Day 48: Men's Showers [Fourth Shift]

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

After a rough morning, Lunch was actually fairly easy to sit through.  Sechs and Kibitoshin hardly knew him, so light conversation was fine.  The things from Breakfast and this morning though, would be sticking with him for a while.  When the nurse arrived to take him to showers, he was relieved to find he was the first one there.  With that, there would be fewer questions about some of his injuries.  They weren't obvious most of the time, but in the showers, one couldn't exactly hide them. 

He took off the eyepatch at the nurse's insistence, along with the rest of the institute's standard uniform.  There was the locket too, from Aaron, that the nurse told him she'd keep an eye on.  That done, he went about the usual routine, scrubbing out his hair first and slicking it back before he soaped up.  While some of the injuries had quickly become nothing but scars, there were still a few remaining, the deep cut in his neck, right above his collarbone was still in stitches, though it'd closed up and started to heal.  He couldn't see it, but he ran his thumb along the length of it, feeling a slight stinging sensation as the soap reached it. 

Once finished, he dressed and let his nurse re-fit the wounds with new bandages and a fresh and clean white medical eyepatch.  His hair was starting to get a bit long, he noticed, but maybe he'd wait a bit longer before he asked them to cut it.  Still, he dried it as much as he could, then headed out of the showers.

[to here]

Comments

[arc-wrench.livejournal.com]

Oh, this might just spoil his good mood. But he was going to do his best not to let that happen, no matter how many naked meatbags there were in here today! HK found a shower in a corner of the room, far enough away from any nurses that they couldn't see he was protecting the Decepticon insignia on the inside of his wrist from getting washed away. The ink seemed quite stubborn, but so was HK.

He was not going to let it get smudged, nor let the fact that his meatbagness was currently entirely obvious, nor the fact that the room would soon be invaded by naked meatbags bother him! He had every reason to be happy today, kriff it!

[Free!]

[war-wounds.livejournal.com]

Well, it was no wonder humans kept themselves covered if they looked this ridiculous. Ratchet still wasn't used to clothing-- it felt odd to have something on him that wasn't him. Now, though, he couldn't wait to have it back on. At least then he didn't have to see the grotesque alien bonebag he was stuck in directly.

Careful not to slip on the tile (since even such a minor thing as a fall would probably damage him now), he picked out an empty water nozzle and twisted what must have been the control valve. The water was cold, as expected. What Ratchet hadn't expected was just how incredibly awful it felt. "Primus damnit!"

There really was no end to the tortures in this place, was there?

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

Oh right, this. This was always weird. Beelzemon struggled his way out of his clothes, wandering over to a shower and remembering not to stand under the bit that sprayed water until he made sure it wasn't going to freeze him solid like it did last time. It wasn't like he'd ever bothered with being clean when he was a Digimon, 'specially not as Impmon. Who cared? He hadn't. And living out on the streets or in the park hadn't really helped matters either.

It didn't help make things any less weird that every time he looked down, he could see his tail tattooed onto his right leg. Why couldn't that sneezy guy on the intercom let him keep that at least? He liked his tail! He liked his wings better, but those were tattoos now too, just visible when he turned his head enough to look over his shoulder. It looked so dumb having them just drawn on him like that.

Dah, whatever. He was just gonna get clean, cause the nurse lady had said she wasn't gonna let him leave if he didn't, and there were some of those big guys around that he couldn't just punch straight through. The kept on watching him now too, after he'd gone after that one dumb kid yesterday. Man he hated that guy.

[Free!]

[justawaketylor.livejournal.com]

Tylor was a bit surprised to find out he'd slept half the day, but only a bit surprised, and too happy to think about it long when informed he'd woken up in time for a bath.

The enjoyment of getting ready to bathe was dimmed a bit as he was led into a tiled room that was clean, and neat, and definitely had people washing off... but no sign of a bath. Sulking and carrying a towel over one arm, Tylor walked around, gawking openly at the other patients in his attempt to see any sign of real bathing, before he stopped at a showering man who was covered in tattoos.

"Oh, that's so impressive! Did that take a long time to have done?" Shifting closer, Tylor pointed and grinned widely. "I wouldn't have the guts for something like that, I've heard it hurts."

[loyal-soldier.livejournal.com]

622 was glad for a chance to get clean, although he could have done without the nurse telling him every three minutes that even though his stitches were out, the cuts on his leg were still healing and he should be careful with them. It wasn't as if he couldn't tell himself, he felt the pull of the healing gashes every time he took a step.

The nurse removed the bandage from his leg and he efficiently took off his clothes, heading for the closest shower and turned it on, sighing contentedly as the water hit his skin. He started scrubbing himself down, although admittedly he might have been taking a bit more time than he needed. He just liked the feel of the hot water.

[Free!]

[no-barbarian.livejournal.com]

Food and a shower, two of the best things in life. It was just too bad that two of the best things in life currently took place in Hell itself, but Teisel was working on that.

Even if he wasn't making much progress.

Still, there was no point in breaking out of a demonic insane asylum with greasy hair, so he settled in to work. This was always such a time-consuming- "Aw, damnit." The shampoo bottle was only a quarter full. That definitely wasn't going to be enough. The guy next to him had short hair, surely he wouldn't mind if Teisel borrowed his shampoo. And if he did mind...well, screw him. This was an important matter of hygiene.

"Hey, buddy, mind if I use this?" he asked, leaning over to grab the bottle.

[lawful_perfect]

[Edited to avoid major time conflict with Lana Skye in the Sun Room]

After several days without bathing, the choice between cleanliness and modesty was a ridiculously easy one for von Karma. The trick was to do it as quickly as possible in order to maximize the latter, preferably before anyone else had a chance to enter the shower room.

On his way to the showers, von Karma stopped at the bulletin board to remove his note to Ms. Taura. As he did so, something caught his attention. Hmmm... what was this? A note to a man named "Phoenix" that had yet to be answered? Could this "Phoenix" be the very same as that wretched rookie defense attorney who made the ludicrous implication in court that shared names could be used as decisive evidence?

...Had the blasted Head Lunatic snatched yet another of von Karma's nemeses away from him before he had even had a chance to destroy them?

There was only one quick way to find out. But just as he started to address the nurse about this matter, she interrupted him, grabbing his wrist and tugging him away from the board. "Now, now, Mr. Fuchs, quit dawdling here! It's shower time!"

Hmph. Very well. He would ask afterwards. Besides, it was imperative that he bathe himself before too many more men could enter the shower room.

As it turned out, three men were already in there, but they seemed to be keeping to themselves. Good. von Karma intended to extend the same courtesy to them.

As he disrobed, he looked at his right shoulder in the mirror. The last time he had had the opportunity to do so was just before that butcher tore open his shoulder to re-insert the damned bullet into it. Yes, there was yet another scar overlaid upon the existing ones. At this point, the prospect of tearing out the blasted mind-tampering object was looking more attractive; how much more irreparable damage could he add to this sheer flaw in the process of doing so? Martin Landel! I will see to it that you get the death penalty and that your estate pays every penny for the removal of these scars!

He headed into a remote section of the showers, far away from the other patients, and cleansed himself of the grime that had accumulated over the past few days. Five minutes under the shower wasn't nearly enough time for his liking, but he didn't want to stay in here for longer than was necessary, lest more men enter the shower room before he was clothed again.

After quickly drying and dressing himself, the older man headed out into the Sun Room.

[To the Sun Room to unknowingly run into his "buddy" Mr. Scar. XD ]

[screwthegods]

After a lunch spent in solitude, Homura made his way to the showers. The silence of being alone failed to bother him; he'd spent too many years that way to not mind such quiet. Besides, his thoughts could provide more than adequate distraction, moving from one problem to the next with no immediate solutions. He knew from far too many years in the Heavens that time moved mercilessly slow, and in times like these, Landel's didn't hold enough interest for him to temper the frustration, and the impatience. Having the advantage of control over a situation made the downtime tolerable, and that assurance was something Homura lacked then. Their progress had been slow at best, and what few advantages the group had, Homura wouldn't advertise. Then there were the people there--for the dead, this second chance at life had its frustrations, certainly, but they had a chance in this world, if they could survive. No, Homura's concern then was with the dying, the thin frame of a man he cared far too much for hunched over in coughs he tried unsuccessfully to keep the world from hearing.

How could he save him?

Homura knew the time would soon come when he would have to break his promise to Okita. Even if it meant the man came to despise him, Homura wouldn't let his resources go to waste. If there was anything the healers could do, even to simply slow down the progression of the disease, to give Okita a few more days--and what good would it really do? Homura smirked as he stepped under the heated spray. A few days to accomplish nothing? This place could require centuries to unlock at the rate they moved. How much could days really mean, when death still gripped his chest and squeezed out his breath? No, it was a selfish desire, and Homura wouldn't pretend otherwise. That was something he hated about the gods: their attempts to veil their greed in pretty virtues. Homura didn't want Okita to die. Even if it was only a few more days, it would be worth it. The emptiness might inevitably come, but pushing that loneliness back was worth the struggle.

Homura ran his hands through his hair then, then pulled one away to study the palm. Nothing but his own skin; it seemed that the last of the glitter had finally washed away.

[Kenren]

[opposingheaven.livejournal.com]

"I never put much stock in reading the future from people's palms myself."

Kenren slid up behind Homura, close enough that Homura would know that he was there, but not close enough to touch and get themselves pounced upon by rabid orderlies. He was glad for the chance to get clean and the chance to bug Homura a little, although the solemn, far away expression on Homura's face worried him just a little. He knew that the other god must have a lot on his mind and well, he was here to keep people's spirits up, right?

He pulled away a little, letting the water hit him, damping his hair down against his skull.

[winged_moon]

Though he'd noticed Fai's presence when he entered Yue chose to ignore it for a number of reasons, not the least of which was the fact that he was still displeased about the magician's comments when they'd spoken that morning. He seemed to be in a hurry anyway, so Yue didn't bother to so much as glance in his direction as the guardian moved into the shower room and chose an empty spot well removed from the others present. Cleanliness had been far simpler at home, when he hadn't had to deal with everything that he did here, and do so with barely a fraction of his power available to him.

He suppressed a faint sigh and turned on the water, fussing with the controls until it was somewhere just shy of glacial runoff, then pulled his hair forward and began slowly pulling it out of its braid as he stared unseeing at the silvery strands. With the conversation with Fai that morning brought to mind once more, his uncertain had returned with full force. What were they going to do tonight? Their options for exploration were even more limited now, not that he wanted to drag Sakura into any further danger. But what was left? Sitting in their rooms and passively waiting for something, anything to happen?

[for Touya]

[guardiancomplex.livejournal.com]

Touya had no idea what to make of the day. Or, really, the lack of day.

Maybe he'd just needed time to process what he and Sakura had spoken about the night before. It was... a little hard to believe, but the pieces seemed to fit. If Yue had been in love with Clow, and Clow had just sort of vanished off the face of the earth leaving his creations behind, it was no wonder Yue felt jilted or left behind or abandoned. And worse, it was very possible that the object of his affections had died while he had been waiting for a new master. A master that would have to replace Clow. But just as Touya believed no one could replace his mother, probably no one could replace Clow.

He'd woken up and thought about the possibilities, then fallen asleep again turning them over and over in his head. And as a result, he'd slept most of the day away. But his nurse was insisting that he at least get a shower before dinner. Touya wasn't complaining--not taking at least a shower every day was getting a little gross.

Of course, he remembered about halfway into the doorway that he and Yuki showered together. 'Helpful' reminders of the night they'd spent alone didn't help things at all, because now all he could see was Yuki in (tastefully) nude poses in his mind.

It felt incredibly wrong to be having these sorts of thoughts when his elementary school-aged sister was in the building.

But this left him with a dilemma: stand next to Yuki and (in so many words) claim his territory before anyone tried to flirt with him, or maintain a distance and keep certain things separate so as to not give Yuki the wrong idea?

"Thomas!"

Touya blinked out of his trance and looked down at his nurse. She had a hand on her hip and was holding a towel. Right. Getting undressed.

In the end, Touya ended up making a beeline for Yue and Yuki's back. He'd missed lunch, no doubt they were a little worried...

"Hey," he said, deliberately looking forward and nowhere else. "Sorry, I slept through lunch. I'm alright, though."

[tartaros-avatar.livejournal.com]

Well, this wasn't usually the most pleasant part of the day, but it had certainly had its moments before. Recluse ignored his nurse as usual, disrobing quickly and finding an unoccupied stretch of showers, choosing one and turning on the water. He closed his eyes, the room still far too bright for comfort, but the hot water helped soothe the relatively minor headache he was dealing with today. It probably helped that Landel was obviously sick, however minor a discomfort it might be for the verbose bastard.

Any little inconvenience would make things more difficult for Landel to keep this operation running.

[Free!]

[dualistic]

It was never going to be pleasant for Harvey to take a shower in this place. He'd learned by now that trying to argue with the nurses was a lost cause, though, and so he let himself be led into the steamy room with little more than a scowl on his face. (Which was more or less how he always looked, but it was emphasized.) He got the feeling that the steam would be good for his wound, too, and yet they refused to let him remove the bandages even now.

How ridiculous. All of the patients here had probably seen equal or worse at night, but the nurses constantly wanted to play along with this act.

Part of him wondered if they'd really put up a fuss if he started to take the wrappings off once he was already showering, but he didn't want to underestimate them and then end up sedated as a result.

Walking into the room, Harvey found himself next to a burly man who he'd spoken to a few times before. Recluse, right? He would never be able to take that name seriously, but that wasn't the issue now. Not one to start up a conversation in this sort of setting, the man instead got his water going and then slowly worked his body under it.

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

Public showers weren't a big deal but it'd been awhile since he'd actually had to make use of one. As an officer, he had his own quarters on the ship, which meant that'd come with its own wash area too. McCoy couldn't complain too much all the same. He hadn't had a decent shower since he got here: he was starting to feel a little less than human.

The doctor stripped off and stepped under a shower head. It took a moment's fumbling to get the temperature to a comfortable one. McCoy was startled for a second to find that warm water came cascading out. Water showers just weren't common on a starship. There was the matter of rationing resources and water for a simple shower wasn't on that list. After being stuck with sonic showers for over a year, he had to admit that a nice, easy water shower was a pleasant change. A sonic shower might be more efficient in getting everything off but there was something nice and simple about a flow of warm water. You just couldn't beat it.

Admit it, you're a sensualist, McCoy thought, even as he sat back and enjoyed the actual shower. Spock had accused him of it last year when he'd mentioned looking forward to food that wasn't reconstituted, but it looked like the Vulcan was completely right in the end. So he was a sensualist on some level. He had a warm shower and he was going to enjoy it.

It was a relief in more ways than one. He closed his eyes, rubbed at his temple with his hand. The warm water managed to alleviate the headache that had been growing since morning, for now at least.

[doneinthree]

Buoyed by his first productive encounter with a female humanoid in a long time, Kirk spent a few extra minutes teasing the nurse who came to escort him to showers. He could imagine the dry comments if a certain doctor saw him flirting so shamelessly, but it wasn't as if the nurse was having any of that. She steered him through the Sun Room and bathroom with stoic determination, and wordlessly walked off to retrieve another patient when Kirk invited her to stay and watch. Still, he could have sworn he saw her smile before turning away.

Kirk surveyed the new area as he thought back to the last time he'd had a proper shower. A little over a week ago, maybe, despite being in dire need of one long before then. It was hard to stay refreshing when in a single day, you went from sweating from an alien virus to running the whole breadth of a starship to crossing kilometers of icy tundra to duking it out with angry future Romulans twice, but somehow, Kirk had managed to retain his sparkling appeal. While Landel's did something to make him feel slightly less gross every time he woke up, a shower still seemed like the perfect addition to his good mood.

He stripped without self-consciousness (one got used to communal showering after combat classes, not that Kirk had ever been all that self-conscious about his body in the first place), and haphazardly tossed his clothes in a locker before heading in. He was surprised to realize that one of the men he'd seen inside was none other than the certain doctor he'd been thinking about before. Ten years separated McCoy from the man Kirk knew, but now that he was looking, he had to say that impressively little had changed in all that time.

"Bones!" Kirk called out just before he stepped under the adjacent shower head. He turned on the water without much worry for the fickleness of temperature as he checked out the provided shampoo. Clearly not one to care if his alternate universe best friend would prefer not to engage in a conversation under such circumstances, he shot McCoy a grin and remarked: "You know, you don't look that bad for middle age."

[lostonlifesroad.livejournal.com]

Kakashi had taken a day off. Sort of.

Instead of approaching anyone, or letting his nurse play matchmaker, the jounin instead had kept to himself for most of the day. That didn't mean he hadn't been watching for the various ninja around the Institute, and taking note of who he had and hadn't seen. With Naruto back, and Gai added into the mix, planning for the group had just become--well, interesting, if Kakashi wanted to put it nicely.

Of course, that assumed that any of them actually looked at the bulletin. Kakashi knew it might turn out to be one of those impossible tasks, but given that the board was their best means of communication, he'd still have to give it a shot. Not that it'd be so easy to do this late in the day. Given where he'd run into Gai the night before, at least his room might be easy to find. Naruto, however, was another story; hopefully Jiraiya could provide answers there.

Kakashi focused on these thoughts as he began to wash, instead of the one other meeting he'd seen arranged earlier. It'd gone without question that Sasuke and Obito would find each other eventually; they were Uchiha, and even a black sheep like Obito held too much pride in that to avoid his kin. But today, the staff had kept the children and adults largely separated, meaning that Kakashi wouldn't have any chance to observe the meeting. Not that he entirely felt he had the right to. Regardless of the dangerous element Sasuke represented, Obito deserved a level of privacy that overruled Kakashi's concerns for the village. He just had to hope that Sasuke didn't change his mind about working with the Leaf here, now that there was another Uchiha present.

As for Obito--Kakashi hadn't heard anything from the boy he'd long considered his best friend. Not since their meeting the day before, and a few impersonal notes on the bulletin. He closed his eyes, letting the spray fall directly on his face as he recalled the tears, and the rebuke. Kakashi had failed his team, and telling Obito brought that sense of guilt freshly to the surface after so many years. Kakashi never forgave himself for the decisions he'd made during the Third Ninja War, but he'd at least thought that by committing himself to a better philosophy, that as a ninja, he might be able to somehow pass on those ideals, and keep that much of Obito alive. Now, however, it didn't seem like enough, that anything he could do would be enough.

Kakashi let out a slow sigh then, and waited for Jiraiya to arrive. He needed to vent some of the thoughts, if only to clear his mind for the sake of his new team. Those people that he didn't deserve to have in his life, but that were still so precious to him--he had to hold himself together, for their sake.

[Jiraiya, strict reserve.]

[toadally4boobs.livejournal.com]

Jiraiya has also done the same, keeping to himself, but for a far different reason--porn. Or, rather, the writing of the literary form of it. He hadn't been able to find Naruto, so porn was his... er, release of frustration over that. And it kept him from having to think too deeply about how Naruto was taking news of him being alive.

The boy had gone into denial immediately. Which wasn't good. Especially since not only had Jiraiya accepted his death, but he'd be willing to die again in order to get Naruto and the others back home.

Naruto was strong, Naruto was more skilled than he had been... but he was just as stubborn as Jiraiya remembered him.

Also, his punches hurt.

Jiraiya was thinking about all this as he spotted Kakashi. He was going to have to tell him about Naruto's reaction and get some advice about it. The Copy Ninja needed to know what was going on in his student's head.

"Fancy meeting you here," Jiraiya sounded a bit gruff as he started to wash himself after he occupied the shower head next to Kakashi. "Have you seen Naruto yet?"

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

In the end, lunch had turned out to be pretty quiet. Maybe most people wouldn't have seen that as a bad thing, but Zack was always up for talking to someone, and there were definitely a lot of people around here. Whether it was just to have a fun chat or to talk about important things regarding escape, he preferred finding someone to speak to rather than just sitting by himself.

He got the feeling that the showers weren't going to be the best place to pursue that, though. While he'd often exchanged funny stories with his fellow SOLDIERs after practice in the shower room, that was different. ZEX had just told him about how this place was lacking in military people, which meant that most of the other men he was going to be showering with were likely to be shy -- or they'd just get annoyed if he tried to talk to them.

Luckily, his nurse had a solution for him. After his shower was over, he could just head into the Sun Room. It wasn't the most exciting place, especially compared to the courtyard, but Zack would make it work. He was used to taking quick showers (how many times had he been late to mission briefings?) and so he quickly soaped himself up and ran both shampoo and conditioner (it was important, with the length he had it at now!) through his hair before waltzing back over to the changing room to dry off.

He had to admit, it was pretty nice to get clean. Who knew what sort of post-death grime had been on him? Not that he really wanted to put too much thought into that.

Once he was dressed and had thoroughly toweled the water out of his hair, Zack moved out of the showers and into the Sun Room.

[longlivetheking]

Scar had already known before the intercom announcement came to disrupt their lunch; it was time for those dreaded showers again. Protests and excuses were, as usual, anything but fruitful and eventually the former lion ended up in a shower stall regardless. He glared at the contraption above him, but realized with an annoyed sigh that he wouldn't be able to leave this damp room before he had attempted to perform the ridiculous human habit of trying to clean oneself.

How terribly infuriating...

Deciding on a different tactic than rebelliously ignore the shower and eventually having to do so anyway, he chose to try and 'shower' quickly. The sooner he left this damp room, the better. So within a very short time span he stood before his nurse again, looking about as disgruntled as a cub that had been thrown into a pond as he offered the ignorant woman an expression that clearly said one thing: 'I am soaked, happy now?'.

Apparently, she was as if the praise was any indication. Scar had to roll his eyes at her reaction, but at least he could leave this room after finally getting these clothes back on.

[Closed, because he'll be off to the sun room.]

[longlivetheking]

[To here]

[number-crunch.livejournal.com]

Showers.

If there was one thing that could put a negative spin on Sho's electrons right now, it was an experience like last time he was in here. Or worse, what if that zeptoliter ZEX found him? Wary of entering the H20 domain, Sho was unusually quiet as he stripped down and entered the showering area.

Taking stock of the initial parameters, there was no sign of either Scourge or ZEX. Well, there was that other weird robot with the unique speaking algorithm, but hopefully he wouldn't try to bother Sho while he was here. Grabbing a washcloth and soap, Sho got to scrubbing, trying to make it fast as every millisecond spent in here exponentially raised the probability of his being ambushed by another freak from outer space.

[Free]

[toxicspiderman]

There was an old-fashioned charm to having someone else shave for you. Small town barber shops, where everyone knew what everyone had had for dinner last night, were humanity's answer to the conundrum of allowing another man to put several inches of sharpened metal against one of the most vulnerable parts of the human anatomy.

Sangamon Taylor was not the kind of man who spent extra money on charm, even when he'd had the cash. He used a plastic safety razor that was made in Taiwan by a company headquartered a twenty-minute bike ride -- following traffic laws -- from The Largest Yard in Brighton. It wasn't elegant, but it kept his long-haired tree-hugger look to mediagenic proportions.

S.T. ran a hand over his cheeks. Sandpaper, not the full-on stubble of a holiday weekend wilderness retreat, met his fingers. He (politely) told the German rugby team with the razor blades to shove it and found a free spigot next to a guy who was trying to take his skin off along with the dirt. S.T. cranked the water up to just short of scalding and stuck his head under in friendly silence.

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

That talk with Kenshin had been rather surprisingly enjoyable. It was nice to meet people who understood the importance of polite conversation which did not involve insults and violence. There were too few people who understood that these days. Japan at least could be counted upon. The idea of being here a month was a little disconcerting he had to admit, because he had things to do! It wasn't as though he did much personally, but... but what happened to nation when the Nation's representative wasn't present? And there was the constant niggling worry that he couldn't feel anything. His heartbeat was just a heartbeat.

He was most displeased about the shared shower facilities it had to be said. He'd shared before with his soldiers, but they had been his people, not random strangers. It was undignified! He huffily undressed and stomped into the shower, wrenching it onto the hottest setting, letting it soak his hair and skin like rain. He wasn't bad looking by any stretch of the imagination, he didn't think. But he wasn't in peak condition anymore like he had been as an empire. He was wiry rather than muscled, and his skin was dotted with scars from numerous conflicts.

[The Doctor]

[timedork]

Lunch had been pleasant, if quiet, and it seemed showers were next on the schedule. It was an odd feeling, really, to be following a schedule, and the Doctor was getting restless. Night after night he'd had little success, but tonight... Tonight would be different. He'd make sure tonight was different.

After leaving a reply to Donna's note on the board (she was really holding his glasses hostage!?), he allowed himself to be escorted to the showers. Once there and undressed, he headed for an empty showerhead, planning to bathe quickly and then head back to the sun room, maybe to find Donna.

It was a moment before he realized that he'd ended up next to Arthur Kirkland, the Englishman from the other day. Donna and her hostage-taking forgotten, he grinned at his neighbor. "Afternoon, Arthur!"

[should-be-dead.livejournal.com]

After ridding himself of those laughable garments, Tenzen took the opportunity to briefly inspect his wounds, finding them healed by now. With the parasite as dormant as it was, the ninja would've expected to heal on a normal pace, yet he knew these wounds had healed much faster than this. Was it not completely dormant after all?

The ninja eventually located an empty shower stall. At least he now knew how the contraption worked (to some extend), so now he would not be caught off guard. Deciding to regulate the temperature before stepping under the shower was a lesson Tenzen had learned by now. Only after he found the temperature passable enough he stepped below it and began to clean himself.

[Free! No limits.]

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

Even if he'd have been having the best day ever (relatively speaking), Kibitoshin knew that he'd have still felt the same old thudding horror that filled him when his nurse turned to him at the end of lunch. He knew that smile- part sympathetic, part mock-stern and part maternal. Oh, no.

"Now, now, Mr. Williams, it's only a shower."

Only a shower? Was she insane?! It was public torture and scary and too close for comfort and-

Well... maybe he was exaggerating. Just a little. But even if he was, he still managed to blush a pretty shade of pink (that was close enough to purple) as he fumbled out of his clothes and huddled into a stall next to a big looking man who looked as though he could easily have eaten him for breakfast and still had room for lunch. Maybe that meant he wouldn't try to talk to him- that type always seemed to be the stoic sort. But of course, the Kaioshin couldn't say no to manners- he offered the man a shy, awkward half-smile before quickly turning on the shower.

[rocksthecourt]

If this woman asked him one more time if he was sure he was okay, he may end up losing his resolve completely and snap very harshly at her. No, he was very much not alright. He felt horrible: disoriented, dizzy, and ill to his stomach. His head was pounding. He wasn't sure what was worse, the fact that he wasn't sure what precisely was wrong or the fact that he wasn't sure what had caused it in the first place. Aside from immense irritation and kick below the belt, he couldn't say he'd experienced anything particularly new the night before. It couldn't have been an effect of the Sphinx or the item he'd presented... could it? Did that mean the others were ill as well?

Ugh, either way, he couldn't allow himself to be confined to his room any longer. He'd already lost an entire day, so much valuable time... Wasted! This was getting ridiculous. Completely unacceptable. He couldn't allow himself to falter any further. There was far too much... too much! Too much to do and say and find and--

Wait. No. This wasn't right. Klavier brushed his hand through his hair several times in an attempt to calm himself as he was led inside. Ha, look at him. He was becoming a mess. He was letting this place get to him. What way was this for Prosecutor Gavin to behave under pressure? No matter what they continued to do and throw at him, he needed to retain his cool. Should he let himself fall in, he wouldn't have the clear head needed to get out of here sane in one piece. He needed to distance himself a bit. One thing at a time.

It was in this sense, it was a good thing he had been led out in time for showers. Cleanliness aside, it would allow himself to shut down a little and clear his mind before heading out to make up for time. With no further fuss given to his escort, Klavier undressed and headed into the first empty shower stall he saw. He closed his eyes and simply ignored everyone and everything around him, focusing only on the sound of water hitting his head and the slight hum of a song lingering in the back of his mind.

[to the Sun Room]

[idontregret.livejournal.com]

Being in the showers just reminded Heat of the last time he was there. This time Roland wouldn't be. That only served to make him angry, but he was forced to bite down the urge to slug an orderly just for existing as he'd already been drugged once that day and didn't need to repeat the process. Where would solitary confinement leave him once night fell, he wondered...

His shower was quick, shampoo and rinse and then done. Hot water or not, it was as if they were making it perfectly clear that they knew exactly what his weaknesses were. It was like a challenge, in a way. They thought they had complete control over him, and they probably wanted him to snap again. It was infuriating.

At least standing under the running water for a few moments helped him keep his cool before he left the showers.

[to the sun room (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/837388.html?thread=67126796#t67126796)]

[tender-cruelty.livejournal.com]

Ugh, showers. While he appreciated the opportunity to clean himself off after the past few nights, and to just stand and think for a while with little staff interaction, he still wasn't entirely comfortable being surrounded by so many people while in such a vulnerable state of undress. Well, there was nothing for it anyway. They just wouldn't take no for an answer and he did feel kind of disgusting by now.

He stripped off and kept a towel around his waist as he found a shower head and stepped beneath it, sliding the towel off and letting the water soak his skin and hair. It plastered his fringe to his face and he pushed it away from his eyes, shaking the water away.

[Badou]

[strayfag]

Eh, showers. He'd given up dreading them after people stopped trying to sexually assault him (but sometime before he saw Haine's junk in the harsh, blinding light of day). He might be cultivating all new species of Unclean in his old clothes but that wasn't, you know, by choice. He was just so dirty that the water was leaping to get at his face and -- oh wait that was just Alle. It still stung though. Somehow everything that could possibly cause pain seemed to go for his eye like it was a plate of Torture-Covered Masochist Surprise.

"You know, I'm not going to stop comparing you to a puppy if you do the whole wet-dog-headshake thing." He stepped under the shower head next to Alle's and grinned. "Long time no see, bro." Well, relatively speaking.

[contentincloset.livejournal.com]

By the last shift, Kurogane hadn't managed to track down anyone who would have been more helpful that the magician when it cam to information about the arena. That being so, he wasn't about to approach someone to discuss it in the showers. Little time though they had during the day, this was the last place Kurogane wanted to discuss anything, even if he'd managed a decent enough conversation with that swordsman that one time. Whatever, he wasn't in the mood.

After giving his nurse the appropriate glare, he entered the changing room, easily removed his cloths with minimal pain to his hand, and stepped over to a shower head relatively away from others. There was no embarrassment, however he didn't want anyone thinking that he was in the mood for a chat. Showers were for getting clean and that was it.

[we have not threaded before, I think! this should be rectified! :D]

[vstheworld]

There was nothing like a friendly conversation with the object of one's fandom to make one feel great for the rest of the day. Scott normally wasn't too keen on public showers (the more nudity reserved for Ramona's eyes only, the better), but he was in just too damn much of a good mood to care as much right now. He stripped down as asked, grabbed a towel to cover his junk, and went looking for a free showerhead.

Most of the free ones were next to men significantly older than him, which just didn't really rub Scott the right way, and one guy who looked like he had teeth filed to points. Proooooobably not a good idea to stand naked next to someone who could bite his arms off at a moment's notice. He kept going until he found one next to a guy about his own age that didn't heave built-in weaponry attached. Leaning his crutch against the back wall, he carefully hobbled across the wet floor and turned on the shower spray.

As he reached for the shampoo, he noticed the other guy had bandages around one hand. Seeing that resonated a bit with the bandages around his own shoulder and leg. Between himself, Kurt, this guy, and everyone else he'd seen around in various states of injury, he had to wonder how the staff could possibly convince themselves that people here just tended to fall out of bed a lot. "What happened to your hand?" he asked as he squirted some shampoo into his good hand. Scott Pilgrim had never been known for his tact.

[catstreetblues.livejournal.com]

Sanae always looked forward to a shower, and this one more so than others in the past. He'd talked with Neku, so that was out of the way, but it still felt like he'd added to his load rather than reduced it. So a shower, a chance to just engage in something mostly mindless, was welcome indeed.

Once he entered the showers, however, his agenda quickly changed. Minamimoto was afoot, and Sanae, although he knew that the Reaper had said everything he'd wanted to earlier, didn't feel like being in the same room as him for a prolonged period of time, as talking with Neku had only accentuated just how much he'd probably misjudged Minamimoto's worthiness as Composer and how much he'd underestimated Joshua. Both were irking, and Sanae preferred to confront them without having a nude Reaper in the immediate vicinity.

So in the end, he kept his shower short, dried himself off as quickly as he could, and then headed for the Sun Room and a temporary reprieve.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/837388.html)]

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Even though Shinji had seemed shy and withdrawn, Claude hoped that he'd take him up on his offer if he ever needed any help. Maybe he'd find the time to check in on Shinji again later. Until then, he'd just have to keep his fingers crossed that the boy and his friends would be able to manage fine.

Before heading into the showers, Claude took a brief moment to check the board. Still no word from Dias or Dad. He wasn't about to panic, but the lack of news was starting to make him feel uncomfortable. Still, it was probably nothing, he told himself. Dad was in his prime and ready for anything, and Dias was...well, Dias.

He tried to put that aside along with his clothes before stepping into the shower. But when it came to people he cared about, it was difficult to just temporarily shut down his concern as though he were flipping an 'off' switch. Whenever he was alone, he had a tendency to think himself so far out that it was difficult to think himself back.

Well, he'd just have to keep doing whatever he could to make this place more bearable for other people, Claude decided as he found an empty shower head and turned it on. The warm water cascaded down his back, and he briefly closed his eyes. All things considered, he'd had a pretty good day, despite some of the unsettling things he'd heard about some issues, and the unnerving silence about others.

Claude reached for the shampoo and began lathering himself up.

[For Guy, strict reserve.]

[nobleman]

Coming out of that talk with Edgar, Guy felt like he was walking on clouds as he moved into the changing room that preceded the showers. His mind was already putting together dazzling mental images of how that Air Launcher would look when it was put into action, and he could only wish that he'd get to see it with his own eyes sometime. He knew that it would be an indulgence, but he almost wanted to believe that he was allowed one, after everything he'd been through.

Hell, he'd died at the hands of that God-General. Wasn't he allowed to alleviate some of the constant stress he was under by getting to satisfy his technological curiosity? He knew that Luke probably wouldn't give more of an reaction than rolling his eyes, but he felt as if he should ask anyway.

Which reminded him: he needed to get a hold of Luke over the bulletin to figure out what was going on tonight. The younger man had told him they'd be working together again this time, but he wasn't sure if the brainwashing had changed anything.

He'd worry about that after the shower. Focusing instead on what he'd talked about at lunch, Guy happily undressed and then moved into the showering room. It'd feel nice to get properly clean, and it wasn't long before he saw a familiar form washing up. He hadn't checked on Claude yet today, so why not?

"Hey!" he greeted as he walked over. They'd spoken in the showers before, so Guy didn't think much of greeting the other man so casually. He took the shower head next to Claude's and turned it on, waiting for the water to warm up.

[herr-inspektor.livejournal.com]

Even Lunge had to admit, a shower after last night was deeply satisfying,. just hot enough to ease the ache of bruises and muscles in his side. Curious how none of the dust and grit from the church last night had carried over into the day, though. There was something uncomfortably personal in the thought that he didn't want to linger on particularly- he dried off and redressed quickly before moving into the Sun Room again.

[beloved-less.livejournal.com]

There was little point contemplating how troubling his days were here. Nothing made sense, so he decided, for the rest of the day, to just stop worrying. He turned the heat as hot as it could do, to stop his body aching from addiction. It was unsatisfying, so he went the other way and stood under a cold spray. Once he was numb (and washed) he headed back out to the sun room (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/837388.html?thread=67129612#t67129612).

[swornandbroken.livejournal.com]

Mello was offended by the very idea of group showers. He waited with impatience and annoyance he didn't bother trying to hide while the nurse put a protective covering over the sling. He'd started to feel more like his usual self again, even having given an amused snort at the intercom announcement. But he was still unsteady on his feet, and still had trouble hanging onto a train of thought. He was trying to remember if Shinichi were S or not when he realized that made no sense. You blew yourself the hell up and barely rested after, he told himself sternly. That was not worse than this. So get a fucking grip, and focus.

He found the free shower closest to the door, and washed up as quickly as he could one-handed. Getting his hair clean was a relief. It had been starting to feel gross. His appetite was starting to come back. Only one thing he wanted to eat, though, and fat fucking chance of getting it here.

[off to the Sun Room (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/837388.html?thread=67152396#t67152396)]

[slipperymagic.livejournal.com]

Howl's enthusiasm for life at large always increased dramatically at the promise of a shower. However, it was almost ruined by the nurse's warning that there was still a time limit on how long he was allowed to spend washing, despite his most impassioned pleas. Oh, and they were indeed impassioned.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Jenkins, but not only is it for your own good, but it's beyond my control!" the young woman insisted as she put distance back between herself and Howl.

"I feel no better for your obvious lack of empathy," he shot back in his best vulnerable voice. Howl didn't need to feign how deeply that wounded him, but he still accentuated it for good measure. He turned his face away, and a wave of dark hair slid over one glassy eye. (Would it have been more effective if he were blond, he wondered.) Every inch of him painted a picture of a man worn thin from the stress of not being able to preen for a minimum of two hours every morning. Surely that was not good for his mental health! He could dramatically insist he not shower at all if he was going to be limited... but then he ran the risk of actually having to follow through on the threat.

Either way, the nurse seemed relieved to be free of him, and once she was gone Howl gave up on the act. It hadn't accomplished what he needed anyway, and there was no one in the shower whose sympathy he craved. He stripped quickly, and attempted to put all thoughts of who was watching and how he compared to the rest of the Landel's male population. It was only a moderate success.

Howl found an open shower head where he washed himself meticulously. His routine was drastically changed by the lack of spells and cosmetics, but he did what he could, scrubbing himself raw until he heard his name called. His time, it seemed, had ran out. As before, he pretended not to hear for several moments until an orderly physically interrupted him. Howl had already decided to make the man's duty as difficult as he could from now until the time he was passed off to the next uniformed employee.

[To the Sun Room (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/837388.html?thread=67153420#t67153420).]

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

Despite his inclination to remain in the shower for a while longer, Javert had no real reason to do so today. Not enough had taken place in the last few days to warrant it. Besides, he had never been one for wasting time. He washed quickly, dressed, and left.

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]