Day 52: Intercom, Evening

[damned-intercom.livejournal.com]

The intercom jingle was slightly different for this shift, almost as if it had gone up in quality. The Head Doctor gave a sigh of relief, his own voice clear as a bell despite the usual electronic buzz.

"Hello, everyone – from our new and improved intercom system! We've had electronics rehauling our circuitry, and you can hear the result quite nicely! A whole bunch of improvement! Right, anyway...

"As I'm sure you've noticed, we have a whole new bunch of patients that have joined us recently, and because of the changes in our roster, we've updated our roommate assignments, so some of you might be enjoying the company of someone entirely new tonight! Please be polite and friendly to anyone you might encounter!

"Which brings us to... dinner! Tonight, we'll be having a delicious 'bento box' meal consisting of fish and vegetable tempura along with chicken teriyaki, a bowl of steamed rice, miso soup, salad, and... green tea! Decaffeinated, of course. We can't have you bouncing from wall to wall when there's sleep to be had! Our usual assorted drinks and alternative meals are also available. Oh, and... dessert! Green tea ice cream, with a topping of red bean paste.

"I think that's all for now! I'll speak to you once more before bed time."

The intercom clicked off.

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. Please refer to the updated room assignments before posting. Thank you! ]

Comments

M27

[darwinism]

Sylar was in a damn good mood, one of the best he'd ever had ever since he got tossed in this dead-end drag of a multidimensional nuthouse. Even the prospect of spending dinner with Spock wasn't getting him down, not with the tool that he'd so neatly added to his collection today. He wasn't about to overestimate his strength – a fatal flaw that he'd made here in the past – but it was one very big step in a beautifully big direction. Peter, Claire, Elle – none of them would see him coming until he was too close to stop. More than that, he could be clever, subversive. He could use Peter's friendly face to get juicy tidbits about his personal life and his efforts against the Institute, all exactly the kind of ammo that Sylar could put to use in his own plans. Even better? He could start trying to get around the memory gap between him and the blondies, figure out exactly what he was meant to accomplish back home and how he could use it against them.

Damn good mood.

The fact that Spock wasn't around when Sylar stepped into their shared room made him all the more chipper. Japanese night? Perfect: he could picture Hiro Nakamura and 'Peter' sharing a meal just before he stabbed the little teleporter through the gut – see how he liked it.

He dropped himself into his desk chair and rested his hands behind his head. Tonight... might actually go according to plan.

Re: M27

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

The chess game from last shift had certainly been interesting. It had been a long time since he had encountered an individual who could put up such a challenge; in fact, since receiving his Grandmaster title, Spock played with a computer more often than not because it was one of the few opponents that was guaranteed to give an optimal performance every time (so long as it was functioning properly). Yet Kirk had managed to exceed his expectations in almost every way, to the point that his invitation to play together had ultimately ended in a draw.

A "mean game" of chess indeed, Spock thought to himself as the nurse escorted him to his room. Perhaps they would have the opportunity for a rematch in the near future.

Yet as stimulating as that experience had been, Spock had not forgotten other troubling matters -- more specifically, the arrival of Lieutenant Uhura, and the implications of it. There was much for him to do, such as making certain she was armed as soon as possible. Spock wondered if there would come a time when other members of their crew would appear as well, but it would do little good to speculate about such issues at this point.

For now he would need to sit through another dinner period with Gabriel. It appeared that this time he would not even get a few moments to himself, as his roommate was already in his seat by the time he arrived. Within moments, the nurse had put a tray of food on his desk. "We replaced the fish with some tofu tempura, Mr. Penn, and we used a vegan alternative when making the chicken teriyaki. I do hope you enjoy it!"

Spock gave a curt nod to acknowledge he understood. Soon, the nurse had left him and Gabriel to themselves, the door locked in place as soon as she closed it.

He glanced toward Gabriel, taking note of his physical condition. The human did not appear any worse off than he had yesterday, and perhaps even came across as somewhat more cheerful than he had over the past several days. The change in his demeanor was rather unexpected, to say the least, yet Spock had been here long enough to know appearances did not account for everything.

"You seem pleased," Spock observed, neutral as always, while he began cutting his teriyaki dish into precise, even pieces.

F4

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

It had been a long day.

A long, long… long day.

It could've been worse, Yuffie reminded herself sharply, as she slipped into the now horribly familiar trappings of F4. Her growing collection of origami shapes and animals sat, (blindingly) colorful and welcoming on her desk; her clothes were tucked away in her wardrobe; her shuriken was safely under the bed, and—

— and there was a sword under her blankets.

"The hell?"

No, it wasn't… It wasn't just any sword, Yuffie discovered, as she jumped up and tore back the sheets she'd just sat down on. Of course it wasn't just 'any' sword; weapons didn't fall into people's laps around here. It was her sword, the one she'd lent to Cloud. But, how…? … Oh. Oh. "Man, what an idiot," she said to herself. Leavin' his sword behind like that—how careless could you get?

He'd deserve the worry, too, when he figured out what he'd done. Yuffie didn't like the thought of any of her teammates wandering around the institute unarmed, even between the patient blocks, but for tossing her around and dropping a mattress on her..!

Cloud would just have to suck it up and deal. And then, maybe he'd come crawling to her for forgiveness, and, ha, after that little stunt, she wouldn't be handing over sword or pardon so easily.

Yeah, like that'd ever happen. It was still a nice dream, though, and Yuffie kept it in mind as she moved over to her desk to eat and finish up her notes.

M73

[stlg13bomber.livejournal.com]

Carter wasn't sure what the odd stuff on his dinner tray tonight was, but it was definitely unAmerican. There were long crunchy things that upon dissection appeared to be deep-fried vegetables, soup with cubes floating it, and a large bowl of rice as if they were Japanese rather than regular people.

And green tea ice cream? With beans? That had to be against the Geneva Prisoner of War convention.

"Boy, you know who's really crazy? The kitchen staff," Carter joked as he prodded a piece of chicken teriyaki with his fork. "You really think anyone eats this stuff?" At least it smelled good. He would have to try it, for the sake of multiculturalism and his stomach.

Italian games, Jap meals, and British professors. Carter wondered how the Future kept everyone's culture straight.

Re: M73

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

Oh, Japanese food? England had to admit that that sounded much more reasonable as food than the greasy American rubbish that they had been serving for the most part. He rather liked Japanese food. it was light but filling and he'd always been fond of fish. He and Japan shared certain of the same tastes. it probably came of being islands.

And the reaction of his roommate made him smile, just a little, as he began to tuck into the food. "Oh, they eat this in Japan. It's rather good to be fair. Not quite the same as fish and chips, but rather pleasant. The ice-cream too. You'll be surprised."

M42

[scalyfishman.livejournal.com]

So why the Pit hadn't Hime gotten back to him yet? Even with a little chat with S.T. under his belt, Depth Charge still found himself skulking back to his room under cover of his own personal LBC: Little Black Cloud. And this wasn't even your regular cumulonimbus, either, this was the fine, irritated, pollutant stuff. He couldn't work out why it was bothering him- it wasn't like she was difficult to miss, there were enough blonde women in the Institute that she'd probably just flown under his radar- but it was.

And so, the Maximal descended on his room with the silent heaviness of a stealth bomber, albeit one that made a beeline for its set of drawers and dragged out its two-way radio. Even so, he hesitated as his fingers played over the buttons; should he wait until after dinner? Like it or not, there was a slim chance that someone's favourite Nurse Busybody would come knocking just as he buzzed her up, and that situation could only end in both of them getting their slag confiscated. He had to wait.

So patience was a virtue after all. Depth Charge tossed the radio back into the drawer with a loud, aggravated sigh and dropped back in his chair, head back, feet swept up onto the desktop, rubbing both hands across his eyes. Primus. His nerves were getting shot to pieces, and all over one stupid girl. Hadn't heard that song in a while. Still, maybe it wasn't just Hime. There was the fact that he hadn't seen Lugnut around, too, or Forte... tch. So much for not turning into a babysitter.

[scarefaux]

His conversations with Mele, Scar, and the kitten aside, the Scarecrow felt he hadn't accomplished much during the day. He had done an awful lot of thinking, more about the Special Counseling and the Sleep Studies than a man without a brain should have. He'd already resolved he wasn't going to find his body- not anytime soon, at least. Nobody even knew where the entrance to the third floor was, and he couldn't figure it out without his brain.

To get anywhere, he needed to find his diploma, but he wasn't sure he could without a brain to begin with- his human one didn't work as well as he'd hoped, and the Wizard Landel's tampering only made it worse. The more he thought about it, the more he considered that Dr. Venkman's diploma might not even help him, given that it wasn't his doctorate in Thinkology. He'd have to try again another night- there was no use in giving up yet.

His mind still working overtime, the Scarecrow gave his nurse a goodnight nod as he stepped into the room, just in time to see Depth Charge toss his radio into his chair and take a seat- he looked even more worn than Scar. Hopefully, he wasn't rubbing his eyes because he'd been stricken blind. "You don't look at all well, Depth Charge," he remarked, setting his tray on his desk and heading to his roommate's side. "Are you all right?"

f34

[vitale.livejournal.com]

By the time dinner rolled around, Bella was exhausted not only physically, but mentally. The day had started off fine - she had spoken to Laura and spent a little time in the Sun Room ... but lunch had just thrown her completely off, and now she was feeling the aftershock.

Sighing when she entered the room, she was somewhat relieved to not see Claire there yet. She wanted to be alone for a few minutes to compose herself, and she rubbed her fingertips over her eyes to try and calm herself down. She had to mentally prepare for what exactly was going to happen tonight. What she knew so far was that Venom was going to come and take her to Edward (which she still didn't like. At all. She was not a child, and therefore didn't want to be treated like one.) ... that was, if she stayed behind and waited for him. But really.

Still, either way, she was going to see Edward. ... And maybe something else.

Bella knew Edward had lost a lot of blood last night, and was most likely upon the edges of starvation. Obviously, she couldn't have that - she'd have to get blood for him somehow. Could she sneak her way up to the Chapel, like she had been told about? And even if she made it, how would she get the blood?

Sighing, the teenager allowed her face to drop into her hands, her eyes shutting tightly. She could do this; everything would be fine come nightfall, and even though she had a feeling Edward would be infuriated at her with whatever decision she chose, she honestly didn't care. She'd been through worse.

[autophoenix.livejournal.com]

Luckily, by the time she was being guided back to her room for dinner, Claire had mostly put the problems that Elle's meeting with Sylar had caused behind her. She'd done a good job of convincing herself that she probably didn't need to go seek Elle out to protect her, but rather, should probably find Peter to tell him about what had happened to Elle while they were busy before. That way, it wouldn't happen again. Hopefully. None of them needed to be caught alone by Sylar in the dead of night. Not when most of them had already had the bad experience of having it happen before.

She smiled at Bella as she came into the room with her dinner tray, setting it down at her desk but not looking altogether too interested in touching it. It took a split second for her to realize her roommate wasn't looking like her usual bubbly and optimistic self. Food long forgotten, she grabbed the chair from her desk and dragged it over to the side of Bella's bed, taking a seat and reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, you okay?"

M110

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

Man, how'd he manage to pass out for that long? He'd just decided to sit down in the Sun Room instead of screwing around with the Library, 'cause he didn't like books, and then next moment? The nurse lady was waking him up, saying it was time to go back to their rooms! Man, that was a waste of time! Oh well. He could still go out and bust things up tonight, 'specially if Renamon was around.

And hey, food he actually recognized! Actually recognized recognized, not 'oh yeah that guy who wasn't me who I was for a day knew what that stuff was' sort of recognized. He hated that feeling, like someone else was in his head, even though that personality transplant thing hadn't happened again. It'd scared his friends and, if he was going to admit it, it'd scared him. He was gonna find who'd done that and tear 'em to pieces! ...But there was a good chance that person was the Landel guy, and he didn't even know where that creep was. Ah well. That wouldn't stop him. Until then, he'd work with Renamon and whoever else wanted to help to figure things out.

M110

[angeritself.livejournal.com]

It had not escaped Shizuo (and that in itself was remarkable), the way the nurse's eyes were, basically, glued to him. He hadn't connected the dots as to why--that his two doses of sedation having finally worn off during the previous shift made him again dangerous. It annoyed him, the way she kept looking, but at least she wasn't talking. That his previous hour had been spent in the dwindling sun, with Celty, had improved his mood. Lucky for both the nurse and him.

Without incident, then, they arrived at the room, the door opening onto an interior that looked utterly undisturbed. As if he hadn't torn it apart that morning. Which did not, actually, bother him, as between the sedation and his typical hazy memory of events when enraged, he barely remembered doing it.

"I'm sure you and Derek will get along nicely," the woman said, skepticism rising audibly into the last of it. The quick retreat she beat didn't help things, but Shizuo didn't pay much attention. There had been a second bed, and now there was another guy in the room. Shizuo looked at him, expression wobbling between vacant and mild, before he walked over to his closet and swung open the door.

Still no suits.

He inhaled slowly, beginning to mutter, "Bastardsbastardsbastardsbastards--"

It had been a long time-- hell, had it ever happened? Since trying to control himself had worked this well. Saying it, more than repetition ever had before, really put a lid on it. It was surprising enough that he stopped, wondering at the curious fade of overpowering rage as he sat in front of the dinner that was obviously his. Milk and rice, too. He barely felt irritated, what in the...


[ooc: 1) tl;dr ... 2) possible Celty retcon, pending! ]

M64

[arc-wrench.livejournal.com]

"Sarcasm: Oh joy, a new variety of meatbag fuel to ingest! I can barely contain my excitement at this prospect of shoving organic glop into my intake valve," HK complained, in full irritation mode as he was led back to his cell. He was not pleased that his nurse still possessed her sanity, and he intended to fix that oversight. "Query: So, why do you persist? I'll refuse to like it. I do refuse to like it. And I refuse to find any redeeming qualities in you. Go away, meatbag." He made a remarkably dismissive expression, despite his face acting as if it were a fixed mask as always, eyes carrying across all the contempt and hints of sadistic satisfaction that he needed.

"...Concession: Well, yes, I like it when chocolate is provided, but chocolate does not count!" Damn that meatbag, using chocolate against him! It forced him to employ the secondary tactic of Sullen Look until the meatbag left. Oh well. At least he would soon be able to go kill something!

M95

[loyal-soldier.livejournal.com]

It still felt vaguely uncomfortable to be led to a different cell than the one he'd had for weeks. He supposed that was part of the point, but why had they let him keep all his things, especially his weapons? Were they really that confident that no one in the facility was a threat to them? It seemed like a massive oversight, as far as he was concerned. it felt like arrogance of a kind he couldn't really grasp. Why take the risk? Was it simply to try and impress upon the prisoners that nothing they did could matter? It would be an effective tactic, but he wasn't about to admit that it might actually work on him.

He tried to shake off his unsettled feelings by digging into his food, some sort of local meal he'd never seen before. It was certainly different from most of the stuff that was served to inmates here, not quite as heavy and filling, but at least it was still tasty. Although admittedly he wasn't the best judge of taste for anything...

M53

[tartaros-avatar.livejournal.com]

Recluse completely ignored his nurse as she chattered away, devoting his attention to writing ciphered plans in his notebook in his usual spiky, practiced script. He would have to make sure he had the supplies he needed for where he planned to go tonight. He had never explored that area outside of the institute, and what he had been told through the message board was quite interesting. Maybe he could find something truly of use tonight.

He almost didn't notice when the nurse left, beyond a general sense of relief that the pointless noise had finally ceased. Yes, tonight would certainly be interesting, whatever happened...

M88

[heraldric.livejournal.com]

Oh hey, something different for dinner! It looked like they'd taken some of the complaints of the other patients to heart. There was just one problem, and that problem was that the meal still didn't contain carrot juice. You'd think if they were going to start listening to requests then the nurse would have maybe brought a glass just for him. So what if none of the other patients liked it? It wasn't a hideously expensive drink or anything (or maybe it was in this world - who knew?).

Leon didn't complain out loud to the woman, though. Not yet. Maybe if further concessions were made to individual patients that didn't include him... but then it would just look like he was whining about fairness. So really, he wouldn't win either way. And why should he be bothering with hoping for niceties from the staff when there were so many other important things to be worrying about?

He sighed as he dug into his meal. His favorite drink would help him feel more refreshed after creating weapons, anyway.

M60

[tsunagari.livejournal.com]

If Sai ever looked forward to anything, then he was looking forward to tonight's dinner. He could hear it being mentioned over the intercom as he was walked back to his room, and it caused him to raise an eyebrow in surprise. That was a dinner they hadn't really gotten here before, and it added a little touch of home that would have been more pleasant if the general location wasn't still the same.

He'd enjoy it, he supposed, but he couldn't allow himself to become even the slightest bit complacent here. The moment he let himself be comfortable, everything would be brought crashing down on him. It was how this place worked. He should have gotten in contact with his teammates earlier in the day, especially since he hadn't seen any notes from them.

His dessert was set aside as he entered and started on his meal. Honey wasn't there yet, but this wasn't anything new. It was worrisome after he hadn't shown at all the night before, but Sai wasn't dismissing him yet. Hopefully he'd walk in soon and claim the treat to add to his own.

M28

[justthedealer.livejournal.com]

A bento, huh? Remy could do Japanese, but... "How 'bout some good old fashioned Cajun gumbo, chere? Welcome me proper on my first day." His nurse all but ignored him, rolling her eyes a little as he was taken back to the same room he'd woken up in that morning. Apparently he was to be held in there for the night.

He gave it five minutes, tops. Of course it would be difficult finding out when the coast was clear, and his loss of abilities wasn't helping anything either. But he was a LeBeau, a thief of the highest caliber - arguably the best, if you asked him. If anyone could find a way to escape this place, then he could. Since Wolverine apparently couldn't claw his way to freedom, they'd have to rely on someone with actual skill.

For now, he'd bide his time and eat his dinner. If he had a roommate, then he needed to learn about him first thing. After all, things would get a whole lot more difficult if it was a plant.

M28

[fightandforget.livejournal.com]

No, his roommate was no plant, but by the way he'd simply laid there and slept all day, one would think him a vegetable. He hadn't shown any signs of consciousness for hours, and if one didn't know better, it would be reasonable to assume he was just dead.

Technically, he should have been dead. His whole world was being vaporized right in front of him, devoured by some endless cloud of death, and Dias had been swept up into it as well. He should have been space dust, right? That was what would have made the most sense; it was what he expected. So when he opened his eyes, taking in the dull ceiling and drab walls, he wasn't sure what to think. Was the afterlife supposed to be so... boring? And why did it all smell so sterile? It reminded him of the medical room on the Lacour base.

With that thought, he sat up, turning quickly to look around. The room was dull and antiseptic, but it was not what the swordsman had in mind. Nowhere on the base was any room like this, and there was no way the afterlife for him was to be some monotonous hospital. And who the hell was that man in the room with him? It was no face he recognized, and thus, it was a face he didn't trust.

"What the hell is this?" he grumbled, more to himself than to his roommate. Despite so much sleep, he still felt so tired, so sluggish. He had to get out of here-- wherever here was --and figure out what was going on. The war wasn't over yet; he had no time to waste around here. Groping at his hip for his sword, Dias froze, feeling nothing but cloth where the hilt of his prized weapon should be. A sudden anger rushed through him, half the irritation of being stolen from and half the panic of a man cornered in a strange place with no means of defending himself.

"This isn't funny!" he shouted, standing up and casting a scathing glare around the room. As his eyes locked on to Remy, he transferred his ire to the stranger. "You! What the hell is going on here?"

Maybe it would have been easier if his roommate was just a plant.

M31

[kingside]

It was a very bleary-eyed Lelouch that made his way through the door at the start of dinner, even if he was making a valiant effort to keep this fact hidden from his nurse. Three shifts-- had he really spent three shifts asleep? He could barely even remember it, and now...

He sat down a little heavily at his desk and massaged his temples, blatantly ignoring his nurse as she nagged at him to eat the food already laid out before him. If he were to be perfectly frank with himself, all he really wanted to do then was crawl into the lumpy, uncomfortable bed just a few feet away from him and sleep even more, but that was no way to plot his escape from this place. He had to... do something. Focus. It was bad enough that he had missed the opportunity to check up on Nunnally; he had to do something.

Eventually, his nurse left, and almost mechanically, he set his journal out in front of him and began flipping the pages.

M31

[swornandbroken.livejournal.com]

As beneath him as it might have been to consider making two potentially useful contacts a good day's work (he should have been doing so much more), Mello was reasonably pleased at having achieved that much. S.T. in particular seemed to have a good investigative streak, and had pointed those skills at cracking the same problem Mello needed to.

Of course, now he had to deal with Annoying Roommate and a high probability of being stuck alone once the doors unlocked. No, that was nothing to be irritated about: alone was better. And Annoying Roommate looked wrung-out. Mello perched on his desk to eat, as usual, and gave him a sidelong, appraising glance.

"Writing a novel, in all your free time?"

M9

[thirdboywonder.livejournal.com]

Tim was a little annoyed by the room change. Luckily, he'd been able to post on the bulletin board for Ollie. But if Ollie didn't see it, well, there wasn't much he could do about it. He hoped the other vigilante was doing all right so far. He'd only had one night here, which probably wasn't that bad, but still. At the rate people disappeared around here, you couldn't be too sure.

He wondered what was so great about the new intercom, or if they were trying to hide some other development instead. He couldn't tell what he thought about it.

Dinner sounded surprisingly good, though, so figured he'd eat some before he headed out. Hopefully he wouldn't sleep through the night like he'd been doing recently. He was sick of not getting anywhere.

Re: M9

[cannotlogout.livejournal.com]

They hadn't let him into the games room. He'd spent so much time in the Sun Room and it was boring and would it really kill them to let him play some video games for a while? Even if it was old 8-bit stuff that had been wildly out of date by the time Tsukasa was even born. But apparently the nurses didn't want him going anywhere near a computer. Said it might make his delusions worse.

It was stupid. He'd never pretend to be a fat Italian plumber, online or off.

He was still a little bit annoyed when he got back to his room, and he paused in the doorway, not recognising the person inside. Another boy. This was awkward. "Um, hi?"

M94

[idkmybfframen.livejournal.com]

Naruto was actually excited by the idea of dinner. Finally, they were having something that he knew what it was! He didn't care about new intercoms or anything like that. Right now, he cared about tempura!

Anyway, he had to eat right if he was going to keep up his strength running around out there tonight, right? Seemed like a good plan to him!

M96

[godforsaken]

Wasted opportunities was something Sync never liked dealing with, so when the night's promising beginning dissolved as day cam prematurely the God-General found himself understandably annoyed. Maybe there was something about the latter's presence that made it impossible to get things done, so if that were the case then spending a few nights away from the pink-eyed nuisance would do him some good.

Sync had spent much of his day to himself, mentally plotting out what should be explored and how many stages. For the moment there wasn't much to delve into, though the basement was increasingly becoming a popular thought. There had to be more to it than that, and it seemed practical enough to investigate at some point.

When his nurse escorted him back to his room he took his spot on the edge of the bed, waiting for the woman to give him his meal and leave before eating. All the while his mind continued to wander, though not so much that he wouldn't notice when his roommate arrived. Was there any point to replacing the 'electronic' system? Maybe not, but they'd probably find out later on tonight if that really were the case.

Re: M96

[falseblack]

Ludicrous described the general sequence of events, but Nigredo had resolved himself to keep the twins' affairs untouched. Even in the face of animosity, it was no longer his place to dictate their actions or to extend his hand between them. Barring that incident in the Sun Room, barring certain death, he would allow them to war as freely as they wanted. For one, Albedo richly deserved it. It was, after all, his life that would end.

For another, Nigredo forfeited the right the moment Executioner was known by both brothers. He was already in a delicate position in regards to Rubedo and Albedo. There was nothing to say things would not shift from one thoughtless action on his part, regardless of what the middle variant would claim. And he didn't want guaranteed rejection if he could help it. He would rather they stay strangers than he become something worthless in their eyes.

It didn't matter if he secretly thought the latter was true.

Thus, even when a brother was escorted to solitary, he continued his day. Even as both ends of the link hummed with life, the boy left his brothers alone. Instead, he entered his room wordlessly for dinner, offering Sync a disinterested look before taking his place on the bed.

M22

[composers.livejournal.com]

Aside from the strange, and rather uninformative, exchange during breakfast, Austria's day was more pleasant than what he had to face yesterday. It certainly could be better (for one, if he'd just forgone this experience altogether) but at this point being picky with his surroundings would only bring more weight to the overall burden. After all, there were other things to worry about, and he was soon beginning to realize that.

There was much the aristocrat couldn't understand. Such a simplistic place this institute was, and yet he'd come across technology he'd never even fathomed before. He wasn't entirely sure where much of it originated, and there was some regret in not asking. However, it wasn't just that. Even now he could make note of others, and that conversations he'd been fortunate enough to stumble upon were less questionable than the insane should be. In fact, many seemed quite sane, but it could very well be blamed on poor acting.

Along with that he'd not come across Prussia at all, which was a relief in itself, but almost uncharacteristic given the circumstances. For a brief moment his mind wandered back to the other nation's words, though he soon found himself shaking it off as nothing more.

And so there he sat on his bed, eying his food with some apprehension, but in the end he'd rather not waste his meals.

Re: M22

[scavengerbird.livejournal.com]

Zevran was only partially present as he chatted with his nurse. He was considering his latest decision, and the subsequent assignment that had come of it. The History Club presented itself as a desirable connection, but it was also a gamble, and Zevran was not the sort to take dangerous risks unless he was desperate (which he often was). He would need to make a swift and positive impression tonight. The goal would have to be progress and unity with his fellow recruits, to demonstrate that he was capable and cooperative.

Interrupting his thoughts, his nurse had started to ask him about where he was from. However, she quickly decided against the subject. The conversation had ended awkwardly with her reminding him sternly that the memories he had recounted were false, which Zevran thought was a perfectly reasonable excuse to let his opinion of the woman slip. Still, he laughed and promised she would be the first to know if he ever managed to recall the stories she wished to hear. Their questions were just a test, of course. They didn't want to know anything about him, they only wanted to catch him in a delusion to scold him. Unfortunately, Zevran didn't feel informed enough to fake his identity. He was at a terrible disadvantage.

"Goodnight, Zacharias," she said stubbornly, smiling at him in a pitying way. She then gestured for him to enter the door she had just opened, and he obliged.

"It would be much better if you joined me," he purred. Flirtation was a passable distraction from his growing impatience. "In fact, I may even come to appreciate that name you keep using if I hear it called properly."

The woman looked scandalized, and Zevran was overcome by the urge to laugh. He felt obligated to keep up the act, though, and held back everything save for a wide grin. It only encouraged his amusement when he realized that the room was already occupied. Sadly, the nurse used his momentary distraction to wish him another curt goodnight and close the door, leaving him to his dinner and roommate.

"Ah, but it seems as though I am not alone. My apologies," he laughed, with plenty of humor but sparse sincerity. Zevran was impressed once again by the frequency of attractive people in this place. If they had indeed all been kidnapped, then this Landel had refined tastes indeed.

The man that was seated on the bed was a delicate looking fellow, with dark hair and lily white skin. He held himself like nobility, which seemed to fit his features. He was mostly pretty, but also a bit handsome. Like some of the others Zevran had seen running about, he was wearing a strange device over his eyes. Zevran expected to be disliked already, but he could not deny that he had been given a beautiful individual to share this space with. Perhaps if he played his cards right, with a bit of luck this could turn into a favorable arrangement. It seemed unlikely, but could hope, couldn't he?

F21

[no-dont-go.livejournal.com]

Aigis was not hungry. She made that quiet clear when she got to her room and promptly shoved her tray from her desk to the ground. The nurse accompanying her frowned, but set about cleaning up the mess. Normally, she would have been interested in the food. It had looked familiar to what her friends often ate back home. However, she did not have the stomach or the patience for it. Not tonight.

Instead, she just grabbed her new stuffed cat doll, Schrodinger, and lay down on her bed. She turned to the wall and hugged the doll in her arms. It was a reminder for her. Something Heat had given her. That kind man that had witnessed her power. Now her witness was gone. Surely she would get a chance to prove herself again. Surely she would wake up tomorrow like before, and continue on as she had before now. Only he would be gone.

She had Minato. That should make her happy. She could survive enough with just him. She had Junpei, too. Utena, Rei, a few others. She could cling to this existence with them here to ground her. But it was somehow not the same.

She knew she wouldn't easily forget him. He was the first one she had met here, as well as the first to say she was 'human.' It would not be the same without him. And she would not be the same, not for a while. She didn't even feel like fighting tonight. She just wanted to shut down and forget this place. This place. It could be heaven or hell or something in between. Right now, it felt like hell. Or something worse. It felt like nothing.

M30

[toxicspiderman]

S.T. threw his notebook on the table, recycled map on top. Dinner looked authentic -- unidentifiable white fish with a batter almost as pale-faced as the meat, and what were either sweet potatoes or carrots on steroids.

Scratch that last thought. He wanted a trade-off free dinner. Next time the suggestions went up he'd post some. Because either the Head Bastard just wanted to share his takeout, or he'd been listening to the accusations of discrimination. He sat down on the bed and balanced dinner on his knees. The soup even had little bits of seaweed and tofu floating in it. It wasn't anything like being home, but he chased them around the bowl anyway with a spoon.

F9

[mugenreppa.livejournal.com]

Soma wasn't here yet. Mele went to sit at her desk, but, restless, she got up to pace instead, but, restless with the pacing, huffily flounced on the bed.

Ow! Mele bounced up, and lifted the covers. What the heck? ...Oh yeah, the ring. Good thing the nurse hadn't seen it and taken it. What was Yakitori doing with some old ring, anyway? It didn't even have a gem or anything in it. Whatever, she'd taunt him with it the next time she saw him. Tossing the ring into the drawer she put her scalpel in, Mele returned to pacing.

Throughout the entire day (and most of last night), she'd firmly thought to herself that she'd deal with everything later, but it was now 'later' and she had no idea how she would deal with it all. Soma, then Yumeno, not to mention Scarecrow and Taura, and even Yakushiji and Niikura from yesterday. What was she supposed to do?

Re: F9

[madeinthehrl]

I'm sorry to have caused you such trouble, said Marie quietly as she (they) followed the nurse back to their room. And Soma knew that despite her joy this afternoon, the apology was genuine. It was clear by now. Soma might have been the one in charge of her body now, but Marie didn't hold grudges.

It isn't your fault, she admitted grudgingly, and left it at that as the door opened.

Her roommate was already there, and Soma paused on the threshold, uncertain. She'd sounded worried on the bulletin board; she'd tried to stop the orderlies last night (at least, Soma thought she had; everything before she woke up in the experimental room was a vague blur).

"...Mele."

F16

[fourstonewalls]

Boxed dinner. How...familiar. That woman had spent two years finding excuses to hang around the offices; green tea and bento had become synonymous with uncomfortable conversations. Why couldn't she leave it? Why couldn't any of them leave it alone -- she'd thought Bruce had, but what else could have caused -- well, she'd find out soon.

Whereas this dinner should be her lone opportunity to talk about something -- anything -- else. Tonight wouldn't be a good night to introduce Ilia to Ema; as much as she would prefer to sidetrack her, she'd already agreed to this. Tomorrow. Tomorrow would need even more of a distraction, and the odds of her letting Lana provide it seemed slim.

She laid her notebook down perfectly aligned with the food, and wrapped both hands around the tea. It was warm, and her eyes slid closed as she inhaled the delicate perfume and all its associations.

F16

[avengingfists.livejournal.com]

Ilia's time in the Sun Room had been well spent stretching and mentally preparing herself. She felt better about going out for the night, she knew her reflexes would be quicker and her mind would be in the right place. However, the cut still bothered her. She would be slow, even if her instincts were likely to kick in faster. And adrenaline would only get her so far...

Well, she'd worry about that when night was upon her. Until then, she'd enjoy her dinner. It looked so cute in its little box! How quaint! She wasn't quite familiar with all the trimmings, but it was distinctly asian. She was always willing to try something new. And green tea! Wow, that was something unexpected! Still, it wasn't alcohol. She was really missing her booze after two days of deprivation.

She started with the miso soup--something she was familiar with--and turned to Lana with a smile. "So, how was your day, Lana?"

She really did feel much better just knowing Roak had been saved. For now, she could breathe, even if there wasn't much to be happy about here. At least she could keep her smile up for everyone else. Sometimes all that was needed to boost moral was just a little sunshine.

M7

[lighthearted]

Sora returned to his room feeling energized and confident about the coming night. He had gotten all of the assignments worked out for the rest of the club, and while he hadn't been able to make perfect groups of three, he got the feeling that the pairs would work just as well. He'd made sure to put the member he knew the least about with Riku, so that his friend could give him his opinion of Mihai later. As for the others, he was happy to let them pair off how they wanted; he just hoped that at least one group had a successful night.

When he entered M7, Sora found it empty; there was no Hanatarou, he knew, but also no Bridget. He forced back any concern for the moment, knowing that he could have easily just made it back first. As he set his journal aside and took a seat at his desk, however, he was greeted with a meal he'd eaten a week ago.

A week ago, when he'd thought he was Matthew. He remembered looking at this food and thinking that it was familiar, whereas now the breading and the sauce was more foreign to his palate. A whole week had passed since he'd thought he was a different person, but just the knowledge that it had happened was unsettling.

Slowly, Sora forced himself to eat more of his dinner as he waited for his new roommate to show up. He didn't want to hold any grudges against Bridget for replacing Hanatarou, and so he did his best to look forward to the sound of the door opening. He had to stay in a good mood. He'd be meeting with Neku and Soma tonight and working to get things done, and he had a whole club depending on him. He'd be fine.

F20

[willing-sheath.livejournal.com]

With the sound of the intercom coming alive again Tomoe soon found Anna returning to collect her. It had been a long day full of nothing but more and more confusion and constant crowds when all she desperately wanted was solitude. It was a relief when she realized she was being lead back to the room she'd originally woken in--at least in there she knew that another dozen people couldn't be crammed in there with her.

She was, indeed, relieved to see that the room was empty—at least for the moment. She finally noticed (unlike that morning) that there was a second bed in the room which suggested there would be another person soon enough, but for the moment it was only her. The food that was brought in was another relief—mainly because for the first time through the entire day it actually smelled familiar. The meal was set at the desk next to the bed she’d woken in that morning. After several long moments she sat down at the desk and seriously contemplated eating the food in front of her. In all reality it was more than 36 hours since she’d actually eaten last (assuming matters of hunger actually held over through death) and since the smell of this food wasn’t turning her stomach as the previous meals of the day had, she took up the miso and carefully drank it.

M34

[livesbyinstinct.livejournal.com]

After setting his tray of food on top of his side of the dresser (the green tea substituted with water), Kiba collapsed onto his bed, settling into it with an annoyed grimace. His simmering irritation was mostly directed at the therapy session he had just returned from, at the goddamn doctor whom Kiba could only regard with intense, seething dislike. The emotions of which were hardly surprising, considering Kiba had been determined to not like the so-called doctor in the first place.

"Damn bastard,” he muttered, snatching a piece of tempura off his tray, shoving it into his mouth and absently chewing on it. Who did the moron think he was, anyway?

Re: M34

[moral-liberty.livejournal.com]

Kaworu was preoccupied as his nurse urged him inside the room. The day had passed quickly, but with too much in it to consider it all. At least, not within the time he had been given. Each time he reached out to grasp what he had learned (that someone cared, that his presence was influential in the happiness of another) there was more presented to him. It was the same now.

The door opened to reveal another boy. Young, with dark hair and a fierceness in his eyes that surprised Kaworu. The energy was directed at his food, but only as a temporary target. The cause was likely much deeper. He was laid back on the bed, even as he ate, which Kaworu found unusual. There was nothing preventing it, but he recognized it as a strange choice, perhaps indicative of the Lilim's personality.

Kaworu watched silently, smiling, until the nurse left them. It had been some time since he hadn't been alone here. The presence of another person in this space was a constant implication, but rarely did he see them awake. Only now did the fact seem real.

"Hello," he greeted. Kaworu left the doorway then, to look at his own meal. It was significantly more appealing than lunch, and he remembered how eating had restored him. He would need to make an effort to eat, despite his distracting interest in the stranger. "I'm glad to finally meet you."

M39

[sainted]

No cryptic bulletin message from Damon this time, but then, Damon already knew where he was. If he wanted Stefan, he would find him, just like last night, and if he had other plans — dinner plans — then he would take care of that. Stefan abruptly halted in the middle of the hallway, looking back over his shoulder as if he expected Damon to be there and talking to a co-ed or an interested nurse or... a blonde teenage girl...

He wouldn't. But Stefan couldn't be sure of that. Yes, Damon hadn't actually killed anyone for awhile now (for food, anyway), but that was because he'd been trying to keep a low profile in Mystic Falls, and blood bank stores were readily available. This might've been a hospital too, but there was no guarantee that a mental asylum would stocking blood, and it wasn't as if they could compel a nurse to tell them.

No, the easiest way to get blood would be to attack a fellow patient, and with how hectic it was at night, Damon wouldn't even need his full strength to do the deed and get away with it. Again Stefan thought back to Damon and Claire chatting during breakfast. He wavered, trying to decide if he shouldn't go back and chase down Damon himself, but a nurse touched his arm and forced him to continue on to M39. He couldn't think about Claire, not right now. Not while it was up to him to protect Elena.

Stefan had forgotten to worry about himself during his agonizing over Damon, but the sight of a big dinner sitting on his desk brought it all back. He wasn't hungry for tempura — and if he went much longer without blood, he might not even be able to properly digest normal food anymore — but eating something now would be better than getting weird while locked in a small room with Castiel.

He picked up the bowl of hot miso soup, and drank deep.

[freewill]

Dismissing the fact that he was still captured in this strange institute with no obvious way out, that his powers had been stripped down to the bare minimum, and that Sam and Dean did not even know who he was, the day had been a decent one. He had met some interesting humans and non-humans, and had learned about the existence of other worlds while also gathering more information about the institute itself.

More than that, he had a plan for the night. While he understood quite clearly the danger of the night by now, after encountering that diseased dog the first night and that spirit (he was not convinced that was what it had been, but it was his best hypothesis at the moment) the second, he was going to try to make his way up to the chapel nonetheless.

Castiel realized that he didn't know the exact way there, but such a large room would likely be simple enough to find. If anything, he could scout out the area while searching and get a better lay of the land. Mapping out this building was not his ultimate goal (escape was), but it might be a means to an end.

Upon making it back to his assigned room, Castiel saw that his roommate was already there; more than that, he appeared to be in good shape. While Castiel knew from his own wounds that bandages could be hidden, at first glance the young man didn't appear to be injured. Either he had taken his advice and had acted carefully the night before, or he'd been lucky.

It looked as if Stefan's appetite was improved from the previous night, though Castiel wasn't certain the same could be said for himself. Nonetheless, he moved over to the desk and looked the food over, grabbing the bowl of rice to try and stomach first. "Hello," he said by way of greeting before he picked up a fork and took his first bite.