Dayshift 42: Bus 2

[liveforthispart.livejournal.com]

Before anyone could come to any decisions for their next move, the room suddenly filled with a thick fog. Faster than he could realize what was happening, it had filled up the entire room and swallowed every single one of his friends. Then there was that undeniable stench of iron, blood and... he last remembered taking a step back and feeling that slippery skid and the realization of what that was. By the time he yelled, he was sitting straight up in his bed like he'd bolted awake. Like it'd been nothing more than a bad dream. ...What the hell just happened?!

"Oh! Good morning!" The nearby voice made him yelp with a half squeak-like noise. Oh, for hell's sake. It was one of those freaking nurses again. She was beaming at him like nothing had happened at all. Before he could so much as ask one question, the hag started blathering real fast about some field trip and buses and getting changed and hurrying up before everyone left without him and... OH MY GOD, WHAT WAS SHE DOING?! She was grabbing at his shirt like she was about to start helping him get dressed (or undressed in this case).

He flailed in a desperate attempt to get away from her and yelled his consent to go along if she would get out and let him change HIMSELF. What was the matter with her?! Thankfully, she left but told him to hurry. Hell if he knew what she'd do if he took too long. So for the sake of not getting freaking stripped, he quickly changed into the clothes she'd left on the bed. Clothes being the ugliest looking white-and-black track pants he'd ever seen and a bright blue sweatshirt with a cute little penguin design on the front. This was some kind of joke, right? ...Not to say the penguin wasn't cute or anything but there was no way, no way, he was wearing something like this in public.

But the nurse had burst right in again, and before Kanji could offer much protest, he was being pulled down the hallways and through the doors of the bus. He'd yelled some things her way, but she totally wasn't listening at all. By the time they stopped, he was standing at the front of the bus with a paper bag and the nurse had run off to cart another poor sap along. Frickin' PERFECT. For the sake of not standing up there like some kind of zoo animal for everyone to stare at, he plopped himself into one of the seats by the front and sighed in complete exasperation.

[Free. No limit.]

Comments

[hotbitterproof.livejournal.com]

[For Lady von Whippingberg, I believe?]

It hadn't been long after his conversation with Dahlia the day before that the headache that had rooted itself behind his eyes began to pound in a way that even Godot couldn't stand. Chalk it up to the frustration, the withdrawal, the company: whatever the ultimate cause, the prosecutor had soon after found himself in bed, under a high enough dose of medication that he'd slept through not only the rest of the day, but night as well. It wasn't something he was pleased to discover when the nurse shook him awake the next morning. About the only thing equally frustrating was that once again, there was no scent of bitter brew in the air.

The nurse thought he'd be more used to it by now. Godot thought her idiocy was laughable.

But there was a promise made in the woman's attempts to get him out of bed. Godot almost thought of it at a siren's song, but like a fool, he listened all the same. A restaurant in town that served his desired coffee, where Juan Valdez could happily enjoy as much as he wanted--but only if he got up and changed. A minor task when compared to Godot's desperation, and for the first time since he'd arrived, the prosecutor willingly got out of bed at an early hour.

It wasn't long after that he was lead to an empty bus, now wearing a white t-shirt and jeans. The day was still young, and the bus mostly barren, leaving Godot with his choice of seats. Opting for one near the window, the prosecutor waited with as much patience as a man hungry for his last supper. He was more than ready to be in Doyleton, now.

[OOC Note: What Godot thinks is a white t-shirt actually says "I'M A LITTLE TEAPOT" in big red letters on the front, with a little red teapot picture just below the text.]

[iwhipthefool.livejournal.com]

From a file room to her bedroom? What sort of farce was this?! Franziska woke for the second time, not knowing where she was and felt that momentary shock of panic run through her. Had she been kidnapped somewhere new? Was she in a worse prison than before? And why did she feel so ill? The sickness from being moved without her permission or was it that scene last night?

The plain white walls, lacking all traces of blood and decay, reassured her that she was still in the same place. For all that such reassurance was worth. Franziska climbed out of bed and scoffed, immediately retrieving her journal and a pen. This was simply unacceptable. Just as she was about to sit at her desk, the door opened and her nurse (her captor would be a more appropriate title) entered, smiling at her.

"Today is the trip to Doyleton, Wilhelmina. I brought you a change of cloth--" Franziska held up a hand, palm up and gave Janice a withering glare.

"Franziska. Give them here and leave until I call you." She wasn't about to change in front of a stranger and she would give no room for debate on the subject. The nurse sighed and nodded, handing her the clothes before she turned and left for the moment. Franziska dressed quickly. Even if she disapproved of the color choice (honestly, pink was his color), she did not mind the business suit very much. The skirt was longer than her usual one, but the suit jacket fit well enough and that was fine with her. But really, pink?

"Finished." The door opened and Franziska followed her nurse out, through the entry way (which was now just a normal room) and to the buses. Taking the pitiful brown bag she was offered, she had to wonder if this was what Scruffy's lunch was like. One look at the contents, however, said this was far above what his salary could probably afford. Franziska boarded the bus and sighed, starting down the aisle as she looked for an open seat.

Instead, what she found was someone who should have been locked behind bars, awaiting his punishment. The prosecutor came to a halt next to his seat, staring at the red and white atrocity he was wearing with both ire and amusement. He probably had no idea what he was wearing. Switching her journal and her brown bag to one hand, she crossed her arms, glaring down at him. "...You."

[141-12.livejournal.com]

[Waiting for someone.]

Waking up the second day was much like waking up the first day, in that one moment it seemed he'd been up and occupied, and in the next moment, he was in an unfamiliar bed with no memory of how he'd gotten there. Except, of course, the first day involved him waking up from a happy wedding, and the second day involved fog and blood and darkness. Was that how every night ended in this place? Where would you even get that much blood?

...On second thought, he wasn't going to question it.

Otacon was still shuddering as he slid into an empty seat, even though the old sweater and jeans they'd given him to wear were considerably warmer and more comfortable than the patient scrubs. He had his notebook with him, to help organize his observations of Landel's Institute, but didn't quite know where to start.

Time travel and anime characters and walls oozing with blood. Otacon looked through the bus window to the other patients getting ready to board, and wondered how much crazier things could get.

[prisonerofdeath.livejournal.com]

It took Fox a moment to recover from the disorientation of waking up in his bed. Particularly since it wasn't preceded by wandering around in the darkness of the institute. Yesterday seemed hazy, hard to remember. He vaguely recalled being taken back to his room because he had a fever. Had he slept until morning? Or had he forgotten last night?

Fox wasn't given long to brood over either option before he was dressed in unfamiliar clothing and ushered out to a bus. The jacket was just the right shade of olive green and had a very military cut to it, though it obviously wasn't a uniform jacket of any kind it was clearly patterned after that style.

As he made his way along the bus trying to get to the seats all the way in the back Fox was distracted by a familiar face. A familiar but different face. He changed plans and sat down immediately next to a man that had to be Otacon. Older than he'd been when Fox had seen him last, but definitely Otacon. "Otacon?" Fox asked, a little bit of disbelief in his voice.

[screwthegods]

[For Renamon]

Homura had kept to himself for the rest of the day, following his conversation with Okita. He'd even gone so far as to spend a night alone in their prison, perhaps the first since he'd arrived there. Though it went against his own instincts as a War God, it was also necessary time spent on overlooked tasks. He'd spent the night assessing the resources of his group, both in terms of manpower, and in possessions. There was still a lack of healing ability to consider, making basic medical supplies all the more important to them. Even if they managed to bring someone like Hanatarou into their fold (and that was questionable at best), that was one healer for three or four groups each night. In other words, not enough.

Regardless, the night had passed, if lacking a peaceful ending. Homura barely had time to consider the changes before he woke up, once again in a room that seemed untouched by the events from just moments before. The nurse came in with a different set of clothes for him, and once he was changed, the demi-god boarded one of the buses along with numerous other patients. He sat alone, though Homura doubted it'd be that way for long. There were still people he hadn't talked to who would no doubt find him, likely before the day's end.

[diamondstorm]

Renamon woke up drained. The aftereffects of the pain medicine wore on her, and the skin on her arm seemed to pull even tighter. The smallest movement now pulled, and freezing her limbs didn't seem to work. The Digimon frowned as she went about the business of replacing the items around her room--the only good thing coming of all of this was gaining the files of her friends. If good is what you really could call it. She now had confirmation that in addition to Orihime having disappeared, Toph and Toboe had as well. Something ached inside of her.

She had enough time to slip the files into her notebook to compare later when the nurse walked in. Renamon stared at her, memories of being forced into that ridiculous outfit filtering through her mind. Her lips thinned in the distaste. The nurse, seeming not to notice, smiled brightly. This, Renamon decided, was a bad sign.

It had gotten better from last time at least, the Digimon thought sardonically, walking out to the bus. At least it wasn't a blouse this time. Silently, she allowed herself to be led to a seat. Eying the occupant, she afforded herself a double-take. Unless she was mistaken, this would be the leader of the history club. This would indeed be her luck. Last week's events notwithstanding, Renamon bowed her head politely at her seat mate.

[moral-liberty.livejournal.com]

[For Kanji above!]

Kaworu's morning had been significantly smoother, but his clothes were also too plain to have merited much comment, let alone to have actually upset anyone. To him, there was little difference between the gray uniform and anything else that might possibly be presented to him. His general indifference towards his appearance, as well as a lack of perspective towards whether or not this morning ritual was unusual, made it so he barely registered the change.

The bus was much more noteworthy, if only for the general novelty of the situation. Kaworu looked up from inspecting the contents of his bag to scan the seats, and located the nearest one occupied by a passenger. Though there were still completely empty rows available elsewhere, Kaworu passed them in favor of sliding in next to Kanji.

Only after he was seated did he take a moment to observe the boy next to him. Every inch of him spelled out his tension. Kaworu just looked faintly curious, as well as much shorter and skinnier. He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, to get a better angle on Kanji's obviously displeased face.

"Why are you angry?" He asked, softly but without hesitation.

[liveforthispart.livejournal.com]

If there was one thing Kanji absolutely hated, it was being stared at. Or feeling like he was being stared at, anyway. He wasn't some sideshow for people to freaking look at. And most of the time, if people did it, they did it from a distance. There weren't too many people who would just decide to sit next to him when there was plenty of room elsewhere.

He probably would have been really pissed off if it hadn't been for the way this guy had spoken. He didn't sound like he was trying to pick a fight or anything. Still, Kanji looked at the kid dubiously for a moment before answering. Mostly cause he wasn't sure why he was asking such a dumb question.

"You kidding? What's there not to be pissed about?" he said bluntly. "We're nowhere near home, stuck with a bunch of morons who think we're nuts, and now we're bein' shoved off to who the hell knows where. ...I don't even know what's goin' on anymore!" Plus the fact that he woke up maybe ten minutes ago wasn't really helping. He was still kind of groggy.

[tartaros-avatar.livejournal.com]

Well, Landel had tried to end the night dramatically. It had just been annoying and messy, as far as Recluse was concerned. He'd had to snatch all his things up off the floor as a sudden puddle of blood appeared from nowhere just before he had found himself waking up on his bed.

His nurse gave him some old faded blue jeans, a worn out bomber jacket, and... an old police department t-shirt that was a size or two too tight for him. Wonderful. He accepted this without outward complaint, although his expression made it rather clear what he thought of what seemed to be a deliberate attempt at irony by someone, quietly following the (blasted, irritating) nurse out to the buses, directing him to an empty seat and giving him a bag of food, apologizing about the size of the seats.

Apologies would only do so much good for his knees. He couldn't fit into the seat, having to prop his knees up against the seat back in front of him, sighing irritably. There were some times that being tall and almost ridiculously muscular were an absolute hassle.

[Free!]

[dualistic]

While Harvey had managed to accomplish what he'd set out to do last night (which was more than could be said for the previous ones), he didn't get to do much more than that. Not too long after he'd left the closet, things had started to get weird-- the blood suddenly appearing out of nowhere and the choking fog would have unsettled the hell out of him if he hadn't been through an even worse hallucination previous to that.

He woke up confused, especially since this time he hadn't spotted anything that had caused the vision. On top of that, it had felt more real in a way he couldn't really put his finger on.

This place was really going to drive him nuts at this rate, but not in the way that it wanted to.

The man grumbled to himself, pawing angrily at his newly-applied bandages before he stumbled out of bed. He found the metal pipe and quickly stashed it away. The morning announcement reminded him of the trip they were apparently taking today. He'd heard it mentioned a few times over the bulletin and figured it should be more interesting that being carted around the institute all day.

Harvey couldn't complain too much about the change of clothes the nurse brought him (a denim jacket, black shirt, and pair of slacks) -- it wasn't what he normally wore, but it beat the uniform by a long shot. He would have preferred a suit, but that was only wishful thinking.

He took the sack lunch only because refusing it would have been pointless, but he still didn't plan on eating anything. He'd at least gotten some food down the night before, and he wasn't going to struggle to eat on a crowded bus.

At least he'd gotten that damn pipe. He'd need to get a hold of Jason at some point, though finding him while on this little field trip would be difficult.

On the other hand, it seemed fairly easy to track down certain people. As Harvey boarded one of the buses he spotted "Recluse" from the day before. The man looked slightly ridiculous in his new outfit, but that might also be partly due to the fact that Harvey was used to seeing everyone else in the same drab clothing.

Squeezing into the seat next to the man didn't seem like the best idea, but Harvey would probably prefer it to being stuck next to someone who was going to talk his ear off. "Think you can fit one more?" he asked, his one revealed eye scanning over the seat.

[mitase.livejournal.com]

The first thing on Hanatarou's mind when he woke up wasn't so much the strange situation they'd found themselves in at the end of the night, but rather the fact that he hadn't had the opportunity to apologize to Nataku. Maybe he'd be able to do that later. Hopefully.

But Hanatarou didn't have much time to worry before the nurse arrived - apparently it was time for the trip to the town again - and again, she'd brought him the same jacket (http://i59.photobucket.com/albums/g291/ragamuffinzx/Hoodies/P1010113.jpg) as last time to wear. It just reminded him of the last time he'd worn it, though, and the friends he'd spent time with who were now gone.

He dropped into an empty seat on the bus, almost automatically pulling the hood forward to hide his face before he started poking around inside the bag he'd been given. The same food as last time, too, it looked like. And this time he even knew how to use a juice box, even if he'd never had the chance to show Rukia before she disappeared.

Slouching even farther down into his seat, Hanatarou examined the muffin, poking at it without any semblance of appetite. Hopefully the day would be over quickly.

[for Okita?]

[notachick.livejournal.com]

Okita woke in a panic worse than anything he'd felt in a long time. It wasn't like him to lose his calm over something so simple as environmental changes, but last night? That had been nightmarish. Literally. Okita remembered another time when the fog was so thick he couldn't see in front of him, and he would never be able to forget the dreams that plagued him at all times. The blood that seeped in from all angles and soaked him through, tainting his skin, drowning him and smothering him with its smell.

Clutching his chest, he was sharply reminded that he was still in a great deal of pain and he winced when he realized he'd mistakenly used his right hand. His shoulder injury flared and his ribs protested, causing him to fall back against his bed. "...wonderful," he murmured to no one in particular.

"Yes, it is a wonderful day!" His nurse entered a moment later and Okita had to push aside his thoughts in exchange for putting on the happy mask the staff here reacted favorably to. He smiled at her and she smiled right back, handing him a set of clothes (a pair of loose jeans, a warm turtleneck and that same nondescript v-neck sweater they always gave him) before helping him change into them. Soon after, Okita was shown to the buses and given the usual brown bag for breakfast.

Climbing onto the demon machines, Okita kept his apprehension to himself - at least until he saw Homura. Letting his leader know that he'd disobeyed orders and gone out last night was possibly-- no, it was definitely the worst thing that could happen. Moving along, he tried to catch Homura's eye and smile at him like nothing was wrong, but Homura seemed rather busy. Okita kept going until he reached an open seat with what looked like a little green lizard boy sitting in it.

His smile widened and he leaned over as best he could, tapping the boy on the shoulder. "Good morning. Would you mind if I joined you?"

[ninelivesonce]

Metal screeched against metal, and the pipe came free in a rush of water and vapor. Taura threw her arm over her eyes, but it wasn't steam, only cold fog. The next thing she knew, she was on her back, one arm thrown over her face.

She was back in her bunk. Had they been gassed? But her lungs felt clear, and her mind alert -- true alertness, the kind no amount of synergine could restore. She hopped out of bed and ran through a series of stretches as the morning announcement rambled on. Everything seemed to be in top condition, if could lie to herself long enough to judge this new body.

When the nurses bustled in with two stacks of clothing for her and her roommate, though, the tenuous filaments of the lie snapped. She unfolded the shirt, smoothing an appreciative hand down soft, pink fabric, and what appeared to be real hand embroidery. Everything she wore had had to be customized, but hand stitching was a luxury she'd never been able to afford.

But no amount of admiration could disguise the fact that the shirt was tiny. Or that it fit with room to spare, even after she realized it was a dress, and that the second folded garment was a pair of thin white leggings, not pants. The sandals were beaded in orange to match the embroidery, and fit without needing extra room for claws. She wasn't sure how well she could run in them, but she supposed she could kick them off fairly easily.

She was still tugging at the hem of the dress and wondering if they'd forgotten part of her outfit as she got on the bus. Everyone else she saw seemed to have pants. Cultural taboos were important -- what was the height of fashion on Beta Colony could get you arrested for indecent exposure on Klein Station. No-one was pointing and gasping, though, so she gave the hem one final tug and slid into an empty seat.

[free, prefer just a 2-person thread]

[hajike-tobiume.livejournal.com]

[tiny, broken shinigami, ok? I'll try to keep her from getting emo on Taura.

Momo had not reached the ruins; the fog had prevented her with the sudden complete loss of visibility for her. She was oddly okay with this, because it meant that Kino was still alive. Had she gotten to the ruins, there was a chance something there could have killed Kino, making Momo a bringer of death even more than she already was. There was something to be said when the shinigami is grateful a night passed where she didn't hurt anyone other than herself. She didn't even hurt that patient on Special Counseling.

After hiding her sword and the vice captains badge, she changed into the black slacks and the red sweater her nurse had brought her. Accepting the brown paper bag, Momo took a seat on the bus next to a woman that looked less than thrilled with the choice of clothing she'd been given. It wasn't until the under five-foot tall shinigami was sitting that she noticed how tall the woman next to her was.

Turning toward her so she could fully see the woman, compensating for her deadened left eye, Momo offered a small smile. "I hope you don't mind me joining you. If so, I'll move, so don't feel obligated to tolerate my presence."

[never-learns.livejournal.com]

Yohji groaned as he woke up, rolling over and instantly regretting it as pain flared up his back from the burns. Shit. He was not going to be able to move comfortably for a while like this. Really. And what had happened there? There'd been the scent of blood and... fog?

The nurse bustled in before he could make much sense of it, carrying an armful of clothes and babbling about the trip. Oh great. That again. All he really wanted to do was go and find Schuldig to make sure that he really was alright. He couldn't quite stop the nagging feeling that something had gone terribly wrong and the telepath wouldn't be around.

The nurse herded him onto the bus before he managed to catch sight of Schuldig and Yohji sat down gingerly, wincing as the burns once again pulled.

[For Aya]

[briar-thorns.livejournal.com]

The morning found Aya no longer a skeptic.

The last thing he remember was slapping his hand down on the floor to try and push himself back up, only to cover it in the thick, coating warmth of what he could only come up with as blood by the smell that had suddenly assaulted his senses. He woke choking on imaginary blood instead of water, glaring blearily at his nurse who professed concern over his dreams.

His roommate wasn't in the other bed. Aya was in the middle of wondering if the other man was dead or not when his nurse shoved a bag in his face and told him to dress quickly so that he wouldn't be late to get on the bus. He was surprised they gave the patients something that bordered on normal clothing when taking them out, though in the worn jeans and oversized, black sweater he found himself at least moderately grateful not to have his chest smiling for the day. He would have felt better if they'd given back her earring.

Aya was ushered out and along, the nurse rambling on about talking to his doctor about those dreams and possibly getting medication. He ignored her.

To someone just watching him it was hard to tell if Aya was injured or not and the swordsman would keep it that way. When he got on the bus, Yohji's unfamiliar but unmistakable hair caught his attention. He thought he saw a telling flash of orange towards the rear of the vehicle but didn't pursue it. If Schuldig was nearby he hoped the telepath had enough sense to keep his distance.

"Yohji." Aya had seen that wince. He sat down next to his teammate, violet eyes questioning.

[host-club-honey.livejournal.com]

When the fog came in out of nowhere, Honey worried that they wouldn't be able to see their enemy attack, and when he felt the squishy nastiness of something underfoot that definitely wasn't just grass and dirt... and it hadn't rained today so...

He was clutching Usa-chan tightly when he woke up in his bed. Hika-chan had to be okay, right? And Takashi? They were all right next to each other and even if it was a robot, Honey would've recognized the sounds of a fight.

Still, the entire thing left him pretty shaken up when the nurse came in with a change of clothing in the morning. Most of it was too big, but at least they had a belt to keep the jeans up and even rolled the cuffs for him. There was a long sleeve black shirt and a blue hoodie with short sleeves to go over that. It definitely wasn't the height of fashion, but it would do for a commoners day out.

He'd try extra hard today to find a phone or a way out. There had to be something, right? He took his bagged breakfast and bounced onto the bus, carrying Usa-chan along with him. Maybe, at the very least, he'd be able to make some new friends.

[First post reserved for Tsubaki. Limit: 2]

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

Tsubaki didn’t complain when the nurse arrived with clothes and the same bag of items. The pants felt too tight and form-fitting, but that was just their style, the same with the shirt with sleeves ending midway down her forearms. Her chest felt too exposed. Her nurse, however, seemed proud of the top layer she presented next: a long, dark violet sweater with a flounce hem that gave the appearance of a dress, ending at the tops of her thighs and exposing the longer sleeves of the shirt underneath. It was feminine and probably a nice find, so the nurse had an excuse to be self-satisfied.

But it was hardly what Tsubaki cared about.

She would have happily stayed curled in bed, maybe to remember what real sleep felt like, maybe just to think. Thinking was about all she could do. The battle she'd been in the middle of only moments before was over, the night was over… and she didn’t have a say in it. She probably wouldn’t find out what had happened to Ben, or Ritsuka and his companions, or the people stuck behind those locked doors, not unless she bumped into them in town, and even then… It was over.

Another failed attempt. And these failures were far different from those she’d tallied up with Black☆Star’s ceaseless optimism.

She was dragging her feet over things she couldn’t yet change, and she knew it, but it was always an uphill battle to begin thinking positively in the light of day. It got harder every morning. And on that day, Tsubaki’s smiles and responses to her nurse felt so brittle, she was afraid the woman would see through them.

That, she could change.

When Tsubaki was led on to one of the buses just like before, she was making sure there were no chinks in her genial demeanour. She didn’t have simple answers for someone asking after what had her down, so she’d make sure there were no questions in the first place. It was something easy she could do, at least. And now that she was on the bus, she needed to find a seat--

A flash of pink caught her eye, and she looked again. Oh, Honey and his stuffed animal. She hadn’t forgotten the exchange on the bulletin board--in fact, her intentions hadn’t changed much, no matter what had happened the previous night. Even if plans had changed, she could still say hi. Which was exactly what she did. She approached with a little wave. “Hi. Good morning.” Or something like it.

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

Ugh... What a nightmare! According to Sechs, anything that involved losing or forfeiting a fight ranked high on his "bad dreams" list. Good thing it was just a nightmare... Right?

"Good morning Mr. Sasaki!"

The sugary voice roused Sechs from his uneasy slumber. He grumbled under his breath. "Ugh... Shut up Elf...or Zwölf... I can never tell the difference between you two..."

"Mr. Sasaki? It's time to wake up!"

Sechs' eyes snapped open to find a new face looking down at him. The perturbed Replica blinked at the stranger. She looked familiar... She had wavy hair that framed her round, pretty face. Her limpid eyes gazed down at him as she greeted the Replica with a cheerful smile.

"M-Misha...?" Sechs stuttered as he sat up against the headboard. Immediately he felt jolted by an all-too-familiar pain in his right arm. He looked down to find his wrist outfitted with a beige brace (http://morewristbraces.com/images/ELASTIC-WRIST-SPLINT-(Don-J.jpg), while bandages were wrapped around his forearm. He could feel more of the gauze covering his shoulder and chest.

"I'm not Misha! I'm your nurse for today! You and the other patients are going on a trip to Dolyeton! Wont that be fun?"

"Patients...? Dolyeton...?!" Sechs mumbled as his eyes comically widened. Oh no... So what happened last night wasn't a dream...!!

The nurse didn't notice the look of horror seeping into Sechs' face as she plopped a small pile of clothing onto his bed. "Here are some clothes for you to wear. You wouldn't want to go out in that drab uniform now, do you? I'll leave for a bit so you get changed."

Sechs stayed frozen on the spot as he watched the nurse leave. It was only when he felt something jab his lower back that he snapped out of his trance. Shifting away from the headboard, Sechs lifted his pillow to find a flashlight. Damn! If only he had it last night... Leaving the flashlight by his pillow, Sechs heaved himself out from his bed. He found a pair of jeans, a navy blue collar shirt and a black hoody to wear.

His unnerving predicament left Sechs so baffled that he changed into his assigned clothing without question. He found his jeans to be rather loose on him while he struggled for a moment to slip his injured arm through his shirt's sleeve. As he buttoned up his top, Sechs pondered over how he ended up like this.

He thought back to the strangers who had helped him last night. Fai and Subaru, right? Sechs couldn't remember what happened afterward. He must have passed out or something... He recalled that jackass Will, the terrible creature in the mirror and all the deranged amount of blood in the hallway... Such memories sent his gut twisting with disgust and humiliation.

"Are you ready Cody?" The nurse's sweet voice suddenly emerged from behind. Sechs warily turned around to face her. She still looked too much like Misha... At least this time she was cheerful, not hypnotized into slashing her throat. He didn't know how to feel about all this. "What?! That's not my name...!" Sechs blurted out.

The woman sadly shook her head, her wavy locks bobbed about. "You poor thing... You can talk about that with your therapist later. Now come with me please."

Stuck between bewilderment and aggravation, Sechs dumbly followed the woman. Once they were outside, the nurse stuffed a paper bag into Sechs' hands. "Here's your lunch bag for today. I'm sure your head will start to clear up a bit once you get some fresh air." Before she returned to the institute, she wagged a finger at the Replica. "Please remember to control that temper of yours. We'll be watching you!"

"My temper?!" Sechs retorted, but the nurse had already gone. With that Sechs hobbled into the bus, the lunch bag clutched in his left fist while he cradled his braced arm. For a moment Sechs nearly flew into an explosive rage, wanting nothing else but to destroy this sickening parody of his reality until he was back where he was supposed to be. Instead, he slouched over to an empty seat near the middle of the bus. Once he heavily sat down, Sechs wearily leaned his head against the window. He bore a disgruntled scowl as he shifted his eyes like a nervous predator.

[secret-orchard.livejournal.com]

The night had ended before TK was able to help the people being attacked by the monster, but Armand felt pleased that they'd been able to pass on their supplies to the healers. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to take the same job tomorrow night. With luck, which he admitted one seldom had here, the Clinic would be back in its normal place or at least somewhere that people knew about.

He deliberately turned his thoughts away from the strange events from the end of the night. If he kept quiet and didn't dwell on it, he could pretend it didn't happen. Perhaps when he caught up with TK-622 he could ask him if he'd seen it. Armand wanted to linger in bed. It felt comfortable just to lie there in the clean-smelling sheets, but he had to put his sword away and steal back his hair ribbon before the nurse arrived for the day.

He'd succeeded in setting the sword in the back of the closet, but his hair ribbon wasn't in the usual pocket of his jacket. He was searching more methodically when the door opened. Disappointed, Armand hurriedly closed the door and leaned back against it as the too exuberant nurse entered with a pile of clothes. She only brought a pair of blue denim trousers and a dark green t-shirt (http://www.tshirthell.com/funny-shirts/any-way-we-can-speed-this-up/). Armand hurriedly donned them before she tried to help him, then the woman took his arm, like a child, and led him out to the buses. He asked her where Morrison was, and she shook her head. He was given the little packed meal and herded into one of the buses.

Sadly, he didn't see his friend as he searched the faces. Sighing, Armand sat down next to a man who seemed intent on resting against the glass. He rested the bag on his lap and tried to braid his hair tightly enough to keep it out of his face for a few minutes. He couldn't tell anything about his seatmate other than he seemed young, had messy black hair, and was a complete stranger.

[fourtharcana.livejournal.com]

What the hell had happened last night? They'd made it out to the courtyard, and then all of a sudden...it had been like the Dark Hour, with that weird fog and the blood everywhere. Akihiko had honestly been expecting a huge Shadow to appear, with the way it was looking. He'd dropped into a fighting stance, waiting...

But he'd woken up in bed, with the claws he'd found tucked in a dresser drawer, and not a scratch or spot of blood on him. That was just...what the hell, really?

He didn't get long to think it over. His nurse came in a minute later, laying a pile (http://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/product.do?cid=11174&vid=1&pid=666714&scid=666714012) of (http://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/product.do?cid=5202&vid=1&pid=574141&scid=574141062) clothing (http://oldnavy.gap.com/browse/product.do?cid=47260&vid=1&pid=634838&scid=634838012) on his bed and telling him to hurry and get dressed, because he didn't want to miss the bus for the trip. "What trip?", he asked, but she was out the door before he got an answer.

Akihiko sighed. At least what he was wearing wasn't terrible - not what he'd wear back home, but decent. He tied on his sneakers and headed out towards the bus, sighing as he took his breakfast and settled into a seat.

[free for bothering.]

[windstwilight.livejournal.com]

That... had been rough. The girl's eyes opened widely, taking in the bare minimum of her room. Was Hokuto alright? Did Soma and Meche get away? What about--

Senna wasn't allowed much more than that, however, as the nurse came in with a smile and bundle of clothes. This was familiar. Too familiar. Senna frowned. "I hope you remembered that I hate pink." The outfit (http://www.magnifeco.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/02/foat-design-cotton-arm-warmer.jpg), true to the promise of last week, wasn't pink... Or really any other color. "We have got to discuss meeting halfway," the girl muttered, following the nurse out to the bus.

She hadn't seen Falis, or any of the girls from last night. Senna was hoping to see them on one of the buses, but the only one she saw close by was Momo, and she was already talking to someone. Instead Senna plopped down into a seat with a sigh, then winced. Shit. She felt like one giant bruise. She should, she guessed, after being shot into a wall, but... Hell, maybe she had worse than bruising. She frowned for a second, then lit up with a smile to face her seat mate. "Heya. How's it going?"

[dawn-rune.livejournal.com]

Pain was the first thing Frey was aware of when he woke. That his left arm was constricted--not only supported by a sling, but also wrapped tightly against his chest with a swath. But moving that arm wasn't a prospect Frey looked forward to, in any case, so he was grateful for the medical treatment. It took longer for him to get up than usual, as a result, so he almost didn't have time to hide his three-part staff before the nurse arrived with his clothes for the field trip.

Much to his embarrassment, Frey needed help getting dressed. He was able to get into the unpleasantly rough trousers by himself--the nurse called them 'jeans' when she returned at his call--but he managed to tangle himself hopelessly in the shirt and feared straining his broken arm if he tried to sort it out himself. So Frey reluctantly let the nurse get the heavy top settled over his bound arm, leaving the left sleeve empty. Getting his arm through the right sleeve was no problem, at least, and Frey took the brown paper bag of food from the nurse with that hand before following her to the buses.

[for Takaya, but go ahead and ask if you'd like to join them]

[forgot-my-life.livejournal.com]

Takaya woke up, frightened, angry, and really rather upset. He took the black clothing from the nurse with a snarl and once dressed and given the stupid paper sack, poked his head into each bus until he spotted Frey. Climbing into the second one, he walked down the aisle and sat down beside the long-haired boy.

"Hey."

[fear-attachment.livejournal.com]

Last night had ended on an extremely weird note. For a while after she woke, Chidori wasn't sure whether she had dreamed the blood pouring down the walls or whether it had been real. Once she dragged herself out of bed, though, and inspected the metal she and Junpei had gotten, she found that it was stained with blood. Neither of them had been injured, so the bleeding walls must have been real. How very, very strange.

Chidori hid the metal and her axe, just before the nurse entered the room with a bundle of clothing in her arms. It was good that they were getting real clothes to wear for the field trip, but Chidori was not at all happy with being given jeans, of all things. She was used to soft dresses, with a lot of room for her legs to move freely; at least the fabric of the pants they wore within the institute was also soft.

Worst of all, the jeans turned out to be quite form-fitting, as well. Now Chidori felt exposed and chafed. Meanwhile, the sweater she'd been given was a horrid bright pink that clashed with her hair, and much too big on her. The size, she liked. The colour... absolutely not. She gave the nurse an absolutely poisonous glare when the woman returned, blaming her for the horrible clothing.

Clutching her sketchbook to her chest to hide as much of the sweater as she could, Chidori reluctantly followed the nurse outside and onto a bus.

[free like bird!]

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

And then the next thing he knew the wall that he had been leaning against barely a minute before was leaking- no, bleeding- and then-

Kibitoshin woke with the drum of his own heartbeat and the rush of his own gasp ringing in his ears. Silence. W… was it over? Had the entire thing just been some kind of horrible, cruel nightmare? Was he back on Kaioshinkai?

Cautiously he lifted the blanket from his face. The room around him was white, stark and depressingly, depressingly familiar. Oh.

Not even the nurse’s enthusiasm when she came to wake him a few minutes later could get him to smile. She fluttered around him anxiously, pressing a hand to his forehead. “Don’t tell me you’re coming down with something! Especially after that nasty fall you had yesterday with that poor shoulder of yours.” She sighed deeply. “And on your first day out to town, too!”

“Day out? Town?!” Oh, no! Immediately, Kibitoshin’s mind flipped out of snooze and into panic mode. Trunks! He’d left him all on his own. How was he supposed to check up on him in a strange town, especially with his ki senses all out of whack?! And on top of that he really had to make sure Apollo and Dahlia were okay, and…

Dressed in an uncomfortably snug blue sweater and a wool coat (still not as smart as his Kaioshin uniform…), he found a seat near the front of the bus. Even if he couldn’t talk to them he might at least be able to see them come on from here. In fact, there was Franziska! Well, she looked a lot better now than she had last night- that was a load off of his mind. Relieved, Kibitoshin offered the pretty red-haired girl sitting next to the chosen seat a hopeful smile. “Excuse me? Is this seat taken?”

[should-be-dead.livejournal.com]

Tenzen wasn't quite certain what to make of the way the night had ended. One moment he had been scolding Brook, the next he was blinking at the sudden appearance of both fog and blood. Only to wake in his room all of a sudden. From the halls back into his cell again, as if he had never left it. As if he had been dreaming it, but the burns on his back proved him otherwise.

He still had not healed, either.

Nothing had been accomplished tonight, however. Aside from confirming the mad stories from the bulletin, perhaps. The ninja set up, but before he could do anything else the nurse arrived in his room, carrying a bunch of strange clothing. Apparently, he was to wear it. After changing into the unfamiliar clothing quickly he was herded outside towards -

- things that resembled the metal beast from tonight when he had first encountered it. Only bigger, and clearly yellow. Tenzen was about to demand an explanation before the nurse told him to go inside it.

First they make something similar attack him during the night, and now he was supposed to go inside it? The nurse noticed his hesitation, however: "Oh come on, Mr. Hayami. It's only a bus, it won't bite you."

He glared at her, but as he was forced into the large, metal thing he noticed that it actually was some sort of vehicle as opposed to a beast. With a scoff he sat down on one of the seats, which prompted the nurse to leave him to his own devices.

A trip, hmm? Tenzen had no idea what to expect, but perhaps it'd shed more light on the situation. Or at least tell him more of this institute's location.

[Free! Limit: any]

[wantsyourzex.livejournal.com]

Well, that had been a little unusual. Not the first time he'd seen blood appear in odd places here, but that didn't make it any less startling when it happened. What caused that? It did lend more credence to the theory that these were all hallucinations...

Well, if nothing else, at least he'd finally given his Captain his gift, although that did leave him without a convenient excuse to ask him to come to his room at night. ZEX was resourceful though; he'd find a new reason soon enough.

As it was, he wasn't entirely enthused to go on another trip into town. He still remembered what had happened the first time on the way back, and he wasn't looking forward to being forced into a situation like that again. Not that there was much he could do about it... he'd just have to keep his wits about him and adapt as things happened. Hopefully his Captain would likewise be alert, but who could say with him. He needed to find Fwiffo at some point...

Either way, ZEX got dressed and boarded the vehicle as directed. The thought crossed his mind about whether or not the clothes he was wearing had belonged to Max before he'd "taken him over", but he dismissed it. No sense in worrying about something with no answer for now, particularly when he had such a wide variety of humans here to occupy his interest.

This one looked intriguing. ZEX sat down beside him, attempting a smile without as much success as he would have liked. "I don't believe we've met, have we?"

[deadlynoble.livejournal.com]

[Reserved for Sebastian]

It had been strange waking up again in a bed that wasn't his own -not as strange as the first night but disconcerting enough that his heart had been pounding frantically in his chest and his back had been covered in a light sheet of sweat. Ciel doubted he'd go any nights around here without experiencing the same, recurring nightmares, being subjected to the constant jeering cast his way as iron bars bore down on him, reminding him his freedom had been snatched away. He thought of his mansion back home, of Her Highness, of Elizabeth, and of waking up to the sweet smell of raspberry ganache so early in the morning, and he wondered if he'd ever have anything so naive and simple as breakfast in bed again.

The pain in his arm had reminded him of his run-in with that irritating death god, who'd taken great pleasure in inciting momentary fear in him, something Ciel was reluctant to admit. But he'd been afraid -afraid that he wouldn't return to his world and that he would die such a pitiful death here. Were all the men who shared his family ring meant to have such a sorrowful end?

At the thought of the ring, Ciel glanced at his fingers, wriggling them slightly and remembering that, too, had been taken away from him. All of his personal possessions had been stripped upon arrival, leaving him as he was, without a proper identity. He recognized this tactic, something utilized to easily shatter his will and further allow himself to be manipulated into believing he was this Christian Porter. It was futile. Regardless of the ring's presence or not, he was Ciel Phantomhive.

And he would get it back at any costs and reinstate himself in his proper place. He would not allow fear to govern him in a place such as this, nor would he allow Grell to hold any sway over him. He wasn't powerless any more, not with Sebastian here and the contract still in power. He would have to utilize the demon to his best advantage and have him act as a shield, otherwise he would fall under the same threat again.

Gradually his heart rate had decreased the more he focused on Sebastian, thankful that he'd managed to follow him this far. If he hadn't been there... If he hadn't arrived at that moment ...there was no telling what could have happened. The arm wound was proof enough that he'd been helpless for those scant few seconds, a feeling he despised so thoroughly.

With the announcement that they were taking a field trip, Ciel had rushed out of bed even faster, mildly annoyed that he had to handle all the menial tasks of getting dressed and fixing his own bed himself. A part of him entertained the idea of calling Sebastian to do it, thinking the butler could easily slip away beneath the nurses' notice, but as long as he was here, he had to maintain his role as a patient to ward off any suspicion. That meant having to rely solely on his own capabilities while being monitored. He didn't necessarily appreciate it, but he recognized the necessity of it.

Once that had been taken care of, he finally headed towards the buses, his uncovered eye scanning the area for Sebastian. They hadn't had much time to discuss their situation the previous night, and it would be all the more difficult to find time to encounter him alone with too many watchful eyes following them around (including Grell Sutcliff's) but he just wanted that reassurance that he wasn't alone here -that Sebatian would keep his promise and stay by his side even here.

'Find me, Sebastian,' he thought to himself as he boarded the second bus, willing the contract to relay the message to wherever his butler was.

[blackestate.livejournal.com]

Reapers, Sebastian recalled as he opened his eyes, slept. The word "sleep," of course, was meant in the most clinical sort of sense; with the limited knowledge he had, it would do no good to assume whether death gods could dream, faint, "toss and turn," etc., the same way that humans did. After all, to lose consciousness to such a degree as to render the body completely and utterly helpless...why, in the context of a Hellish world, such an action was indirectly equivalent to suicide. When Sebastian had first been confronted with the sight of one "sleepy" and disgruntled William T. Spears, the very idea that death gods should have such a... human weakness both surprised and amused the butler; a demon would and could never be "caught dead" in those circumstances (no pun intended) without some physical cause or reason.

Which was why, when Sebastian Michaelis woke in his bed in M40, eyes open and mind clear but with no recollection of how he got there...

The butler narrowed his eyes, looking down at his hands and the (again) useless symbol staining the skin. The demonic senses he'd only just begun to enjoy again were once again absent, with only a faint pulsating of power that lurked so faintly within him that he had to focus to confirm its presence. It seemed irritation would be a common feeling for him here; annoyed, he would have to face again the dumb and cowlike face of his attending nurse, suffer again Grell Sutcliff's hair and pet names until he could fulfill at last his master's wish.......

...then again.

His master.


Armed with a smile and the distant air of a professional, Sebastian took no time at all in getting dressed and ready for their "trip." The Institute had been thoughtful enough to provide them with casual clothing for their outing, though there was nothing truly "casual" about Sebastian's outfit. Slacks, starched shirt, tie, and jacket...it was as if he were still in England, ready to wake his master with a selection of ganaches or (his own creation) breakfast fondue with raclette on toast. The look should soothe Master Ciel—he'd had a rather traumatic night, what with being left alone. Even this much normalcy should serve to please him.

No more games—no more risks. His weakened state now reminded Sebastian of the necessity of proper vigilance; he'd have to be properly attentive now, and there was much business he and Master Ciel needed to sort out. Distance made the heart grow fonder, yes, but isolation bred madness. And there was still so much plot to be had in London for Ciel Phantomhive to lose now.


Find me, Sebastian.

Sebastian.

The command was hardly thought of before the butler arrived at the bus as commanded. Hardly a minute more before he was at his master's side.

"Good morning, Master Ciel," Sebastian said, voice as pleasant and gentle as if this were a morning in the Phantomhive Mansion—as if nothing had changed at all. He bowed, low, stalling those waiting behind him to board the bus as he waited for his master's permission to sit and continue.

[2cute2bkira.livejournal.com]

What had that been last night? One minute, everyone was talking, and the next it was like something out of a horror movie. Misa thought she had screamed, but wasn't entirely sure. What she remembered was leaning back against the wall and feeling that warm, sticky feeling all over her.

The fact that she woke up in her own bed with no traces of the blood was, to be entirely honest, a huge relief. Misa breathed a long sigh of relief, flopping back against her pillow as she did.

"Miranda?" She was interrupted a moment later by a nurse bringing in a change of clothes. Well, that was nice! Misa decided she definitely approved of the top (http://www.bodyline.co.jp/bodyline/photos/g615-2.jpg), but could have done with a cute skirt to go with it instead of the skinny jeans she was given instead. Oh, well. One out of two wasn't bad. And hey, a trip outside wouldn't be so bad either. Maybe she could go get her nails done or something. That would be nice. She gave the people she knew a nod and a friendly smile, then took an empty seat and began nibbling at her muffin.

[free as a bird~]

[lossofface.livejournal.com]

[stop smiling, human!]

Blitzwing had half expected not to wake up at all -- he hadn't known it was possible to feel pain like that, and still live -- but apparently the universe wasn't about to start being kind to him now. At least he wasn't in quite so much pain; his entire left side hurt abominably, but not enough to make him start screaming again. Though he had a feeling any sudden moves would quickly change that...

He heard, rather than saw the nurse enter, though she moved quickly enough into his line of sight, a few of those monstrously huge orderlies trailing behind her.

"Good morning, Mr. Brandt!" she said, voice heavy with a concern that made Blitzwing grit his teeth almost as much as her continued insistence on calling him something that was not his name, slag it! "How are you feeling today?"

"My name is Blitzwing!" he tried to shout, in no mood to deal with her idiocy -- but his human mouth refused to cooperate with him, the words coming out slow and mumbled though he was sure he'd spoken clearly.

Of course; they must have drugged him. So now not only would he be forced to live in a disabled state, but they wouldn't even grant him the dignity of full awareness...

With a series of absolutely infuriating clucking noises, the nurse turned back to the two orderlies. On her orders, they lifted Blitzwing out of the bed -- he tried to struggle at first, but stopped after the first movement brought on a new wave of pain from somewhere in his midsection, forcing him to grit his teeth and close his eyes against another scream -- and began to remove his clothing. That would have brought on another round of struggling -- it awakened old, unpleasant memories, as if he didn't already have enough reminders of the last time he'd been seriously injured -- but fortunately the clothing was quickly replaced by what Blitzwing vaguely recognized as a pair of the baggy lower clothing humans called "sweat pants," followed by a t-shirt and a coat that seemed far too heavy for indoor wear. By the time they got that far, Blitzwing realized he should have been using this opportunity to check on his own injuries, but the nurse stopped him trying to lift the shirt again, babbling something about bandages and sutures.

Apparently repairs had been effected while he was still unconscious, or whatever happened during the shift between night and day. Blitzwing would bide his time and conduct an investigation later, regardless.

At least the coat was grey and purple...But Blitzwing refused to admit just how comforting wearing his own colors actually was.

And then he was placed in a wheeled chair, given a paper bag, and taken...ouside? He vaguely remembered some kind of mention of trips to a nearby town on the bulletin board, though it hadn't seemed important at the time. Why would he care about what lay outside the institute, when the means to recovering his true body clearly lay within? But at the moment, Blitzwing was actually rather pleased with the sudden change in routine. An entire town to hide in...surely, if he just kept his head down, he'd be able to avoid running into anyone who actually knew him? Facing Lugnut -- or worse, Megatron like this just didn't appeal, for some reason.

Being assisted onto the bus was an experience he didn't care to dwell on -- in fact, he kept his eyes closed for most of it, because the rocking motions of being nearly carried by one of the orderlies made him feel a little sick. And this from a former flier? He really hoped no one he knew would see him like this; it was humiliating!

Fortunately, the human female he was quickly seated next to was obviously someone Blitzwing had never seen before. Thank the Allspark. Now if only she'd keep her mouth shut, perhaps this trip might even turn out halfway bearable...

[k4t4str0ph4l.livejournal.com]

Well, yesterday had to win some sort of prize for being the most miserable experience of Schuldig's life. Between Farfarello's vanishing and Crawford's being taken for experimentation - to say nothing of his own chest being ripped open - he could hardly think of anything that could eclipse it(though he could find several incidents to at least match it).

And today they gave him a pink shirt. Someone, somewhere, was laughing, and Schuldig hoped they died.

Fashion crisis aside, he'd at least been given a dark trenchcoat to wear over the shirt, which mollified him somewhat. And he was fairly functional, save for being somewhat sore; Arty's healing had, quite literally, worked its magic. Of course, the scars were absolutely unsightly, but he was beginning to get used to the idea of his body being marred, even if he didn't like it. The cuts from Gilgamesh had left their marks already, after all, and visible scars notwithstanding, he certainly hadn't been in what anyone would consider mint condition for years.

If he'd been in any mood to tolerate Aya, he might've moved to sit with Yohji; instead, he settled himself in a window seat some distance from the assassin, leaning his head against the glass and closing his eyes. Maybe it was from all the blood he'd lost the night before, but he still wasn't quite feeling up to par.

[Waiting for Crawford to claim him~]

[aversionoftruth.livejournal.com]

Crawford had been given a dark shirt and slacks, and they matched his mood after the night's events. He ignored Weiss entirely on his way to Schuldig, and slid into the seat next to him, and stared straight ahead, quiet and humorless for a long moment.

Finally he turned to Schuldig and shot him a little bit of a smirk. "I hope you don't think this means I owe you," he said, more as a greeting than an actual indication that he was considering it. With most people that was how he thought, in favors granted and favors owed (to him), but with Schwarz it was different. He had to have Schuldig's back and Schuldig had to have his; that was necessary.

[whiny-egomaniac.livejournal.com]

Starscream was of two decidedly different minds this morning.

On the one hand, his leg was at last freed from that accursed plaster shell that had encased it these last few days. Granted, in the "real world" the injury he had foolishly inflicted upon himself would have required him to remain thus disabled for a few weeks at least, so to be liberated in the span of mere days should be a godsend. Problem was, when a Cybertronian was injured, he either went to the scrap heap or was quickly repaired by medibots; even blasting off his foot at the Battle of Autobot City required only hours of recuperating repairs. It's easy to see, therefore, that his time spent injured, helpless in the heavy plaster cast, was one of boring agony. Finding his leg free in the morning, however, he'd let out a shout of triumph, testing out the limb and finding its recovery to be more than satisfactory.

There's that pesky "other hand", however, and no sooner had he realized that he was free that he recalled the events of the night prior. Lockdown had told him he wanted to meet him in his quarters, so wait Starscream did.

Eight hours. Eight LONG, boring hours that could have been spent on anything BUT waiting: exploring the grounds, looking for a makeshift weapon, even investigating the compounds he'd acquired some nights previous to see if he could start synthesizing black powder...ANYTHING would have been preferable to the unending wrath that welled within as the astroseconds clicked onwards. Lockdown would pay, somehow...and now that he was better, physically, he hoped he could properly demonstrate how wrong it is to leave the almighty Starscream hanging like that.

The Decepticon quickly changed into the clothes placed on top of his dresser; just as the last time he visited the town, he was given a red t-shirt with a yellow design running down the middle, gray slacks, and light blue sneakers. There was something familiar with the clothing, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and for some reason he found himself wishing he had a pair of matching light-blue gloves to... "complete" the ensemble. No matter, he muttered quietly; I'd better keep my bearings in order, lest I become like these foolish flesh-creatures and their obsession with garments. Making his way to the row of buses, he chose the one that seemed the most empty, climbing aboard and quickly choosing a seat by one of the windows.

[revolutionise]

Utena woke up feeling intensely uneasy after the way the night had ended. So far, whenever the night had come to a close, it had always done so with a crackling announcement and a quick fade to black. This time, fog had rolled into the patient file room without warning, and Utena had nearly slipped on a floor suddenly slick with something that smelled too much like death and iron for her comfort. What exactly had happened? What was Landel getting at? Was it just supposed to scare them all? The fact that Landel hadn't been on the morning intercom hadn't sat well with her either.

After waking up, however, there were other things to worry about. According to her nurse, the lot of them were apparently going on some kind of field trip to the nearby town of Doyleton. Had something like this been mentioned on the boards before? Utena couldn't remember. Either way, she was actually somewhat keen to go somewhere outside the institute, even if it would be under the direct control of the institute's staff. Besides that, the last time Utena had gone on a field trip, it had been with her old school; Ohtori Academy wasn't really too keen on sending their students off-campus.

She didn't have much time to think about why they were being taken on the trip, however, before she came face to face with something that she knew right away would make her day just a little bit more intolerable. Sitting on her dresser was a set of clothes to wear on the trip, and the style made Utena positively cringe. She had been given some kind of light dress and hooded sweater combination done up in baby pink and white with a small white bow on the waistline. She asked her nurse who on Earth had picked the outfit for her, and the only answer she received was that it had been picked based on information in her patient file. Apparently, Yomi Takahashi had been a great lover of cute clothing before suffering her identity crisis. Fantastic, thought Utena, grudgingly changing into the hideously pink outfit. Then she smiled wryly to herself as another thought occurred to her. On the plus side, at least maybe it'll make Himemiya smile.

She didn't manage to spot Himemiya or Renamon on her way to the buses, unfortunately. As she was herded into a bus, she absently searched for an empty seat. Her mind was more focused on the end of the night and on trying not to feel embarrassed in her outfit. Thus, she wasn't particularly paying much attention to who she sat down with. Eventually, she slid into a seat next to a tall, dark-haired man and leaned over, propping her chin up in one hand. "Just doesn't make sense," she said to herself quietly, remembering the coldness of the fog and the smell of the dark liquid flowing onto the file room floor.

[feartehreaper.livejournal.com]

Considering that this time there was no inexplicable drop onto some hard surface, awakening turned out to be a painfully slow process for Haseo. As soon as it became obvious that he was back in the patient's room, in bed, he continued to lie there, only really moving enough to fling an arm over his eyes. Before then, he wouldn't have ever thought it possible to feel so tired and yet be conscious at the same time, and after pretty much experiencing the worst night ever in his opinion, he didn't really feel like doing anything else.

But the moment wasn't allowed to last, soon ruined by the same nurse and "escorts" from the day before, who though seemed to be sympathetic to his worn-out state, eventually berated him for something about a wild teenage lifestyle and how he'd have to become more used to a normal sleep schedule... delivered in the most sickly-sweet tone that ground on just about every nerve Haseo had. It was only because he was determined to find the others that he cooperated at all, pressured to change into some shirt (http://www.amazon.com/Three-Official-T-Shirt-Cotton-Sleeve/dp/B000NZW3IY/) with wolves on it (http://i39.tinypic.com/vry7ub.jpg), jeans, and a red and silver jacket. And yet once he got out to the front lawn (herded through the entry room, of course, though his mild hesitation only got him hustled along faster), he was disappointed to find he couldn't spot anyone he recognized.

So it was with immense reluctance that he loaded onto one of the buses, falling into an empty space and busying himself glaring vaguely at everyone else as he leaned on the seat in front of him. He was trying not to worry too much or over-think about what he had allowed to happen... or about the bizarre experience in the upside-down chapel that now seemed like more of a twisted nightmare than anything real....

[cannotlogout.livejournal.com]

Considering what the data drain had done to him, Tsukasa was justifiably confused to find himself waking up in bed in yet another room the next morning. No grass was anywhere to be seen. He groaned, head pounding and his body feeling sluggish and heavy, and he quickly decided that being awak was too much trouble, shoved his head beneath the pillow and tried to fall back to sleep.

Unfortunately, the nurses had other ideas. Oh, there was a nice trip planned was there? Oh, he wouldn't want to miss it, would he? And here were some nice clothes for him to wear for the day.

By the time Tsukasa got onto the bus, he was distinctly unhappy. The T-shirt (http://www.thinkgeek.com/images/products/zoom/i_void_warranties.jpg) that the nurse had given him to wear probably had something to do with that. Hah bloody hah. The person who ran this place was quite obviously laughing at them all and Tsukasa did not find the shirt funny at all.

He looked around himself uncertainly when he finally got onto the bus, spotting a familiar figure eventually and heading over in Haseo's direction. "Did you wake up somewhere strange too?"

[strayfag]

He was slightly creeped out by how much his clothing resembled his usual style; jeans, boots, and and that particular camo coat with the fuzzy crap around the hood. And, for once, Badou agreed with his shirt. They might even have some kind of heartfelt understanding. Last night had been kind of anti-climactic in just about every sense of the word. Cue blood, fog and ambiguously gay duo then suddenly the world was bright and shiny again. Just another day in the life. He couldn't say he was disappointed that the patient population looked relatively the same, but still. Come on.

He let himself be ushered onto the bus took up an empty seat that hadn't changed since the last trip, elbows and knees bent at awkward and uncomfortable angles. He should probably be pondering all of the shit that had changed but all he could think was that he suddenly really wanted to be at home in his own city in his own bed at assfuck in the morning. Whining at his own partner. Dealing with vaguely relevant shit. Getting some goddamn pussy.

...That last part had yet to happen with any frequency but he was on a roll. And he was reasonably certain Naoto was a woman. Maybe Haine too.

Badou rested his head against the window. For about the fifth time in as many minutes he really, really wished he had a smoke.

[For Chise]

[lastlovesong]

When she found herself back inside her room, she was grateful that the switch between night and day were instantaneous. Falling face first into the bloody ground and inhaling the scent of blood brought back memories of the war, especially the smell of rotting corpses. It was something she'll never forgot.

Chise was feeling uneasy and nervous when she boarded the bus, wearing a set of used-clothing her nurse picked out just for her. Fitted with the baggiest worn-out pair of jeans she'd ever seen and a size-too-big hoodie bearing a squirrel on the front, she felt as if she was drowning in a sea of cotton. The clothes were practically devouring her! Not only that, her jeans were too long and the rolled up the hems didn't make a difference; she nearly tripped about four times on the way to the buses. At least the squirrel was cute.

Slowly shuffling down the aisle with her breakfast-in-a-bag(and a package of pills) she tried to find a place to sit. At that moment, the bus suddenly lurched, launching the small girl into a seat occupied by a cramped object.

[number-crunch.livejournal.com]

[Free like avian lifeform!]

Angry and disgruntled, Sho flopped into his seat on the bus, his expression that of one who has come to realize that no answer to any real world problem will be an integer, in fact, they'll probably be an irrational number with a remainder and at best an estimate. Things had not gone as planned last night.

Material gathering had gone well, but before he had gotten a chance to make art, the night had ended! Just, out of nowhere, it was over and he woke up in bed! That sort of temporal jump was jarring to say the least. And that blood... no, there was no way a little hemoglobin on the floor could freak him out. It was just another bodily fluid; it's not like it had even done anything. It was just... very red and sticky and everywhere.

Seething more, Sho slouched down in the bus seat, angrily shoving a hand in his lunch bag and pulling out the muffin, which he began taking much too large bites out of. So upset was he, he didn't even notice that his clothes, a plain ensemble of a gray collared shirt and charcoal pants with plain white sneaks, would look rather familiar (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v348/Hiroshige/14.jpg) if he took a moment to consider them.

[bullygeneraleva.livejournal.com]

Evangeline usually found the sudden end to the nights an annoyance, but considering the unfortunate choice she'd made in company it couldn't be seen as anything but a reprieve. She was still sort of interested in Chise, but if taking measure of the girl required exposing herself to Kagura, Evangeline was much more inclined to just let the matter rest. In her own warped way the girl seemed to know something of war, so let her choose that fate if she wanted...

No, this morning she was pissed because they'd been given real clothes and hers consisted of jeans and frayed t-shirt with some incomprehensible logo, like she was supposed to be the littlest grunge rocker or some shit. She didn't even know they made clothes like this in her size... and didn't particularly care. She just knew that after hundreds of years and just as many complaints with the body of a child, she'd determined that it was good for at least two things: dismembering her enemies and hanging frilly dresses off of. And they'd put her in goddamned pants. She didn't do pants.

Fuming, she took a seat on a bus next to some idiot who looked liked he'd busted out of jail by eating a visiting youth minister and taking his clothes or something. He looked about as happy as she did, but empathy had never been her strong suit and she barely noticed, let alone cared.

"Close your mouth," she snapped... rather hypocritically, as it happened.

[brightlyshine.livejournal.com]

Well, the night ended with an abrupt interesting twist of sorts. Although Elena was happy to be able to say that she'd actually left her room and nothing bad had happened to any of them. It was a tiny bit of a confidence booster given the past few days.

As for now... back on the buses and a chance to get out of the building, and no monsters to potentially deal with until nightfall, all pluses in her book.

Wrapped in a pink sweater with more fuzz than she was ever used to wearing or picking out herself, she found a seat before her eyes caught onto Reno's hair. Waving for his attention, she indicated the empty seat next to her. Perhaps they could have a talk that didn't involve sex or being hurt this time?

[Reno, for now.]

[offduty.livejournal.com]

Holy shit, blood. What the hell else was next? Reno had just enough to feel it freaking squelch under his boots, and then he was back in his bed, luckily blood free. Even for his line of work, that was a hell of a lot of blood and he had no idea where it'd come from.

Whatever. Pools of blood wasn't his biggest concern. Hadn't the pipes run with blood before too? Man, what was this, a B-rated horror movie.

His nurse hadn't handed him anything pink or particularly eye-blinding, so he wasn't gonna complain about the jeans and gray sweater she pushed into his arms. He managed to get a light jacket out of the deal and headed out to where the buses were just in time to catch Elena boarding one. Couldn't find Rude, but he didn't have a lot of time there to stand and choose so he followed her in without hesitation and flopped down in the seat beside her.

"So. Bleeding walls, huh?"

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Morning found Indy--as suddenly as ever--with no cigarettes and no answers. Aside from that computer device, they hadn't found anything noteworthy. No reason to believe the rest of the offices would offer anything more promising. At least they hadn't run into Bigfoot or the killer bug swarms again.

But what the hell had happened to the walls at the end there?

He got up and found a pile of clothes folded on top of his desk. A quick look told Indy the blue denim waist overalls and brown collared shirt weren't his, but the tweed blazer wasn't too far off, and he wasn't going to complain. Doyleton was a place where he might actually learn something. Indy remembered Pierson's suggestion: maybe someone had information about those ruins or the damage to the surrounding woods. He dressed quickly, picking up the nearby pair of glasses as an afterthought. The more professorial and less reminiscent of a mental patient he looked, the better.

The nurse was unusually terse on the way out to the bus--probably trying to discourage a repeat of last night's advances, Indy decided--and he soon found himself in an empty bus seat. Well, this was bound to be interesting.

[Free! No limit. "Waist overalls"=jeans!]

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Once again, they hadn't made it to the basement. But, unlike before, that wasn't the first thing on Claude's mind once he woke up. Instead, all he could think of was that strange fog, that horrible, metallic scent of blood that had clung to the air, and how slick the floor had been beneath his feet.

Still, he was oddly calm once his nurse came to get him -- quiet, even, and she said as much as she led him out to the buses. Claude barely paid attention to the clothes he'd been given -- a pair of worn sneakers, skinny jeans, and a plaid, button-up shirt. He'd also been given a white jacket, which he kept tied around his waist. At least it was different from those boring uniforms they normally wore...

"Try to have fun in town today, Thomas," the nurse said in an almost motherly way, and Claude managed a smile.

"Sure," he said before taking his paper sack and stepping onto the bus. Claude paused, looking around for an empty seat. Finally, he spotted one by a man he hadn't met before, and he moved toward him.

"Um, excuse me, but mind if I sit here?" he asked, faintly apologetic as he rubbed the back of his neck.

[kindalikedit]

Dean woke up to find Sam gone. Same with the blood on the walls. It was like it'd never happened, and while his first though was maybe he'd been knocked out, it didn't explain how the walls were spotless: he didn't care how awesome you were at cleaning, you could get it that clean without putting some real time into it, enough time that he should've been conscious. Dean sat up, glancing over automatically at the spot where his brother had been sitting. It was empty. So was the bed where Angel should've been, the spot on the wall where it'd bled last night clean. Dean frowned. Maybe he didn't think much of Angel, but that didn't mean he wished a death sentence on the guy, either. Had last night been some kinda omen? Being insanely incompetent and not knowing where to draw the line between sympathetic and apologist didn't mean Angel deserved to get taken out. You don't know he's dead for sure, Dean reminded himself. It'd been what, only a few hours?

He couldn't write him off yet.

Dean had made sure everything was out of view by the time Hello Nurse came by, this time with a present.

"We've got something special planned for today, Eric." She held out what looked suspiciously like a bundle of clothes. "Martin Landel has seen it fit to have an outing to Doyleton."

Dean took the clothes. Checking the tag of the shirt on the top, he could see it was in his size, if not his clothes. "Y'mean it's a field trip?"

"If you want to call it that, yes."

Dean shot her a smirk. "It's totally cool with me if you wanna watch me change."

Hello Nurse didn't blush or act at all guilty. Instead, she did that same subtle, blink-or-you'll-miss-it quirk of the mouth that might be her suppressing a smile, and motioned for the orderly behind her to step inside while she turned around. There was no way he was gonna be able to sneak anything like the bowie knife, although this complicated the fact of how he was gonna hide the new tattoo on his chest, which it'd probably raise a lot of interesting questions he didn't want to have to BS his way through first thing in the morning. He managed to change quick, throwing on the black wife-beater and then the gray shirt over it as he'd turned to the side, concealing the fresh tattoo above his heart. Wearing these clothes over it didn't feel too great, but he still didn't know if he'd gotten an infection or not. The hoodie and then the overcoat were the last things: layers were no stranger to him, but he was pretty damn bundled up, all things considered.

Big yellow buses were there to take the patients to this Doyleton. Dean hadn't ever heard of a town called that, but there were a lot of podunk towns he hadn't heard of until it was knee-deep in evil. There were several groups of patients being divided up, split evenly between the three buses. Dean spotted Sam through one of the windows, chatting up a teen girl; he started toward that bus, only to find himself getting herded to a different bus. Damn, he'd have to hook up with him in town, then. Dean busied himself scanning the lot, taking in the buses. He'd really rather have his car back, but at least they knew they had vehicles here, with more armor than, say, a typical car. Buses weren't his idea of an escape vehicle, but they'd cover more ground than being on foot in the wilderness.

Dean settled into his seat, feeling like he was too damn big to fit in these seats and then thinking automatically how Sam must be squished in. Dean smiled to himself as he glanced out the window, eyes on Sam's bus next to his. There was just so much insane crap on their plates it was overwhelming. So much lies he had to keep straight so Sam could be happy a little bit longer. Dean just relished the fact Sam was alive, today was another day, and Cold Oak was behind them.

[adorkabledragon.livejournal.com]

Another trip to Doyleton. This was Keman's third week here, and even the trips on the ghastly metal monster called a "bus" had begun to feel routine. Mutely, he allowed the nurse to dress him (http://blog.cleveland.com/pdworld/2007/10/goodson.jpg) in a pair of baggy jeans and a warm jacket with odd metal teeth on the sides (a highly impractical fastener of some sort?). At any rate, it was much more comfortable than the tight clothes he'd had to wear a week before, even if his skinny frame looked just a little overwhelmed by all the extra clothing. He accepted his breakfast and shuffled towards the bus.

It looked like Valyn wasn't on this one. Damn. The few people he had passing acquaintances with seemed to be occupied, too. Wait, save one. That was...Brian, right? The man Keman had spoken with the day he realized Shana had gone. The one who was looking for his brother.

The dragon paused, awkwardly, next to the seat.

"Uh...hi. Brian, wasn't it? D-d'you mind if I sit here? There aren't that many open seats left..."

[innovator-skuld.livejournal.com]

Another field trip--great. Skuld was looking forward to the change of scenery, but... twelve days in this damned place was just too much.

Her outfit this time wasn't too bad, just dull; she was wearing a zip-up gray sweater over a slightly short white dress (which resembled a long t-shirt with a sash around the waist) and black stretch pants. Whatever.

Finding a window seat, she sat down and stared outside. Doyleton was too heavily guarded to hope to escape from during the day, but she wondered about at night. Consequently, she had her journal and a pen at the ready, to take notes on anything useful she saw.

No more just being support. It's time to figure out how to blow this joint!

[[For Hanekoma!]]

[catstreetblues.livejournal.com]

Whatever way he looked at it, Sanae had to admit it: his outfit sucked. Somehow the nurse had gotten him onto the bus wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a gray hoodie - something that your everyday bum would throw on. There was no flair to it at all; everything about it screamed, "I wear this every single day...and don't wash it!"

Yeah, no doubt about it: Landel's needed an image consultant. But at least he wasn't dressed from head to toe in gray, and Sanae figured he could at least be happy with that.

The barista wandered down the aisle, looking for an open seat. He finally found one next to a girl staring out the window and wearing an equally monotone outfit. Well, this is a joint effort, isn't it? "Hey, mind if I sit here?" Never could tell; sometimes people were expecting someone else.