damned_institute | Day 43: Arts & Crafts Room (4th Shift)

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Day 43: Arts & Crafts Room (4th Shift)

When Momo left Hitsugaya's side, she felt both relieved to be away from him and disappointed that the nurses had separated them. Either way, she felt like she was suffocating, that she had too much building in her mind with all this on top of the message she'd been given by the undead knight on that rooftop the night before. There was only one way for Momo to relieve the pressure.

After leaving a note on the board for Senna, Momo headed into the Arts & Crafts room. She was still in a lot of pain, but Hitsugaya's healing, though minor, did make it much less painful to hold things. Taking all of the special markers, she stood before the large white board and uncapped the lightest of the colors - yellow.

Save thyself.

Those words would echo in Momo's mind for a very long time. She had much to thank the knight for, the least of which was leaving her right arm relatively undamaged. She needed it for many things, being her primary hand, but right now she needed it for one thing.

Momo began to draw.

[reserved for Senna]

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The discussion with Allelujah had left Yukito with something to think about, so he was only halfway paying attention to where the nurse was leading him. She was talking to him about something, and he nodded absently - then half a second later wondered what he'd just agreed to.

He found out when she led him into the Arts & Crafts room, setting a pile of supplies on the table in front of him before giving him a pat on the shoulder and heading off on...whatever the nurses did when they weren't fussing over their charges. Yukito blinked after her, then down at the pile of paper and supplies, and wondered just what she expected him to do now.

At least he didn't have a visitor this week. That was most definitely something to be grateful for. But as he picked up a piece of pink paper, he couldn't help but remember the last time he'd been in here, helping Ururu with whatever project she'd been working on, and she'd asked him to join the group that was trying to find the people who'd disappeared.

It seemed that now she was on that list, as well. Hopefully they'd have some success soon.

After a second Yukito shook his head firmly, pushing away the piece of paper and poking through the other supplies he'd been given. If he kept dwelling on things like that he'd end up brooding and grumpy as Yue I am not grumpy and that just wouldn't do at all.

[for Jamie]

Lelouch hadn't wanted to move at all after Nunnally left, but with more patients and visitors alike on their way into the room, his nurse had insisted upon it. She'd also barred him from retiring to his room for the night, saying that the last thing he needed in his current state was to be left alone. The most she let him do was drop off the string of cranes Nunnally had given him, and while the temporary almost-solitude did give him some more time to recover, it wasn't enough.

There was only one place in the institute Lelouch wanted to visit after that, and with one last lingering look at Nunnally's gift, he started walking to the arts and crafts room, not caring whether or not his nurse kept up. It wouldn't be the same as being alone, but if there were at least fewer people there-- he couldn't face anyone right now, especially not anyone he knew.

His already bowed head dipped even lower when he spotted Euphy in the sun room out of the corner of his eye, but hopefully before she could notice him, he made it to his destination and searched out a perfectly square sheet of pink construction paper. A purple sheet soon joined it, and without even acknowledging the other people in the room, Lelouch found a chair in the far corner of the room and began to fold.

[For Suzaku.]

Edited 2009-08-22 02:18 (UTC)

Suzaku did feel a little better after his talk with Sen, miraculously enough. Of course, "better" was completely relative, because nothing could really fix the feeling of being ripped to shreds. Not to mention having to pretend he was still whole, for her sake. But what was left of him had rediscovered some element of determination, and while Sen hadn't actually been referring to Lelouch when she'd told Suzaku to talk to his friend, the idea was in his head now and it wasn't leaving any time soon. If Lelouch was going to be an idiot, Suzaku would just find him and beat some sense into him.

The most frustrating thing, Suzaku thought as he stalked through the Sun Room and checked the Game Room, was that Lelouch's actions didn't even make sense on a logical level. That was rare enough already, but when it came to Euphie? Lelouch had already proven he could use her with inhuman levels of ruthlessness. If he felt anything for her, it was an emotion of little consequence that could be easily overridden. So Suzaku had no idea why he'd make such a strategically stupid move like dismissing his knight. It was almost funny that now that Suzaku had learned to make use of cold reason, Lelouch abandoned it.

Unless -- did he think Suzaku wasn't fit as a knight anymore? Or at least that he wouldn't be fit now that Euphie was here, if he would be focusing on her all the time? Did Lelouch honestly think he didn't need Suzaku? For God's sake -- that couldn't be true, it just couldn't. Then again, Suzaku had already betrayed him enough times that Lelouch would have reason to believe he couldn't rely on him.

Suzaku bit his lip, angrily slamming the door of the library after quickly determining Lelouch wasn't in there. (His nurse, still trailing along behind him, called out in admonishment, but he ignored her.) Finally, the Arts and Crafts room rewarded his search. He was pissed enough at this point to punch Lelouch in the face, but he knew that would just get him sedated, and goddammit, why wasn't he ever allowed to show anything he felt? The strain of hiding everything was grating on his frayed nerves, and he felt about ready to snap, if his angry outbursts on the board earlier didn't already count.

"Lelouch," he nearly snarled, stomping over to the other boy and grabbing his shoulder none-too-gently. He jerked him up from the chair with little regard for whatever Lelouch had been doing, so the other boy would have to face him. "What the hell is your pro --" And that's when he got a good look at Lelouch's eyes. "-- blem. . ."

Suzaku trailed off, completely at a loss. He just stared, unable to believe that Lelouch had cried not once, but twice since they'd gotten here, when he'd always envisioned him as -- being made of stone, or something like that. The shock was nearly painful; he'd almost made himself forget Lelouch's reaction that first night, and the things he'd said the night after. It brought into sharp relief what Euphie had said about him that morning. He just -- he couldn't -- Lelouch had a heart somewhere in there, that much was sure, but he'd still done all those terrible things. Suzaku couldn't forget that. And he couldn't let Lelouch walk away, either. And he couldn't bring himself to yell at Lelouch when he looked like this, either! Which left him with -- what? Why did everything have to be so complicated?!

"What happened?" he finally asked, roughly, but the hardness in his expression was mostly forced at this point. Because he just didn't even know how to react.

Why was it that no matter what side the two of them were fighting on, Suzaku always managed to arrive at precisely the wrong moment? Walking in on Lelouch while he was in the middle of folding a paper crane wasn't nearly as bad as flying directly overhead just as he shot Euphemia, but with the day he'd been having so far-- he should have made more of an effort to convince his nurse to let him stay in his room.

He didn't resist as he was pulled him to his feet, seeing little to no point in trying when he knew he wouldn't have succeeded even if he'd given it his all. That didn't mean he contributed anything to the motion, though, and once standing, he didn't bother making eye contact. He wasn't in the mood for this, and Suzaku wanted to have this confrontation now, he was going to be severely disappointed.

Whatever anger the knight felt seemed to evaporate fairly quickly, though, and surprised at this sudden change, Lelouch ventured a short glance at him before straightening and pulling away. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with," he replied, doing his best to remain impassive. He wasn't about to tell Suzaku what was wrong after he'd just dismissed him, so the sooner he got rid of him-- he just wanted to finish his crane in peace, damn it. He had enough to deal with just thinking about Nunnally, what the institute had done to her, and what he had to do once he got out of here without having to-- what the fuck did Suzaku want from him, anyway? Wasn't it enough that he was leaving Euphy alone? The least Suzaku could do was extend the same courtesy to him.

"Besides, you have other matters to attend to, don't you?" Lelouch continued, his voice growing colder. "Unless you intend to abandon those duties, I suggest you leave."

Edited 2009-08-22 05:33 (UTC)

Suzaku was about to protest -- of course it concerned him, why wouldn't it? -- but Lelouch had to go and ruin it by being an asshole. Which just about summed up everything. "Shut up!" He lost control as quickly as he had gained it, and he reached out toward Lelouch again. Because he'd always expressed himself physically, and he was just so fucking angry and didn't know what to do but grab a handful of Lelouch's shirt and tug him back towards him. Because Lelouch kept pulling away, and he had no right to pull away from Suzaku.

Because he knew very well what Lelouch was really talking about. It was hard enough for Suzaku to think of anything other than Euphie without Lelouch being so scathing about it. So -- mocking. Even Lelouch referring to her obliquely like that, just the fact that he would dare talk about her so casually, made Suzaku want to punch him again. As if he wasn't already disgusted enough with himself for lying to her and being prepared to abandon her, he had to have it thrown back at him like that, and by the very person he was supposed to serve. The person he was going to have to beg to serve. Oh, that was just it.

"You're one to talk about abandoning duties," he snapped back. He didn't really mean that, but -- what the hell was so important that Lelouch was suddenly going to throw away their alliance like that? Of course they could still work together without Suzaku being his knight, but not with the way Lelouch was acting, as if they were going to part ways completely.

"Or maybe you forgot what my -- our duties are." Because Suzaku couldn't protect Euphemia, he knew that. He couldn't change what was going to happen to her. All he could do was create the future she would have wanted. And he could only do that with Lelouch's help.

Jamie was not an artistic person, and hadn't done "arts and crafts" since he'd grown out of coloring books roughly ten years ago. Regardless he let his nurse lead him into the room and over to a table, figuring it would do no good to protest it. Besides, he wanted to keep as low a profile as possible and avoid attracting any undue attention - and he supposed it was just as well he wasn't spending the afternoon sedated again after Wild Eagle'd gotten out that morning...

Geez, will you let it go? the alter snapped. I was TRYIN' to get us out of here yesterday. Which is more'n you seem to've been doing for however the hell long you've been here. You ain't gonna accomplish anything by playin' it safe all the time, y'know.

Jamie flinched a little, which he did his best to conceal by raking a hand through his hair, and muttered under his breath, "Just...be quiet. All right?"

Briefly he feigned interest in a haphazard stack of paper on the table in front of him as he tried to compose himself, and then shot a glance and a nervous half-grin at the table's other occupant, who didn't seem much more excited than Jamie himself at the prospect of playing with art supplies. "...mn. Hi."

This time, Lelouch resisted, yanking on his shirt to try and free himself but making very little in the way of progress. He ended up stopping relatively quickly, not because he'd given up or didn't care that Suzaku was effectively holding him prisoner, but because he didn't want to draw the attention of the nurses watching over the room.

It would be practically impossible to avoid that with how few patients there were, though, so pushing aside his anger at the fact that Suzaku dared to lay hands on him like this, he fixed his former knight with a cold glare, tilted his head arrogantly, and replied as if he hadn't heard a single word he'd said, "If you're that determined to make a scene, perhaps we should seek a larger audience. Would you like to move this to the Sun Room, my Lord? I daresay we'll find at least one person there who cares enough about your latest problem with following orders to listen. Heaven knows that I don't."

He pulled on his shirt again, fully aware that it was unlikely that Suzaku would let him go after that but wanting to at least try to get away again. He didn't-- Suzaku shouldn't be here right now, not when Euphemia needed him and there were no real issues between them now besides those which had always existed. Why was he being so stubborn? "I know what our duties are far better than you could possibly imagine," Lelouch muttered, expression shuttering even further. How could Suzaku even think-- and after he'd had to face it again just last-- he couldn't do it, but there was no other way for them to-- "Let me go, Suzaku."

Edited 2009-08-22 19:23 (UTC)

The room was staying pretty empty today, it seemed - maybe that was why the nurse had dragged him in there? Did they maybe have some kind of room quota to fill? Yukito amused himself with that thought for a moment as he idly poked at a container of dried macaroni. He'd much rather have it cooked and eaten it than turned it into some kind of strange art project, but...well, it wasn't as though he had anything else pressing to do right now.

Two others in the room seemed to be arguing over something, though he couldn't really hear what they were saying, and Yukito's attention was focused in that direction with a small worry that maybe someone should intervene, when he was distracted again by the arrival of someone else at his table. He wasn't about to object to company (of the friendly sort, that was; he'd read some interesting things about other patients on the board lately) and he directed a cheerful grin in the young man's direction.

"Afternoon," he observed, gesturing toward the pile of seemingly random supplies on the table in front of him. "Ever dreamed of making necklaces out of dry pasta? If so, you're set." There was even glitter to decorate it with, if someone wanted to pick it up off the floor. Someone had apparently been having a lot of fun last shift.

"Query: Don't you think I've had enough trauma and humiliation today already?" HK couldn't quite find the will to continue his campaign of terror against his nurse at the moment. But...

Waitamicrosecond. There were those color styluses somewhere around here. He could recreate scenes from last night's carnage in even more vivd detail! He grabbed one stylus of every color and first did a test sheet in his notepad to see how the colors blended. There were some subtle hues of zombie flesh that just couldn't be captured with one cheery color alone!

Once he'd determined what resources he had to work with, he turned to a fresh sheet of paper and began drawing as only a droid could: With absolute accuracy and detail. He started out with a picture of that moment when Lockdown had ripped a zombie's head off. As much as the very idea of the other inorganic was making him feel just slightly nervous at the moment, because he liked his virginity and he wanted to keep it... It had been an impressive display of violence!

[For Yukari!]

Miku felt a little better by the time she left Keman and the library. He was a nice person to be so concerned about a relative stranger like herself. But now that the shift had changed, she went to the next room and sat down at an unoccupied table with black felt pieces, safety scissors, a hole punch, yarn and a plastic yarn needle which was dull and basically useless for anything except crafts.

She had wanted to busy herself, and since origami was out of the question (she didn't feel like dealing with a papercut), a pair of cat ears seemed like a cute thing to make. They would be cute on Ritsuka, she decided.

[For Peter and Kaoru ♥]

Why did Lelouch have to be like this? How were they supposed to work together when they couldn't even communicate without Lelouch treating him like -- like another of his minions, or -- Suzaku didn't even know. It was hard enough figuring out how to talk to him without him acting like -- acting. Was he just putting on some fake personality again? He'd said he'd be honest in front of Suzaku, but it was obvious that more than a few things had changed since then.

If only Suzaku knew why they had changed. By all rights, if anyone was going to call this off, it should be him. What stake did Lelouch have in it? If he knew what they had to do, then -- and he was still referring to Euphie as if nothing had happened, or at least as if he didn't care at all. If he didn't care, Suzaku had no idea why he would be reacting like this, and that wasn't even touching on whatever he must have been crying over.

If Lelouch wasn't going to make any sense, however, Suzaku would have to be the one to act reasonable. There was too much riding on their partnership to get angry over Lelouch's bullshit, especially not when Suzaku had set out to try to repair that partnership in the first place.

It was only through sheer force of will that Suzaku made himself ignore the oblique references to Euphie -- after all, he'd probably have to get used to much worse if Euphie was going to try to work with Lelouch -- and he finally let go of Lelouch, though admittedly with a bit of a shove. "I thought you didn't want me following your orders anymore," he bit out, as calmly as he could. They were going to talk about this, dammit. And he had to admit Lelouch had a point about making a scene, not that he really cared, but -- reasonable, he had to be reasonable.

And honest, because that was the only way they would get anywhere. "You must have thought I wasn't doing a very good job of it. Either way, you can't care as much about your duties as you say you do." Because that's what it meant, for him not to care about working with Suzaku, unless he actually thought he could do this by himself. It didn't matter how bad Suzaku was at following orders.

Peter had been dragged out of the room and virtually carried to the showers by a stoic orderly, his nurse giving him an earful about proper conducts and disturbing the other patients on the way. It kind of sucked. He wanted to thank that lady. Crazy as she was, it was nice to laugh and goof off like a kid again. Muck around in the finger paints. He'd leave her a note on the bulletin, for sure.

While the opportunity to shower alone was a golden one here, the way the water echoed on the tiles was giving him the creeps. Emptiness made the room larger. Peter hunched under the stream, lips a tight line as he hurriedly scrubbed away any trace of the fight, ignoring the wetness under his feet and what it brought to mind. Dead and buried...

Sobered and silent, Peter let the nurse scrub his hair with a towel, change his bandages, and lead him back into the Sun Room with the instructions to not disrupt the peace again.

He didn't stay for long. A familiar face wandered by on her way to the Arts and Crafts Room - Miku. Peter stared after her for a moment. Her note this morning had worried him; she didn't say what had happened to her friend. Just that he was gone. If it was anything like what happened to him, then maybe...maybe she needed someone to talk to. Someone who could relate. If not, it couldn't hurt just to check on her. She seemed so small. Alone.

Skirting around the nurses, he padded softly after her, halting at the chair opposite and offering a smile. "Hey."

Edited 2009-08-22 23:59 (UTC)

Miku looked up him from her pieces of felt and tried to smile. It looked more a grimace, but she'd at least tried. It was too soon to smile, she knew, it would be like totally ignoring the fact Sousuke had been alive at all. "Hello, Peter-san," she greeted. "Do you want to sit?" She wasn't sure if it would be better or worse for her, really, but maybe she could do without listening to the voice in her head that blamed her for all of this.

Her fingers moved constantly; cutting felt, measuring it, and hoping it didn't look too ridiculous.

"If that's okay with..."

She'd just given him permission, hadn't she? Somewhat sheepishly, Peter took the seat, silently gauging the half-grimace she'd sent him. Not good. But really, she wasn't bursting into tears or vomiting over breakfast like he'd been, so not as bad as it could be. He chewed his lip, then leaned over to get a look at her handiwork. Maybe she needed a distraction, too. "What's this going to be?"

Wild Eagle seemed utterly flabbergasted at the idea of making jewelry out of food and reflected the notion that anyone who actually did so probably belonged in the mental institution. Jamie, as was becoming habit for him, ignored his alter and managed a weak smile. "That, uh. Isn't really something I've ever thought about doing, to be honest. Seems kinda silly." He shrugged a bit and nudged at the stack of paper in front of him. "Not that I understand the point of most of this. Unless it's just one more thing they're doing to confuse us."

Oh, if he'd only knew. Miku straightened up slightly and put her hands up to the sides of her head to help give him a visual. "Cat ears, I hope," she replied in her quiet voice. It wasn't cheerful or bright, despite her best efforts. But that was okay for today. She flapped her hands open and closed and brought them back to the table, picking up a piece of black felt. "I didn't have anything better to do, so." She missed her boyfriend and was repressing it by working on crafts.

Miku was sure there was some horrible psychological name for what she was doing, and was glad she didn't know it. "What about you? You're all wet." She dropped her big eyes back to the table to start punching holes in the fabric so she could piece the ears together.

Yukito only laughed and shrugged a little, pushing the container away and sorting through the rest of what the nurse had left for him to work with. "Sometimes what other people consider 'silly' can be a lot of fun," he observed, picking up one of the googly eyes from its packet and shaking it a little. "Though...to be honest, I'm not quite sure just what they're expecting us to do here."

Art projects weren't exactly the kind of thing he went in for, usually. Especially not art projects using these kinds of materials. Ururu would've liked it, he was certain. Maybe Sakura or her friends.

"I guess that crazy people like us need to make art to feel better." He slid a sheet of paper over toward himself and began folding it, almost idly. "I'm Tsukishiro Yukito, by the way. Nice to meet you."

Howl found it impossible not to follow Ryuuzaki's advice to not choose a location too far away. The nurses kept him on a short leash, and it was beginning to fray his nerves. He had snapped at this most recent one for treating him like a child, and then immediately regretted it. She seemed no worse off for it, but Howl was in no hurry to face disciplinary actions.

However, any such cautionary instincts went out the window when Howl could find no rulers. Presumably because he might somehow inadvertently skewer himself with it. But with Howl's face twisted and flushed from frustration, the nurse he questioned seemed more concerned that he might intentionally skewer someone else. It was nearly all that he could handle, and honestly, Howl thought he had handled quite a bit that day. His behavior had been admirable, despite being kidnapped and then told he was either insane or in some twisted inter-dimensional catch-all. He might even say he had bordered on saintly.

"This is an embarrassing charade! Atrocious! With staff of this caliber, it's no wonder that your charges are pictures of mental health!" He called dramatically after the nurse, who, as anyone dealing with a child on the edge of a tantrum would do, mostly ignored him. Howl decided to return the favor, and violently pulled out a pair of scissors and something colorful in a plastic package. He took all of his frustration out on the packaging, until he had produced a flimsy length of plastic with a perfectly straight edge. Next, a black marker assisted him in laying out measurements as accurately as he could manage.

Being meticulous while making still sure everyone who glanced at him realized how unfairly, cruelly and inhumanely you were being treated was difficult, but somehow Howl managed it. He was practically seething over every centimeter.

[Free, but kind of in a snit.]

The shove sent Lelouch stumbling back a pace or two, but even though it was tempting to simply fall back into his seat after that because he was just so tired of this shit, he forced himself to stay upright. He could collapse into his seat once Suzaku had left, but right now, he just had to get rid of him so he would-- honestly, what was so difficult to understand? Protecting Euphy couldn't be that complicated a concept, could it?

Straightening his clothes with exaggerated care, he glanced down at his in progress crane because he simply couldn't help himself (even if he folded a thousand, his wish would never come true, would it?), tried taking a calming breath (it didn't work), and asked in the same distant tone, "Have I been stripped of my status as well, then? That's a surprise. I wasn't aware it took a knight to make a prince-- or princess."

Another brief look at Suzaku's face, then Lelouch was turning away, making a minute adjustment to his chair's position and rather obviously considering returning to hit. Last night had not been easy on him, and exhaustion was a poor complement to his current mood. He wanted to sit down, but-- what the hell was Suzaku waiting to hear? An apology? An explanation? Both? He was getting neither, whatever the case. Lelouch couldn't talk about that right now, even if-- no, he was doing Suzaku a favor. He had intended to stop lying to him, but it was just-- not about this.

"You weren't doing anything wrong, if that's what you're asking," he continued, hands clenching on the back of his chair. Maybe if he leaned on it-- "And I do. That's why-- surely you've no complaints now. I'm not forcing you to choose, after all, and Euphy needs you more than I. You can recognize that nothing we do will matter if the chain of events is altered before we even return, can't you?" That made it sound alarmingly like he was only ordering Euphy's safety so that he could inflict a worse fate upon her later in her timeline, but if that was what it took to make Suzaku look after her-- he couldn't see her hurt again, not after what had happened before all of this. Not Euphy.

Jamie shifted uncomfortably and ducked his head a little at the comment about "crazy people" - now that he had a constant voice in his head, the whole asylum situation seemed just a little too appropriate - and set to fitfully straightening the paper on the table, prodding its edges into precise alignment. "Uh - yeah, guess so." He half-grinned again, though it looked a little more like a grimace. "Jamie Hemeros. Nice to meet you too."

His smile quirked as she mimed the cat ears. She was...well, she wasn't his type (even if he were single), but she was cute. In the cuddle and pat your head kind of way.

Still, her voice was completely devoid of cheer, and Peter had to wonder if she actually saw her friend go, or if she only heard about it later. Either way, she was feeling it. This Miku wasn't anything like the chipper girl he'd met on the bus yesterday. Peter probably seemed about the same. Felt about the same. "Something's always better than nothing," he agreed quietly. "Are you making them for yourself?"

He blinked at her question, dumbfounded for a moment until a wet strand of hair fell and stuck to his forehead. "Oh - yeah, they made me take a shower." The clump was brushed behind his ear, and Peter made a note to ask about getting a hair cut soon. To his great shame, he always looked a little girly when it got too long. He noticed it even more now since he'd met Jessica. Having a girl clone made a guy nervous about that stuff. "This lady was trying to teach me how to finger paint earlier and we wound up having a paint fight. Not sure I'm still allowed to be in here, actually..." He cast a dubious look around the room.

Edited 2009-08-23 02:01 (UTC)

The reaction had been noticed and noted - Yukito was only completely oblivious about certain matters, and this didn't fit at all into that category. His expression didn't change, though, still the same genuine-looking friendly smile as he picked up a pair of scissors and began clipping away shapes from the folded paper.

"So how long have you been here, Jamie-san?" he asked, attention apparently fixed on what he was working on. "It seems like they brought in some more people today, but I think I might have seen you around before. Am I right?"

"Uh...about a week, I think." Jamie continued obsessing over his stack of paper, far more interested in tidying it than making anything out of it. Wild Eagle seemed perplexed by this behavior as well, since Jamie could feel him mentally staring at him. "We had a trip into town right after I got here, and yesterday was my second time there, so."

He glanced over at Yukito, at his sincere smile, and was momentarily reminded of Kurt on the bus yesterday. "Um. How about you? 've you been here long?"

"Me? Oh..." Yukito paused for a moment, head tilting to one side as he counted the days. "Let's see - it would be my ten--twelfth day." He always had to remember to include the days he didn't remember, except in Yue's second-hand memories. But almost two weeks? That wasn't good.

He considered that for a moment, then mentally shrugged and went back to his careful cutting. "Mm, that was my second trip to town, too." And he was hard-pressed to say whether the night after was better or worse this time, all things considered. The zombies certainly had left fewer repercussions, from what he could see. "If they're going to be like that every time, that gives me even more reason to hope that I won't be here for a third one."

This wasn't a Company facility, Adam thought, as the nurse led him out of his room and down the hall. She didn't try to make small talk and neither did Adam. He watched her, made note of every turn they made, every door they passed, committing it all to memory. If this was a Company facility, he reasoned, it was one that had been instituted in the last thirty years. Not an inconsiderable feat, judging by the size of what he'd seen so far, but not an impossible one, with the resources the Company held.

The nurse, Janet, stopped in front of a door, opened it and ushered Adam inside. He looked over the room, round tan tables were scattered across it, people seated at some of them. The rooms occupants were as diverse as the lives Adam himself had lived. Were these all Specials, held here for one reason or another? How long had he been unconscious? Ten minutes, ten days, ten weeks? Were these people who had been rounded up in the aftermath of the virus, or just people being held by the Company? He'd never heard of a facility that held people like this, and again his thoughts touched on the only place he could think of that would be laid out in such a manner, complete with a room like this one.

Cutting into his thoughts, Janet dictated to him that he was here for some kind of expressive art therapy and pulled out a chair, indicating that he should sit. Adam complied with the directive, mind whirling with possibility. He needed more information - he could only observe now, decisions were for later when he'd learned a little more. There was paper in front of him, and a motley assortment of markers (red, yellow, two greens and a black) lay in front of him. Janet smiled at him and left, leaving him with instructions to have a good time and that she'd be back for him later.

Adam picked up a sheet of paper and began to fold, letting his mind wander as his hands went through the familiar motions.

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Day 43: Arts & Crafts Room (4th Shift)

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