Day 48: Courtyard

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

"I could tell you some stories," Yuffie suggested brightly, "of unquestionable legality." Illegality, that was. Petty little things like the law didn't usually mean very much to her, except for the times when she had to uphold it. Always fun for the breaking, though, the law, and messy for the clean-up. Just the way she liked it.

Her nurse looked like she wanted to rub her temples. With sandpaper. "No, thank you," she said instead. "Why don't you run along, now?" Please!, was the unspoken request. Before I spontaneously combust. Or commit various acts of violence that would have me arrested, or placed in a loony bin. Like this one. Yuffie had quite a bit of fun filling in the blanks other people left. Sometimes she did it outloud, just to see the reaction; sometimes she kept it to herself. It really, really depended.

"Don't mind if I do!"

She took off, bolting out into the Courtyard. The weather was dour, overcast and threatening rain, but Yuffie didn't care. She'd refused a coat on principle, and had found herself bargaining: Fine, fine, Plucky had conced she could go without a coat, but unless she had at least a sweatshirt on, there'd be no outside-time for her. She ran a little ways down the dirt path, then toppled herself into a series of cartwheels. Straighten, run. Cartwheel. Straighten, run, just for the sheer sake of movement, and the whip of the wind. She laughed a little giddily, checking her gait down to a jog. Gawd, Leviathan, she'd needed this. Right from the get-go, she'd needed this. Every day she spent cooped up in side, the more nervous energy she had.

Nanaki had helped, she realized. Sort of. He'd…helped. In a way. His presence and everything that was wrong with it weighed on her, for sure, but he was still Nanaki. He didn't deserve to be here, didn't deserve to be stuck in a body that he hated and couldn't use, but all the same, she found herself glad to have him.

Yuffie started to hum, as she jogged leisurely around the Courtyard. A cheery little tune, one of her favorites; no, it was her favorite. A Wutaian walking song, with the roughly translated title of Pathway After the Rain. The pace stayed even but the tune picked up, and she found herself half-singing snatches of the lyrics to herself. It felt like ages since she'd last said anything in her native tongue, at least outloud; she wrote in it all the time.

[The Doctor]

Comments

[notachick.livejournal.com]

Unlike the other day, Okita didn't argue with his nurse when she bundled him up in the extra clothes. He felt particularly off today for some reason, having slept in during the morning, taking his meal in his room instead and only being able to eat a small portion of it. It felt as if he had a fever, but the nurse had given him some strange little device to put under his arm and told him his temperature wasn't any higher than normal. Maybe a degree and some change off, but nothing to worry about. He wasn't so sure, but then he wasn't about to disagree with her if she was giving him a bill of health.

Going outside, he tightened the coat around himself as he moved across the grass. He could see Yuffie already out here, jogging around the edges as she sang a song he couldn't hear the words to. Rather than speak to her and interrupt, however, he headed to the opposite end and sat down on one of the north-end benches, facing the wall. The pond was at his back and from here he could stare out over the wall, at the gray sky, and wonder what else was out there. He could wonder if Hijikata was looking up at this sky, too, grumbling about how the weather was a bad sign. And wonder if the man Hijikata had become would do that sort of thing.

Leaning back on one hand, he turned his face away, closing his eyes as he pressed the back of his hand against his lips. The coughs were lighter today, but there were more of them. He'd woken up coughing, too. And now that he was outside, it seemed the cold air was affecting him even more. Sitting up, Okita turned so that no one would be able to see him and covered his mouth completely, furrowing his brow as the coughing slowly came to a stop. It wasn't as bad as it had been before the Ikedaya raid, but he could feel it getting closer by the day. "...how much longer I wonder," he murmured, sighing slightly as he sat back again, staring up at the sky.

[For Homura]

[screwthegods]

Homura walked away from his meeting with Lelouch satisfied enough for what had transpired, and quickly donned the extra clothing they now were requiring the patients to wear. Though the logic was reasonable enough, with the foreboding color of the sky and the undeniable chill, Homura still childishly wanted to refuse on principle. The idea made him grin as he moved into the Courtyard, and he wondered if he truly had grown that desperate for something resembling freedom. When he considered the delays and the drawbacks of recent nights, the thought didn't seem so outrageous.

But all that remained was to move forward. He told himself this, as he had before, because he knew what fate awaited those that gave in. Even the strongest among them could be claimed by the lies, and it was a pretty fantasy. Would Rinrei be outside on a day like this, fighting the cold? Homura didn't know, for the simple reason that Heaven only had a single season. Eternal paradise didn't tolerate cold in the same way the mortal world accepted it, adapted to it and still progressed. Yet another reason to much prefer humans over gods, with occasional exceptions.

Now, however, Homura's attention wasn't caught by any of his kin, but instead by the man he'd consider one of his closest friends. His wandering had taken him close to the bench, but even he might have missed Okita's presence, except for the sound. For horrible moments that lasted too long, Homura watched from a distance as Okita coughed. Was it the disease their hell had infected him with? Of course; Homura would be foolish to think it had been anything else. The disease that had claimed Okita's life, or so Himura claimed in the future. Homura knew the dread of dwindling time, and that fueled his own determination, if only to somehow let his friend accomplish something of meaning before--then.

When the coughing finally ended, Homura slipped off his coat and headed toward the bench. Okita would sense his presence, and more, when Homura drew close. But neither the chill nor the heaviness in the air mattered so much as simply dropping the jacket around Okita's shoulders, for whatever warmth it might provide. He wouldn't listen to any protests, which was why he didn't speak of his action as he claimed the open space next to his friend. They had much more to discuss, that they rather would discuss than that.

"I know what the room upstairs is for." Of all the things he'd bring up, what he'd finally understood when he saw Hanatarou's collected items seemed the most pressing on Homura's mind, if only because there could be so many potential answers to be found. He looked down at the ground in front of him, in the opposite direction of Okita, as if it could banish away the unpleasant memories that had led to this truth. "That room is one of the ones they use to brainwash the patients on Special Counseling nights. That's why we find weapons there, and so many nurses. And the fluid--they have bags of the same fluid I used when I lost my will to them."

[flamingfurball.livejournal.com]

[Papa? Scar!]

Nanaki had panicked when the nurses came and removed Yuffie from the wheelchair, helping him back into it before leading them away in separate directions. He stopped panicking when he remembered the bulletin. He asked the nurse for a pen and pulled himself up to make a few edits to the note Yuffie had left.

Once that was done, he was told he was going outside, though usually he would be joining the rest of the 'kids' for a shower. That sounded absolutely horrific, so he assured the nurse he was capable of cleaning himself, even in this body.

He saw Yuffie again and felt better until he realised he was also jealous, seeing her run about. All in good time...he was sure. For now, he directed the nurse to a nice patch of grass beside the pond where he dropped out of the wheelchair and sat on the ground. He pulled his knees up and tried to lower his torso between. Painful. He put his knees down and twisted across them, elbows and forearms flat on the grass. Ached a little. He flopped onto his back, knees up, ankles crossed and arms much in the same sort of position. But his limbs were too heavy and wanted to drop down. He lay flat out and felt like he was falling, so quickly rolled over into a fetal position, with a fed up harumph.

[longlivetheking]

Unfortunately for Scar, a certain woman refused to allow him outside unless he would at least add another layer of so-called 'clothing'. Because, apparently, it was cold. Oh right, humans lacked fur, therefore, the basic ability to keep themselves warm. The king had learned by now that this was the reason why these silly hairless monkeys needed these 'clothing'; to aid them or they'd presumably freeze to death or such. Then again, humans needed a lot of things to aid them. He had to wonder how they could even survive if they were so incompetent. Certainly not long without all of these helpful things. He almost wanted to have a human dropped in the Pride Lands just to see how long it would be before they dropped dead.

Be as it may, he had little choice but to accept this 'sweatshirt' (or whatever they called it) and the nurse's help in putting it on, which was an incredibly annoying experience altogether. Not one entirely unfamiliar to him considering the aftermath of shower shifts or even those excursions to Doyleton, but nonetheless something that did little to improve Scar's mood. But eventually, the former lion could finally go outside. Predictably, the nurse saw fit to drag him over to another individual lying on a patch of grass near the pond. After being warned to be 'nice', the nurse wandered off to bother another patient.

With a roll of his eyes, Scar sat down on the grass, not quite caring if he sat in a 'normal' human position or not as he merely picked something remotely comfortable. He cast a glance to the fellow he was stuck with right now. It was hardly anyone he recognized, though he took note of the red yet oddly-shaped mane and the scar over where one of his eyes should have been.

"Good morning, I suppose," came the dry greeting. There, he had made an effort. Somewhat.

[should-be-dead.livejournal.com]

Tenzen took the extra layers of clothing the nurses insisted he'd wear before heading outside with annoyance. The sole existence of these nurses was to annoy (if not humiliate) their charges, he was certain of it. But after some fussing, the ninja of Iga could finally enter the courtyard and left to his own devices.

He sat down on one of the benches and crossed his arms. Breakfast had been as uneventful as most of the shifts during the day. The only thing that could be done during these fruitless days was interacting with other patients.

[For Leonard Shelby!]

[otnemememento.livejournal.com]

As Leonard passed through the doors, the nurse put a hand on his shoulder, literally grabbing his attention. She handed him a coat she'd been carrying, chastising him for forgetting it. He gave her a smile, putting it away the moment she'd left him. Teasing someone like me about his memory is pretty cruel.

Irritated, he slipped the coat on and headed for one of the benches, taking the empty seat next to a dark-haired man. The cold air made him lethargic in a strange way- Maybe I didn't get enough sleep last night. You can't tell like this. Maybe you've been up for hours, maybe you woke up a few minutes ago.

After he took a moment to look around, he gave the other man an acknowledging nod.

[idontregret.livejournal.com]

It was cold outside, and Heat didn't want to be there. As his name would suggest, he and the cold didn't exactly mix well. Unfortunately, he wasn't given much of a choice. The nurses wanted him outside, supposedly in order to get him to work off whatever excess energy he might have. They bundled him up in a couple extra layers, and he was still too sedated to fight them off properly (though one of the orderlies received a kick to the shins and he was threatened with solitary confinement).

They dragged him outside, but didn't encourage him to interact with anyone immediately, which he supposed he should be grateful for except that he couldn't get himself to be grateful for anything this place 'provided' at the moment. He crossed his arms over his chest as the cold air hit him, stumbling to a place against the wall and refusing to go any further than that.

Admittedly, the cold air was helping to bring him back to his senses already, but that didn't mean he was going to enjoy it any. The demon leaned his head back against the wall and pulled his legs up close. As much as he'd hate it, he was going to have to calm down - at least until night came and he could make better use of his anger. While the sun was out, these people had the upper hand. He was just being toyed with.

[one little Petrelli, please]

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Talking to Alita had given Peter the chance to vent about last night at least slightly, although vent wasn't even the right word. Peter wasn't mad about what had happened, necessarily. It was more than he was confused, upset, worried, and crushed that someone as nice as Roland had been forced to such a terrible end. Losing control of himself and becoming some sort of monster that couldn't tell between friend and foe, only to go so berserk that there was no choice but to attack him...

Peter was impatient with the nurses when they forced him into a coat before they would let him outside. They insisted that they didn't want him to catch a cold, but that was the last thought on Peter's mind at the moment. Having grown up in New York, he had a pretty good amount of tolerance for cold weather, so he didn't see why they were bothering. In the end, he pulled the coat on as quickly as he could and then headed out into the courtyard.

It took some walking around, but he eventually found Heat sitting up against the wall and looking like he was about to freeze to death. It was chilly, but Peter honestly didn't think it was that bad. Maybe the man was used to a warmer climate -- and his name was a clue all on its own, wasn't it? He wondered if it was a nickname, then.

Walking over to the man, Peter stood nearby and glanced down at him, arms over his chest. His left arm was still stinging and sore from the bite, but he wasn't going to think about that right now. "We need to talk," he said, and his tone managed to be surprisingly firm.

[idolism]

_{[For Zack!]}

Aidou had a headache.

He was sure, in fact, it was the same monster headache that’d been dogging him since his arrival, oh, almost a month ago. He’d found its strength was directly proportional to his level of failure, so naturally upon waking he’d wanted to bury his pounding head under the pillow and pretend he didn’t have to go through yet another day of patient theatrics. Augh, he was just sick. Of everything. When had his lack of progress become a consistent habit instead of merely an intermittent aggravation? It was enough to make the vampire--

Well, it was enough to get him very, very angry, but that was also a futile habit of his. Hence, Aidou had sat through breakfast grinding his teeth, but by the time second shift came around, the sharp bite of frustration had dulled to a distant (and familiar) sense of disappointment. No, there no point in shouting out his fury, as much as he might like to. And no, this losing streak wouldn’t last, because he was going to change it. Tonight he’d do something. Something more fruitful than what he’d been doing of late.

As though in compromise, the day when his nurse would be trying to get him outside “into the sunshine” was a day where there actually wasn’t any sunshine. Aidou was perfectly happy to make a break for the outdoors, to the woman‘s chagrin. After warning her not to bother with a coat, as he wasn’t going to use it, he staved off further complaining by ducking outside with a sweater under his arm. Not that he was going to use it, either. He wasn’t normally any more pleased with the cold than the next vampire, but it suited his mood; that, and his affiliation with ice left him basking in the low temperature, a ghost of his stolen powers.

For once, there was no wincing or scowling involved in meandering along the courtyard path. Pausing at a spot by the pond, Aidou stretched, bringing his arms up in a victorious ’v’ above his head. Finally, a gloriously beautiful day! At least where the impenetrable blanket of dark grey clouds was concerned. It was almost perfect. If given the choice, he could’ve stayed out there until dinner shift and beyond, but unfortunately, he had only a short time to enjoy being free of the building without fear of a sunburn. At least there was going to be opportunity for him to wash that day, even if he’d have to do it in the presence of other naked males.

… And there went any good thoughts. Short-lived as usual.

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

Speaking to ZEX had opened up Zack's mind even more when it came to realizing just how powerful the Head Doctor was. This was on a whole different scale from anything Hojo had been allowed to do. While the man had experimented on both him and Cloud, they were only two people. How many of the patients here had once been in different bodies, for instance? It was enough to make his skin crawl if he thought too hard about it. Still, it was good to see that ZEX took enjoyment out of some things, and he hadn't been as down in the dumps about his situation as he could have been. That was always good.

He would have to make a note to find ZEX some other time, so that he could help him out with the knife and fork. The guy's fondness of humans was a little bit creepy, he had to admit, but Zack wasn't going to let that stop him from lending a hand. It wasn't like there had been anything malicious about ZEX, after all.

Getting another chance to head outside was a good thing in Zack's book, but it was a shame that it happened to be so overcast today. Given a choice between a sweatshirt and a coat, Zack naturally chose the coat. Slipping into it, he walked into the courtyard and took a curious glance around the area. It was sizable, but the wall still made it clear that they were caged. To think, it would be so easy to just jump that wall and start running, and yet he knew that couldn't end well. Besides, how could he leave without taking Cloud and the others? Speaking of which, he had been beyond relieved when he'd see his friend writing out messages on the bulletin board after breakfast.

In any case, he might as well enjoy what they were given, and so Zack started to wander along the path, observing both the trees and the pond. This was a nice change from the covered city he'd been spending most of his time in. Missions had always been welcome for the very fact that it got him out into the world and away from the gloomy city of Midgar.

As he walked, he saw a familiar face standing nearby and immediately stopped to say hello. "Aidou!" he greeted with a quick wave. "How've you been?" The young man had been very helpful when they'd first talked, so Zack was perfectly happy to catch up with him now.

[bprd-fishman.livejournal.com]

Well, that had been odd. Abe wondered if he hadn't been a little too harsh with the girl. She'd been nothing but friendly to him, just a bit too coy to avoid being annoying. Ah, well, it was a bridge that was already burned and she seemed to be no one of consequence.

He pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders and began to pace the expanse of grass, eying the grey walls and potential freedom that lay beyond them. What would happen, he wondered, if in the middle of some catastrophic riot they found a ladder? Could Landel still reach them if they left the institute during the day--or for that matter was there even anything left out there?

[Free!]

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

Breakfast came and went, relieving the Replica his body's persistent hunger cramps for now, but it didn't ease his foul mood. Once lead out of the cafeteria, Sechs' nurse stuffed a coat and a pair of sneakers into his arms and told him to put them on. The weather outside was as cold and gloomy as Sechs' thoughts and for once he didn't refuse the nurse's care. The chill in his back was bad enough as it is, so a coat to protect him from the temperature outdoors was welcome, but not expressed kindly to the nurse who gave it to him. She received an impudent snort from Sechs before he had his back to her and was already shuffling out the door.

Outside, Sechs took a solitary stroll past the pond and towards the farthest part of the courtyard. Grimly huddling inside his coat, Sechs found himself glowering at the walls that seemed to loom over its prisoners. As a cyborg he could have easily jumped the wall or blasted right through it with no problem. A simple layer of concrete and metal wouldn't have stood a chance to his power; they might as well had been blocks of Styrofoam once he got his hands on them, just like back in the Z.O.T.T... Now he felt so... small compared to it, even smaller than if he were occupying his interactive interface doll and even that little robot could have easily scaled the wall and brought it down!

Spotting another patient who seemed to be doing the same dejected sight-seeing of the wall, Sechs eyed the stranger and gruffly spoke, "You want outta here too, huh?"

[finalwitch.livejournal.com]

The theory proposed on the bulletin--the one suggesting their entire lives were elements of fiction--was unexpected. In its own morbid way, however, it made sense. The idea took everything into account at one fell swoop, creating a clean cut hypothesis compared to the others. Occam's Razor, more or less. With false realities, she could reason away Rolo's Area 11, Albedo's hundreds of not-siblings, and Junpei's Shadows and Tartarus. She could clear away the presence of an island's legend--

Beatrice, the Witch in Gold, the culprit of the Rokkenjima Mass Murder incidents.

--and the living vessel of a beloved brother.

It meant taking the entirety of her life and declaring it impossible, but in understanding its worth, she could not mind so much. Her reality meant nothing in the end; the prospect of a make-believe life changed little in Ange's honest opinion. Granted, her reply stayed true when looked at objectively: the prospect was damning. She would have to be 'nice' in future investigations by keeping the matter to herself (unless deemed otherwise, of course).

With those concepts in mind, the young woman was led to the courtyard. The weather had grown chilly from her time in Tokyo; therefore, she accepted the coat her nurse provided as she headed out. Gray clouds darkened the sky, telling of rain or possibly snow, but Ange paid no mind. She took to walking down the path ahead, brain running on cycles.

[Come to me, Onii-chan. And I guess that witch can join, too.]

[dreadofthegrave]

Though it was only his second day there, Battler couldn't help but decide that there was something unsettling about this place. It seemed that in every direction, there was some new question to be asked. That much was normal--there were always questions --but these weren't quite on the same level. It was frustrating, to know so little. Back on the game board, there was at least some sense of direction, but even that wasn't certain here. It seemed like every moment of calm was shattered by something bizarre, but not the kind that he was used to debating. The grey clouds didn't help, either; they were too reminiscent of the storms that came, trapping everyone on the island. .... They always started out innocent like this, didn't they. Rather than a gloomy day, it almost felt like a sign that something bad was going to happen. Of course, that was an idiotic thought. Cloudy skies were brought about by the weather cycle. There was no such thing as a 'sign'; foreshadowing was something that occurred in fiction, not reality.

... Maybe he'd gotten too used to horrible things happening, to the point where he would begin to expect them. He did his best to shove the atmosphere and that unsettling breakfast from his mind. Thanks to the bulletin, there were people he needed to look for. Naminé and Luke, right? Instead, he ended up spotting familiar red hair. .... Ange.

He couldn't help but pause for a moment. She really was here, wasn't she? Part of him wanted to deny that that meeting had ever happened, but there was no way he could do that. It wasn't like he didn't want to talk to her, he just wasn't entirely sure how. It would be far too easy to make their situation even harder. However, that was no excuse to avoid her, either. ... No, he couldn't do that. Besides, did a name really mean that everything had to be strange? There were things that couldn't be said out loud, but that didn't mean that they had to be strangers, either. Even just a few meetings was enough to speak familiarly to some people. It was probably the best that could be done, to not make everything unbearable.

"Hey, Greta." The greeting was casual enough, but the name come out a little forced. He could only help that she didn't notice, and make a note to avoid using it if possible. "Sorry about lunch the other day. That was kind of.... Well, I guess I was having a rough day."

He did his best to smile reassuringly. He didn't like it, but even though it was hardly ideal, it was still a vast improvement on their initial meeting. ... He had to make this work, somehow.

[itneverwas.livejournal.com]

His conversation with the one known as Hinamori Momo had certainly been one of interest. To not only succeed in pulling a nonexistent man from the abyss in which he should have faded, but apparently do so twice...did the power of this head doctor know of any boundaries? Was it truly possible, or were memories - which were fragile of nature - manipulated after all?

Yet, the appearance and disappearance of patients appeared to be a frequent occurrence. The Nobody could not help but wonder; for what purpose? How did the head doctor achieve the things he did? The answers still remained shrouded in mystery. Before he could grasp them, he would need to acquire more information. In this new world, there was much to perceive.

But the conversation was fated to be interrupted as breakfast ended. After the intercom finished it's announcement, the nurses separated the Superior from the young woman to bring him towards the courtyard, all the while maintaining an illusion of normalcy. After he had been granted a few more layers of clothing to shield him from the cold, Xemnas was free to wander through the area and take in his surroundings. His orange eyes watched the scenery, shifting from the pond, to the trees, to the walls...there were vines growing upon their surface. It would not be an impossible feat to climb were there no strict supervision, yet what lay beyond those walls?

Eventually, Xemnas moved towards a bench and took a seat, observing the relatively small number of patients within the area thus far. All of them were confined, yet there seemed to be little reason in the ones that were chosen.

This truly was a remarkable world.

[Free! No limits.]

hope you don't mind? ; ; <3

[deadlyjuliet.livejournal.com]

Lord but he was sore. Battling with that nasty scar-faced loser in the shed had been the last thing Grell had wanted - especially since it interrupted his night and pretty much made his effort all for naught. At least he'd been allowed to sleep in, which made his injuries a little less painful and his temper a lot less likely to explode. Seeing how he was starting to feel less and less like cooperating with the disguise he'd chosen now that Sebastian and that little brat were gone, it was a good thing he'd been allowed some time for his head to cool.

Now, as he was led out into the courtyard bundled up in winter clothes, Grell found that he was better able to slip into the timid role. He couldn't see Sylar out here, nor did he spot anyone else he knew with enough reason to be-- Ah, no, there was Sheena. The hotheaded ninja girl would likely bust his face open if he didn't act like he was 'supposed' to act. How annoying. With a sigh that could sound defeated as much as annoyed, Grell started across the grass, arms crossed over his chest in a further attempt to get warm.

It failed spectacularly, but it did allow him to spy a rather charming man sitting alone on a bench. The way his eyes watched the crowd - an almost unearthly orange color - was like a man observing a work force. They were cold, but not entirely disinterested and they did well to accent his beautifully tanned skin and the almost platinum silver hair. Grell lowered his head slightly, scuffing his shoe across the ground and allowed the motion to hide a smile. Today's target? Acquired.

As naturally as he could, Grell made his way toward the stranger, occasionally letting his shoe catch on the ground. Clumsy, distracted, cold - it all equaled up to him eventually tripping and practically falling into the stranger's lap. "Ah! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?!" Appropriate amounts of worry and fear mixed in gave Grell a chance to see his face a little closer. Definitely a looker. Lucky him~ "I didn't harm you, did I? Oh, blast me! I'm so, so sorry!"

[girlsandgadgets]

Edgar flashed a smile at his nurse as he exited the building before pulling his coat around him tightly. The air was surprisingly chilling, even more so than the night before. Despite his trips to Narshe and the cold air of the nights in Figaro, he'd never quite learned to adjust to the lower temperatures. The thin fabric of the assigned clothing didn't help matters in the slightest.

The unpleasant conditions wouldn't ruin his day for him, however: his scavenging endeavors the previous night had been a major success, and he couldn't wait to get to work on his plans. He had many of the major components- another night, and he'd be ready to start assembling his latest design. Once better equipped, he'd have a chance managing a safe escape.

Unfortunately, the previous night had also made real some of the dangers he'd been warned about. He couldn't help but wonder what that was he and Yuna had seen floating above the Sun Room. Perhaps he'd never know. Either way, he never wanted to confront something like that without a proper weapon. Soon, that wouldn't be a problem.

He made his way toward an empty bench, taking a seat and watching some of the other prisoners. Two men sitting awkwardly a distance away, an occupied bench- no Celes among the crowd. A part of him was starting to wonder if he'd ever see her again.

[Celes]

[lady-general.livejournal.com]

It had indeed been a strange series of days for Celes. After seeing Dias, everything had gone dark, for a very long time. Especially if the notes she missed were any indication. And, like the others, now Dias, too was gone. Well, he was the fifth, weren't bad things supposed to come in threes?

With a soft, pitying sigh, Celes hid the sword that she'd slept on and braided her hair away from her face. If there was nothing she could do, and no way to protect anyone that she became close to, what was the point in fighting? Still, as she was led along to the courtyard (her nurse yammering on about how missing meals was just no good for her), she couldn't hope but look for Edgar.

Thankfully, she was rewarded. Parting from her nurse, Celes joined Edgar. "Is this seat taken, or are you expecting to court some woman?" The usual bite in her words seemed subdued.

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Breakfast had been a bit on the awkward side, but it wasn't the end of the world. Besides, Claude was still optimistic that Leon and Anise could use some friends closer to their own age, so maybe they'd get a chance to get to know each other better.

For now, it looked like the adults had the option of going outside. It was disappointing that the weather wasn't that nice today; even so, he wasn't the sort to pass up an opportunity to take a break from the institute's sterile environment. Some fresh air would probably do him some good. With that in mind, he dutifully put on the outdoor shoes, sweater and coat his nurse brought to him. Though he felt like he did a decent enough job dressing himself, that didn't stop her from fussing over his crooked collar.

"Um, you don't need to worry about that," he assured her with a weak smile.

Yet it wasn't until she was satisfied with his appearance that he was allowed to go outside. Once he stepped onto the grass, he took a deep breath of the cold air. It was invigorating, in a way. Just what he needed! Smiling to himself, he settled down on the ground beside the pond, stretching out his legs and leaning back on his palms. The overcast skies were a hazy shade of grey that reminded him of a typical winter's day.

That thought gave him pause, and he tilted his head back a little more. Winter... Would they be around long enough to see a warm spring day again? Will they have found a way home by then? For all he knew, he'd wind up getting brainwashed before the season's end. Considering the high rate of disappearances around here, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

Still, those were some pretty dark thoughts so early in the day. He needed to just let himself relax when he could. Claude took another deep breath and idly watched as the clouds rolled across the sky. There was something a little therapeutic about just gazing upwards like this...

[For Tifa!]

[36-24-35.livejournal.com]

Her resident nurse had been more than happy to tell her all about her unseemly habit of wallowing away in bed past breakfast on such a fine day. Tifa was more concerned by the fact she had waken up at all. The last moments of the night were still burned in the back of her mind, beginning with the images of Cloud and Luke and then all consciousness fading quickly after. She must have blacked out (she hesitated to add 'again'); it was the only conclusion she could come up with.

She had pulled on a sweatshirt at her nurse's request, surprised she was so spry after such a hazardous night, and followed her through the cafeteria and out to the chilly courtyard. It was completely cloudy, but it was still a nice day in her mind. After living under a metal plate for a few years, any kind of sky is a sight to behold. It was tempting to let the scenery bleed her of her worry, but with many questions unanswered Tifa wondered if this was the time for pussyfooting. Though the brunette was alive and well, Cloud had taken the brunt of the fight on his own. He may not have fared so well as she. And what of Nanaki? He had been completely handicapped, and she had blacked out on him.

She stewed silently over her troubles with a neutral smile planted across her face in order to dissuade any concerns from her nurse or the prevailing patient body. The few people out in the courtyard were unfamiliar to her and she was not exactly sure how to approach anyone with this enigma, or if she should.

Instead, Tifa migrated toward the pond, catching her reflection in the water alongside another patient, a young man, whose interest lay skyward. She looked over at him, her smile growing, and then her brown eyes looked to the clouds as well. "Nice, huh? Even with just clouds..." She hadn't been looking for company, but Tifa was now eager for the distraction it offered.

[windstwilight.livejournal.com]

[from here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/833513.html?thread=66759145#t66759145)

It wasn't as if there was sun.

It was chilly, even, and she had to have a coat draped over her, one arm hanging down and her right still tightly held in a sling. Despite the care the nurses had taken with her bandages, there was little care with her damp hair. It hung down in clumps, the ribbon usually used to hold it clasped in her hand.

There was no sun today. The day Senna could have used it. Of course, right? She still stepped forward, watching the clouds. Outside was good enough for now, she guessed. Closer to the air and sky. If only she could get higher. She remembered this being the first place she came when she showed up here. And here she was now.

Despite injuries, the girl strolled to a bench and, without prelude, jumped up on it. She stood there, thoughts muddled. If you look from a high place, things become clear. Well. Today, she'd need to be a lot higher.

[for Faith.]

[vbyv.livejournal.com]

Blacking out once was one thing, but again? In less than twenty-four hours? Damn, that just wasn't cool. She remembered pretty clearly she'd just been strolling along with that kid (or yeah, fine, strolling wasn't the right word, but walking while hoping no ugly scaly thing would jump out at them was kinda on the lengthy side) and then she was in her bed. Just like that.

Should've come with a snapping finger sound effect, really.

And then there'd been a nurse, and if Faith hadn't been told what she had last night, she might've thought a lot harder about clocking that woman with her bouncy curls. But she was a little better about hasty decisions these days.

Faith walked slowly across the courtyard. Hell of an upgrade from a prison yard, that was for sure. She wasn't gonna complain about getting some shiny park to hang around in. Not that she was much of a park person, but whatever. Wherever she'd gotten dumped, she was just glad that at least it wasn't some fiery demon pit 'cause God knew those were floating around out there somewhere.

Still left the problem of precisely where this was, but honestly? Scratching off uncomfortable surroundings was a big plus in her book. Didn't mean there wasn't something else hiding behind the Stepford-ness, but one thing at a time, right?

She frowned, idly kicking a rock without checking for where it was gonna fly towards until it'd already been, well. Kicked. She looked up.

"Oh, hey. I'm sorry, my bad, I wasn't—"

[diamondstorm]

After breakfast, Renamon was in an odd place. Normally, the Digimon would retire to the sun room, check the bulletin board and go over what was known and what had to be done. Her nurse today, was having none of it.

"These activities are set up so you are able to enjoy a balanced schedule," the woman had said. "So you can't choose to not participate in every shift."

Renamon had quietly disagreed to herself. And outside of all places, especially during the day, had nothing held for her. She shifted her notebook under her arm, annoyed. Despite her extreme lack of amusement, she still found herself pushed into the courtyard. How... "fun." Against the building, she crossed her arms, pushing the notebook against her chest, staring neutrally out at the scenery. At the least, she could consider new ways to approach things.

[Venom.]

[poolcuemurder.livejournal.com]

If his hair hadn't already went white, Venom would have been concerned for its color after that conversation. Alkaid had drive, yes. She was determined and single-minded, which had its merits. There was no doubt of her strength and what she could do if she put her mind to it, but the problem was getting her there. Whatever logical argument he would give, she would immediately assume he was talking about fantasies and derive false impressions from it, which was not only naive but also dangerous. He had to spell things out for her and even then she would miss the mark. Even in the middle of battle, she could (at least from the little he saw) lose focus and become a liability if left on her own.

But he couldn't do this alone and she was a willing party. He would just have to find a way to curb her bad habits and teach her to be more reliable.

By the time he was finished writing down what notes he could on the situation and turned his attention back to the world around him, Nurse had already led him outside and was taking her leave (now that he thought of it, he could somewhat recall her muttering on about "getting fresh air" and "getting to know people" during the walk over). As strange as it was, somehow the dreary weather did not seem so dreary. The chill in the air and the hidden sun that came with it was comfortable, in an odd way.

He had been so caught up in the atmosphere that the Guild Head hardly noticed the woman he had been placed by. Once he did, however, he did offer her a quick bow for politeness' sake. Whatever she had been doing (and it didn't look like much, sadly), he hadn't meant to interrupt. "I apologize for bothering you, miss." But now that he had...

He looked at her from under his bangs, immediately attempting to gauge how useful this conversation had the potential to be. It was presumptuous and nosy of him to even start this discussion, but manners could afford to be pushed aside in times like this. "Forgive me, but how long have you been staying here?"

[hajike-tobiume.livejournal.com]

Once again with access to her drawing pad, Momo bundled up and headed out to the courtyard. She was very quiet, having had to think too much on Hitsugaya - her Hitsugaya - than she had in a while. It left her a bit sullen, so she did not seek out company. Instead, she choose a spot near the pond and stared out across it, a blank page at the ready across her lap.

For the moment, nothing came to mind, so the page stayed blank.

[free]

[laguz-decoy.livejournal.com]

Breakfast had been interesting, to say the least. Ranulf found that he enjoyed "sausages" (though they weren't as good as fish) and meeting Ritsu had been an interesting experience in itself. Before he'd gotten too in depth with him, however, a strange voice came from everywhere at once. The voice belonged to a man who seemed to be directing the days activities and if Ranulf hadn't known better he'd have thought it was the work of the goddess Ashera.

Before he could think much on this though, the same nurse as before had walked briskly over to him with what looked like more clothing. He supposed this meant he was going outside, which he had no objections over. He preferred the outdoors anyway.

Now he found himself in a courtyard, head tilted upward and eyes closed, tiny droplets of moisture cooling his skin. He'd taken the shoes, but had refused the sweatshirt and coat, wanting to surround himself by means of the cool air. He couldn't quite explain the feeling, it just felt... real.

After doing this for a moment, he gazed around the courtyard studying the various patients. He didn't see Tsubaki or Ritsu anywhere, causing him to emit a tiny sigh. Still being very apprehensive to beorc, he wasn't sure if he could introduce himself to any of them in this strange place.

He spotted a young girl sitting alone on a bench near the pond, her eyes glazed over in what could only be deep thought. She looked as lonely as he felt, seemingly preoccupied with a blank leaflet on her lap. He wondered if she wrote reports too. In a way, she reminded him of Ike's younger sister Mist, causing Ranulf to grin a little in spite of himself. Her non-threatening appearance and the possibility they may have something in common gave him enough courage to introduce himself. He walked toward the bench shyly, and spoke.

"Hey... is it ok if I sit here?"

[mizuhomaiden.livejournal.com]

[from here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/832753.html?thread=66782193#t66782193)

Sheena did not let go of Neku's hand until they got outside and she realized she was, in fact, still holding it. And dragging him. The ninja cast a nervous look around the courtyard, but it was thankfully youkai-free. She was pretty sure Yukari would stay inside, especially with as chilly as it was, but she couldn't be too careful.

Turning to Neku, she stared at him a moment. "Um... yeah... so... I verified it. Third floor is pretty much magically off-limits," she said, having fished for a topic that was not youkai related.

[composers-proxy.livejournal.com]

Sheena was the last thing he'd expected, and while he tugged and pulled against her grip, she was pretty damn strong for a girl. Must be some crossbreed of gorilla. He jerked it angrily free once they were outside and he was well and fully freezing his ass off.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked, hardly hearing a word she'd said. It didn't help that his headphones were so loud, one could almost make out Brahms' rhapsody in E flat just standing near him. Without another word he started storming off further into the courtyard, arms crossed.

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

He'd managed to endure the interrogation at breakfast and come out unscathed. Kurogane probably just wanted to avoid spending half the day sedated, but it'd been to Yuuhi's benefit. Breakfast had been a test of endurance to say the least. While he felt guilty about the things he'd said, pushing the other man away and running seemed to be what he did best. Luckily the nurses showed up before the conversation got too far or too heated. He didn't plan on getting upset with Kurogane, he didn't plan to feel anything. At least he'd managed to pretend for long enough to get by.

Next shift was outside and while he didn't mind the chill, the nurses insisted on bundling him up in a sweatshirt and jacket. He felt a little stronger though, especially after eating, and he didn't wobble quite as much. Still, he was relieve to see an empty bench and took up residence on it, wondering if he could manage a nap or if it would be too cold.

[Yue/Yuki]

[winged_moon]

By the time they reached the courtyard Yue was still mildly irritable, though to the outward appearance there probably wasn't all that much difference. He'd shrugged off the nurse's offer of a coat with impatience; he had no need of such a thing, not unless it was far colder than it currently was outside. To get her to leave him alone he'd finally just carried it slung over one arm as he stalked outside. He'd missed the chance to go outside the day before and didn't want to miss this one.

Once outside, though, he noticed a familiar figure sitting on one of the benches and turned in that direction (with a slight grimace as he almost stepped on the end of his braid yet again; as relieved as he was to have his full length of hair restored, it was still difficult and impractical in this situation. Not that he would admit to that, of course). Yue's frown deepened at the sight of the eyepatch; it was a reminder of both the other night and the puzzle surrounding it, but he voiced none of that upon arriving. He merely folded his arms across his chest and examined the magician with a critical air. "Not feeling well?"

[dualistic]

Speaking to Jones was usually a good way to level out Harvey's mood. While things weren't necessarily going well (there was still no sign of the Bat, for instance), they weren't as bad as they'd been in the past. He'd gathered a decent amount of supplies over his time here. With a metal pipe, a syringe, a scalpel, and a handgun to choose from now, he thought he was getting to the point where he was set.

The downside, though, was that he still didn't have much of an idea of how to get out of here. Part of him knew that there wasn't any sort of good life waiting for him back in Gotham, but Gordon was there, Ramirez was there. The longer he was here, the longer they got to go unpunished, untested by his coin.

Harvey fingered the silver dollar in his pocket as he took the coat a nurse offered him, pulled it on, and then headed out into the courtyard. He preferred the cloudy weather. The cold felt good on the half of his face that was exposed, and the sun wasn't out enough to make it feel like he was sizzling all over again.

The man found a bench and sat down, glancing around for anyone worth talking to, which more or less boiled down to Jason at the moment. There was also Drake, who he could have toyed with a bit more, but Harvey was fairly certain they were split up by age for this shift.

Which meant he'd have to deal with taking a shower later. He would appreciate being clean, but his physical state made it such a hassle that sometimes it didn't feel like it was worth the effort. Sighing, the man watched the other patients in the courtyard and let himself rest for this spare moment.

[Free! Come say hi. o/]

[unluckiest.livejournal.com]

[for some gaylordia]

Breakfast had been somewhat tough for Ashton. He'd never met anyone trapped here at Landel's who wasn't surprisingly nice and helpful... Of course, that had changed this morning, when he'd had to sit and watch that redheaded guy toss all his delicious pancakes on the floor just to prove some angry, drugged point. Ashton would have eaten those pancakes if they'd been offered, but that person wasn't really the sort to offer anything other than a punch in the face to anyone.

Well, it took all kinds, didn't it? Everyone had their bad days, though Ashton wondered if some people didn't have more bad days than others. He regretted getting a little snippy at the man, but, really, there were certain things one just didn't do. Ashton's own tendency was to bemoan his fate and whine about it.

Anyway, the nurse was offering a warm coat and special shoes for the weather, which Ashton took gratefully. It was a little cold outside, like it'd been the other night when he and Claude had gone out. Weepy would be right at home, if he was here... And Creepy would be complaining and nipping at Ashton's ear.

Oh, memories! Not a moment went by that he didn't remember his dragon pals... Where could they have gone?!

There weren't any frees bees to play here, but he couldn't just stand around! Most of the other people around here were sitting on benches or staring at the sky. Ashton didn't blame them for that, of course, but he had felt like he was losing his touch here ever since he'd arrived, so he knew he had to work out at least a little bit.

Well, for now, he began to stretch. If he didn't stretch a lot, he'd pull a muscle later if he was unlucky! Maybe he'd do some pushups after this. He had to get good and buff for the eventual dragon rescue.

"Okay, Ashton, time to get yourself in shape," he told himself as he bent down to touch his toes. Though it wasn't as if he wasn't already in shape; so much time possessed had made sure that his shoulder and back muscles had defined themselves rather well.

[nobleman]

It had been harder than usual for Guy to leave Luke at the end of the shift, and yet he forced himself to acknowledge the fact that his friend could handle it. Even if the younger man had just been put through something terrible, he was far stronger now than he'd been three years ago. It was going to wear on him, but not to the point that he couldn't function, the way he'd been after Akzeriuth.

Sometimes, it was just hard for Guy to admit that Luke didn't need to be taken care of anymore. The swordsman was still determined to be at his side whenever possible so that he could help, but he'd already given his advice and said what needed to be said. Luke could take it from here.

Guy was still somewhat worried as he moved out into the courtyard (complete with a nurse-provided coat), but he tried to let the surroundings distract him. The courtyard wasn't quite as nice to be in when the weather was bad and the sky was grayed over, but Guy tried to enjoy this bit of time outside nonetheless.

After he'd walked around for a while, a flash of movement caught his attention. Surprisingly enough, there was Ashton, in the middle of stretching. Guy tilted his head to the side and watched the other man for a moment before he started to walk over. Claude had specifically said that speaking with Ashton would be a good idea, and it had been on Guy's list of things to do today.

Once he got close enough, Guy lifted up a hand to announce his presence to the other man. "Ashton? I don't know if Claude told you about me, but I'm a friend of his. We've met before..." Ashton had to have heard about his lost memories by now, right? Guy hoped he wouldn't be confusing him too much.

[notthistrain.livejournal.com]

It might have been a little cold outside, but Cloud was always up for some fresh air. The nurses provided the warm clothing, just as the man on the intercom said they would - were even polite about it. If there was one thing that Landel's knew how to do, it was put on a show.

The Courtyard this morning didn't look nearly as otherworldly as it had the other night when they'd scaled the wall. In fact, it was almost more disconcerting to see how normal it looked. The Institute really was a completely different place during the day time. He'd give the man props, but he didn't feel like it.

Temperature-wise, it was just cold enough that he could see his breath. He pulled his jacket a bit tighter about himself, but it wasn't anything that would bother him too much. He could see Zack, Tifa, and some of the others already out and mingling. That was good. It was his job as leader to keep track of everyone, though now that Zack was there that leadership role felt somewhat awkward. He'd worry about that if the issue ever came up.

For now, a brisk walk might do him some good, and he started off on the path that ran around the area.

[free]

[silent-shades.livejournal.com]

Right. Phase one, attempt to gain allies, complete. Well, ok, so he'd spoken to a guy. Now he had to trying and see how things were with AVALANCHE. He had NO idea who Nanaki was, but apparently he was a new member to the ranks.

Rude spotted Cloud and figured there was no harm making his presence known and all that. Which he did simply by approaching and giving the guy a curt nod. Man, he missed Reno.

[stalksperverts.livejournal.com]

His nurse came to collect him from breakfast, far too early for his liking. He enjoyed spending time with others and Nunnally had been no exception. Still, he couldn't help but feel slightly guilty as he left. Would she be fine? Would she manage? He'd noticed the crutches but been too polite to ask. The monsters wouldn't spare her. Kio's stomach tightened at the thought.

It was cold outside, enough to warrant a coat. If his nurse was right, if he'd been ill, then he needed to take precautions. Helping others would not work if he was going to be confined to his bed all the time. Sou-chan hadn't seem to appear for breakfast, but in the rush he could have easily missed him. Kio didn't want to think about that either. He watched the others, carefully noting expressions. Worried. Concerned. Some smiling, but they were far too few.

Kio tightened the coat around him, enough that his nurse gave an approving nod. In this light, she was almost normal. Was he really the sick one? The one who needed to be cured? His delusions and the lies the fed him. He was getting sick of them. But as long as people were sad and lonely, Kio would have to help. Even if it meant staying behind.

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

Soubi needed fresh air. Actually, no, he needed his lungs to be full of sweet, hot tar, but that wasn't happening anytime soon. God, he needed to...do something. He needed an outlet. Art didn't work, not with shaking hands and cold sweats. Not with all this anger boiling up in his gut. He needed to hit something or find something to focus on, one feeling or sensation.

Outside, he tried to feel the chill and let it distract him, but it didn't do a great deal. He did, however, spot somebody he'd been wanting to see. He walked up silently, arms folded, trying not to give out an aura of despair.

[scalyfishman.livejournal.com]

Depth Charge didn't need to be told twice that he was going to be outside today. His nurse barely had time to get out her hazardous weather warning before he was outside and making a brisk circuit of the pond, hands in pockets for warmth before the chill (and his nurse) caught up with him and forced him into a sweater. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why the Scarecrow didn't mind his new human skin. It couldn't even regulate its own temperature.

But anyway. Other than the cold, he wasn't feeling too terrible today. Sure, he'd had to go through Cybertronian History 101 at breakfast but the effort hadn't exactly blown out his memory circuits, and even if it had there was always a shower to look forward to. He wasn't happy, but he sure as slag wasn't about to try and bust his nurses' faceplate the next time she showed up.

He drew to a halt by the wall, leaning back against it and exhaling. It was probably temporary, he realised. Most likely it was just some kind of kickback from the night before last. But that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it.

[hailmegatron.livejournal.com]

[ahhh ahhhhhhh sorry sorry I fail forever at posting ;_; BACKTHREAD?]

Deaf. Deaf! Lugnut scowled as his nurse handed him a coat and led him outside. It wasn't as bad as being blind, but they had still made Scourge deaf. Hmph.

It was cold out, and he awkwardly pulled the coat on, looking up towards the sky. It looked a bit like the sky over Detroit before it would snow...

He sighed, and looked down, and around the courtyard, and scowled at the organic things talking to each other, and wandered over to a reliable person who was not organic, deaf, or annoying.

"Depth Charge," he greeted, and leaned against the wall next to him, looking not-particularly-pleased-with-anything.

[vstheworld]

Scott left breakfast in an infectiously good mood. He was so glad he'd been able to talk to Keman. Any conversation that eventually turned into fun times with fork fights was a good one in his book, no matter how awkwardly said conversation might have started out. Even the cold outside wasn't enough to bother him; it helped that compared to some of the North Ontarian winters he'd lived through, the temperature right now was downright balmy. His still-injured leg and healing arm were an annoyance, sure, but those things too would pass. He was sure that they wouldn't hamper him nearly as much during the coming night, and he was even more sure that in the nights following, he would be back to full-on Butt-Kicking Mode.

Scott took a full, cool breath of the crisp air, letting it permeate his lungs and make his body tingle pleasantly. He let it out in a big cloud of condensation as he leaned back onto one of the benches. "Heh. Kinda looks like a Pac-Man ghost," he said to himself as he watched his cloud of breath dissipate.

[Freeeeeee~ no limits.]

[madeinthehrl]

Soma's nurse had wrapped her in a slightly lumpy sweatshirt, coat, and boots, the look in her eyes brooking no further argument, and Soma had had to give in. It wasn't as if she could have fought back, not with the bandages currently swathing the better part of her chest and arms. She had asked to stay inside instead--she wasn't usually one for reading the bulletin board, but today was different--but the nurse had said something about the fresh air being good for her, so out she went.

The air was cool but not cold, and certainly not deserving of however many layers she was currently wearing. She'd just experienced her first Russian winter with the lieutenant colonel; everything else tended to pale in comparison. Soma stood in the middle of the courtyard a bit more stiffly than was even typical for her, glancing around for a familiar face. There--the man who'd been injured two nights ago. He had been talkative, even at night; it might make for an interesting change from last shift. Besides, she'd been wondering how he was faring.

Making up her mind, she approached, her movements hampered somewhat by the coat and her injuries. "Hello," she said, a little awkwardly. "Are you doing all right?"

[doneinthree]

Despite the insistence of his nurse, Kirk didn't bother to button up his coat before heading outside. The day was cold and damp, uncomfortably like that night Bill had wandered into the arms of that patchwork creature, but for a few seconds, Kirk didn't give a damn about any of it. He breathed the sharp air deep into his lungs, and turned his gaze upwards, blue eyes drinking in the square of grey outside the courtyard walls.

He wasn't claustrophobic — he wasn't phobic of anything, despite his efforts that one year to pretend he was, just so he could attend those counselling sessions Bones had for his aviophobia. The Starfleet psychiatrists had quickly found Kirk out and ejected him on the grounds of being more of a distraction than effective moral support. Or maybe it was because of that formal complaint Bones had filed. Whatever. If it wasn't a phobia, then it was something else which propelled him constantly and compulsively off solid ground, towards the wide open sky.

Was it even space up there? Or was it one more false image being pipelined into his brain, if Chekov was right and this was all some kind of simulation? Perhaps the only thing they could be certain of was that the territory beyond their prison was unknown. Undiscovered.

"Where no man has gone before," Kirk murmured.

[Howl]

[slipperymagic.livejournal.com]

"I suppose it is an adventure of some sort," the man who had come to stand next to Kirk said. His pitiful level of enthusiasm betrayed that fact that he most definitely did not enjoy the prospect of any sort of adventure. It was certainly nothing that made him want to vaguely quote old programmes.

Howl wasn't even sure why he had said anything at all. He knew that now he was going to be sucked hopelessly into a conversation with this stranger. The man looked about Howl's own age, give or take, and he had that classic heroic look to him. Somewhere along the line, thanks largely to Ingary's fairytale logic, that look had made Howl start to imagine daring knights and gold-hearted rogues, rather than the flawed athletes and movie stars of his own world.

He had never adjusted to the way Ingary worked, but perhaps he had grown to rely upon it all the same. Ultimately, he was as out of place in a land of fantasy as he had been in the 'real' world. Case in point, as the handsome tragic stranger, Ingary's very nature dictated that he should have swept a single lady off her feet, and then ran off with her to live happily ever after. Instead, he created unnatural ripples of heartbreak.

A cool breeze blew Howl's hair into his face, and he gave the other man a tight smile from behind the dark strands. Vain as always, he still had enough left in him to hope that he looked more beautiful than he felt.

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

Alright! This was so great! Not only had he found a fellow healer, they'd actually found a way to really make a difference to the people here at night! If there was one thing that had been weighing heavily on Kibitoshin's mind (other than the monsters and keeping track of all the new people he'd met and Trunk's worrying silence), it was the thought that he hadn't been doing enough to help the rest of the patients. After all, he was the guardian of the universe! The guardian! It was his duty to protect as many people as possible! With any luck, though, this was going to be his chance to make amends. If he couldn't stop the Institute from existing, fixing people up when it hurt them with Hanatarou wasn't too bad an alternative.

Not even the chill of the courtyard was enough to weigh down his hopes- even if his nurse had seemed intent on weighing him down full stop, bundling him up in a sweater, outdoor shoes and a coat before she let him take one step outside of the Institute. The sweater itched and the shoes weren't quite the right size, but he didn't have the heart to argue with her.

Anyway, it was cold outside. Cold enough that the only thing he had the presence of mind to do was sit down and shiver on one of the benches- the same one, in fact, he'd been introduced to Franziska on. Who new? Maybe it was a lucky spot.

... on second thoughts... was he really lucky to have met her? Now there was something to think about. Well, even if she didn't want him to think so, he would; there was something almost rebellious about that, Kibitoshin felt. In a nice, quiet way. An unobtrusive rebellion that definitely (hopefully) wouldn't earn him another bruise. Maybe.

[tiny-chef.livejournal.com]

Remy didn't have a map, but rats were pretty good at finding their way around, and it frustrated him that moving around the Institute at night was unsafe enough that he couldn't explore in any kind of effective way. He wouldn't have much trouble remembering where things were and how to get to them, if only he could reach them in the first place.

So he was interested when the nurse handed him a coat (heavier than a chef's smock, but otherwise somewhat similar, and also similar to the thing Skinner wore when he was being sneaky) and led him outside to the courtyard.

To begin with, he hadn't come that way before. It took him a moment of thought to realize that it was next to the exercise field where he'd talked to Scarecrow the previous day. That meant that going outside and climbing the wall might be a good way to get to the kitchen without having to go through the Sun Room. Remy supposed that it must have been the route that the Cake Club had been planning to take the night before.

Once he was outside, he was glad he had the coat on. It was cold, about as cold as anything he had ever experienced, and he had nothing to do but walk around, or sit down somewhere. He made a circuit of the yard, thinking of the weird stuff that Guybrush had told him -- pirates? grog? -- before finally selecting a bench to sit down on.

As he sank into his seat, Remy took notice of the other guy already sitting there. He was pale all over, enough that Remy would have wondered if he had escaped from a lab, if they didn't already seem to be in one and if the guy had had red eyes. His eyes were dark, though, and looked friendly. He had a bruise on his forehead.

Among any species, tensions arose if greetings were avoided, so Remy turned his head, gave his companion a tentative smile, and said, "Hiiiiiii."

[numberii.livejournal.com]

[Open]

There was nothing quite like a night of target shooting to make Xigbar feel a lot better. He'd found someone who was decent with a bow, and while he was rather like a slightly less prissy Luxord, at least he seemed to be able to keep a sense of humor about things. Maybe he'd even be able to hook the guy into going exploring with him- two sharp-shooters were always better than one.

However, that good feeling died as soon as he stepped out into the courtyard. It wasn't the weather- he'd experienced worse extremes than that- but rather the fact that there was a certain someone, with long silver hair and lurid eyes, who was also out there. Seemed like vacation was over. He could prolong it, though, s'long as he stayed out of sight. Which was what he did- very obviously stay out of the guy's sight, by hiding behind the trees wherever he could.

[timedork]

"Ah, fresh air," the Doctor remarked to his nurse when she led him outside, outfitted in outdoor shoes and coat. It wasn't his coat, but it was warm and somewhat comfortable, so he supposed it was alright.

He was about to make another remark on the weather—it was a rather dreary day, wasn't it?—but he found that the nurse had already vanished, leaving him alone. He shrugged and started to walk further into the courtyard.

It was then he recognized a nearby face: Yuffie, the motion-sick giver of table-top speeches, was taking a jog. It wasn't long before he broke into a jog himself, coming up alongside her.

"Good morning!" he greeted her cheerily.

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

Somebody was jogging up to meet her. Yuffie didn't alter her pace any; just kept on going. If somebody wanted to join her, then they'd better be able to keep up with her. It wasn't like she was going anywhere fast, and this jog was like a Malboro's (assuming they had legs under all that… slime) in comparison to her flat-out sprinting speed. She checked her peripheral vision, blinking when she recognized the guy—had to have been a guy, she'd thought just before; the footfalls were too heavy to be a chick's—as the one who'd talked to her… a while ago. Motion sickness and buses and Doyleton shrubberies, right?

She offered a grin, breaking off her song. It took her a second, and a verbal fumble, to switch languages back again. "Hey there," she greeted. "Didn't think anybody was gonna join me. Too 'early', not enough coffee, blah blah blah."

Of course, Yuffie'd have been more than happy to go it alone. Had been prepared to. Enjoyed it, really, when there wasn't anything keeping her tied. But, well, as long as he didn't expect her to slow down for his benefit at any time, she figured she could let him hang around for a bit. Could've done worse for company, near total stranger though he was. His name had been something uncommonly common, something like— "John Smith, right?