Day 51: Men's Showers [Second Shift]

[lawful_perfect]

Bah. So much for yet another suggestion of von Karma's. Such priorities this Institute had. They would implement a foolish suggestion to introduce origami lessons and to offer sewing supplies to select patients, yet refused to allow them to cleanse themselves more often than twice a week -- and, of course, without any additional privacy? How many more of his reasonable suggestions would the Head Lunatic make a point of ignoring?

von Karma scoffed, shaking his head as he entered the shower facility. Fortunately, it appeared that he was the first one in here. As soon as the announcement over the intercom had blared out signaling the shift change, von Karma had been quick to excuse himself from his conversation with Naraku to promptly head for the showers. It had been bad enough last time that there were already three men in the showers by the time he arrived. This time, he would make certain that he would be the first one there.

Without wasting a single second, he disrobed, meticulously washed off the grime from the past several days, dried himself, then got dressed. All within a perfect three minutes, zero seconds, before anyone else had a chance to enter. He would have preferred a much longer time to devote to hygiene, but he didn't want to risk any needless immodesty in front of anyone.

Now finished, he exited the restroom and entered the Sun Room.

[To here]

Comments

[arc-wrench.livejournal.com]

HK had been dreading this. The showers where his least favorite place in the entire facility. All those naked meatbags, utterly unashamed by their squishiness in public. There might be some who were ashamed, but he never looked that closely. Not when he was trying very, very hard not to look down.

What was doubly infuriating was the fact that his nurse seemed to look at the showers as a good thing. Yes, he could admit, meatbags had no non-stick surfaces and therefore that meant cleaning was required, and even without having accumulated dirt and no doubt billions of bacterial colonies, human meatbags seemed to think on some evolutionary level that this simply wasn't enough, so their outer surfaces dirtied themselves. Especially the hair. And under the arms. Urgh. He glowered at the nurse meatbag while she made sure he actually removed his clothes and didn't just spend the entire shower doing something less embarrassing like remaining clothed and facing a wall and trying not to think about all of the meatbags being naked.

But unfortunately, that was not to be so. He was now clothesless and inching his way towards the showers, untill the nurse literally pushed him into the bathing area, earning her one last glare and a "Statement: As the Mandalorians would say, Usen'ye bal kyr'amur gar ti gi, meatbag," before scuttling over to a shower in the corner, hoping to remain unmolested by the presence of meatbags.

[Free, no matter what he says. Molest away, guys.]

[tartaros-avatar.livejournal.com]

Recluse held a rather pointed dislike for the showers. The lights were bright and unrelenting thanks to the bright blue and white tile that lined every surface, and the absolute lack of privacy only made things slightly worse.

Nevertheless, arguing with the nurse over all of this would be slightly less productive than attempting to teach Captain Mako table manners. He therefore removed his clothes without complaint, finding a shower as far from the glare of the lights as he could manage, and started to occupy himself with getting clean.

[Free, if anyone wants an imposing slab of evil beefcake.]

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

DAMN that little BASTARD!

That Nataku was lucky Sechs hadn't landed anything too damaging on him! Sechs himself was fortunate that the nurses didn't use him as a pin cushion for all their damned sedatives either! That morning seemed to have been full of both the good and bad aspects of luck. He could have made an ally, but because of their seemingly different experiences with the same person, Sechs got himself a new enemy instead. Great, one more bastard to carry on Sechs' hated rival's legacy! Again Sechs couldn't help but mentally bemoan over Will's discharge... He still wanted to kill Will himself, but nooo! Will had to go and disappear without a trace! LOUSY, NO-GOOD...

Sechs had been too busy fuming over the little scuffle over breakfast that he was practically on auto-pilot by the time he was lead to the showers. He took his frustration out on the nurse by throwing his clothes into a puddle of water again and angrily stomped through more little soapy ponds on the tiled floor until he found the nearest vacant shower head.

He was still too flustered and bothered to take notice of the large figure beside him as he brusquely turned the knobs with a grumble. As soon as he got the hot water going, the disgruntled Replica turned to face his scarred back against the shower. His eyes still glazed over with fresh rage as he brooded to himself.

[loyal-soldier.livejournal.com]

Thank the Emperor. Shower shifts couldn't come often enough here. He didn't even mind that it was communal, that was nothing new. the only slight hangup was that the others there were almost all civilians, a group he still never quite trusted. A few weeks here had left him less jumpy about them, but it still nagged at him.

Well, no point in not making the best of it. He stripped down, taking the closest unoccupied shower, feeling unaccountably pleased when he managed to get the water to not come out freezing cold or scalding on the first try as he fiddled with the generally tetchy controls, then started to wash himself down without any further delay, enjoying the warm, clean water.

[Russia!]

[vodka-jump.livejournal.com]

His talk with England had been amusing, but when the nurse led him away before he'd even finished his meal, he was at a bit of a loss. He was used to be ordered around by only one person, his boss, whomever that might be at the time, but here it was as if all the nurses and orderlies thought they could make him do whatever they wanted!

As for leading him into the tiled room and making him undress, it was just insane! It was fine not to have a banya, but there wasn't so much as a bath. Just the spraying faucets. Bathing ought to be a much more enjoyable ritual, not just being hosed down while sprayed with water.

It wasn't even so much that he had a problem being nude. France did that often enough and he didn't even have much to bother about covering up.

There were several men already so he strode into the showers, hardly bothered as he found an empty spot next to a familiar face. TK had already gotten his faucet to spray properly, but Russia hadn't used them much himself. He glanced over at the knobs, fiddling around and trying to get them figured out.

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

Kibitoshin had, he decided, just about gotten the hang of these shower shifts. So long as he was quick, kept to himself and didn't look anyone in the eye (especially not anyone taller, scarier or more stern looking then he could ever be), he could get out without being roped into any awkward conversations. Admittedly he nearly tripped and hit his head on the sink in his haste to undress, and he might possibly have gotten soap in his eyes while he washed, but it was all for a good cause! Anything was better than being trapped in a corner feeling more and more awkward every second, right?

Rinsing out his hair (no mean feat, given how much of it there was- how in the galaxy had he ended up with so much of it, given how little he and Kibito had had between the two of them before they'd fused?), he hurried to dry himself off and struggle back into uniform, spraying his nurse with water as he swung his hair over his shoulder to dress. Oops. W-well, at least she wasn't going to punish him at all, and he could deal with cold, irritated silence. Kind of.

[not-rly-fai.livejournal.com]

Breakfast had gone more or less as expected with few possible exceptions. The bulletin in the Sun Room yielded little and as tempting as it was to ask outright about Marc, it would be relatively suspicious, wouldn't it? At the very least, it was something to think about.

He followed his nurse to showers, glad to find the place still fairly empty. It took a bit of fiddling to turn on the spray and adjust it to a good temperature before stepping into it. At least this week there were no open wounds, just a lot of scar tissue beginning to form. Not wearing the medical eyepatch for a while actually felt pretty good, and he scrubbed at the places it'd sat around his scalp, much like a cat without a collar.

There was the town or the areas surrounding it that they hadn't checked yet. The rebels wouldn't be hiding out in the same place they were trying to overthrow, would they? Maybe he should look into getting some maps of the areas near the institute.

[Yuki!]

[winged_moon]

That definitely had been Sakura he'd seen at breakfast, since she'd answered the post Yukito had left on the bulletin -- but how had she managed to sleep through an entire day without realizing it? She was still here and awake and apparently unharmed, but the previous warnings he'd read about how people who were about to disappear started to sleep a lot was enough to keep Yukito (and Yue, though he was still quiet today and wouldn't admit to it anyway) very concerned. Hopefully she wasn't about to leave here again; Yukito wouldn't mind if she returned home and safe, but after she'd been here as a visitor he suspected that the Institute would simply return her to that false life.

His thoughts and worries were enough to keep him occupied, leaving him moving automatically toward the showers as instructed. The routine here was starting to become a little disturbingly familiar, but -- well, he did welcome the chance to wash, since it didn't happen nearly as often as he was accustomed to. He remained distracted after he'd disrobed and entered the shower area, absently moving toward an empty spot before realizing that he recognized the blond man a short distance away.

"Oh! Fai-san, good morning," Yukito said, moving to join him. "It's been a couple of days -- how are you feeling?" So much had happened between them that Yue wasn't quite certain what to think of the magician anymore, but Yukito was still concerned nonetheless. At least he didn't look like he'd run into any recent trouble....

[anemptydecapo]

Although the discussion with Sora did lend a few ideas as to what reasons their being here was, it also neglected to offer any insight onto what steps to take next. They couldn't settle for just that. He refused. It was unraveling the motive, but not stopping the crime - and that was unacceptable.

Nurse had already departed once reaching the bathroom doors, having succeeded in gabbing his ears off the entire way there with talk of having to eat more and to be careful with his wounds (he could have reprimanded her for treating him like a child. He decided he didn't care). Once the inside, the assassin removed his clothing, the sting in his shoulders and burn in his side protesting the movement. Cautiously, his fingers pressed against the bandages on his waist after the shirt was removed, testing the gashes underneath.

They were deep, more so than he'd assumed the night before, but only inconvenient. Truth be told, it was probably a miracle he had the strength continue running to Doyleton with the resulting blood loss.

Hmph.

The shower was quick, rushed more than usual after a burst of dizziness hit and took him by surprise. He just felt so sick, suddenly... Was it the loss of blood? Having not eaten anything? The heat? ...Whatever the case, he made it quick, drying off and redressing despite the wave of nausea threatening to pull him off his feet. This was ridiculous...

[fleeing to the sun room]

[threepwood]

Guybrush was running out of options. Telling the nurse he wasn't dirty hadn't worked. Trying to convince her he was allergic to water had resulted in a snicker. His last-ditch effort of pretending he had a very specific phobia of standing in a room full of naked men in an asylum and getting shampoo in his eyes garnered an eye roll. She left him alone at the entrance to the bathroom, instructing him to go past the stalls, undress, then take a right and head for the showers. It wasn't so much the shower or the water or the room full of naked men that left him terrified- it was the walk to the showers. The stalls kept the toilets caged, but the urinals were right there, just waiting for him to pass.

He swallowed harshly, a knot forming in his throat. "Okay, just... don't look at them," he told himself, as though bravery were accumulated through avoidance. He took one step, then another, then a third. "Eaaaasy does it. They're over there, and I'm over here, and we just happen to be- "

Eyes locked on the ceiling, he could have sworn on his remaining hand that he'd seen something from the corner of his eye. Okay, that urinal on the wall definitely moved. It had to have been a centimeter closer than it was before. Did the wall move, then? Were the urinals all in cahoots to get him? Yeah, that sounded perfectly reasonable. Those evil, porcelain devils were just waiting to catch him unawares, creeping toward him at a snail's pace when they thought he couldn't see them. They were crafty for plumbing fixtures.

Guybrush took a deep breath. Six steps, seven, almost there. If he could just keep staring at the ceiling until he got into the showers...

"Wait, what am I saying?" he asked himself aloud. "I'm Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate™ and kidnappee! I'm already being hounded by my arch nemesis and a psycho Frenchman with no better hobbies- I'm not going to let some inanimate fixture get to me, too." He waited for about three seconds, mustering up his courage before spinning to face the closest urinal, ready to show it he was made of tougher stuff than porcelain.

As it turned out, Guybrush Threepwood, Mighty Pirate™, was not made of tougher stuff than porcelain. The urinal was as close as ever, but now fully in focus and threatening to the max. Guybrush stumbled backward instinctively, trying to put distance between himself and the urinal, only to find himself falling through a door into one of the stalls and straight onto a toilet. He was pretty sure he heard the toilet laughing maniacally, but he couldn't really tell over the sound of his own screaming as he tore from the stall, through the rest of the room, and into the showers.

A few minutes of near-death and panic attacks passed before Guybrush managed to strip off his clothes and wander into the shower area, trying not to think of how he was going to get back through the room once he was clean. In good news, the room was mostly empty so far. He wrapped a towel around his waist, found an unoccupied shower head near the middle of the wall, and started inspecting the shampoo bottles. If he was going to have to brave that bathroom again, at least he'd do it smelling fresh.

[Come to me, LeChuck~]

[voodooanonymous.livejournal.com]

LeChuck once again found himself sleeping unintentionally, and woke up halfway through breakfast. He was reinvigorated by plotting with Porky the night before, and what was left of the first shift was spent writing on and studying the bulletin board. He hadn't decided if he'd try to create an alias, but it couldn't hurt to try to help his public image, and honesty was the best policy. So, he made sure pour out his feelings onto a page, albeit somewhat censored and benign. In the end, he didn't get a meeting with Elaine, but did get a nice rise out of Guybrush, which was an amusing bonus.

It was getting annoying that he kept missing time to sleep, but he felt like a scheme was already brewing and he could be patient once things were moving. All he had to do for now was pretend to work with Guybrush and his extra wench, he didn't even have to pretend to like it! So, when he was led to the showers, he was in a fairly good mood. He undressed, tossed a towel over his shoulder and strode in - and who should he see, but Threepwood staring at some bottles of shampoo. When it came down to it, why not look on the bright side of things? He may be trapped in this bizarro hospital, but his enemy and his love were both trapped with him (though he'd rather find Elaine in the showers than Guybrush, if it was all the same to them).

He approached the scrawny pirate with a broad grin and no sign of shame. After all, whatever his form, he was a handsome bastard. "I say, Guybrush. Was the vandalism really necessary?"

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

Spock had not made as much progress as he had initially anticipated. Although observing the apparent change in common language among the patient population had been quite fascinating, he had not entered the second floor. No doubt he would need to report this incident to the captain. Furthermore, he would need to take care in budgeting his time more carefully in the future. Of course, that could prove rather difficult, considering the somewhat inconsistent flow of time within the institute itself. Spock would simply have to avoid unplanned encounters with other patients unless the circumstances were somehow imperative.

It was, however, interesting to learn of Sutcliffe's apparent connection with his roommate. Perhaps speaking with him at the next opportunity would prove to be a wise endeavor. After the repeated warnings from Peter, Spock knew it would be illogical to deliberately ignore leads that could potentially shed more light on the situation. On the other hand, the Vulcan was also well aware of his first and foremost priority: further clues regarding how to escape the institute and return himself and the rest of the crew to their proper place and time. He could not allow anything to overshadow that mission.

His breakfast, in the meantime, had been relatively quiet, and it appeared his shower shift would be similar. As Spock quickly and thoroughly washed himself, he was left to ponder the potential meaning of Martin Landel's explanation regarding the rings. Spock himself had not found one, which meant Dr. McCoy likely possessed such an item. Landel's instructions concerning how to use it as some sort of teleportation device were certainly intriguing, though Spock knew he would need to see it demonstrated in person in order to truly believe it. There was, of course, the possibility that he was misleading them somehow. They would need to exert caution should they decide to test it.

Once he was satisfied with his shower, Spock promptly shut the water off and moved to towel himself dry. After receiving and changing into a fresh set of clothes, he made his way into the sun room.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/958006.html?thread=71706422#t71706422).))

[itneverwas.livejournal.com]

There were doubtlessly some of those retaining an existence that would've been dreading the public showers, but Xemnas didn't possess both the figurative and literal heart to care for such petty things. After the announcement signaling the end of breakfast had finished, he bid his farewell to the young detective before the nurse led him to the showering area.

The Nobody disrobed quickly before stepping into an unoccupied shower stall, washing quickly and thoroughly while pondering the situation. Though he still possessed little knowledge of the situation, tonight wouldn't allow him to acquire more answers. No, collecting the necessary materials for his ordered 'toys' currently held a much higher priority.

Little time had passed before Xemnas shut off the water and dried off. After redressing, he entered the sun room.

[itneverwas.livejournal.com]

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/958006.html?thread=71701814#t71701814)]

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

Last night had ended suddenly. They didn't get very far at all, and despite that, Jim had still managed to get himself into trouble. Heavy lacerations down his torso and arm and and a shirt ruined beyond repair, it was starting to look just like old times. That giant cat wasn't his doing, and neither was Heat, yet both had been plenty of trouble, and both had been attracted to the captain like flies to honey.

His counterpart was going to have his work cut out for him.

McCoy stepped into the showers. He didn't see any sign of the captain just yet, much less Spock or the ensign. The bulletin board might come up with something, but that required getting through this quickly. The doctor set about to washing briskly, ducking his head under the shower head.

[war-wounds.livejournal.com]

Getting through the day as a human took up a disproportionate amount of Ratchet's energy. He'd barely made it through the first fueling period and already he felt worn out. This primitive washrack wasn't any help, either. The feeling of pressurized water on human hide was uncomfortable and weird, and he didn't like seeing so much of the fleshbag he was trapped in at once.

Still, there was nothing for it but to cooperate and hope the night was more productive. Grumbling to himself, he adjusted the water temperature (and why was there such a narrow setting between too warm and too cold?) and started working detergent into his hide. "Stupid, slagging high-maintenance organics..."

[gargantuanlaugh.livejournal.com]

Showers. Communal showers. Goodness, the last time Gant had been forced to shower in front of others had been back when he'd been on the swimming team in high school. That was over forty years ago, and the chief wasn't sure how he felt about stripping down in from of all the other men.

... Well, it couldn't be that much different than wearing only your swimming trunks when at a public beach. In fact, it would be exactly the same. Only without the swimming trunks. And the balmy atmosphere. Problem was everyone would see his tan lines. He'd just have to think of it as a necessary evil. After all, his hair was starting to look a bit weighted down from the past two nights' perspiration.

He stripped down and moseyed over to a free shower head. He whistled a peppy little tune as he washed, paying close attention to his hair. He wondered briefly if they would provide him with any kind of haircare products to help get his bangs back in order, but something told him not to hold his breath.

[dualistic]

Speaking with that Hammer idiot had more or less been a waste of time, and now he was being forced into the showers. It was bad enough when he already had bandages covering half of his face, but now he also had them wrapped around his side thanks to Little Miss Frilly from last night. Harvey tried to reason with a nurse about it, but in the end all she did was offer to "help" him get clean, which was the last thing he needed.

In the end, he pushed past her into the changing room and quickly stripped, which ended up being a bad idea because it pulled at the wound. He grumbled to himself out of frustration and then snatched a towel off of a shelf, wrapping it around himself as he walked into the steamy room. He had to admit that it felt good on his skin, but what he didn't want was someone coming to bother him about his wounds. It seemed like people would be ten times more likely to ask in the showers because the whole lack of clothing thing seemed to emphasize it.

For that reason, he tried to make quick work of his shower, squirting the body soap out of the containers on the wall and then running it over his body while making sure to avoid both sets of bandages. He knew this couldn't be sanitary or good for his injuries, but he clearly wasn't getting out of it. Luckily, he'd gotten enough practice doing this by now that he wasn't getting soap into his wounds much anymore.

[tender-cruelty.livejournal.com]

He couldn't help but be glad that it was time for a shower and he rather wished that they got them more often. A couple of times a week wasn't anywhere near enough for normal activity levels, let alone having them run around during the night to fight and bleed. He stripped off quickly when he was led into the room, eager to get beneath the water. Maybe he'd see Badou.

Well, not see Badou, but meet up with him, talk, mention that he had one of those rings and as far as he knew, Artemis was in one piece after last night. He didn't want Badou to think that he was shirking his duty as a member of the family.

It sounded kind of nice when he put it like that and it made him smile a little at the thought.

He stepped beneath the spray, letting it slick his hair down against his skull and he reached for some of the shampoo in the dispenser against the wall.

[Free!]

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

So there was either the third floor or the basement to consider. Zack figured that the basement was more reasonable at this point, since he actually knew how to get there and he knew someone who had experience going down there, but the third floor also sounded promising. It was just a matter of figuring out how to get up there. There had to be some way; he refused to believe that there wasn't.

But for the moment, what he needed to do was get himself a shower. Considering how he'd gotten rained on the other day, getting the chance to wash off sounded pretty good. While Zack was sure that some patients were annoyed by how infrequently they got to shower, he didn't mind so much. As a soldier, there had been instances where he'd had to wait days before he could get himself a decent shower.

When given the option, though, he definitely wasn't going to pass up on the opportunity. He couldn't understand why anyone would argue with the nurses about going to take a shower, but he figured that some people were just really shy about that sort of thing. Zack had always been in good shape, so he'd never been anxious about his own body, and the army had quickly taught him to get over seeing other people naked.

With all that taken into consideration, the soldier had no problem waltzing into the shower room in his birthday suit. He found an empty shower head and turned it on, humming to himself as he waited for it to warm up.

[longlivetheking]

[Mind a disgruntled lion? :D]

Even after the several weeks he had already spend here, Scar didn't yet understand the human concept of personal hygiene. How could standing under a spray of water and rubbing some sort of goo all over yourself get yourself clean? Unfortunately for the lion who just so happened to dislike getting wet, he once again failed in coming up with an excuse that would help him avoid the silly activity. So after receiving the warning from his nurse to be careful with the wound on his head (he wouldn't have known what to do without that reminder), he was pushed into the damp area and had little choice but to begin with this ridiculous human cleaning ritual.

Oh, goody. He grumbled to himself as he dragged himself to the nearest shower-head, only to send his best glare towards it after he had arrived.

He supposed he should get this over with...

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Origami paper and how-to materials? Ever since Okita had first shown Claude how to make a paper crane, he had to admit that sounded pretty interesting. Normally he might have given that some thought for when he visited the arts and crafts room, but as it was he didn't really have much of a reason to look forward to it. There was no way he could do something like that as long as he couldn't see.

He just had to tell himself he might get better soon. True, part of Claude knew that it wasn't a good idea to hold his breath, that he wouldn't know for sure until he opened his eyes and could actually see. But he couldn't let himself give into despair, either, which meant he had to strike a careful balance with himself for now. That was easier said than done, especially considering the state he was in, but he thought it was something he could maintain for at least a little while longer.

Either way, the conversation he'd had during breakfast had put him in more hopeful spirits for the time being. What luck, running into Guy's friend Natalia like that! Well, really, he had the nurse to thank, but it was hard to admit he owed the staff anything these days...

For now, though, he had to focus on getting himself showered. Though he probably could have tried skipping out on it, showers were so few and far between that Claude didn't want to risk smelling bad or something. When it was impossible to see, however, that made even simple tasks a little more time-consuming. Thankfully, undressing wasn't so hard, and by straining his ears he was able to find an area of the shower that didn't sound like it had much activity going on yet.

This was the first time the tattoo on his shoulder was fully exposed now, he realized as he fumbled around to turn on the shower head. It would have been nice to know who was close by so he could try to keep it as discreet as possible. For now, Claude figured he'd have to try to make his time in the showers as brief as possible. But that was probably for the best, regardless. Tattoo aside, it was hard not to feel a little uncomfortable in here today.

He sighed to himself once he felt the water drenching his hair. After feeling around for a few moments, he located the shampoo pump and began lathering himself up.

[For Guy!]

[nobleman]

Speaking with Edgar always left Guy a bit exhilarated, and today was no exception. While he had no idea of whether or not he'd get to see the man's invention when it was finally complete, he could at least work up some excitement over the mental picture he'd been able to form after seeing the man's sketches. Guy knew there were far more important things that he needed to be doing with his time, but he didn't think it was the end of the world if he spared a shift every few days to catch up with his fellow machine lover.

Normally he would have been upset at being separated from the other man so soon, but as things were, a shower didn't sound half bad. While he'd spent days out in the wilderness and unable to wash for long periods of time, he was always happiest when he could get clean once a day. Landel's wasn't quite that generous, but he would take what he could get.

And so the servant undressed and stepped into the shower room without complaint, taking in a breath of the steam and then exhaling with a pleasant sigh. Guy didn't usually make it a habit to search out people he knew while bathing, but seeing how there was one person in particular who he really needed to clear things up with, it was no surprise that he ended up taking note of Claude, who was off in the corner minding his own business at the moment.

Showering wasn't necessarily one of those things that would be hard to do blind, but Guy didn't head over to his friend with the intention of helping. More than anything, what he would like to do was hear that voice speaking a language that he could understand again, and so he carefully headed over, knowing that his friend might not be able to hear him approaching with the sound of pounding water drowning everything else out.

"Claude?" he called out once he was about ten feet away, just in order to give fair warning. Though as he neared the other man, he couldn't help noticing a marking on the side of Claude's arm. Guy knew for certain that Claude hadn't had that before, which meant... a remnant from the experiment? But why?

Now wasn't really the time to ask, though, and so he forced his curiosity down. He needed to be supportive, not pushy, and he'd handled enough situations like this to know the difference.

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

A shower? Wonderful. He needed one. He was rather disgusted that they weren't allowed to bathe every day. Most hospitals were rabid about hygiene after all. Why should this one be any different if it wasn't to keep up appearances? It was amazing how times changed though. Once the thought of bathing so often would have been vaguely horrifying. It made him smile vaguely, until the realisation that he would have to shower in the same room as Russia and Prussia and Germany when he was injured.

Lovely, several of the last countries in the world that he would ever want to be around when he was at a disadvantage.

Not that he was going to hide. Not at all. He had more pride than that. He stripped off, huffing as the nurse insisted on helping him get the t-shirt off over his injured shoulder. He found a free spigot, as far away from Russia and other people as he could, and ducked beneath the shower head, letting the hot water soak over his body.

[Free]

[spandexorgtfo.livejournal.com]

[hope you don't mind!]

Thank the gods for showers and gender discrimination. Kratos had the feeling that if they'd had the opportunity, Raine and Rita would have followed him around until dinner spewing out questions and expecting him to answer. But, now he'd successfully escaped in a way that was according to routine and that didn't involve violence and forks.

The nurse was kind enough to help him get the brace off his arm and his shirt over his head, but he didn't escape into the shower room without a lecture on behaving and being patient - which he ignored. In his mind, he'd had legitimate reasons for threatening Rita, mostly the assurance of his continued existence.

Once in the showers, Kratos looked for a shower head as removed from everyone else as possible, but found that that particular one was already occupied. Simple enough. He took the second best space next to the other man. It was somewhat difficult managing the shower controls with one hand, but eventually he got the water to turn on, and Kratos stepped into the spray eagerly.

He looked across at the man next to him. "I apologize if you weren't looking for company." Although, did this really count as company?

[stellarregions]

A shower had sounded like a good idea. After the fight with the cat and a night spent hiking all over some fairly rugged terrain, he was feeling distinctly grimy. Granted, he'd gotten very used to dealing with a lack of proper bathing in the army, but it wasn't a situation he favored, and quite frankly, he wanted to wash his hair. Hot water might leave him feeling a little less achy, as well. For some reason, it didn't occur to him to ask the nurses what sort of facilities the institute actually had until he was already inside and faced with a communal shower and not a single private stall.

Three years ago, it wouldn't have bothered him in the least. He wasn't an exhibitionist by any extent, but he wasn't particularly shy, either. Of course, three years ago, things had been significantly different. Things were decidedly more... complicated now. It wasn't even a lack of comfort with himself that was the issue--he'd had time to get used to his body as it was, as much as he wished things were different. But he most decidedly did not want to walk into a group of other men he did not know in the slightest, either. He debated walking back out and hoping the nurses didn't notice, but the thought grated on him. He deserved his shower as much as anyone else did, and he'd be damned if he'd let what the army had done to him get in the way of something as simple as getting clean. It was bad enough that he'd been hauled here so he could be run through someone's glorified psychology experiment. There was only so much even his forgiving nature would take.

So he compromised, and waited until there was a break in which no one was there, stripped, and headed into the shower, hoping he'd be able to slip through without anyone else coming in. And if they did, well, at least this way, he was there first.

[For Matt]

[gamingsostfu.livejournal.com]

Not cool, not cool, not cool, not cool-

That was all Matt could think as he slowly - agonizingly so - stripped. His shoulders hunched, the gangly brunet slowly made his way into the expansive shower. It was obviously one meant for public use, which was not sitting well with him at the moment, but there were worse things the brainwashed pricks could have been exposing him to.

Besides, it was more like they were exposing everyone else to Matt, wasn't it? He shuddered at the thought.

"Just get it over with," he mumbled to himself, grabbing a clean towel out of the basket near the entrance and heading into the main shower area. It seemed to be pretty empty - save for one familiar face.

...but the rest of him. Wasn't familiar. Or. It was. But.

...wait just a minute. He couldn't help himself; for a moment, the brunet just stood and stared, coughing lightly in a weak attempt to hide his surprise.

He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it at the last minute. Matt rarely said the right thing in situations that weren't half as complicated as this one was already turning out to be, and he was dead sure that any words leaving his mouth would just make things worse.

Potentially much worse.

Instead, he silently took the stool next to Gren, scooting it a tiny bit further away from the other... person. "So... Hey. How's it hanging, mate?" When his own words reached his ears, however, Matt flushed an obnoxious shade of scarlet, and his shoulders hunched even more as he started to pray that the floor would open up underneath him and swallow him whole. This is why I never went out in public when I had a choice in the matter, he thought, using a good chunk of his willpower to fight down the urge to make some awkward apologetic motion, since he wasn't sure he could actually muster up the words. Instead, he kept his eyes decidedly on the stupid blue and white wall as he turned on the showerhead, hoping his heavily embarrassed flush could be attributed to the heat of the spray.

[swornandbroken.livejournal.com]

Ugh, showers. The prospect was slightly less horrible when he wasn't drugged, and didn't have a cast to contend with, but twice-weekly group showers was still almost as far from Mello's ideal as one could get and still involve running water. He hurried through it as quickly as he could, still thinking about the question of the rings, becoming increasingly frustrated that the ulterior motive he felt ought to have been obvious wasn't, not to him.

He was still irritated, too, over having not got anywhere useful last night, and about the continued lack of information out there about the so-called sleep studies. Not that Mello blamed people for being closed-mouthed about it; he'd rather not have told Sai, in retrospect, even given that his reasons for asking about the 'experiments' were perfectly obvious. As for Matt, well. He'd have to see if his friend's apparent intention to carry on as if nothing were wrong with Mello held up tonight.

Nothing is wrong with me, he corrected that thought, refusing to indulge in the luxury of standing under the hot spray feeling sorry for himself. Bugs playing with his synapses or not, it didn't change who he was.

He really wished he actually believed that.

[off to the Sun Room (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/958006.html)]

[kingside]

Lelouch had slept through breakfast. That was-- inconvenient, in a word, but not that much more than everything else the institute visited its patients with (sometimes literally), so he let it go just this once. There were certain things he would have liked to get done, yes, but since he was, at the very least, lucky enough to have not missed any scheduled meetings with that first shift, it wasn't nearly as catastrophic as it could have been.

He fell into step behind his nurse when she came to collect him, which wasn't like him, but with as many things as he had to consider, he didn't let that bother him, either. There was still the status clubs to check up on, not to mention try and find someone capable who could take over some of his projects (which seemed more and more unmanageable the further behind he fell, but hopefully it would be someone else's problem soon), find Suzaku and finish filling him in on details about the institute-- it was a shame the knight hadn't gotten to reading the journal last night, really. That would have helped considerably.

He broke away from his nurse once they reached the showers, abruptly switching gears to trying not to think terribly hard about anything at all as he stripped down, put away his clothes, found an empty spot, and-- etc., etc., etc. It was better than never getting the chance to bathe himself at all, but why couldn't they have partitions set up?

He sighed and shut his eyes. He'd just have to finish quickly, he supposed, before someone could try to speak to him.

[Annnd once he's done, off to here.]

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

Dah, crap. He hated the showers. He'd never had to do anything like this to keep clean before, especially when he'd been Impmon. The most he'd ever done then when he was dirty was jump around in the fountain in the park, scaring the grownup humans.

It was just that--"DAUGH!"--Whoever invented soap and made it really sting when it got in your eyes needed to get pounded flat.

The shower ended pretty quickly after that.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/958006.html)]

[should-be-dead.livejournal.com]

Several others were already present in the showering area, but Tenzen payed them little mind as he stepped into the dark room. Others may be embarrassed to be naked in public like this, but the ninja had long since stopped caring for such petty matters. He was a ninja of Iga, an immortal one. He simply had little to be embarrassed for.

He finally located an empty shower-head. The duration of his stay had been good for at least one thing; by now he was at least familiar enough with the contraption as to not have to make a fool out of himself.

[Free! No limit.]

[herr-inspektor.livejournal.com]

For what felt like the first time in a long while, Lunge found himself without any immediate meetings or questioning sessions to attend to, a day that could be dedicated to any loose ends he had been meaning to tie for a while. There was the matter of rescheduling his meeting with Javert, of course, but (unsurprisingly) he had managed to avoid attaching any real sense of urgency to it. After all, he was simply offering Javert his services as a witness (not a victim, Heinrich); he was sure the man had plenty of other people to interview in the mean time.

He was, he realised, quite badly in denial. But when he had an investigation of his own to consider, how could he possibly justify dwelling on his own misfortunate?

The answer? He couldn't. Lunge washed, dressed and left the showers with minimal fuss. A short list of things to do: chase up that "private meeting" the Head Doctor had referenced in the night (implication: patients had met someone vitally important). Find out exactly what was said on the radio. Have someone repeat the first part of the Head Doctor's message back to him. Small things, but even the smallest hint could end up vitally important. He had to hunt down every tiny detail without mercy or risk missing the vital, case-solving clue that had the potential to change everything. Unlikely, perhaps- but Inspector Lunge didn't take chances. Not anymore.

[contentincloset.livejournal.com]

They had a place to meet now, and unless Fai wanted not only Kurogane after him, he'd hold to their plans. Kurogane was not about to let him do his own thing and thankfully neither would Tsubaki. Between the two of them, they should be able to prevent the events of the previous night. Granted Fai didn't just decide to ditch them. He did have that strange ring after all.

The showers calmed him despite Fai having to be in there as well. Kurogane just put his head into the showerspray and attempted to ignore him. He did give a glance though as he finished, noting that he was speaking with Yue, before heading out. Why people had conversations in the showers he'd never know. You were just there to get clean and go.

[contentincloset.livejournal.com]

[guardiancomplex.livejournal.com]

Touya was glad for the opportunity to get clean, however he was not glad that the first thing he was greeted with upon entering the shower was Yuki talking to Fai. Not that he was jealous, just super protective of his boyfriend and anyone who might ogle him while he was in a compromising position.

He took up a showerhead that wasn't too far away from the both of them, intending to watch the pair very carefully. If Fai started looking somewhere that wasn't Yuki's face...

Crushing the shampoo bottle and earning a rather large amount of shampoo for his efforts, he began working it into his hair until the suds started running in steady rivers down his back and neck. Hey, Yuki had said he wasn't a creepy stalker, this probably wasn't creepy stalker behavior... since he'd already done this.

[Free! \o/]

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

Javert showered quickly, wasting little time. Good as it felt to rid himself of the dirt and grime of the past few days, he had an appointment, and it would do him no good to be late.

It occurred to him as he rinsed the last of the suds out of his hair that he ought to have inquired about Mlle. Skye's appearance. Still, the matter did not overly perturb him; it had occurred to him that she was probably the sister of Lana Skye, and there was a distinct possibility that the siblings would resemble one another. In all likelihood, finding her would be straightforward enough.

Regardless, there was no need to waste time here. Ducking under the spray one last time, Javert stepped out of the showers, dried off, and pulled on the familiar grey outfit. With luck, he'd find Ema Skye quickly.

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

[ryuuzaki]

L never felt like he needed a shower, in the Institute, and never knew whether or not he should be unsettled by that fact. The night that he, Jones, and Lunge had faced the Minotaur in the ruins, he had fallen among bones and dust and shattered wood, but when he woke up the next morning, he was clean, as if nothing had ever happened. He didn't have the impression that he had been bathed; there was no telltale dampness at the nape of his neck or behind his knees or in any other place it might have appeared. Rather, it was as if the clock had been turned back: as if they lived the same day over and over.

-- Yes. Unsettling.

No position in the shower room seemed more private to him than others, so he took the closest one available, determined to make short work of the task. It bothered him, to a small extent, to be forced to appear nude in front of anyone who had been a student at Wammy's House. He had presented an image to the children there, one of mystery and power, and he preferred to preserve what was left of it, whatever his apparent early death hadn't shattered. The current circumstances made revealing himself in the most literal way unavoidable. A glance around the room as he took up his place showed that the scarring on Mello's face extended down his arm and covered his shoulder. -- A sizable failure, then.

After three months shackled to Yagami, forced intimate proximity didn't rankle him as much as it might have in the past. He had no trouble joining the line of naked and half-naked men on that score. As a patient, though, he was treated like cattle, with little agency of his own; he resented it more than he could express, so much that he had to continue to set aside his anger. As the warm water ran down his bony frame, he wondered how long he would be able to push his feelings down, to use them as motivation. A day might come when he would wind himself tightly enough to break.

On the pretense of retrieving a sweatshirt from his room after breakfast, he had locked his journal, and Javert's notes, in his desk drawer, but he had first made a point of reading the transcript of the previous night's radio broadcast. Help with the portals--is that how I wound up in something like my headquarters? Or is it something else? He felt a rush of impatience to talk to Marc again, to demand straighter answers, to ask he how knew about the portals at all if he'd spent the afternoon in Doyleton (and the night--where?), but it wasn't an interview that he could request or demand. He might never have the chance.

Showering should be peaceful, but his mood was souring by the minute; he let out a frustrated sigh. As soon as he had scrubbed down, thoroughly rinsed, and attended to his hair, he dried himself and dressed. Although he suspected that the indiscreet patients were also the boring ones, he still might be able to learn something interesting with the help of the bulletin board.

[To the Sun Room.]