournal.com]

Utena, by this point, had become used to being herded; that did not mean she liked it, though. Most of the time, she would walk ahead of her assigned nurse, to avoid being led by the arm; this time, though, she was just a tad bit lost in thought, making her minimal display of rebellion impossible.

"Theresa...? Theresa, are you alright?" the nurse asked, as they arrived at the room.

"Hm?" she replied; had she really been that out of it? "Oh, yeah... no, I was just thinking." About tonight... she had an actual plan! Albeit, not one of her own design; however, one could not be picky. What she was doing was important, and that was good enough.

"Oh... hello, Suzumiya-san," she said, once she realized the room was occupied. "Haven't seen you around recently."

M46

[repolarization.livejournal.com]

Ginji hadn't eaten a lot that day. The recounted tale from Roland had left him feeling kind of sick. However, talking to Kyon and what Kyon had done for him had cheered him up and now he was extremely hungry!

The food was strange, but it always was, but it was tasty and it was food! Humming to himself he happily ate away, finishing his pot pie very quickly.

Hopefully tonight he would be able to walk again. He was getting sick of the wheelchair.

M66

[wantsyourzex.livejournal.com]

Some time alone to think and eat... that was always welcome. Not to mention it would give him some time to himself to practice eating with human utensils. It was still a struggle to remind himself how to hold each of them and what they did.

So bothersome. Humans made food so complicated.

At least this also gave ZEX a chance to meet his new roommate... he hoped they were pretty.

M44

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Claude was a little disappointed to have the shift end so suddenly, but his conversation with Guy had put him in a good mood. It was always comforting to know that there were good, nice people in a place like this, and that it was still possible to have normal chats. Not that he was for ignoring what was going on around them, but people who constantly obsessed over how to get out, all day, everyday, were bound to burn themselves out, or miss meeting someone important, or fail to find out something new about themselves.

After all, there was always a bright side to everything. Claude kept telling himself that. It made things a lot more bearable in his mind, which was always a good thing.

When he arrived in his room, he was a little surprised to find Asch had already arrived. Except...well, he was sleeping, which was strange. Claude hoped he hadn't fallen ill or gotten himself sedated. But he didn't seem to be in any discomfort or pain, so the blond decided to just let him rest for now. Making sure not to cause too much of a racket, he settled down in front of his food and began to chow down.

It wasn't a steak like the night before, but Claude was a fan of just about anything people put in front of him. To his delight, the chicken pot pie was delicious. If there was one thing he could appreciate about this place, it was the fact they not only bothered to feed them, but they actually fed them well.

Like fattening a turkey for Christmas dinner, he couldn't help but think, and he abruptly shook his head to himself. No. Don't say that...

No one was gonna be the Head Doctor's holiday feast. It was just a matter of time, and then they'd all be free. Things had to work out...somehow.

With no one to chat with, it didn't take Claude long to finish his dinner. With that done, he pushed aside his empty plate, picked up his notebook, and settled back in his seat with a pen in his hand. Maybe he could write or doodle something. After all, if he was going to wait around for the doors to unlock, he figured he might as well do something to occupy his mind.