Day 52: Library (2nd shift)

[longlivetheking]

Scar possibly couldn't have been more thrilled at the prospect of being escorted to the library. He had visited this particular room plenty of times to know that it was entirely useless and uninteresting - like most daytime activities, for that matter. Still, the nurse seemed rather convinced he'd like one of those silly books filled with papers and papers of those silly symbols he could suddenly understand for reasons that still puzzled him. These symbols didn't quite tell him anything interesting either; if he'd wanted a silly story he'd listen to that senile baboon back home. Instead, he felt like he was particularly mocked with this activity. He had been blinded last night, only to be dragged over to something that required his eyesight as soon as it had returned.

Not caring whether he was taking the situation way too personal, the former lion opted for glaring to the spine of a book - with words reading 'Lolita' (whatever that may have meant) along with a name he didn't care the slightest bit about - as if everything had been its fault. The truth was that Scar was this close to snapping, and though breakfast had been a welcome distraction it hardly did anything to defuse his frustration and anger.

Especially because he had no idea when something like that would happen again. Or what else they had been doing to his head...

[For Naraku!]

Comments

[itneverwas.livejournal.com]

So there were therapy sessions to go with the daytime charade? Interesting indeed, though Xemnas had not yet been granted the opportunity to acquire any information regarding these sessions. Instead, the nurse escorted him to the library.

As with the bookstore, there was no non-fiction material (the announcement would have hardly surprised the Nobody even if he had been capable of it). Nothing would provide the patients trapped within these walls any information about the world they were in, other than perhaps the pattern in the fictional books located upon the shelves that may be able to pin down their origin. As it was, the Superior lacked background information about all these unknown titles.

Still, he wandered between the shelves, occasionally pausing before continuing on his way again. He was not seeking anything in particular.

[Free!]

[witchoftruth]

[ hope you don't mind Erika taking up more of his time. >>; ]
One might have expected Erika to be excited about a library in this Institute, and had she not found something more interesting on the bulletin board, she would have happily spent the rest of her time reading and generally enjoying herself. However, things happened and things were found. And Erika had the good fortune of finding Xemnas wandering around, looking like he had nothing to do. Good!

"That was rather anticlimactic, wasn't it? I apologize for wasting your time like that, Xemnas-san," Erika sighed, looking almost genuinely remorseful that their underground basement adventures ended almost as soon as it started. One might have thought the pieces of paper she presented to him was to make up for the failed expedition, but in truth, Erika just wanted to go over the maps with someone and Xemnas happened to be there. As usual.

It was pretty obvious that she was holding what was supposed to be a map of the Institute, but Erika wasn't a moron and certainly wasn't going to trust something like this at face value. Regardless, a good portion of the map was accurate, judging by her own observations. Perhaps Xemnas could fill in a little more.

"I'm sure you've seen this already posted up on that bulletin board. What do you think about it?" She tapped the Sun Room area, and then the block above it where the rec field and courtyard was. "At the very least, they got this part right."

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

No palpitations, no fidgeting, no sudden bouts of anxiety... excellent! Speaking with Gren made for a nice, easy start to the day, and even after a (relatively) nice, easy night, that made a big difference as far as Kibitoshin was concerned. After all, everything around here just seemed to cause him more and more stress- and really, what good would he be to anyone if he couldn't even stay calm? The cat tangent hadn't helped, admittedly, but still.

All things considered, the Kaioshin couldn't help but feel strangely cheerful as he was escorted into the library, even if his last shift in this particular room had ended in carpet burns and embarrassment. That was last week, after all. This was a new week! Just because he'd made an idiot of himself then, it didn't necessarily follow that he'd do it again today. The fact that just about everyone had reported back to him on the bulletin board had certainly made it a lot easier to be optimistic- if everyone had managed to stay out of trouble and keep safe, he didn't have to start worrying again for, oh... three whole shifts!

Speaking of the bulletin board, hadn't there been something Sechs had wanted to show him? Something 'valuable' that he'd found, didn't that note say? Kibitoshin wasn't sure that he was entirely convinced that whatever it was would be worth the trouble he seemed to imply had gone into finding it, but if Sechs said it was good, he'd believe him. Anyway. Maybe he was just a little bit curious about what it was- so many people had wanted to see it, after all.

Hoping that Sechs would be lured in by the promise of science fiction (he was an android, right? Though he'd never struck him as a reader...), he picked out the first couple of books he saw without checking the covers and took a nice, comfy seat near the entrance so that he'd be seen. Now, what were these two called? 'Frankenstein'? 'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under The Sea'?

... why did that seem so ominous?

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

"--But I don't wanna go to the stupid library!" Sechs growled, disturbing whatever peace occupied the room, "I wanna go outside! I hate being cooped up in here!"

"Now Cody, you have to at least give reading a try!" his nurse replied as gently as she could, but failing spectacularly when her brutish patient let out another snarl, "You might find something good! It can help you relax--!"

"Hogwash!" Sechs snapped back, "The only way books are gonna help ME relax is if I get to smash one over someone's head--"

One minute of getting threats of sedation later and the disgruntled Sechs was left on his own in the far corner of the library, arms crossed over his aching ribs and nose stubbornly pointed away from the books that surrounded him. Well, so much for going outside for some fresh air! He didn't care if there was supposed to be some new "science fiction" books available for those to read. Besides, wouldn't such topics be the equivalent of "ancient history" back where he came from? Now that would be even MORE boring! Crap, what was he supposed to do now until the end of the shift? Maybe he could pass the time by chucking books at people who got too close to him or something...

A head of white hair and a pair of pointed ears caught Sechs' attention, and he was snapped out of his foul mood. Great! He could brag to Kibitoshin about his violent endeavors from the night before to pass the time now! Oh, and tell him about the note as well of course!

"Hey! Kibito!" Sechs exclaimed loudly, not caring for the strict silence that most libraries demanded of their patrons. He gave the Kaioshin a rough pat on the back before plopping down on a nearby seat. He grunted quietly with pain once he sat down and kept one arm firmly wrapped around his torso; despite the injury, the Replica still managed to greet his friend with a lopsided grin. "Just the guy I was looking for! Got some kick-ass stuff to tell ya about!"

[tightsofmight]

He didn't feel so much better about life as a whole after talking to Kurt, but seeing a friendly face was never a bad thing. His mood for today had risen maybe a notch and a half. That was nothing to sniff at, all things considered. Peter even allowed himself a real smile as he waved goodbye to him in the cafeteria.

The next half-a-notch boost came when he realized he was being shepherded into the library. Oh, thank God. The writers. Whoever. Thank whatever phenomenal being out there that was putting him in the same vicinity as books today. Even if he found that couldn't disappear completely into a good sci-fi book, he would get an almost-guarantee that no one would bother him if he at least looked really into it.

Time to think, or time to wash yourself away with a silly story. Either way, this shift was going to be a blessing.

Peter sifted through the aisles, still somewhat miffed at the lack of non-fiction even if that wasn't what he was looking for today. Oh well. He bypassed the classics section entirely, as Shakespeare was a headache and he just wanted something casual and ridiculous in phrasing that hadn't died hundreds of years ago. Thus, he snatched up the first Dean Koontz book he encountered. Ticktock? He skimmed the summary and shrugged - it would have to do.

Sliding into a seat without jostling his shoulder was a little harder than he'd thought. It wasn't as bad as when he'd gotten shot (the bullet had literally gone in one side and out the other), but still. Sensitivity was at maximum capacity. He grimaced and tried not to fidget with his arm in the sling. Or itch the little bandages on his face. He looked like enough of a freak without making the scratches redder. He fumbled with the book for a moment, unused to hold it with only one hand, but eventually he settled in on page one.

Three minutes later and he realized he was reading the same sentence over and over again. Come on, Parker. Focus on something that isn't a void of suck for once.

He pursed his lips and tried harder.

[BOO-BOO NORMIE LOVE-CAKES~, WHERE ARE YOOOOOOU?]

[osreborn]

Norman was already tired of today by the time breakfast was finished and he was escorted (to be generous with phrasing) to the library, as if that was an appropriate way to force him to spend his time. Funny, Stark, very funny. It was so ludicrously benign, he almost had to hold back bitter laughter.

But he continued to behave himself, if only for the sake of seeing what was up. If SHIELD wanted something to do with him -- though he wondered if it was SHIELD, it was unlike them to be so hands-off with their own projects -- he damn well wanted to know what it was before he said No! and was put into a sedated stupor. He knew how things worked here; aggression would not get him anywhere he wanted to be.

Immediately.

No matter who it was behind this madness.

Idly, he scanned the shelves, and came across a title that was familiar to him. H.G Wells's The Invisible Man, a favorite. Marvel, they'd called him, like the partner of the title character in the book. Curious that they'd choose it.

He took the first empty seat that he saw, near a boy -- a teenager, apparently. Norman raised an eyebrow briefly, the corner of his mouth quirking crookedly as he wondered since when did they admit children to places like this? Asking for trouble, it seemed like, putting them in with people like him. How amusing.

[gargantuanlaugh.livejournal.com]

The library again. Gant wasn't fond of this place, not one bit. He hated the restrictions libraries held on noise levels (for some reason, he always had trouble with these). Oh, well. At least it wasn't therapy. The chief hated to think of what that might entail if this place wasn't below torture and brainwashing. Then again, it wasn't nighttime anymore. They seemed at least a little interested in keeping face when the sun was out.

Gant shrugged it off. As long as it wasn't happening to him, he was fine with it. Though he did need to hurry up and meet with the head doctor sometime. If he didn't, he hated to think he might get mixed up in this mass of lackeys and treated like any other run-of-the-mill patient. He had to prove he was worth keeping around but without the torture. And who knows? Maybe he'd manage to get himself a nice cushy spot on the staff here. He'd even let Landel take him on as something as mundane as a secretary. And that was really lowering his standards.

But until that day came, he would have to make due and deal with all these other patients and the 'fun' activities the institute provided for them. Gant actually didn't mind reading, but he was more of a newspaper and reports kinda guy. Fiction... not really his thing. Well, maybe he'd find something in the mystery section that wouldn't be a complete waste of time. Making his way over, he stopped in front of the designated shelf and let his eyes wander the titles and authors. Hands held behind his back, he hummed to himself, not caring if he bothered other patients trying to read in the process.

[wantsyourzex.livejournal.com]

His breakfast with Zack had improved his mood a little... it was always nice to know that he might get a new addition to his Landel's "menagerie". It wasn't his menagerie back home, but it was as close as he could get here, and zookeeping had always calmed him back home.

Although, his pets here had a tendency to disappear far more than they did back on Alpha Cerenkov...

ZEX decided to spend his time in the library, hoping that the human writing might distract him. It was so difficult to get attached to anyone, to trust anyone here. He knew better, but still. In spite of himself, he'd hoped that his Captain would stay after his miraculous resurrection, and now it seemed that he'd just been a victim of wishful thinking. This place was getting to him, despite his best efforts.

No, he was supposed to be focusing on something else. Dwelling on his predicament would not help him. He went to a nearby shelf, reading the human names written on the spines and wondering at how little sense their names seemed to make, and he heard someone... humming behind him. ZEX turned around to see a tall, broad, and dark human. Not as tall as Teisel (and thoughts of him came with a lonely pang... he'd really enjoyed spending time with his 'bodyguard', but Teisel had no doubt disappeared like all the rest) but still, this new human was very impressive... and his skin was certainly an intriguing shade.

ZEX stared at him for a few seconds, not-so-subtly cataloguing and admiring his features, before he thought that he should perhaps say something. "Was that you humming a moment ago?"

[thirdboywonder.livejournal.com]

Tim was less than impressed with the announcement on the intercom. Hadn't been able to find any nonfiction texts. Right, like he believed that. It sure was convenient, wasn't it? The whole damn thing sure was convenient.

He was starting to hate convenience.

He didn't say anything to the nurse who came to get him, and she seemed to accept that after her cursory effort to talk to him. He was pretty sure that if the nurses weren't brainwashed, they were at least coached to not really care about the "patients" here. Wouldn't serve a lot of purpose if they were actually interested in anyone's well-being after all.

It did make him curious if there was even one staff member that didn't have some idea of what was going on, and would be helpful...

But this wasn't the movies, so he was probably SOL on that. Oh well. Even a costumed vigilante could daydream, right?

He wondered idly what "therapy" would entail. Brainwashing? That was a possibility, but he hadn't met anyone that seemed brainwashed, so he doubted it. Maybe it really was what it said - some mundane way of trying to convince everyone here that they needed help. He wasn't sure about that, either, though, because what purpose would it serve?

Still lost in those thoughts, he wandered away from the nurse and towards a bookshelf, feigning interest in whatever fictional tales lined the shelves.

[Mr. H.]

[catstreetblues.livejournal.com]

Sanae had gotten some useful information at breakfast, but since he'd never participated in any major battles, per se, it was only useful in a broad sense; it hardly applied to him. No one needed to tell him the name of that thing he'd saw last night for him to know to run like hell whenever he caught sight of Tonfa-san.

No, what really excited him was the prospect of some good old science fiction. He'd told Jiraiya this once before: he loved stories that challenged tradition and society. Science fiction was one of the few genres that actively celebrated that perspective, one of the "other".

As he browsed the shelves, almost ready to track down a nurse to point him in the right direction..."Hey! Look who it is. Long time no see!" Sanae walked up behind Alvin and gave him a pat on the back. "How's life, kid?"

[lighthearted]

That Buzz person had been pretty interesting. Sora wasn't quite sure what to think of him; on the one hand, he'd been really nice and friendly, but on the other, he'd been treating him like he didn't know what he was talking about, at least a little. Sora knew that was probably because he was still getting used to this place, though. Still, why act like he was someone who traveled the stars when he wasn't? Did he just think it was funny, or had he been looking for a reaction?

Either way, it did bug him a little, but not enough that he planned to avoid the man. He just wanted to find out more about him, but that might have to wait until Buzz had settled into Landel's some more. He would have to keep an eye on him, then, if he could. There was a chance that he would be a good candidate for Arts and Crafts once he was used to the curve balls that Landel's threw.

Not that Sora wanted to look at every new person that he met as a possible recruit, but it was hard to get his new leadership role off of his mind. The library might help a bit, though, since it was the sort of place where you could learn about new worlds and forgot the one that you were in. There were even some "science fiction" books, and weren't those about space, too? It looked like he was shaping up to have a space-filled day.

And so Sora wandered the aisles looking for any books that interested him. He was way more willing to read something when it wasn't required, but he usually just didn't have the time here. In this case, half of his attention was directed on the door as he waited for Riku or Kairi to come through.

[Riku, it's time for a club meeting. No girls allowed.]

[inherited]

Was it the entire night? And breakfast?

The fact frustrated Riku more than he liked. Just the other night, he managed to get somewhere, and now he was stuck knowing that he slept through everything. How was he going to help Sora run anything if he couldn't even see the nighttime himself?

His nurse was, thankfully, not too doting when he dragged himself out of bed. It surprised him to see the other bed empty, but it looked like someone had left it, rather than it not having been slept in at all. That was a good thing; what he knew about this place was that they had more power by staying in instead of being tossed out. Then again, that wasn't much knowledge to really work with.

All the same, he trotted out and decided to hit the library. His usual cursory glance over the bulletin could be abandoned in favor of looking for his friends. The board would still be there, and he didn't want to waste time.

Much to his relief, he saw Sora by the books. Just who he wanted—though, it was a natural circumstance for him to look for the others, too. Not only Kairi, but Naminé or Roxas, too. They were all important. Then again, he hadn't seen Naminé yesterday. Maybe he should look for her more carefully today. A note, really, to make, but later.

"Hey," he greeted his friend. "I slept through the night and breakfast." Getting that out of the way. It meant that he wouldn't have to beat around the bush with what he didn't do.

[nobleman]

Catching up with Anise had been nice, both because he always liked to talk with a friend and because it gave him a better idea of what all of his friends would be up to in the coming night. He couldn't be sure until he spoke with Luke, but still, it made him feel a little more grounded. There were a lot of them here now, but they were all getting situated and they would all be able to work together and help each other before long. It was a good feeling.

Though when Guy checked back on the bulletin to see if Luke had responded (he hadn't, which could just mean he was busy or sleeping in again), he caught a different note that grabbed his interest. The same person who had written there yesterday and mentioned the planet of Roak, which Claude had told him about, now wanted to talk to him.

Guy felt bad that he hadn't remembered to bring up with exchange with Claude the night before, but they had had a lot of other things to worry about and it had slipped his mind. The mystery bulletin person didn't seem to mind, though, and so Guy figured it would be best to give her the benefit of the doubt and agree to meet her. Chances were she didn't mean any harm, and he could always tell Claude about it later.

Which was how Guy ended up standing right by the door to wait for the woman. It seemed that he'd beaten her there, which wasn't too surprising, and so he didn't mind waiting. Arms crossed over his chest, he watched the door for someone who matched the description he'd been given.

[For Ilia and then Claude!]

[avengingfists.livejournal.com]

Ilia was a little slow leaving breakfast, limping along a wall towards the library. At least it seemed most of the important rooms were located around the Sun Room. That made it easy to get a few bulletin posts and not have to tread the entire building to just reach the next destination.

With her injury slowing her down it wasn't completely surprising to see the man had beat her to the meeting place. Hmm, his bangs really did sweep to the left. Waving her nurse away--really, she didn't need help meeting new people here--she turned to him with a smile, looking a bit apologetic. "Sorry for the short notice. I hope I haven't been keeping you long."

She shuffled a bit to ease up on her injured leg, but did little else to show her discomfort. Right now was the time for exchanging information, not to indulge a slight irritation. She hoped it wouldn't be difficult to earn this man's trust so she could perhaps find out if any of her travel companions were here. Anise had been easy enough to befriend, but she couldn't be sure if this man was as wary of giving information as Kratos had been the day before. "My name is Ilia Silvestri. I'm an officer in the Terran Alliance, from circa Space Date 346."

She conveniently left out her actual post in the Alliance if her position aboard the Calnus brought unwanted attention. After all, even though she wanted this man's trust, she didn't need to play all her cards and be left vulnerable in case this meeting turned out to be a mistake.

[mistressmadgirl.livejournal.com]

Of course they wouldn't have nonfiction, that might conceivably be useful. Still, if Agatha had to pick a useless pastime to take part in while imprisoned, the library would have been higher on her list than a lot of the other options.

There were no Heterodyne stories, not that she'd expected anything different with their supposed nonexistence. No Trelawney Thorpe, either, which was a bit more disappointing since Gil had got her kind of hooked on those-

Agatha stopped short, then, not caring that she was blocking the aisle or that she'd dropped her notebook. She'd managed to put the Immolation out of her mind so far by staying preoccupied with Ema, or Lucrezia, or tools... but today her cellmate was doing fine, the presence in her mind quiescent, and the toolbox shut safely in the closet with the half-finished shock-prod.

Now there was time to reflect that she'd been snatched from the middle of a horribly dangerous medical procedure, and while they'd cured her there was no evidence they'd have done the same for the others. Even if she got back to Mechanicsburg, what would she find there?

Agatha sunk to the floor.

[For anyone to trip over!]

[stlg13bomber.livejournal.com]

Carter had come to the library in search of more Future books but all of them seemed to be story books or really old ones. Where were the history books? This didn't make sense.

The bomber ran his fingers over the spines of the books, frowning in concentration as he searched for something vaguely nonfiction. He took a slight step to the right and tripped over a girl who was crouching on the floor.

"Whoah!" Carter tumbled over her and thudded on the floor, hitting his head on the shelf. He squinched his eyes shut in pain and clutched at the back of his head, trying to get his brain back together. Owwww. "Sorry," he mumbled, not looking at who he'd fallen over.

[dualistic]

Surprisingly enough, breakfast hadn't been completely useless. Scott was a bit of a twitchy kid, but he wasn't a drag to talk to and he'd given him his own version of what he'd encountered in the basement, which could prove useful in the end. Of the people that he'd gotten to meet during that crazy night, Scott was the one that he'd been most interested in talking to. He had no way of tracking down the costumed kid and the boy with the floating light was a little too out there for his tastes. Ryuuzaki and Lunge he had obviously spoken to before.

His conclusion was that he wouldn't mind working with Scott again if it came up, but he wasn't necessarily going to seek him out, either. He thought that was fair enough, and so he left the cafeteria in a decent mood. It seemed that he was having to fall back on the little things for the moment, since the big picture was just going to make him want to take a gun to his head.

And he was completely capable of that, so he had to be careful.

Unfortunately, Harvey had no interest in science fiction. He had known from the start that the staff wouldn't give them non-fiction, which was why he hadn't bothered adding his vote to the pile. With a sigh, the man entered the library and looked around, already knowing that there was nothing worthwhile to be found.

There were other novels that he could have flipped through, but he thought he might be better off just finding a quiet place to sit where he could note down his findings from the post that he had made on the bulletin earlier in the day. Surprisingly enough, he had gotten a strong response; there were even more people here that were connected to the law than he'd realized. It was both worrying and intriguing, though he had to wonder when he'd allowed himself to get caught up in data gathering and note taking in the first place. Hadn't he judged Edgeworth for doing the same thing a few days back? Though that man was apparently gone...

Either way, Harvey ended up sitting at a table with his journal open as he started to record the results from the post that he made. He didn't know if it would amount to anything, but it was the sort of thing he wanted to keep track of anyway.

[To be tormented by the Riddler.]

[enigmaestro.livejournal.com]

A connection well made, it seemed, between Edward and Norman Osborn. Something to be said of men with similar ambitions, no doubt, and similar concerns. Their breakfast ended without much ceremony -- or many answers -- and Edward found himself ushered into another pattern. He cringed at the thought of living within this structure, a maze not of his own design. It was a troublesome idea, the sort of thoughts of coal that fired nightmares.

He stepped into the library, he foot placing a creak over a floorboard. The sound sliced through the general silence. At the very least, he noted, it wasn't a completely dismal collection. Nothing to admire, but nothing to curl away from. That was something to fear; a lack of available knowledge altogether. Such was the bane of Arkham, in its early days, and that's when the darker moments took grasp. He shook his head, attempting to rid himself of the notions of Arkham. This was not the same place, and that was worth repetition. Not the same place.

He wandered around, gazing carefully at each title, noting the names of H.G. Wells and Asimov. The binds weren't too well worn. He briefly wondered why the emphasis on science fiction, and what that said about the clientele here. Or the staff.

"So we find a parallel to Arkham at last," he murmured to himself, the growl of a whisper rolled like gravel. Science fiction and mental patients, what a joyous mix. No doubt the latter was stranger. A sharp left turn froze into a halt.

The familiarity was striking and unsettling, like an old photo of a building before its destruction. The facial parallel was uncanny, so accurate that Eddie couldn't help but double take. He had known Two-Face to engaged in reconstructive surgery, but that was never a fix that stuck. The tics always remained, the motions of fear and rage. This man couldn't have possibly been--

-- Or could he?

Eddie took an agonizing step closer. He had to know, for himself. He had to know if any of this was real, if it was a mistake. Or if he was, in fact, supposed to be here. But he wasn't Arthur Wynne, and he wasn't insane, and he was reformed. Completely reformed.

"Harvey?" Eddie's whisper was nearly a hiss. He stood only a foot away, close enough to invade personal space. But far enough to run with a head start, if necessary.

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Speaking with Isaac had left Peter about as drained as he'd expected, which made him glad to hear that he was being taken to the library instead of to therapy. Having to deal with Mohinder in the state that he was in right after he'd spoken to Isaac would have been too much for him. Meanwhile, the library had a tendency to be quiet. With some of the patients off in therapy and others in the Sun Room, it never got too loud. People had a tendency to keep their voices down in libraries by nature, and that calmness was going to do him a world of good after what his breakfast had been like.

While Peter usually didn't bother with actually picking out a book to read, as he tended to prefer finding someone to talk to (and there really wasn't enough time in the shift to immerse yourself into a book the way that he would have liked), he thought that it might do him some good this time around. The lives of characters in stories tended to be just as bad, if not worse, than what he was going through now. He might just be able to relate to the protagonist in one of the novels, or maybe even feel lucky that he wasn't them, depending on what he found.

It was textbook escapism, but he'd always had his head in the clouds, or so he'd been told. He thought he was allowed to this once.

Nodding to himself, Peter started to slowly wander the aisles as he searched for a title or cover that would catch his attention. It wasn't the best criteria to search by, but he didn't have much else at his disposal at the moment.

[darwinism]

Elle was alive.

That was the all-consuming thought that Sylar woke to, just after "ow, my shoulder" and "oh, right, this again." Elle was still breathing and bitching despite Sylar's best efforts, and though this wasn't the first time that one of his victims had come back to haunt him from the grave, it was the first time that it had happened as part of some diabolical plan to drive him insane, or whatever the hell the doctor's endgame was.

Sylar ran a hand down his face as he shoved his legs off the bed and planted his feet on the floor. He glanced at the back of his hand, something that was becoming unsettlingly routine and even more unsettlingly comforting. Still scarred. He stood up.

If he was going to be a victim of this power, he wasn't going to keep Elle in his system, that was for sure. Aside from being a drastic change in body, he didn't want to cooperate in any part of the big trap that the asshole doctor had planned for him, even if that meant playing into yet another nugget of information that he'd been left during the experimentation: that he could attain new identities through touch. He'd have to get close enough to someone to take their body, and it'd have to be someone strategic – or at least someone better than Elle. Wally, maybe? He'd be pretty easy on all those counts, and Sylar knew him well enough to do a good imitation to boot.

Mimic. Sylar grit his teeth as his nurse appeared and escorted him through his usual trek to the nuthouse's main area. It seemed stupid not to take advantage of the gift he'd been given, but it seemed to be exactly what the doctor expected from Sylar, and that bothered him. He'd done fine on his own so far; he didn't need any kind of twisted charity.

Except he knew he hadn't done that well. He knew his options were limited.

He kept to himself during breakfast, mulling over his thoughts as he chewed on his food and scanned the area for familiar faces. He could find a couple of acquaintances here and there, but the crowd always made it hard to pinpoint people he needed without looking conspicuous. Besides, with Claire and Elle and their respective tirades, he could never know when one of them would try to out him on the spot.

Plus, he needed to... figure out how he wanted to approach them in general. They both had knowledge from home that he didn't – knowledge that could work against him if he wasn't careful. The idea that he'd somehow been deprived of Claire's power, and that he hadn't even had the chance to experience it yet...

Library time. Sylar was still deliberating over his options when suddenly, he came across a solution.

Peter. There he was like some kind of gift on a silver platter, absorbed in his browsing and (as per usual) oblivious to the world around him. A rush of schemes and ideas raced through Sylar's head: here was his solution to all his problems. After all, who would question honest little Peter Petrelli?

Sylar was careful in how he sauntered up to the other man, trying to use blending with the crowd to his advantage. He'd have one shot at this before Peter went on the defensive, one chance to take a wonderful substitution for Peter's power itself.

He was close now. What had the asshole said? Touching and focusing?

Sylar braced himself for some kind of backlash, but so far, his body had been cooperating. Quickly, he pressed his hand to the back of Peter's neck – closed his eyes – a split second – there.

"Boo," he said.

[zack-fair.livejournal.com]

A lot of people would have probably called his breakfast a waste of time, but Zack didn't think that was the case in the slightest. Helping someone out, even with something as simple as how to use a fork, could mean a lot. And doing someone a favor like that always tended to put him in a good mood. If you couldn't get enjoyment out of something like that, then you probably needed to look at life a little differently.

Still, Zack knew that he wasn't like most people. But as things stood, he was lucky enough to be alive, even if he was stuck in some crazy mental hospital. (Was that redundant?) His friends were in danger and he was having a hard enough time just getting down into the basement, but he wasn't going to let that ruin his second chance.

He wandered into the library while rotating one arm to get the kinks out of it, peering around the area as he tried to decide what to do with himself. A lot of the other patients were actually looking for books to read, and it made him wonder if he should do the same. He didn't know any of the books, so he figured there was nothing wrong with learning a little about the world that he was stuck on.

Even if they didn't get any non-fiction, a lot could be learned through stories too.

Zack sped down the aisles, waiting for something to catch his eye, and eventually something did. When he spotted Gulliver's Travels, he reached up to pull it off the shelf and then leaned against it, opening the book up and balancing it against his forearm so that he could start reading.

[composers.livejournal.com]

Though the conversation he had with the man last shift was less pleasant than he hoped, Austria was grateful that nothing more came out of it. To accept the oddities possessed by others was hardly pleasant, but he would rather do just that than face worse, and there was plenty he could think of that could easily usurp that.

With breakfast passing the nation could do no more than follow his nurse, dismissing the Sun Room in favor of the other option granted. A good book or two may prove to be a pleasant distraction, unless the selection was as lackluster as the institute itself. In cases such as these quality was all that mattered, and if that was not possible then the literature itself fell short.

And so the aristocrat found himself wandering through the aisles, violet eyes skimming over the titles offered, and at last he found something of interest. However, said book was currently on the shelf at level with a man's knees, and after a moment's thought he quietly spoke up.

"Pardon me," Austria began. "Would it be too much to ask if I could gain access to these books, if only for a second?"

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Indy wanted, for just an hour, a break from the absurd. Hell, five minutes would have been enough. Nobody claiming they were eight hundred years old or a mythical creature, nobody changing anybody's gender or disappearing into a gap in space, nobody trading theories about where the interdimensional travel devices were kept. Thus he retreated with his journal and pen to the library (even with no nonfiction, libraries still felt like a place of relative sanity) and took a chair to wait for Javert. Javert, who seemed like a sensible fellow. One hopefully not given to ridiculous claims.

While he waited, he thought about the exchange with Richter. He still didn't trust the guy, but the stories he and Marcus Cole had had to tell had been interesting, to say the least. Apparently the latter was gone now, but the former might still be a useful person to know--especially if they turned out to be right about that technology. Indy recognized that their actually finding anything down there (assuming they could even make it far enough down) was a long shot, but he liked that at least now he was on a track that had the potential to get him somewhere. He wasn't sure what the benefits of collecting the experiment notes from Javert were, other than satisfying his curiosity, but he hated to leave stones unturned. Literally and figuratively.

[for Javert]

[unmocked-lawr.livejournal.com]

There had been no sign of Jones in the Sun Room, but a rough description of the man had been enough for Javert's nurse to recognize "Harry Lucas Jr." and direct him to the library. He hadn't been afforded the time to speak to Jones the night of Ryuuzaki's meeting, but if the detective trusted him, he was obviously worth meeting again. Besides which, he had expressed interest in the experimental sessions; any trustworthy second opinion was extremely welcome in Javert's opinion, and if Jones was a doctor, so much the better.

Locating the other man was straightforward once he had obtained a location, and Javert approached briskly, inclining his head. "Dr. Jones, is it? I've brought the papers you wanted."

[timedork]

The Doctor had kept an eye out for Donna during breakfast, but had seen no sign of her. He hoped it meant that she was sleeping in, recovering from last night, but it left him feeling uneasy nonetheless. He wanted to see her today, up and about, to know that she was alright. Would be alright. He needed a chance to speak with her alone.

He had wanted to stay in the sun room after breakfast to continue looking for her, but his nurse had other ideas. She'd coaxed the Doctor into the library instead.

"You seem tense today, John," she was saying, but the Doctor wasn't paying much attention to her, instead looking around to see if maybe Donna was in here. "Why don't you read for a while and try to relax? You were reading this the last time you were in here, weren't you?"

She pressed a book into his hands then—the copy of Wells' The War of the Worlds he'd picked up last time he'd been in here, with Donna—and hung around until he'd taken a seat in a chair. As soon as he had, she hurried off, leaving him alone with the book.

Reluctantly, he cracked it open. Maybe the nurse had a point, and he could at least try to read for a little while... If Donna was still sleeping, pacing wouldn't get her out of her room any faster.

[For L!]

[ryuuzaki]

Consciousness came only in halting stages.

At first, L was aware of pain. It had no specific origin—instead, he perceived it as a dull presence, filling his body and making the idea of moving unappealing. Then, there were distant sounds: noises in the hall, a low-level bustle of activity. He was set apart from them, both by his location and his condition, but they broke into his sleep in bits and pieces, demanding his attention. Finally, he was chilled.

He woke up while the other patients were at breakfast. Resting on his side for what felt like a long time, he kept his dull gaze focused on a patch of the wall that had no precise boundaries. This is... soothing? Yes.

He knew where he was, and he knew that he wasn't in good shape. It wasn't urgent that he try to spring into action; doing so, even if he were capable, might be detrimental to his recovery. They had performed a medical procedure on him without his consent, and for all the talk of technology and necessity, putting him back together was more difficult than taking him apart. The pain at the back of his head proved it. It also proved that he was awake, and alive, and in that, there was a sense of relief. He hadn't been confident that he would survive.

He curled his toes and fingers to test their condition and his ability to move them. The results were satisfactory: Everything is intact, unless they are somehow phantom digits...? Improbable. The doctor wasn't interested in causing physical impairment... at least, not as his primary goal. L allowed the thought to trail away. The doctor had not taken any particular care to avoid hurting him, either.

He had to admit to himself, not for the first time, that he hated his own vulnerability. He had cultivated and enhanced a stoicism that was already natural to him; had pressed himself, over and over, to follow what he had determined as the best course, even if it was against his personal inclinations. It was how he had been able to spend three months in Yagami's incessant company, how he had forced himself to feign overtures of friendship while knowing that the "friend" wanted him dead. He wasn't sure that he would have described himself as strong or brave—he didn't think in those parameters—but testing the limits of any strength or bravery he might possess seemed to be part of the Institute's purpose. Today, he felt frail, and he resented it. He shouldn't need to be soothed; it shouldn't matter; this was only a stumbling block between him and his goals.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and rolled onto his back.

It was a mistake. His low groan echoed through the empty room. The ache in his lower spine would probably persist at least through the day, but he knew that his head would take a few days to heal, even if the healing was accelerated. In spite of the cushioning provided by the bandages, it hurt to rest the incision against the pillow. He turned his head to the side, so that he faced out into the room, but otherwise, he continued to lie flat on his back, waiting for the nurse to make an appearance. Moving required more effort than he would have anticipated. Some of the drugs might still be in his system, he knew: it would explain the weakness, the lethargy, the fog in his head. He raised his hand, which wavered, and touched the bandage where it covered his temple. With care, he traced one-quarter of its orbit, to the place where it held a few rectangles of gauze against the back of his head.

[Continued!]

[unfleeing.livejournal.com]

A library. The idea of such a room residing in what was still technically a hospital seemed absurd. The youkai was not pleased with his female caretaker's plot to culture him- Naraku wasn't well educated, but he was intelligent enough. Education was for the weak; it was for those who had no idea how to pursue their dreams and goals with the skills they already had. For someone such as himself, there was just no use found in a short trip to a small, book-infested space.

He began to feel even more cramped and enclosed upon entering the room itself. Casting a quick look around, he noticed one particular individual who seemed to be in just as bad a mood as he himself. Lips curling slightly, Naraku ventured forth, to initiate more conversation.

It was what he thrived on, after all.

"Hello," he stated, maintaining a calm, even tone, at a volume reasonable for their surroundings. He approached slowly, cautiously, but tried to hold on to that friendly air. As he came closer, he glanced at the book held in the other's hands - Lolita. A strange title. "Interesting choice. Have you read it?"

Of course, he himself hadn't - had never even heard of any works titled something as ridiculous as Lolita - but that was beside the point. If this man had, perhaps he could offer a summation? It would give Naraku something to do during the day, anyway.

[longlivetheking]

Patients slowly began filling up the library, but the former lion hardly payed them any mind. That was, until one of them saw particularly fit to approach him. It was just an alternative to having some poor fool dragged over by the nurses. Scar had learned quickly that, during the day, this place had apparent rules against being on your own.

"I haven't," he admitted, the tone of his voice not exactly the prime example of enthusiasm. The only reason Scar would even hold a book was so to lure those persistent nurses away. It certainly wasn't as though he felt the actual interest to find out what sort of story it told, so it hardly mattered which of these silly books he ended up holding for decoration.

"Though judging from your comment, I suppose you have?" he asked. How else would the man know his choice was a supposedly 'interesting' one?

[toxicspiderman]

Sangamon Taylor liked libraries. Libraries full of pull-drawers of microfiche and film archives. Property records and old fire maps and, if he was lucky, people who would do his research for him.

He walked over to the new books. Kurt Vonnegut: still pretentious as fuck. Allegorical bullshit. Like someone had put H.G. Wells and Rachel Carson in a blender and put the result on those magnets the craft room had. The book was short and by the end he was still rooting for the ocean-destroying reaction even after he'd stared one down himself. Boring.

He picked up something with both an exploding spaceship and armor that only helped if the gunmen used the (very visible) nipples for targets, and leaned up against a wall. The book was the mental equivalent of heavy metal. Predictable, misogynisitic, and less mind-numbing than actual intoxicants but more so than public radio.

[Stop, Justin Hammer Time]

[ihaveaslot.livejournal.com]

Breakfast was a quick affair, because Hammer figured if he was going to be stuck in this place while the nurses continued to play dumb about finding his paperwork, he might as well take advantage of it and sleep in, right? Hey, it was practically a free vacation and after the Stark Expo, he needed one. Or three.

Granted, a library wasn't his first choice to spend quality vacation time, but... okay? When he arrived there, it didn't take very long to find out that the selection was shit and mostly filled with public domain crap and a few books that Hammer vaguely remembered skimming through in college. Don't judge a book by its cover, he supposed, but it was hard when the covers were bland and the titles blander.

Now, Hammer guessed he could have wasted time perusing the books and finding something that might be interesting, but there was a guy leaning on the wall near him that was already reading something and Hammer was feeling lazy today.

"You look like you found something interesting," He piped up, adjusting his glasses out of habit (now that he actually had them back from that Gabe idiot). "You wouldn't happen to know if they had an extra copy of that, would you?"

[sdatislife.livejournal.com]

Shinji was still thinking about breakfast. About his conversation with Kaworu. He was distracted - excited, nervous, sad, happy - so many emotions running through him at once. The library was quiet though. He'd picked out a book on music, but he wasn't really reading it. Instead he was sitting in a chair, half flipping through it, half staring at the ceiling. So much to think about - and he'd only been here a short while. It seemed like much longer.

_[Free!]

[idkmybfframen.livejournal.com]

[hope this is cool!]

The last place Naruto wanted to go was a boring old library. He wasn't much of a reader anyway, and if there wasn't anything useful, then why read anything at all?

Once he got there, though, it looked a little strange. There were only books here, and no scrolls at all. What kind of a library didn't even have scrolls in it? He definitely stood by what he'd said on the board to Sakura: this place was crazy.

He quickly got bored with the shelves of books - without ever even opening one! - and looked around for someone to talk to. Surely someone else had to be as bored as he was.

He noticed a boy who had to be somewhere near his age sitting in a chair not too far away. The guy didn't seem to be enjoying his book, which didn't surprise Naruto at all, so he took it upon himself to provide entertainment.

He walked right over and leaned down a little, making sure to be as noticeable as possible without a nurse yelling at him.

"Hi!"

[autophoenix.livejournal.com]

As nice and normal as breakfast had been, and as effective as it was for getting her mind off of last night's events, her good mood only lasted so long, as it was always prone to doing in this place. When she got to the library, nurse gently guiding her through the doors in the too-delicate, patronizing way that they always did, that made Claire want to go postal and punch her in the face, she looked out over the tables.

New science fiction was what the announcement had said, right? Well. Too bad Claire wasn't all that interested in Sci-Fi, which left her to just brood on the fact that the place was a reminder that not everyone was all there like the majority of the people she'd met. There were people, like Natalia, who definitely needed therapy of some kind, even if it was not nearly the kind of therapy that warranted sending monsters after them on a nightly basis.

… Was there any level of crazy bad enough to warrant that?

Well, Elle and Sylar's cases could certainly be argued, but Claire didn't really want to think too hard on it, and instead gave the nurse a smile and went to start browsing the shelves. Classics, mostly, because it was the only kind of literature that could hold Claire's attention. Cheerleader or not, she liked to think she had high brow tastes in it to some extent.

So, after a thoughtful look at Brave New World, which made her briefly thankful her situation wasn't that bad, she reached for The Island of Doctor Moreau and found herself a table to sit at.

[ for Roxas ]

[rischiarare.livejournal.com]

Well, breakfast hadn't gone so bad... Kirijou had seemed annoyed for some of the conversation, but he couldn't say he believed it was his fault, especially if she had just woken up today. His first day had been more then overwhelming, and Roxas wasn't surprised someone wasn't about to believe all the crazy stuff about Landel's at first - or really catch on to something weird going on, anyway. It really took solid experience of the night to believe the stuff about the monsters and portals and zombies.

Maybe he should have gone into some detail...

"The sun room or the library, Keanu?" his nurse asked him in the hallway after the last ringing words of the intercom faded away. While Roxas liked the light that filtered into the sun room, he hadn't ever been to the library. He wasn't much of a reader, but it seemed worth investigating. He voiced his chosen option to her and she led him in a new direction, leaving him alone to run his eyes along the extensive bookshelves in the room. He didn't recognize any titles, so he just skimmed his fingers along their spines until touching a book that was sticking out by just an inch.

Moby Dick. The Nobody plopped in a chair next to a blonde girl, examining the picture-less cover for any more information. There wasn't anything else printed on it but the title.

"Call me Ishmael." Roxas whispered the first sentence, liking the sound of it. It was very... definitive.

[beastlyred.livejournal.com]

He hadn't found out a thing at breakfast, and then one of those crazy nurses had come to escort him to the library. He had to admit, the idea of a library was an interesting one, but only made things more weird. And if he had somehow ended up back on a populated planet with his brothers alive (he admitted it probably wasn't the most unbelievable thing he'd seen), it didn't exactly make up for the fact that he was trapped in some weird mental institution that thought he was suffering from some sort of delusion. Though at least she'd left him more or less alone after that, and he should probably be glad he didn't have to go to 'therapy' when he was still trying to figure out what was going on, assuming it meant being stuck in a room with someone with the same insistence as the nurses.

No non-fiction figured, but at least he could take a look at what books they did have...no, he had more important things to do. Resisting the urge to start pulling books off the shelves, he started moving around the library...he could swear he felt Nigredo nearby, and thought either of his brothers would be difficult to miss, even in a crowd.

[For Nigredo]

[falseblack]

The last thing Nigredo had expected to find in the morning was a live connection, one seemingly unchanged from days prior. Red bordering black, an eldest had come back in their midst. In the transition from sleep to consciousness, the child entertained wishful thinking. Desperation carving out a nonexistent presence--it sadly wouldn't be the first.

When logic fell back into place, however, Nigredo was instantly on his feet, shuffling toward the source he couldn't possibly ignore. His nurse, who disapproved of the speed, collared him until they reached the cafeteria, which for once, the boy could not be still for. He had to check. He had to ensure this presence was indeed Rubedo's.

She finally let him off at the library, and here, he started to track down the threads. Peering at furnishings didn't reveal anyone noteworthy. Towards the shelves, however, stood someone familiar, with telling red hair and identical features. Though the rational step was to approach him and demand an explanation, Nigredo instead threw his waveform in the opposite direction, to the brother who was still asleep. To force him awake with a persistent tugging.

[freewill]

For a random encounter, his conversation at breakfast had turned out to be surprisingly useful. Castiel had learned a number of important things that were probably common knowledge to those who had been here for a long while, but useful to those who had only just arrived. He was regretting that he not had the foresight to ask Sam and Dean how long they had been in this place, but that could only be rectified if he could actually find them. With the number of other patrons, it was sometimes difficult to even spot those two in a crowd.

As Castiel was led from the cafeteria to the library, his nurse attempted to reprimand him for not eating. From what he had noticed about other patients and how they interacted with the staff, the best response was none at all. Staying silent was a simple task for Castiel, and he employed it willingly in this case.

The nurse was left to sigh and shake her head at him (what was that supposed to indicate?) once they reached the library. Castiel, meanwhile, took in the long, cramped aisles and realized that it would be even more difficult to find the Winchesters in this room. Frowning, he extricated himself from the nurse and started to do a preliminary search.

They were nowhere to be found.

Forcing back what he'd come to learn was frustration, Castiel tried to focus on the books instead. He hadn't had the chance to read any human novels in years and years, and he was always curious to learn more about their culture. Though as he started to make a slow march down one of the aisles, he found himself looking for an entirely different text, in spite of himself.

God was dead to him. He'd cursed his Father for leaving them, he'd taken a page out of Dean's book and drank his anger about it away, and he'd put it behind him. And yet here he was, searching out His book, His word, as recorded down and distorted by humans.

He'd read it all before, and yet something was pushing him to scan over the words again. The Bible was there, just as like it always was (even in the motel rooms that he'd frequented so often before this), and Castiel slowly pulled it from its spot, staring down at the cover blankly.

[Free!]

[shorttank.livejournal.com]

[If she'd still ping as not-human to him, that's fine by me!]

Talking to Niikura had started so many crazy theories about this place spinning around in Leela's mind (as if she hadn't had enough already) that she felt like she was in the Maternifuge again. She was hardly sure if she needed to go with ideas that were more crazy, or less, to get to the bottom of it.

She told Betty to take her to the library this time, wanting some quiet to think things over, and she spotted a man who looked her own age, or even older. That would make a nice change. Running around with teenagers was tiring, especially when they were all gung-ho about certain death. He seemed like he was spacing out a little, just looking at the plain cover of that book, so Leela spoke quietly. "Hi. Whatcha got there?"

[fourstonewalls]

Lana paced between the shelves, two goals in mind. First, she needed to find Ema, and verify that she'd suffered no serious injury while Lana had been indisposed. Second -- she needed to avoid being seen doing anything of the sort. Neither the nurses nor her fellow prisoners needed to know how much the morning hours had worn on her nerves.

So she was cataloging books, looking for any major discrepancies from what should have been on similar shelves at home. It took her up the aisle and back down, and around the corner, where she also had a glimpse out into the Sun Room. So far, nothing seemed out of place; not all of the glossy-spined popular fiction was familiar, but the classical literature read like a high-school reading list, and the small collection of detective novels read like her high school bookshelf; a decade out of date, but most were familiar. She paused, and tipped a Grisham novel out of the rack. She'd come to the end of the last shelf twice already; maybe it was time to be less conspicuous.

She sat down at one of the tables, back ramrod straight, as if as if the novel was worthy of serious study, and began re-reading. Within minutes, some of the tension had left her shoulders, and her focus on the pages was genuine.

[free!]

[ttly-not-a-rat.livejournal.com]

Ratigan could barely contain his glee when he strode into the library. The other patients here were of dubious intellect based off of his breakfast encounter, but one certainly couldn't go wrong with books! Ah, it brought back memories. Long days spent in the library and even longer nights spent at home eagerly reading whatever he couldn't finish during the day. Even the musty smell was nostalgic.

Giddy with excitement, Ratigan made a beeline right for the classical literature section and, after a few minutes of scanning the bookshelf, chose out the book that most likely described his current situation: Dante's Divine Comedy. Ratigan was trapped in this hellish place for the moment, but there was no doubt in his mind that he would soon ascend into heaven. Not literally, of course. Ratigan didn't want to die quite yet.

As he cracked open the book and began to read the opening pages, he stumbled around, feeling for an open chair. His search bore fruit at last. Sitting down, he finally looked up from the book, only to see that he was seated across from a young lady. She seemed to be engrossed in a novel by...John Grisham? Who in the world was "John Grisham?"

"Ah, pardon me, miss..." Ratigan said, a single eyebrow raised, "What year is that book from?" It was most likely that he was from the future. After all, it was doubtful that someone as dignified as Ratigan wouldn't know about an author famous enough to be published.

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

Judging by the announcement signifying the end of breakfast, it was time for their scheduled "therapy" assignments. Spock had wondered if he would be assigned to Venkman once again, though once the nurse had escorted him to the library, it was apparent that he would be spared for awhile longer yet.

While the change in the library's contents was somewhat noteworthy, Spock was uninterested in searching for the new selection of books if it did not include non-fiction. Of course, given what he knew of their surroundings and the ones who were holding them captive, Spock was aware that he would have had to have been suspicious of any non-fiction the staff allowed them to find.

His time would likely be better spent either communicating with other patients in an attempt to gather more information, or contacting the captain in person to report his progress. As it could sometimes be difficult to locate an individual due to the nurses' meddling and the many patients that filled certain rooms during activity shifts, however, Spock knew the bulletin board was likely the most reliable method, albeit a more public one. He knew he would need to check it once more as soon as the opportunity presented itself.

In the meantime, he stood in front of one of the bookshelves, positioning himself in a way that, to the staff, might have made him look as though he were glancing through the titles. In reality, however, he was more focused on the patients who were nearby.

[For Ema.]

[scientist-skye.livejournal.com]

This place was starting to catch up with Ema.

At least, it was in a purely physical sense; Ema was so tired that she slept right on through her nurse's first attempts at waking her up and, consequently, breakfast. When the nurse finally managed to rouse the girl just before second shift, she was clearly agitated and felt the need to express her frustrations in the most passive-aggressive way possible. As such, Ema's trip to the library was filled with a cheerful lecture about breakfast being the most important meal of the day and that Ema's tendency toward skipping meals had not escaped the staff's notice: "Two meals skipped entirely and one hardly touched in the span of less than a week! Marie, I understand that this transition is difficult for you, but please don't make things harder than they already are. I don't think there's anything in your file about an eating disorder, but I'm afraid I'll have to make a note about this troubling behavior of yours."

Ema, still groggy, simply let the lecture roll off of her. It wasn't worth getting worked up over a stupid woman who didn't realize that Ema's eating habits were irregular was because of what happened at night. Still, the silence of the library was a nice change from the nurse's nagging, and Ema instantly went exploring through the racks of books. She hoped to find some books about science that she could curl up and relax with. There was nothing like a large textbook with a copy of the Periodic Table of the Elements printed into the inside cover to improve a bad mood, after all. Ema could use that kind of comfort.

The search turned out to be fruitless, which was unfortunate but not entirely unexpected. Among the shelves, however, she did see a familiar face that was pretty much the next best thing. "Mr. Spock! Good morning!" They could continue their conversation from yesterday; he had only just started telling her the good stuff (chief science officer! That had to be the best job ever!) when the shift changed and the nurses had separated them.

[stealthetruth.livejournal.com]

Wooh, whatta night!

Kay waved off her nurse and plunked in a chair sideways, musing over it. She wasn't all that sure she liked that Gant guy, but it had been fun to hang out with Ema (except for the depressing bits). Still, it had seemed to go on orever, and then she suddenly woke up from it and she'd missed breakfast? Jeeze, this place really was evil!

Before coming to the library, she'd spent some time at the bulletin board (despite her nurse gently urging her along) and had made a ton of posts, mostly about her being the Yatagarasu. (She wondered if that other raven-haired girl was gonna come find her, of if she needed to find the other girl? Eh, they'd figure it out, she was sure.) But now she had nothing to do but read! And she was pretty sure they wouldn't have anything interesting anyway, what she'd looked at on her way in had mostly been old boring stuff.

"Man, couldn't they have let us do crafty stuff again?" she asked, at no one in particular.

[Freeeeee as a raven in the sky!]

[bodhiandspirit.livejournal.com]

After an encounter that could only be described as annoying, Rita was ready for a chance to do something more productive - and hopefully in a more quiet space. The library seemed a perfect choice in regard to both preferences.

Once inside the room, Rita made a beeline for the shelf she had visited last time she had a library shift - the one with books pertaining to magic and 'occult' matters. The last time Rita was here, she had been interrupted before getting far in her reading, and so this time she hoped to learn something of value. She quickly grabbed a few books and took them to a table.

The top item in the small stack seemed to be about 'witchcraft'. That seemed as good a place as any to start. It had quite a few sections on spellcasting, which was precisely what Rita was looking for. Before long, the mage became absorbed in the book, oblivious to the world around her.

[affictitious]

That conversation had gotten nowhere fast, less like a train falling off a cliff and more like a train... without wheels. Though he would've enjoyed a conversation with a little more crashing a burning; at least he would have had some entertainment to spice up an already dull day. Dull was dull. Incredibly, lucidly dull. Gabriel might have even preferred more hair-zombie-ghosts over the infantile activities provided during the day.

He picked the library out of the two choices if only for the chance of there being something to be had there. (Spoiler: there wasn't.) The selection was confined to what he supposed were considered the classics, though they were still fairly new in his estimation of time. He'd caught sight of Castiel pouring over some book, but hung back from that potential conversation less from the ghost-encounter-thing and more from the fact he was holding a copy of the Holy Bible.

No way. Not on his free time.

Another option that presented itself was the witch, who was... doin' her thing, clearly, if her reading choice was any indication. "Heeeey. It's... you!" he said with a hint of theatrics, plopping in a chair next to her. The pile she'd selected pointed to one particular subject. He hadn't known witches were all out in the open with their hobbies now. "I see you're doin' your witch thing. How's that working out for you?"

[piggy-king.livejournal.com]

Why, oh why did Porky's nurse insist on sending him to the library? Did "old" automatically equal "likes reading?" Who even came up with that? Grumbling, Porky hobbled into the library and plopped down into the first chair he saw, pouting with his arms crossed. Life just wasn't fair for someone as kind-hearted and generous as Porky.

After a few minutes of pouting and overall lamenting his horrible fate, Porky decided that just sitting around wouldn't be good for anything, strange as the idea may have seemed a few minutes earlier, and rose up to go look for that book that he had read last week. "Surprise, surprise..." Porky mumbled when he saw it wasn't there. Looks like sitting around miserably was the only thing Porky would be able to do.

Plopping back down in the chair he had futilely risen from, Porky lamented his poor fortune and hoped that someone would come along to end his misery.

[Yar-har-fiddle-dee-dee, waiting for a pi-rate!]

[heroesdontshave]

Apparently, Snow's little display yesterday had put him on some kind of "to be watched constantly" list or something. He was being escorted by that same lady nurse-guard and one of those bigger guy ones, who just followed behind to keep an eye on him. It was weird being escorted like this. No restraints or guns involved, but they expected him to just follow along anyway. He glanced over his shoulder to eye the additional guard. He could have taken him down easily, he was sure. But he thought the same thing yesterday. Despite not looking that strong or fast, they had been able to grab hold of him and restrain him with just two people. There was definitely something different about the people here. Not that he was afraid of them or anything.

The lady brought his attention back, saying something about relaxing and being quiet and whatever else. Look, just cause he had to go along with them didn't mean he had to listen to them, right? He still wasn't happy having to walk around playing the obedient prisoner. But he'd already made a resolution to go with the flow until it got dark again. In the meantime, he'd just scope the place out. This new room he was being led into was strange enough to warrant a closer look anyway.

The place struck him as a kind of very uncomfortable-looking lounge area with bizarre furniture. More than that though were the shelves. It seemed like those were the focal point of the room since they were kinda everywhere. But rather than storing gadgets and accessories, they were... books? Snow wandered over to one of the shelves, curiosity pretty much sending his previous caution out the window. He pulled one of the things out carefully, inspecting the whole thing before finally opening it. Wow. It really was a book. Like a real book, with paper and everything. He'd seen one or two in the display windows of some shops before, trophies the owners wanted to show off. What the heck was this stuff doing in a place like this? There were antique stores that'd pay a bundle to get their hands on just a fraction of this room's contents.

Being almost painfully careful, Snow slowly flipped through pages, not really paying any attention to the content itself. He had to be careful because these things were supposed to be delicate. One wrong pull or push and the thing rips and then... well, then you've pretty much ruined the whole thing. And he did not have the money to pay for something like this. ...Maybe he should put it down then.

[for Edgar]

[girlsandgadgets]

So it was true: Raphael really was gone. Edgar ran a hand through his hair as he followed his nurse through the Sun Room. Another ally gone, one he'd imagined was strong enough to resist anything Landel threw at him; however, it seemed Landel wasn't above disposing of those who opposed him too sharply. Raphael's "release" wasn't the first sign of that- there was the ruined town, as well as the warnings from the radio broadcasts. He'd already proven himself a man who enjoyed torture; murder wasn't beyond the realm of believability.

Edgar sighed. At least he'd made some progress. Feigning ill, the nurse had allowed him to sleep through breakfast- the moment she'd left him, he got to work on some of his alterations to the stringed trimmer, packing it away in his closet before she returned for the second shift. Along with his new toy, the night had granted him a familiar ally: Locke. While he regretted missing the chance to catch the treasure hunter during the first meal, Edgar needed to make up for lost time. He rubbed his shoulder under the sling- still sore, but faring better than the day before. Perhaps his good fortune would continue and he could find his friend before the next shift.

Locke was nowhere to be seen in the Sun Room, so Edgar followed his nurse into the library. It was busier than his last visit- he gave a nod to Anise as he headed down one of the aisles. There, he spotted another familiar face: the rebel from the day before. His passion had been refreshing, even if a little unrestrained for the tact needed in Landel's.

Edgar approached him with a smile, noting the curious way he was handling the book in his hands. "It's not going fall apart that easily," he noted, taking Tarzan the Untamed from the shelf.