Day 43: Intercom, Evening

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

Hello! I.R.I.S. here once more to announce to you, our honored guests, that you have officially made it through a day of our typical Landel's treatment. Of course, it isn't quite over: we will now have you retire to our designated patient quarters with one of your agency partners to inspect their sleeping area and the tools that we provide them with for the true bulk of our behavioral testing. On an added note, we would like you to notice once again that the meals we provide to our subjects are of the highest quality.

For those of you feeling apprehensive about taking part in our more intensive methods, please be aware that we would never imagine putting all of you in any danger whatsoever. This last shift will be your last at our Institute; afterward, we will escort you to our Head Doctor's personal observation station to survey some of our test Next-Wave participants in the rigorous trials we put them through – all for their betterment, of course.

Once again, we hope that you are satisfied with what you find, and as always, direct any questions you may have to your console.

The nurses began to escort the patients to their rooms. They didn't even seem to be brought to awareness by words such as "testing" and "subjects."

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. (Find all of the newly changed room assignments and shift introductions here.) If you are introducing your character during this shift, you may either choose for them character to wake up before their roommate gets back, or after. ]

Comments

F32

[sheisthecause.livejournal.com]

Meche was trying hard not to look as restless as she felt on the way back to her room. She must've been doing a pretty bad job of it, though, because the nurse put a hand on her arm to still her and asked if she was feeling all right; she seemed jumpy; did she want to take something to help her sleep? Meche did not want to take anything to help her sleep. She'd run through a lot of emotions over the last week and a half, most of them lousy, but this was the first time she could remember actually feeling excited.

She hadn't shut this place down in that time, but that was probably to be expected. It had taken Manny and the LSA four years to bring down Hector's operation. But at least she'd really make some progress tonight: she was going to learn how to fight. Pretty soon, she wouldn't have to worry about holding anyone back--in fact, she would be right up there on the front line with Senna and the others. The thought felt good. Best of all, Manny would be coming back--soon, maybe even tomorrow. Even the worst parts of last night seemed to matter a lot less when she reminded herself of that.

Meche took her dinner tray over to her desk and started eating as quickly as she could. She wanted to check in with Donna as soon as she arrived, and then to be ready to go as soon as the doors unlocked. She had a really good feeling about tonight.

Re: F32

[mateswithnobody.livejournal.com]

Donna felt that she hadn't done much during the day, mostly because she hadn't. That was, however, not her fault since she hadn't expected to go from turning out zombies left and right to completely accidentally giving her nurse what for when she awoke in her bed. Despite hearing something about a "bad dream", Donna had still earned herself a quick sedation and both scolding and apologetic words before her day became a blur.

What she had managed to do was get a few words in on the bulletin board, though how much of those went noticed was another matter. She was pretty sure the Batman nonsense had been torn down, which was all she really cared to follow. Something that continued to entertain her in this dreary place. She felt that she should go check in on the Bruce Wayne she'd met and see what he thought about all of it, but given that she didn't know much about the man other than his name (and what... company he kept), finding him would probably be a bit difficult.

Getting a very unwanted assist from the nurse into the room, Donna gave the woman a face before looking to her roommate with the best smile she cold manage. "Not a zombie, are you?" she asked, trying for some humor. Donna had gotten bitten herself but was so far free of any desires to eat people. She had to wonder if Meche had suffered any PDAs herself last night.

M23

[poolcuemurder.livejournal.com]

Venom wanted to say this day was a productive one, but what had been accomplished, aside from gaining a headache and too many questions he couldn't answer? It might have been too much to ask for all of the answers within the first 24 hours, but he had honestly been used to having files upon files of information on everything. Being left in the dark this way, in an unknown location, in an unknown time, was...

His head hurt. Nurse was not helping.

"Vincent," she said in a whiny tone as they walked to where he could only assume his cell was the night before, "please stop looking so dour! It isn't so bad being here, you know. I know it can feel like a prison and be restricting, but... think of it this way: you don't have to stress over work. You can spend time on yourself!" She chuckled. Stop it, woman. Stop talking. Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking. "Give your mind some time to refresh itself! Ha! I wish I could do the same. My sister? And, this is between us, she's a pregnant mess. I've been having to listen to her jabber on for months-"

"I can't even imagine how that feels."

"-and all she does it complain about how hard everything is!"

This is why he never practiced sarcasm. It never worked. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Well!" She stopped him in front of door M23 and handed him a tray. Staring at her like he wished to divine some reason as to why she was so annoying did not have a high probability of working. "This is it. Your roommate should be here soon, so try to get along and at least make one friend, okay?" He moved back when she attempted to pat him on the shoulder, took his earlier confiscated journal out of her hands, and ducked into the room, closing the door before she could say anything else.

Nurses may not like difficult patients, but he would give up the Guild before listening to her for one more minute. There was something about women that he just found himself cursed with. Millia was a likely source of this anger (but Millia was a likely source for all of his anger).

With a sigh, the assassin moved to the bed and sat down. Since no one was here, it didn't matter if he briefly pulled his hair from his face to eat something (though the intercom's constant reminders that it was a high quality made him wary. If they were trying to brainwash him...) in between writing things down. There had to be something he could puzzle out before night came...

Re: M23

[onefellbeast.livejournal.com]

Dinner was once again dutifully ignored, the food served doing little to awaken Takasugi's appetite. He knew he would have to consume more than he currently was, already feeling the patient's garb they had given him falling loose around his hips.

One of the nurses insisted on helping him all the way to his room, keeping an arm around his waist as she comfortingly told him that his wounds would heal within time. He simply tolerated it to avoid making a scene, relying on others to do that for him. He wasn't the type to lash out so violently at those who possessed no threat to him outside of being a source for occasional annoyance, not when he had larger targets in mind.

The door to his room swung open, and he crossed the doorway inside, pausing for a bit as he beheld his new roommate. He hadn't expected the old one to have been replaced so fast, but it proved that death here was a permanent state as he had initially suspected. The monk's body had most likely been left back in that town. Not that it mattered much to himself. Takasugi certainly wasn't going to lament his absence.

After all, he had been the one to take his life and had cleaned his side of the room of its remaining possessions, things he would keep for himself. It wasn't much, but it provided him with some sort of defense.

Moving towards his own bed, he continued to stare at his new roommate, taking in the unusual hair that did well to hide his face and hide his thoughts from Takasugi. As someone who excelled at reading people, he would have to rely on other cues to dissect him. Judging on body type alone, he must have been a fighter in his world -one who killed for leisure? Killed for pay? Killed to protect? What were those intentions of his ...Takasugi was already eager to learn.

"A new roommate already," he finally remarked, his head cocking to the side as he grinned.

M103

[from-lienea.livejournal.com]

It was a big relief to know that Leon was okay; Stahn could breathe a little easier, knowing that. He'd forgotten to ask what their plans were tonight, but that didn't really matter--it could wait.

It was kind of depressing to be back in his room--more like his cell--but, well, it was still better than the night before. Stahn had to shudder a little at the memory; he wasn't great with zombies either, even when he wasn't practically unarmed and very badly outnumbered.

He was seriously not sure what to think of the changed announcements, but there wasn't anything he could do about them, and it was dinnertime. For now, Stahn simply sat down to eat.

F30

[innovator-skuld.livejournal.com]

Skuld stormed into the room and flung herself down on her bed, fists clenched and tears threatening. When she got her powers back...!

She still couldn't believe they'd done that to Urd. To Urd. Belldandy shouldn't have let it happen either, but she could see it--Onee-sama always was too kind, too trusting. But Urd? She never should have fallen for whatever this place had done to her.

If Landel isn't already dead, I'll make him wish he was--!

Re: F30

[rely-upon.livejournal.com]

Sherry was taken into a new room she was sure she'd seen before, while her nurse smiled warmly at her. "Aggie," the nurse began, "I want you to become good friends with your new roommate, okay? Dalia, you behave nicely too," she added and left the girls alone. Sherry crossed her arms and cocked her head to the side.

The girl had... really long hair, as far first impressions went. Sherry herself was starting to feel a little funny. Like her stomach ache was on its way to returning. Logically, Sherry knew it was probably because she'd eaten very little all day, and while she didn't particularly like steak, she did like French fries. She sat down at her desk and at her meal while she watched the girl curiously. "Your food will get cold, if you don't eat it," Sherry pointed out and nibbled on a fry.

M6

[world-makeover.livejournal.com]

This had been a most annoying day. He'd been dragged away from Jade and herded to another one of the white rooms; he was told on the way there that he would be sleeping in said room for the duration of his stay at the Institute, and that over dinner he would have the chance to get to know his roommate.

Imagine! The beautiful Dist being forced to share a bedroom! He made his displeasure known in the most grating way possible, but his concerns were dismissed with a wave of a hand and a forced smile. He tried the doorknob after the woman left and found it locked, so he kicked the door a couple times and moved to one of the beds to sulk and pick through the food he'd been given. Hopefully his roommate wouldn't object to which bed Dist had left him.

Not that Dist could be persuaded to move even if he did.

Re: M6

[dasgift.livejournal.com]

Ah, the wonders of family. One moment, they pined for his attention. The next, they threw up a rather lackluster display of appearing self-sufficient. Honestly, that boy. Ruining a potentially fulfilling evening of psychological torture.

Speaking of potentials, an unfamiliar man at a rather familiar end of the room caused the ex-attorney to tilt an eyebrow upon entry. Instead of raising a fuss, however, he simply crossed over to the other bed, a strange smile touching his lips.

"Good evening," he greeting. "You must be...the roommate."

M29

[catstreetblues.livejournal.com]

Today had certainly been productive: he'd gotten a lot of information - some interesting and some flat out disturbing. Obviously what worried him most was Minamimoto, but he was also interested in what the intercom had to say. From the sounds of things, people were going to be observing them at night while they underwent - "trials", was it? Yeah, trials for their own betterment.

Sanae snorted as he dug into his dinner. Like that didn't sound familiar. Sounded like a vamped-up Game to him - and that made two he'd involved himself in here.

But the mystery of I.R.I.S had to wait for later; right now he had to think of Joshua's safety and Minamimoto's neutralization first. The barista glanced expectantly toward the door. He needed to talk to Jiraiya pronto; hopefully the older man wouldn't take too long to show up.

M4

[liveforthispart.livejournal.com]

Well that had been... embarrassing. Seriously. Ji-Ji? What the hell was that supposed to be? The last thing he needed was some girl bawling all over him for being mean, but he sure as hell hoped she wasn't planning on calling him shit like that in public.

Kanji fumed to himself in grumbling mutters as his nurse took him back to the room he was supposed to be sharing with someone. You know, it was starting to get to the point where he thought he maybe preferred running around bashing monsters in the face all night to the stupid mess he had to deal with during the day. Ugh.

Though when he got there the room was... empty. Well, so far. There was food laid out for the other guy. Guess Kanji just got there first. Whoopie. He sat himself at his desk and started shoveling food into his mouth. He still had no idea what was going to happen tonight or what he should be doing. But he'd worry about that when he wasn't on an empty stomach.

Re: M4

[feartehreaper.livejournal.com]

By the time Haseo reached his room, the residual emotions from the time spent talking to "Tansy" and "Gregor" had been mostly tucked away under the exterior of general sullenness, and the need for him to be half-pulled along by an orderly like some sort of wavemarked and overgrown warrior child had been mostly put aside.

However, cheerful this Rogue was not.

Once he was in the room and the locking click had been sounded, he leaned against the door and sighed heavily, raking a hand through the hair framing his face. He could only hope that tonight would be similar to his first, in that instead of immediately having to fight, he'd be able to think and talk to his friends first before heading out- if they did so at all. He wasn't sure he could stand not working out what had happened so far.

Then he saw the food, and Kanji eating it, and decided the talk on the intercom was apparently right- the staff of Landel's Institute for the Undead vs. Internet Addicts must have thought it pretty amusing to run them through the trials of fending off zombies and then present them with chunks of meat while the threat of the same thing or similar happening again very soon loomed over their heads.

He wasn't very interested. Instead, he chose to utilize his closet, only throwing a brief glance at the other young man deemed his "roommate" again before tearing into the fixture. The clothes were useless and only got thrown aside, but it was more a relief than he would have easily admitted to find the sword Leon had made still there and-- huh.

There was a knife too, and after a long moment Haseo slowly realized that it was the same one he'd taken from the grocer the night before. Weird. Maybe worth mentioning too, if he could manage to start a conversation.

"So... what do you think of being in the room of death?" he asked blandly, studying the blades and turning. He thought that surely the guy had noticed the room number too- apparently the people "in charge" of Landel's layout weren't tetraphobic (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetraphobia)... or more probable, found that amusing as well.

F13

[jokers-wildcard.livejournal.com]

Talk about a good day. It was so strange considering last night. It was starting to seem like whenever something got her down, something came right along and perked her back up good as new. This just proved she couldn't let stupid things bug her and that she really didn't have anything to worry about in a place like this.

Aaand she had plans for tonight. And a playmate. As long as the place wasn't going to get flooded with zombies again, this could turn out to be fun! If all went well anyway.

Harley sat down, cross-legged in her chair, and pushed the meat aside. She was a little hungry by this point, but she had a promise to keep. She'd have to save it for now. So she decided to concentrate on her french fries, ripping open a ketchup packet and worked on making a big smiley face pattern on her fries. Might as well start the night off right.

Re: F13

[per-ardua.livejournal.com]

...and her roommate was still here. Wonderful. Raine managed not to sigh and just went to sit down; hopefully, Harley wouldn't mention the post on the board. Or worse, seeing me with Valyn...

The girl seemed reasonably occupied, decorating her food much like a toddler would, so Raine did her best to ignore her as she started eating.

M26

[vayu-pavana.livejournal.com]

Gale allowed himself to be lead to his 'designated patient quarters' without so much as a word, but overly critical eyes scrutinized the nurse the entire way. He made note of doors and hallways, laying out a rudimentary map in his mind of the areas and things he's seen since waking up in this so called institute.

Leaving Argilla was the last thing he had wanted to do, the tribe needed to stay together. But for now he'll comply, rolling the things she told him over in his head. They only raised more questions, gave him no real answers. She has been here longer, and he trusted her.

He eyed the food, unsure exactly what it was. It seemed to be meat of some kind, though he's never encountered it cooked before. Gale picked up one of the strange, yellow sticks and looked it over, then dropped it back on the plate. He was hungry, but he had no interest in food like this.

Especially after terms like " behavioral testing" and "rigorous trials" were being so casually used.

Re: M26

[ryuuzaki]

The nurse caught at L as he walked away from his conversation with Bruce Wayne. "Come on, Daniel... back to your room for dinner, now." Smiling, she seemed determined to lead him back to the room; the orderlies nearby would enforce it, if necessary. He saw no reason not to cooperate -- rather, he saw no specific, concrete advantage to rebellion, at this point. For the moment, under such strictures, a pretense of being a model patient seemed like the best plan.

Daniel?

This must be what was meant by the suggestion that we take note of our names and room numbers. He pondered who he might tell; as yet, there was no one he trusted enough to consider an ally. Perhaps Matt, perhaps Lunge -- but he would have to arrange meetings to tell them. This was not information that he wanted to put on the bulletin board.

"Who is Daniel?" he asked the nurse.

She gave him a sharp look: You've been no trouble at all, Sugar -- are you going to start with me now? "You are, Mr. Laurier. Don't you remember? No? Your doctor can help you with that. I'll have to mark it on your chart."

"It is common for people to forget?"

"If you remembered, you wouldn't be here."

As he allowed her to lead him, he thought about what Bruce had told him about I.R.I.S. The system was not the status quo of announcements here; although the bulletins were presumably at the same times, every few hours, they were not at all in keeping with Dr. Landel's usual style.

There is also a suggestion that we are being observed by outside entities, for some reason, and that they have been members of the patient population today. If it is true, I would think that Lunge might be one of those people -- except that he was here last night, and provided a valuable transcript of events. Also, he seems as intent on an investigation as I am.

The others... I am familiar with Amane, and anyway, "Robin" mentioned her being here before I saw her; she was herself, and she was not a new arrival today. He was wounded last night, so he is unlikely to be a visitor -- otherwise, they both might be. In all of these cases, last night's events might have been manufactured to better fit with the patient population... but none of them seemed to be new here. That leaves Howell, I suppose, and he expected to be here later tonight, which suggests that he is also a patient. The other option is that some elements have been manufactured... the wound, the transcript, the expectation -- it seems unlikely...? No, pointless. Then, the idea struck him. I might have been one of the visitors... but I am not. I would never have consented to come here at this time, not when I am so close to an answer in Tokyo.

She led him down the corridor, past a door on his right and through another, then, a little later, there was a right turn into a smaller hallway, and another. His room was the fifth on the left.

[1/2]

M108

[sewenteen-sir.livejournal.com]

"Well Victor, wasn't that an exciting day?"

Chekov wouldn't have called it 'exciting', per se, but it was indeed full of incident. New information, meeting new and different people... apparently the mission of the Enterprise could live on, even without the ship itself. This certainly was a strange world, and its inhabitants didn't exactly come from it. So really, it was like exploring a million different worlds through story-telling.

He'd nearly forgotten all about the stars. He still wanted to look at them, but between meeting Kirk and Spock, and them running around and doing whatever the Commander thought was best, the chances of him getting a look at the sky were slim at best.

"Here you are, Victor," his nurse said cheerfully, opening a door marked 'M108'. Ah, so that was his room number.

"Pavel," Chekov corrected automatically. "Zough I prefer--"

"Yes, yes," his nurse said wearily, setting down his food. "Your roommate should be along in a moment, dear. Have a good night."

The young ensign shifted uncomfortably in the strange surroundings, realizing that someone was going to share the room with him. Someone he didn't actually know. Well, he'd done well for himself so far, this shouldn't be so difficult.

Shouldn't be, at least...

[gundamned.livejournal.com]

Preparations for the mission ahead had been on Setsuna's mind as the end of the day neared. A few items should be in hand, including a lock pick and his journal (for any possible note-taking), as well as a weapon in case they encounter some unexpected opposition.

But the announcement made him pause for a while, blink, and send a questioning glance at the nurse beside him. In response, she simply smiled and said, "It's all part of making everyone here get better, of course. Oh! Look, here's your room."

He glanced at the number of his room: M108. He should commit it to memory, even if it would be the last time he would be using it. If all goes well later on, he and Feldt would be able to gather enough information about this peculiar institute and even contact Celestial Being. Hopefully, everything would have simply been a mishap and they would be able to clarify things on their end and return to the Ptolemaios, but if it wasn't the case then he and Feldt would simply have to escape.

For a moment he was reminded of the drawing on his note in the bulletin board. Lockon Stratos? But he died, Setsuna witnessed his death with his own eyes. It must be someone else from Celestial Being, but he would have to wait until later to know who this person was.

Someone else knows about Celestial Being, he also reminded himself. That person who asked whether CB was in reference to a person or an institution. He would have to observe more caution from now on.

"Go on now, Soran," the nurse told him, a smile of forced encouragement on her face.

He frowned and stepped inside, and sure enough someone else was already present. He gave the other occupant a passing glance before walking to his bed and taking a seat, silent all the while.

M96

[godforsaken]

"Stephen! I will not tolerate the kind of behavior you portrayed in front of your own brother! What were you thinking? I-"

Sync had only been vaguely aware that his nurse was scolding him, though in the end he didn't bother to put forth the effort to listen. It didn't matter to him if these people disapproved of his actions, and he certainly wasn't going to stop if the opportunity sprung up again. His only regret was that he didn't finish the job. That may have been the only time where he had a chance with conditions as good as these.

The God-General scowled, though the sedatives had done a good job watering down these emotions. He had somewhat of a hard time following the latter as she led him down the halls, but he tried his best to remain composed regardless. Thankfully, it wasn't long before they finally reached his room, and he didn't protest when his nurse guided him to his bed.

Sync didn't really care what the nurses were serving him for dinner, collapsing rather clumsily into the mattress and allowing his body to finally rest.

Re: M96

[falseblack]

Just as the swelling and the migraine reduced, pain ate away at his right side of his chest. The nurses would provide something, they had explained, except pain medication and their brand of sedatives couldn't mix. Especially for a twelve-year-old. Especially for him. He'd been too sensitive to the latter.

They did offer another ice pack, which the child accepted in hopes they wouldn't badger him about dinner. Whatever they were serving looked too much like last night, only neatly cut up and covered in...something. Something unappetizing. The woman appeared understanding, fortunately, and bade her farewell.

"Good night," she said. "Take care not to disturb Stephen's sleep." She closed the door.

Nigredo glanced warily at the body on the other end of the room. The older boy seemed out of it. He didn't have to venture far to guess why.

M97

[mister-fine.livejournal.com]

Apollo wondered how long he'd have to keep listening to that I.R.I.S. system before someone who was living and breathing took over again. At least hearing a human voice wouldn't make the situation sound so...cold and hopeless. Whenever he heard the automated messages, it made him think Landel's just might keep operating forever, until nurses and patients alike rotted, and the walls of the building were crumbling from old age.

Yeah, that did wonders for his appetite, all right.

"Try not to look so serious, Mr. Fine," his nurse tried to soothe him.

The lawyer glanced toward her with a faintly apologetic smile. "Um, it's Justice." She gave a small shake of her head.

"I suppose yesterday's bus ride might have been a little too exciting for you," she sighed. "You were doing so well yesterday morning with the way you kept saying your name to me."

That was me telling you I wasn't sick, he inwardly griped. Can't say I don't feel a little queasy right now, though.

Still, not for the first time, Apollo wondered if she was a victim in all this as much as he was. Being held hostage and having the right mind to do everything you could to find a way out, with no guarantee for success, versus being held hostage and staying blissfully oblivious to it -- Apollo wasn't sure which was better, to be honest. The need to discover the truth took the highest priority in his mind, but, on the other hand, some part of Apollo sort of wished he had it in him to look and act as genuinely happy as some of the nurses seemed to be. It was kind of a surreal sight in a place like this.

When she left him to eat his dinner, he couldn't help but notice that Aya hadn't arrived yet. Trying to quell the small jolt of panic that coursed through him, Apollo took a small breath and cut into his steak. He hoped nothing had happened to him.

Re: M97

[briar-thorns.livejournal.com]

If he, or anyone, was able to get by in Landel's without something happening that would truly be some sort of feat. Aya would just have to count his blessings in the fact that he wasn't dead. Injured, dealing with a broken team, a straining mind trying to cope and come up with something worth attempting and the fact that the one person he never wanted to know about this place was in the worst of its clutches, these things he was.

But as long as he wasn't dead or incapacitated he could do something. That's all that mattered.

The nurse led him away from Yohji and the third conflicting conversation of the day and took him back to his room. He was mildly surprised to see Apollo there, given that they hadn't since the first time they parted.

"Oh, Mr. Fine," Aya's nurse, that damnable woman greeted him while steering him into the room. Aya was getting used to moving with the sedatives still high in his system but it was frustrating at the least. Frustrating when he managed to get enough of a grip to care about it. "Kevin's had a bit of an exciting day. His sister came to visit! So he's a little tired, but he's behaving well again."

Aya only shook his head, he jerked his uninjured arm out of her grasp and stalked to his side of the room. "Get some rest, Kevin! And eat you're dinner. It's steak!" the nurse chirped this along with a farewell to Apollo and left the two to their own devices. Did the nurses even leave this place? Did anyone? The town was nothing but a sham...

[ooc: everything should be fixed now. Sorry for the delay!]

[forgot-my-life.livejournal.com]

"Honestly, I can't imagine what you were thinking. That little fit cost you the whole day young man and now it's time for dinner and bed and you didn't get a chance to see any of your friends." Takaya was ignoring his nurse, infavor of glares and flipping her off, which certainly didn't help matters. With an exasperated sigh, the woman all but threw him into his room and slammed his food down on the desk with a command to eat it all or else.

Seems like he was finally getting under their skin. He sat down on his bed, ignoring the food for now.

[dawn-rune.livejournal.com]

Frey wasn't sure how to face Takaya, after how they'd woken up this morning. Maybe the strange announcements had something to do with why the usual transportation back to their rooms had gone so wrong, or maybe it was because of the distance involved, but waking up in the same bed as his touch-phobic roommate had given Frey quite a start. He'd all but bolted from the room, and now he was regretting that response. What if Takaya was angry or felt slighted somehow?

M7

[lighthearted]

All of Sora's concerns about Joshua were nearly chased away when the boy made sure to check the bulletin before dinner and found that someone had responded to his message -- and not just any someone, but Hitsugaya. He was back! Well, he was sort of back, anyway. He had no memories and he probably wouldn't even be able to recognize Sora, but it was extremely relieving for Sora to know that he would soon be seeing him again.

In fact, it made the knowledge that Renji had died a little easier to bear, too. He could also come back someday -- the memories would be gone, but at least he would be alive. Sora made a note of how this felt to think back on if another close friend of his ever lost their life to this place in the future. (He didn't like to assume that it would happen again, but he knew he had to be realistic.)

In any case, it looked like he would be meeting up with the shinigami tonight -- come to think of it, he had to wonder if Hanatarou had heard the news yet. He probably had, but that just meant that Sora had his roommate to talk to about it while he waited for night to fall! He knew it was weird to be looking forward to night coming, but this was a special case.

The boy rushed back to his room, eager to see the meal that was waiting for him. For once he was the first one to make it there, and so he didn't waste any time before sitting down and digging in.

M7

[mitase.livejournal.com]

Dinnertime meant that the night was even closer, and that made Hanatarou nervous. Well, even more nervous than usual, since tonight was going to be a little different than others he'd spent since coming to this place, and he only hoped that he wouldn't completely mess everything up.

He was in no hurry to return to his room, as though dragging his feet would somehow delay the onset of the night, so by the time he arrived he found Sora already there and eating dinner. The healer managed a nod and a small smile in greeting, relieved to see that Sora was there at all, after the night before. He'd replied on the bulletin earlier, but actually seeing him was different. "Um, hello, Sora-san...how are you feeling?"

His own dinner tray he examined without much interest; his stomach was all tied up in nervous knots that prevented him from feeling terribly hungry at all. But if he was going to be out and about tonight, he really did need to eat something in order to keep his strength up.

M24

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Peter wasn't one-hundred percent sure if he'd made Roland's time in the Sun Room any easier, but he figured that when someone was suffering like that they probably wanted some company. At the same time, he knew what it was like when you were feeling so crappy that you just wanted people to leave you the hell alone. Still, Roland hadn't really given off that impression, so it was probably all right.

He wasn't sure how to feel about Heat, though. While he felt bad for Roland on an empathetic level, he also was relieved that the cannibal's presence wouldn't be such a point of tension between them anymore. Even if Heat had had some sort of uncontrollable anger, that didn't necessarily excuse going after an innocent girl and biting a piece out of her.

Right now he had more pressing things to consider, though. He wanted to see for himself how Sam was doing, eat his dinner, and then get ready to meet up with Nathan tonight. It would be nice to have a more "normal" night with his brother, though Peter wasn't ready to believe that everything was fine just yet, especially with that weird computerized system still making the announcements.

Even though he'd slept in some, it had still been a long day, what with seeing his mother and all, and so Peter found himself releasing a sigh once he made it back to his room. Sam wasn't there yet, so he took his time moving over to his desk and collapsing into the chair. The steak looked surprisingly good, he had to admit, and so Peter grabbed for his knife and fork and started to cut the piece of meat into bite-sized pieces.

[boyking]

Leaving the waiting room, Sam realized that he still knew nothing about this Michael, this guy who showed up out of nowhere and seemed to know him in a way that he couldn't ignore. It was...unsettling. Which was probably the point, but.

And that whole thing about Dean being resurrected two weeks earlier than expected? That didn't really help, either.

At least he had a warning. For whatever that was worth. Though he knew he should check it out, as well. Confirm it, somehow, because taking Michael at his word wasn't something Sam was inclined to do, despite the fact that instinct told him Michael wasn't lying. That no matter how much he wanted to deny everything the man had said, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that there was something he was missing. Something Michael knew that Sam didn't.

He rubbed the corner of his eye with one hand and pushed the door open with the other. Peter was there already. Sam couldn't decide if this was a blessing of a distraction or something he just didn't want to deal with at the moment. He'd figured out by now that though polite, Peter also had a tendency to question, and it was actually his politeness that was the problem. There was no way for Sam to just shoot him down without looking like a jackass. Especially not after last night, which made Sam feel like he owed his roommate more than just answers. Answers that were probably long overdue at this point.

But being alone with his thoughts might not be the best plan, either. If they talked about last night, he wouldn't mind. Right now, zombies were preferable to—well, everything. So long as the bite on his arm didn't start turning him, anyway. That would seriously be a real last straw there.

He slid into his seat. "Hey," he said, deciding that segueing directly into, Thanks for the rescue or, How'd you find your brother, right away might be a little awkward.

[whiny-egomaniac.livejournal.com]

Starscream slid into his room with quiet resignation. The events of the last night still haunted him... not so much because of the circumstances of the events, but because of his own conduct. Me, a lauded Decepticon, second-in-command of their vast armies... frightened by decomposing flesh-creatures? Even with that weapon - and here the Decepticon broke from his train of thought, ducked low next to his bed, and sighed in relief to find the large branch still covered by a second set of bed-sheets - I could do nothing. I had to be rescued by that female... how deplorable. Starscream stood slowly, then turned and watched as one of the nurses slid out the table at the foot of his bed and placed his evening fuel supply upon it. The nurse muttered something about enjoying the meal, but Starscream knew that was out of the question. Still... the slab of animal muscle looked appetizing, and even those slivers of deep-fried potatoes caused his stomach to make a slight gurgle.

First things first, however... the Decepticon checked his desk drawer for the rudimentary items he'd need: flashlight and spare batteries, notebook, and map. Fine, all was ready. Opening the map and scanning carefully, he located an area that might be of interest if his mission tonight ended prematurely. For now, it seemed his expedition to locate the other items necessary for completing the black powder would have to be put on hold. With an exasperated sigh, he took seat upon the bed, taking up the flimsy fork and knife and beginning his meal.

M107

[vstheworld]

Scott's stomach was growling fiercely by the time he got back to his room. Had he been playing all night? Was it time for breakfast already? He couldn't tell. It was so easy to lose track of time playing games like this. It was a wonder that his butt wasn't sore from sitting in front of the TV for so long. Then again, his butt was pretty well-trained at sitting in one place for hours on end.

Man, I'm so hungry that the steak and fries actually smell real enough to eat, thought Scott, staring at the plate of food next to his bed and licking his lips. His stomach growled deeply and loudly; he could almost hear an "I HUNGER" down there as well.

Okay, that's it. Time to turn this thing off and get some freakin' food, though Scott decisively. He turned his head, expecting to look away from a screen and see Ramona's apartment behind him. No such luck. All he saw was the other side of the hospital room. He turned sharply in the other direction, but only succeeded in making his neck feel a little sore. C'mon Scott, you've got more will power than this! he told himself, reaching up to his head in an attempt to take off whatever headset he might be wearing in the real world. All he ended up doing was grabbing his own ears. Huh, maybe I don't, then, he thought, slumping a bit when his efforts proved useless. He was soon smiling again, however. Oh well. Keep playing, then! I'm sure Stomach will win over Mind eventually!

That steak and fries really did look good, but he knew that game food wouldn't fill him up. He left the plate alone, instead going to his closet. There he found more grey uniforms and other pieces of clothing hanging on the metal bar that Indiana Jones had told him he would find there. The clothes immediately went to the closet floor, and Scott started tugging on the bar. "Nnghhh! Hyyyeeeggghh!"

He kept pulling and pulling, but for whatever reason, he couldn't quite get the bar to budge. Maybe I haven't got the right set of pixels, he thought, moving over on the bar and trying to hang from it, hoping that that would do something more than just pulling. Eventually, he found himself hanging from the bar upside-down with both feet and hands on the bar. "Almost got iiiit— ACK!"

CRASH.

Scott found himself on top of his pile of clothes, the bar in both hands. "Owww, games aren't supposed to hurt this much . . ." he whined to himself.

Re: M107

[effusivegrace.livejournal.com]

As the intercom switched off, Dick bit back mouthing off at it. He really thought it would make him feel better but he wasn't about to jeapordise the change of a little recon. The 'intensive' methods sounded more promising as a lead, as well. At least he knew a lot more than he had when he had woken up, thanks to Alfred. As much as he hated to let him out of his sight while knowing he was in danger, he knew he could take care of himself and the quicker he got to the bottom of this then the quicker they could find Tim and they could get everyone out of here. He'd put up a note for him on the board tomorrow. There was also the question of Jason but Dick wasn't sure what to do about him. Since his unexpected return, he had caused havoc where ever he went but even Tim had believed in giving him a second chance or he wouldn't have freed him so he'd have to deal with him too.

Being shown back to his room with the likely-to-be-drugged food, he found himself looking at what he assumed was either a wanderer (not likely with the assumed set up) or a roommate, which was much more likely. The unusual thing about it was that he seemed to be sitting on a bunch of clothes and holding a piece of metal. Judging by the look on his face, he wasn't looking for a fight with it so that was something. He'd take what he could get. With raised eyebrows, Dick looked him over to see if he was injured. He didn't seem to be.

"Are you okay?" He asked, trying to keep the tone light. He didn't want to give away more than he had to, considering they - or should that be a They? - knew his name already and that was an advantage he didn't like at all.

M47

[faithful-frost.livejournal.com]

"Christopher, you've got to take better care of yourself." THe nurse was fluffing his pillows. Again. For what felt like the millionth time, but was really only the seventh. Haku had been counting and it was getting harder and harder to just not snap.

"Really, I'm fine." He tried a tired smile. "Just a bit tired."

"Well, if you get hungry dear, I've put your dinner right here by the bed, nice and covered so that it stays warm." Haku wanted to say that he was missing part of his throat, how did she expect him to eat, but he mostly just wanted her gone. Once she'd left,he lay back against the pillows and began to count.

Re: M47

[byname-bynature.livejournal.com]

"Now Sean," Artemis' nurse said, resting a hand on his shoulder as she guided him back to his room. "I know that you and Chris are very good friends, but he does need his rest. His injuries are very bad, so it would be best if you didn't bother him."

It didn't take a genius to see that, and Artemis was about to point this out, but decided that he didn't want to expend the energy. Besides, he was in a good mood having redeemed himself in the chess rematch against Brainiac 5. It was good to be the Grandmaster.

"Here we are, home sweet home~" his nurse sang. "Let's be quiet, just in case Chris is asleep, okay?"

Artemis nodded his assent, but he doubted that Haku would have fallen asleep when Artemis was returning to the room shortly. If anything, he wanted to assure Haku that he was alright so the ninja could rest properly.

He moved quietly into the room with his tray, the nurse shutting the door behind him with a small smile and a wave. Artemis tried not to think about how horrifying that would be if it were night. Instead, he set his tray down on his desk and approached Haku, sitting down on the far end of the bed.

"How are you feeling?"

M57

[deadlynoble.livejournal.com]

By the time the nurses had guided him back to his room, Ciel was already plenty annoyed. He wasn't sure how much more of their cooing and aww'ing he could endure, scowling until they lifted their hands away from his hair and ushered him into his room again.

The day hadn't been terribly eventful, compared to the prior night's events, though he suspected that the night would prove differently. He doubted they would be seeing those undead creatures again so soon, which made him wonder what the institute's creativity might produce. He certainly had no intention of waiting around to let it find him. He still had those patient files to obtain so he could start linking patients to their rooms and find out which one housed Grell Sutcliff. If he and Sebastian had received new names then it was more than likely he was also going by a different name.

In which case, Ciel might have to rely on physical description alone to pinpoint him. But would they have recorded his false day appearance? He needed those files to check, and he had a feeling they were being stored on the second floor.

Furthermore, he would have to check the surrounding grounds of the institute to verify if there were any other monsters being caged there. They obviously didn't roam free during the day, which made Ciel continuously wonder what happened to them. Could they have been summoned on a nightly basis? The irony of it... Fate always did have an interesting sense of humor.

Ciel snorted to himself as he made his way to his side of the room, planting his body on the edge of his bed and staring over at his roommate's side. That boy he had met his first night hadn't returned still, which meant he must have been killed -whether by those undead creatures or otherwise, he didn't know, but it left him uneasy. Hopefully he would be able to find Sebastian quickly tonight and avoid any unpleasant incidents.

Re: M57

[timeseal.livejournal.com]

IRIS?

Rolo's initial attempts at gathering information failed pathetically; the girl he attempted to speak to had run off already, going back to her jog or whatever it was she was doing previously. And he had to endure a lecture from his nurse about keeping up his health to manage his "condition", which was probably an attempt to distract him from the intercom announcement.

Tests...? Facility? The information was new to him, but the concept was not. If Rolo didn't know any better, he could have sworn he was returned somehow to the Geass Directorate. Such a thing was impossible though, since he destroyed that place, together with Lelouch... Lost in thought as he explored the many different possibilities on Lelouch's whereabouts (all which were grim), he was surprised when he found himself being ushered back into his room. Rolo eyed the place with a confused look, noting the lack of windows and the boy sitting on the bed before his nurse said something that would have otherwise sealed her death if she had been anywhere else in the world.

"I understand we just kind of threw you into all of this, Spike. So get some rest, and... Oh! Try to get along with Christian here. Your brother says that you have trouble making friends."

Rolo's eyes widened and he turned around quickly, trying to catch that woman and make her spit out what she knew about her brother. But without his Geass, even with his reflexes the nurse was nimble and was already closing the door on him before Rolo could even speak, grabbing the recently locked handle in vain.

"WAIT!"

Damnit! Without warning, Rolo rounded on the boy, eyes livid as he cursed his sudden limitation. Geass or not, he wanted some damn answers already!

"Where am I?!" The tone in Rolo's voice was quite sharp, as if he was implying a lack of an answer would lead to a swift death.

[ wow, late post is late T_T; sorry! ]

M9

[sir-savien.livejournal.com]

Testing, trials, Next-Wave...Kvothe frowned to himself as his nurse escorted him back to his room, when he looked at her she was looking ahead with one of those irritating blank smiles the nurses always seemed to have and didn't seem to have heard the announcement at all. He didn't bother asking. Like Tony's whereabouts, he was certain she'd just lie to him about it. He ignored her once she'd opened the door to his room, sitting down to eat his food with little interest. It occured to him that the knife he'd been holding may have been brought back with him, like his flashlight on other nights, but he didn't want to look until he was certain that no more nurses would be entering the room and Tsukasa wasn't back yet.

Re: M9

[cannotlogout.livejournal.com]

Tsukasa felt brighter after the piano lesson with Kaworu. It was a good feeling, to learn something new, especially in such a place as this. He wished he had a better way to thank the boy because words seemed a little trite. The nurses broke them apart far too quickly for Tsukasa's liking, guiding him back to his room where Kvothe was already settled. He smiled briefly at his roommate as he went to sit down, checking what they'd been given to eat. "Did you manage alright last night?"

F17

[wearsthehakama.livejournal.com]

Well, that had been a nice day, Kaoru decided with a little smile. Her roommate hadn't arrived yet, but that was fine; it would give her a few moments to herself, in the quiet, with her meal. The meal was once again almost hilariously alien, but Kaoru recognized good meat when she saw it and nibbled on the steak cheerfully.

Even if tonight would be a frightful ordeal, it wasn't here yet and she had plenty of time to enjoy herself. Kaoru hummed as she ate.

M27

[darwinism]

He didn't know how long he sat in the waiting room chair, staring at the door his mother had left through. It was only when he blinked that he realized tears had been gathering in his eyes and were now falling down his cheeks, though in truth, he wasn't sad. He was somewhere beyond that, now, somewhere cold, and dark, and unfeeling. He didn't resist when they grabbed him by the arm and took him out of the room; he didn't speak when they walked him down the hall, or when they pushed him into his quarters, or when they sat him at his desk and put a steaming pile of food in front of him. He didn't react when he heard the door close behind them.

He stared straight ahead at the wall over his bed before realizing his face was uncomfortably sticky. He brought up the back of his hand and wiped under his eyes, mechanically, before glancing down at the steak. He could see the watery puddle of blood and fat seeping out from under it.

He slammed his fist onto the top of the desk. His other arm swept across it, violently shoving the food aside and onto the ground below. A plate smashed, but Sylar could barely hear it over the sound of his pulling out the desk drawer, grabbing his journal, and opening it to a random page. He grabbed a pen and nearly pinned down the wad of paper with the force he used to write in it, tearing through the paper in his fervor.

I AM SYLAR

He did it again, and again, on the next page and the next. I AM NOT SORRY. I AM NOT AFRAID.

He wasn't. He wasn't either of those things, and he never would be. His mother was dead – had been for a long time – and what the hell did he care? A lot, a part of him said, but he ignored it, shoved it down. This woman wasn't his real mother. His real mother would have cared about him wanting to be special. She would have appreciated it. She would have understood. She would have loved him for it.

He knew he was lying, in his head and on the paper. But he didn't care. He couldn't care, because if he did, he wouldn't survive this. And he had to survive, outlast everyone else. It was his purpose.

It was his destiny.

Re: M27

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

His previous discussion with Alkaid had been most fascinating, to say the least. Provided that her story was indeed true (at this point, Spock could see no logical reason for her to lie), then there several prisoners here who were inhabiting bodies that did not belong to them. This was a matter of interest to him, mainly because he was yet uncertain as to whether the situation found among Alkaid's social circle was an isolated case, or if there were others from similar circumstances who'd had their bodies altered as well.

Spock decided he would need to investigate the subject further, although he acknowledged that there may be some challenges involved. After all, Alkaid herself had stated that he was the only person she had felt comfortable enough to confide in, presumably because she was fearful knowledge concerning her predicament would cause others to alter their perceptions of her. It was possible those suffering from a similar problem would be reluctant to share information.

Regardless, the shift was over; it was time to focus his attention on other matters for the time being. The automated system's message seemed to support his theory that this program's true function revolved around behavior studies centered on the "patients" who were brought here. Until this morning, however, he had not considered the possibility that they were undergoing training for some sort of government program.

Next-wave. Spock had been unfamiliar with the term, but he'd mentally filed it away for future reference. There were still too many unknown variables to put the information to good use, unfortunately, but he would do what he could to rectify the situation.

"Here we are," his nurse cut in once they drew closer to one of the rooms, "M27. Enjoy your meal, Mr. Penn." This was in a different block than the one he'd woken up in last night. Spock knew it wasn't necessarily unusual to change rooms without notice. Perhaps the baseball bat he'd acquired last night had been confiscated...

After giving a small nod to his nurse, Spock stepped into his room with the vegetarian meal that had been provided by their captors and closed the door behind him.

No sooner had he taken two steps into the room than he felt something hard and wet crack underneath his left slipper. Faintly surprised, he glanced down. After acknowledging the discarded food and smashed plate that were scattered across the floor, he moved away from any sharp pieces that might injure him. As he did so, Spock's attention was immediately drawn to another individual seated at one of the desks.

And he grew very still.

The man's vigorous, violent attempts at writing in his journal, and the frantic energy that seemed to radiate off of him indicated that he was disturbed in some way. Spock was unsure of whether this was his typical behavior, or if something particularly traumatic had triggered an onslaught of negative emotions. He considered the possibility that he'd been subjected to one too many experiments in this facility, and had finally lost any semblance of sanity he may have once possessed.

Whatever the case, however, it did not change the fact that this man's profile and build were strikingly similar to his own. In fact, from what he could tell, he was almost identical to himself. The most apparent differences were the way he wore his hair, and the very Human-like shape of his ears.

Had Captain Kirk not previously informed him of the presence of what he'd "humorously" referred to as an "evil clone", Spock may have ventured closer to investigate. The man's distress, however, was an unpleasant sight to behold. Realizing that he may be intruding on something very private and personal, Spock momentarily averted his dark eyes, his back growing a little more rigid than usual.

F10

[cursed-exorcist.livejournal.com]

The figure on the bed stirred. A lithe body outlined by white sheets. Perspiration dotted her brow, and her face twisted in pain. Sometimes her body would thrash around. The intervals were random, and the strength varied.

Kagura... Kagura...

Two people called out to her; their voices were both different and the same.

Izumi-chan... Yomi...

It's time to wake up... KAGURA!

"Kya!" she gasped, heart pounding against her ribcage. A phantom image of Yomi covered in blood flashed through Kagura's mind, forcing her eyes open. Her azure orbs stared at the white ceiling, trying to swallow the image and overwrite her nightmares with it, but that was impossible. The horrific visage of Yomi dead was burned into her eyes, just like the blood on her hands.

"Oh my god. Izumi... Yomi... What have I done..." Kagura hoarsely whispered, fresh tears trickling down her face.

Her thoughts and emotions were a mess. Sitting up, Kagura rested her head on her forearms supported by her knees. What could she do? Yomi was trapped in the department's basement, guarded by Fujiko-san and a handful of elite guards. It wouldn't be easy rescuing Yomi... Wait, was she actually considering abandoning Yomi to her fate? No, that was unacceptable. If Yomi were to die again then... then all that awaited was a world without Yomi. Kagura didn't need a world that denied Yomi's existence. The only question now was how she was going to get Yomi out.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Kagura finally took a glance around the room and realized something. "Um... Where am I?"

Re: F10

[kagurazuki.livejournal.com]

After a night like last night, Kagura was fairly happy with how calm the day that followed had been. She'd met a few nice people and spoken with Bridget and even if they didn't decide to do much, hopefully they'd have an okay night too.

When they brought her back to her room though, there was a new girl sharing it with her. It seemed like she got a new roommate every other day lately. She wasn't sure what happened to the ones who'd gone, but she had a gross feeling in the pit of her stomach and she could guess why.

Her brows knit together in concern and worry, but she nodded to the new girl with a bit of apprehension as she sat down on her side of the room. The other girl didn't seem too happy to be there either. In fact, it looked a little like she'd been crying.

"A-ah... I'm sorry, I don't think we've met before but... are you alright?"

F22

[himetsuru.livejournal.com]

So, Senna thought she could take the easy way out by falling asleep, did she?

Falis silently watched her roommate from across the room, finishing her meal. It was somewhat humorous seeing Senna come in and promptly flop face-down onto her bed asleep. Once finished, she decided to test how responsive the shinigami was while she slumbered. The hunter went about her standard routine of ripping the wooden poles out of both closets and kept a sharp eye on Senna to see if she reacted to the noise. Not even a fucking twitch. With a low chuckle and a smirk crawling across her face, Falis quickly created two spear out of the poles and set them and her sword on top of her bed. Once that was done, the hunter approached her prey.

It wouldn't be right to just take advantage of Senna, Falis did have some morals, but that didn't mean she couldn't have fun. Besides, she was curious about how alert the girl's subconscious was. Kneeling down on the bed next to Senna, Falis lightly trailed her nails from Senna's jaw to the back of her neck and down. With skilled hands and a feather touch, she moved them over the shinigami's back, searching for certain points of interest. Not once did her hands stray to any place indecent, though she did trace her nails along the line of bare flesh of the girl's lower back that was exposed from Senna's ungraceful flop. As she tended to her roommate, she leaned forward to whisper enticing things into the sleeping one's ear.

As a lock of hair tumbled over her shoulder to rest on the girl's back, mingling with the hunter's hands, she gave another low chuckle. How much control did Senna have over her baser thoughts? Falis wasn't ready for the kill yet; she continued to observe her prey...

F15

[revolutionise]

Utena had requested that her nurse take her back to her room after seeing her "visitor". She had spent fourth shift alone there hoping that the quiet would help her to think better. Unfortunately, the quiet had been completely filled with the memory of Akio's voice fresh in her mind, his words twisted and shaped by the Institute's brainwashing. Whatever Harley had tried to tell her, it hadn't prepared her at all for just how hard it had been to face such a visitor. She felt sick just imagining Akio calling her and Himemiya by those stupid fake names.

The worst part, however, hadn't been the lies, but rather the warped, yet recognizable truths. Some of what Akio had tried to tell her hit a lot closer to home than she had thought possible; she did badly want to be closer to Akio and Himemiya, like he had said. She wanted to be close enough to be considered Akio's own family.

Maybe even closer than that.

Her cheeks had flushed deep pink at that thought even as she forced it back down. Akio had a fiancé. Utena had her prince. There was nothing more to think about beyond that. Still, much as she told herself that she was imagining things, she felt a faint shiver down her back, thinking about the man running his fingers through her hair and brushing it gently back over her shoulder.

Eventually, Utena forced herself to stand up and start stretching out her legs and arms. She very pointedly kept her mind focused on the sensation of her muscles moving and the sound of her own breathing, just so that the false Akio would be drowned out of her mind for a while. 1, 2, 3 . . . 1, 2, 3 . . . 1, 2, 3 . . .

She was on to upside-down bicycle wheels on her bed by the time dinner shift came around. She welcomed the arrival of food, though she avoided giving the nurse one of her usual smiles when she was handed her plate. Her eyes strayed to the closet once the nurse was gone. Inside that closet, her uniform and the iron poker she was giving to Harley sat stowed away, awaiting the coming night. Something's going to get done tonight, Utena decided firmly, gritting her teeth firmly as she took her food over to the desk. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm going to find something that'll help us get up to that third floor. Landel's been hiding for too long. I have to find him. Soon.