Day 50: Intercom, Evening

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

As expected, after the allotted amount of time had passed, the nurses started to move through the waiting rooms to inform the visitors that it was time for them to leave, whereas in the Sun Room King Kong was turned off and the staff quickly sprung to action to put the equipment away.

Meanwhile, the sound of intercom turning on cut into the hustle and bustle, but it was Lydia's voice which came through. "Mr. Landel is taking a quick nap," was all she said by way of explanation, as she seemed to be beyond making lengthy excuses for the man. "Nurses, once the visitors have said their goodbyes, escort the patients back to their rooms for dinner. Tonight there is steak and fries on the menu, with a slice of cheesecake for dessert and vegetarian options if requested.

"Enjoy your food and have a good sleep." Keeping it short, the intercom then turned off.

Comments

M62

[lawful_perfect]

[OOC: One of these days, I WILL NOT BE UTTER FAIL AT A DINNER SHIFT. >:[ Hopefully, this one might be it! (Major apologies for the previous ones to Kat, ORZ.)]

von Karma was only marginally grateful to be led back to his room after the psychologically-charged meeting he had just had. What in bloody hell did Martin Landel think he was doing, sending those two frauds who looked, sounded, and even acted nearly like Lena and Sophie?! And then to insinuate that he was abandoning his family in favor of one of his students?!

Then almost as though perfectly timed, a name flashed into his mind. Edgeworth.

...Blast it! He had never abandoned Franziska for that miserable brat! Never! Just because he had been focused on giving the Edgeworth bloodline its due did not imply neglect of his own von Karma legacy.

In fact, he even had evidence to the contrary: his own progeny was prepared and ready to interrogate him tonight over this alleged attack upon the Edgeworth spawn two weeks and one night ago. Needless to say, he was hardly looking forward to this. It had been bad enough that he had stood trial before the people of Los Angeles, his ignominy exposed and published in every newspaper and tabloid. The death sentence had swiftly put an end to his public shame.

But here at Landel's Hellhole, while death lurked in every corner at night, there was no law nor order. Should Franziska find him "guilty," how would she go about sentencing him here? Yet... should she fail to do so... The lines in the elder prosecutor's brow furrowed. No. No one of von Karma blood failed to find their defendants guilty. No one.

Perfunctorily, he started in on his dinner, hoping that his foolish roommate would leave him be. No, this was not the evening to tolerate having food thrown at him or answer inane questions. He had to concentrate... to prepare for the fateful trial in Waiting Room 1 tonight.

[war-wounds.livejournal.com]

Today had been, as usual, unproductive. Picking at his fuel (once again blissfully carcass-free), Ratchet mulled over his options for the night. No matter where he aimed to go, it didn't seem too likely he'd get there if the building kept shifting around like it had last night. In any event, he needed to find some kind of clue as to where his real body was being kept. It had to be somewhere.

Sighing, he shoved the fuel around on the plate. Of course, even if he found his chassis, he had no idea how he'd ended up in this one. "You've been here longer than I have," he said, pointing at his roommate with his fork. "I don't suppose you've run across any robots?" He thought for a moment. "Or an ambulance, maybe?" He didn't have very high hopes, but it couldn't hurt to ask, assuming the man would be civil for once.

M71

[tightsofmight]

Tater tots.

Of all the things Landel could have used to guard his office, Peter was not expecting this. Much larger than the average tot (but no less delicious), they stood to about your knee, each armed with a laser scouter much like the one Cyclops had. Make that exactly like the one Cyclops had, as they suddenly shot hot red beams at their feet when the group approached, singeing the linoleum floor.

"None shall pass!" they chanted as one.

"Stay back!" Peter held his crew at bay with a forceful hand, eying the line of defense for weaknesses. Goddammit, if only they had some decent ketchup, this would be a snap. You needed Heinz to fight tater tots, and all he had was Del Monte.

"What'll we do, Peter?"

"I'm working on it, Buzz!"

There was a pause. "But...I'm Brainy."

"Then why are you dressed like Buzz Lightyear?" Peter snapped at the other boy. "God, we do not have time for this! We've already lost too many men tonight."

"Mon frère!" Senna wailed, covering her face with her hands. Keman frowned and gently took her into his arms, patting her back as she wept despairingly into his silken ascot. "Mon Diego...Il est mort..."

Peter hung his head in shame. It had been a terrible voyage at sea; violent rains and heaving waves threatening to tip the ship at any given moment. But no one had expected that narwhal to leap out of the water and spear poor Diego, dragging him into the deep on his horn.

Alas, he was too young.

"Turn back or face extermination," the tots chorused, rolling closer. "None shall pass."

"Enough!" He turned to his right and held his hand out expectantly. "Badou, give me the tack gun."

"Sure thing, Snowflake." The older man fished into his garter and drew out the weapon from amongst the bed of cigarettes there, calmly passing it over. Peter swiftly checked the magazine - fully loaded, thumbtacks of every colour at the ready. He cocked the gun and fixed the tots with a fearsome glare.

"Everyone, aim for the laser things! ...Thingies. Whatever. Once we take those out they'll be defenseless!"

"Vive la resistance!!" Senna shouted through her tears, holding her pipe aloft.

And the war began. Peter was swift and merciless, taking out two scouters with well aimed tacks, the glass shattering on impact with the pin. He crushed the now weaponless tots under his boots, ducking just in time to miss being hit by the tot Indy had sent flying with a sound whack of his bulletin board.

A scream to his right distracted him. Terry had been shot, falling limply into a wailing Kurt's arms. "No!" Peter whispered, rising in horror. It couldn't be! Terry couldn't die!

Logan shot into his vision, his own guns raised and aimed at Peter's head. "Parker! Behind you!"

The warning jolted him into action just in time to dodge a shot from behind, the heat of the laser nearly burning his ear as it passed. Peter whipped around, guns drawn -

- and fell onto the floor.

"UWAGH!"

He hissed, cupping his cheek where it had banged against the floor and slowly rising into a sit. One foot was still tangled in the bedsheets, suspended in the air with the sheet twisted into a knot around it.

The scent of freshly cooked meat drew his attention to the desk. He blinked up at it, willing the sight into focus. A tall glass of water stood near the top, and he could see the underside of a dinner tray just peeking over the edge.

Peter gaped, hot embarrassment flushing his cheeks. He had slept through the whole day.

...And now he had the maddest craving for some tater tots.

....wow I have not laughed so hard in ages. THAT WAS AMAZING.

[emotionl4arobot.livejournal.com]

The day had started out to promising, what with the discovery of the omnicom in his room and catching up with the Doctor as well as having some time to put more thought into his plans here, but after the surprise meeting with Grell and then his discussion with Venom, Brainiac 5 wasn't really in the same good spirits he'd been in during the morning. Fortunately dinner time in his room with Peter offered some measure of relief. Somewhere that he didn't have to worry about Grell suddenly showing up, not to mention someone he could talk to about what had been happening.

Plus there was the added bonus of being able to show Peter the omnicom and discuss what he planned to do with it. Unless it had been affected somehow by the institute - something he couldn't entirely rule out, from what had been mentioned of other technologies here, not to mention superhuman abilities - then it would at the very least offer him a range of options and make it substantially easier for him to work on an escape plan. They could hopefully even use it to contact someone in a position to aid everyone here.

The ideas still spinning through his head, Brainiac 5 was feeling surprisingly impatient by the time they reached his and Peter's room. The sooner the two of them were alone, the better, so he managed to persuade the nurse to hand him his tray outside for a change and then let himself into the room, closing the door firmly and turning to find...

...Peter sprawled on the floor.

Brainiac 5 stared for a moment, surprise delaying his reaction, then he quickly set the tray down and approached the other boy's side.

"Peter? Are you... You're not hurt, are you?" he asked, trying to remind himself not let too much concern bleed into his voice.

F28

[mistressmadgirl.livejournal.com]

By the time dinner came around, Agatha was recovered. Mostly. Sort of.

Well, at least her more homicidal impulses had subsided. That Nurse was an annoying lackey of the enemy again, rather than the immediate representation of all that was wrong, and the not-Clays were... well, they were something Agatha would prefer not to think about but which still kind of made her want to hurt something. Von Pinn again, if at all possible, or maybe Landel, you know, while she was daydreaming...

Of course, not being in a killing rage was not exactly the be-all and end-all of things being fine. After being escorted back to her cell, Agatha just ate quickly, her eyes a little too wide and her mind as placidly blank as she could keep it. Which wasn't very.

F28

[scientist-skye.livejournal.com]

Ema was escorted into the room a short time after Agatha, still rubbing her eyes from holdover grogginess. She'd convinced the nurses to take her to the library fourth shift--it was the quietest place she could think of, since the Sun Room had been transformed into a movie theater--and curled up in a chair. The next thing the young would-be scientist knew, her nurse was gently shaking her awake and informing her that it was time for dinner. While Ema was slightly surprised that ambient noise from the library didn't keep her awake, she was grateful; the headache that had been slowly increasing in intensity over the course of the day had finally faded to a dull annoyance between her ears.

All things considered, Ema felt pretty all right. Agatha and Lana had been a huge help in the morning, and her discussion with Mr. Gavin hadn't gone nearly as disastrously as it could have. After the previous night, it had been a relatively good day.

One look at Agatha's face suggested that her roommate had not been so lucky. "A-are you okay?"

M110

[idontregret.livejournal.com]

Heat sat at the head of his bed, arms not so much crossed as wrapped around himself, and stared blankly at the opposite wall. His food was, of course, forgotten on his desk. The smell of it caused the hungry emptiness of his stomach to be all the more apparent.

All he could see at the moment was Seraph's smiling face. Who knew how long it would be until he got to see it again? There was no denying that Landel had won this round, leaving him in mental anguish for the rest of the evening. The demon was almost glad for the hunger, as it served as a reminder of his true self and could keep him focused that night. He'd have to hunt, or the incident with Roland would repeat itself and there were no other comrades of his here to help him.

But for now, he was content just to sit and replay the events of the last shift in his head until the doors opened again.

Re: M110

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

Aw, why'd that movie have to end? Sure, it looked like a more chunky, more stupid-sounding giant Etemon went after a lady who could screech like nothing else and then just hung around looking confused until he fell and died and that was pretty depressing, but still!

At least the food looked good, and that was something. Didn't look like anything he was used to. "Hey, wha's this stuff?" he said, pointing to the yellow things. That got him a funny look from the nurse lady for some reason he didn't get. "They're french fries, Derek. You must have had them growing up in New York, didn't you?" "...Fried what?"

And then the nurse lady just sort of... ignored him after that and told him to have a good night, then left. He turned to his roommate, still confused. "Seriously, fried what? I ain't ever seen this stuff before."

M60

[tsunagari.livejournal.com]

Without even realizing he was doing it at first, Sai paced back and forth down the middle of the room, lost in thought. He had to meet with Artemis that night, but at the same time steer clear of Okita. That could prove to be a difficult task. He didn't think the other man knew where they were headed, so once they'd gotten outside and over the walls they would hopefully be fine. Unfortunately, he didn't know that for a fact, and getting that far in the first place might prove difficult - especially since Okita had seen him with Artemis the night prior and could get to him by following the boy. The smarter thing to do would be to avoid meeting up that night at all, but Artemis needed his help...

The ninja stopped at the desk when he finally caught what he was doing and stared at the dinner set there. As usual, he took the cheesecake and set it at Honey's place. He regretted not asking for more salad as he took a seat and just stared at the steak for a while. This whole situation was problematic.

F14

[repeatingfate.livejournal.com]

Rika was quiet as she entered her room. She supposed she must have fallen asleep, only catching a glimpse of short blonde hair and a green dress as the person wearing it walked away.

Satoko.

She had wanted to call out, to tell her to wait, but she hadn't. All Rika could do was watch her friend turn and leave, all of her words caught behind a lump in her throat. She couldn't speak, couldn't move.

Instead, she'd merely gone quietly back, trying to find - if not a brave face, a happy face to show her roommate. She was better at that than she should be, digging deep and remembering happier times. All those 'battles of five evils' at Watanagashi, all the games, all the club activities.

...maybe tomorrow she'd try to start something like that. A game club could be fun, even if she wasn't a natural leader.

Re: F14

[gald_digger]

All in all, it had been a decently productive day. Anise learned a few things about the ruins from Aidou, she spent some quality time with Claude, and she finally touched base with Natalia after what felt like a really long time. Now, was the night going to go just as smoothly?

...Well, it couldn't be as messed-up as last night, right?

"'Evening!" the girl sang when she spotted her roommate already in the room. The steak on her desk was also a welcome sight. Maybe she could get the recipe off a staff member, like she did for their chocolate cake. Then when she got home to Auldrant, she could auction off the alien recipes at outrageous prices...

Hey, a girl could always hope.

Anise sat down at her desk, picking up her fork and flashing Rika a friendly smile before starting to eat. "So, how've you been?"

F5

[givemeoblivion.livejournal.com]

There was only one block for female patients, so Callisto wasn't surprised to be led in that direction. She wasn't really all that surprised to be taken into a different hall and room once in it, either. After all, if she'd been gone for a week then chances were everyone had been moved around. She'd seen it happen while she'd been in the Institute prior to her death.

The meal served was typical Landel's fare. Perhaps that's what happened to those that simply disappeared - they were fed to some monster in the catacombs after being stuffed full of food day after day. Wouldn't that be a pleasant surprised to those that hoped the best for their missing friends? It was doubtful, though, considering they weren't exactly forced to eat most of the time, and nurses encouraging someone who'd already skipped a meal or two didn't really count for much.

Callisto ignored the steak for the moment, poking at the cheesecake with her fork instead before taking a bite. ...That was definitely going to be eaten first.

F5

[mind-the-sukima.livejournal.com]

If Callisto was expecting a different roommate, however... she was sorely mistaken.

After a journey that, much like this morning, had involved waking her up several times along the way and keeping her from falling asleep on her feet, Yukari finally made it back to her room, stepping inside and regarding Callisto in much the way one regards a mirage or deja-vu - with a sense of detached curiosity with underlying doubt and dismissal.

"This seems familiar somehow," she muttered, still watching Callisto suspiciously as she moved around the woman to her desk. Having not really eaten all day, her stomach was putting up some protests to the simply "go to bed right now" plan of inaction.

M64

[arc-wrench.livejournal.com]

Cheesecake? Why would he ever like something meatbags invented called "cheesecake"? It didn't even involve anything interesting to attract his attention!

Really, HK just wanted this bit to end so that he could go team up with Lugnut (probably), set out to fulfill some meaningful objective (hopefully) and kill something along the way (oh by the Maker, let it happen, please).

Until then, he was left here. Staring at this... cheesecake. Urgh, yuck.

M7

[mitase.livejournal.com]

Hanatarou had halfway wished to get a visitor himself, just to see what all the fuss was about, but apparently it wasn't to be. It wasn't surprising, not really-- after all, who would really want to visit him? Oh, well. It wasn't that important, and he'd managed to get something accomplished, even if it was only something small. As usual.

Maybe he couldn't find a way out of here. Maybe he couldn't do anything really helpful to anyone. But at least he could help the medics find supplies, and hopefully find someone to help tonight. Someone who would actually let him help them, too. That was probably a vain hope, but it still lingered.

The healer offered a vague sort of smile at his nurse as she wished him a good evening, then dropped into his chair to examine tonight's dinner. He wasn't really all that hungry; he'd had a decent lunch (or "brunch" as they had called it, whatever that meant) and hadn't been doing a whole lot lately. Still, though, he should eat, so he picked up the fork and started picking at the strips of fried potato without a lot of appetite.

[lighthearted]

Getting to check up with Ritsuka had been nice, and getting to talk to someone else who'd had to see a good friend had made Sora feel a little better, in a way. It had let him know he wasn't the only one going through it, while also giving him hope that they would all snap their friends out of it someday. It might take time -- Sora had admitted that to himself -- but they would do it.

On top of that, he had a plan for the coming night, which made him feel more secure. Even if the plan wasn't a very solid one yet, they would work it out. So long as the night didn't end too soon this time (he was crossing his fingers), maybe they would be able to make some progress.

After the regular trip back to his room, Sora stepped inside, nodded goodbye to his nurse, and then quickly waved at his roommate, who was already picking at his dinner. "Hey!" he greeted, managing to work up a smile for Hanatarou. "How was your day? Did you get to watch the movie?" Sora hadn't in the end, but maybe his roommate would be able to tell him about it.

With no further ado, he headed for his desk and fell into the chair, grabbing a fry and running it through the provided ketchup before dropping it into his mouth.

M12

[rocksthecourt]

Klavier must have been left in more of a daze than he had realized. He hadn't really registered much of the walk back to the rooms until the woman opened the door for him. He didn't walk in at first, only staring into the room ominously until the nurse got him to walk through the door.

Kristoph was alive. They still had him here somewhere. How long they would keep him was impossible to say, but for now they were holding him. Compared to what could have happened to him, maybe Klavier should have felt more relieved at this revelation, but he could only feel sick to his stomach. And that whole charade with Kristoph just now... what had happened to Fräulein Skye, what was happening to everyone every single day here....

He simply sat himself down in front of his dinner, replaying the day's events over in his head even as he tried to push it from his mind. What was it these people wanted from them? From him? Actually, what did it matter? Klavier's time was limited. He needed to take this place down from the inside out as soon as possible. If he wasted any more time here... it wasn't Klavier who would wind up suffering the consequences.

Re: M12

[oftemptation.livejournal.com]

Endrance was already inside the room by the time Klavier arrived, not even hearing him come in at first. He was thinking over the events of the night before.

Will we see a glimpse of home again tonight?

Endrance's thoughts were focused on that slim chance. If they got to go home a second time, would they stay there? Would the 'log out' feature work? Would they...actually be free?

And if that happened, what then? Would he...lose contact with the one he held most dear? No. No, they would --

He looked up just then, finally noticing that his roommate had arrived. Endrance shook his head a little, trying to snap out of those thoughts - out of thinking of home too much - and after a moment, spoke.

"...are you all right? You look troubled."

F10

[ai-no-minako.livejournal.com]

Okay, she'd figured it out. They weren't drugging the food. They were trying to fatten up the patient population. Maybe they thought fat people were happy people. Or maybe this was secretly a farm for a race of cannibals who liked the exotic tastes of people from different dimensions.

...or not. That was kind of ridiculous.

Still, though, there was an awful lot of food, and a lot of it was pretty fattenting. Minako eyed the slice of cheesecake with lips pursed, then sighed and pushed it away from herself. Cannibals or no, she couldn't go around putting on weight and slowing herself down. Especially not if there really were monsters outside at night.

Wait, were they here to fatten up the monsters?

.....ewwwwww.

Re: F10

[kagurazuki.livejournal.com]

Kagura walked into the room, fingers still a bit sore and with a few new bandages where she'd poked herself too many times with the sewing needle, but in her arms was an afternoon of hard work. Several small cakes and desserts (http://i59.photobucket.com/albums/g311/mikasaigo/treats_kagura.jpg)constructed from nothing but the felt and thread and a few miscellaneous beads and ribbons in the arts and crafts room. Not much, but hopefully they'd be good enough for Badou's friend. She couldn't do a lot, but she could try her best at the things she could do.

Luckily, her newest roommate hadn't fallen victim to the curse of disappearing shortly after their first meeting. Kagura greeted her with a soft smile before setting the objects on her bed and seating herself in front of her dinner tray. It seemed fairly heavy, especially for the two small Japanese girls, but for now she just busied herself with cutting the meat into smaller pieces. At least the cake looked delicious, why Minako seemed so set on avoiding hers was a little confusing, but maybe she just didn't like cake all that much.

"Ah- I'm glad to see you're well Minako-chan," she said quietly.

M1

[fuzzy-diablo.livejournal.com]

Kurt had spent much of the day in a daze after his trip to the chapel. Food hadn't much interested him, and no one had come to visit him again--which, considering what he heard about visitor days, seemed to be pretty okay. He didn't want to face Professor Xavier and be told he wasn't a mutant. Not when Professor Xavier had been the most understanding person since Kurt had left Germany for Bayville.

Here though, he had friends who understood and supported him. At least... he had them. Matt, Steve, Tony, Kon, Terry, Kitty... they all had disappeared without Kurt being able to do anything. And now? He had to explain to a third person that he wasn't going to maul them.

He sat in the corner of his bed, back against the walls, knees drawn up to his nose. His dinner lay on his desk, untouched. Sharing a room with Kon and Terry had been easy, and he'd liked it. Why did he have to share it with someone else now?

M42

[scarefaux]

No less than a second after the nurse had closed the door behind him, the Scarecrow set his tray on his desk and headed for his pillow, holding it by the corners at length and giving it a vigorous shake. The movie fell from its hiding spot in the pillowcase and landed picture-up on the bed, no sign it had been stolen or tampered with in any way. He sighed, relieved it was still there, no matter how much it bothered him.

He took the box and turned it over in his hands, having a seat on the side of the bed. So if Meche and Sangamon were right, the box somehow had a moving picture record that would show Dorothy's journey to see the Wizard, her friends in tow. The image on the front and the title promised that much. The strawman turned the box to the 'Megahit Movies' side; the picture made him homesick in the worst way.

Still, here was the proof he needed to show that Oz existed. If he could get it to Dorothy somehow, maybe she'd break free of her bewitchment and believe him. She'd not returned to visit him during the visitor shifts. Perhaps she'd forgotten him entirely. He shook his head- no, she'd never do that! Enchanted or not, she'd known who he was... in a way. That was better than nothing at all.

M44

[gamingsostfu.livejournal.com]

The day had been one filled with ups and down, of that Matt was certain; his trip up shit creek with a severe lack of paddle hadn't been very fun, to say the least - especially not with the sedation included in the package. He was mostly annoyed with himself, though, for being such a uselessly stubborn prat about the escape. He was well aware that he should've sat back, biding his time and watching others scramble about before slipping through the cracks at the first opening he saw. Now he'd made a name for himself as a troublemaker with the staff, so they were sure to keep a closer eye on him from now on.

As the nurse led him down the block, toward the room he probably still shared with Claude, (That was a maybe; they'd dragged the poor bloke off the night before, to do God knew what to him, and Matt hadn't seen him at all that day. More than likely, they'd screwed around with his brain and sent him on his artificially merry way.) he couldn't seem to stop reflecting on the goings-on he'd suffered that day. Niikura, he had to admit, had been usefully informative - especially where his experience with Mello was concerned. The knowledge that Mello himself had been sedated would prove a useful weapon when confronted by the blond - which was pretty high on the probability scale. If he'd been more into the percentages, like others he knew of that had once inhabited Wammy's, Matt would have said there was a ninety to ninety-five percent chance of another conflict occurring once the doors unlocked for the night. Due to the fact that he was still groggier than he'd ever been before in his life, Matt knew the odds of him getting his scrawny ass handed to him went way up.

The door opened, and it was the same room he'd been in the night before and that morning; he was sure of it. Drugs or no drugs in his system, he was still pretty decent with directions. Blue eyes narrowed, he glared passively down at the tray of food; again, it was a fairly substantial and healthy meal they'd laid out for him.

And, again, he grabbed the dessert and took it - and only it - with him to the bed. Sitting down and crossing his legs, he took a decent-sized bite, though he definitely wasn't hungry. As he chewed the cheesecake, Matt went over his conversation with Scott in the Sun Room. Despite the obvious lack of necessity the exchange had held, it had felt good to meet a fellow gamer - and Scott had definitely made Matt feel less like an awkward nerd. A fairly uncharacteristic smile crept onto his face as he took another bite of the sweet dessert; he felt mellow, which was pretty usual for him, but there was an edge to his calm that wasn't normal, he knew. He felt... good. Which wasn't good, to feel that way in a place like Landel's, where they drugged you and poked around in your brain for no reason at all.

Watching the door closely, he let the smile fade, hoping that whoever walked through that door would be able to cure him of the good mood he was starting to experience before it was too late.

Re: M44

[full-score.livejournal.com]

As the nurse led him away from the music room, Claude was both relieved to be away from most of the other patients, and a little depressed that nightshift was starting soon. What was he going to do with himself once the doors unlocked? There was no way he could ask anyone to take him along like this, much less go out alone. Not only that, but, because he'd been unable to see, making plans with friends over the board had been pretty much impossible.

As if sensing his mood, the nurse tried to cheer him up. "We'll be serving steak tonight." He could hear the smile in her voice. "That's your favorite, isn't it?"

Normally that alone would be enough to put him into slightly better spirits, but the thought of eating anything only made his stomach give a nauseating turn. Claude swallowed hard and didn't respond, trying instead to focus on not thinking about food. Unfortunately, that was difficult to keep up once the door opened and the nurse set him down in front of his tray. There was a slight clattering as she picked up his eating utensils and began cutting his steak for him. Hand curling into a fist in his lap, Claude bowed his head in silence. He knew she was just trying to do him a favor, but he couldn't find it in him to be grateful at that moment.

"Thomas here has been having a difficult time," the nurse spoke up, presumably to the roommate Claude couldn't see. "If you could help him if he needs anything, I'm sure he'd be very appreciative."

Once she'd finished making Claude's dinner easier to eat, she said goodnight to them both and shut the door behind her. The lock clicked in place. Claude knew he ought to at least say something to Mason, but instead he turned away from his meal, debating on whether he should go rest on the bed for awhile.

M19

[notthistrain.livejournal.com]

Cloud felt as if he hadn't gotten all that much accomplished that day. Granted, it being the daytime in Landel's meant that there was only so much one could do to begin with, but even then he thought he should have gotten around to meeting with more people - making better plans for the evening. He'd only spoken a little with Zack on the board, and the subject was something worth quite a bit more discussion. Though to be fair, the board really wasn't the best place for that.

He was a bit disgruntled as he took a seat at his desk and prodded at his meal. Steak and fries, huh? Pretty basic and plain, but he'd need his energy for the night, especially if they ended up covering a lot of ground while looking for Aerith.

Re: M19

[replicatedorder.livejournal.com]

The visit with Mieu still bothered Luke. He managed to shake it off long enough during his final shift to finally add his illegible scrawl to his journal, but he knew that it would be on his mind all night. The fact of the matter was that someone else was taken, and he couldn't rid himself from realizing that. Now, it was only time to try and sort out what it meant. Mieu had been in this world long enough to understand that he had left before, but that was still unclear. That didn't mean anything, anyway. There could have been an altering of his memories to make him think that, but Luke had no way of knowing.

It still bothered him how sincere Mieu was, but the fact was laid out before him: there were people at home who knew they were missing. That didn't change anything. They were there, and it meant that whatever elaborate scheme Landel cooked up was unavoidable in its existence. If anything, it only showed the length to which he was willing to go to mess with them.

But that still left a single question: Why? Was it all for the sake of science? Or was there more at stake?

His mind was rushing as he entered the room, body tense and his stumble somewhat uneasy. Luke took one look at the offered food and decided he didn't like it, but he knew he needed to eat it in preparation for the night ahead. When he looked at Cloud, however, he recalled their conversation on the bulletin and realized they had something to talk about. On top of that, Luke thought that Cloud might be a good sounding board for his other thoughts—or rather, the other points of discomfort that were nagging at him. There was no way this was any easier for him.

Somewhat filled with determination, he grabbed his tray of food and settled on his bed. He poked idly at the stake as he set his gaze firmly on his roommate. "Up for talking?" There was a chance that he wasn't, but Luke couldn't pass up the chance.

M55

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

"Cody! What you lack now isn't that reason to fight or whatever that you keep talking about... it's the memories that I have. Tell me when you have those too."

"But what memories are you talking about?!" Sechs' anguished conscious cried in the darkness, "Do you mean the ones from Mars, or Yoko's? What am I supposed to do if I can't tell if you're real or not?"

Those thoughts echoed throughout every level of Sechs' being as he spent the rest of the day in a drugged stupor. His time locked up in one of the small disciplinary cells dragged on in a timeless and static nightmare, barely able to move out of the sedative's control, he was forced to stare at the looming walls that crowded his prone being, trapped in a paralyzing haze of traumatized rage.

By the time Sechs was returned to his room for dinner, the worst of the sedatives had waned out, but he was left to himself by the nurse feeling terribly... hollow. Like most of his energy had been siphoned out... He couldn't believe what had just happened, but he couldn't stop thinking over it in an endless cycle.

Was that really Alita who visited him, or just a fake? After his drugged nap, Sechs couldn't help but hope that the whole event was just some bad dream, but the pain in his jaw (which came with a dark bruise no doubt) reminded him all too clearly of his visitation.

She looked and sounded just like his Original...! But she was in an organic body, went by a different name and came from a seemingly whole different background. She insisted that he was "Cody" and rejected everything he had experienced during his time in the institute. It was enough to stir doubt in his mind...

But Sechs knew who he was, knew everything he and many others had gone through were real. The cold scars decorating his spine, his intense memories of the explosive battles he dealt as a cyborg, the horrors he witnessed in the institute's halls, and watching his Original soaring through combat with grace and power... All of that was more than enough to convince him that it was all real. But it did little to ease his pain.

Drowning in his thoughts and festering emotions, the dejected Replica could not muster up the appetite to eat. The night was close to arrival, along with the hateful voice echoing from the poison in his body. Unable to contain his anguish any longer, Sechs knocked his dinner away with a single swipe. Pounding his fist down upon the desk, Sechs bowed his head and hid it within his arms, shaking.

Whether his visitor was a fake or the real Alita, Landel had touched the ultimate nerve. No one fucked with his Original! Sechs slammed his fist upon the desk again. Landel was not going to get away with this! Even if Sechs had to die trying!

Re: M55

[zip-it-good.livejournal.com]

"I'm afraid that you've been moved to a new room, Michelangelo." said the nurse as she walked briskly down the hallway to the patient residences.

"Eh?!" Bucciarati said in mock concern, "A new room? I don't think I can handle this much change!"

"Oh, stop it, Michelangelo!" the nurse chuckled, turning back to shake her head at him, "Always the kidder. Anyway, your new roommate's name is Cody. He's been having a rough day so far, so please do your best to treat him nicely, alright? I know that you're normally very polite, but try to be extra polite, okay?"

"You have my word," Bucciarati said, raising his right hand to his chest as he entered his new room.

Bucciarati sighed as he closed the door behind him. Finally he was rid of that chattering fool. Putting up with her constant talking was torture enough. If Landel really wanted to cause Bucciarati pain, he would just leave Bucciarati in a room with that...nurse. Now, on to business. Bucciarati wouldn't make the same mistake he did with Soubi.

"Hey." Bucciarati said nonchalantly, "I'm Michelangelo. I've heard that you're 'Cody,' but I doubt that's your real name."

F17

[chainsaw-royal.livejournal.com]

Well, tonight would have a lot to live up to if it intended on being as interesting or productive as last night. Hopefully Marc could provide on both accounts.

Taking a seat at her desk, Hime pulled out her radio and set it next to the tray before cutting into her steak. Of course, it wasn't going to be broadcasting anything of interest until after night fell, but she felt inclined to look at this, one of the tools they were given to start with but she'd so far ignored. Just what sort of riddled communications would they be receiving tonight?

Then there was also the two-way radios she and Depth Charge had received from the man. The Royal wasn't sure what to make of the robot's failure to respond to her notice last shift - it was possible he simply hadn't seen it thanks to their wardens - so he could be sure to receive a radio message from her tonight. She needed to know if she'd have company on her supply run or if it was time to start stalking the west hall for potential victims again.

F9

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

The intercom came as something of a relief—it meant something would happen, even if it was as routine as dinnertime. Mele had started to wonder if the movie was another method of brainwashing, and she'd been there for what seemed to be a very long while.

And another surprise; it'd been Lydia on the intercom! As her announcement ended, Mele had to wonder if Lydia was the type to defend Landel should the occasion arise. Probably not, which made it a shame that they couldn't get to him. Well, it wasn't like he didn't have other defenses up his sleeve.

As Mele sat down, the journal caught her eye. She stared at it a moment, a thought making its crawly way to the front of her mind, before she reached over and flipped it open. Removing the pen from her pocket, she wrote 'Sunday' on the page, and, below that, 'Brunch,' and 'Visitors.' After a moment, she put a question mark at the end of the latter. She could use this thing as a record, at least.

M36

[guardiancomplex.livejournal.com]

There were no words at how relieved Touya was when his nurse had told him that Nakuru hadn't been able to make it that week. Oh, what a shame.

He supposed he should feel bad about this. After all, whoever Nakuru had been turned into actually had feelings for Touya-as-Thomas, and that wasn't something to be made fun of. Though still, all of those comments about how Touya was stalking Yuki and how tightly she clung to Touya's arm... he honestly couldn't blame himself for being happy she hadn't come today. Maybe she was still upset.

Touya sat on his bed, contemplating his good fortune and picking at his food with intense concentration. Something was wrong with Yue, and he'd swear that he could feel it if he wasn't newly powerless. He'd have to figure it out--tonight, if possible. Tonight if Yue would tell him, more like it. He popped a french fry into his mouth to contemplate this.

M66

[wantsyourzex.livejournal.com]

The day had passed as a blur, another link in an all too long chain. He waited and waited for a response to his question on the board... and just as he'd thought, one hadn't come. There was a chance, perhaps, that his human simply hadn't seen his question, but with his luck, he couldn't afford to let himself believe it. False hope would do him no good here.

His Captain was dead, and whoever it was he had seen the night before... they probably would not be coming back, if they were even him to begin with.

ZEX picked at his food, disappointed in spite of himself that the impossible hadn't happened after all and brought his Captain back to him, and he sighed. Another attempt by this place to drive him mad, and while he wasn't about to give in... still, it was so tiring.

That, and DAX hadn't come to visit him this week either. He wasn't sure what he would have said to him if he HAD shown up... from his experience with Wilson, it was unlikely that DAX would have seen his missing eye or head wound, and wouldn't have believed his explanation for how he got them either.

Still, it would have been nice to see him. Another disappointment, and ZEX sighed. Nothing to do but keep going.

Re: M66

[doneinthree]

Kirk had just enough presence of mind to ask if he could stop by the Sun Room before the nurse guided him back to the four white walls that made his cell, and threw up a quick notice on the bulletin. No doubt someone would argue with him over the wisdom of his orders, but he didn't care, not now, not after today. Chekov still hadn't responded to his message (his mind kept replaying that moment in the labyrinth, seeing only one person beside him after stepping through, feeling the door slip from his fingers...), and he still didn't know what the hell Spock and McCoy had meant when they said they'd gone back to the Enterprise.

And Bones. Why Bones? Any visitor would've gotten to him, but someone had chosen his best friend with special purpose, just as they'd chosen an alternate universe Leonard McCoy to be their fellow prisoner instead of the original. The obvious answer (the answer to every goddamn baffling decision by their captors) was that they'd meant to throw him off-balance, another tweaked variable in their experiment, designed to push him to carelessness. Recklessness, like sending out his crew to fly solo tonight when they'd possibly just lost one of their own.

Probably that's how it looked. Probably Kirk was only kidding himself that he wasn't going unhinged, but the facts were that nothing so far as worked: not grouping, not dividing into teams, not adventurousness, not cautiousness, not anything. The next logical course of action here was for him to hold even more tightly to his crew — reassemble, reassess — but he was done with playing by the book.

So, as he wrote, they'd try something new. Illogical. Unpredictable.

Kirk's thoughts were still roiling as he marched past the nurse into his room, without so much as a goodnight or suggestive wink. It wasn't her fault that they were all trapped here (he remembered the older McCoy chastising him for "dehumanizing" the natives, which in turn made him imagine what Bones would say if he was in his right mind, and—) but he didn't know where the hell else to direct his anger. When the door clicked closed behind him, Kirk spun on the spot and threw a punch at it, wide and sloppy, like a drunk in a bar fight.

It wasn't pretty, but it did the job: the pain ricocheted all the way down his arm and he hissed quietly, dropping his forehead against the door as he let his mind clear. Only when he glanced back to the rest of the room did he remember that he wasn't alone. Kirk's shoulders tensed again as he realized that he might have shown too much, but in the end, decided it didn't matter. He and ZEX had shared a room for a week already. That had to count for something.

"Hey," said Kirk, remaining by the door, his voice full of affected casualness. "How was your day?"

M74

[heroesdontshave]

It was warm here. Or maybe peaceful was a better word. So nice. It was the kind of feeling you got when everything was right in the world. Like when you held the person you loved tight in your arms. Like seeing her smile light up her face as she looked up at you. Like...

He jerked suddenly, awake in an instant like something had come along startled him out of his sleep. He blinked once, confused, before just exhaling. Oh. Just dreaming again. Not like it was really something to complain about, but... Hey, wait. Since when had he gone to sleep? He didn't remember wandering off to find a bed to go lie down in either.

Snow sat up finally and looked around the room he was in, more than a little confused. What the? What the heck was this? Where was he? It didn't look anything like any room on the Lindblum. Actually, it almost looked like a hospital room or something, but it was full of all this weird, old-fashioned looking stuff. ...Was he still asleep? It didn't feel much like a dream.

But he couldn't have gotten caught either. First off, there was no way anyone could have snuck up and knocked him out without him noticing. That was just ridiculous. That and this place wasn't exactly oozing Sanctum atmosphere. If this place was Sanctum, there'd be two guys in here pointing guns in his face and barking out orders.

He finally stood up, glanced around the room, and eyed the door. Welp, no point standing around here wondering about it. If he wanted to find out where he was, he'd just have to go out and find out for himself.

Re: M74

[strayfag]

By the time dinner shift rolled around, Badou was aching for a smoke. More so than usual. And that was actually saying a lot, considering the number of days he'd been forced to weather on only good food, clean air, and the occasional tender maiming. Sure, that might be easy living most of the time, but a life without cigarettes was like a life without cancer love. A cold, empty, horrible shell of an existence.

He sort of wondered why the nurse was bringing a second dinner tray, but he guessed that she sensed the void deep within him and was trying to help him fill it with food. When he suggested as much, she just rolled her eyes. The sweet, modest --- son of a bitch what the hell was that in his room.

For a moment, he wondered if having some kind of withdrawal-inspired homoerotic daydream where the abominable snowman had turned out to be an unshaven Norwegilicious supermodel under it all, but that was (hopefully) a little far-fetched even by his standards. This guy was probably just his new roommate. At least he looked like he'd last more than a day or two. That was far longer than Badou's fragile sense of masculinity was going to survive.

"Hey, I guess we're roomies." He offered the hand that wasn't wrapped up in a sling while the nurse dropped off the trays and left. "I'm Badou. If you read anything on the bulletin that pissed you off, that was some other Badou. He's a dick." Please don't be a gay robot.

M47

[byname-bynature.livejournal.com]

Artemis had come back to the room, still reeling over 'Belinda's' visit, in an effort to collect himself. So far, it wasn't working.

What a life, being reduced to caring so much about grades and points and science fair projects. How mundane to sit in algebra class, plotting how to study more effectively for a test in order to get a higher grade than someone else. How absolutely ridiculous, channeling so much energy into something as pointless as high school.

But somehow, Belinda did it and Artemis was expected to do the same. As her rival and possibly something more. He shuddered. Artemis Fowl II and Opal Koboi were a match made by a drunken Justice of the Peace on a turbulent sail boat with a gun to his head, bringing people together via a very old phone book and some rather desperate and shaky pointing. Of course, it seemed as though Belinda felt otherwise...

...which made him wonder if the actual Opal Koboi had something she wanted to tell Artemis.

He convulsed on the bed and sat up, pacing agitatedly to his dinner, then back to the bed. The thought was too repulsive to let him stand still, but eating was also out of the question. If Opal was trying to drive Artemis to never eat again, it was working.

Re: M47

[faithful-frost.livejournal.com]

Haku stepped into the room and thanked his nurse quietly before turning to Artemis and lifting an eyebrow. He'd been lucky and was pleased that this was the first 'visitation' he'd actually left his room for. He set his tray of food down on the desk and watched Artemis for a few moments, waiting for him to calm down enough to speak.

F12

[per-ardua.livejournal.com]

When Raine was woken up from where she'd fallen asleep on a couch, she found herself almost scared of being told she had a visitor; it was a relief to be told that it was simply time for dinner. The day was over and it was time to prepare for nightfall, during which she could expect a guest that wasn't bleeding. Plus, the day had been a decent one at least; she might even have made a new friend.

It was also a relief to once again be able to look forward to dinner, to have someone to eat with that she actually liked. She really was learning to cope, even if in some ways she didn't want to be. It made things easier, but it also meant she had been here much, much too long.

Not wanting to dwell on that, Raine sat down at her desk and started in on her steak.

F7

[akarusa.livejournal.com]

The connection between twins was a special one, a bond that nothing and no one could break--not even death. A magic that not even this place could take away. Needing to do something for her brother, Hokuto spent most of the day in her room, meditating, to go as deeply into herself as she could. Not from shock and grief, but purposefully, to find their link and use it. She'd never been able to literally read his mind, but she could at least send him a message, if he thought to try to retrieve it.

Remember I love you...

Re: F7

[she-is-ruin.livejournal.com]

Yomi was content to go back to her cell for dinner, as the rules remained very simple: the faster she complied, the faster night and its possibilities came.

And it had been a long day, at that. Not because anything out of the ordinary had occurred--her family had not come to visit her. None of her conversations had moved her very deeply, either. But after a night as inexplicable as the one she’d had, a full day of monotony became extra tedious. If something were to happen, it was more likely to happen after hours. The daytime was more and more a hiatus between active periods.

When she got to F7, the girl Hokuto was there and again, looked more together. More so than a few days before. Hokuto had been bending under the strain earlier--Yomi had seen it. Had she come to terms now or was she closer to a break? For Yomi, who never wavered under the sesshouseki’s veil (or so it sometimes went) no matter how weak it’d been made here, the ups and downs between misery and determination the prisoners experienced were nothing more than quaint amusements for her. People cried, people grieved, people broke, people hoped… and she would continue to observe it all until she disappeared herself, or escaped. No different than watching the clouds through the Sun Room’s roof.

Stepping to the side of the door, Yomi gave Hokuto a glance. And yet, things were different, because Hokuto had been there, had been present, when the sensation of Kagura’s disappearance had cut straight through her. They hadn’t addressed it yesterday.

Yomi didn’t care when she saw Hokuto’s intimacies, but she cared when others saw hers.

She didn’t speak at first, instead letting the nurse’s talk fill the void.

M16

[stellarregions]

Gren honestly wasn't that interested in dinner. His arm hurt again--playing the piano in the music room had probably been a bad idea--and he didn't have the most robust of appetites even when he wasn't in acute pain. The nurse wasn't going to take no for an answer on that particular topic, so he ended up with a plate of food anyway, which he left on his desk and promptly ignored in favor of grabbing his journal and a pen and stretching out on his bed. They probably meant for him to use as some sort of diary, but while not perfect, it would serve well enough for him to jot down some musical scores. Nothing original, for the moment, but just doing it was enough to take his mind off things for a little while, at least.

[girlsandgadgets]

Edgar entered the room quietly, tray in one hand, journal resting in the sling around his arm, already planning for the night ahead. His redesigns were finished- it'd set him back a night or so, but he'd be waiting longer if he had to wait for his shoulder to fully heal. He couldn't risk damaging it further, especially when the stakes were high enough already.

He nodded to Gren as he entered, setting the tray on his desk. He sat into the seat heavily, adjusting his shoulder with a gritted teeth. "It looks like you made it through the day," he said as he angled the chair so he could keep an eye on his roommate during the conversation. "I trust you spent some of your free time in the music room?"