Day 41: Breakfast

[oftemptation.livejournal.com]

Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute.

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes, not sitting up just yet. He could tell already that his torso had been heavily bandaged, even more so than it had been the night before. The cuts on his arms were covered with fresh bandages, and the one on his cheek seemed to no longer be there at all.

Endrance had been expecting to wake up in a lot of pain, but even that seemed numbed. "They must have given me something," he murmured quietly, as he slowly sat up.

At that moment, his nurse came to get him, pushing a wheelchair along with her. "Peyton, dear, good morning. I've come to take you to breakfast, so..." He shook his head. "I'm fine. There's no need for that...I can walk perfectly well."

She sighed. Well, if he insisted, she wasn't going to stop him. She motioned for an orderly to take the chair away, and walked him to the cafeteria. Once they had gotten there, she pointed him toward a seat, then set a full tray of pancakes covered with syrup, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice in front of him. "Now eat all of that, Peyton, or else you won't be strong enough to keep walking like that."

He glared at her back as she walked away, then stopped suddenly. There was that faint pulse he'd felt the night before...it was exactly the same.

And so he completely ignored his food in favor of staring at the cafeteria doors, looking at every patient that came in.

[thread will be closed to Haseo. ♥]

Comments

[arc-wrench.livejournal.com]

Aaah, HK felt so good this refueling shift!

...Well, he was back to being a meatbag, and that was still a complete and total disappointment, but he'd been a droid for the night! He'd gone out and shot things! Oh, it was all he could do to keep a manic, insane grin off of his pliable meatbag faceplate.

He'd even gotten to use his flamethrower, too!

[free as a neurotic killer robot bird!]

[broken-exorcist.livejournal.com]

Allen was feeling pretty sore the next morning when the nurse woke him for breakfast. She claimed he'd had an accident, but it didn't explain the knife wounds on his chest and side, not to mention all the other bruises. He couldn't believe he'd failed! Maybe he could've won if Tyki hadn't had that knife, but there was no use arguing about it now. At least it gave him reason to check up on the Noah every night, just to make sure he wasn't hurting any of the humans here.

The nurse escorted him to the lunchline and he took ample helpings of everything he could get his hands on, heaping it all on his tray before she pushed him to a table. At least the other person sitting there seemed to be in a good mood, even if something was not quite right about them. There were so many patients who were possible Akuma he couldn't be at all sure anymore.

"Good morning," Allen said, trying to be at least a little cheerful despite his injuries. He took a seat across from the man. "I'm Allen Walker, what's your name?"

[iwhipthefool.livejournal.com]

[Free. Limit: any]

"Unhand me!" Struggle as she might, however, the dumb brute wouldn't do as he was told. He'd even been so precocious as to take her journal away. That was hers! Even if she didn't really want it, it had been in her desk and that meant it was her property. She'd have it back and have the orderly on his knees begging forgiveness for manhandling her before the journey was through! "I said, unhand me!"

Pulling her arm roughly away, Franziska whirled around and snapped the journal from the man's hands, giving him a particularly icy glare. "Try that again and you'll have nothing to look forward to next pay period," she threatened. The words didn't seem to affect him, however, and he left her near an empty table as Janice came over with a tray of decidedly unappetizing food.

"Do try to calm down, dear," Janice said, setting the tray down in front of Franziska. "It will take a bit to adjust, but I'm sure you'll do just fine here."

"I'll take the call from Germany the moment it comes in," was the prosecutor's only answer as she turned away, crossing her arms in front of her. This was not how the morning of her big case was supposed to go! She was supposed to be crushing some pathetic lawyer, not playing around with this sorry excuse for a clinic. Huffing, Franziska sat down, setting her journal on the table. At least she'd have a call soon and then she could get this whole mess cleared up and the appropriate people sacked for this horrible mistake. Someone would have to explain to her how she got from Germany to America overnight without her knowledge. And that someone had better hope they had a hide of iron to protect him from the beating that was coming.

[silent-shades.livejournal.com]

Rude had had a quietly (apart from the explosive bit) productive night. He had a section of his hand nicely plastered up as a result, but the fact that there had been results made up for it. Tonight he was gonna blow Reno's door down.

Anyway, he grabbed breakfast and went to find a quiet seat but the nurse kept pulling him along in another direction, an orderly close behind. They put him next to some angry looking chick and smiled.

Apparently she was knew. And pissed off. And needed a breakfast buddy who could handle a few potential hits. Great.

What the hell made them think Rude was competent enough to deal with the new kids? Sure he could take the goddamn beating, but he didn't want to. And like hell was he gonna be able to explain this shit to her. He have her a nod and stood up, but the Orderly doubled back and he sat down with a barely restrained sigh. Maybe Reno would come bail him out....

For now... Rude looked her over. Kinda cute in the snobby, pretentious, average cup size sorta way. Probably a complete bitch...

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

[Free for threading. Limit: 3]

Luxord was incredibly displeased to find himself alone in the morning.

Be it no fault of the god's, X was the one who was designated to sneak off into the night and did not much enjoy having the tables turned in that regard. Not because any concepts of shame or attachment or such things as that, but damn it, he had been perfectly comfortable. He had been warm, comfortable, and just sleepy enough to act as though he were truly happy, and then came dear Mr. Landel to muck it up as usual.

Dash it all.

Not that the morning could possibly ruin such a wonderful night. The Gambler cast a cursory glance to the lone woman staring at the doors (or perhaps it was somehow a man, you could never be sure here) when led in by McNursingson, then taking a seat at the opposite end of the cafeteria. He was in a pleasant enough mood, really. It just seemed that every instance he acted upon it brought him woe. He was hardly going to bother.

[oil-connoisseur.livejournal.com]

How does Luxord feel about evil dictators and pancakes?

By the time Megatron had followed the woman through sterile corridors of the so-called ‘Landel’s Institute’, his processors had come online and he was utterly furious. It had taken him quite a few steps to get used to the altered weight placement from his usual form, and now he walked with his back straight and his head held high with a calm disdain. The woman had certainly noticed and frowned at him, before ordering him to stay ‘put’ after they had entered a large, echoing chamber. He was too exhausted to do anything different, staring out over the wash of humans.

Megatron had looked up at the ceiling, searching for even the most basic of security camera equipment, and, of course, if there was anything of interest it had been well hidden. If Megatron really had been placed in a simulation, the humans he was looking out at were nothing more than bits of code, shifting through his processor. If the Quintessons really had managed to transfer his processor into a human body… well, he certainly couldn’t be the only one.

…they would have needed a few test-runs, first.

The female returned after a time, carrying a fuel container covered in… oh, for Spark’s sake, she had pancakes. A certain irritating professor had always had ‘quite the sweet tooth’, as Sumdac had put it, and Megatron had seen all kinds of sticky tree sap stuck to all sorts of schematics, tools – even Megatron’s helm, when Sumdac had forgotten to clean off his hands. The woman took no notice of his disgust, handed him his plate, and roughly pushed him in the direction of a slouched, male human.

“Enjoy your breakfast, Walter.”

Megatron sneered in response. Walter?

Humans were utterly illogical in their designations, and in comparison, Cybertronians ‘names’ were simple, straightforward references of description and status. Humans seemed to need a gender designation, a Mr or Ms (barring the fact that it was blindingly obvious to anyone with basic observational capabilities), not to mention a name to identify them as an individual. In a direct contradiction to that desired individuality, they also seemed to need a designation of secondary value to link to a family unit in order to feel apart of a whole.

…it was utterly beyond Megatron how the race had even figured out how to breed.

Still. ‘Walter’ was apparently the primary designation. ‘Hamilton’ the secondary. Not a puzzle of great complication.

The spot where Megatron had been coaxed to settle was near a tall, disgruntled human who looked as pleased as Megatron felt. Were the damnable Quintessons so utterly bored that they wanted to see how a Cybertronian would take to conversing with a human? Simulation or no, Megatron had interacted with enough of the damn apes to know it wasn’t exactly a science.

He was Megatron, the former Lord High Protector of Cybertron, and Supreme Leader of the Decepticons.

If the Quintessons wanted a fight, so be it. Megatron wouldn’t show them weakness. This was a war he could certainly win.

[tartaros-avatar.livejournal.com]

Last night had been quite productive, by the standards he was reduced to in this place. Recluse took a tray of food and sat in a corner of the still mostly deserted dining hall, taking out his journal and jotting down some coded notes in his thin, spidery handwriting, eyes on the doors to the hall, watching any who filtered into the room. He did try to catalog who was here, after all. It wouldn't do to ever be surprised by anything in this prison.

[Who wants some premium evil overlord? Limit: any]

[haplesstracker.livejournal.com]

Syrup! First good thing to happen to him since nightfall. Scourge took as many pancakes and pieces of fruit as he dared, and snagged nearly a cupful of syrup when the food guard wasn't looking.

Still couldn't get a fix on Kon--he really wanted to talk to him about playing nice with Blitzwing, but if he was too obvious about it Blitzwing would know something was up. Maybe he could find him at lunch, or whatever happened next shift. He'd heard something about showers...oh dear, they were going to get naked, weren't they?

Keeping a watch out for both Kon and his bosses, Scourge casually walked into the tabled area and sat down at random, barely looking at who was next to him.

[traitors-smile.livejournal.com]

Another night passed with very little progress. However, the announcement mentioned there would be new patients this morning, which meant that at least the day would be somewhat entertaining. He hid away his things, wondering idly if the same creature he'd seen last night would be up that same way again if they tried it. That key had to go somewhere, but if they eliminated all the obvious possibilities, what else would there be?

Gin followed his nurse when she arrived and when they reached the cafeteria, he picked up a tray and got in line, moving through relatively quickly since there were only a few people up just yet. It gave him the chance to sit where he liked, with a nice view of the door and relatively few seats behind him, in case someone decided to stab him in the back with a plastic fork of one of those annoying ball point pens.

[Reserved for Kenpachi]

[noneedforsanity.livejournal.com]

Kenpachi did his best to shrug off the drugs that had been injected into his system, but even still the room felt a little fuzzy as he entered the cafeteria. The nurse escorted him to the cafeteria line and instructed him to play nice or he'd get a second helping of whatever they had injected him with. Whatever, it didn't matter. It just meant he'd have to figure out a way to fight one of them when they didn't have those damn needles on them.

The food looked weird, definitely different from the standard noodle meals that he usually ate, but whatever. Food was food, and at least there was enough of it to sate his appetite. He piled his plate high with the eggs and the weird brown things, then grabbed some of the meaty-smelling things for good measure. The salad went ignored.

Once through the line he glanced around at the others like him, dressed in that ridiculous garb with that obnoxious smiley face. Most of them didn't seem terribly happy here, but worse than that they all seemed so damn complacent about the situation. He was going to have to stir up some trouble sooner or later or he'd really be bored out of his mind.

His eyes stopped at a nearby man with silver hair. A man he hadn't expected to see again except perhaps on the field of battle. A man whose bankai he had never seen in spite of his lofty position as former captain of the 3rd division. He wasn't sure if he should be excited or displeased at seeing the snake here. He strode towards the man's table and forcefully dropped his tray onto the table across from him.

"Ichimaru Gin," Kenpachi said, a slight grin on his face.

[see-my-back.livejournal.com]

Night was over before they'd gotten anything done except for that code for the bulletin. She stared with half-lidded eyes at the ceiling for a few minutes before forcing herself to get out of bed and hide her various weapons before the nurse arrived.

It was still difficult to completely put aside what she'd learned last night, but as more time passed, it became easier. She would just be a little more volatile than usual for a while. The urge to punch the first thing that annoyed her was far from gone, at least.

She picked up her tray without comment and found a seat. Not many people were here yet and for the moment, she didn't mind some time to herself.

[ Free for threading. Limit: any]

[bored-todeath.livejournal.com]

Ryuk had had the room to himself. He'd figured he knew boredom pretty damn well, but apparently not. He thought he was going to go mad. Actually mad. Stark raving lunatic. Homicidal maniac. Wait, the last one... well, it wasn't TRUE true. Just... whatever.

Point was, his foot hurt and he was scared of Winchester his roommate was missing, so he decided to stay in. And he got bored. He ended up doodling in his journal. He never knew how artistic he was. Or wasn't. It was all opinion anyway, right?

Knowing the drill by now, the cruel, painful drill, Ryuk tried to ignore the apples and let the bitch behind the counter fill his plate with whatever. A brief warning from his nurse about how he had to eat (but NOT apples) and she left him with some pink haired little girl with a Japanese name.

"What you look so miserable about?" he huffed. How dare anyone pretend THEY had problems when he wasn't allowed a goddamn apple. That and the fact that he was seeing less and less of the people from home these days. That was no fun.

[high-prosecutor.livejournal.com]

Edgeworth had half-expected Renamon to still be by his side when he woke that morning, and it was almost a relief to be back in his own bed. He breathed out a long sigh. Morning meant that she would have been attended to by the true medical staff, and those injuries treated. He made a mental note to check on her that day if he could, then sat up in bed.

He was immediately hit by a loud noise and a single, sharp bolt of pain in his head, one that almost forced him to lie back down from the shock of it all. Are you back in this place, Manfred von Karma? If not, then...who? He didn't have time to think about it long, before his nurse came in. "Good morning, Mr. Pierce. Are you feeling all right?"

He nodded at her, and silently followed her to the cafeteria, making a plate with pancakes and fruit and sitting at a table that was relatively far away from the rest of the patient population. He looked up only to scan the cafeteria for Phoenix now and then, failing to notice what should have been a very familiar head of hair thanks to a serious case of tunnel vision. It worried him that he hadn't showed last night, and he would feel a lot better knowing that he was safe and sound.

[thread closed to Phoenix.]

[pleading-ngri.livejournal.com]

This wouldn't have been better if Maya was here, Phoenix told himself, when he caught himself getting homesick in the food line yet again. Her ability to perform otherworldly feats extended to a positively supernatural ability to land herself in the worst kinds of trouble. His stomach did maneuvers he really didn't approve of when he imagined what sort of things could happen to her here, where there were people whose intentions toward him he couldn't discern, along with, possibly, one person still lurking and actively plotting his demise. It was better if she wasn't here.

Great, now I just feel selfish for missing her. Thinking about her was almost a distraction from thinking of Godot, though, which was something he didn't want to do until he was in a better mood. When he'd agreed to a chat, he hadn't thought he'd been signing on for a full night of smashing his head against a brick wall of insults and circular logic. It wouldn't have been so bad, if a stubborn optimist streak in him didn't keep insisting that there had to be a way to make this work, that the man wasn't entirely immune to reason, that there might still be a way to make an ally of him (and he realized only too well how much he needed allies, right now).

I have to let this go. All of it. It's not helping. He spotted Edgeworth and headed for the empty spot beside him, lifting his chin in a nod when the man's occasional scan of the room came back around to him. "Morning," he greeted, and though the bad mood didn't entirely dissipate, it was a whole lot easier to smile for Miles than it had been to do so for his nurse.

[full-score.livejournal.com]

They hadn't made it to the basement.

With a frustrated groan, Claude slid out of bed and began hiding his things. His leg was nice and bandaged now, and the affects from the poison were completely gone, but the bitter taste of defeat wasn't something that was so easily brushed aside. Granted, their situation could have been a hell of a lot worse, but it still pissed him off that he hadn't even been given the chance to properly fight back. Not only that, but he'd pretty much been reduced to dead weight for a good portion of the night. How embarrassing!

Well, there wasn't much for him to do except move on, he supposed. Still, he was fairly reserved once his nurse showed up and began leading him to the cafeteria. She'd asked if he'd needed a crutch, but he declined the offer. His leg was pretty tender, but as long as he was gentle with it, it was probably fine.

Frowning to himself, the blond grabbed a tray and stepped in line. The fresh aroma of pancakes was pretty enticing, and his stomach gave a quiet growl.

[First post reserved for Sync. Limit: 3 total, so 1 extra? Someone random please feel free to crash their conversation at some point!!]

[godforsaken]

He didn't get to go to the basement.

Of course, Sync couldn't say he expected much once he saw the fight going on in the sun room. While he wasn't able to catch a majority of it, he could only assume his plans were pretty much ruined once the trio ducked into a nearby room. The God-General wondered if he should even keep pursuing this, but in the end he figured that there wasn't really anything else he could do.

Given that he didn't really bring anything with him last night, Sync was free to lie in bed while he waited for his nurse arrive. Of course, he didn't have to wait long, and in practically no time he was being led down the halls to the cafeteria.

At first the teen didn't really pay attention as he walked over to the line, but it didn't take long for him to notice a familiar head of blond standing only a few feet away. Already Sync stepped out of his spot in the line, casually walking over to Claude before sliding effortlessly into the space in front of him.

"Thanks for saving me a spot Claude," Sync began as he looked over his shoulder and smiled. "I really appreciate it."

[fourtharcana.livejournal.com]

Oh shit, shit, shit. We're all going to die because we weren't expecting that goddamn bear to still be alive, and what the hell is going on with the Evoker not working? Akihiko closed his eyes, trying to think of a plan...

...and as if nothing at all had happened, found himself sitting bolt-upright in bed back in the Institute as if nothing at all had happened. He very nearly fell back onto the pillow in shock, surprise, and a very strong sense of relief. His heart was racing despite that, though. The call had been way too close for his liking.

Wait. Where was -- he felt under his pillow for a minute, and breathed another sigh of relief. The Evoker was safely under his pillow next to his flashlight.

He took a few moments to still his breathing, trying not to wake his sleeping roommate. A moment later, his nurse came in, whispering in hushed tones. "Did you have a nightmare, Andrew? Well, don't worry. You're perfectly safe here and have nothing to worry about."

Akihiko simply nodded and followed her along to the cafeteria, filling his tray in silence and then almost collapsing into a chair.

[first post reserved for Ururu; I'm fine with a third jumping in, though would prefer it be someone that knows at least one of them.]

[bewarethecute.livejournal.com]

Ururu didn't have any time to react to Ken suddenly falling; just as she was about to yell, or to drop everything to try and catch him, the night ended, and Ururu was back in her bed. The girl didn't exactly realize what had happened at first. She sat up, very confused, especially when she saw she still had Ken's flashlight and spear. Once she did understand, Ururu was at least a little glad that she had kept her promise.

She just hoped Ken hadn't been hurt.

Ururu didn't think the nurse would like seeing her with such a large weapon, so she made sure to hide both the flashlight and the spear carefully before the woman came in. Then she followed the nurse like always, and soon was left with a full tray and no place to sit. Prompting the girl to again follow, the nurse led her to an older boy. He wasn't exactly Ururu's age, but he wasn't Kisuke-san's age either. That must have been good enough for the nurse, who soon left the girl alone with the stranger.

"Um. Hello." Ururu bowed, tray still in her hands, then looked up at this new person. "Do you mind if I sit here, Mister?"

[2cute2bkira.livejournal.com]

Misa sighed as she was led to the cafeteria. She didn't recognize anyone there - none of her friends, no Ryuga, and most importantly, no Light. She was close to tears as she settled into a seat, an American-styled breakfast of pancakes in front of her. What was this place? Why was she being called Miranda?

...where was Light? She scanned the faces in front of her. Names came to her eyes - a Leslie Tickle there, an oddly familiar-looking Bob Loveday there, a very angry-looking Wilhelmina von Richter there, a Courtney Marsh and Thomas Appleby, Peyton Reynolds, Thomas Pierce...and they all had numbers under their names. She didn't exactly know what they meant, but the fact that they were there at all...

She bit her lower lip anxiously, again twirling her hair around her finger worriedly. This wasn't good. Not at all.

[first post reserved for Matsuda! If someone else that knew Misa before wants to jump in after a few posts, feel free.]

[showtime-matsu.livejournal.com]

Somehow, Matsuda had slept through the night for the second time in a row. It was safer, maybe, but it wasn't really a good thing to do. It made him feel like he was just letting everyone else do everything for him. Not that finding out anything new, and keeping an eye on Mikami, would be any easier without most everyone, but he had to make his contribution. This time, for sure, he'd get something done.

Starting right after breakfast, of course. The cafeteria was still just filling up when he got there, and he spotted a familiar face rather easily. A familiar face that he'd heard about, but hadn't seen yet; she hadn't answered when he'd asked for her on the board, either. She was really okay? That was a huge relief.

Matsuda hurried through the line, not paying too much attention to what he picked up, then went to go take a seat across from her. "Misa-Misa!?" he asked, incredulously. "It's good to see you're alright! I'd heard you were here, but I thought something had happened to you."

[kindalikedit]

[Pulling a time warp - will come in after Sam's done with his business with Lelouch]

Dean Winchester woke up. Really woke up.

Okay, more like woke up feeling like shit, his head pounding. But he woke up as himself.

Even if he didn't know it.

All he could remember was going to sleep last night, mostly to avoid having to talk with Angel and clear up how things went with the "Emily twins", and then...Dean had no idea. Must've overslept, but you weren't supposed to wake up feeling even crappier than before. This wasn't just a case of sleeping in a bad position or on some run down bed (he'd had enough experience to know when it was that or something else). Dean lay there, eyes open in the dark as he cataloged everything that felt wrong. Head and face felt like they'd been run through a meat grinder, breathing stiff like he'd been punched hard with something in the chest. Nose? He didn't think it was broken, but he did know what it felt like when you'd taken a hit smack in the face and that was pretty much was how it felt the morning after. Dean reached up to gingerly touch his face and that was when he made the discovery his hands were bandaged like a friggen mummy. The hell's going on? He'd been injured more than was probably healthy on jobs, but you'd think you'd wake up if you were getting attacked or something. Whatever happened to him, Dean had no memory of it. Just zonking out. Then morning.

Hello Nurse's explanation was crap, of course. She did hover closer when she swung by to pick him up from M2, gave him some weak painkillers - tempting as it was to take them, he instead just palmed them away - and escorted him to the cafeteria. Apparently the "official" explanation was he'd somehow gotten out of the room ("Eric Derringer" turned into a sleep walker, nice) and had a bit of an accident, whatever that was supposed to mean. Yeah, Dean didn't buy it. She apologized and Dean for a second thought she really meant it. Glancing at her with his good eye, he sized her up. Hello Nurse looked sincere enough. Maybe she didn't know what was going on. If she was lying, she was good.

What Dean wanted was a damn ice pack. A cold beer. Just a few hours to chill out in the back seat of his car with the radio cranked up and relax. Be nice not to wake up with mysterious injuries, that instinctive sense of wrong constantly crawling up his spine, and just hang with his brother. Put this insane number of hunts to the side for a change. Be normal (or as normal as they could get). But instead he found himself getting herded through the growing breakfast line with the other patients, trying not to drop the tray with his bandaged hands, and wondering what happened to him last night. It was almost like he'd gotten into a bar brawl or something. Whatever it was, it'd been a real number. Aside from feeling as if someone worked his face over and then hit him in the chest with a hammer, Dean just felt generally shitty. Obviously he hadn't even gotten a good night's sleep, either. Great.

"I'll get you some water," Hello Nurse said. "For your medication," she added, and Dean supposed maybe it wouldn't kill him to take one.

[kindalikedit]

The hunter, sneaking a glance at Hello Nurse's retreating back, hurriedly began to take a peak at his hand injuries. Didn't seem like he'd had anything broken, but if he had to wake up with his ass beat down for no good reason, then he was gonna find out just how bad he had it. Dean winced as he unwrapped some of the bandages on his right hand. It looked...well, okay, it could look worse, he guessed. Least no breaks. There were all kinds of weird cuts and abrasions, some of the skin on his fingers and palms rubbed raw and glistening in the cafeteria's overhead lights. Nevermind the split knuckles. Definitely seemed like he'd been in a fight - and fought back - but Dean couldn't remember a thing about last night. He re-wrapped the bandages before Hello Nurse came back with that glass of water.

Dean managed to beam at her, flashing his teeth in his best grin through the fresh bruises and bandages. "Thanks. I'm saved."

Hello Nurse's mouth thinned, but the corners lifted slightly. That, or he was imagining it, but Dean liked to think she wasn't anywhere as glacial as Doctor Kisugi.

"Take it easy for today, Mr. Derringer."

With that said, she took off. Dean was pretty sure she was into him. It wasn't so much what she said, but her body language, the way she kept leaning a little closer than a good professional should. Maybe the whole beat-up, bandaged up deal softened her up. Dean was willing to take one for the team, especially if it got them some intel, but right now he didn't feel up to it, fun as it probably would be. Right now he just focused on picking at his food, pushing breakfast around with a fork and annoyed to find that with the bandages in the way, his coordination with something as simple as a fork turned into crap. Like trying to pick things up with a glove made of putty. Every time he touched something it either hurt or he couldn't feel much of it through the bandages. Trying to eat wasn't much more fun either - it hurt to swallow too for some reason, and touching his neck, he wondered if he'd been choked or something last night. It definitely felt sore.

Dean put his fork down. He cradled his head in one heavily bandaged hand, closed his eyes and tried to focus, tried to remember. All he kept coming up with was a damn blank and a whole lot of new places saying they hurt that shouldn't have.

[Exclusively reserved for Sam Winchester]

[host-club-honey.livejournal.com]

Honey was kind of disappointed when he found himself right back in his room first thing in the morning. They hadn't made it very far at all before night ended. He really hoped they'd had better luck in the other group. Honey rolled sleepily out of bed and wrapped up what was left of the cake, picking the strawberries off before they went bad, then pushing the rest under his bed for later.

He took Usa-chan with him and sleepily followed the nurse to breakfast. She made a tray for him and found him a seat, but once again there were very few sweets to be had. Honey sighed and sipped at his juice. It was going to be a long day.

[Free for threading. Limit: any. May or may not be pounced by Mori sometime along the way.]

[madeinthehrl]

Before Soma could respond to Hinamori, she had found herself in her bed. It was as frustrating and sudden as it had been the last few times it had occurred; she hadn't even managed to see any more of the town! She'd seen enough to pique her interest, though. She knew perfectly well where she'd be headed tonight, provided the Arts and Crafts group allowed her. There was something wrong with those ruins, and she wanted to find out what.

She shoved her weapons under her bed (why were they still here? were they toying with her again?) just before the arrival of her nurse, who put up a cheerful stream of nonsense as they headed to the cafeteria. The woman left with yet another admonishment to make more friends, and left Soma to her own devices.

Taking a plate of pancakes and eggs, she took a seat near a boy who couldn't have looked older than fifteen and set her tray down. "Good morning."

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

In the short time since he had woken up, Kibitoshin had learned several things. The first of these was that he was not dreaming. The second of these was that he was in some kind of mental asylum.

The third of these was that there had been a terrible, terrible mistake.

The nurse who had found him was very kind, showing him around and explaining to him that he was here to get better. But he wasn’t insane, was he? A little highly strung, he could admit that, but… but not crazy! Hopefully the note (”http://community.livejournal.com/damned_bulletin/438560.html”) he’d left on the bulletin board would let whoever ran this place know that something wasn’t right. There was no point in panicking just yet. It was all just a big misunderstanding, right?

But… but what kind of power could spirit away a Kaioshin without him even realising?

“Here we go!” The nurse stopped him in front of the doors, gesturing into the room- a slowly filling cafeteria filled with good smells. It would have been almost comforting, had there not been a knot the size of a large fist in the pit of his stomach. “Just help yourself to whatever it is you want to eat. I’m sure some of the older patients will help you if you’re not sure.”

“Um… thank you.” Kibitoshin blinked at her a little uncertainly, at a loss for words. Then, realising that he was expected to actually make a move, he stumbled over to fill his tray and took a seat.

And then, as if lightning had struck, an idea took him. Why didn’t he just use his instantaneous movement? “Of course!” Snapping his fingers excitedly, he moved his index and middle fingers to his forehead and began to focus.

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

Well, that hadn't been a bad night at all. He could really get used to this.

Javert slung the filled pillowcase of drugs into the closet and put the rest of his things away, returning to his desk as usual when the nurse came in. A serious nod and a "Good morning" were more than enough to make her beam irritatingly at him as she led him out of the door.

One quick pause at the bulletin board to check up on the men he'd left in the experimental laboratory last night and on to the cafeteria. Javert filled his plate with pancakes, eggs, and bacon before he headed toward his usual spot near the door, only to be stopped unexpectedly by his nurse.

"You don't talk to enough people, Mr. Hunt!" she chirped. "You need to make friends here! Why don't you talk to Mr. Williams - he's new here, and I'm sure he'd love a friend!"

Disagreeing with her would ruin the 'polite gentleman' image he'd carefully built up for her over the weeks. Javert smiled slightly - though it came out as more of a grimace - and took a seat next to the man, who appeared to be putting his fingers to his forehead and concentrating.

"That won't work, you know," he said dryly as he put his tray down. "Whatever it is you're doing has no effect during the day."

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

Yuuhi woke, feeling achy all over. He wanted to roll over and sleep for a few more hours, but the nurse had other ideas. At least his legs had been wrapped, so they felt a little stiff when he walked, but it wasn't intolerable.

He followed her to the cafeteria and picked up a few things for his tray before sitting down. Ururu was already talking with one of the other patients, which was something of a relief. She seemed to be alright. No sign yet of Kurogane though. Had they managed to undo that spell?

[Free for threading. Limit: any]

[lastlovesong]

[Mind new daughter?]

She was just about to walk back into the institute when she suddenly found herself back in her room. Well, at least she managed to accomplish one of her goals last night. Her right shoulder was still covered in bandages, but the rest were gone.

Upon entering the cafeteria her nurse once again placed a tray into her hands, encouraging Chise to make more friends. Looking around, she walked over to the closest person.

"Um...I'm sorry but, is it alright if I sit here?"

[gentiana-clusii.livejournal.com]

The last thing Ken remembered before he'd passed out last night was the sharp pain as the mimic's fangs pierced skin, pressure as his blood was drawn out--and desperation. He'd been too close to unconsciousness to fight back, even if he could, the thing had already had its mouth on his neck--one short bite would be all that it needed to tear his throat out. He'd been paralyzed with fear, indecision. He was lucky to still be alive after that. (Or distinctly unlucky, dependent on how cynical he felt like being that day.)

He woke shaking, the vague memory something terrifying at the back of his mind. Jesus Christ, this place was really going to kill him. Or drive him absolutely crazy (again.) His injuries were cared for--shoulder again in a sling, and he could feel the pull of stitches in his skin, bandages wrapped snugly around his neck. There wasn't much they could do for the bruises spread across his back and the soreness from being thrown into the ground--twice--and because of them Ken was moving much slower than usual.

His breakfast obtained, since the nurse herding him wouldn't let him off without, even if he wasn't at all hungry (actually, the thought of food made him somewhat nauseous,) Ken glanced around the room. No one he knew was sitting, yet. Not that he knew that many people. There were indeed a few new faces scattered amongst the older populace, one of which was sitting there with two fingers to his forehead. Speaking of crazy...

He didn't feel like dealing with newbies this morning. Ken removed himself to one side of the cafeteria, falling into a seat and putting his tray to one side to rest his head against the table, on top of his crossed arms.

[Free as the wind blows. Limit: any.]

[guardiancomplex.livejournal.com]

[Man with a Guardian Complex? 83]

Touya awoke in his room, frowning a little at the ceiling. He'd missed talking to Yukito, and no doubt now Yue had returned with a vengeance. Well, hopefully Yuki would have a talk with him, and there wouldn't be any of this 'I haven't found a way out yet, so it's useless' bullshit.

His nurse babbled about how well-behaved he was as she escorted him to breakfast, and how if he kept up this behavior, he'd be out in no time. Cooperation was key! Touya found himself rolling his eyes.

Tray in hand, he began to scan the crowd for Yue. However, his gaze fell on someone else first.

"What happened?" Touya asked, rushing up to Ken, looking completely floored. "You were fine when we saw you last!"

[littlestrawdoll.livejournal.com]

_{[Free, no limits.]}

At the very least, there’d been more progress than the night before.

Still, the prospect of another long day awaiting him after a night that felt like it’d flashed by in a second didn’t exactly please him. But there were supposed to be showers for once. He’d take a shower shift over diddling around with tomato plants or listening to other prisoners smash instruments around in the music room. No offence to them and their music skills--there was a lot of aggression to work out, he knew. Whatever coping techniques worked.

As for him, well, he had a stomach that needed a little filling, and after that he could always jump into a few more conversations. Plenty of those going around. What came later could use some forethought, though. This whole flashlight business was starting to be more of a pain than it should’ve been--should he really just trade for one, or try for the janitor’s closet a third night in a row? Or there was always giving up, because even though he had the kind of existence he did and had no vital need to mind time, routines were boring. He tried not to parallel his past as much as possible, and it was a flashlight. Talk about focussing on the big picture. Three nights of going after an item he’d already proven he didn’t always need was a bit much.

Well, speaking of time, he had a whole day’s worth of it to consider his options.

Taking a seat at an open table where there were plenty of opportunities to sit with him if they wanted, he began to eat his pancakes. Okay, so it was a routine, but he liked to watch the door and note faces.

[fyeonly.livejournal.com]

The first thing Naomi did on entering the cafeteria was to pause and scan the crowds. She hadn't left her room yesterday, some sort of 24 hour bug had knocked her on her back. And how many people had disappeared in the time she was unconscious? How much had changed?

At least, to Naomi's relief, there were a handful of familiar faces that stood out to her. Matsuda, for one. Talking to the blond girl Naomi had once been shown, the girl who was involved in that mess from back home. Misa was her name, wasn't it?

Not that it looked like there was anyone left to ask....

Those were the only two faces from what she assumed was 'home' that she could see. And that wasn't a good sign. At a nudge from her nurse, Naomi forced herself to take some breakfast and find a seat. She spotted another familiar face, just not one from home. That didn't matter. Any port in a storm, as the old saying went. Much as she would have preferred to sit alone and try and work out a plan, old habits (and orders) died hard.

"Hi," she said, cordially enough as she sat across from Ren. Keep up normal appearances at all times. Don't let anyone know anything is wrong. Or at least, try not to. Naomi flashed a small smile. She could control her own mind and emotions, no matter what anyone said.

And if not, she could always lie.

[oldest-man.livejournal.com]

If Methos had been surprised on other mornings to wake up again in his bed with no real warning, it was nothing compared to his surprise as Friday morning dawned. He and Jones had only made it into the front hall, not even to the exit of the building; there was no way the night could possibly have ended so soon. Had they been on to something, he wondered, and been put down early because of it? It seemed a likely enough assumption, and more plausible than other fanciful possibilities springing to mind. He still couldn't remember how he'd been knocked out, though, and this fact grated on him no less than it had the previous three mornings.

He was uncommonly quiet as he was ushered into the cafeteria, allowing the nurse to prod him into the line for breakfast, and then abandon him in favor of more volatile charges once he'd loaded his tray with enough food to satisfy her. He took a seat at one of the less populated tables, not quite deeply enough lost in thought to be unaware of his surroundings.

[should-be-dead.livejournal.com]

[ooc; would you mind a ninja?]

Instead of being brought to a place that would somehow clarify what predicament he was in, the man and woman instead brought Tenzen into a room full with other people. Eating meals. They had brought him to an communal eating area. At the very least, the woman had not been lying about breakfast.

"Stay here, Mr. Hayami." Said woman ordered before heading off to what seemed to be the food-line, leaving the ninja standing near the doors he had just come through.

Was this some kind of joke? The ninja didn't know what was going on, but his amusement was decreasing rapidly. Not that he was ever amused with this situation to begin with. He was about to simply turn around, leave this room and locate the nearest exit, but the woman had returned with a plate of unfamiliar-looking food. The woman pushed the plate into his hands and ushered him to a seat across a lone man.

"Now behave and enjoy your breakfast, Mr. Hayami." she said, and disappeared among the other people before Tenzen could make any objections. These people weren't the slightest bit respectful, and the ninja couldn't remember when he had last been treated like some ignorant child. He gritted his teeth, obviously displeased.

And all this after he had been killed by some damned Kouga. This wasn't according to plan. Not at all.

Maybe this man could tell him more of the situation, even if anyone's words could be up for debate. Maybe this was indeed some kind of trick of Kouga, as impossible as it sounded.

He spared his food a brief glance, not even considering to try and eat. It was likely poisoned. Not that it'd permanently kill him, but that hardly meant he enjoyed the prospect of dying.

[ruthless-hunter.livejournal.com]

As usual, Lockdown kept silent as the nurse took him to breakfast. He had tried asking her why his vital fluid-stained coverings were completely clean when he woke up, though. To his chagrin, she had just smiled and remained silent.

The bounty hunter grabbed him some flat circular objects (pancakes?), bacon and what he assumed were 'scrambled eggs'. He observed the humans putting yellow stuff and some sort of clear, thick liquid on the pancakes, so he did likewise. After getting a glass of his usual orange juice, Lockdown parked himself at an empty table and, as usual, started his meal by taking tiny nibbles out of his bacon.

[Free, limit 1]

[roger-hug.livejournal.com]

(A bubbly bounty hunter okay?)

Bridget woke up in a fantastic mood, the bats he'd picked up last night at his side. Had to hide those before the nurse showed up....

The walk to breakfast was filled with his cheerful chatter, the nurse pleased to see Bridget so happy. He'd been upset lately.

Filling up his tray with lots of food, Bridget looked around for some friends, but his nurse began to herd him towards a stranger. "Here you go," she said.

Bridget smiled at the large man and sat down where the nurse indicated.

"Hello!"

[notmyfather.livejournal.com]

[For Keman!]

Valyn wasn't sure entirely what had happened over the last two days. He knew that a day or so had passed because the nurse that roused him had mentioned it. Something about being ill. He couldn't quite remember being ill - and elves didn't get sick anyway - but his room was different and time was strange and he was too tired to worry about it.

He didn't feel ill, but he did feel tired. He was rather certain nothing had been done to him, and he felt fine other than that. He supposed it was another odd quirk of this hellish place.

Ah well, it wasn't as though anything had changed drastically, at least from what he could tell. And he was starving, he realized, as he was escorted into the dining hall. He grabbed his breakfast, found an empty seat and sat down.

Hopefully a familiar face or two could assure him he hadn't lost too much time....

[adorkabledragon.livejournal.com]

Valyn didn't have long to wait. A familiar face slammed a tray down next to his loud enough to make the plates rattle and collapsed into the seat.

"Where in the name of fire and rain have you been?" Keman demanded, looking angry. "I haven't seen you in...days!" At least he thought it was days. Time was so strange in this place that he couldn't really tell. "I was beginning to think that you'd left me too. Bastard."

[feartehreaper.livejournal.com]

As Haseo was escorted through the institute, he became certain of one thing. He was not one of the crazier ones playing 'The World,' and therefore something was wrong with the explanation this overly-kind nurse was trying to provide. Her insistence on the name "Kai" didn't help, and even though the first few times he dismissed it, when he finally realized she was trying to apply it to him had finally shaken him free of his anxiety. His name was definitely Misaki Ryou in real life. Even if this woman was completely incompetent at kanji, there was little chance she'd be able to get something like that out of it. Even if she had only ever heard it aloud. To boot, his correction had pretty much been laughed off.

Now entering a large, bright room, he eyed the other people present with narrowed eyes, noting that they were all wearing the same grey uniform, and that most of them were accompanied by a nurse in the same fashion he was. Something was definitely off with him too. He felt weird. He was getting more irritated by the second.

It was then, glancing at another "patient" from the corner of his eye, that it clicked. The hair framing his face was most definitely the wrong color. Because he had woken up in bed and was clearly "real," it simply hadn't occurred to him that he might still be the "Terror of Death." That meant...

This was not a hospital. He was in his PC's body and therefore still in the game! Somehow. Haseo froze in his tracks, his disposition all at once alert. He abruptly twisted away from the nurse nearest to him, reaching back to draw a weapon- which one didn't matter as long as he was armed.

Nothing happened. A curse followed that would have curled the ears of a more conservative individual. Why did this kind of stuff keep happening to him?

One of the orderlies, a man noticeably taller than Haseo, moved closer even as the female nurse accompanying him affected an expression somewhere between alarm and pity. "Kai, calm down...!"

"What's going on? Who the hell are you?!" On the defense, Haseo backed away, before he bumped into the door frame leading into the cafeteria and was forced to stand his ground. He wasn't sure what to do, but if he had to fight every single person in the damn place with his bare hands, then so be it.

[oftemptation.livejournal.com]

Just as Endrance was about to turn away and chalk that weird feeling up to nothing, he heard a voice he'd recognize anywhere. He was out of his seat and running towards the doorway before anyone could stop him from doing so, the action more out of instinct than anything else. "Haseo!", he called out, ignoring how much that short sprint had actually hurt.

He looked the taller orderly square in the eye as he spoke. "There's no need for you to take any action right now," he said, once again speaking in that tone he reserved for particularly irritating people. "I'll explain everything..."

Endrance shifted his gaze to Haseo for a half-second, just long enough for a look that clearly meant 'calm down for now, if you can, because they will do bad things to you if you don't'. "It's just...a bit shocking to find oneself here unexpectedly," he said, turning to the nurse. "You understand, don't you? A flower that's suddenly plucked from its garden takes time to settle into the place where it's replanted. So...let me tend to this one?"

If that didn't work, he'd take whatever was coming for the both of them, but.

[forgot-my-life.livejournal.com]

Takaya scowled, but whatelse was new? This time though, the expression was less out of anger, and more thoughtful. They hadn't gone very far last night, but at least they had made it out of the room. Entering the cafeteria, he glanced around, spotting familiar faces, new faces, and wondered, not for the first time, when he would be one of those that didn't return after the night was over. Would anyone miss him? Probably not. He allowed the nurse to press him with food and usher him to a seat.

He just stared at his breakfast, trying not to allow depression to over take him again. He couldn't give Kagetora any excuse... A whole night without him, maybe he was getting better at control?

(Free; limit:open)

[fencing-captain.livejournal.com]

Apparently, she'd slept through the night. Juri woke up feeling rested but filthy. Weren't they ever going to be allowed to bathe in this stupid place? She noticed her roommate's side of the room seemed particularly clean and tidy. What's with that? she wondered as she stretched and ran her fingers through her hair.

By the time the nurse came, she'd looked through the other girl's desk. Empty. A set, sour expression on her face, Juri followed the nurse. She did not ask about her roommate. She didn't even know the girl's official name here. Since she didn't ask the woman questions, Juri learned she was going to get to shower today. Right after breakfast, in fact. Despite the nurse wanting her to eat more, she choose fruit and milk for breakfast and looked for a free seat. There was a grim and unhappy looking young man, looking to be close to her age, or at least like he might have gone to Ohtori if she pretended hard.

She set her tray down. "I hope you don't mind being interrupted." She sat in front of her tray and started cutting up her fruit with her knife and fork. So clumsy. "I'm Juri. As I understand it, breakfast usually works better if you eat it."

[tightsofmight]

[Reserved for cheer-up times with Kon, then later Cap/Daredevil? idk which one yet D:]

He was scrambling away, trying to break free of Norman's grasp, kicking and screaming and shoving so hard that he scarcely realized that the monster was gone. There was nothing but the sheets tangled around his legs, and the blank, clinical white ceiling above him.

Peter stilled. His heart kept on racing, and his breathing continued to hitch while he stared numbly at the roof.

Harry's gone.

A deafening cry shot through the room.

Peter rolled onto his side and drew his knees into his chest. He sobbed wordlessly, the tears coolly soaking his pillow as he dug into it with his fingers, the tight clutch narrowly ripping the fabric. He had failed. He was supposed to help Harry, to protect him, and he had fucking failed.

Now his friend was gone again, and it was his fault. Just like the last time, and the time before that, and before that. He slammed his fist into the mattress with a holler that tore his throat. He didn't make a sound after that.

It was some time before the nurse came collect him. Her words were little more than white noise to Peter, muttering something about 'same as Michael' and 'being overdramatic' as she extricated him from his bed and marched him down the hall.

She took some pity on him when they passed through the sun room and he tugged on her sleeve. Though her foot still tapped irritably as Peter struggled to write his message, she said nothing. The deep cuts on his arms stung as he worked the pen, forcing his letters to come out jagged and hasty. Peter posted the note regardless. He couldn't bring himself to write it again.

With that, he was finally deposited in the cafeteria with a full plate of pancakes. The smell was nauseating. The noise was nauseating. He wanted to crawl back into his room and hide in a corner, hide from every single person in this death camp they called an institute, and do nothing but cry. He just wanted to see Harry. He wanted to stop seeing the blood at his throat. He wanted his Aunt. He wanted MJ.

Trembling, he pushed his plate aside and buried his face in his hands. God, he wanted to go home...

[gottabetactile.livejournal.com]

[Thanks for the guilt trip there :<]

Kon yawned hugely, finally dragging himself back to the land of the living and out of the deep - almost to the point of being comatose, though that was nothing new - sleep he'd spent the night in. He was starving and- it was morning? Had he slept through the whole night?

"Awww, geez!" He hadn't realised he'd been that tired coming back to his room last night. He must've missed Kurt entirely. The guy had probably spent the night wandering around under a sheet again. And Bart. Hopefully Bart had met up with the maybe-OK (according to him anyway) version of the Flash and hadn't run head first into anything again. But he'd still wasted all night sleeping when he could've been doing something.

While he was irritated with losing his chance to do anything, Kon still smiled brightly at the nurse who came to fetch him, following her to the cafeteria like he couldn't remember the way. Yeah, it was a prison-experiment thing so he shouldn't expect to be allowed to run loose all the time but it would be a lot less annoying if she didn't talk to him like he was actually a two-year old - or acted like one, instead of being one and not acting it. Whatever.

After loading up a tray with pancakes and syrup, Kon wound his way around the tables, looking for company. He'd been after someone fun to talk to but it was impossible to miss the guy, about his age, sitting there like the world was ending and someone had shot his puppy. No way Superboy could just keep going and ignore someone who was so clearly upset over something.

Quietly placing his tray on the table, Kon took the seat beside the teenager, gently touching his shoulder. "Hey man, what happened?" No point asking if he was alright, that was just a stupid question when the answer was so obviously 'no'.

[kingside]

As predicted, Lelouch woke up that morning with his wounds properly taken care of and in a state of sheer exhaustion that rivaled the one he had experienced just the day before. Wonderful. How he was supposed to get through the meetings he'd planned for the day was beyond him, but as "feeling tired" wasn't nearly a good enough excuse to use to cancel them as it could have been when everyone else was in a similar state, he had to keep moving. The entire situation reminded him uncomfortably of the one hundred and eight dates Sayoko had set him up on in that respect, but as he'd brought this down upon himself...

Rubbing at his forehead and sighing loudly, Lelouch somehow managed to bring himself to sit up and pull aside the covers. The meeting with Kirijo was set to occur this shift, and as he hadn't given out his physical description to her, he'd need to be on the lookout. That would have been a lot easier to do if this hellhole served coffee in the morning, but he'd have to cope without... somehow. The fact that they were being served a sugar-infused breakfast would help, but as coffee would have done the job much faster-- he had to stop thinking about this.

He made sure everything he'd hidden away the night before was where he'd left it before picking up his journal and pen and waiting for his nurse to arrive. His crutches were missing, thank god, and after confirming with his nurse when she arrived that he was free of the accursed things, he allowed himself to be escorted to the cafeteria. With the news of new patients arriving at the institute, he'd need to be on the lookout for anyone from his world, too, and while he supposed that wouldn't be quite as bad when Suzaku would also have to be on the lookout, it was still an unwelcome distraction.

He let his gaze drift over the cafeteria regardless as he went to get his food, serving himself far more modest portions than his nurse had seen fit to give him and relishing the fact that she'd lost her excuse to harass him about it. He'd downplayed just how much his shoulders hurt to get out of letting her carry his tray for him (how perfectly ridiculous), and although he had to admit that he wasn't adjusting to the weight very well with his injuries, it was worth it. Insufferable woman.

There was no sign of Kirijo, however, and in the interests of getting off his feet (his leg still wasn't in the best shape, either) and setting down his tray, he found a place to sit and wait, his eyes on the entryway.

[Exclusively reserved for angry puppy Sammy and later Mitsuru.]

[boyking]

Adrenaline still running high, Sam awoke with a start. His hand flew to the side of his neck, expecting to feel the slip of blood beneath his fingers. Instead, there was a thin raised line, a few inches in length. A slip of the blade at most, though still deep enough to be visible and too close to hitting the jugular for comfort. No dried blood flaked away at his touch, either. Someone had obviously cleaned the cut. It and the gash near his side, he realized, when he felt the stitches pull as he propped himself up on one elbow. He had no idea who had done that, but his head was fuzzy and he felt like he had a massive hangover, but with more pain, and so it didn't seem worth it to question who had saved him the trouble of having to stitch himself back up.

He gingerly pushed himself to a sitting position, lifted his shirt up to eye the bandage. The novelty of close calls had worn off awhile ago, but even so, he was pretty damn lucky to get away with only a couple of flesh wounds considering his brother had tried to stab him and slit his throat. And it probably said something that such sentences no longer fazed him. Man, why were their lives so—

Dean. God. Yeah. He needed to find Dean. He needed to find Dean and he wanted to find Lelouch. Provided Dean hadn't already gotten there first. Assuming—shit, he'd been assuming that Dean would remember everything, but it occurred to him that it'd be an immensely stupid move for Lelouch to go around brainwashing people if they could simply come after him once they'd regained their senses. There had to be a reason why Lelouch wanted Sam dead, but didn't even bother with the same for Dean. Which meant Dean might've been given, what? A preemptive order that would wipe out his recollection of the incident? One that prevented him from remembering just who was responsible? That, or he'd still be under its influence. He was really hoping for the former, but it wasn't just wishful thinking that made him suspect that that was what had happened. He didn't remember either Andy or any of the psychics maintaining that permanent of a hold. The chances of it being possible were slim; he knew how much it could take out of a person to use those powers and his own were already giving him far more trouble than they should've in this place, for whatever reason.

Or hell, maybe he was trying to avoid considering the possibility that Dean would still be trapped. One more thing to take care of. There was too much crap going on and how was he supposed to prioritize anything anymore when all of it had to do with Dean in one way or another? Half the time, it was like a game of Six Degrees of Keeping Dean Winchester in One Piece.

Screw it. He'd find them both, get some answers one way or another. No point in sitting here worrying, even if getting on his feet was going to be...an issue. He didn't have to try bending his leg to know that his knee was a bit jacked. Of all the places Dean had to slam his foot into, Jesus. But staying put was hardly an option, so he shoved himself to his feet, anyway. The initial movement sent a jolt of pain through his leg, but the next steps were—okay, it wasn't better, exactly, but by the time his nurse poked her head in at last, Sam had managed to keep from limping too heavily. Best he'd get for now, all things considered.

[no-barbarian.livejournal.com]

Oh, what had he been on? Luckily the night had ended before things got any worse, but still...! He didn't even have the excuse of being drunk; it was just...sad. Was he really that desperate?

At least he had his file now, though at kind of a high price. Mortified and full of regrets, Teisel hauled himself out of bed and let the nurse herd him to the cafeteria. There was bacon again today, and he helped himself to several pieces along with a couple pancakes, leaving the quickly-cooling eggs alone. He'd learned his lesson about those wastes of plate space. He slumped into the nearest empty seat, gloomily nibbling a strip of bacon in the hope that it'd cheer him up a little.

...This problem was too large for bacon. Well, the admiral seemed like a pretty posh guy. People like that knew how to be discreet, right? They'd come to a sort of understanding, in private, and that's where it'd stay. In private. Even if he was regretting the whole mess now, it wasn't anything anyone else would know about, right? At least there was that...

[alwayscomesback.livejournal.com]

He hadn't gotten very far. Again. Maybe this really was some reoccurring nightmare that he was trapped in. He'd have to take the next night, if he was still stuck here, to see if he could break out of the cycle. Maybe that would wake him up.

Since he'd be trying that tonight, Sokka was going to be sure to stock up on a good helping of the bacon stuff before then. "Breakfast is he most important meal of the day," he told himself, cheerily piling the bacon on. The lady behind the food insisted on him getting more than jut meat, so with a little bit of eggs and pancakes also in tow, Sokka made is way to the closest table and had a seat.

[longlivetheking]

Tonight, aside from chit-chat and the butchering of already-decaying dogs, had gone absolutely nowhere. Morning came, Scar moved out of the bed he had no recollection of ever going into (as always) and was ushered to the cafeteria for breakfast. Somewhere along the way he noticed he was rather hungry, though he supposed that would pass as soon as he lay eyes upon his meal for this morning.

And this morning, they were having pancakes. Oh goody, he could identify a single meal.

With a bored sigh the King picked an empty seat and began attempting to eat his breakfast. He had been here for a while, but the basic act of consuming food still remained a hassle.

[free to anyone, limit: any]

[toxicspiderman]

His head was still pounding, his sinuses still felt like he'd shoved concrete up both nostrils in a misguided attempt to stop the madness, and the world was still spinning slightly around him instead of its axis. And his side felt like someone was stabbing him with something ineffectively blunt and metal.

S.T. reached down a hand and found he'd woken up cuddling his toolbox. Oops. At least he still had the thing. And a nurse, standing over him and clearing her throat. What the fuck?

He shifted, trying to cover for the added lump in the bed. "Aspirin?" he croaked, trying to sound pathetic. It wasn't hard. Hell, he was pathetic. Sick, exhausted, depressed. A royal flush in the shit sweepstakes.

Maybe Miss Chipper (everything but her nipples radiated perky) had some actual medical training, as she shut up, rested a hand on his brow, and then pressed two fingers to his throat. Then, without further ado, she chirped "Wait right here!" and swept out of the room. Thank fuck. S.T. detangled the toolbox from the sheets. The rolling pin was underneath it, and he used it to shove the box as far out of sight as he could reach before she returned with two cups.

He dry-swallowed the pills just to prove he could. Then he drank the water anyways. On the list of near-death experiences sorted by how much fun they were before you kicked it, dehydration wasn't even on the list.

Then he let her haul him out of bed and drag his lazy ass down to the Sun Room, where he hesitated. He hated talking to victims. If he'd wanted to deal with sick people he'd have been a doctor. There were rules about confidentiality, and he was kicking the shit out of them by posting anything. But until the concept of the Pony Express made it here, the bulletin was it.

He grabbed some food, and dropped his tray at the first empty seat he saw. Then he dropped his carcass in the corresponding chair and contemplated the extent to which pancakes might make good pillows.