damned_institute | Day 51: Arts & Crafts (4th shift)

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Day 51: Arts & Crafts (4th shift)

There were very few activity shifts, Cloud was sure, that could possibly make him feel more like he was being treated like a child. He took a seat at one of the tables and blankly examined the materials set out before him. A pair of the dullest scissors he'd ever seen were labeled 'ages 3 and up'. It was good to know where the patients stood in this.

He wasn't much of an artist, and he ignored most of the paints and other drawing utensils in favor of a few sheets of colored paper and instructions on how to make origami. That sounded vaguely familiar. Didn't Yuffie have throwing weapons made out of paper at some point? It was something to do anyway, and thus Cloud began the process of crafting what ended up being very elaborate paper wads.

Sadly, his attempts to keep from dwelling on the subject of his missing friend failed when he realized this was something Aerith probably would have enjoyed greatly. Tonight, he and Yuffie would go out and try to accomplish... something. It was depressing to think there really might not be anything they could do, that they might all end up the same as the flower girl eventually.

[for a hopefully more optimistic materia thief]

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Despite having once been a construct, the Scarecrow found after only a few minutes of being left alone at a table with colorful string, some sticks, and instructions to make something in order to practice his hand coordination that he wasn't very good at putting things together himself. He drummed his hands on the table idly, not sure what he was supposed to do with either the sticks or the wad of knotted string. Waiting until the nurse had left the room, he pulled a piece of paper from a pile on another table, simultaneously nabbing what seemed to be a thicker version of the pens that came with the patient journals.

Now what was it he was going to draw? The Scarecrow tapped the pen to the paper, thinking a moment before drawing a figure- a girl in a dress, dog in hand. It certainly didn't have much of a likeness to the actual Dorothy, but it would do. He worked on the Tin Man next, putting his axe in his hand, careful to include his oil can in case the drawing should rust like the original. Lion appeared after that, ribbon in his mane, medal affixed to his front as a sign of his new-found bravery. He added himself last, crows flying around his shoulders, his doctorate in Thinkology in his gloved hand.

The Scarecrow sighed, biting his lip. He sure did find himself homesick an awful lot, even with all the wonderful experiences his human body gave him.

Leaning on his hand, he glanced around the room, watching the other tables as people filed in. He had a lot on his mind: the Wizard Landel's deception, Dorothy all alone, people not believing in Oz because of the movie, the man in said movie who shared his face and body, whether or not he enjoyed being human to the point of- no, it was too much to consider at the moment. He could think until he'd thought a hole in the ground, and it wouldn't do him any good without brains. What he needed was a way to get his brains back, or find some that would work temporarily... but where?

[Agatha]

"Y'know, Cloud, if you just screw up a few bits of paper together before liberally applyin' your fist, they come out looking almost as good."

Suddenly, a ninja! A ninja carrying an armful of brightly origami paper, a few pipe-cleaners, two tubs of glitter, and a tube of craft glue. Yuffie grinned, bright as metal in the summer sunshine, and dumped the lot onto the table. She was sorry to see that the tubs didn't explode, since a sparkly, glittering Cloud was the best Cloud of all.

Still, wasn't like she couldn't just glitter him up by herself. She did have good aim, and he was right there. Sedation would be a small price to pay.

Without waiting for an invitation, Yuffie chucked herself unceremoniously into an empty chair. The resulting sprawl of skinny limbs wasn't exactly the comfiest of arrangements, but she gave herself points for ingenuity, originality, and zestful inconsideration. Today had been way too serious, and far, far too tiring. Too full of pessimism and defeat and furrowed eyebrows. The only highlight had been the dude jumping up on his table at lunch, and then he'd gone and delivered the lamest motivational speech she'd ever heard.

[from here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/959813.html)

Her hair was mostly dry by the time she wheedled her way back into the arts and crafts room. But still. Tying her hair up single-handedly wasn't going to cut it. She sighed, half-annoyed, then wandered the room looking for something else to do. Paper animal war wouldn't cut it this time. Maybe something really hands on?

There were a couple packages of clay that Meche had mentioned once, and that seemed just the thing. She snagged them, shoving them under her arm, then made her way to a table. Getting a package open between fingers and teeth was well and good--making anything that looked like anything was a different story. 'Specially seeing she was down a hand. Nice. The girl rolled her eyes and started making details in the lump. At least her blob could have a face.

[Meche]

"I don't think I'm really clean yet, can't I just go in for a little while?"

"Mr. Caul, the adult showers are over. You can't have another one."

"I'll just stand in the corner, how's that?"

"No, Mr. Caul."

It had been worth a shot. Abe finally abandoned his attempt to sneak into a shower populated by naked young men and slunk over to the arts and crafts room. Tyrants. Wasn't water therapy a viable form of treatment, he'd read about it somewhere.

He took up a seat with a few sheets of paper and a sharpened pencil. Sketching would be almost as peaceful, though, it would take his mind away from the nonsense perpetuated around this mad place. The pencil-tip hovered as Abe considered what to draw...no. Not her. Something pleasant and peaceful.

Abe ran a hand over his paper and meticulously began work on an anatomically correct sketch of a kitten.

[Free!]

So, after his talk with Aidou and some coordination over the bulletin, it looked like he'd worked out a plan for tonight. Zack was glad for that; as much as he hated to admit it, Shin-Ra had made him accustomed to mission plans. He was used to going into something with some idea of the main objective and the way to obtain it.

It was a shame that Cloud couldn't come along, but he'd already stolen his friend for the previous night, and it was unfair of him to be too greedy. Besides, with Cloud and Yuffie trying out the ring, at least he would be able to hear the results the following day. And hopefully he'd have some information about the basement for them in return.

Picking up Tifa as their third person was a little unexpected, and Zack could only hope that he wouldn't regret it. He had to assume that she was a good fighter by now, but he still couldn't completely get over the image of her in her cowboy hat back in Nibelheim. She was a good person, though, and she probably wouldn't make a fuss as they worked their way toward the basement, so he was crossing his fingers on that.

So with all of that more or less taken care of, there was only one loose end to tie. It took him a while, but Zack eventually tracked down the nurse who he had spoken to that morning to check with her about Aerith. The look on the woman's face was enough to let him know that the news wasn't good for him. The nurse tried to assure him that she was in a better place now that her mind had healed, but he knew better.

It hadn't been healed; it'd been warped.

Still, the soldier forced a frown off of his face when he walked into the Arts and Crafts room, taking in the new area with only a mild curiosity. They were supposed to be doing some sort of paper folding. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Zack had never tried it himself. He saw that Yuffie and Cloud had already met up and considered joining them, but ultimately decided against it. He'd spoken with the ninja girl this morning and figured that the two might have stuff they wanted to discuss in relative privacy.

So he could give this origami thing a try on his own. Finding an empty table that had the materials and a how-to book laid out, Zack flipped to a page that explained how to make a dog (not a puppy, a dog) and started to fold.

Seeing Tear again had ultimately been a relief. Guy had spent too long wondering about what she had been doing with herself out in the world beyond this place and beyond Doyleton, and now he realized that he would never know. The memories of what she'd been up to while brainwashed were probably gone forever, and while that was eerie, maybe it was for the best. The point was that he knew that she was better off here, as backwards as that sounded. Tear was not one who took forced control lightly, and she would much prefer to be a help than a commodity. Guy would have felt the same way in her place.

As would have any of his friends, really. Luke, Natalia, Anise, even Jade... Maybe that sort of determination was what had brought them together in the first place. Similarly, it was that that would get them out of here. He had to remind himself of that as much as possible, and seeing more of his friends here did help in the end, as depressing as it was to know that they were all trapped. No one was working from the outside to help them, but that was all right. They had managed well enough on their own in the past.

But he was thinking too much now. As Guy walked into the Arts and Crafts room, he found himself searching for Luke. They had a lot to talk about, and there was still a lingering concern about his memory that he needed to check with his friend. Unfortunately, it didn't look like the redhead was here yet, and so Guy sat himself down and waited.

He took note of the sheets of paper and the instruction books with a mild curiosity. It was hard to believe that the staff was actually listening to their suggestions, but here was proof. Okita had told him some about this origami stuff, and he had to wonder if he was the one who had suggested this in the first place. Guy was sure it was just a ploy to make them feel more comfortable here, but that didn't mean he couldn't exploit it. He was pretty good with his hands; why not give this a shot?

Grabbing a white and pink piece of paper, Guy started to try and make a rabbit by following along with the instructions. Too bad there weren't any rappig or cheagle designs.

[For Luke!]

...paper, colored pencils, and quiet. Those would do, for now. Not that Endrance was sketching anything or anyone in particular, but the bit of quiet was nice. Soothing, in its way.

He wasn't thinking - in fact, he was trying hard not to think, since thinking made his already-clouded head hurt more than it already did. Cursed cold...he hadn't had one since finishing school and had just about forgotten how miserable they made you feel.

Endrance's pencil was still working, even as he tried to focus on the page. The shape of a large tree was becoming clearer. Indieglut Lugh...of course, I would think of that cold, when feeling like this. Of course...

With the scene setting itself, he began to work in blues and greys, shading the background.

[free, but may be slow.]

Having just been there, Kairi took her previous seat back at the table, glad to see that the nurses hadn't moved the paper away from the table. She still had the cranes that Uryuu had made for her, and she planned on making some as well as he had.

... At least, she would try.

Taking a dark purple piece of paper, Kairi began folding the sheet, trying her hardest to make the creases perfect.

... However, after a few minutes and only one crane made, she gave up. Standing up, she returned moments later with a piece of paper and a paint brush in hand, as well as a small cup of paint. Sitting back down, she began to simply paint whatever came to mind.

If Venom carried awards, he could most certain give one to Nurse: over the course of five minutes, she had turned herself into a one-woman opera, perpetually reminding him that he hadn't, in fact, eaten anything once again while she accompanied his walk. He was already fully aware of that, if his empty stomach, failing energy, weakened body, and the increased effort in moving one foot ahead of the other joining the aforementioned opera meant anything. The information danced languidly around his head in dully blinking lights, and he neither took stock in her words or kept them for later - he needed to think of the plans for the night and for the future. His health came second to his work.

Edward had agreed to allow Bella to join their mission for the night, meaning Edward's incessant need to be distracted by the thought of the girl on her own would at least be somewhat nullified. It meant an extra body to protect on top of his already injured self, yes, one that may not be fully able to watch for herself, but if it meant work could be done then he was willing to take the hit. She also knew what her fiance happened to be, meaning there would have to be no secrecy around their main goal. They could find what they needed, get their results, and brainstorm on other tests in one night, cutting down on wasted time.

But that couldn't be their only avenue of information for the night. If they were going to chase something down, especially if it could be found anywhere, they could also investigate something else the assassin had a certain curiosity for--

"--try to relax for now, Vincent. I'll come get you when it's time to go," Nurse's voice finally cut in, bringing Venom back out of his thoughts into...

Arts and Crafts. His eyes narrowed on instinct upon seeing the insides of the room, its condescending nature grating his already frayed nerves. Somehow, he had been so lost in himself that he hadn't recognized the location until now, but now that he firmly understood where he was, he wasn't happy.

He was surrounded by glitter.

He sneered to himself under his bangs, pushing away the paper that had been rested in front of him before crossing his arms. He did not like this room, but the time alone would still offer him time to reflect.

[Howlinda, it's time to make the Wicked Witch popular. u__u]

Edited 2010-08-20 01:32 (UTC)

"Ha." Cloud tossed one of the wads at the girl before pulling out a set of instructions from underneath a pile of his failures and casually glancing over them again. No one could really be that precise with paper, right? No one with clumsy, sword-wielding hands like his anyway. This was just an exercise in futility.

Much like their nightly excursions? Maybe. It could be a metaphor.

He cast a wary eye on the mound of supplies Yuffie had dragged over. Surely she didn't plan on actually using all of those, and he had a nasty suspicion that he was going to regret not moving the moment she joined him. "If any of that gets on me, you don't touch the materia. Ever." Glitter took so, so long to get out of his hair.

It was nice to see a smiling face, though, even if it ultimately meant a messy doom for anyone within a couple yard radius.

On the upside, lunch with LeChuck had seemed to feel blessedly short. On the downside, that was only because she felt like she had spent half the shift falling in and out of awareness. Food hadn't really helped much until the end of the shift, when it seemed the activity of people moving onto the next shift brought back some of her attention.

"Not good, not good at all..." Elaine murmured as she rubbed fervently at her eyes in an attempt to force herself back to awareness. There was no question that this kind of drowsiness was not natural. Not only did the bulletin confirm it (http://community.livejournal.com/damned_bulletin/737754.html), but Elaine knew her own body well; it did not get this exhausted with this little reason behind it. The only good news there was that in knowing that, at least, she could make an attempt to resist the feeling. She was not going to let Landel beat her that easily, not when she had gotten herself out of far worse in the past.

For the time being, she sought out something to keep her mind alert. At least in a room like Arts & Crafts, there was no shortage of material to aid such a task. After grabbing some yellow clay, Elaine sat herself down and started sculpting an object she was very familiar with - the Idol of Many Hands. She concentrated on the details of the Idol and the size of it, forcing her mind to shape things as closely as possible to the real thing. Doing this wasn't exactly going to produce anything useful, like her abstract map had, but at least this would be enough to keep her awake, she figured.

[For her Snugglecakes~]

Origami, huh?

Sylar peered at the sheets of colorful paper in front of him, nudging the pile with a finger. The last time he'd encountered something Japanese, it'd stabbed him in the stomach with a samurai sword, but he doubted this stuff could do much worse to him than a paper cut – if even that. It felt even flimsier than he remembered from gradeschool, but then again, a lot of things did.

He pulled the nearby instruction book toward him, opening it up and flipping through the pages absentmindedly. On further thought, the samurai sword hadn't really been his last encounter with the Far East: many of the people here seemed to be Japanese for whatever reason, and for all he knew, last shift could've been his last brush with the country. It was hard to tell, with almost everyone here speaking American English, even if that whole... thing last night had proved it all to be some elaborate hoax. Sylar had seen too much in his life to question the whole how of the universal translation, but he did wonder about the why. If the goal of this place was to truly encourage confusion and terror in everyone, then preventing people from understanding each other would be the quickest way to do it. Instead, the nuthouse was going out of its way to make sure that previously mentioned idiots could spill previously mentioned info to previously mentioned strangers, and that just seemed... really goddamn counterintuitive.

Sylar's fingers tightened at the edge of a page. He wanted to tell himself not to question something that benefitted him in the end, but he knew better than that now. Everything had been placed here by their captors for a reason. Every step he took forward was another cue for him to stumble.

His eyes wandered down to the book. He'd stopped on an illustration of a paper boat.

He took a piece of paper, glanced at the diagrams and the descriptions. Over, inwards, outwards, corners in, backwards, pull–

Done. Sylar appraised his work briefly, then put it down and turned to the next page. Dog. Over, over, out, down, in, over...

A few minutes later, a row of delicately folded figures sat in front of him, including a crane, a pencil holder, and a dragonfly. Sylar leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slowly as he crossed his arms over his chest.

That had been... easy. Very easy – much easier than he'd expected, or rather, just as easy as he should have expected. He reached forward to close the instruction book, then grabbed another piece of paper, folding it into one of the more intricate patterns he'd tried: the dragonfly. It wasn't long before he finished the new one from memory, and it looked about the same level of quality as the first.

He narrowed his eyes as he set it down next to the others. So... his original power, his ability to see and understand the inner workings of things, was still very much intact. He'd guessed as much from his brief time in the auto shop, but it was one thing to see parts of a whole and another to sit down and try to put them together. He thought back to the equipment he'd grabbed from the upstairs lab storage. Maybe he should try to use them on something tonight. It'd keep his mind off of... things, and it'd be a good test. It'd be a useful test.

More useful than some paper animals, anyway.

Sylar closed his eyes and rubbed gently at the wad of gauze still taped to his forehead. Doing menial tasks wasn't on the same level as studying brains, but for once in his life, he wasn't really in the mood. He'd gotten enough backlash from grey matter in this place to last him a lifetime.

[ For L. ]

Edited 2010-08-20 15:01 (UTC)

[slow is good for me]

Sheena had caught a glimpse of Yukari sitting down in the Sun Room, so the ninja made a beeline for the Arts & Crafts room. Yes, she was going to have to talk to the youkai, but right now... she was still playing Avoid the Youkai and decisively not talking to her. It was silly since she knew it had been Special Counseling, but Sheena had been on both ends now, so she knew how much of that was actually in Yukari. And Sheena was only human. She just... wasn't ready yet.

Neck heavily bandaged and a nasty cut on her bottom lip held together by bits of medical tape, the ninja sat down across from Endrance. She hadn't talked to him since her and Haseo had cornered her about Shadow. About her summon and the time when she'd been on Special Counseling and hurt Endrance. Some might call the fact that she chose to sit with him ironic. She just had a question.

"Hey Endrance," she said quietly. "What would you do if your summon attacked you. Tried to break you?

[ From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/958801.html?thread=71891281#t71891281) ]

Amaterasu was feeling pretty good from her eventful day and when her nurse offered the option to spend her afternoon painting, she jumped at the chance.
She was amazed with everything she saw in the arts and crafts room. Everyone was working creatively with different projects and it took a great effort for the goddess to not move around the room to study over their shoulders.
Ammy found herself a few sheets of paper, a calligraphy brush and a bottle of black ink from a set of cabinets. With those in hand, she sat down at a nearby table and prepared to work.

Just when she held her paintbrush in hand and was ready to dip it in ink, her gaze shifted to the side and she took notice to the girl sitting next to her. She was very cute, with red hair and the bluest eyes Ammy had ever seen. She was painting a picture, but it was hard to see what shape it would take. Amaterasu placed her paintbrush on the table and took to watching this girl work instead. Eventually, her curiosity got the best of her and she could not help but speak up.

"What is it?" The goddess worried that her question was too rude or that it would break the girl's concentration. She bit her lip as soon as she said it, yet her eyes remained focused on the painting.

A flimsy lil' paper projectile like that would've been totally harmless, but reflexes were reflexes. Yuffie dodged, and nearly fell out of the chair for her trouble. A quick, flailing snatch at the corner of the table saved her.

"H-Hey!" she protested, dragging herself upright again. Her expression crumpled into a pout. A pout which intensified seconds later, when pulled his ace: no glitter, or no materia. "You can't threaten me with that! I lent you my sword, didn't I? You owe me for that! You owe me!" The materia was just as much hers as it was anybody else's in AVALANCHE, as far as Yuffie was concerned. "Besides, you could do with a bit more bounce n' sparkle. I'd be doing you a favor."

Instead of immediately going in for the kill, Yuffie grabbed a few pieces of origami paper and set to work. Nimble fingers flew as she made the necessary creases, turns, and folds. A chocobo to start with, she'd decided, half unconsciously, as soon as she'd seen Cloud in the room. And it was shaping up to be a good one.

Meche wasn't feeling particularly creative today, but they said art was therapeutic, after all. It had to be better than moping, at least. She wandered around the supplies for a while and finally settled on some sheets of construction paper and a box of thin markers. One of the nurses nodded approvingly at her as she turned away and moved toward the tables. Meche's mouth thinned into a straight, bitter line. Yeah, she was just such a good patient, wasn't she?

She was just about to sit down by herself when she noticed Senna at one of the tables. She was making something out of clay, but apparently having some trouble with it--not surprising, since one of her arms was in a sling. Meche invited herself over and took a seat at the table next to the girl, laying her own supplies out next to the packages of clay. "How's it going?" she asked lightly, not clarifying whether she was referring to the art project, the day, or life in general. She'd just let Senna answer whichever question she wanted.

Tenzen's lunch had been - aside from the idiot that chose to climb on top of a table and hold what was likely the most ridiculous speech he had ever heard in the over 200 years of his existence - been rather uneventful.

The next time-wasting event would be what they called arts and crafts, and the ninja couldn't help but scowl when the infuriating nurse was somehow assuming that he'd like the childish and nonsensical activities they chose to waste their time with. But the woman insisted he'd do something 'creative' and ushered him towards a table littered with objects Tenzen did not care about. These objects included but were not limited to colorful folding paper likely used for Origami (there were even instruction books on how to do so).

It was mildly surprising to find something of his own home country in this Western place, but it hardly meant the ninja had any interest in partaking in the activity. Though he had heard of it, it was not the sort of thing a man such as Yakushiji Tenzen would indulge in.

[Funtimes von Karma & Gant]

Art time!

Well, more like 'Let's see whether the nurse will confiscate the pictures with a queasy look on her face again' time, but it was as close to 'art' as HK was ever going to get!

Unfortunately, he hadn't been in any particularly interesting fights since he was last subjected to this activity, but that just meant he had a chance to go back through some of his best kills for inspiration!

Taking a rather discordant selection of colored markers and a sheet of paper, HK began to faithfully transcribe the result of one of his marks running directly into a high-speed traffic lane. He'd saved that memory, just for the look on the face of the target as he found himself suddenly half as tall as he used to be, and the expression of the speeder driver when he suddenly found that a torso had flipped itself into the passenger seat.

[Hammer! 8D]

_{[Here, kitty, kitty, kitty...]}

As per usual, the day was passing slowly and rather uneventfully, and Yomi was obediently moving from place to place, watching the sun move while waiting the peace out. Honestly, though, she wasn’t complaining that she’d had some quiet time to herself throughout her shower and lunch. When she felt that pinch of irritation, it seemed some time was all that was needed for her to reassess her situation. And for the sesshouseki to reaffirm itself. What semblance of calm she had always returned, eventually.

And now her choice of activity was between the Sun Room or… origami. Really, origami? How fluky.

It was a cutesy daytime craft, no more, but Yomi found the coincidence enough to stay her decision to merely do the usual. Since the usual--checking the bulletin board and monitoring other people--could be done doing anything, anywhere, she didn’t lose by occupying herself with trivial stuff. It wasn’t like she had an important date to keep. Just time to pass.

Maybe she’d have a go. The boy, Albedo, he’d wanted his origami wish, after all, and it took more than one or two pieces to get one.

Yomi took a seat at an occupied table near the middle of the room--no, there was no hiding in a corner today--and pulled some paper toward her, leaving the others in the room to their business. She didn’t need an instruction book or people for this. In fact, she didn’t need anything for this--this was easy, mindless activity, and on the outside, Yomi could be exactly what her nurse wanted. An innocent, well-meaning patient. She hadn’t cared to spend time drying it, and so her hair was still damp, hanging down around her like she’d never wear it if she were prepared for a battle as she was at night. She was sure she wouldn’t get any trouble from the staff for a little while now.

"Come on, Mr. Fuchs! You've already skipped this once before, and it's essential to your recovery!"

"OBJECTION!" von Karma barked at the damned nurse, clicking his fingers at her. "Explain exactly how wasting time on these frivolous activities will promote mental 'recovery.' What advantage do they have over spending time in the library? Though the literary selection in there is paltry, at least reading is far more productive for keeping one's mind sound than folding scraps of paper into useless shapes or," he shuddered in disgust, "sullying our fingers in the process of tracing them through that inferior excuse for paint to create childish pictures."

The nurse merely smiled at him in that patronizing manner as though she were humoring a gullible child. "Well, if that's how you're going to play, Mr. Fuchs... objection overruled! Dr. Landel specifically prescribed this treatment just for you. You need to exercise more creativity, be less stodgy. Now come on!" The woman's grip on von Karma's wrist was tight as she dragged him into the Arts and Crafts room.

The prosecutor grumbled as he surveyed what awaited him in this room. Well, now he knew how that insolent person managed to make their response to him on the bulletin board from over a week ago all gaudy. That blasted glitter nearly blinded him! But that was nothing compared to the other supplies that he would never even allow his granddaughter to touch. Macaroni? Crayons? Googley eyes?! Right away, these origami lessons offered during this shift sounded far more appealing to him.

He looked around in the room to ensure that a certain chief of police who would no doubt enjoy partaking in such nonsense wasn't here, and instead found another man who seemed just as pleased to be stuck here as he was. von Karma gave the stranger a cursory nod then folded his arms and said, "Hmph. If they're going to coerce us into artistic pursuits, they might as well at least offer adequate supplies for doing so. This flimsy paper isn't suitable for lining trash cans, let alone for creating intricate sculptures! Wouldn't you agree?"

Arts and Crafts might be boring and useless to most of the people here, but Kagura actually truly enjoyed it. This was something she was good at, something familiar, and it made her feel accomplished somehow, to be able to do this much.

She was quick to sort through the needles and thread, finding some spare scraps of fabric and blessedly, some ribbons. She took whatever she could get her hands on, wondering why she hadn't thought of it before. She found an empty table and took up a needle, carefully threading it, then started stitching down the loops of ribbon, forming a very cute little bow.

[Paging Dr. Bad Touch. Dr. Bad Touch?]

After lunch, Lelouch headed straight for the Arts & Crafts room, picking out a table of his own and immediately laying out several sheets of origami paper. In the off chance that the nurses actually allowed him to spend time with his sister this shift, he wanted to be prepared, and if they didn't... well, maybe he would get points for good behavior. At any rate, he would at least seem busy, and if that discouraged people from talking to him that he would rather not, all the better.

Without thinking a great deal about what he was doing, he began folding yet another pink paper crane. Nunnally's message to him on the board was still very much on his mind, and while the future crane would hardly be any sort of talisman against whatever was plaguing her (and him, by extension), he felt somewhat calmer as he formed the first sharp crease. Now, if only the nurses would drop their vendetta against the two of them and let them have a quiet moment alone together, things might actually start looking up.

[Teresa.]

His conversation with Mr. von Karma having gone as well as could be expected, Guybrush scuttled into his next shift, thankful for the nurse's interruption for a change. "Ah, arts and crafts. Another activity I was probably better at when I had two hands, but I'll bet I've got an advantage in crocheting now."

His usual narration was brief- every pun he'd been considering involving hooks and yarn was tossed aside as his eyes landed on the figure of his (soon-to-be/already) wife. "Elaine! Of all the times for DeLandel to have grabbed her, it was from that one period where she was slightly less capable than normal. Hopefully, she didn't have it too rough last night without me by her side, defending her honor and body with nothing more than a shovel and my undaunted charisma. Okay, time to make sure Morgan and LeChuck haven't made me look like an idiot at any point in the last twenty-four hours."

Guybrush smoothed his hair with his hand, feeling like a lovesick teenager as he took the seat next to his darling Plunderbunny. This was still the same Elaine who would ultimately end up marrying him- she had turned out loving him even when he was younger and far more foolhardy than he was now with his years of piracy experience and fine beard. Why did the thought of conversing with her make his insides melt again?

Oh yeah, it was probably the thought that she might not marry him after all, not like the older, more mature Guybrush Threepwood for some reason and end up with LeChuck or some other man who could swash her buckles. It wasn't going to happen. Everything would be a thousand times easier if she was the Elaine who'd been stuck with him for years and was committed to him rather than the Elaine who still had a chance to change her mind and hadn't yet had him rescue her from her golden transformation.

Guybrush realized he was sitting and staring at her awkwardly- smooth. "Elaine, my beautiful butterfly, I'm glad to see you in one piece. I couldn't find you last night- got interrupted by these monster frogs in the hallway, then the guy I was with started speaking in French and everything got a little weird. I'm thinking you should give me your room number so I can come straight to you next time. And you should probably just stay in your room at night. Not wander around without me."

Thaaaaaat had probably been the least comfortable conversation he had experienced in his time here at the institute. Not only did Gant not know where he stood with the supposed vigilante teenager, but the chief wasn't even sure what he thought of the situation. Was Showy going to be useful to him here, or was he a lowly, murdering scumbag that deserved death just as much as the crooked politicians he held a vendetta against? Did Gant have the ability to turn a blind eye to such behavior? Could he honestly even believe all that stuff about Showy? Well, maybe he could stew on it a while and come to some conclusions later. He just... needed to get his mind off it for now, or else a migraine was sure to hit. This place already gave him enough of a headache as it was.

The next shift looked to be Arts and Crafts, but he refused to go until he had left a quick note for Lana on the bulletin. He left is unsigned, just to be safe. She would recognize his handwriting and he was certain she would respond if she was able. That done, he allowed Nurse Millie to take him to the crafts room. He didn't much care for arts and crafts himself, but bright splashes of color was sure a sight for sore eyes. So much better than the gray, gray, gray that was everywhere here at Landel's.

The familiar ranting of a dear, old prosecutor was easily picked up on, and Gant followed the voice to a table where both Manny and a rather gruff-looking man sat. Smiling his biggest smile, though it was a little more forced than usual, Gant strolled over and took a seat himself. "You just say that because you have no creativity, Manny! It's art! You gotta look outside the box. See the beauty beyond the cheap kiddie supplies."

Gant clasped his hands together and turned to the other man, still smiling. "So, who do we have here?" Please, don't let it be another vigilante of justice. Please, please, please be normal!

[*purrs*]

After lunch, Scar found himself practically dragged to the Arts & Crafts room. The former lion had been content with remaining in the Sun room, but naturally, the nurse didn't quite agree with his plans. For the sake of his so-called recovery, the nurse considered it appropriate for him to try something creative, whatever sort of creativity that may be. With a roll of his eyes and a sigh, he glanced around the room for a place to sit so he could pretend to draw shapes on paper in peace. Or folding paper in piece, as it turned out to be. Both activities seemed equally useful.

Near the middle of the room - rather difficult to miss, actually - he noticed a familiar face. Yomi, the girl he had traveled to the file room with. It had been some time since they last met, however. Hnn. She hadn't been bad company, so perhaps it wouldn't hurt to partake in some socializing. At the very least, it would keep the daytime staff out of his mane. And, it would provide an adequate distraction of matters he did not want to think about. No, he much preferred a possibly increasing headache.

"It certainly has been a while, hasn't it Yomi?" Scar said by manner of greeting. "I see you are well."

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Day 51: Arts & Crafts (4th shift)

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