Day 22: Intercom, Afternoon Shift

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

The intercom clicked on with its usual enthusiasm.

"Well, I hope you all enjoyed your brunch as much as you could given your excitement, because now is the time that I'm sure you've all been waiting for!" Of course, nearly everyone had been dreading this unwanted complication of visitors, but the Head Doctor had never been one for candor. "These next two shifts, you may wander to and from any of the following areas: The Sun Room, the Music Room, the Game Room, the Patients' Library, the Arts & Crafts Room, the Cafeteria (in which assorted crackers, cheese, cookies, and beverages will be available throughout the day), and the Courtyard. Minors are free to ask their nurses to escort them to the bathrooms or showers during the first shift and adults during the second shift. Men are free to ask to be escorted to the Recreational field (and play with items in the Activity Shed depending on how well-behaved they are!) and women may go during the second shift. You may also ask to be escorted back to your room at any time during either shift.

The Head Doctor took a breath, then continued in perhaps an even jollier tone.

"However, the following patients will be doing something even more exciting during the next shift: Matthew Lawrence, Peter Snide, Skylar Moore, Lawrence Fischer, Alex Roberts, Jonathan River, and Daniel Wright will be escorted to Waiting Room 1; Jack Doughter, Roland Langley, Kelly Lamden, Daniel Adams, Mark Lancaster, and Franz Haushofer will be escorted to Waiting Room 2. I am of course referring to the visitation of loved ones, for which the aforementioned patients shall be escorted to Waiting Room 1 and Waiting Room 2, and I truly hope that you and your friends and family may have a lovely, peaceful afternoon together."

After a moment of reflecting the same quiet peace that he supposedly wished upon his patients, the Head Doctor made what had become a usual addendum.

"Ah, yes, and how can we forget being graced with even more new faces on this sunny Landel's day? Please welcome Hanada Shiori, Nick Hall, Jake Emmet, Michael Thomas, Kalvin Mirsch, Catherine Taber, Jeanne Anderson, Donovan Kirby, and Fred Rogers! Look forward to even more additions to our fast-growing population as the days progress, and I hope you all enjoy our Sunday treats! Until next shift!"

The intercom clicked off with perhaps even more subtly twisted joy than it normally showcased.

[ OOC: There should only be two posts for the visitor shifts---one for Waiting Room 1 and another for Waiting Room 2. Each patient who's receiving a visitor makes their own separate thread in which they interact with their visitor, and unless you've already cleared special circumstances (like two patients receiving the same visitor) by the mods, please keep all the patients in separate threads--to keep things simple. 8D Anyway, here's the official description for the Waiting Rooms, so please abide by it:

Waiting Room/Lobby 1 and 2: This is where patients wait while they’re being checked in (though no one seems to actually remember this process). It’s also the place where patients are reunited with their loved ones - for a short while - during visitation hours. Cushioned, but not overly comfortable chairs are placed against the walls, with wooden tables here and there. A couple of magazine racks sit near the doors leading to the entry room, which periodicals such as Time, Newsweek, The New York Times, National Geographic, and various medical magazines. However, the magazines seem rather dated, as their pages are worn and wrinkled from extensive use. (They certainly do come from Earth, however, and chronicle events from our time, as well as some ominous speculation on an upcoming world war...)

Comments

[entrust-to-few.livejournal.com]

‘If House Solidor should crumble, the Empire would fail, and civil war would take us all.’

The smell of disinfectant was harsh, an intolerant scent that Larsa was far less accustomed to amongst other things. It was neither chaste like the hint of fresh flora in his room. Nor was it pleasant like pages of books opened far beyond their years. The smell stung him and left him nauseated, form hunched over the bed in an attempt not to spill whatever he’d eaten the day prior.

This bed was not his own. These sheets weren’t of Archadian silk, a material Larsa was utterly humble for and often gave to the lesser fortunate out of kindness. They were plain, ironed to a crisp finish though now wrinkled underneath him. Yet no matter how tightly the aristocrat wrapped it around his shaken body he couldn’t keep himself warm.

And there was hardly any sunshine to greet him as he awoke, but stale florescent lights that burned his flesh like hot coals. The room was silent, unnerving to those who’ve grown accustomed to the constant clanking of armor on marble floor and hoarse shouting of Judges amongst their men.

These tiny things Larsa would learn to miss amongst others, these simple gestures of home beyond his grasp. Eventually, as the weeks pass by, he would come to terms with his fate and the young Lord would cope for the best.

But for now Larsa would deduce the fantasy of being kidnapped. By a group of insurgents perhaps? He would not know, the aristocrat had been consumed by his country’s affairs of pacifism for the past year. The road to transforming Archadia from a country of war to one so otherwise was a difficult one to tread. To be snatched just as Larsa felt there was some kind of progress between Rozarria and his own motherland was a tragedy he would’ve wanted to avoid at all costs.

Alas.

“…”

Larsa had been awake for quite some time now, gray eyes plastered to the door in front of him. In the first few minutes he’d awoken the Emperor did his best to keep calm (His stomach certainly wasn’t up to this challenge), mentally retracing the steps he took in the previous day. There was nothing that signified as ‘odd’, but there had to besomething that revealed a weakness just wide enough for his kidnappers to snatch.

The door was locked, and yet he continued to pull. These walls were solid, yet he continued to knock. The bed was callous on his skin, but he had no other choice but to sit there and wait. The material of the cloths he wore was foreign beneath his fingertips, acting much like a film of slime that encased his body like a cocoon. Larsa wasn’t fond of these clothes.

In fact, he wasn’t much fond of anything in this room, and he would surely grow distasteful for this whole Institute all together.

[entrust-to-few.livejournal.com]

He had gone by his fifth run through of yesterday by the time the Intercom went off, startling him from his thoughts. Larsa listened intently, a rush of confusion overwhelming him as the man continued to speak. These terms meant very little in his vocabulary, and the names he heard held no familiarity. And not long after did the handle of his door twist open, revealing a young petite woman garbed in uniform.

Her smile was unsettling.

“… If ‘tis be gold you acquire I am more than obliged to accommodate your needs on behalf of my current situation.” Larsa’s tried his best to keep his voice clear despite how dry his throat felt. And yet the woman only continued to smile, walking into the room and stopping at the foot of his bed. The boy stifled when she reached her hand forward to place it comfortingly on his shoulder.

“I know this may be scary for you,” She responded in a gentle tone. “But we’ll try our best here at Landel’s to see you make a full recovery, Mr. Hall.”

… What?

Larsa merely blinked, eyes following up the woman’s arm until they met face to face, and he could no more but frown at these gestures.

“Pardon…? I am neither ‘sick’ nor this ‘Mister Hall’ you proclaim myself in being.” And yet this woman didn’t appear to be listening to him at all, her hand crawling up and combed his hair with her fingers.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Hall, I’ve read your files and I feel absolutely awful at the thought of children being here in this Institute.” Institute? “However, I can see why they’d send you here, considering how serious your case really is. It’d be a sin not to give a child like you the best for the future.”

Larsa had to hold himself back from sputtering. This was wrong, all of it! None of it made sense to him. And if this were truly the insurgent’s doing it was not only unnecessary but also terribly cruel to play these mind games. He must’ve looked distraught because moments later he found the woman embracing him fully, a gesture he was unaccustomed to among strangers.

“Shhh, we’ll take good care of you here…”

But his mind was starting to numb at the sides, and barely reacted when she pulled back and gently coaxed him off the bed. Larsa’s footing was a little shaky, but he managed to keep himself upright as the woman took his hand and began to lead him towards the door.

“P-Please. I beg of you…” The young Lord was beginning to shake. “If I were not to be let out Archadia will suffer! The burden ought be too heavy to carry. I-I cannot…”

Her next words were enough to make the child bow his head in deathly silence.

“After we’re done with you in Landel’s I reckon you’ll hardly remember this ‘Archadia’ ever again.”

’Lord Larsa is our last hope…’

[tartaros-avatar.livejournal.com]

Recluse knew something was horribly wrong the second he awoke- he never slept (A horrible waste of time). He sat up, hissing angrily as the dazzlingly bright lights assaulted his hypersensitive eyes. An annoyingly cheerful voice was prattling on over an intercom.
'Patients?' Is this prison masquerading as a hospital?
Wherever this was, it wasn’t an Arachnos facility. He had been captured. His armor was gone, replaced by an anonymous grey uniform, emblazoned with an (utterly humiliating) yellow smiley face. His senses felt dulled, his body drained. Obviously, some sort of field or medication was keeping him from employing his metahuman powers. Who did this? Who could have incapacitated me? Nemesis? The Rikti? ...The Freedom Phalanx? No matter. When he found out, they would die. He stood to study the room. Spare, functional furniture, and... he wasn't alone. Another prisoner was still asleep, undisturbed by the intercom. The light bouncing off the white walls finally became too bothersome to ignore. He frowned at the annoyance, moving a hand to cover his eyes.
A pale, white hand.
Recluse stared in shock. His skin, charcoal grey for the past seventy-six years was now the same color as a normal human’s. He hadn’t looked like this since before—
He reached around behind to feel along his spine. It was just a stupid hope, he knew they were gone. The spider legs that had grown from his back, the most striking feature of his transformation from human to something better- gone without a trace. No scarring, no sutures, no grafts, nothing. He was no better than the human he had been before his transformation. All that work, all those years gathering power, enough to challenge gods. All gone.

The lock in the door clicked, making Recluse start at the sudden noise. He gave a fraction of a second to the idea of attacking the person on the other side of the door, but crushed the foolish thought. If these people (maybe not humans, he reminded himself) could disable him so completely, a blind attack would be the height of idiocy.
He did give the idea more serious consideration when an overly cheerful nurse came through the door, smiling as she looked up from her clipboard.
“Mr. Emmet?”
Recluse wasn’t expecting that. But, he mused, Nemesis had a flair for mind games, and Sister Psyche of the Freedom Phalanx had always struck him as remarkably childish annoying bitchy petty. Neither would be above this sort of deception, although he could hardly imagine Nemesis creating anything so disgustingly cheerful. But, what choice did he really have at this moment but to play along?
“Yes?” He looked down at the woman, his face blank and doing his best to keep a sneer out of his voice. The nurse’s smile grew wider. “You slept in late, Mr. Emmet! Brunch is over, but you have free time to spend how you want!” She listed off the oh-so-wonderful places he could waste his time. Recluse shrugged, faking a sheepish smile. “Wherever there would be people. I’m anxious to meet the others here.” The nurse smiled (Again.) “Oh, good! Well, you might want to head to the Sun Room.” Not more light, damn it! He smiled again, bowing slightly. “Then please, lead on.”
Everyone responsible for this would die.

[haiiro-no-chou.livejournal.com]

Rukia opened her eyes, expecting to see the Sixth Division's meeting hall, or perhaps the Eleventh's, and saw instead a blank white wall. No, not a wall. A ceiling. And she was lying down. In a bed.

How strange.

Rukia sat up, frowning. Had something happened when they stepped through the portal back to Soul Society? She thought for a moment. They had just found out about Orihime's abduction - that brought on a pang of worry - and then Rukia's brother and Captain Zaraki had appeared, calling all the Shinigami back to Soul Society. Rukia, of course, planned to head back to the real world as soon as she could, and from the sidelong glance she'd gotten from Renji, he seemed to be thinking along the same lines. So they had stepped through the portal, and, well, she was in this room.

Pushing the blankets back and standing on the cool tile floor, Rukia surveyed the room. No windows, one door. A dresser, two desks, two chairs, two closets, and two beds. The other bed was neatly made. She almost shivered, for a moment reminded of the prison, or worse, the Twelfth Division's labs. She quickly squashed that thought, though. After all, who in Soul Society would ever think to dress her in pajamas with a smiling face on the front of the shirt?

If she was in Soul Society, she should have been wearing her Shinigami robes, or at the very least...

Reaching reflexively for her zanpakutou, Rukia was somehow not surprised to find it gone. Sode no Shirayuki is missing, I'm wearing strange clothes, in a strange room... Am I even in Soul Society? Concentrating, Rukia tried to locate other Shinigami nearby, but sensing their reiatsu was like trying to breathe through a wet sponge. She got the vague impression that there was at least one other Shinigami nearby, but the sudden headache and nausea made her stop any further investigation.

My powers are gone, or very nearly so, she thought. Perhaps I've been put into another gigai? A particularly weak one? Rukia regarded her hands thoughfully, but looked up when the door started to open. Unsure of who it might be, Rukia remained still. A plump young woman who looked supciously like a nurse bustled in, all smiles.

"Good morning, Shiori dear. Well, I should say afternoon. You're quite the late sleeper, aren't you?"

Rukia blinked, glancing quickly around the room and growing increasingly irritated. "If you're going to barge into someone's room, at least get her name right. Who are you?"

The woman continued to smile her cheery smile, ignoring Rukia's first comment. "My name is Rachel, and this place is called Landel's Mental Health Institute. I'm just sure you'll like it here. Now, come on, let's go meet your new friends."

Rukia stared at the woman like her head was covered in snakes rather than strawberry-blonde hair. A mental health intsitute? If she remembered correctly, that was a hospital where they put crazy people. A hospital in the real world, not Soul Society. So at least she knew she wasn't home... This was all far too strange, though. Could it have something to do with Aizen and the Arrancar? Had Rukia somehow been kidnapped like Orihime? Was this all just another illusion?

Perhaps determining that the new patient's blank stare was indicative of dull wits, the nurse approached, gently grabbing Rukia's arm.

"Take your hands off me!" Rukia snarled, wrenching her arm away. The blonde's smile wavered for just a moment, but soon she continued with a conspiratorial grin. "You know, there are all sorts of handsome young guys here who I'm sure you're just dying to make friends with."

Thoroughly confused, Rukia decided to follow the woman for the time being, at least until she got out of this room and had a better look at her surroundings. After that, all bets were off.

[daddyslilkiller.livejournal.com]

Dim shapes were chasing him. Even running as fast as he could, he couldn’t escape. It was like those horror movies that Ken –Wait, Ken? Why did he know that name?- hated so much. The ones where however much you ran and ran, the monster was right behind you. He was panting for breath, feet slipping in the growing puddles of blood under his feet. He flung a dart –Dart? Why would he have darts?- behind himself, trying to slow them down, trying to stop them, but-

Omi sat up, gasping for air and staring wide-eyed at nothing. His hands fisted into the sheets at his sides, trying to hide the trembling. He hated his nightmares. They were always different, but he always woke up with horrible headaches and feeling like he should remember them, or something about them, but he never could. They slipped away faster than he could grasp at them, no matter how important he thought catching must be.

He started to calm his breathing, working on ordering his thoughts the way his trainers at Kritiker had always told him to… which was when he finally noticed that he wasn’t in his bed at the Koneko. He reached for darts he always kept under his pillow, but found instead a large, black flashlight. He blinked stupidly at it for a minute, not quite able to process what had happened, or perhaps processing it too fast for his conscious brain to pick a single, plausible theory and go with it.

The last thing he remembered was the previous night’s successful mission. They’d made it home, for once, with nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises from the lax defense around the warehouse. They’d even managed to avoid killing the guards, which had left Omi especially happy about the mission as a whole. He’d started on the mission report after cleaning up, waiting for first Aya, then Ken, and finally Yohji to drift off upstairs to their rooms before updating their personnel files, as usual. It had all been routine, and he’d headed upstairs in the wee hours to catch a few hours of sleep before school.

So why was he here, now, instead of where he should be?

He finally forced himself to slow down and take a minute to actually look around. The other bed, obviously slept in but currently unoccupied. He was secretly glad about that. Dresser. No windows, only a single door. Hospital? No, no medical equipment. He refused for the moment to consider anything worse.

He instinctively shoved the flashlight back under the pillow when he heard the door opening. A nurse stood in the doorway, smiling reassuringly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Thomas. Welcome to Landel’s. You slept so late today, I'm afraid you missed brunch. Luckily for you, though, they're serving snacks in the cafeteria all day. Doesn't that sound nice?”

He mentally catalogued a number of things about her reply even as he smiled in response to her greeting. One, she’d used a fake name. Two, he was at some place called ‘Landel’s.’

Three… neither of the above points told him why he was there.

Only one real possibility came to mind, and that was that Kritiker had decided he needed a ‘vacation.’ He’d seen it happen to other agents if they strayed too far toward enjoying their job, but he hadn’t thought anything was unusual. Had something come up on the recent round of psych evals? And why bring him here in the middle of the night, under an assumed name, and without his knowledge?

Too many questions to answer easily. Time to play along until something made sense.

He smiled brightly at the nurse, who really seemed quite nice. She seemed relieved when he didn't ask any questions or put up a resistance, which struck him as odd, but he just put it with the other problems to think about later. He followed her, listening carefully as she detailed all the activities he could take part in on this very special day at Landel's. She laughed at him when his stomach loudly protested the delay in getting breakfast.

"Well, Michael, sounds like your stomach has decided it wants to visit the cafeteria first, hm?"

He nodded enthusiastically. First the cafeteria, then he'd find out exactly what was going on.

[per-ardua.livejournal.com]

Raine's return to consciousness was slow at first, but her first real thought was that she was in a bed, and she didn't know where. Considering their journey had taken them to a entirely different world than the one she knew, that wasn't so unusual.

However, the second she remembered the last place she had been--the Tower of Salvation--she remembered, as well, what had happened there. Raine leapt out of bed and to her feet in the blink of an eye, looking around quickly to get an idea of her surroundings--

The nurse standing just inside the doorway jumped, startled, then gave a very fake-sounding giggle. "My, you're energetic. You startled me!"

Raine just stared at her. "Where am I?" She didn't recognize her surroundings at all; many medical places looked remarkably similiar, and she supposed waking up in one made sense after nearly being killed in the trap she'd been caught in, but there still should have been something about the room to give her a hint of where she was, and there wasn't.

"This is Landels Institute," the nurse said. Technically an answer, and yet one of the least helpful things she could have said.

Raine tried to remind herself not to bite the woman's head off; so she took things too literally, she was still trying to be helpful. Her voice still came out very hard when she asked, "Where is that? And was anyone else found with me?" Please let Genis and the others be all right, please...

"We're in New Jersey." She stopped for a moment, considering, then gave Raine an apologetic smile. "No one was 'found' with you; your family admitted you here. Do you remember any of that, Jeanne?"

Jeanne? Her breath caught for a second. "Right now, I have another child on the way. I’ve already decided on a name. If it’s a girl, it’s Jean." After a long moment, she managed to say, "My name is Raine."

"That's not what your chart says." The nurse's smile was the most patronizing Raine had seen in years.

"Then you have the wrong one." Raine went to move past her and find out what was going on around here, but the woman stepped into her path, blocking the door.

"Let's not make trouble your first day here, Jeanne. It starts bad habits. You want to get better so you can go back to your family, don't you?" she asked.

Raine couldn't even formulate a response to that; there were so many things wrong with that statement that she didn't know where to begin.

The woman gave her that smile again; she resisted the urge to wipe it off her face. Violently. In a tone normally reserved for reasoning with very young children, the nurse went on, "Did you hear the intercom? It's free time right now, so you have your choice of locations."

Her head was starting to hurt. "I'm afraid I didn't," she said as civilly as she could. The reasonable thing to do was find out a little more about her surroundings before formulating a plan or taking any actions, and it was entirely possible she would encounter someone she knew in the process.

Did the woman never stop smiling? And could it look any less genuine? "You may choose to go to the Sun Room, Music Room, Game Room, the Patients' Library, the Arts & Crafts Room, the cafeteria, or the courtyard. Or you could stay here, but isn't it nice to meet new people?"

"..." After counting to ten in a silent attempt at calming herself down (it didn't work), Raine said, "The library would be ideal." It would probably be the fastest way to find out the information she needed... if anything of the sort was available. If the book selection was too slim, she could ask around; judging from the multitude of rooms the nurse had listed, Landels was fairly large.

"All right, then; this way!" Her fake smile widened slightly as she turned to lead the way.

Raine resisted the growing urge to knock her unconscious and followed; if she was lucky, she would find herself some real answers.

[dancingdagger.livejournal.com]

Unlike some of the other patients, Penelo was gently shaken awake, and it was good too, because she was having a terrible nightmare. She and Vaan were going to visit Balthier and Fran, and they were taking their brand new airship... but something was wrong. A fog had enveloped the airship - Penelo remembered it very clearly, how their panicky breaths were visible on the glass as they peered closer to try and see through the fog. Then they hit turbulence and the ship started to rock violently, so violently that their clothes, supplies, everything was getting tossed and turned onto the floor. And Penelo remembered giving Vaan a panicked look and watching the readings on the screen spin out of control before -

"Ms. Taber?"

"... Huh?" Penelo blinked blearily, staring up at the kindly woman before her. She was dressed oddly... a nurse? It looked like it, though who was 'Ms. Taber'?

"Ms. Taber, it's time to wake up! You were supposed to be up hours ago, but you just went right on sleeping!" The nurse cheerfully informed her, and Penelo only grew more confused. So, of course, she had to ask.

"Who is Ms. Taber? And where am I? Is this a hospital?" Penelo remembered visting Vaan's parents in the hospital when the plague had struck Rabanastre... and again, when Reks died. It really wasn't the best place to be. She quickly checked herself. If she was in the hospital...

"It wasn't a dream!" Penelo gasped, suddenly straightening herself up. "We crashed! Where's Vaan? I need to see him!"

The nurse only smiled, a smile that sent chills down Penelo's spine. The smile told her that the nurse had no idea what she was talking about.

"That's alright, Ms. Taber, we will take you to the cafeteria. Does that sound like a good idea? You must be famished!"

The Dalmascan navigator frowned, realizing that this nurse had the wrong person. Who was Ms. Taber?! It didn't really matter at the moment, Penelo had to find Vaan. What if... what if she wasn't telling her where Vaan was because Vaan didn't...

"Ms. Taber?" The nurse looked worried as Penelo's eyes glistened, like she was about to cry. "What's wrong? Your family admitted you here because -"

"Vaan... Is he... Is he dead?"

The nurse sighed, resting a firm grip on Penelo's shoulder.

"Ms. Taber, you're at Landels. There is no 'Vaan' here, nor is there one back home. Please, come with me and we'll get you some food, alright?"

[deathinvitation.livejournal.com]

Coming out of the Lifestream was always something of a shock to the system, the moment of being dead and the alive tended to account for some disorientation. Out of all the times this had happened to Sephiroth, this particular one truly stood out. Not only had he come to in a place he didn't recognize, but he was lacking his usual clothing as well. Instead, he found himself clad in what looked to be a sweatsuit of sorts with a ridiculous smiley face on it.

This would not do.

Pushing off the bed, Sephiroth began searching through the closet for his own clothing, finding nothing more than this strange stuff. There was no sign of his usual garments or more importantly, Masamune. No one would have dared take that.

"Mr Rogers? Are you ready to go?"

Sephiroth merely stared at her, waiting for her to leave him alone or make sense of this situation. Most people tended to wilt under his gaze or decide that elsewhere would be a better place to be. This woman had no such sense of self-preservation it would seem. Not only did she continue to be there but had the nerve to step into the room and try to shoo him out.

If she touched him, all bets were off on not harming anyone until he figured out what was going on. Of all the things he could endure, being touched by one of their ilk was not on the list.

"Now Mr Rogers, there's quite a few choices. You can go to the Sun Room or I hear there's some club or another meeting out in the courtyard!"

Sephiroth lifted a brow at her. She was serious. It would have been amusing if he didn't look at her with the same cold gaze one might give a cockroach they were about to squish under a boot. Speaking of which, it appeared he was missing those as well.

"Since you're new, why don't you go to the courtyard? There's plenty of new people for you to meet there."

Closing the closet carefully, Sephiroth let himself be led by the woman out of the room. The sooner he found out what was going on and why he was lacking most of his powers (not to mention the few possessions he claimed as his own) the sooner he could return to doing what he needed to do.

[saw-this-coming.livejournal.com]

There was darkness. No light shined within Sasori’s consciousness. Was this what it felt like to be dead? It was nothing like he’d imagined. The peaceful silence and the steady movements of his chest rising and falling calmed his mind.

Wait…

Sasori took note once again of the act of breathing. In death one shouldn’t breathe. Did that mean that hadn’t died? Impossible, Sasori thought. He clearly remembered the blades piercing through his chest cavity covered in the last remains of his blood. He remembered falling to the ground in the empty embrace of death between his parents’ wooden bodies. There had been nothing afterwards, until this.

Perhaps death brought new life? Had he been reincarnated? No, that couldn’t be right. Sasori retained all the memories he had up until he was sure he’d died. If reincarnation was real, he shouldn’t be able to recall anything. Yet, if his life was not new then why did he find himself breathing? Puppets don’t breathe.

Slowly, Sasori began to open his eyes. A bright light blinded him and caused him to have to squint. In reaction his left arm rose quickly to block the light as well. It took a minute or two for his eye sight to adjust to the lighting.

The momentary shock from the light temporarily had Sasori reconsidering his thoughts on death. Maybe he was in heaven? The light most certainly was bright enough to make him think so. Sasori knew better than that. He didn’t believe in such hokey religions, but if they were true he knew that his place would not be with fluffy white clouds and angels with harps. No, Sasori would find himself amongst fire and brimstone for the deeds he’d willingly done.

Soon Sasori’s eyes adjusted to the white light of his environment. There was a light above him with a white shade hanging from a white ceiling. Looking to his right he saw a white wall. He knew that meant there were probably three other white walls to match.

Sasori let his arm fall back to his side. His fingers gripped the sheets and he could feel his head sinking into something soft. It was most likely a pillow. He was lying in a bed. He couldn’t feel any of his equipment. In fact, Sasori noted how strangely normal his body felt. The fact that he was breathing only confirmed his suspicion. He was flesh and blood again. He could feel the heart in his chest beat a little faster with the realization.

What the hell is going on?

The last observation the puppet master made was that he was also being watched. He let his head fall to the left and standing by his side was a beautiful blonde woman in nurse attire. I’m in a hospital? Sasori blinked his pale eyes in confusion as the young woman opened her mouth to speak.

“Welcome to Landel’s Institute, Mr. Kirby,” she smiled cheerfully. “We’re going to be taking very good care of you." The woman proceeded to list off several areas that he could go to and asked him which one he would like to attend.

Sasori sat in silence and stared at the nurse. Was she serious? This seemed like a big joke.

"Mr. Kirby, if you don't answer I'll have to choose for you." She continued speaking to him as if he was mental patient or something of that nature. This was insulting, but since she seemed to waiting on an answer he decided he'd humor her for now and give her one.

"The Sun Room will be fine," he spoke calmly. The nurse smiled again and told him to follow her and she would take him there.

[clone-captain.livejournal.com]

The first thing Ordo was aware of was that he was not in the bed he had gone to sleep in. Second, he was not in the clothes he had gone to sleep in. The last big piece was the fact that there was exactly one other bed in the room.

He rolled out of the bed and landed on his feet, making a quick complete search of the room before moving to the door and studying it. It didn't appear to be all that sturdy, and really it was quite strange looking.

Ordo was still trying to determine the specifics concerning the door, and where the control panel to open it was when the metal knob attached to it turned and the door opened.

Standing on the other side was a human female in some sort of white uniform. She was smiling brightly at him. "Ah, Mr. Mirsch." And calling him by the wrong name. It had to be some kind of confusion, and he'd been mistaken for another clone.

One who called himself Mirsch, and who told strangers his name. Mirsch was a pretty strange name for a clone. "I'm not Mirsch." He said. That only made the nurse give him a slightly pitying smile.

"Would you rather I call you Kalvin? Or Kal for short?" That wasn't his name either, so clearly, something had gone very wrong if they were trying to call him 'Kal'.

"No, my name is Ordo." The nurse just shook her head slightly before speaking again.

"Well, if you'll please follow me, I'm afraid you slept through brunch, so you'll have to wait until dinner."

Ordo considered for a moment killing her and getting out on his own, there wasn't anyone else in the hallway, and no surveillance devices that he could see. Still, better to wait a bit before killing anyone and getting into a difficult situation. At least until he found his armor.