...apparently being vampired made the zombie go away. Junpei wasn't sure what to make of this development. yes, he was quite happy that he no longer wanted to go gnaw on someone's arm, but... vampire. He'd seriously swallowed vampire flesh (complete with vampire blood) and then that same vampire drank his blood. That was a bad combination, according to movies, books and other folklore. Not that Junpei could really remember a whole ton of vampire lore that would be useful in determining if he'd been properly vampirized. As it was, Evangeline didn't exactly come across as a typical vampire, so anything he he knew may very well be useless. That didn't make him feel any better. He supposed he'd find out if he started wanting to suck on people's necks in a non-sexual manner.

As it was, the teen was terrified he'd feel some kind of mystical pull dragging him to Evangeline to do her menial work, like carrying her shit and laying down over a puddle of mud so she could walk across him or something equally as lame and humiliating for a servant to do. Seriously, he did not want to find himself calling her Master and holding her purse at the mall while she tried on a bunch of dresses and shit.

...what if she made him do, like, evil things? Now he really wished he hadn't told her about Persona and let her see him burninate that unholy drain clog. She could do all sorts of things, make him do them, and he might be vampirically driven to do them. Evangeline would be a cruel master. Gods, she terrified him.

It was a good thing he was giving Yukari the Evoker that night. He set out to meet her once he decided that he wasn't getting called to be Evangeline's bitch that night. His armor, baseball bat, jersey and the closet rod were all in the mesh bag slung over his shoulder.

...his arm itched. Stupid vampire.

[to here]

The intercom's jingle signaled yet another announcement.

"And our excellent behavior continues! Well, I am extremely impressed indeed!

"In any case, it's time to stop our socializing, unfortunately, and for the patients to return to their quarters for dinner. Be aware that new roommates have been assigned due to our influx of new patients and discharged old ones, so please be hospitable should you find yourself with someone new!

"As for dinner itself: tonight, we'll be serving shrimp and vegetable tempura along with delicious chicken teriyaki. Yum, yum, yum! As sides, we will also be serving boiled, salted soybeans, rice, and of course the appropriate soy and tempura sauces. Our regular assorted drinks and vegetarian substitutes are also available.

"I hope you enjoy your meal!"

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. Find new room assignments here. ]

Today was really trying to rain on her parade, wasn't it?

Well, it wasn't gonna work! Hanna was determined to stay strong and cheerful, in spite of Kenshin throwing a mega bitchfit and that the chick from the library being… Yeah. Her flightiness had been bad enough, but the half glossed-over memories had bordered on terrifying. Had she really been that far gone? It had to have been the meds. Just the meds. Yuffie was a douchey, semi-sociopathic klepto ninja thing, but even in that imagined world of hers, she hadn't gone around slashing people to ribbons for fun. Had she? Ugh, Hanna didn't even know anymore. Crazy people were capable of crazy stuff

Hanna's gut clenched just thinking about it, and she turned determinedly back to her lunch. The food wasn't exactly great, but it was better than some of the stuff she'd eaten. Like Stan's Deep fried Twinkie and mashed banana hot pot. Or, y'know, the normal stuff that teenage semi-runaways ate. Craptastic sandwiches and super economy potato chips, when she could get them, and whatever was in Tiffany's fridge when she couldn't. Dignity was dignity, and dignity was important, but being able to scratch a living from a rock was a handy life skill to have.

Stuffing another few chips in her mouth, Hanna did her best to ignore the door—and, by proxy, anybody who happened to come through it. Nostalgia trip aside, hadn't the Head Nurse said something about a whole new batch of crazycakes? Now she'd feel even more like a sardine than ever. Great.

[ For Cloud? :D ]

[from here]

Once inside, Junpei shut the door and swept the area with his flashlight. Good. No creepy crawlies were visible, and he wasn't about to wait to see if any emerged.

Having been in there before, he knew exactly what he wanted and where it was located. Grabbing a mesh bag, Junpei emptied the soccer balls out of it. With an uncharacteristic efficiency fueled by the knowledge that the longer it took him, the longer Evangeline would be waiting (which couldn't be good), he stuffed the leg and chest pieces of a catcher's set into the bag and then grabbed a pair of soccer shin guards to serve as bracers.

Ready to go, Junpei was about to swing the bag over his shoulder when he decided to grab a catcher's mask while he was at it. Just in case. He didn't really think Okita would be taking shots at his face, but he'd rather not ruin his rugged good-looks because he didn't have protection. Now he was ready.

[to here]

Oh gods, it was back. He was going to end up trying to eat someone. Junpei just knew it. last night he managed to avoid that by not leaving his room, mostly because he was waiting for Ryouji who never showed, but that didn't matter. What mattered was Junpei couldn't stay put in his room this night. He needed to blow off some steam. He needed to get some armor for tomorrow's training. He needed to go meet Evangeline before she decided to turn him into a newt.

Being a newt would suck.

At least he had jeans, a t-shirt that didn't have a stupid smiley face on it and a hat to wear. That made him feel moderately better, even if he was the walking dead with a taste for human flesh. At least he still looked like himself, the rotting flesh only visible on his ankle, which was covered up by his pants. With a pair of heavy boots on, walking didn't hurt much. Oh, it still hurt, but he wasn't limping about. It seemed Trismegistos still had some regenerating punch in this damned place.

Grabbing his baseball bat, Junpei gave a pathetic sigh before he left his room. Time to get the evoker.

[to here]

[From here]

Ugh, she was really gonna have to figure out a good way to strap the shuriken to her back. Keeping it constantly in hand was kind of reassuring, but it was also hella impractical. Practicality came before comfort, especially in a place like this. A whole bunch of her techniques had the shuriken starting out on her back; if that wasn't an incentive to do something about it, nothing was.

Yuffie peered around the hallway she'd just stepped into. Deserted. Again. Sheesh, what was everybody doing? Hiding in their rooms and hoping the Big Bad didn't sneak in to get them? Or… Well, okay, it wasn't like Yuffie hadn't loitered in her room before, so maybe she could understand. Maybe.

Shaking her head, she trekked onward.

[To here]

[From here]

Hime peered out into the hallway. It was mostly empty; it seemed she was one of the first to come out of their cells. While this presented the problem of wandering alone without the cover of the herd, this also gave her a chance to scout out the population as they left their rooms. While Hime had confidence in her fighting abilities, she had no delusions about taking on whatever horrors lurked here by herself. Besides, she needed to find people who could fight; the basement did not sound like the kind of place one explored on their own, or even with just one other.

Recalling that all the patient rooms filtered out into the main hallway, Hime headed that way.

[To here]

[from here]

He really had beat the rush. Suzaku found a chair as close to the corner and as far from the bulletin as he could, and turned it to face the wall before curling up in it. His nurse frowned at him again, but she was still being cooperative, and frankly he didn't care what she had to say in the slightest. He didn't care even if he got sedated. All he cared about was finally having a few moments to himself, to sort out what Euphie's love meant and what the hell Lelouch's problem was.

It felt like he had all the pieces of a puzzle and was just too stupid to figure out how they fit together. What Lelouch had said about Shirley at breakfast and the tone he'd taken with Euphie on the board, Lelouch asking how Suzaku was, Lelouch dying. . . "All we can do is move forward and look out for the ones we care about." Euphie struggling to get out her last words, pain overtaking Suzaku's consciousness while he fought pathetically to carry out Lelouch's order. . . The last couple days, when he'd felt like he was finally figuring this out, seemed so far away now.

There were a couple things that were certain, at least: he hated what Lelouch had done, he always would. But he -- he didn't hate Lelouch, and he hadn't for a while now, and that wasn't going to change. And he didn't have much time, because everyone but Suzaku was terrifyingly mortal. And Lelouch was an idiot, but he still wasn't sure about the how and why of that one yet.

[for the Saucinator]

Yuffie had died.

No, really. Seriously. She had actually died. Bleeding all over the place, making a horrid, sticky mess and scaring the hell out of Suzaku; she remembered it clearly. Kind of. Sort of. Through the blood loss, the pain, and the visions. Through Aerith's voice whispering in her ear, Cloud's stricken eyes, and her own panic. As bad nights went, it had been Bad, capital B and all the trimmings, and oh, god. She sat, trembling on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and hands pressed hard over her racing heart. The by-play between Landel—Landel!—and Lydia barely even sunk in. There was nothing in the whole world, any world, that could prepare you for something like…

Had it all been some kind of hallucination?

Had she imagined the whole thing?

No… She didn't think so. Nightmarish or not, Yuffie knew reality. But if it had been real, how was she alive now? That kind of pain wasn't something you could just cook up, was it? She thought about it all the way to the cafeteria, drifting behind her nurse without focus or intent. Maybe if she tried to stay clinical, tried to step back… But she'd never been good at that when things got personal. And every time she closed her eyes or blinked, she swore that the scenes played back to her, like an overused commercial on a crappy channel on a crappy TV, in a run-down dump of an inn that smelled like mothballs and yesterday's breakfast.

The scent of blood and damp, rotted wood clogged her nose. Disgusted, Yuffie shoved her bowl of cereal—handed to her by a clucking Plucky—off to the side so that she could melt into her chair, palm heels scrubbing against her eyes. Too much. This was… Too much. She couldn't even paste a plastic smile on her face to make herself feel better. Her usual shield, the white noise of inane babble that could filter out almost any crisis, was in tatters all around her. Five minutes, she gave herself.

Five minutes (not) to think, five minutes to get her act together, because there was no way she could let herself shatter here. No way…

[Closed to Sheena]

Ignoring the pain in his broken arm, Snake crept along the hallway. He had brought only the matches and hairspray with him, hooked into the band of his pants, needing no light. His feet made no sound. Even that vision of the corridor earlier hadn't phased him like his much-loved old Outer Heaven flashbacks usually did, as he was far too focused on his mission.

He had been checking the men's block rooms, one at a time. Most of them were vacated; some were not, and even the sounds of movement inside those ones were enough to reassure him that they were not the rooms that belonged to Big Boss.

Systematically, he started down the furthest corridor in the block to the south of his own, starting with room M10. The door was, of course, unlocked, and he cautiously pushed it open. Like many of the others, it seemed empty, but for less than a second he caught a trace of Big Boss's smell. It was enough to lure him into the room, even though no-one was visible. Had he imagined it?

[M10]

Hello! I.R.I.S. here once more to announce to you, our honored guests, that you have officially made it through a day of our typical Landel's treatment. Of course, it isn't quite over: we will now have you retire to our designated patient quarters with one of your agency partners to inspect their sleeping area and the tools that we provide them with for the true bulk of our behavioral testing. On an added note, we would like you to notice once again that the meals we provide to our subjects are of the highest quality.

For those of you feeling apprehensive about taking part in our more intensive methods, please be aware that we would never imagine putting all of you in any danger whatsoever. This last shift will be your last at our Institute; afterward, we will escort you to our Head Doctor's personal observation station to survey some of our test Next-Wave participants in the rigorous trials we put them through – all for their betterment, of course.

Once again, we hope that you are satisfied with what you find, and as always, direct any questions you may have to your console.

The nurses began to escort the patients to their rooms. They didn't even seem to be brought to awareness by words such as "testing" and "subjects."

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. (Find all of the newly changed room assignments and shift introductions here.) If you are introducing your character during this shift, you may either choose for them character to wake up before their roommate gets back, or after. ]

When the shift changed, HK stayed put. Even after a long night of zombie killing, he had no interest in meatbag fuel, especially after all the discussion of chocolate with that rather strange meatbag. It was just making him crave the stuff even more than he had previously, if that was possible.

Oh, right. He was supposed to be looking for someone who was "VERY LARGE, WITH DARK HAIR." And also seemed to not know what lower-case letters were on the bulletin. As if that would help. He'd seen a likely candidate last shift, but talk of chocolate had distracted him.

S.T. was bored. Bored and feeling useless. He'd stomped around town, looking for a distraction from his own self-pitying funk, as the light had waned. Boredom and feigned anticipation had given way to dread. He'd circled back around to the grocery to see if there was anything less useless on the bulletin. No dice.

Then it happened. Everything changed, without the comfort of a closed door and an unchanging dormitory room. Usually it was like an elevator with a dinner service -- if the doors open on the same sight as you left, either it's a crap elevator or you're in a stockbroker's office tower. And if it were the latter, the food would need more unpronounceable French things.

This had no frame, no steady point of reference. The smell of rotting fruit, esters and alcohol, hit him first. Papers curled and became brittle. The ambient temperature dropped at least five degrees.

It was night, and the closest thing he had to a weapon was a ballpoint pen and a rack of rotting tomatoes. At least he hoped the tomatoes were on his side.

[for Spider Jerusalem, open to threadcrashing once we get going]

[from here]

Junpei burst out of the Twin Pines, dragging his chair along with him. Wide eyed, with sweat dripping down his face (he was so not crying), the teen stared at the hordes of zombies in the street. What was he going to do? He could still feel Chidori's presence, so she had to be alright. She had to be - right? RIGHT?

"SENPAI!!" Junpei yelled at the top of his lungs, hoping one of his senpai would find him. He was alone, surrounded by zombies, and didn't have an evoker. He was scared. "MITSURU-SENPAI! AKIHIKO-SENPAI! WHERE ARE YOU?"

The sudden zombie apocalypse forced any thoughts that Junpei had been pissed off at Akihiko and avoiding him. Akihiko could punch a zombie and makes its head explode. Mitsuru could kick a zombie and make its head explode (no matter where she kicked it). Junpei? He could... swing his chair ineffectually at the closest zombie as it tried to eat his brains. Good thing he didn't have much of them; maybe they would get a whiff and decide to go after someone smarter. Which made him think of Yukari.

"YUKA-TAN!"

Shit. No one was there for him to hide behind to help him. Maybe he could find them the next street over. It had to be called Main Street for a reason, right?

He tried to sneak across the street, hoping maybe this hat they gave him had some kind of special stealth mode, but forgot he was still clutching to his chair. Junpei tripped over it, screaming like a little girl in the process. Zombies descended and the teen struggled,m kicking and punching and pathetically swinging the chair around in an attempt to get back to his feet. He cried out in pain when he felt something bite his ankle, but the chair came down and crushed that zombie's head. Struggling to his feet, Junpei just ran, swinging the chair back at the zombies he'd just escaped as he entered the alley across from the restaurant.

[to here]

At first, the idea of being stuck in this meatbag dwelling sector at night seemed like a wonderful idea. So many targets, such an open field, and so many things that could be repurposed for use as weapons!

...Then he saw all the zombies. After the talk of those 'space barnacles' last night, it was fairly easy to identify them as such. But the only thing was, those things were supposed to only affect droids.

Now there were meatbag zombies. All over the place. And he didn't have a flamethrower. Oh no no no nononono.

In short, HK freaked out.

Being inside a building, the setting of the sun was not as prevalent as it would have been outdoors. Beatrix had enjoyed a pleasant meal alone after she had left the elf and her companion outside. She'd just been getting up, folding her napkin to set on her plate at the behest of her nurse, then the change came. Being right next to her nurse, it wasn't hard to miss.

"Fuck," the Bride stated, realizing that she was currently bereft of her sword and other armaments. That did not mean she wasn't still deadly. The assassin wasted no time, immediately grabbing her nurse and snapping the woman's neck while she was still in the twisted throws of change. The body went limp and hit the ground, laying still, once she'd let go.

More, there were more. Cold eyes darted around the restaurant, noting the other prisoners remained the same, though many were already frightened and others moving as she did, but the wait staff had all changed. They'd become...

"Zombies?" What the hell was this? Beatrix felt like she was in a bad adaptation of a George Romero film. This lead her to wonder if these were Type I or Type II zombies. Best to find out.

When the first zombie waitress came at her, Beatrix met it and , after blocking its attempt to bite her (duly noted), she grabbed its head and twisted sharply. The zombie's neck snapped and, just like her nurse, the creature went limp and fell to the floor. Type II it was. This was most beneficial as she didn't have anything sharp to...

The kitchen.

The Bride fought her way to the restaurant's kitchen, snapping a few more zombie necks along the way, and shoved the swinging double doors to the kitchen open with enough force to knock the zombies trying to come through back. She snapped the largest zombie's neck, the chef from the tattered remains of its clothing, and then headed further into the kitchen. Jumping up onto the stainless steel counter, she quickly crossed the kitchen amid the sea of the zombified kitchen staff. On the far wall, she could see the magnetic board holding the knives.

Kicking the nearest zombie in the head to get it out of the way, Beatrix jumped the aisle between the two counters and grabbed the knives. She was glad for the jacket she was wearing as it had large inner pockets (thank God for bad eighties fashion) and stuffed three of the knives into the pocket after wrapping them in a cleaning rag that had been on the counter. She then took the two largest knives left (there was no way she'd be able to take all of them) and brandished them at the advancing zombies.

Yes, a bad George Romero film. With a narrowing of her eyes, the assassin watched the small horde before leaping to the opposite counter to give her more maneuverability. She needed to find her associates, but clearing the restaurant to make it something like a safe-house would be a good idea. The children needed someplace safe to hole up in, after all. Zombie-killer was never a title she ever thought she'd have tacked onto her name.

The zombies in the kitchen didn't last long.

Yuffie took the long way around, practically making it a tour of the entire town. She collared--not literally, since the nurses would've thrown fits--a few random citizens along the way, asked as many inconspicuous sounding questions as possible, and then moved on. Wash, rinse, repeat. Sneaking a few covert glimpses into stores and windows confirmed what she'd been talking about with Sam earlier; no dates, no explicitly mentioned locations outside of the town itself… how weird was that? Even the most insular of towns back on Gaia would've coughed up some kind of connection with the outside world.

It was almost like a living ghost town.

Well, maybe she was just thinking too hard. Maybe she was throwing shuriken too hard at the wrong target. Back home, she had a concrete frame of reference. Here, she couldn't take anything for granted; she had no local or international knowledge whatsoever. All she could try to do was get a profile of the immediate area and build it up and out from there. Theories were already budding, popping up like weeds hit by Quadra-Haste, but without facts to back them up, theories were like sand in a desert.

Not that she didn't want to share those theories, sand or not. She did. A lot.

Once she'd developed a viable mental map of the place (as viable as she was gonna get given the time constraints), Yuffie swung back around and jogged back to North Street. From there, she took the alley; a quick right turn; slow to a trot, and there. Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold winter air, and they stung as she poked her head in through the door.

Okay, so maybe she was a little early after all. That was cool. Very cool. She had some time to set things up, to pretend that she wasn't hideously under prepared for this lunch date. Stepping into the warmth, Yuffie surreptitiously cased the place out as she headed to a table. Homey, in a way that almost reminded her of some of the up-and-coming rural towns. Automatically seeking out one of the more strategic seats--one with a good view of the rest of the restaurant, and one that didn't leave her totally vulnerable to mutant chairs or murderous sandwiches--she made herself comfortable, whipped out a few crumpled pieces of paper and a pen, and began to jot down her findings.

[Closed to Edgeworth.]

Senna stepped off the bus to wind blowing through the clothes she was given. A sad face at one of the nurses allowed her a long red scarf as well, and once she had draped it around her neck and let it hang down her back, she had trotted off.

The park she had saw last time seemed a good place to be on the look-out for the chicks from last night. It was close to the buses, and a big enough place that if they remembered that they had a race date, it would suit its purpose. The girl ran to a place in the middle of the field and waited there, shifting her weight from side to side. After a while, this wasn't enough, and Senna traded back and forth between jogging in place and acrobatics--the easy flips and cartwheels keeping her warm.

Her mind had changed in the night before. She had gotten a taste of what leadership entailed, and she wasn't sure she had rose to the occasion or not. She knew she had tried her best, and had been willing to give as much as she had, but it hadn't been enough. She knew this. Hokuto, at least, had gotten hurt, and in the end, they still hadn't explored more than the schoolhouse. They really needed a different approach with that place.

She went back and forth internally, body going through the motions and reflexes of her movements.

[for... Falis, Hokuto, Meche, and Soma?--and down to here]

After the way night had ended (Miku wasn't sure if they'd ever get the smell of charnel out of her clothes), and morning had returned with its clockwork weirdness. She was hurried onto the bus in her dark red long coat and the dark, knee-length, slightly full dress beneath it. It was surprisingly warm, Miku noted, but that could've just been her body lying to her legs, which were going to be undoubtedly chillier through the day. As always with these trips, her nurse had taken the opportunity to channel Little Red Riding Hood into her patient's life.

Oh, well, she didn't mind that much. It was just clothing.

Miku slid into a seat with her bag of breakfast and her camera in her pocket. She couldn't help shake the feeling of oncoming dread that had started with the end of the night's bleeding walls. Maybe she was just being silly, maybe she shouldn't listen to the alarm ringing in the back of her mind.

But still, she couldn't help but to wonder what it was leading to.

[Waiting for Peter]

[from here]

Junpei eased the door open and peered inside. No movement that he could see, so he lead the way inside. For some reason, he expected the women's bathroom to look different then the men's. Well, aside from the obvious lack of urinals.

"So how much did we need to get?"