[Continued from here]

After they had left the building, Seishin had been uncertain about what they should do next. The documents hadn't specified anything regarding their return; only a time limit in which they were to complete the mission. Were they to be transported back in the same manner as how they had arrived? For now, he had suggested to wait at the spot they had arrived at.

But as time passed, as the day came to an end and the darkness of the night fell, it didn't look as though anything was going to happen. It was...anti-climatic. They had abandoned the mission, the tall building still looming over them as it had when they had first arrived. Hadn't they been threatened with punishment upon failure or refusal? So why were they still here, out in the streets? Why hadn't they been brought back to face the consequences of their decision?

Or rather, his decision...

"It seems as though they intend to leave us here for the time being," Seishin commented uncertainly, having no idea what this meant. Had their punishment meant that they would be abandoned here? That didn't seem very harsh, did it? Then, what of the rest of the patients?

He shifted his hold on the cleaver still in his hand. Why they had bothered giving him one when they couldn't even so much as touch anyone puzzled him to no end. Even the former priest had wanted to use it, it wasn't as though he had been able to.

[From here]

Once Seishin stepped through the door, he experienced a sensation of dizziness and disorientation. Once he regained his bearings, however, he realized he was in the middle of the street in front of a skyscraper, presumably the very building they had been told to blow up. He looked around, trying to make sense of how they had ended up here so suddenly (wherever 'here' was, for that matter). He noted that the door they had come through was nowhere to be seen.

This was-! Impossible? It was, but here they were defying common sense. What had happened? He had no idea what to make of this. None of these ideas would come anytime soon, the novelist realized. He shook his head. There would be a time to process this, but that time was not now.

The former priest realized he held things that he hadn't been holding previously. Seishin examined the sudden items, not trying to think about how they had ended up in his hands to begin with. They were maps and instructions as had been mentioned in the file, along with a... cleaver?! He held it up, blinking at it. They were to set explosives inside a building, what was he supposed to do with a cleaver? Did this mean they would need it?

It...did not quite bode well, did it?

Neither did the fact that this building was in the middle of a street. Barring the surrounding area, how high were the chances of it actually being occupied? His brow furrowed into a frown. Hopefully, they'd be able to warn whoever was inside. He dropped his arm back to his side again and turned his head to look at his companion.

"Gamzee-kun, are you al--"

Words died in his throat once the teen came into his field of vision. Emotion no longer as subtle as before, he could only stare with shock written upon his features.

It had only been seconds since he had spoken with the stranger, yet Seishin found himself back where he had started as though he had never left. Dawn had come quickly with him being none the wiser; if anything, his confusion had only increased. He did not recall ever heading back to this room, much less going to bed. Furthermore, the grays he had worn the day before had been replaced by a different uniform. Had they...changed him while he had been asleep?

How had he not remembered all this? Unless he had lost consciousness, somehow.

As confusing and sudden as it all was, Seishin had not been granted the time to process it. They had other plans for him. A soldier had already arrived, curtly informing him that his presence was needed "upstairs". The order had been a surprise, to say the least. He had quickly learned the mental institute had been but a facade to hide this apparent military's true purposes, yet this had never been mentioned. Was it common to be taken aside for unknown reasons? Despite the soldier's claim he would not be hurt as long as he offered them his cooperation, he could not quite help but to be wary of them.

But he did not have much of a choice, did he? So he followed the soldier, reluctantly, but quietly and without protest. He did not have a good feeling about this, though he kept his expression as neutral as he could. At least his life in Sotoba had been good for at least this much.

The tour of the institute, as brief as it was, ended in a cream-colored meeting room. There was a long glass table in the center, surrounded by leather chairs. He was to take a seat in one of them. Take a seat, and wait. For what, precisely? He could not even guess.

Reluctantly, he did as he was told, folding his hands on his lap as he waited.

> Gamzee: Procure four-wheeled device.

He eased the broken door aside enough to allow himself entry, peering at the equipment found within. This was the medical wing, after all. He should have expected lots of shiny metal equipment he wasn't familiar with. This wasn't exactly his area of expertise. (That area was regrettably small, admittedly.) He did recognize one particular item folded and set to the side, however. With a grin, Gamzee approached the wheelchair and unfolded it in what space he could find in the middle of the room.

Tavros had a four-wheeled device just like this one. ...Perhaps not just like this one. There were some subtle differences. The point was, Gamzee had always wanted to give it a go. Here, without anyone to stop him from messing around however he wanted, he might just get that chance.

He took a seat, and the device rolled forward a little. The troll quickly grabbed the wheels in order to stop himself from rolling into a stack of supplies. That was how Tavros moved about, he recalled. He had to grab and move the wheels himself. Simple enough.

Soon, he was rolling back out into the hall. ...Had the temperature of the area gone down recently?

> ==>

They hadn't handed him a cane this morning, and they'd been right.  His knee was healing.  It ached, but it held his weight.  Going out to the greenhouse and standing on it for a few hours was a bad idea, though.  If it gave out on him tonight, what would he say.  "Sorry, dudes, a bunch of tomatoes were more important.  Like actual tomatoes."  That sounded stupid in his head, so he'd stay indoors.  

His hands itched. For something to do. Metaphorical sense, not a rash.  Volunteering for KP would be a) pointless, b) not fix the standing-up problem, and c) suck, so he didn't.  It was almost worth trying just to see the expressions on  the goons faces, but the slim possibility that they'd take him up on it outweighed the chance to look under the mask Landel/Aguilar had put on the place by day.  

Instead, he limped over to the craft room and hassled them into bringing out the tray labeled 'Paul Quincy'.  Expressionless surprise was a funny expression.  You could tell new cops by it.  A little widening of the eyes, an absence of fidgeting for a few seconds.  The old ones weren't surprised by anything.  These guys had expected him to try and shoot the place up with a set of safety scissors or something.  Not to pull out craft supplies and ignore them completely, except for a glance or two at their initial reactions.   

A Zodiac wasn't much more than an inflatable pool raft with a big fucking motor on the back.  Put enough power back there and you could make one out of a brick.  No grace, but it went like he'll.  S.T. liked them. 

The boat that was taking shape on the table was of a different lineage.  About the right size for G.I. Joe to take his  entire platoon along when he went canoodling with Barbie while Ken was off on a business trip, it was long and slim.  Right now it was indistinguishable from a dinosaur-model ribcage, given that he'd started at the spine -- oops, keel -- and worked up.

[Free]

Anise was actually sleeping well for once. When morning came, she was curled up on her side, her arms tightly hugging her pillow in the same way they would usually hold Tokunaga.

All was peaceful... until she was awakened by a hateful voice.

Her eyes snapped open, and she jolted up into a sitting position. The Head Doctor... that bastard Landel was back! Those were her first thoughts, but as the haze of sleep gradually left her mind, she began to question whether that was actually true. There was something weird about the intercom announcement. She couldn't put her finger on it exactly, but... wasn't it a bit too much like another announcement she'd heard before?

"Did you sleep well, Dolores?" a nurse asked as she let herself into the room. No... she wasn't a nurse. It was that woman from yesterday - a soldier. Anise didn't want to start any trouble with her, so she merely answered with a nod as she pulled herself out of bed.

Wait a second... this wasn't her uniform. Well, it was, but it wasn't the one she was wearing last night. It looked like Anise was dressed in those gross-looking gray rags again, with only one noticeable difference: a pair of star-shaped stickers on the front, just above the smiley face on the left side. What was that for? And did this mean they weren't going to be treated like soldiers anymore?

Anise didn't have much time to wonder, as the "nurse" urged her to quickly finish getting ready, and to choose a place to go. As usual, Anise chose the Chapel. There was a bittersweet familiarity about the place. It reminded her of home, but it also reminded her of how far she was from home.

Once she was left alone, Anise sat down on an empty pew. She didn't feel much like praying today, and she still wasn't sure it would do any good, besides. Instead, she occupied herself by looking around at the decor and the staff, and then by picking up a hymnal and glancing through it. She really wanted to know what was going on... but it didn't seem like any clear answers were going to come right away.

[Edgar!]

[From here.]

It seemed the he was one of the first out tonight, though Castiel was not surprised that he had adapted to this routine so quickly. Heaven had involved far too much routine, and while being able to use his wings would have sped up this process a noticeable amount, he could at least make the nightly walk go by as swiftly as possible.

The halls were empty. Some people would have been frightened of a dark, quiet hallway, and yet Castiel hardly gave it a second thought. If he felt cold spots or saw flickering lights he would be on his guard, but at this point his only concern was getting to the meeting point.

[To here.]

Once again, dinner had passed by quietly, though Castiel could not complain about some solitude, even if it was spent in the company of one troubled teenager. He had gotten by with only a few bites of the food, the "Tasty Meal" from earlier having done an adequate job of sating his hunger.

And food would be the last thing to consider now that the lights had gone out and the doors had unlocked. Everything was silent tonight, and yet Castiel had to admit he preferred it that way. His roommate, the intercom system -- while a speech from the General might have granted them some more scraps of information, in this quiet he could truly focus.

Which was why he was able to collect his flashlight and radio within seconds, reminding himself once more of how he needed to arm himself better. That was something he should have asked Dean about, although it would be a hit to his pride to admit that he was the only who needed advice in this situation.

There was no place for pride, however. The next time they spoke, he would ask.

But it was another human entirely who he was meeting tonight. While he still knew very little about Orihara while the young man knew entirely too much, it was one of the few connections he'd made here and he needed to exploit it.

Castiel gave a small nod in Stefan's direction and then left the room and stalked down the hall.

[To here.]

Despite the rough start and the heavier snowfall, the buses managed to stay on route and on schedule. With minutes to spare, they arrived at the gates of Landel's Institute, back to the waiting arms of the military. All pretenses seemed to drop at this point, and the soldiers again took on their patented gruff exteriors. Patients were filed out of the buses in an orderly manner, eventually being escorted to their rooms for dinner in much the same. There, as promised by the personnel, well-behaved patients found their purchases among their returned possessions. A few even found new faces, though whether they brought as much joy as bought goods remained unseen.

The woman manning the intercom seemed to have missed the notice about the day's trip as her announcement remained no different from the usual. "Attention all subjects and personnel," she said. "Lights Out will commence within the hour."

A pause.

"I repeat, Lights Out will commence within the hour. All personnel: please report to your stations. The General will begin his address once preparations are underway. Thank you."

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. ANY NEWLY ACCEPTED CHARACTERS MAY POST TO THIS SHIFT (but are not obligated to if you would like to wait for Nightshift or Dayshift); please refer to the new room assignments before posting. Thank you! ]

> ==>

The room was adorned in inky shades, thin rectangles of complete darkness cropping out here and there amid the stygian depths. Rose squinted, and opened the door as wide as possible to let what bare wisps of refracted light might join them.

Not a curved line to be seen. It was just like home, except without the sound of rushing water. She took a few steps in. The rectangle in the center was, from the smooth feel of laminate under her hands, merely a table. Not a round table, but one with a clear demarcation between head and plebes, the site of many a schoolchild's ruination.

"Do you see anything unusual?" Anything human might be out of the ordinary for a troll, but from what little she could make out, it was entirely too normal around here.

> ==>

"I trust you won't mind if I turn my flashlight back on." Her voice was conversational, and only experience would reveal that she had no intention of taking anything other than No for an answer. Or yes, if Gamzee was stymied by something so simple as a double negative.

"You might not have noticed, but I can't see in the dark." She switched it back on, pointing down what was revealed to be -- surprise! - -another corridor, lined with doors. There might not be any familiar faces, but she was becoming very tired of doors.

The first one was locked. So was the second. "Interesting." Now they were getting somewhere. Silver flashed in her minds eye. There had been a keyring in that drawer, which she'd disregarded. Too soon, it appeared.

"They seem to have forgotten to issue us keys." Fetch quests? Again? This time with physical keys rather than more fanciful alternatives? The reviews for this game descended another notch from Incomplete Tripe straight past Wastebasket Filler to Litter Box Liner in one graceful arc. Still, it was good to see that some things were predictable.

> Gamzee: Ascend stairs

More corridors, these lit by more faint moonlight rather than assorted unintelligent battery-powered devices. (First thing on the agenda -- alchemize some glow-in-the dark accessories. Hands-free illumination and fashion statement all in one. They were probably stuck with the outdated motif, but a little judicious alteration could fix that. That was, provided, that this was someone's home planet, and they were one return node away from a working alchemiter.)

There were at least four paths forward, counting both visible doors and halls, and arrayed in no obvious progression. The gates, for all their evasive backtracking, had kept to an internal logic. This...sprawled, with neither the mechanical precision of a game nor the open utility of home sweet home. Even her first attempts at building had had more structure than this.

Okay, maybe not. But John had been too busy bouncing to notice her initial, hesitant forays into architecture. This could be a house, after the liberal application of grist and a complete lack of taste.

"I take it you haven't recognized anything?" Low expectations had never stopped her from trying before; persistence made an adequate substitute for perceptiveness, given enough time.

> Gamzee: Ascend stairs

Whoever had built this hive lacked a certain sense of style. Not that Gamzee was going to judge too much, of course. Everyone was free to build their structures however they wanted. However, if it had been up to him he would have added a little more color.

He followed the girl up the stairs, still marveling at the way things felt in this new body. It was shaped so similarly, and yet everything felt so off. He was also squinting against the circle of light Rose was casting ahead of her up the stairway. It hadn't been so big of a problem in the larger halls before now, but this area was so much more confined. Why was she hindering her ability to see like that? It darkened everything it didn't touch.

Not that it wasn't nice to look at anyway. He'd always had a soft spot for flashing lights. "There a reason for the motherfuckin' glow, sis?"

[> ==>]

"How many players were there in your session?" All indicators -- towers, rings, planets -- had pointed to their session having always been meant as four-player, but that didn't a priori restrict there from being parallel sessions that had now deparallelized into one big mass confusion.

Most of them weren't what she would have, working from a well-trained amateur eye, pegged as successful gamers. Gamzee fit the appropriate demographic like a stained thrift-store t-shirt; poorly, and with glaring flaws, but also thematically poignant.

The adults were a conundrum. Would they, too, launch themselves into the Medium with the blessings of their aged forefathers? It seemed unlikely.

[from here]

Wally yelped as his powers propelled him into the next hallway and, as it would turn out, a wall. He hit it with a thump loud enough to rattle his teeth and make his head throb as he slowly pulled himself back up to his feet.

"I'm okay," he announced for the benefit of what turned out to be an empty hall. Which was fine by him because he really didn't need people seeing the Flash running into solid objects like that. It'd raise some questions about why his control was so off and he really didn't want to get into those right now. At least he'd stopped in the next hallway and not the other side of the institute, so that was something. Backtracking would have been even more embarrassing.

"Well, I guess that's just another reason not to do any running just yet," he muttered to himself and headed towards the sun room. Get through that and then he'd hit the cafeteria and, after that, the kitchens and a better chance at finding something to eat.

[to here]

[From here.]

Her boots fell with heavy sounds on the smooth floor. She was on the verge of stomping. The loudness struck her about halfway through the new hall, and Claire finally took a deep breath. She didn't pause, but her footsteps came lighter. She slowed.

It wasn't a good idea to be making so much noise. Even with the flashlight giving her away. If she didn't keep a level head, she could land herself in a lot of trouble. Though she might welcome another chance to beat on something right now, it wasn't the time or the place.

Claire sunk her teeth into her lower lip, and carried on.

[To here.]

[From here.]

All righty. First one here. Surprise surprise.

Peter took a thin breath and took up a post across from the hall, where he could watch both entrances for the gang. His arms crossed and he leaned against the wall. The whole thing was rather broody-looking, to be honest. Not the kind of chipper attitude you expected from a guy dressed like a cast member of Cirque du Soleil.

He was allowed to have bad moods. They happened. He hadn't started the night in one, but he'd tripped into it easily enough on his own. That sort of thing happened when your life sucked this much, okay. There was no sanctuary from the suckage. He sighed yet again. It'd be easier to perk up once somebody else showed up. Then he could push his mind away from all of this garbage and pound some small talk out of it.

Not to mention that waiting out here alone in the big hallway was twice as creepy as it was moving alone through the little ones. His flashlight swung back and forth. Please don't let anything be creeping on me in the dark. Please please please...

He was so not in the mood for whatever monstrosities were lying in wait for him. And knowing Landel's, they were.

[For the Platonic Family!! Y'all know who you are.]