DAY 52: BREAKFAST

[nobleobliged.livejournal.com]

How one's body could maintain a waking schedule when sleep came unnaturally and in a room without windows, must surely be a mystery. Yet, as if working on cue, Natalia stirred well before her nurse arrived. That was normal. Less so, the weight that sought to press her eyelids closed again, the heaviness of her limbs that made lifting her hands to her face an effort. She put her wrist to her forehead with a frown, then attempted a jolt of energy – to swiftly dig her hands into the mattress and shove herself into a seated position, and from there, to her feet.

Not to overexert herself once again, but to refuse that it could be possible after sleeping. Happily, though all still felt leaden, her head did not swim. Encouraged, Natalia put on her slippers, rearranged the bedding, and waited. There came the announcement (reminding her, suddenly, of what she had last heard, and the guilt that had twisted in her gut, Jill--), and her face wrinkled with disgust at the hacking sound. Therapy and breakfast. Food would surely help.

Natalia did not wait long before her nurse opened the door, and after exchanging cursory “Good Morning”s (with rather more enthusiasm on the other woman's part), they began the walk to the Cafeteria. With, of course, the essential rest room stop, where water was splashed and scrubbed over her face, and her hair toyed with to no great satisfaction. At least the shower had renewed its body.

Separating in the Cafeteria, Natalia took her place in line and loaded her plate: eggs, fruit salad, fried “tater tots” (potatoes?), and curious meat wrapped in cooked dough. Some of everything, with juice and water. She thanked her servers, collected utensils and napkins, and found a seat at an empty table. It was early yet.

Sparing a brief look around to be sure no one she recognized had arrived – though she remained eager to greet every patient, at the moment she chose to focus on the possible strength gained from the meal – Natalia began to cut up the items and eat with a refined gusto. Entirely possible!

[Claude!]

Comments

[stellarregions]

Compared to the two previous evenings, last night had been fairly uneventful. He hadn't learned as much as he would have liked to, but Gren figured that was a fair trade for feeling less exhausted this morning. Even his arm hurt less than it had the previous day.

The mention of 'therapy' on the announcement, however, didn't bode well. While he was fairly sure they were too committed to the day-time appearance of normality to do anything outright harmful, he had no doubt that whatever it was would probably be geared towards convincing the patients that they were all delusional. Still, maybe if he payed attention, he could learn something.

He went through the line and fixed a breakfast plate at the nurse's insistence. He still didn't have much of an appetite, but he knew he couldn't really blame that on the institute. He'd gotten there early that morning, so there was plenty of empty seats. Picking one, he sat down and began poking at his breakfast.

[Open]

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

Well, that was a huge relief!

After ending the night on such a huge revelation, Kibitoshin was more than a little anxious to find out if it really meant what he thought it meant- if Michaelangelo was Sechs’ roommate, there was a chance that he’d been the one who’d been harassing him, and that would have been the last thing he needed to know. He’d ended up waiting by the bulletin board until he finally got an answer (much to his nurse’s dismay- “You shouldn’t obsess, dear, it isn’t healthy.”), and thankfully it was the one he’d been hoping for. Michaelangelo had only recently moved in.

The faint stab of relief he’d felt on reading it wasn’t just for Sechs’ sake, though, and his first thought was that means there’s one less troublemaker around here!, after which he immediately felt the most awful stab of guilt. Wh-what kind of thought was that for him to be having?! Everyone was equally in trouble here! Even if it did make Sechs’ life a little easier, saying that kind of thing was just terrible!

No. He had to be fair about this, he decided as he put his breakfast together. It was terrible that anyone could just disappear here, regardless of what they were like, which was why it was his job to take care of as many people as possible. Even people like Mr. von Karma (argh).

Finally, Kibitoshin stopped in front of a man with long dark hair who seemed to be busy picking at his breakfast. Strangers were definitely included in his equation, after all. "Excuse me? Do you mind if I sit here?"

[emperesse.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/981503.html?thread=72770559#t72770559)]

To say the smell of the cafeteria assaulted her senses would be an understatement. The smell was unusual; not that hot dogs were a rarity in Japan, but they were an unusual attribute for her. She followed her nurse with her head straight and her nose wrinkling at the smell she couldn't place. In the distance, she could see the food. The small pieces of pork wrapped in bread reminded her of some of the things she had with Minato. Those afternoons where she tried new things always warmed her heart, but the unfavorable lighting and the similarly dressed individuals displeased her. She didn't like it.

But she suspected she had no choice but to deal. Mitsuru knew it was unwise to look down upon food, and she couldn't help but admit to the bit of curiosity within her. The food in the distance looked so strange. Was it some unusual American delicacy? What would its taste reveal to her? However unusual her experience was, she couldn't help but give in to that urge.

"I can handle the rest. Merci," she told her nurse as they neared the line. Others were lining up to do the same, so it was only expected that she could follow their lead.

It wasn't long until she acquired her tray and found an empty (and seemingly clean, she examined several of them until she was pleased with its glossy surface) table. Mitsuru looked around uncertainly. There were others she would like to speak to about these circumstances, but she understood the necessity behind discretion. There was no way of knowing why they were here. And why she was here by mistake.

So, she held off on interaction for the moment and picked up a small, wrapped hot dog and shoved it into her mouth. Her eyebrows furrowed as she handled it, and eventually swallowed. "... Strange," she said to herself. "I can't decide whether that was good or not."

[for Roxas!]

[rischiarare.livejournal.com]

What they had taken wasn't really of any use to the Nobody, but he figured it couldn't work. He hadn't even know what it was at first, and even now, waking up with the cold metal in his hand, he still wasn't sure what to do with the weapon. He couldn't use it himself; why would he want to? The Keyblade was obstinate sometimes, but it was his. It was what he knew, what he'd been born to use, and what was comfortable. This gun thing... it was heavy and cold and didn't have any light with it. Maybe someone else could use it.

Could he offer it on the bulletin board...? The nurses would probably take the offer down, so he'd have to find some way to be discreet. Maybe Sora knew someone who'd want it considering he'd been here a lot longer.

After hiding it in the folds of his Organization coat and tucking that back into his closet, the Nobody redressed himself in the Landel grays to be taken to breakfast. The cafeteria was a cornucopia of new scents and they immediately set his mouth to watering; it only took two moments for him to be driving his way through the line to pluck what food he could from waiting hands. He didn't know what a pig was or what it was wrapped in a blanket, but it smelled delicious.

He eagerly took a seat across from a girl with bright hair that... reminded him of someone, but he couldn't think of who. Shrugging the mysterious resemblance off, he popped a whole pig in his mouth and judged the taste accordingly.

Final judgement: just as good as it smelled.

As he popped the second one in his mouth, he remembered that some people were kind of weird about breakfast. "Hope you don't mind if I'm here," he said to her around the half chewed pig and the torn apart blanket, except it probably sounded more like "peu dun min iffim ear".

[moral-liberty.livejournal.com]

Morning had come to Kaworu slowly. It was the routine that made the world seem less real than the night he had left. Even as he was moved, it didn't seem as though he had woken at all. It was the memory of the night, looking into Ayanami's mirrored eyes, that seemed to be the truth. It was during the day that he was expected to be Addison, a person that did not exist, except in his own memory and the memories of others. Was that enough to bring him to life? Was there anyone who loved Addison, and saw instead Kaworu as the infection? Was he the unwelcome entity occupying the one they loved and missed?

This was not where he belonged, and yet, it was the only place he could exist. It was the only place where he could be Kaworu, and not Tabris. Yet, he could not exist as himself here either. Here, he would be Addison. There was no place for him anymore. He had made that decision, and accepted death. He had not known that death had not waited for him, but instead a loss of belonging. A loss of self.

All of them were lost. Taken from their home, the place where they were needed, that they in turn needed. Kaworu had no life that could be interrupted, but he had created one now. The attachments were growing stronger. Like the Lilim, he felt the pain of separation. He felt the threat of it. He wanted to regain that which he had possessed, and then lost. It was what it meant to be alive. To love, but not understand. To hurt. He was alive now. Alive, and without a place. The only sense of home that he held was in the heart of another. In his attention, there was peace.

Kaworu was led to a seat, and given his food. Still, he didn't sit, and didn't spare more than a moment for what he had been given before his eyes scanned the crowd.

[For Shinji!]

[sdatislife.livejournal.com]

Shinji, surprisingly enough, felt better this morning. His head felt a bit clearer. Maybe it had something to do with getting actual sleep last night - he'd passed out entirely, falling into sweet, dreamless sleep. No nightmares. No memories of blood. No watching as his friends died or left or were hurt. Although the memory of his encounter with Toji yesterday still stung him, he felt a bit stabler. He had retrieved the usual tray and today he actually had something of an appetite. He was looking for somewhere to sit, somewhere out of the way, when he spotted a familiar pair of crimson eyes, pale skin, pale hair.

He hesitated - Kaworu had promised him he would live. He wouldn't die. He wouldn't keep trying to end the world. He liked Kaworu. He was a friend - but it still hurt. The nurse accompanying him gave him a look and Shinji hastily found a seat across from Kaworu. He picked at his food for a moment before murmuring, "H-hey, Kaworu..."

[heroesdontshave]

Okay. Getting knocked out once was kind of ridiculous, but since he'd been distracted his first night, maybe it made some sense. But twice? He had even been on the lookout this time! How was it possible they'd managed to sneak up on him, knock him out, and drag him back to the room again?! What made it worse was he never remembered being attacked in any way either time. Just, BAM. Back in the room again. It was really starting to piss him off.

That same nurse-guard came to fetch him only minutes after he'd woken up, noticeably less warm in her greeting this time. Both were regarding each other more warily today by the looks of things. After yesterday, who could blame either of them? Apparently, she felt the need to issue him a threat, saying she hoped he'd "behave himself" today. Yeah. He knew what they'd do if he just went for it right off the bat again. He didn't like the idea of just standing around doing nothing like a good little prisoner, but he'd have to go along with it for now. Just wait til he got the chance to strike again.

Aside from some harsh looks, he didn't really say anything to the lady or the guards escorting her, which seemed enough to encourage her to talk him out of the room and start leading him around. Getting food, it looked like. She described it as something in a blanket which... didn't really sit right with him. It was kind of confusing to imagine. And it didn't exactly get any better once he actually had a tray of the stuff in his hands.

Yesterday, the food had been weird as hell, but at least it had been identifiable for the most part. Meat, bread, some weird sauces he'd never seen before. But this was... he didn't even have words for it. What the hell was he looking at? If it weren't on a tray and hadn't smelled kinda like food, he wouldn't have considered it edible. As hungry as he was, this stuff didn't look even the least bit appetizing.

He should... just eat it. Just shove it into his mouth. Cause it was food, right? Just food. Not like it was something to be afraid of. Snow picked up one of the... things, half curiously, half warily. He still hadn't the slightest clue what the hell it was supposed to be, but maybe it tasted better than it looked? Snow brought it up and was about to just pop it in when he ended up getting a better whiff of it. He stopped and stared at it a moment before bringing it to his nose to smell it again. His face shifted immediately. Erghh, uughhh... No. No! No way was anyone supposed to eat this!

[Zevran!]

[scavengerbird.livejournal.com]

His second morning. Zevran had become accustomed to waking up alone more often than not in his new line of work, but it didn't stop the room from feeling cold and empty. He held the while walls and sparse furniture accountable. Still, it was nicer than the night, as the oppressive feeling of being stalked had dissipated. It was normal to feel vulnerable to the changing fates, to the fickle life of a Crow, to the tides of Darkspawn, so on and so forth, all while protected only by one mad mage's friendship. But that was a different sort of stress. It was intellectual, he supposed. Worrisome things he was aware of and would like to avoid dying by. By comparison, the last two shadowy nights made him feel like prey. He didn't know what was wrong, only that it most definitely was. It was not as fun being on the receiving end.

So for that, he gave the morning some credit, as disappointing as it was that this whole thing was not a dream. Zevran's luck was not nearly so good for that. For a distraction, he made light conversation with his pretty nurse, who was as patient as a chantry sister, bless her heart. All of his charms, ranging from genuinely friendly to borderline inappropriate, were met with a mature response that completely ignored his implications. By the time they arrived at the dining hall, Zevran was nearly laughing at the absurdity of it.

"Mr. Veslasquez," she interrupted him before he could wax more poetic about her lovely assets and why she deserved to be pampered and adored, never to serve another soul again. "I don't think you'll have any trouble making friends, so why don't you sit here with Mr. Davidson?"

Zevran was ready to concede, but his thoughts were derailed when he got a look at this man. He was a human, to be sure, but he was massive. Most humans towered over their elven counterparts, but this was ridiculous. It took several seconds before Zevran could even acknowledge any other features. Blond, handsome, young, a little unshaven. And tall, did he mention tall? Before Zevran was delivered to him, he had been poking unhappily at a dish that Zevran was sure was Ferelden. No one else would have made something so unappetizingly practical. He had a plate of the things for himself as well.

Zevran recovered in time and took his seat, as his nurse had swiftly escaped him. He would miss her, but the giant was not hard on the eyes, and Zevran was not easily intimidated. He was just a little extra aware around those that were large enough to snap him like a twig. He kept all of his concern directed at the food though, and left only friendliness towards the man in his voice. "Ah, meat wrapped in bread," Zevran said with a heavy dose of mock appreciation. "I guess there is something to be said for... simplicity, no?"

[lighthearted]

If there was one thing Sora had never expected to do, it was wake up with a gun in his hand. That unsettling weight in his palm was enough to push the boy out of bed. While he knew that the weapon could be used for good, he still didn't feel comfortable handling it himself. It would end up in good hands one way or another (he would make sure of it), but at the moment it had to be hidden.

As he went to go shove it under a pile of other random items in his closet, he listened to Lydia's voice on the intercom and found himself worrying about her cough even when he knew that she was one of their enemies. Was there going to be a cold cycling through the patients now? Not that he had ever seen the head nurse interact with any of the patients, but still, germs could spread!

It was time to stop worrying about her, though. Sora knew that he had a big day ahead of him, with getting the club together and everything else. He was worried that all of his plans would only fall short, and yet he knew that his friends wouldn't let him fail. Roxas had even agreed to join! They were going to be fine. And if the club stayed small, that wasn't so bad, was it? He and Roxas had taken down a zombie together, which already proved how much teamwork mattered.

Sora decided that he wasn't going to post to the bulletin until he talked things over with Riku, and so he bypassed it for the moment, instead letting his nurse lead him all the way from his room to the cafeteria. He gathered some pigs in blankets and got a bit of fruit for his side order, with water to drink. Venom would have probably been impressed with how healthy the meal was.

Or maybe not. He seemed like a hard person to please.

It looked like he was early, since there were only a few patients hanging around, and no Riku, Kairi, or Roxas. Not even Naminé. Sora noticed the guy who had made the speech yesterday and wondered if maybe he should go talk to him, but in the end he decided it would be better to wait for his friends. He picked one of the many empty seats and flopped into it, quickly starting in on his breakfast.

[For Buzz Lightyear.]

[beyondinfinity.livejournal.com]

Just stay focused, Space Ranger, Buzz thought to himself as his eyes darted back and forth across the hall. He was apparently being escorted to a mess hall of some kind, but that definitely wasn't his highest priority right now. He could barely even glance down at himself without reeling from shock, and 'himself' wasn't even his biggest concern – what about everyone else? Somehow, he'd been separated from them and had ended up here, like this... It didn't make any sense! How could any of this have possibly happened?

And maybe that was the key to all this. Lotso, the factory settings switch... Buzz remembered waking up suddenly in that dump truck with no idea how he'd gotten there, and now he'd appeared in this strange facility just as suddenly and with just as little explanation. Something here stunk beyond the whole human thing – maybe... it was all some kind of strange hallucination. Maybe his friends had never been at the dump after all!

Buzz frowned. It had felt so real, so... terrifying.. But if it had never happened, then his friends had never been in danger. Maybe they'd managed to escape from Sunnyside without him, and maybe they'd even rejoined with Woody! Buzz let out a weary smile at that thought, resolving that no matter what was going on and whether or not this was all fake, he needed to try his best to get out of here and get back to them.

Maybe the nurse could help him with that. He turned toward her as she led him through a doorway into another hall.

"Ma'am?"

"My, aren't you a polite one!" the nurse replied approvingly. "What is it, Mr. Taylor?"

"It's Lightyear – Captain Buzz..." he trailed off and sighed, gingerly rubbing the side of his overly squishy face. (Geez, was this how being rubber felt like?) "I was just wondering if any of my friends were here. There's a cowboy and a cowgirl, a dinosaur, a piggybank–"

"What an active imagination!" exclaimed the nurse by way of interruption. Buzz's frown deepened and he jogged up to walk beside her.

"Listen, it's... really important," he pleaded, gesturing at her. "I don't know what happened to them – or what happened to me, for that matter – and I just need to make sure they're all right. You see, there was this bear–"

"I'm sure all your friends are perfectly fine. In fact," the nurse glanced back at him with a smile, "you might even see one of them on visitor day!"

"Visitor day?" Buzz echoed thoughtfully, rubbing his chin in a motion that turned into general exploration when he realized how much smaller it was. "Well, I guess that..."

He paused as he realized how ludicrous the idea was, as well as how little he even knew about the whole setup here. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind. All of this was muddling his head so badly that he felt like he couldn't even think straight. "Well, that... sounds good, but I'd really like to–"

[dualistic]

If the Head Doctor had had any choice words for them when the night had ended, Harvey had strayed way too far from the building to hear them. And yet he didn't regret it when he woke up to the coughing of the head nurse. Whatever Landel had had to say, it probably wouldn't have done him much good. That wasn't to say that finding those mines would benefit them in any way, but at least they hadn't been forced to wander the same hallways.

So there were both the ruins of a town that had been destroyed by unknown means, and now a mine that had clearly had a lot of work put into it before being abandoned. What had they been searching for, under the surface? Was it just about greed, or was there something more to it? Harvey couldn't help recalling how those corpses had forced their way out of the earth. It was almost like this building had been erected on cursed ground.

Except that that sounded like a horror story, not real life. How had he gone from running for DA in one of the largest US cities to now being caught in some haunted mental institution? With zombies and demon children for good measure? But if he kept asking that question, he'd only drive himself mad for certain.

There was also the little issue of Jones being from 1938 to consider, and yet all Harvey wanted to do was focus on what was palpable. On the facts, and the evidence, even if that was supposed to be in his past.

He stored his items away, being most careful about the gun, and then met the nurse without more than a grunt in greeting. He did request that she let him stop by the bulletin board, though, to finally make his post about people involved in law enforcement (and then add another question about what they had run into on the field that night, for good measure).

With that business taken care of, Harvey moved into the cafeteria and collected his vitamin shake without another word. They could have at least made an effort to change up the flavor of the nutritional cocktail, but apparently that was too much to ask. And so he sat himself down at an empty spot with the drink, waiting silently for nothing in particular.

[For Scott Pilgrim!]

[vstheworld]

Scott woke up with a headache, the kind you get from oversleeping. That made sense, he guessed; he and Knives had only just made it out of the patient block before that familiar blackout came over him. When was the last time that had happened so early on? Way back when he and Indy first saw that monster chick trying to snack on Keman? He couldn't remember for sure. Blggh. Too tired. No thinky please. Scott squeezed his eyes and pressed a hand against the side of his head, willing the throbbing to go away.

Eventually, he found himself in the cafeteria, a nurse leading him in by the shoulder as he drifted in and out of varying states of grogginess. Crap, he thought as the woman helped him fill his tray. What was he going to do about Knives? What if they conked out early again on another weapon run? He knew he couldn't put off another basement attempt forever, much as his man nipples supported that idea (he was totally happy not having breasts thankyouverymuchnoreallyseriouslynocuriositywhatsoever). People dropped out of the Institute all the time without warning; it was a freaking miracle that he, Peter, Indy, and Keman were all still together. He couldn't just leave Knives defenceless, though. Maybe he could convince her to stay in her room? Or find someone else to take her to the shed? Whatever she did, she wasn't coming on a basement run with him without some kind of weapon, that was for sure.

Speaking of basement runs. As Scott's Awareness Meter started to stabilize, he spotted a familiar face in the crowded cafeteria. Or rather, half a face. The other half, thankfully, was bandaged up, saving Scott from playing another round of Offensively Awkward Staring: The Game. He never had apologized for landing on that guy during the fight, had he? Or thanked him for backing the group up. Maybe it was his still-muzzy mental state stopping him from thinking about this being a potentially awkward encounter, or maybe he was just feeling that obligated - either way, Scott was already making his way over to Two-Face Wannabe's table.

"Hey," he greeted with a limp, weighed-down wave, setting his tray down and sliding into the seat across the table. "Um, thanks. For the other night and stuff," he said after a few moments, poking at his breakfast with a fork. "I'm Scott, if you don't remember."

[freewill]

While Castiel had no way of explaining how he knew, whatever had plagued them in the field had been some manner of spirit. It was something he could simply sense, just like he knew a demon from an angel, just like he'd known that Sam and Dean were from a time before they had ever met any divine beings. Well, they had run into Gabriel, but he was rather good at masquerading as something he wasn't.

It seemed that the end of night had managed to save them from the cold touch of that ghost, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't move on to haunt others in the coming nights. Castiel knew what the Winchesters would have termed it: a hunt in the making. And yet if he went to them now and explained himself, would they even take the words to heart?

He would have to try. Getting away from this place and back to Lucifer and Michael was more important, of course, but there was always a chance that he could gain the brothers' trust by helping them to dispose of the leftover soul.

But the first step would be finding them, and so Castiel pulled himself out of bed, running his hand through hair that didn't seem to stay in place as well as he was used to. Even though it was difficult to know if he was truly sleeping, his hair certainly behaved as if he'd been laying on it for a few hours, and he was busy trying to put it back into order when a nurse stepped in.

"Oh, Mr. Collins, I'm glad to see that you're still awake! Now, let's get to breakfast, hmm? You need to keep your strength up so you don't catch a cold like the head nurse!"

All of the words were spoken almost like she was on a time limit, and Castiel gave her a blank stare as he considered what she'd said. He had heard the coughing and the woman's voice, and wondered why Landel himself wasn't making the announcement. Had he been distracted by something, perhaps? Had someone gotten too close to escaping and drawn his attention? But all he could do was speculate.

"One second," he said awkwardly as he moved to the closet in search of that coat that he'd been using as a substitute for his regular one.

But then the nurse cut in. "Oh, you won't be needing that! We aren't going outside today." She moved over to grab his arm and pull him toward the door, but Castiel yanked away as soon as he could; only once he was free did he reluctantly agree to leave the room with his arms bare.

They made it to the cafeteria without incident, and once again he was forced to deal with the problem of food. He had no idea what would be appetizing to him, and in the end chose to wait for lunch. It was possible hamburgers would be served again. But with no Sam or Dean in sight, Castiel was left to sit on his own and wait. There was one familiar face (the young, white-haired boy from the day before), and yet Castiel wasn't sure that it would be wise to approach him. He doubted he had been good company, so the chances of that stranger wanting to speak with him again were low.

It was difficult for him to be patient, and yet he did his best to wait.

[Free!]

[diamondstorm]

[=DDD]

The night had moved in a blur. Something to nothing, and then all that remained. She had checked, and made sure that the ones on the bulletin were correct--yet since when had anyone ever lied about ones being missing? Yukari, Jiraiya, and Nataku. All gone. And then there was nothing left. Her last remaining links to this place gone within a twelve hour period. It was almost ironic, in its simplicity--it had taken her a long time to create those bonds, but it was almost effortless to whisk them away.

Her mind would return to the last time she saw Nataku; the boy's downtrodden face showing the hundreds of years he had claimed. He had wanted to bring this place down, brick by brick, and he had ended up vanishing like the others. And she, too? Would she simply vanish, with no one's memory to know that she had passed through these walls, and did her best to help in the ways she could? She did not know, and it wasn't like her to wonder so abstractly. She was still here, she still remained, and Beelzemon was still here as well. There was still the matter of his memory, and that remained her responsibility to check on. She would contact Nunnally, then; see if the girl spoke to her brother.

It was a simple task, but it allowed her to shift forward, to move through the motions of the morning as if she hadn't times over. The bulletin was glanced at, food given was taken, and she allowed the nurses to point her to a spot with a murmur of making new friends. She would have rolled her eyes, if she had the energy. Instead she seated herself across from the man quietly, then nodded to him in greeting.

[feartehreaper.livejournal.com]

Groggy and fighting off the familiar sense of morning confusion, Haseo took waking up at a very gradual pace this time. After a few moments of realizing he was in bed again, he slowly rolled over and began pushing himself up from the protection of the pillow and coverings. He didn't get it- why couldn't he remember what had happened last night? First, he'd met up with Endrance, and then...

... Seriously?!

He sat up much faster as it finally came back to him, anger rapidly flaring up in what felt like a literal flash of fire inside him. They'd barely even managed to make it out of the patient room blocks! Why the hell had morning come so damn early?!

The look of complete hatred he aimed at the nurse who came to fetch him for breakfast was enough to give her pause, but somehow - somehow - the teen managed to hold his tongue long enough to get ready to go as she so dearly wanted. He knew that if he were to say anything, it would most likely come out as an explosion, and regardless of how little he seemed to ever be able to accomplish, anything was better than the nothing likely to come out of being sedated all day or confined to his room. He'd been inside Landel's for something like ten days now... he knew that it was useless to try anything while the lights remained on.

He remained silent as he secured a tray of 'food' and sat down at an empty place in the cafeteria, considering it fortunate that the nurse seemed too busy at the moment to attempt 'introducing' him to someone else. He didn't seem particularly interested in what he'd gotten though... not even the fruit like he normally might have been. Instead, he flipped through the rough notes he'd taken down in his journal over the time he'd been trapped in agitation, trying to ignore the faint throbbing behind his eyes that likely indicated the beginning of a headache.

[ Free! ]

[heraldric.livejournal.com]

That had barely lasted past the time it had taken him to make the weapon, which he supposed made him lucky that he'd even managed to complete it. Thankfully, it hadn't been too complicated a weapon and he felt slightly better than morning than he had mornings prior when the task had been more difficult. That didn't stop him from curling into a ball under the covers when his nurse came to get him, however, and he muttered faint protests as she near bodily dragged him out from under them to lead him off to breakfast.

After checking in at the bulletin (and goodness, people were far too worried about the well-being of someone who barely left his room at night these days) the young mage went through the breakfast line as slowly as his nurse would allow. For his troubles, he ended up with plenty of food and a couple glasses of orange juice.

A familiar head of silver hair had him making a beeline for that table despite his nurse's opinion that he should be meeting with new people. He took a seat and smiled tiredly despite the fact that Haseo didn't look all that cheerful himself. "Morning."

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

Mele woke up, fumbled under the covers for the knife, then swung her legs to the floor, chucking the knife onto her clothes in the closet and grabbing a pen from her desk.

She was standing in front of the door, tapping her foot when the nurse opened the door. "I'm going to look at the bulletin." She breezed past the nurse, tuning out whatever objections the nurse might have made, walking quickly—speeding up when it felt like the nurse was nearing.

At the bulletin, she scribbled on it before the nurse could stop her, and headed into the cafeteria without being prompted. There, she stopped, looking over the room.

A hand on her shoulder announced the nurse, who pulled, not gently, at Mele, saying something all the while—Mele didn't know what, she wasn't paying attention. Then both the nurse's hands landed on her shoulder, pushing Mele down into a seat with a faint thump. "Behave," the nurse said irritably. "Or else."

Or else what? Mele would have replied, but she already knew what they could do. It was the reason she had needed to get to the bulletin this morning before the nurse could stop her. The nurse moved away before Mele could think of something else to say, and returned shortly with a tray of food, which landed before Mele with a clack that sounded faintly of disapproval. Mele would have said something nasty after the nurse's back, but—Or else.—the nurse wasn't worth her time, anyway. Mele looked at the tray and then picked up the fork instead, tapping it against the table in frustration.

[scarefaux]

[Why hello there, little lady~]

"I've got to say that you don't look very well at all today," the Scarecrow observed as he took the seat opposite of Mele. Perhaps the night hadn't gone well for her- when he thought about it, it hadn't gone so well for him either, but at least he'd not been stricken blind without warning. The former strawman had hoped to spot Scar in the cafeteria and see if his sight had returned; he'd started writing a note for the lion on the bulletin board, only the realize halfway through that he'd not be able to see it in the first place.

Judging by the look Mele had given her nurse not a minute before, she was not in the mood to deal with the staff. And who could blame her? They were all being held captive in an asylum by an undoubtedly wicked wizard, and some were tortured nightly for reasons unknown. It had happened to Scar, as well as the Scarecrow himself. He hoped the same hadn't befallen Mele.

"You're okay, aren't ya?" he asked, looking her over a second time, leaning over the table to check around her head for any new wounds or bandaging.

[nobleman]

When the first thought upon waking up was in regards to a friend's parent having possibly been taken for experimentation, Guy found it hard to believe that the day was going to be a good one. Nonetheless, he slid out of bed and took in the head nurse's announcement while still half-asleep. Pairing that up with the strange message that had come through those same speakers before night ended, and Guy really didn't want to know what was going on behind the scenes.

Honestly, he wanted to assume that Claude was overreacting. Guy didn't necessarily think that leaving a gun behind meant that Ronixis had been taken for experimentation, but he didn't think it was his place to say so. It was the matter of a father and son, after all. If anyone was going to know how Ronixis would behave, it would have to be Claude.

And yet still, Guy could only hope that Claude was wrong this time. He had only just healed from his own sleep study, so for Ronixis to be taken right after -- well, Guy didn't doubt that Landel was that cruel, and yet he was crossing his fingers that this time, he hadn't been.

Chances were that Claude was going to search for the man himself, and so Guy pushed any ideas of bulletin notes from his mind. He'd taken on that responsibility while Claude had been blind, but now that he had his sight back (thanks to Natalia), he needed to make sure to give his friend proper space.

For the moment, Guy focused on getting his new sword stored in a safe place (the closet seemed just as good a hiding spot as any). His nurse turned up soon after, and so the swordsman left Okita to sleep for a bit longer as he was led to the cafeteria. He wasn't even given the chance to worry about Natalia, however, since he spotted the girl right as he entered the room, and she was working on a meal and looking much better than she had last night. Claude had already found her, and so Guy chose to leave the two alone for the moment. Both seemed to be doing well, relatively speaking.

And so, with a plate of food in hand (two of the 'pigs in blankets' and some eggs on the side), Guy found an empty seat and started on his breakfast.

[For Anise.]

[gald_digger]

A sharp pain in her shoulder was what awakened Anise that morning. With a groan, the girl rolled over to her left side, reaching an arm over her right shoulder. Her fingers found thick bandages wound around the shoulder and down the upper arm, covering the long, deep cuts of a nurse's scalpels. Holding her right hand in front of her face to see, Anise noticed the large bandage from yesterday had been replaced with a smaller one at the bottom of her palm, and the redness that previously surrounded it had faded.

Pulling herself out of bed was more of an ordeal than it normally was this morning - on top of her injuries, Anise felt pretty worn out. She'd used two artes last night, fought with a monster, and had lost a bit of blood. All things considered, she was lucky she wasn't in worse shape.

The girl managed to muster up some energy, however, and before long she had all her nightshift gear put away and her hair fixed back up into its usual pigtails. As if on cue, her nurse entered just as she finished getting ready, and it was off to the Cafeteria for breakfast. The smell of good food helped Anise feel a little more energetic, and the sight of one of her friends sitting alone made her even more so.

Lucky her! She'd told Guy yesterday that she wanted to talk to him, and here she already had the perfect chance to approach him. Anise quickly prepared herself a tray - filled with a little bit of everything, plus a glass of milk - and made her way over to his table. She was a little too tired to try and sneak up on him today, but she still had more than enough energy to greet him with a big, bright smile when she reached the seat across from his.

"'Morning! Mind if I join you?"

[toxicspiderman]

Tuesday. Shit. This jived with the number of times he could remember waking up convinced that a nation of lobstermen with perfect pitch and professional choreography needed him to return to the sleep. In order to take a statistics exam. The one he'd skipped sophomore year of high school since it could not, statistically speaking, affect his A. And the month's worth of detention for being a wiseass were a small price to pay for the satisfaction of being right.

The voice -- not the bastard himself, droned on. Landel's flacks wouldn't last two minutes in a real consumer economy. Job security via totalitarianism. If the boss didn't feed them to the zombies, which was not the metaphorical bullshit it would be anywhere else. This was the point when Sangamon noticed he was mumbling every third word or so of this non-revelation out loud. He wiped the fossilized saliva from his cheek. A quick artificially-enhanced sniff test proclaimed him suitable for public cons-- no, appearances. He staggered out into the hall, swerving around his assigned handler.

By the time he reached the Sun Room, he had woken up enough to realize two things. One, he hadn't left his room to piss in over 24 hours. Two, he hadn't eaten over that same interval. His whole body (once he'd taken care of point #1) felt like the aftermath of a nature weekend. Hungry for something that had been processed well beyond the theoretical maximum allowed by Sangamon's Principle, but if he wasn't counting, who was. What the fuck. If the bastards wanted him dead it wouldn't be by toxic tater tot.

[Matt]

[gamingsostfu.livejournal.com]

Finally.

That was all that ran through Matt's head as he blinked up at the ceiling, opting to lay there a few moments longer before attempting to get up. Everything hurt - his back, his neck, his chest, his legs... His entire body was sore as hell, and his head throbbed and ached like nothing he'd ever felt before. The pain he felt as soon as he tried to sit up had nothing on a hangover; he was weak, his body drained of any and all energy. The leeches were gone from his entire body, he found as his hands roamed his bare skin; underneath his clothes, he found several thick bandages - one on his chest, one of his stomach, and one on each leg. There was one of his neck as well, across the right side.

The nurse approached him slowly, cautiously. "My, my, Marcus! You really worked yourself up in your sleep, I see!"

He just glared at her as he shoved himself to his feet, determined, at first, to walk to the cafeteria on his own power. That was a bad idea; this became apparent as soon as he took a step on his own and his legs gave out from under him. The nurse sharply though cheerfully grasped his arm, tugging him back up and pulling him slowly out the door. "Oh my... It would seem you'll need help moving after all. Those are some nasty cuts, and you look a little pale." She smiled brightly as she led him down the hallway; Matt frowned, remaining silent - lest he be tackled and drugged again for biting the loony bitch's head off.

I need to find Mello and Javert, he thought, shaking his head. Mostly Mello, though; he barely knew Javert, though Matt was confident he could take care of himself. Mello, though...

Upon reaching the food counter, the brunet allowed the nurse to stack food onto his tray; making faces at it as they walked along, his frown just deepened when he realized that she was leading him over to an already occupied table. Shooting her a glare as she sat him down across from some guy he didn't recognize, Matt wondered, Seriously? Is she fucking serious?

Of course, conversation couldn't have been any worse than what he'd endured the night before, so Matt decided that he would just have to suck it up. After all, at least he was still breathing... right?

He nodded once to the other man as the woman set off for the door. "'sup." That's it; deep breaths, play it cool, Matty.

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

Another day. England was truly beginning to despise waking up to the clinical white walls and sub-standard bed (had they never heard of IKEA?). He hadn't thought that it was possibly to despise it all more, but every new day brought that little bit more gloom to the proceedings. Especially since the nurses insisted on treating him like an incompetent child instead of a ration adult. Sometimes he cursed looking as young as he did. Early twenties, like a student. At least France and Prussia and hell, even Germany who was over a thousand years younger than him, all managed to look older.

And he would kill for a proper suit or even a pair of jeans.

Breakfast was typically American once again, and with no tea. Another strike against the place and something else to be taken out of the Head Doctor's hide when it finally came time to give him a slow and painful death. He'd even share the honour between them. he was sure that between all the nations here, they could come up with something suitably sadistic.

He stared blankly down at his plate for a few moments before taking a bite. Not terrible, but nothing exception either. All mass produced for a hospital population.

[For Germany!]

[neuepolitik.livejournal.com]

The night had ended far too quickly. Ludwig hadn't managed to get out of his hallway, and even worse, he hadn't been able to convince Austria that he was who he claimed to be. That thought weighed heavily on Ludwig's shoulders, and yet he found himself unable to come up with a plan of attack. He'd never thought that he'd need to convince Austria, one of the primary authority figures of his life, that they knew each other. It just didn't work that way!

While Ludwig had made notes of what happened on the intercom, his heart wasn't in it. Just mechanical motions of his hands, while his mind worked on this problem. There was clearly tension, as always, between Austria and Prussia. Therefore, going to his older sibling was absolutely not an option. The question then arose of who he could approach for advice- and his list of options was incredibly short. Almost all of the nations here either disliked him or were too difficult to understand. Or he wouldn't care to show a weakness toward them.

In the end, he could only decide on one person. That was why Ludwig strode right up to England's table, pausing just long enough to speak before sitting down. "This seat isn't taken." It wasn't really a question, nor was Ludwig going to waste time with pleasantries. Of all the people here, Arthur was the one most likely to be able to help him.

...and wasn't that a said state of affairs? "I need your advice. It's important."

[lawful_perfect]

...

Was that cold that had afflicted the Head Lunatic and then von Karma himself still going around?! Now it seemed that one of the nurses had it, too, if the abrupt hacking over the intercom was any indication. The discordant sound was followed up by even less pleasant news for the prosecutor: the prospect of "therapy" and yet another inferior breakfast. No, the only drink that von Karma would have enjoyed this morning was the very same one that this blasted Institute kept denying him. Just why did they refuse his perfectly reasonable suggestion to serve acceptable tea, anyway?

On his way to the cafeteria, von Karma paused at the bulletin board in the Sun Room to leave three separate notes, taking care to spread them as far apart as possible from each other. Then he entered the dining area and looked around for signs of the three young women to whom he had addressed the messages.

Not only were none of them present, but the only one von Karma recognized -- vaguely -- was a man whom von Karma had encountered in the Sun Room six days ago. Hmm, odd. At the rate that wounds typically healed here in the Institute, the man should have been fully recovered by now. But he still had that bandage covering the left side of his face. ...No matter. It was none of von Karma's concern.

Without giving the man another thought, von Karma went about the business of selecting tolerable food items from the serving counter. Unsurprisingly, his options were few. He took a glass of water, some fruit and one of these "pigs in blankets." Ignoring his nurse's protests about "wasting food," von Karma dumped the greasy excuses for sausages in the trash to keep only the pancake.

Then, as he did every meal shift, he chose an empty seat at the corner of one of the tables, as far away from other patients currently in the cafeteria as possible. While he picked at his food, he pondered over the idea of seeing his "therapist" Suresh again. Oh yes. After what he had discovered last night, he had plenty to discuss with the charlatan.

[Free as a jailbird! And yes, I know I hadn't planned on posting him to breakfast, but... Woohoo! Five-day weekend breakfast shift! \o/]

[spandexorgtfo.livejournal.com]

[I've ALWAYS wanted to thread with him...do you mind?]

Kratos was almost relieved when he woke up. His battle with the machine-man...he knew that if that fight had gone on any longer, he would seriously run the risk of losing limb and life, in that order. And Rita was safe. While last night wasn't about to make them "close", he'd considered her a responsibility, and he had managed to keep her from death or maiming. That was a boost of some sort.

Just then, the radio announcement reminded him of what he had to look forward to today: another session with Daedalus. The young man was certainly intelligent and attentive, but he could presumably find conversation like that anywhere; he didn't need therapy to achieve it. It would be another shift spent on facades. Excellent.

In any case, time to eat breakfast - regain energy, basically. The nurse of course was still fawning over him and his injured arm, and graciously got him a plate of what she felt was appropriate for an apparent invalid. Kratos accepted the plate with a faint 'thank you' and went to go find a table.

There were still few patients in the cafeteria, and normally he would seek out the comfort of some far-off seat and enjoy the quiet, but the nurse still had her eye on him (and probably would for the rest of the shift, given his behavior yesterday), so he picked the maturest-looking person he could find and prayed that they would be understanding.

"Good morning."

[F16]

[fourstonewalls]

Lana opened her eyes again; the woman coughing this time was not her. She ran both hands over her face, and then sat up gingerly, waiting to see if the world would right itself or not before standing. It did; everything seemed normal -- or at least the fractured version of reality that she'd come to expect here.

The other woman in the room was new; her previous two roommates had never been more than a splash of hair across a pillow, but it looked like that was finally going to change.

She pulled open her drawer and extracted a clean change of clothing. She began to turn away to give the other woman the semblance of privacy until they were both composed enough for introductions, when the possibility that the other woman was a new arrival occurred to her. She compromised, and faced the door; she should be able to spot any mistaken retribution early enough to at least attempt an explanation, and the nurses would be arriving any moment to take the blame.

[Ilia]

[F16]

[avengingfists.livejournal.com]

Ilia woke with a gasp, jerking a bit from the shock then clutched at her leg, already stitched and bandaged from the fight with the thing from last night. She might have thought running around all night long would have left her tired and weak, but other than the pain from the wound she felt no real fatigue. Not like Anise had after evoking all those artes last night, at least.

Adjusting to the burning sensation, Ilia turned and noticed her roommate was up today. Already changing her clothing... The supplies! Ilia stood up quickly, wincing against the pain, and stuffed her hands in her pockets. Aha! It was wonderful to know the night hadn't been in vain. But at what price? Anise had been hurt and drained of power, and Ilia herself had also taken damage. Well, at least they could properly treat their wounds with what items they'd found.

Feeling only slightly shaky, Ilia moved to follow her roommates' example and changed clothes, using the opportunity to stash away packets of burn cream, bandages and all other spoils into the very back of her desk drawer. Half-changed, Ilia glanced over at the brunette and gave her a little smile.

"Nice to see you're up and about today. Feeling better?" She pulled on a fresh t-shirt. Who would have thought just changing her clothes would make the morning already just a little better? She wasn't looking forward to changing her pajama pants, though. "I'm Ilia, by the way. Ilia Silvestri. I guess we're going to be roommates now, huh?"

[pullstrung.livejournal.com]

((From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/981503.html?thread=72776703#t72776703).))

Walking down the hallway, Woody kept close to the woman as he his eyes darted nervously from the walls, to the floor, and then to the her back. Moving around in plain sight like this was strange enough, but by now he'd taken in the drab, gray clothes he was wearing and the creepy smiling face plastered to his chest.

Not only that, but the woman who was leading him through the building was actually dressed up a lot like a nurse. Maybe that explained why she was talking like he was sick a few minutes ago, but it sure didn't shed any light on what he was doing here, much less looking like...well, like this.

She'd been right about one thing, though, and Woody realized with a mixture of apprehension and relief that there were other people dressed like him being led in the same direction -- to a cafeteria, actually, which was filled with the kinds of smells Woody recognized from Saturday mornings. But the familiarity wasn't enough to make him feel any better, much less want to grab a tray of food for himself (yeah, well, toys don't need to eat, he wanted to say, though he managed to bite back the impulse).

Instead, Woody just tried to tell her he wasn't hungry, but it didn't matter. Before he could even protest, the nurse threw together a tray with all kinds of different foods and led him over to a table. "Just take your time eating," she told him with a smile. "I'm sure you'll be joined by someone shortly." And with that, she was gone, having hurried off to the other side of the room to help out with something else.

Glancing around, he immediately started looking for an opening he could take in case he decided he needed to escape. But with burly men standing guard along with the other nurses, he wasn't sure it'd be so easy when he was as big as they were. Still, it was at the back of his mind as he stared around at the other people dressed like him, wondering if maybe one of them was a friend. But how would he even tell if they were in a different body, too?

[For Rita!]

[bodhiandspirit.livejournal.com]

"Go away."

"Don't be like that, Paige. If you don't get up, you could miss breakfast! It's the most important meal of the day, you know."

Rita's next reply was an unintelligible murmur, muffled as she rolled over with her face buried in her pillow and her blanket tangled around her limbs. She felt positively exhausted this morning. Was it because she had used her magic multiple times last night? Her spells seemed to drain her own energy as she used them... but weren't they supposed to be powered by mana? There was no reason for the strain on her own body to be so great, unless...

... Well, now that she was thinking this hard, she probably wasn't going to fall back asleep. Finally, the mage sat up on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes.

The nurse, who was just about ready to give up and leave, turned back to face her, eyes lit up with eagerness. "Oh, I knew you'd come around! Good, now let's go to breakfast, shall we?" There wasn't much room for protest, and before she knew it, she was being led to the Cafeteria.

The persistent nurse saw to it that she had a tray full of food, and just to annoy her even more (or so Rita assumed) she set about the unnecessary task of finding company for her. "Oh! Mr. Wheeler here is new and could use someone to show him the ropes. It won't hurt to try and make a new friend, will it?" Before Rita could get a word in about how much she didn't want to make friends with anyone she picked out for her, the nurse set her tray down across from a brown-haired man. With a hand on Rita's shoulder, she gently ushered her into the chair. When she finally left, Rita shot the woman a scowl before looking to the man across from her.

He looked lost, as she expected from a new guy. Rita's appraising stare didn't linger for long, however, as she soon made a sound like a light snort and turned to take some experimental bites of her food. She resented the nurse's obnoxious efforts to make her meet people, and as such, she refused to be a part of it. She sure as hell didn't want the staff to choose her friends, and maybe the other guy felt the same. Even though it looked awkward and rude for her to ignore her company even after making eye contact, Rita was too stubborn to be concerned about that.

[willing-sheath.livejournal.com]

[from here (”http://community.livejournal.com/damned/981503.html?thread=72777471#t72777471”)]

It felt awkward moving in this clothing. Tomoe was barely out of the room she’d woken in and already felt exposed for the cut of the pants, not to mention the short sleeves of the odd top. She had never felt so naked while still fully clothed in her life. She observed the halls the nurse lead her through—all as foreign as the first room had been, all the other people they passed wearing the same sort of clothing and all equally odd to her.

The smell coming from the cafeteria was far from inviting. Her stomach was already in knots from the stress of waking up in the strange room and even more from the strange circumstances—and her seeming impossible memories. Impossible. The word kept ringing through her mind even as she receded further and further into herself. She had died. The memories were crystal clear. She couldn’t have imagined that fate no matter how she tried, she never would have pieced that result together on her own. But even so… the dead did not come back to life. And at the moment she was very much alive.

The further she walked the more that fact weighed on her, and as much as she hated herself for even considering it… could it be possible… that her life was a delusion? What was the more real possibility? That she had died inside the Forest of Barriers and was suddenly very much alive again, or that she was simply mad? Her stomach twisted again, knowing the answer anyone else would have given based on the question. But to believe that… she would have to believe that the people she loved were all... figments created by this… ‘Arisugawa Miyuki’…

She tensed up as the nurse touched her shoulder upon entering the cafeteria itself, hissing 'don't touch me' under her breath. The nurse seemed to ignore it and cheerfully ushered her further into the room with a few more words that Tomoe didn’t pay further attention to before the nurse wandered away a few steps, likely to leave Tomoe to her own devices.

Tomoe made no move toward the line, even if the smell in the room wasn’t almost nauseating to her she wasn’t hungry and honestly didn’t know when she would be. She barely glanced about before she started to moved, keeping her eyes down and seeking out a more secluded corner so that she might try to think and make sense of any of it—and even then that didn’t begin to touch on what it was going to take to come to terms with it once she did.

[Kenshin and Yuffie]

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

I'm going to pretend that never happened, Yuffie thought, vehemently. … After I've given Cloud what-for.

How embarrassing! For the world's greatest ninja to be caught napping on the job; for the world's greatest ninja to not wake up when two totally unsubtle guys barge into her room, flashlights blazing; for the world's greatest ninja to get tipped onto the floor, mattress and all, like some dumb kid…

And if all that wasn't bad enough (which it was), Yuffie had a sinking feeling that her cheek was now sporting a couple of bruises, as well as the scar. What kind of impression was that gonna give? She remembered Dean, looking beat up practically every time she saw him. It didn't make him look cool; it made him look like he'd come the worst off in a fight. And now… And now, thanks to Cloud, terminal pain in the ass, she looked doubly dumb.

Yuffie grabbed up a couple of fruit, with a small portion of scrambled eggs on the side. She was too busy fuming to be anything for than just a little peckish, and she'd have skipped breakfast entirely if Plucky hadn't warbled and nagged.

"Why don't you sit with Miss Arisugawa, dear," Plucky said. It wasn't a suggestion. "She's new, and poor thing—doesn't she look lonely?"

'Miss Arisugawa' was a small woman, with long black hair and a closed-off posture. Lonely wasn't exactly the word Yuffie would've used, but even if it was the right one, why should she care? It wasn't her business to go cheering up random strangers. All the same, and despite her protests, she quickly found herself being swept off in that direction, her tray in one hand and notebook in the other.

"I—"

"Good morning, dear," Plucky bustled cheerfully, smiling. "I'll just leave Hanna with you, shall I? She can help you settle in."

Damage done, the nurse left, leaving Yuffie to stare after her back. W-What… Since when had anybody been able to talk over her? Plucky was managing it more and more these days; it was graduating from plain old annoying to hella disconcerting. "Geez, these nurses," Yuffie sighed, turning back to face 'Arisugawa'. "So, uh. Hanna's not my name—it's Yuffie. And I can leave you alone, if you want." She shot an over-the-shoulder glance at her nurse's still-retreating back. "She might whinge about it, but whatever."

[see-my-back.livejournal.com]

When Sakura woke the next morning, having somehow slept through the entire evening, she was already in a foul mood. Twice now it'd happened and it had her worried. She knew well enough the whisperings that people who slept through the days or nights were often the next to be sent home. First things first though, she had the nurse take her to the ladies room so she could make sure no one had decided to use her forehead as a notepad.

Still, she hated the idea that this place could just take her out of commission whenever they wanted. She might not have had plans, but that didn't mean she didn't want to at least TRY to get some things done!

Her nurse seemed to be getting agitated by all the stops, but Sakura insisted on looking through the bulletin before heading to breakfast, just in case there was anything important or if her team had missed her or if there'd been any important announcements, but it looked like not many people were up yet. She followed the nurse into the cafeteria and picked a few items for breakfast, carting her notebook along with her. Hopefully today would be more productive.

[Free!]

[laguz-decoy.livejournal.com]

It had been another night of accomplishing nothing for Ranulf. He'd intended to explore the outer corridors of the Institute but, instead, had fallen asleep to the sounds of people scuffling through the hallways. With his advanced hearing, Ranulf could make out what they were saying most of the time... shushed whispers and fearful mutterings. He had closed his eyes for just a moment and had apparently fallen under whichever spell the "Head Doctor" had put on this place... the next thing he knew, Nurse Flo was leading him to the mess hall for breakfast.

The laguz loaded his plate with "scrambled" eggs (he particularly liked them in this form) and "pigs in a blanket", although the meat smelled nothing like pork. After surveying the mess hall and finding nobody he knew, Ranulf was directed by his nurse to take a seat across from a young beorc woman. Noticing the leaflet of papers, he assumed she was the type of person that liked to collect information for future reference, much like the tasks he'd carry out for King Caineghis. Perhaps she knew more about this place than others. Once Flo had left, he decided to attempt conversation.

"Well, it seems that we're being subjected to socialize." he said, letting out a small chuckle. "My name is Ranulf, what's yours?"

[noifsandsorbubs.livejournal.com]

Logan's first thought, when his eyes registered the ceiling above him, was an unpronounceable mélange of curses. His second thought was that he really needed a watch, or something, because that had to have been a ten-minute night.

He gave it near-serious consideration as he followed the nurse down the hall: maybe they had stopwatches or something where they kept all the sports crap, and if so, then it'd be pretty easy to get down there at night - and that was where he shut down that train of thought. It didn't matter that nothing had worked out so far or that he'd barely made it out of his room last night; the basement was the only goal that mattered. Everything else was a distraction.

Once he'd loaded up his tray, he scanned the room for an overly talkative teenager. So far there was nobody he recognized, but it was about time he found out what Pete was up to - he had to be up to something useful as opposed to just dropping in on people to crack jokes and be annoying, if there was any justice in the universe - so he took an empty seat with a good view of the door and waited.

[justthedealer.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/981503.html?view=72780031#t72780031)]

A mental institution. Perhaps it was fitting. He couldn't blame it on his teammates - no, even if he'd fouled up back in Limbo, they wouldn't send him to an asylum for it, much less one that didn't seem qualified to deal with mutant patients. Something else was going on here and he was just going to have to find out what it was. He hadn't yet discounted the possibility of it being a very elaborate dream, influenced perhaps by some outside source. If that was the case, whoever was responsible hadn't done a very good job of limiting his free thinking. But then he had always been a rather lucid dreamer.

The nurse led Remy through a buffet style breakfast line, and he found himself rather tempted by the meal despite himself. It certainly smelled delicious. He'd give it a closer inspection once he reached the table, but for now he loaded it up with a little bit of everything.

It was as he was turning back toward the crowd to actually find a seat that he noticed a rather familiar figure, easy to pick out of the crowd due to his stature, or lack of. If there was any better proof that he hadn't been sent here for his own behavior by his peers, it was that Wolverine was there as well. Managing to shake his nurse at last, the Cajun took a seat across from Logan, peering at him from over his sunglasses. "Can't say much for th'company I been left wit'."

[full-score.livejournal.com]

The night ended at the worst possible moment, but there was nothing for Claude to do except hastily hide his things before the nurse came to get him. But even as he threw the covers off of himself and moved to put the weapons away, his mind was wandering elsewhere. He was so preoccupied that he couldn't even properly savor being able to move around by himself without needing anyone's help.

Dad... Claude couldn't imagine him just leaving his phase gun in his room, even if he didn't plan on using it. Maybe he was quick to assume the worst, but after everything that had happened the last few days, he knew that he'd just be fooling himself by assuring himself that everything was okay. After all, he already knew first-hand that his father wasn't the invincible, larger-than-life figure others saw him as. If Landel decided he was ready to experiment on him, or brainwash him for good, then there was nothing he, or Claude, could do to stop it.

But Claude knew he couldn't just roll over and mourn over something that may or may not have happened, either. As soon as the last of his things were hidden, the nurse appeared and escorted him to the cafeteria like always. She made some sort of comment about it being nice to see his eyes had cleared up, to which Claude only nodded. He had a lot on his mind, though it was true that the return of his sight would make dealing with things a lot easier than they would have otherwise. For that, at least, he was immensely grateful, and he intended to take full advantage of it. For the first time in two days, Claude wrote a bulletin post and slapped it onto the board before hurrying off to the cafeteria.

Of course, he hadn't forgotten the person who'd helped him recover. After grabbing a tray of food (though less because he was hungry, and more because he didn't want the nurse to put one together for him), Claude scanned the room for Natalia. Since it was still early in the shift, it didn't take long for him to spot her sitting alone. It was encouraging to see she was eating, at least, but he wanted to make sure how she was feeling. He was worried about her, and, at the very least, it gave him something he could do.

Tray in hand, he approached her table with a concerned expression, taking in her features a little better now that he had a chance to study her more. "Good morning," he greeted. "Do you mind if I join you?"

[nobleobliged.livejournal.com]

Eating too quickly, Natalia knew, would only inconvenience her in a different way. Though still satisfying (good, really, much to her continued disappointment), the food was hardly so delectable, nor she so hungry, as to completely involved her in it. As such, she kept an eye on the entrance to the cafeteria, both continuing to seek the familiar and looking with curiosity at those she did not know nor recognize. From where did they come, what world, what time? What were their troubles, their dreams?

Some faces she missed entirely, either from a number of patients entering in a near crowd with their nurses, or from losing herself in thought. Still, she saw Claude, and though kept from staring at him as he stood on line, was quite pleased to see him head toward her once with a tray.

"Good morning," she returned, smiling all the brighter because of the worry she could read on his face (in his eyes, how wonderful). "Not at all, please do."

By now, she had finished most of the eggs, and currently set aside her fork, speared with crispy potato, to direct her attention better at Claude. She would, of course, continue to eat, but not immediately. Following mouth-cleansing sip of juice, she pressed her napkin to her mouth, then refolded it over her lap. Even after what she had eaten, the feeling of being weighted down had yet to leave, a sluggishness she strove to ignore and prevent from showing. The worst of it: the pressure reached into her head, promising a headache, and she wasn't at all sure how to avoid it. Especially while fighting continued weariness, not delegated to a single point or limb, but as all-enveloping as humidity. Though hardly an expert on eyes, Natalia could little help but stare into his, as if doing so might enable her to judge their help. Questions, so many questions!

"Are they serving you well, still? Did you and Guy run into any trouble?"

Questions, so many questions! Asking, of course, served another purpose: that of delaying his own query, and her inevitable white lie.

[composers-proxy.livejournal.com]

At least morning meant he was free of his obligation to lead the pink girl around like he was some kind of prisoner. As if they weren't all already. He pushed himself out of bed and stashed his stuff in the best not-obvious places he could find, then let his headphones rest around his neck. Usually he wore them 24/7 or at least whenever he was awake, but here they didn't even sleep and it was going to start giving him a headache(and probably wear out his batteries) if he didn't give it a rest now and again.

There was that familiar hum of static he'd come to know over the last week or so he'd been here. Annoying yes, but at least it meant he hadn't completely lost touch with his Psych abilities. He picked up a few pigs in blankets - almost as good as pancakes - not bad at least, and took some milk since coffee seemed to be non-existent in this place.

No one he really knew was up and about yet, so he sat by himself, picking at the food on his tray.

[Kairi!]

[kingdomless.livejournal.com]

When Kairi awoke, she was feeling ... well rested. Instantly suspicion filled the girl - she couldn't remember going out last night ... had she actually slept through the entire night? Looking over her body as she jumped up from the white bed, she knew she didn't feel any different. Every toe was there, every finger, every spot of skin lay unblemished and still in perfect condition as it had been the prior day.

Huh.

Looking up just as her nurse entered the room, Kairi smiled to the older woman and followed her out and down the hall and into the cafeteria with no word, her stomach already feeling like it was closing in on itself at the smell of food filling the air. Moving through the line, she picked up random odds and ends (mostly fruit. You could take the girl off of the island, but you couldn't take the island out of the girl.) before looking around the cafeteria for someone to sit with.

When she spotted Neku, the princess smiled and moved towards the other boy, standing at the side of the table he was sitting at. "Good morning, Neku!" she said happily, looking towards the empty chair across from him for a moment before she tilted her head slightly. "May I sit with you?"

[osreborn]

He entered the cafeteria as calmly as he'd awoke, eyes narrowed and shadowed by his furrowed brow as he carefully observed every step of his surroundings. He wasn't handcuffed. He didn't have a tracking collar. This hardly seemed a prison. Nauseating, that was for certain, but it was a kind of nauseating Norman could deal with for the short term. His mind was already focused on escape, eyes sliding from one end of the room to the other.

His time prior in an asylum had been blissfully brief. A night -- two perhaps (the details of that span of weeks were murky at best. Norman's sanity had been the same) before the Scriers had come to get him. He was confident this stay would be brief as well. As long as he could get started on his mechanizations, Norman could foresee an early discharge.

Smiling at the nurse, Norman patted her on the shoulder before turning to step away. "That's enough, thank you." His voice rang with insincerity, but it wasn't in him to care about that now. This nurse meant nothing to Norman. He wanted to find the important members of staff and worm his way into information. Or a transfer.

Cracking his knuckles, he bypassed the food line and went straight for an empty table between two others, somewhere someone may overhear something of us. That was more important to him right now. He didn't trust the food here. How easy it would be to drug or fill full of medication. Or something yet more dangerous.

[Riddler?]

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/981503.html?thread=72819199#t72819199)]

Eddie entered composed, his face smooth and lacking the lines of muted outrage from the minutes earlier. There was no use reasoning with the so-called nursing staff, and his strategy depended on easing the "authority" into a lulled sense of security. Wouldn't it be far more beneficial for his escape? As he was finally released from a vice-like grip and stern eyes, he wandered over to the food line. A quick peek informed him that there was hardly anything wrapped, except the individually boxed cartons of juice. He had only those items on his tray, his attempt to blend was only minimal. His carefully bored-seeming gaze wandered over the hall, seeking solace in some far off corner.

There was a man, virtually alone, unaccompanied by any morsel of food. Looked about late fifties, with a hairstyle to match. Edward's curiosity piqued, if only because of the sheer confidence oozing off this man. He was either completely delusional, or he knew something Eddie didn't. And that was simply far too enticing.

After a moment's swagger over, he watched Norman Osborn, noting the movements he made. Precise movements. Composed. Interesting.

"Why hello." Eddie sat nearby, merely a chair diagonal. "You don't seem like a madman." A beat followed. "Unless you're better than most at hiding it, which is plausible enough, I suppose."

He leaned forward, hands folded under his chin. Might as well make the proper connections here, just in case anyone had anything useful. Information came in the most unlikely -- or likely -- of packages after all. Wouldn't do any harm to try a little networking, here and there.

[lookitmemama.livejournal.com]

Asuka woke up feeling better. Not great, but better. With fatigue no longer an issue, she could better assess her attitude yesterday. She had let Shinji's problems affect her too much. Though she could see no alternative to her attack on Kaworu. He was an angel and it was her responsibility to destroy them, regardless of his disturbing appearance or wonder boy's feelings for him.

What a fool.

How could he just ignore what he was? Kaworu wasn't human, he was a monster. A monster that would kill them if they did not kill him first. And Shinji befriended him? The second child couldn't even comprehend such stupidity! It hurt just being associated with that dolt. All she could hope for was the next time she encountered the angel at night, Shinji would be absent. If not, well, he was in for some heartbreak when she crushed his pretty white head.

Her nurse collected Asuka not long after her thoughts had turned to plans to jump Kaworu in the night. Since she was no longer putting up a fight before breakfast, the nurse had no problem letting her dawdle around the bulletin board. She felt better now, having a purpose this morning. Unfortunately for her nurse, it meant she was in a mood to be plucky. "I can get breakfast myself, thank you. A woman should always hand-pick her food, especially when you only seem to serve grease..." How was a lady supposed to keep her figure when she was constantly tempted with pizza, sausage, waffles, and whatever sugary, fatty foods they could tuck away at the buffet? It was too cruel!

Her breakfast consisted of fruit, a few tater tots for carbohydrates, and a sausage roll for protein. She had no other choice! A well-balanced meal was the foundation to a well-balanced day. And hopefully that day would stay that way after she met with one of the history club members. The eva pilot had kicked herself for forgetting to ask what Kaneyoshi even looked like. She had come up with a excuse, but it had been rather thin. Well, she would just have to trudge onward and upward; no point in letting it get her down.

The cafeteria was rather empty this early, so it made it much easier to find him.... or her. The surprise at her appearance was easily masked, though, as Asuka sat down in front of her. Obviously, she had expected a man, but she was rather happy it was a woman. Women were underestimated in combat and it was refreshing to see another like herself endowed with formidable qualities of leadership.

"I'm happy to finally meet you. I'm Asuka Langley Soryu!" Her hair was automatically flipped behind her shoulders, an unconscious reflex of a woman trying to project a gentleness she didn't possess.

[notachick.livejournal.com]

Asuka Langley Soryu. Okita had heard her name bandied about on the board before Homura disappeared and had twice received her replies once he had and Okita had taken over. It wasn't a surprise this morning when she popped up again, but it was certainly welcome. With three of their key members suddenly missing, Okita was in a very tenuous position. And after last night's encounter and incident, he was even more keenly aware of it. The burning sensation had lessened, but his fingers were wrapped tightly in bandages to hide the ugly blueish marks the ghost's touch had left behind.

This morning was no better than any of the others, and in fact may have been worse for the lingering fever and taste of metallic blood on his tongue. But he couldn't allow that to show with so much at stake. So today, like all days, he checked the bulletin for messages, took a glass of water, some fruit and tater tots, refused the meat option, and then seated himself where he had told Asuka he would be.

And as she had said, she was very hard to miss: brilliant blue eyes, red hair, and a child of no more than Tetsu's age. He managed to keep his surprise in check if only due to the fatigue of the previous night. Instead, he smiled, noting how she flipped her hair over her shoulder as if trying to show off something, and motioned to the seat across from him. "It's a pleasure to meet you, too, Soryu-san. Please, sit. It will be a much more pleasant meeting over breakfast, don't you think?"

[whichwayagain.livejournal.com]

The past Sunday had been spectacularly bad for Mihai, more than enough to make up for the majority of the day he had slept through after. When his nurse made the comment, he instantly thought of a reply dealing with old age and it's toll--but didn't bother to speak the words. His brand of humor would be lost on the woman, and he wasn't in any mood to be a failed comic stuck on an awkward stage. His life had fallen apart enough, thank you universe.

Taking his breakfast to an empty corner, Mihai claimed a seat and watched the flow of patients trickling in. He'd need to catch up with Badou, and get back to finding his way out of this place. But with thoughts of Milena and Ian still fresh on his mind, it was hard to wish complete escape. Of course, he was being toyed with; Mihai knew it, and it pissed him off all the more each time he thought of it. But Landel couldn't have lined his shelves with sweeter candy. He'd just pay the consequences for going too far in the end. And until then? Mihai at least had a bittersweet dream.

[For Franziska]

[iwhipthefool.livejournal.com]

"Well, that was a bit unexpected. You slee--OW!"

Franziska replaced her journal under her arm and snatched the tray out of the woman's hands, glaring at her. Any word she had to say on Franziska's sleeping habits or the fact that she'd done nothing recently were cut off and forgotten, replaced with a warning about hitting the staff. Franziska hardly cared. If they were really going to sedate her for hitting them, they would have done it already. Besides, of all the patients here? She was the least likely to commit a true crime against another person.

Choosing a simple selection for breakfast, Franziska moved through the line of tables, looking over every prisoner as she walked. The room was filling fast, but not fast enough to warrant--

Oh, hell.

Franziska froze as her eyes fell upon her father. After his hearing, the last thing she wanted was to be seen by him. Dropping her tray across from the first person she came upon, Franziska sat without announcing herself and shot the man a quick glare. "Do not ask why. I'm sitting with you now."

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

Agh, what was it with night always ending right as they were getting somewhere? Zack sat up in his bed, tossing his covers off in one single motion as he grumbled to himself. Shaking his hair out and running a hand through it, he glared across the room at nothing in particular. Well, he was sort of looking at Locke, but he had nothing against his roommate.

No, this was Landel's fault. It looked like his right-hand-nurse was the one who was taking things over for the moment, but Zack didn't much care who it was. The point was that their progress kept being limited. Granted, the night hadn't been a total waste. He'd met someone who had been in this place before, which was interesting on its own, and had also gotten the gift of a pry bar from Tifa.

Speaking of which, where had it ended up? Standing up fully, Zack rushed over to the closet and let out a sigh of relief when he saw it had been hidden there. By who, it was hard to say, but thinking about that too hard would only give him a migraine. Chances were the materia was stored in his desk drawer, but he didn't get to check because that was when a nurse showed up to get him.

And so Zack got herded to the cafeteria once more, but not before dropping by the bulletin to see if any of his friends had left some sort of note. There was nothing, and so he decided to write one himself, since he still felt guilty for leaving Tifa on her own. Once that was done, he stepped into the cafeteria and got his breakfast before looking for any familiar faces.

But he found no one, not any friends from home or people he had met here. Clearly, that meant that he needed to meet more people! And so Zack started to look around for someone interesting who he could befriend.

[wantsyourzex.livejournal.com]

ZEX woke up feeling rather disoriented.

Not that it was easy to tell time here to begin with, what with each day's routine fairly set in stone, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was... missing time. That this wasn't the right morning, somehow, and no doubt that was just what they wanted. Routine wearing down independence and the drive to fight... and ZEX had to admit, he was not feeling terribly energetic this morning.

Well, perhaps things would brighten as the day went along, although odds were usually against that kind of thing. He definitely wouldn't mind some company, surely.

There, he remembered speaking with that particular spiky-haired human some time ago. He approached him, trying his best to mimic a human smile. "Hello again. Zack, wasn't it?"

[doneinthree]

Even after reaching the cafeteria, Kirk was struggling to ignore the number which had popped into his head the moment he'd opened his eyes to morning. Two digits, telling him exactly how many days he'd been trapped in this hellhole. Seriously, he wasn't going to let himself think about it today. Nor was he going to speculate pointlessly over the whereabouts of Chekov or the original Bones, nor was he going to worry about sci-fi television shows or any other absurd red herring they'd piped into his head. Seriously. Not today.

Still... some part of him had to be glad that he was still keeping track. It was better than the alternative, forgetting how long he'd been here except as a single, vague word. Days. Weeks. Months. Of course, if he did ever forget, maybe there was some truth to those old jokes about Vulcans, and he could ask Spock to tell him how long they'd been imprisoned, precise to the exact second. The thought made Kirk smile a little as he accepted his serving of pigs-in-blankets. Maybe he should try later, just for the hell of it.

Breakfast tray in hand, Kirk made his way to an empty table near the entrance of the cafeteria, where no doubt one of his crew would spot him. He'd post the usual check-in on the bulletin later, but for now, taking a break from the depressing experience of being a Landel's patient also meant taking a break from secret codes and carefulness. He was sick of being careful. He was sick of watching himself. He'd spent more time watching his words here than he had for the rest of his entire life combined.

So hopefully today's break lasted longer than last night's rest. Which... okay, Kirk didn't really have much hope of that, considering no one had forced him to wander out alone and get caught up with dangerous people. But it was still good to set challenges for himself, right?

[BONES]

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

That had been one of the most eye-opening nights about this hospital. The issue about the experimentation on the patients, that encounter in the hall. The experimentation especially struck a cord. He hadn't seen such an utter disregard for the trust a patient put in their doctor, to do the right thing, in years, and it was running rampant in this facility.

Before, he hadn't been all that sure about the creatures here. He had initially passed off that thing that attacked Jim nights ago, and the dead rat, off as something more like the native fauna, but now he just wasn't so sure. He was starting to suspect it wasn't so simple as native alien life, but something far less innocent.

The doctor slid into the chair across from Jim, checking over his meal as he did so. He wanted to check in on the others, but for now, he had to check up on Jim. It looked like it wasn't too bad a start. He hadn't showed up with any new gashes, any surprise injuries that he could see. His eyes flicked downwards. Pigs-in-blankets, and not too bad a serving, although privately McCoy thought Kirk could have taken more food.

"So, manage to get some actual rest, captain?"