Day 36: Arts & Crafts Room

[notaleaf.livejournal.com]

The nurse had told Wash he could go anywhere he wanted and the thought Is home included in that? crossed his mind, but that sounded too pathetic to say aloud, even for him. So he silently eenie meenie minie moe'd through his options, ended up choosing the Sun Room, and then promptly decided the Arts and Crafts room would be more interesting. At least there might be stuff he could fiddle with and distract himself.

A part of him couldn't decide if he was relieved or not he didn't get a visitor. He didn't think it would've gone the way a proper visit was supposed to go, but...

He stepped into the room and sat down at an empty table, rifling through the materials absently. This place looked much too cheerful. Although maybe that was better than looking much too scary, but it was so cheerful it was almost scary and now he was starting to confuse even himself.

After a second, he picked up a pair of scissors (these weren't scissors, they were more like plastic chopsticks) and a sheet of construction paper and began cutting.

[hi Badou~]

Comments

[strayfag]

Visitor shift had done a fabulous job of pissing him off. Even the nurses seemed weary (but pleased none the less) when Badou's usual whining about cigarettes was replaced by furious silence. He was about three seconds from tearing out a nurse's throat, needles be damned, when they replaced his stupid nicotine patch and shoved him off into a room full of...good cheer.

With fresh though unsatisfying nicotine flowing through his veins again, it was easier to be more sullen than homicidal. He'd been so close to an entire pack of cigarettes he'd even touched them for several seconds. It was like the gentle caress of a lover being torn away when you were just about to screw like wild animals in heat.

And now they were gone. And Haine was gone. And he still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he was probably on his own in this because Haine was brainwashed and gone. Sure, Haine was a bag of zombie dicks most of the time, but he usually came through (eventually) when Badou ran out of places to run. Usually. Badou was seriously going to kick him in the balls the next time they saw each other. Maybe it would jog his memory while his healing factor kicked in. If not, well, Haine wasn't using that anyway and Badou would feel a whole lot better.

He flopped down across from a guy who looked way too old to be playing with construction paper, and picked up his own sheet to viciously attack it with scissors that didn't work. "...Are these even supposed to be scissors? I think the paper will break them."

[notaleaf.livejournal.com]

Wash glanced up, half-expecting to find himself face to face with a jammed paper shredder given all that crinkling noise. But he'd been around Jayne far too much to be bothered by someone who looked a little on edge. A lot on edge.

"Well, they look like scissors," he said. "But they don't seem to function like them. I think there's a trick, where you have to hold everything at just the right angle."

Hm. Was that true? Maybe he really could calculate out the precise angle. Like piloting a ship. He peered at the items in his hands for a moment, intrigued by this possibility, before looking back at his table-mate.

"I'm Wash."

[strayfag]

Cutting paper to release any residual aggression wasn't going to work out well if he had to figure out the exact angle of paper-to-scissors and divide it by pi or what the hell ever. He'd managed to sort of...maim his sheet by accident, but the only cuts in it came from where the paper had been torn.

So much for becoming an artist.

"Wash?" He raised his eyebrows, but meeting someone named Allelujah that morning pretty much trumped everything. "I'm Badou." He replied, looking up properly. "...Ok, I don't know the rocket science to use these. Help."

[notaleaf.livejournal.com]

Sometimes he got that reaction from his name, but in the end, it was always, always better than introducing himself as Hoban.

Wash blinked, somehow not expecting the request for help to...cut paper. This was a strange situation. Everything kept getting odder and odder here and considering the whacky stuff that'd happened back home, that was saying a lot. So all that was left was for him to play along, because why not? No harm done.

He looked at the mangled sheet of paper, appearing half-thoughtful. "You know, actually, if you complete that shape, you could use it as an ink blot test in an innovative paper format."

[strayfag]

Well, it sounded like he wasn't going to get any help with his horrible paper cutting delima. Wash did have a point though. If someone could make something coherent out of the shape he'd managed to create they couldn't be sane on any level.

Even if Wash was just making fun of him, Badou rolled his eyes and tried to shrug off his pissy mood. Having objects-that-should-be-sharp in his hand didn't help, so he gave up on the scissors and went about tearing the paper into little pieces instead, just to leave a mess for some unfortunate soul to clean up.

"That's pretty cruel. What if I was trying to make a heart?" Badou asked, hopefully with enough sarcasm to prove he wasn't trying to do that at all. "What're you making anyway?"

[hangenki.livejournal.com]

[Kami-Sama Kami-Sama Chinkle-Hoy!]

Kaoru wandered into the Arts and Crafts Room. He'd had a nap in the SUn Room last shift, woken up to eat a few snacks and now he was bored. He took a few moments to decide on Games or Art, but Art won out. If only because he couldn't see his brother.

He grabbed some pencils and paper and sat by himself, designing an outfit for that Misa girl that might cause a few nosebleeds. It was something to do and...it was turning out to be quite fun. Just very lonely.

[totallytheseme.livejournal.com]

Hikaru didn't actually move when the shift change. He just watched as the nurse came and got Danny Boy and carted him off to parts unknown. How come he got called by his real name, but they didn't? It wasn't fair.

Speaking of they...

He grinned when he saw that his brother had ended up in here too. Excellent. "There's a guy here who's been at the Institute for a whole week but still didn't know that they call us fake names here," he told Kaoru as he sat down. "They already call him by his real name. How lame is that?"

[hangenki.livejournal.com]

Kaoru smiled to his brother and put the pencils down. The smile faded, of course, with this outrageous news.

"That's bullshit!" he huffed. "What is he, a special case or something?"

Kaoru sighed and picked up a coloured pencil, shading in a part of the very short skirted nurse's outfit.

"Thought I'd come up with uniforms for Tamaki," he grinned. Obviously these weren't the ones that'd get made. Just the ones that'd make Tamaki react. If only Haruhi was here. They could joke about dressing her up in one (or seriously try). It just wasn't going to work with Ed. About 39% of their Tamaki teasing was lost now.

[justice-to-a-t.livejournal.com]

For whatever reason, whether if be because of his mild outburst or an ulterior motive of some fashion, Mikami was once again denied the choice in where he was being escorted to. He was in a noticeably sour mood when marched into the Arts and Crafts room by the orderlies and nurse, and quiet due to the unusually hectic pattern of angry and confused thoughts rushing through his head like a tide in fast-forward.

What was this institute trying to prove? Younger than he should be or not, he had met Light, Kira, in person just a few hours previously. What would trying to tell him his god was dead do? If Kira was killed, no, likely martyred, what would it mean if it came true in his own world (and what sort of plan would be behind an event of that kind)? Was Landel's just trying to bother him with the knowledge that they knew his past and of his mother? That the comment that Kira might have failed would bother him?

He wouldn't admit it to himself, but it had worked.

As almost a second thought, the magazine he had held onto from the lobby was extracted from his grip, and he was left standing by one of the exceedingly ugly tables. Of course, they continued to linger nearby, likely keeping an eye out should he or anyone else provide any... excitement.

After a moment, his eyes slid to the teenage boys occupying the table he'd been left near. For a brief moment, he eyed them suspiciously, thinking that he was seeing double, then realized blandly that the two were twins. Had be been any less distracted, he might have taken the time to be irritated at the thought of trying to tell them apart without the power of the Shinigami Eyes.

[totallytheseme.livejournal.com]

"I guess." Hikaru shrugged. "I mean, what's so special about him, anyway? He just seemed like a normal kid. Why does he get to keep his name, and we don't?" He ranted in this vein for a while before quieting down and studying his brother's work. It was pretty good. Kaoru had definitely inherited their mother's gift for fashion design. "Milord won't be too happy about that," he said, grinning. "I think his brain might explode if we got Ed into that, but I don't think he'd let us after his little French lesson. Boring."

Hikaru never stopped talking, never gave any indication that he'd noticed the religious fanatic man standing near them, but his hand squeezed Kaoru's arm, just a little bit. His voice dropped to a hiss he knew only his brother could hear, lips not moving. "We're being watched. Wonder what his problem is."

Well, only one way to find out.

"Hey," the Host called to their would-be stalker. "I know we're stunning specimens of humanity and all, but it isn't polite to stare."

[vladville.livejournal.com]

[Free]

He'd protested a bit, but the nurse had said he really needed to do more outgoing things, and not hide in the library every time he got the chance. Vlad liked the library just fine and they supposedly had a choice, so he saw no reason for her to start unsubtly implying that he needed to move, but he also didn't like the library enough to kick up dust and perhaps get sedated over it. Instead he'd stood and been given his choice of where to go next.

Arts and crafts was chosen primarily because he was fairly sure he had never been there before, and the nurse seemed to think she'd done her good deed of the day as Vlad widened his views. Stopping short of offering him macaroni and surfaces to glue it to, she'd placed him at a table. As Vlad looked over the supplies himself, he had to admit at least they were varied, if not mind-bendingly fascinating. Perhaps not that much worse than reading idly in the library. After shifting a few words on a magnetic poetry board to read "trap in orange cat" and deciding that poetry was not his interest anyway, especially when he had to hunt down the words from a collection, he'd picked up some green clay instead and hoped it wouldn't stain his hands.

Sitting at a table, at first he'd resolved 'Brick of Children's Molding Clay' was just a postmodern masterpiece as it was, but boredom began to sink in and he started to mold it idly. He was halfway through before he realized, to his surprise, he was molding Skulker's real body out of the clay. Feeling awkward and somehow almost guilty about it, Vlad glanced around, but no one he knew was watching. It'd just look like a stumpy, semi-humanoid headless form if they saw it. In short, a sculpting failure from someone who was not a sculptor using low quality materials. Nothing strange about that.

Add a little glitter and it was a perfect example of how dull his day was, today. The piece was renamed 'Man of Shining Ennui.' Surely worth preservation in some museum.

[missedfortunes.livejournal.com]

Kaiji hadn't even wanted to leave his room this morning, let alone spend his 'free time' in the afternoon out and around other people. Why couldn't he just mope in peace? Right, it was bad for him, he needed to do something therapeutic, if he kept himself all locked up he wouldn't 'get better' and that meant that he wouldn't get to go 'home,' wherever they thought that was. Why was he so unhappy, anyway? That was something that he couldn't acceptably explain to any of the nurses, so they probably just looked at him as some shy, frightened little creature.

All little Kaiji, or Clemens, or whoever the hell they thought he was needed was a push in the right direction to make lots of nice friends and get all better and live happily ever after. Pleasant little fairy tales like that usually didn't start with a thug in a suit chloroforming someone in the back of a shady loan collector's car, Kaiji was pretty sure.

Still, maybe there was something or someone of interest out there for him. He had worked with the Arts and Crafts Club on his first night here, so maybe if he was lucky he might find Sora or MOMO if only to see if they were both alright. Instead of this ideal, as his nurse escort ushered him along he found only two familiar faces, both from last night and both seemingly preoccupied, and a handful of unfamiliar ones. There wasn't anyone there for him, but a nurse gently stopped him from wandering off to be on his own. "Why don't you try to make some new friends?" he was asked with a bit of firmness as he was guided to a table. The patient there seemed about as thrilled to be there as Kaiji was. At least they had one thing in common from the get-go.

"Hey," Kaiji announced dryly, "I guess we're friends now."

Why hadn't he told that woman off, again?

[vladville.livejournal.com]

Vlad glanced up from his 'work,' not terribly surprised to see another patient looking less than pleased with his location and another nurse bustling off appearing proud of herself. Still, Vlad offered back a faintly tilted smile, sitting up in his chair.

"I suppose it's preferable to the alternative, isn't it?" This was no one he'd met before, but it couldn't hurt to meet new people in this place, considering the ever-changing population. And almost any level of conversation would be better than more kindergarten-level crafts. Unless the man turned out to have the personality of Jack Fenton, perhaps the nurse had done Vlad a favor. "Well, let's start our new friendship off with introductions; it'd be rather hard to be friends without names, after all. I'm Vlad Masters, pleasure to meet you." That really remained to be seen, but there was something to be said for optimism.

[missedfortunes.livejournal.com]

Well, this guy was already ahead of at least one of the people who Kaiji had met here so far in that he hadn't tried to assault anyone yet, so he had that going for him. Despite that, Kaiji couldn't help but wonder just how far the stick up Vlad's ass was based solely on the way he talked and introduced himself. Did any real people actually speak that way? Kaiji gave the other man the benefit of the doubt for now and his fancy speech pattern was dismissed as little more than an attempt to leave a good first impression. Maybe once he realized that his companion wasn't really one to be formal unless intimidated or otherwise goaded into it, he'd fall in step and loosen up a bit himself. God, even his name sounded pretentious though.

The remark about 'the alternative' was met with nothing more than a shrug followed by a halfhearted and all-encompassing "I guess" for everything the other man said. Sure, it was good to have not-enemies, but Kaiji wasn't completely sure about friends in this kind of environment. From experience he knew that it could bring about a great deal of worry and even total heartbreak should the wrong thing happen.

At least Vlad realized the importance of names. That said something positive about him. "Kaiji," he answered simply, not even bothering with his last name. It wasn't like anyone ever used it.

"Um-" raising an eyebrow slightly, Kaiji finally noticed Vlad's sculpture on the table. It was the most immediate thing he saw other than its creator himself. And it was... Kinda creepy. It was sort of on the way to being person-shaped, but there was some vital stuff missing there. "You were working on that?" he asked, pointing with his good hand.

[vladville.livejournal.com]

His new companion didn't seem to be the outgoing type, or perhaps he was just in a poor mood today. That would fit the day's pattern so far; so was Vlad doing something to attract these people to him, or were the nurses out to get him by sending these people over, or was it some diabolical combination of the two? True, they were trapped in a horrible false mental institution with threats every night, surrounded by strangers who could be as dangerous as the monsters. But they could still keep their manners up.

Vlad nodded politely at Kaiji's name, folding his hands on the table. 'I guess' as a response to friendship was preferable to the day's start, with a surly young man who'd apparently had a plan of cheering himself by spooking Vlad of all people, so he resolved to interpret it as positively as possible. People tended to follow along if someone led a pace with enough positive energy, in Vlad's experience. Perhaps Kaiji would warm up a bit after they'd had some time together. If not, the Institute had enough patients, Vlad could afford to not be 'friends' with everyone and even lukewarm conversation would be an improvement over... well, doing nothing.

Vlad had been so distracted by the arrival of the other patient, he'd momentarily forgotten his little project, if it could be called that. Frowning down at the forlorn green headless figure, he sighed a bit. "Mmm... I don't know if 'working' is the word for it. I made it, but I might deny that if the evidence weren't already so clear." He chuckled a little at his own joke, although inwardly he was wincing at having made the thing in the first place. Well, there was nothing really condemning about it, was there? Merely an awkward shape and color. "There aren't too many options for entertainment here for those of us over the age of ten, and staring blankly at the wall wasn't appealing."

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

[waiting for Naminé. :<]

He had glitter. Someone had given him glitter.

In thirty minutes time, Nursey McNursingson would vow that he would never get his hands on the substance ever again.

It was a misconception to some that the Gambler was materialistic or greedy. Truth be told, Luxord cared little for the monetary value of items--it had little use to him as a Nobody and, when it came down to gambling, it only mattered if the opponent was hurt by the loss. No, Luxord was simply a magpie; if it were bright, colorful, or interesting enough (it didn't even have to be beautiful or anything of the sort. Just interesting), chances were good he would take it and find some pleasure in it.

Glitter? Happened to be three out of three in that criteria. It sparkled, was multicolored, and could be used to annoy, please, and injure people by simply tossing it into the air.

Needless to say, he was curious if anything else could be stolen of interest in the Arts and Crafts room, leading to the Nobody venturing there when given the chance.

Once inside, the blond promptly poured a little glitter out of the bag and into his palm, tossing the stuff behind his shoulder with a flourish. It seemed Nursey was of the 'not-amused' catagory.

[angels-inflight.livejournal.com]

That visit from Soma had left Naminé understandably shaken, and she was given a moment to recuperate in her room before the nurse asked her if she wanted to go to another room. She almost declined, but she was reminded of her promise to get materials for that good luck charm.

So Naminé asked to go to the Arts and Crafts room, still mulling over what she had seen. Soma... he was happier now, he said. But if he was to enjoy his new life here, he had to forget about her. She didn't want him to count on her to "snap" out of it, when Naminé wasn't sure if she could ever believe the lies presented to her in Landels.

She did always believe that Soma would have been happier living his own existence, independent from her. So it was strange that that thought left her feeling... well, she supposed she could say she was feeling sad.

When Naminé walked into the room, she hadn't been paying attention to where she was going, and thus blinked when she noticed that a shower of glitter had fallen on her clothes. Looking up, she smiled slightly when she saw the source. One of the very people she had wanted to see. It seemed that Naminé was running into a lot of familiar company today.

"Hello, Luxord."

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

Luxord had been overhearing a conservation nearby and was nearly about to join in (they mentioned gambling and games. He could hardly resist) before Naminé's voice came from behind him. The older Nobody turned and smiled down at the girl, reaching forward to ruffle her hair as he always did (and managing to get glitter in those blond strands in the process). "Good afternoon, peanut."

It had been quite a while since he'd talked to the girl, or at least it felt as such. He was tempted to pull her into a hug as if it would make up for the lost time, but he brushed off the urge and simply frowned. Even with her smile and lack of emotions, the Gambler simply knew her too well.

"Is something troubling you?"

[angels-inflight.livejournal.com]

Unlike how she usually did, Naminé didn't seem to notice her hair getting ruffled. It was this, and perhaps other cues, that tipped Luxord off to the fact that something was troubling her. It was then that Naminé actually smiled; she was never good at fooling Luxord. Then again, he was the master of poker faces, in her opinion.

"I saw Soma today," She started, knowing Luxord's disdain for the other boy. But he had asked, so she thought that he could at least know. "But it was... it was during the visitor shift. He gave in to their lies, so he's out now."

She paused, mulling over this unfortunate truth for a moment.

"But I also saw a friend of yours! Celes? She is a very kind woman."

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

So the Replica was released? It would have been a lie to say Luxord wasn't interested in the idea of leaving through those unconventional channels, but the expression on poor Naminé's face proved how against the idea she was. It was sad to think of it, really.

Maybe in another life they could be happy, even if it was a lie. They were family in this world, were they not? They could be happy, normal, human here. He could take care of her and they'd be happy. ...Now would not be the best of times to mention this, however. The thought was pushed away.

"Is this such a horrible fate?" he questioned as he took a seat, partially distracted by a side-table as glitter flew through the air and one of those twins (he remembered lying and telling one the other had died some nightshift ago. Perhaps they wouldn't notice him) screaming a 'happy birthday.'

Seriously, Landel's? Just... Landel's. Seriously.

The talk of Celes brought him back, though. He gave a smug grin at the mention of her being a 'friend.' "That she is. She'd not say anything of me, did she?"

[mitase.livejournal.com]

Hanatarou was proud of the fact that he seemed to have possibly made a new friend, or at least an acquaintance willing to tolerate his presence (which was generally good enough for him). It was, however, a little chilly outside on the field so he was willing to head back in when given the choice.

He hadn't entered any of the rooms off the Sun Room yet, and curiously peeked into each of them in turn, torn for a moment between the music room and the crafts room before finally settling on the latter. One of the other patients seemed to be enthusiastically playing with some glitter, so the shinigami very carefully avoided that part of the room lest an unfortunate sparkly incident occur, and found himself a quiet table to one side.

After gathering some supplies, he began very carefully making flowers out of pipe cleaners and tissue paper, the tip of his tongue sticking out as he concentrated. A cardboard base sat to one side, waiting to hold the flower arrangement when he was done. It wasn't anything resembling the monthly 4th Division ikebana showcase, but it was the closest he could come to home.

[waiting for a Rinali]

[boot-i-licious.livejournal.com]

Rinali hadn't seen much of Allen today, which made her a little sad. She worred about him, especially after the night he'd had. So she went and left a note for him. Nothing special, just letting him know she still planned on sticking by his side, and that she was worried about him. She paused briefly there, considering the last line before deciding to scribble it out. That accomplished, she wandered into the Arts and Crafts room to get a chance to relax.

There she saw another boy about her age, putting together what looked like a flower arrangement using some of the crafting materials given. She walked over and took a seat by him. "That's a very nice arrangement," she said with a smile. "Planning on making a gift for someone?"

[mitase.livejournal.com]

Although the arrangement had been coming together about as well as could be expected with the materials Hanatarou had to work with, as soon as someone started to pay attention to him that all ended.

At the sound of someone addressing him the shinigami started and gave a quiet yelp of surprise, dropping the "flower" he was holding so that it, in turn, knocked its fellows over in a domino effect. He blinked a couple of times, then glanced from the fallen flowers up to the newcomer and immediately blushed a little in embarrassment.

"No, it's...um. I w-was just. Well. Playing around. It's nothing." He pushed the flower pile to one side and picked up another pipe cleaner, twisting it nervously between his fingers. "Um. S-sorry. Hello."

[boot-i-licious.livejournal.com]

Rinali couldn't help but giggle at the mess Hanatarou made when she sat down. It was adorable how he stammered so suddenly and tried to discount what he'd done. "Well, it's still a very nice arrangement. Or was." She giggled a little more. "I'm sorry, that's very cruel of me to laugh. I didn't mean to startle you and ruin your art." She reached across the table and began setting the flowers back up, doing her best to arrange them the same way Hanatarou had. "Here, let me fix them."

She looked over at him and smiled. "Hi. I'm Rinali."

[sir-savien.livejournal.com]

Bored with the meager offerings of the Library, Kvothe decided that maybe he'd find something useful in the Arts and Crafts room. Something that would make working his Sympathy easier should he need to, having a physical focus could make all the difference. He glanced around at patients who are already there before quietly moving to rummage through the cabinets, taking note of anything that might help him out later. He wouldn't risk taking anything with the nurses around, but he'd try to get back later that night.

[free]