Day 47: Recreational Field [Second Shift]

[vstheworld]

Scott wasn't really what one would call the sporty type, at least not currently. In the past, maybe. He could have called himself a hockey player at one point - in grade two (it totally counted). And he had been a jock in high school, hadn't he (he had at least played a lot of Track & Field for the NES, anyway)? Regardless of what his athletic status may or may not have been, sports weren't really what the Scott Pilgrim of nowadays was associated with. He was a fighter, not a lover sports guy. Still, he was surprisingly excited to be going out to the Rec Field. Maybe he wouldn't get any games on, but he could still work off those pesky bullet wounds, right?

He walked as fast as the crutch would let him despite the protests of his nurse and his injured limbs. His hand could grip just well enough to keep the crutch steady under his right arm (gravity did most of the work), and he was thus able to keep a good pace. "All right, not doing bad so far," Scott said to himself with a grin as he hobbled quickly across the field, heading for the goalposts on the far end. He had worked up a surprisingly steady stride by the time he got close to them. Crutch forward, then left leg swung out in front of it. Crutch, leg, crutch, leg, crutch, leg. Nothing to it! Sure, his shoulder was hurting like burning. Sure, his right leg was still giving him similar pain on a smaller scale despite not having weight put on it. Sure, his animal brain was constantly shouting, "WHY WON'T YOU STOP?!" Other than that, though, he was a-okay. He was determined to be. Otherwise, it was Game Over, wasn't it?

Soon he reached the goalposts and stopped, much to the relief of his limbs. He hadn't really gone to this spot for any specific reason. He had just wanted to prove to himself that he wasn't that hampered by his injuries. For now, he seemed to have made a good case for the affirmative on that point. He knew that he couldn't just stop at moving forward, though. He had to see how good he was going to be at fighting in this condition. How was his moveset going to be modified with a crutch added and an arm taken away? That was the million dollar ($1176470.59 CDN) question, wasn't it?

He tried something simple to start - a standing kick with his good leg. He quickly raised his left leg while leaning his armpit against the crutch, lightly touching the goalpost with the sole of his foot. Nothing bad so far. He did the same thing again, only harder. A small wave of pain shot from one leg to the other, causing him to wobble on his crutch a bit. Scott grit his teeth, not liking that result at all. This time he decided to try a small jump kick, just to spite that stupid injury. After backing up a good few inches, he pushed both feet off the ground. "Hiiiiya!" With the end of his crutch still on the ground, he gave himself a bit of extra momentum, letting it fling him toward the goalpost with his left leg outstretched.

One didn't have to be able to predict the future to know what that the result of that was going to be. Foot connected hard with goalpost. Rebound pushed him back against the crutch. Center of gravity over the crutch shifted too far back. Pain shot through both his legs and his injured arm again. This and the gravity shift caused him to let go of the crutch entirely. Body flew back over the crutch and crashed on the ground slightly behind it. Bum (among other things) ended up stinging and covered in grass stains.

"Owwwwww," Scott groaned to himself, fumbling for the crutch. It was in an awkward position, just beyond the reach of his good arm. ". . . Well, could've gone worse, I guess," he told himself as he used his left foot to start pushing the crutch back toward his hand.

[For Keman at first, then Peter and Indy later.]

Comments

[sasuke-of-sound.livejournal.com]

Sasuke woke late, but he ignored his nurses chirpy morning greeting and lay still for a moment, simply taking his time to catalogue every limb. They were working; his entire body was working. The lack of chakra was something he was accustomed to by now, an endless frustration that had to be ignored in order to keep moving --

But he could keep moving. He had his hands and his feet and the will to see vengeance through to the end.

He also had too many people here who could prove troublesome if he targeted Konohagakure as a whole, however guilty the village might have been by what must have been a close-to-willing blindness. But blindness was hardly the worst of a hidden village's sins -- and those who had never seen the truth in the first place could hardly bear the same weight of sin that those who had committed massacre with their eyes wide open did.

And if Jiraiya was to be believed, there might be less opposition to vengeance than Sasuke had expected.

He had no need of approval, and he had no need of forgiveness -- but if he could quicken the swing of his sword, if the guilty could sooner taste the same pain they'd dealt, then the path to walk was an easy decision. And Sasuke had always worked better on the move.

So he was almost pleased when his nurse informed him that he'd woken up only in time for the second shift. As expected, there was no trace out here of the bird that that patient had made a meal of during the night, just clean air and few others yet, apparently.

Sasuke settled into a routine set of patterns, mind the closest to calm it had been in -- in what felt like a long time. The remaining irritation was how much time the Institute had stolen in the past several days, but he would have to make up for lost time with brief training now.

It was too damn bad that the Institute would probably stop any sparring even if Sasuke could find a match.

[[for Kakashi, I believe. 8D]]

[lostonlifesroad.livejournal.com]

The best Kakashi could hope for after his conversation with Artemis was to have offered the boy some temporary distraction; shift changed before he could ask about what had been weighing him down so much, and Kakashi felt a bit guilty afterward. He hadn't meant for the entire conversation to be about him, after all. And what was worse, the nurse refused to let him take his 'calculus' book outside. That was a time for exercise, she admonished, and sent him into the cold with nothing to read.

Ah well. Letting out a soft sigh, Kakashi began walking the length of the recreational field, surveying the few people already out. One was extremely familiar, and between Obito's arrival and the latest bulletin, someone Kakashi needed to speak to. He recognized the practice for what it was, though he also knew Sasuke would find it less than satisfactory, along with anything the nurses would actually allow. Still, it presented an opportunity for Kakashi to study Sasuke's form for the first time since he'd left the village, among other things, so he made his way over.

"It's been awhile, Sasuke." Kakashi kept his hands in his pockets as he approached, though the Uchiha would know better than to think he was off guard. There was simply no way of knowing what would happen during the day, and any ninja knew that it only took one hit to land a fatal blow. "I thought we should talk, after that note you left." And because of Obito, but Kakashi wouldn't bring him up just yet. First he wanted to see just what Sasuke meant by 'alliance' this time.

[poolcuemurder.livejournal.com]

Venom awoke with a throbbing headache, an ache in his bones that he couldn't explain, and a woman staring down at him. Two of those items were things he were no stranger to - one of them, however, was not like the others.

"You missed breakfast, Vincent," Nurse said, just as distant as yesterday, as she handed him a hairband and a comb. The latter was taken, the former thoroughly ignored (receiving an exasperated groan and subsequent annoyed palm-meeting-face from Nurse), and, had he been paying attention to the woman while working the comb through his hair, he might have heard of her desperate mumble of "Lord, I'm trying."

The field was mostly empty by the time they arrived, which was surprising considering how late he slept, but even then he couldn't blame anyone. It was starting to get cold -what was it, fall? ...hadn't it been winter before he first found himself here? Had he been away from the Guild that long?! - and, while he could handle it, well... It was still cold. He found himself unconsciously rubbing at his arms in the wake of the cool air.

At least his face was warm. Not that that stopped the rest of his body from painfully reminding him that the pile of stress he had dug himself under wasn't entirely good for him. It would do good to relax, even for a moment. If he tired himself too badly, he wouldn't be able to focus on anything important...

It was quiet, still. After giving a sympathetic glance to the lone child on the field (before shaking his head and pushing the thought away. He didn't have time to play babysitter to anyone in this place. The Guild, and therefore escaping in order to return to it, came first before everything), he found a spot to himself and sat on the grass there.

Meditation would be good for him. Without a word, he closed his eyes.

[Free assassin.]

[lighthearted]

It seemed like the curse Sora had when it came to the recreational field would never end. He didn't even know how many times he'd been brought out here only to have to sit and watch everyone else have fun because he was busy sporting an injury. While part of him was tempted to push through the pain, he knew he'd only regret it -- a bullet wound was nothing to sneeze at, after all.

And so he resorted to pouting to himself as he walked along the grass, staying out of the way of the people who were exercising. His hand went up under his shirt to scratch at his bandages, partly because the wound itched and partly out of annoyance.

He almost wished he could track down the no-longer-brainwashed patient from last night to give him a piece of his mind. Sora never would have held a grudge if the man had been regretful, but he wasn't. He wasn't even close to it!

The boy sighed to himself, but it was right at that moment that he spotted a familiar face (well, he couldn't really see the man's face, so it was more like familiar hair) nearby. It looked like Venom was trying to rest or something, and Sora wondered if maybe he should do the same. It might get him to calm down about last night, at least.

Trying to tiptoe over so he could take a spot near the other patient, Sora then seated himself, crossed his legs over each other, and closed his eyes...

[otnemememento.livejournal.com]

Leonard let the nurse escort him outside before wandering from her, curious to get a look around. Okay, what am I doing out here? His eyes landed on a kid with a crutch kicking a goal post. Sports. He looked back toward the building and the nurse-lined wall. Odd activity for a hospital, but maybe it helps the healing process. Don't think it's helping that kid any, though.

Only a few people were scattered around the field, and there didn't seem to be an organized activity going on. Content to watch the patients stumble the grounds, he found an empty spot along the wall and had a seat, leaning against it for support.

[Harvey Dent]

[dualistic]

As insufferable as Jason could be sometimes, Harvey usually felt refreshed after talking to him. It had nothing to do with Jason's attitude and everything to do with the fact that they were usually actively working toward something during their chats. It beat the monotony that usually came with the day and gave him something to think over for the rest of the wasted time before dinner came around.

Being shuttled out onto the recreational field wasn't nearly as good for his mood, but he could at least be thankful that the nurses didn't try to force him into participating. He'd thought about kicking a soccer ball around for old time's sake before, but he got the feeling it would only depress him. Too much had happened between now and then.

Squinting away from the sun, Harvey tried to find a shady spot, but to no avail. He only came across a man in his age range who looked similarly uninterested in the outdoor activities. Harvey shrugged to himself. The grass here wasn't wet with dew, so it was as good a place as any to sit. Not bothering to ask, he leaned against the wall and took a seat a fair distance away from the stranger, but close enough for them to converse if necessary.

[cmdr-exposition.livejournal.com]

The rec field was certainly different in the daytime. Hayes was inclined to call it an improvement, what with the shortage of obviously homicidal things running around loose. Somehow, though, it wasn't as much improved as one might have thought, because knowing about the other Institute, it just looked fake. It was just different enough to set you on edge... like synthesized food, if synthesizers occasionally produced poison.

He didn't feel much like playing around. He didn't feel much like anything today, but sitting back on the sidelines and looking some more at the sky was a pretty decent option.

Hayes hadn't quite decided whether the change was more comforting or more disturbing, but at the moment he was leaning towards comforting. It meant that whatever world he was in, the planet was not completely in the possession of the enemy. It meant that, whether he personally could get there or not, there was some place somewhere that was free. It didn't mean much in the way of reasonable hope for himself, but if you could think of others, that was still something.


[For McCoy?]

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

The doctor shielded his eyes against the sun for a moment. It was like a whole 'nother world in the daylight: now that he could see it without the blackness and mist, he could see that the field itself was relatively large, well kept, and empty of this planet's native fauna. McCoy found his eyes drifting back to that place in the field where he'd first encountered the captain. Like the rest of the field, it was pristine, no torn up grass and mud, no shredded cloth, nothing. You could almost forget that a creature had attacked Jim earlier.

He had a set of medical logs and his own eyes saying otherwise. Even if the staff were seemingly devoting all their energies into covering up their own mistreatment and reckless handling of patients, he wasn't going to forget it anytime soon.

A familiar set of shoulders was nearby. It almost looked like Mr. Hayes was somehow basking in the sun.

"You almost look like you're enjoying yourself, Commander," McCoy said.

[scarefaux]

Breakfast ended all too soon for the Scarecrow, but at least a few of his fears had been assuaged: his head injury apparently wasn't as noticeable as he'd thought it would be, and Abe had said the wound looked good and probably would heal well. Human bodies were pretty amazing if they could recover from trauma like he'd faced the previous night. No wonder crows feared them more than they feared a man made of straw.

Though some concerns were momentarily put to rest, he had a new problem: he was sure he'd be feeling better if he could feel anything at all. Stepping outside wasn't nearly as satisfying as he'd hoped it would be: the great smell of the air, the feeling of the grass beneath his bare feet, the sensation of the sun on his skin- all were absent. Oh, if he ever got his hands on that doctor who'd put that clever little thing in his head that robbed him of his senses, he'd string her up to the crows himself!

He found a grassy patch and had a seat, running his hand on the grass- still nothing. His sensations had to come back eventually. He'd lived a long time never knowing what they'd felt like, so he could be patient, though now that he knew what he'd been missing, it was difficult.

[Remy]

[tiny-chef.livejournal.com]

This was the first time Remy had been outside in a few days, which might be a kind of record for him. In the past, his life had been lived intermittently and fluidly indoors and outdoors. Almost all rats found a safe place to shelter -- dry, too, if they were lucky -- and ventured out to look for food as much as possible. He had been indoors much more often since meeting Linguini and spending so much of his time in the kitchen at Gusteau's, but in that situation, he didn't need to scavenge, and he still got fresh air on their daily ride to and from the restaurant. Yeah, he was pretty sure he hadn't spent this much time inside since the last time he was as pink and hairless as this. It was like being a baby again, only with bullets.

After the nurse left him alone, he looked around the sunny field. Scott was already in discussion with some other guy. Eventually, his gaze fell on a familiar face: Scarecrow, the first person he'd met. The guy who had been right about everything, and Remy hadn't listened. Apologies always came slowly... they wounded his pride... but he figured he probably owed Scarecrow one. Plus, the guy was friendly.

He ambled over, and when he was next to Scarecrow, he said, "Hi there."

[tartaros-avatar.livejournal.com]

Recluse immediately ignored his nurse as soon as he was outside, making his way to the nearest shadows, over by the wall separating the rec field from the courtyard. The sun was absolutely blinding, and it took all his stubbornness and unbending stoicism to hide how painful it was for him.

He sat down on the grass up against the wall, head tilted back, eyes closed, trying to force them to adjust. It would happen. If he did not have control over his own body, he had nothing.

[hamelinschild.livejournal.com]

He'd only just paused to check the bulletin board (One reply to his not-an-evil-club-message, which he'd replied back to with a mild amount of trepidation), and when he'd looked back, where there had once been a Scourge, now there was none.

Which sort of blew, seeing as Hart had given the whole of his breakfast to the man, trying to convince him that he'd be well taken care of and looked after. So much for attempting to be the responsible one. It was like pissing into a sea of piss. Try as one might, it wasn't going to get any better.

However, there was little time to look for the man, as a nurse came up quick and ushered Hart along and out into the sun.

It was refreshing, the sun being an absolute improvement over cold alleyways, smelling boxcars, or even prison, but it still did not detract from the fact that he'd lost Scourge.

In a rush to find the man, his mind clicked into contingency plan mode; if you can't find him, grow your numbers.
Where the fuck was Recluse?

Lucky for Hartley, even when sitting, the overlord was still amazingly easy to spot, what being huge and all. --that and out in the sun, the man shaded or not, he looked awfully bright. Though, less in the cheery way and more in the basement-dweller-pale sort.

Just as eager to stretch his legs as he was to get to the man, Hart hurried over.

"We've got bad news." He wasn't fretting. Fretting was done over trivial things. This was more akin to a toned-down panic. "I lost Scourge."

[dreadofthegrave]

Ahhh, geez, breakfast was ending now? From the direction their conversation had taken, Battler still had more than a few questions for Rika, but according to the announcement, they were about to be separated. He debated asking whether an exception could be made, be he had a funny feeling that asking to go with the female population might not be taken very well.

When the nurse came, she frowned at the sight of his plate. "Henry, are you not feeling well? A boy your needs to eat more to keep their energy up!"

He glanced down at it himself, finding that most of the items on the tray were still there, barely touched. ... Crap, he was hungry, too. He'd gotten so distracted that he'd all but forgotten about it. Battler hurriedly wolfed down a good few bites and finished off his juice. It wasn't going to be enough, but it would certainly be better than nothing at all, so that much would have to suffice. "Guess I'll have to catch up at lunch," he shrugged.

"I'm holding you to that," the nurse informed. "Here, I brought you a sweater. It's chilly outside, and we wouldn't want you catching a cold."

"Right, right. Thanks," he said, slipping the article of clothing of his head. The nurse seemed pretty happy that he was being more agreeable than he had been when he'd first woken up. It did kind of weird him out how she kept calling him by the wrong name, but other than that, was there really anything wrong? Unless the woman was somehow directly behind whatever was going on, which he doubted, Battler really didn't have anything to gain by being a jerk to her. ... That could be reserved for whoever the bastard responsible for this was, whoever that was.

Stepping onto the recreation field was a bit of a nostalgic feeling. It reminded him of a school gym class. It was hard to believe something so ordinary feeling could be hiding something so screwed up... The whole thing was so bizarre it was hard to wrap his head around it. Certainly, some parts were pretty questionable, but he honestly couldn't say the probability was entirely zero, and he felt like he could trust Rika. Maybe it could even be said that he wanted to trust her.

He couldn't help but sigh as he slowly made his way across the field. She'd really given him a lot to think about, but rather than what he should be doing right now, his mind kept wandering to what had been said at the very end. A game, she'd said, where people died. How similar were their experiences really....? Battler knew that it wasn't good to go picking at painful memories, but his human curiosity just couldn't let the subject go. And she said she'd won, right? He couldn't help but be interested in that; it was more than he'd accomplished thus far. .... He still didn't understand Beato's mystery at all.

[For Zack~]

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

Well, the food had been good. And he'd accidentally confused yet another person with the whole 'I'm a digital monster!' thing. And man had he been happy that she hadn't pushed it on asking about last night. He was still embarrassed about that.

The nurse was going on and on about a whole bunch of stuff he wasn't paying attention to or didn't have a clue what they were about as he headed for the outside. Something about how given his temper it wouldn't be a good idea to give him baseball stuff. So he ended up left with a soccer ball, and being told to 'be good'. "As if." ...Well, if there was anyone else around.

[For Jiraiya!]

[toadally4boobs.livejournal.com]

Jiraiya was let out into the recreational field with strict order from the nurse to "go socialize". He only listened because she had suggested that it might be best to take away his journal if he didn't, and there was no way in hell he was letting that happen. Sure, he'd be a bit reclusive these last couple of days writing, but what author wasn't when they were on a writing streak?! he had a map in there. But, more importantly, he had his stories. He'd rather them pry his journal from his cold, dead hands before anything else.

As much as he hated doing what he was told by these creeps, it wasn't useful to refuse only to both get sedated and to have his journal taken away. Jiraiya surveyed the field, looking for someone that was interesting.

Luckily, it didn't take long. There was a man standing there, obviously not sure what to do with the soccer ball. Which was interesting in of itself, enough that Jiraiya walked over to him with a grin.

"You're supposed to kick it, you know," Jiraiya stated, as if it was obvious. "Never played soccer before?"

[guardiancomplex.livejournal.com]

Touya decided that it would be best to get his mind off of more... exciting topics by getting in some exercise. Maybe running through a few soccer drills. At the very least, he didn't want to be caught staring off into gaga land while he replayed the memory of Yuki's finger tracing the outline of the happy face on his shirt... how soft Yuki's lips were... the feeling of Yuki's fingers on his--

The soccer ball he'd been leaning some of his weight on shifted, and Touya nearly went face-first into the grass. Focus, focus. He could think about something besides making out with Yuki for an entire shift. Somehow. He could totally do it.

He started idly dribbling the ball his nurse had provided him with, bouncing it off his instep, knee, head--trying to keep his mind on the ball and the ball alone. Even if Yuki had assuaged Touya's fears that his affections were outside of what was normal, he still didn't want to be a stalker-boyfriend. Someone who smothered their significant other in a way that was distasteful or caused the other person discomfort. He didn't want Nakuru to be right, most of all. He and Yuki were happy now--and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure that their relationship remained healthy, comfortable, and satisfying for them both.

[Free, no limit!

[nobleman]

Catching up with Anise was always a good thing -- hell, catching up with any of his friends was a relief in this place. With all the dangers around, not to mention any other things that could go wrong... Well, it was just a shock that none of them had just decided to throw the towel in by now. Then again, with what he and his friends had gone through during their effort to stop Van, Guy couldn't say he was too surprised that they were all holding strong (for the most part) in this place.

It was a shame that they were scheduled to go out onto the recreational field when he was still recovering from the coliseum, but Guy wasn't going to get too upset over it. He was just glad that he was able to even be out in the sun and watching other people work off any extra energy (it was surprising enough that people even had extra, after everything they went through), even if he couldn't do the same.

As Guy walked across the field, he came across a stranger who was doing some pretty impressive moves with a black-and-white checkered ball. More than that, he was only using his feet to move it around. Guy couldn't help stopping for a moment to watch. "Wow," he remarked, "you're pretty good!"

[sewenteen-sir.livejournal.com]

Chekov was in a wonderful mood after talking with Takashi. It seemed like he was starting to make friends with people who didn't even know the world he was coming from. This, of course, was a very positive thing for him. It meant that as a crewmember of the Enterprise, a vessel that's primary mission was to explore new worlds and civilizations, he was well-equipped to communicate with people who may not understand everything he knew and came from. It only made him more excited to return to the Enterprise and undertake their mission.

In fact, he was so excited to have made a few friends in their prison, Chekov began running--around the Recreational Field. It had been a while since he'd taken advantage of a space big enough to run in (not too long, but long enough to where he missed it), so he found himself content to begin running laps at a leisurely pace. He was a marathon runner after all, not a sprinter.

He moved around the field, neatly avoiding patients entering the field or talking, grinning away as he continued to put the makeshift track behind him. Perhaps the only thing that would make this better was if he actually had some varying scenery--though he wasn't going to complain.

[Free, no limit!]

[ruthless-hunter.livejournal.com]

[He can has bounty hunter?]

Well, HK hadn't broken Prowl's bones at breakfast, which was always a good sign. The cafeteria had been too noisy to hear what they'd been saying, but HK had been visibly relieved at whatever the cyberninja had said to him. He'd talk to the assassin about it at dinner and Prowl after light's out.

In the meantime, Prowl had slipped him that note as promised right as the shift changed. He'd been disappointed when it turned out to be a request instead of information. Apparently Prowl wanted him to find info one someone called 'Music Meister'. Other than the fact that the guy had a stupid name, Lockdown knew nothing of any Music Meister. Plus, if Prowl wanted him to find anything out, the bounty hunter would have to get something in return. As long as Prowl was being a complete slagger towards him, Lockdown wasn't feeling charitable. Just one other thing they'd talk about tonight.

The bounty hunter had been so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a few kliks to notice a young meatbag running in his direction. He stopped in his tracks, avoiding a collision. Lockdown growled after the kid, "What where yer goin', meatbag."

[notachick.livejournal.com]

Outside! Okita shouldn't have been as excited as he was, but going out into the sun when there weren't nasty things dropping from the sky to eat your eyes was a wonderful sensation. It kept his mind off Adelheid's disappearance and the Lelouch's reemergence on the bulletin board, too. The weather was sunny and the skies were blue, but the temperature reminded Okita that winter was fast approaching. It was still a bit nippy out and his nurse insisted he take a jacket with him even after he spent a good five minutes trying to sweet talk his way out of that.

"You catch a chill out here, I won't hear the end of it!" she said finally, helping Okita zip up the jacket front, clasping the buttons assumedly to ensure he couldn't get out of it. The swordsman just squirmed a bit and ran off as soon as she let go. He'd been watching to see how the thing got on, but now that it was? Okita fingered the metal tab and tried to tug it down, but it caught and didn't seem to go down very far.

"..."

He wasn't going to get caught in this thing! Turning around in circles as if that would help, Okita pulled and tugged at the buttons and the metal zipper until he finally managed to get it mostly open. Mostly. It got stuck halfway down and when Okita tried to pull it up to try again, it wouldn't budge. Both ways, stuck. It was like some fluffy, warm death trap! He wouldn't be able to run around or have fun if he was stuck in this ridiculous thing! Turning to look at his exasperated nurse who was already heading to the edge of the field to watch the rest of the patients, he called to her in the best whining voice he could manage. "Get if ooooooooff!"

"Stop playing with that thing, Julian, or so help me!"

"It's hot!"

"Leave it on!"

"But it's hot!"

"Do you want to be sedated?"

Okay, so the jacket death trap was staying on. His nurse joined her harpie companions along the side and Okita balked, turning away to keep tugging at the zipper thing. Stupid jacket. With an unhappy and very loud sigh of frustration, he flopped onto the grass and wondered just what he could do to keep himself preoccupied.

[Free! No limit.]

[teabastard.livejournal.com]

The woman had manhandled him into a jacket, treating him as though he was a god damned child as she led him through the corridors of the infernal place, insisting on blathering on about useless minutiae and doctors and oh, how lucky he was to be in such a prestigious hospital! He wanted to throttle her by the time she led him outside.

He just stared for a moment at the sight. Every single person was wearing the same thing as he was. The jackets and the stupid shirts. And there were more nurses, more bulky looking men who looked like they'd be able to give America a run for his money if America had been human rather than a childish superpower. They really had him in the wrong place! He wanted to demand access to a phone again, the chance to call his boss and ask him to send a car around, possibly some MI6 agents, something like that, but the woman had grabbed his arm again before he could open his mouth, dragging him off across the field. "Now, why don't you try talking to Julian? I'm sure that he'll make you very welcome."

She left him standing there, looking down at a youngish looking man (woman?) with long dark hair and a sulky expression. Oh lovely. Make friends with crazy hospitalised people. He had enough trouble making friends with people he'd known for how many centuries now? Finally, he just cleared his throat, looking down at the... the person with as much politeness as he could manage in the current situation (not much).

[composers-proxy.livejournal.com]

Breakfast had been weird. He'd wanted to tell Kairi her friends were ok, but the nurses were way too anal about their schedules, so he missed the chance. She knew both of them though? Was that because she'd been here so long or because they were from the same place? Were they all connected somehow? Small world or not, there were just way too many coincidences for him to just shrug it off.

Going outside was chilly in just his t-shirt and pajama bottoms, so they let him grab his jacket too, which was a frumpy old-looking thing one might expect a crazy person on the streets to wear. No kidding. Where do you think you are Neku?

He glanced over the field, but sports weren't his thing. Instead of picking up a ball, he found a spot near the fence, turned up his headphones, and tried to ignore the fact that he was listening to Vivaldi instead of j-pop.

[Ritsu!]

[gomenkudasai.livejournal.com]

Ritsu was not one to sleep deeply very often, but after his exhausting first day at the institute, and a night shift filled with awkward happenstances for which he was entirely at fault, his eyes had closed the instant his body hit the mattress. He didn't dream, or at least he didn't remember dreaming, and woke to a gentle nudge on his shoulder.

He rolled over, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, not feeling nearly as rested as one should after being so thoroughly unconscious. As he blinked, the same nurse from the music room came into focus, her hand poised carefully above him, her expression that of someone handling something fragile which threatened to shatter at any moment. Ritsu, of course, read this look as annoyance, and sat up as straight as a board, startling her, which then started him, and set off another chain of frantic apology.

It wasn't until she threatened to sedate him that he managed to calm down enough to understand that he had slept through breakfast, and it was now 2nd shift. He got dressed hurriedly, teary at the inconvenience he had caused the young woman by selfishly ignoring her attempts to wake him throughout the morning. (The fact that he had been asleep and therefore had had no way of knowing she was there seemed irrelevant to the self-depricating young man.)

He shuffled down the hallway behind her, still sniffling and dabbing at his eyes, once again missing his kimono as he tried to dry his flushed cheeks with the sleeves of the sweater she'd insisted he wear. He peered around the recreational area when they finally moved outside, the colder air chilling the tears on his skin.

Flustered, the nurse located a ball, handing it to the now tremulously calm young man and encouraging him to play with it before she hurried off, shaking her head. He watched her leave, his eyes sad - the day had just begun, and already, his worthless presence had caused someone such frustrations.

He sighed, wandering cautiously across the field until he reached a spot near its edges where he was less likely to ruin someone's excercise, and began bouncing the ball experimentally, figuring it would be rude to ignore the young woman's effort to find it for him, as well as her suggestion that he use it. Of course, the young Sohma was not particularly well known for his grace, and soon enough--

CRASH!

The ball went off course, slamming into the nearby fence with surprising strength. Ritsu froze at the noise, looking back and forth frantically to ensure it hadn't bothered anyone, then turning his gaze toward the path of the object. It was then he realized that, in his infinite clumsiness, he had sent it flying straight at a nearby young man, who had been missed by mere inches. A mortified look spread across Ritsu's face, tears that were already at the surface quickly spilling over as he ran to collect his wayward sports equipment.

"I...I'M SO SORRY!"

[host-club-honey.livejournal.com]

Breakfast with Tsubaki was the start to a wonderful day, then there was the surprise strawberries from Chekov and Takashi which he'd slipped into his pockets, though his red fingertips gave him away. He'd gobbled down almost all of them before he ever got outside, and only a few remained, which he savored, taking small bites while he looked over the field.

It seemed like ages since he'd seen the sunshine and he was eager to run and jump and have a good time. Normally this would be the perfect place for Chika to sneak attack, but he wouldn't be lucky enough to have fun like that today. Still, there was no reason not to enjoy himself. He started looking around the field for a playmate or at the very least, some fun equipment.

[Prowl!]

[stillandstrike.livejournal.com]

Prowl walked out to the field and stood at the edge, watching people. It would be a good opportunity to train his bo-

Oh look. A small human. Alone and looking around for something, somebody. Was it lost? Afraid? Hm. Sari was the only human child he'd ever been around. Being what he was made it difficult to interact with younger humans, except the annoying ones that sought him out and interrupted his observations. But his body and size now made it possible to approach the child.

He picked up a ball and walked over, a kind determination in his eyes as he crouched.

"Are you alone?"

[whos-da-man.livejournal.com]

[for Heat!]

Junpei was perfectly okay with the temperature outside. With his sweatshirt on, he was warm enough and there was just the right amount of bite in the air. It reminded him of late baseball season when the games really mattered, back before his father had become a drunken asshole and would actually take him to the stadium every now and then.

The teen rummaged around in the sports equipment until he found the glove he liked and a baseball. With no one readily available to start a game of catch with (that looked like they wouldn't be a royal bore), Junpei started tossing the ball up into the air and catching it.

[idontregret.livejournal.com]

So far there had been no responses from any of his comrades on the bulletin, just people who thought it was fun to have a laugh at his expense. Well, since one had been dumb enough to give his appearance, he was going to take the opportunity to search him out.

Unfortunately, they were being divided up for this next shift. Fortunately, most of the male patients he saw were headed the same direction he was. Heat scoped them all out, eyes narrowed in irritation at the populace in general. When they landed on someone who matched the given description as well as he could figure, the demon pulled away from the small crowd of people exiting the building and approached him from behind.

One arm grabbed the boy in a choke hold, and he growled through clinched teeth. "I'm not someone who likes being toyed with, Dinner."

[stlg13bomber.livejournal.com]

Carter found himself almost disappointed by how normal the recreational field looked. The time travelers seemed to like making everything look normal, probably to keep the prisoners from getting too scared of twenty-first century machines. Outside the walls, he bet, they played soccer with jetpacks.

His hands went for his pockets, then fell to his sides again upon finding out that he was still missing his worn leather jacket. Hrmph. Carter really hoped they hadn't thrown his original clothes out. He'd gotten used to his jacket and cap and losing them felt like having his teddy bear stolen. He looked up wistfully at the high walls surrounding the field and pined for the sliding wire grate of Stalag 13.

All the real work of modifying the camp into an easily escapable facility had been done before Carter formally arrived and he had no idea how they'd accomplished it in the first place. Getting over these walls would be pretty hard and Wally hadn't said anything about digging tunnels. There had to be some kind of way, though. Carter didn't plan on visiting the year 2005 without doing a little sightseeing.

[TK!]

[loyal-soldier.livejournal.com]

Breakfast... well, he wished he'd had more time to help that kid. He might have been misguided about the Empire, but he was fundamentally innocent. It made no sense that adolescents would be here. Were they trying to indoctrinate them when they were still young enough to accept training? Or for experiments?

He sighed. Well, this would at least be a time to engage in some physical exercise and... "Excuse me, are you new here, sir?" And play tour guide to a rather obvious fresh arrival. No one else would really be looking around like that if they weren't new.

[sixth-attack.livejournal.com]

Needles, needles, needles... The institute was just full of those damned jagged things! Sechs promised himself that once he escaped and regained his powers, anyone who would dare point as much as a tip of a syringe at him would get their heads detached from their shoulders before they could say "this may pinch a little...!"

No thanks to the sedatives, breakfast stumbled by in an incoherent blur. Sechs figured that he must have eaten something that morning, since his stomach wasn't clenching up with hunger anymore. Still, the humiliation of being drugged up by the staff again left a very bitter taste in his mouth. All Sechs could hope was that he hadn't been spoon fed by a nurse while he was still in a stupor...

When morning rolled on and the sedatives drained out of his system, Sechs was escorted to the field, but not before struggling to write a note on the board in the sun room first. Once outside, Sechs picked a secluded spot within the shade of the activities shed and limped through the field towards his lone destination with the worst slouch he ever had in his posture.

Once out of the nurse's sights, he heavily dropped down upon the cool grass and leaned his shoulder against the shed, keeping his back to the field behind him and his front towards the walls that encased its prisoners within the institute grounds. He tucked his legs in close to his chest, placing his arms upon his knees for his head to nestle in. Through the shadow of his scruffy hair, Sechs silently glared towards the fence; the fury that once burned in his eyes was now reduced to dull ashes of bitterness and despondency.

The more he thought about what happened the night before and the morning that followed it, the more pressure built up inside his chest, but he was still too weary to let out his furious energy. Yet whenever he tried to redirect his thoughts to something else, the painful memories would just give chase like a pack of wolves after their stumbling prey, he couldn't escape the reminders of his torture; the pain and trembling his body experienced along with the occasional shadowy whispers in his head would not let him forget.

He hated this place, but felt absolutely helpless to do anything about it. He wasn't sure what was more loathsome to go through... For now, all Sechs could do was stare into nothingness as he fought off the terrible memories in his head and the dark chill rattling in his spine. It was all he could do while he waited for Kibitoshin to find him.

[bitpartgod.livejournal.com]

Kibitoshin had hardly been able to sit still at breakfast. 'Nervous energy' his nurse called it, giving him a gentle smile and advising him to take it easy. 'Sheer panic' was what he called it, and, frankly, taking it easy was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

Last night... he'd been so whisked up in helping Franziska and actually being useful and having an actual conversation with her that it hadn't ever occurred to him that something could have been happening on the other side of the Institute. Or that, he realised as he approached the rec field, he had only been a few hundred feet away while they (they... it sounded so terrible, like some nameless, all-powerful entity lurking in the shadows) did their work on Sechs.

Their work. What did that even mean? First came the rush of imagination, then the chill, then the twist of nausea in the pit of his stomach that he had even wondered about that. Did it matter? The point was, they'd hurt him. It didn't matter how.

Haseo first, and now... and now Sechs. Why Sechs? Why did they always seem to go after the people he saw as strong and brave and powerful? Because if they weren't strong, goodness only knew he would have to be strong, and Kibitoshin didn't know if he could do that, oh no...

"Sechs?"

The android was sitting, crumpled, up against the shed. Right where he'd said he'd be. Only Kibitoshin was sure he hadn't mentioned that he would look so defeated. Like a puppet with all its strings cut.

It wasn't right.

Without thinking, Kibitoshin dropped onto his knees next to Sechs and threw his arms around his neck- and not just for his sake, either. Some part of the Kaioshin needed, more than anything in the galaxy, to make sure that Sechs was still there in some way, that there was something there he could still reach. "I'm so sorry."

[rocksthecourt]

This was absolutely ridiculous! Him? Sleep in?! How was that even possible? He'd gotten up early every, single day for years, to the point where he did so even without the aid of an alarm. In fact, most of the time, he was up before the nurses even came for him. So how could he have conceivably lain in bed like a useless sack of rocks while an entire shift went by?! Worse yet, why hadn't one of those morons woken him up?! Useless, lazy... ARGH! And he couldn't even blame something in the food since he hadn't been eating any!

...Hadn't been... eating any. At all. Well, a bite or two to keep from dying was about it for a day or two, his second fasting streak since Saturday. Admittedly, he was positively starving beyond anything he'd ever felt before. It didn't even hurt anymore; it only knotted into a dull tense sensation which seemed to pull at his throat at steady intervals. His head hurt, but honestly, there were so many things here that caused him headaches, malnutrition was the least likely to blame. Unlike oversleeping.

The lazy dimwit of a nurse who claimed to be in charge of him had the bright idea of sending him outside "to get some fresh air." Right. That was what he needed: Standing out in the cold. That was sure to play key to his mental health. Then again, considering the alternative was the Sun Room, perhaps risking a cold was a better option. The woman smiled brightly and handed him a soccer ball, saying something meaningless about getting exercising and finding someone to play with and whatnot. Had he been less of a gentleman, he may have considered "accidentally" throwing the ball in her direction as she walked away. Thankfully, he would never entertain such foul thoughts. Ever.

[for Nigredo]

[falseblack]

You could never dismiss the implications words held, at least in the mind of this child. He could delay the understanding--paint them in an array of colors--but Nigredo could never see them as simply nothing. So both the words of acquaintance and brother were acknowledged as meaning, and when the nurse came to take him, the child appeared pensive. A vast improvement over the previous depression.

She led him outside, to a place the U.R.T.V. recognized as the recreational field. He stared blankly at the area, a part of him scoffing at the idea of recreation in this place. It seemed highly counterproductive given nightly circumstances. And as irony would have it, the woman handed over his sweatshirt and suggested he partake in some exercise.

Usually, this would be his cue to run laps (instructors loved laps), except the sight of agitation forced Nigredo to reconsider. The man who held the emotion was the same man he'd abandoned the night before. If there was a time for amends, now would be it.

He approached in silence while hastily pulling down a sleeve. It wasn't until Nigredo was a few paces away that he chanced a greeting. "Hello."

[full-score.livejournal.com]

Breakfast had been filling enough, even if it would have been nice to get a chance to talk to Luke for a little longer. Still, Claude wasn't going to complain about getting an opportunity to hang around outside. The fresh air was such a welcome change from the sterile-smelling halls of the institute, and the recreational field in particular was especially conducive to stretching his legs and getting a little exercise done.

Maybe he'd have a closer look at the activity shed now that he had a chance to actually play with something in there. But before he did anything like that, it was probably a good idea to loosen up his muscles a bit. With that decided, he promptly dropped onto the grass and stretched his legs out in front of himself. Leaning forward, he began touching his toes with the tips of his fingers. It'd been too long since he'd gotten a good stretch in like this, so maybe he could make the best of his time out there.

Not that he couldn't do stretches inside, of course. But with the grass beneath him, and the sun's rays warming his back, it was difficult to resist the chance to relax like this.

Even when he had downtime, though, thoughts about their predicament had a tendency to float around in the back of his mind. Wasn't today one of the special therapy days? He sort of hoped they wouldn't assign him a new doctor. Not that Dr. Sohma had been a bad person, but...he still felt guilty for never getting a chance to deliver that stuffed seahorse to him.

Claude blew out a puff of air and eased onto his back. Maybe it was better for him to just focus on being outside, he decided as he brought his right leg up into the air. As he did so, his hands wrapped around the inside of his knee, holding the leg in position.

((Free, no limit!))

[timeleaper.livejournal.com]

After a quiet breakfast and an uneventful night, the chance to go outside was very much a welcome one. They got far too little opportunity to get some fresh air in his opinion, although admittedly he'd spent the last however many months almost entirely outdoors so he was probably biased. He had to wonder how easy it was going to be to adjust to living on a spaceship once again when he got home. Assuming they let him near the Calnus or any other spaceship again. Stealing one tended to get you in trouble, or so he'd heard.

Not that he didn't have more immediate problems like being stuck in a living horror movie. What had his life become? Seriously.

He began to stroll across the grass,, no particular destination in mind - no particular destination available for that matter. They weren't exactly given a lot of options really. He spotted a familiar blond nearby, stretching from what he could gather, and Ronixis approached him, giving a cheerful wave. "Morning. How are you today?"

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

There was something vaguely demeaning about being shuttled out here, Indy thought, but he couldn't quite decide what it was. That it made them seem like children shooed out to play--or like prisoners getting their one hour of sunshine a week? Both, probably. Whatever the comparison, it irritated him.

He took a soccer ball again ("Since you had such a good time with it last time," the nurse said, smiling for once--trust that woman to be helpful about everything except what he could actually use her help with) and started kicking it around, working himself up to a run as he passed it between his feet. As usual, physical exertion did the trick in burning off some of his frustration and clearing his head. By the time he'd made the first loop around the field, Indy was in a tolerable mood.

[for Peter]

[tightsofmight]

Sokka had done a lot in the way of winding Peter down from the sheer insanity that was last night, but his efforts were for naught. One cursory glance at the bulletin before leaving left him reeling all over again: Luxord wanted to make the deal.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Unless he wanted to switch from Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man to Homicidal Neighbourhood Spider-Man, it was still the only way to guarantee the creep would keep away from Brainy and give him the low down on Grell. But without knowing what he was going to ask for...He'd basically handed the guy a blank check. Genius move, Parker. Really. Now there was nothing to do but sweat buckets until night came again and he could haggle it out with the guy.

There were quite a few people on the field by now, but Peter was still at a loss for what to do out here. He was 'athletic' in a fashion, but he didn't like sports. That brief stint on the basketball team was more than enough for one lifetime. Last week this shift had been spent with Matt, meeting him for the first time and pretty much just being flabbergasted at how different he was from the Matt back home. And he wasn't here now, so.

Peter's pace crawled to a halt. Geez. Three, four days? Four days tops that he'd known the guy and that was enough to drag him down even further than the Luxord thing was. He had felt like a weird combination between Uncle Ben and...a friend who was not Harry or Johnny or any friend he'd ever had. Yet even with that going on he knew diddly squat about him. He missed a practical stranger. It was weird.

Speaking of weird relationships, the trademark sound of a soccer ball getting punted drew his eyes over to a lone Indiana Jones. Oh boy. Did he dare?

Apparently, yes he did. Anything was better than being stuck moping for another hour and a half, and he kind of wanted to check in with the guy. See what adventures the famous Dr. Jones had been up to. It had been a while since they'd last shared trauma.

He walked to where the man would surely see him on the jog by and waited for him to get in earshot, working on some brilliant witticism about soccer or the weather or being chased by giant boulders that would spark a conversation that wasn't ten kinds of awkward for once.

"...So...you play soccer?"

[toobothersome.livejournal.com]

Kakashi wanted them to practice, and Shikamaru was not usually one to disobey orders, especially in his present state. There was definitely logic to the jounin's suggestion, and although if confronted about he'd pretend he hadn't seen the post, he recognized its sensibility. He needed to learn more about fighting at close range. It was one of his weakest points, but then...

It was so rare that the institute permitted him to go outside.

Shikamaru tried to find a place as far away from the majority of the patients as the nurses would permit, hopefully out of view of the other Leaf-nin so he could postpone the lecture, then he settled into the grass and stretched his arms far over his head, feeling the rough green texture. The grass smelled freshly cut but the sliced tips or each blade were lined brown, meaning they'd been cut yesterday at the earliest. Small details, things a person learned from a life of lying around.

It was a decent day for cloud-watching, not the best and not the worst. The cloud's edges were ill-defined but present, and various shades of pale grey painted the bases of white. After folding an arm behind his head, he watched them drift aimlessly, each at its own rate, its own speed, each its own world entire. They didn't care about him, or about this awful place, or even their own destination. They didn't need him. In the life of a cloud, he was entirely insignificant. He still envied them, despite the honor and pride he felt about his new responsibilities, but it was a different kind of envy now. The type of envy one feels when watching children play: longing, but void of bitterness. Everyone grows up, but whatever. He had grass, he had clouds, and he had better things to think about. Like nothing.

It was nice to allow himself a blank mind for the first time in days. Though he knew he had things to worry about, he also knew that worry was only making troublesome matters worse.

[Kanone?]

[agunwithwings.livejournal.com]

Breakfast had done very little for Kanone's foul mood. He still knew nothing about this place or what was going on. And he'd still slept the entire night away like an idiot.

When his nurse came to collect him from breakfast he followed her outside, fighting the urge to scowl at her back. He wanted to lash out at somebody but he hadn't found a suitable target yet, and attacking the nurse didn't seem like the brightest idea. Not that Kanone particularly cared for her well-being. But she hadn't actually done anything to warrant it.

"Here you are, Thomas. The fresh air will do you some good. Why don't you find some new friends and play a game?" The woman gave him an encouraging look before disappearing back into the building.

Kanone glared at her back before looking around the field. Most of the people already out there seemed to be preoccupied, but Kanone wanted to find something to do before someone approached him or the nurse intervened again.

He moved away from where most of the patients seemed to be. Maybe he could get away without having to play some playground game. If he got far enough away, perhaps he could run for it and... No. That wouldn't be a good idea. At least not until he had a better grasp of the situation. He needed someone who would give him information. Maybe the boy laying in the grass over there could help. At least he didn't look like he was itching to get up and kick a ball around.

Kanone approached him with some caution, trying to gauge his reaction before plopping down on the grass next to him. He glanced down at the other boy before turning his gaze skyward as well. "Hey. Anything interesting up there?"

[Sorry for the fail.]

[runner-up-robot.livejournal.com]

Forte finished his breakfast quickly and followed Scott, and the rest of the male prisoners, out to the field outside. He did not, however, join in the attempt to practice fighting while injured. He'd had enough hobbling around all day and night, and didn't feel like irritating his side.

When he was outside, though, it occurred to him that he really hadn't been outside much since he arrived. He was usually concerned with escaping, or testing this body, and he hadn't really looked up. A strange feeling of loss washed over him as he looked up at the blue sky - he'd often talked about his strength and powers, but he hadn't realized how much he missed the freedom of flying. It had nothing to do with fighting ability, just being able to go anywhere, and see everything below him. And now he was trapped in this little building, running around the same dark corridors every night.

The sun was starting to bother his eyes, so he looked down at the grass, and another strange thought popped into his head - something he'd never done before, or been able to. After a quick look around to make sure no-one was looking in his direction at the moment, he let himself down carefully, and laid back on the soft grass, feeling it under his arms

[wantsyourzex.livejournal.com]

Well, if nothing else, at least he knew now he was healing correctly. Even if McCoy couldn't really do much for him now, it was nice to talk to someone who both knew something about medicine and actually saw his wounds. Having the doctors and staff all pretend not to see the scar on his head was... irritating. There were all too many attempts on their part to make reality subjective.

As if to prove his point, a hint of a creature ran by him in the sunlight, something hard to make out and then it was gone. Hallucinations, or interdimensional echoes? Ugh. This wasn't his forte.

He needed to think about something else for a while. Flirting with a human usually improved his mood... even if he didn't quite have his normal energy or enthusiasm, it was still a failproof way to brighten his day. ZEX blinked and looked for a likely candidate... was that human's hair purple?

ZEX made his way over to him, watching him for a few seconds. Yes, definitely purple hair, and purple on his face too... interesting. He hadn't seen many humans with markings before... perhaps this was a rare breed of human? In that case, it'd make a worthy addition to his menagerie...

"Hello," ZEX said, trying to smile. "Mind if I join you?"

[idolism]

_{[To be Bruno-ed.]}

Daytime catnaps had become something of a pipe dream lately. Even if the vampire felt like his time wasn’t being squandered on rest, when he could be doing anything else, he hadn’t seen the need. Oh, he was tired and moderately irritated as usual, but it was nothing that could be cured with a little sleep. It went deeper than that. It was the gnawing of hunger and frustration, unanswerable questions, loose threads, worries and wonderings.

Aidou really, really just wanted the wall he was beating his head against to show a crack, however small. He was staring to feel like he was in a rut again, and that chafed worst than most things.

If he could just be less dependent on other people…

It all went without saying, however, so Aidou either had to give into his urge to wreak some malicious havoc in the name of bolstering his spirits, or wordlessly carry the burden as usual. Breakfast had piqued his curiosity a little, but until he got in touch with Sasuke, he could do nothing more than tuck the information away. And that left him with a shift change to deal with. His ‘therapy’ being over and done with, Aidou had the choice of either Sun Room or recreational field. Neither were particularly desirable. That was the dilemma he was living in, though, wasn’t it?

By the time Aidou stepped onto the grass of the soccer field, he was already a bit hot despite being in the standard t-shirt. Stupid sun. Getting a sunburn wouldn’t improve his situation, either, but he was so sick of the building, and the staff-approved chance to leave it was so rare, the pros came to outweigh the cons. And unless they had a pack of orderlies bar the door, he wasn’t staying the whole shift to run around in circles and play catch and whatever else. He leaned against the wall, barely two feet from the doorway, and crossed his arms. To think, what must the deadened woods beyond the outer wall look like in the light of day? The town? Physically, he was so close, yet…

A figure caught his attention, making Aidou squint at the assembled prisoners. Well, well. There was Sasuke… only he wasn’t alone.

Eh.

The vampire let his head rest back against the wall. Perhaps for the best. He wasn’t about to venture any further out than this.

[zip-it-good.livejournal.com]

[sorry I'm so late...we can backthread if you'd like]

So he was being sent to the recreational field, eh? Was it because he looked athletic? Was it simply because he wasn't out of shape? Well, no matter what the reason was, it wasn't a very good choice on the nurse's part. Bucciarati had never really had the time to play around. There had never really been too many other kids on the island where he had grown up, and after his father's accident...well, doing well at sports was the least of his worries then.

In any case, there wasn't much for Bucciarati to do here besides talk to the other patients. At least, the ones that weren't busy frolicking on the field playing their little games. Luckily for Bucciarati, he found another patient alone leaning against a wall.

"Hello there!" Bucciarati said cheerfully, waving to him, "Nice day we're having, isn't it?"

[sdatislife.livejournal.com]

Shinji had quietly slipped outside with everyone else after breakfast. He hadn't really felt like going outside - it's not like he was very good at sports, after all - but the nurses had told him to go and so he'd gone. A group of the other men and boys seemed to be practicing fighting, but Shinji had wandered away from that. He didn't want to fight. He didn't like fight. Never had. He only piloted the Eva because he was told to. Because he was pressured to. He snugged his jacket a bit tighter as he glanced around. It was a bit chilly, but he didn't mind.

He settled down on the grass, out of the way. He just watched unobtrusively, hoping this day would pass as quickly as the last. Maybe this would end up to all be a dream in the end, anyway. Maybe he'd wake up at home. However, with each passing day, he found that possibility getting less and less likely. He sighed softly and tilted his head back to peer at the sky. This was such a strange place.

_{[For Kaworu]}

[moral-liberty.livejournal.com]

Kaworu didn't notice the bite in the air until he was half way out to the field. It crept up under his coat, through the collar and to his skin. He slid his hands up to rest on his neck, under the material, and held them there. The chill from his fingers dissipated, but still left the memory of cold where they had touched.

The games that the Lilim played were unclear. Words from their conversations periodically reached him, but they didn't tell him anything. He watched, walking slowly so that he would keep his footing, but stopped when he saw something else in the corner. A boy, sitting alone, far away from everyone else. The image momentarily overlapped with one of that same boy with headphones in his ears, sitting and waiting for something to happen to him. Kaworu picked his way carefully through the other clusters of people to reach Shinji again.

"Can I join you, Shinji?" he said suddenly, once he was close enough.

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

While Peter hadn't been able to get Sylar to tell him which friend of his he'd run into last night, at least he could be pretty certain that whoever it was, they were all right. The killer hadn't mentioned anything about harming them, and it would have been pretty low of him to turn around and attack someone who'd apparently saved him. Not that Peter would have put it past him, but...

If Sylar really had coincidentally met up with a friend of his, hopefully it would get back to Peter sooner or later. If it was really someone he was close to, then he imagined they would bring it up with him. Or he hoped so, at least. Then again, it might not occur to the person to mention it if Peter hadn't come up in conversation -- which was likely, since they'd apparently been dealing with a monster attack.

Well, if push came to shove, he could always try to use the bulletin board to find out. The really important thing was that Nathan apparently hadn't been in Sylar's line of sight over the past day or so. While it meant his whereabouts were still a huge question mark, Peter could now rest assured that Sylar hadn't done anything to him.

Stepping out onto the recreational field, Peter crossed his arms over his chest and watched some of the younger patients as they messed around. While the jock thing had never been his style, it still reminded him of his high school days. Which were long gone by now, but at least it was a momentary distraction from the issue of his brother.

[scalyfishman.livejournal.com]

Why hadn't he considered taking a look around the basement before? You were too busy playing delivery bot with explosive materials for an alien with wandering eyes, came the silent reminder, but Depth Charge chose to ignore it in favour of something a little more constructive (and a little less irritating).

For the first time since he'd woken up in this place, he actually found himself with the luxury of choice: did he want to take the slow, steady route and blow this place sky high? Or did he want to fight his way to the center of things? Storming the basement would be playing into the Institute's grimy little hands, of course, not to mention he'd be playing on their turf, but all this item-finding slag was starting to wear just a little thin.

He'd figure it out. At least this shift let him spend a little time outside, away from the claustrophobic cramp of the building. Stupid, really. He'd never minded spending years crammed into his Starhopper and this place had rooms one hundred times bigger than it.

Looked like he wasn't the only one out for a little breathing space. Standing a little way ahead of him on the field was a familiar figure- maybe too familiar, if that little stab of guilt was to be believed. The details of his last conversation was Peter was hazy, but Depth Charge couldn't help but think it was better that way. Tch. He didn't seem like the type to hold a grudge, but...

He approached the man casually, hands jammed into his pockets against the cool of the air, stopping when they stood side by side. "Hey. Peter." A sideways glance, but that didn't mean he was going look Peter in the eye. "About before."

[forgot-it-all.livejournal.com]

[Albeeeeeeedo]

Dammit! He'd missed the hangman game. At least he'd been able to catch up for the later part of it, but still. Despite the weird themes, Ritsuka kind of liked playing hangman. It was a strange game, but a good one - helped with spelling and with increasing his vocabulary recognition skills.

Then again, he had been occupied with far more important things. Sheena wasn't much better off than before, but Ritsuka hoped that him listening had at least helped her a little. There were some things Ritsuka just couldn't talk about, but he'd tried to listen to her as best he could even if he hadn't been able to really understand every angle of her problems.

And now he was here in the Recreational field. He wanted to try running around or doing something, but he was tired and losing energy. He really should have eaten at breakfast, but again he just hadn't had the time. And the nurse's offering of granola was the last thing he wanted. Too hard to chew and he frankly couldn't be bothered. He'd eat at lunch instead.

So now he was left in the sun, lying on his back, hands behind his head as he stared up at the sky. His gaze floated toward the third floor of the institute and he wondered if what Sheena had said was true. Was the mechanism controlling those doors up there somewhere? How could he get up there to check? Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to relax some. He had a lot to think about, but had no idea where to start yet.

[purgatio]

Oh, that woman had been interesting, hadn't she? A bit full of herself, maybe, but he wouldn't be the one to talk. The game afterward had been a pleasant distraction, but--how much could something distract if its very subject was what he was trying to avoid? Mmm, not too smart, really. Oh, well. It was done, and he had enjoyed himself. There were a few interesting people around, ones he wouldn't truly mind.

There had been nothing from Nigredo after that solitary response, and Albedo, more sober than he was at breakfast, was starting to rethink if what he had sent had been the correct response. Was it true? Would he hold to it? Did he want it? All legitimate queries and sadly, mostly unknown. A second unknown would be the location of Rubedo, who hadn't been seen this morning. He had no wish to see his twin at all, but the quiet lack of his presence was an irritant, constant and disturbing; as much so as the fact that Rubedo was not twelve, but twenty-seven, and that his most hated and beloved claimed to have killed him.

Albedo still did not know if that thought, that future, was something to feel miserable about or joyful. He remembered in the sun room that night, when Rubedo had attacked him so full of hate as Albedo thrummed with the Song and U-DO's might, and for some reason, that made sense now. If Rubedo had killed him, he had hated him, right? And the words from the night prior.... Rubedo hated him. Fully and utterly. And Albedo wouldn't fall for his sweetly melting words any longer. And for that, something more broke in him, a loss held close enough to be ignored.

His thoughts consuming him, he barely noticed when he was led outside, until the nurse had led him past a group of people to a boy with dark hair. Albedo glared at the woman. "Oh, now, none of that," she tutted without concern. "You need to spend more time with children your age that aren't your family, dear. And Jordan here is your age. Have fun with him today."

The matter seemingly settled, the woman left. Albedo, still frowning, moved his gaze to the other boy, raising an eyebrow in question. Something was tugging at his mind, but currently, he couldn't recall it.