The last trip into Doyleton, Tifa had been shoved into a nearby beauty salon while it poured rain. Rain, she was pretty confident, wouldn't kill you (unless you were in Midgar. Those storm clouds practically glowed with the amount of radiation they absorbed), but her former nurse hadn't been very receptive to criticism. It had ultimately worked out for the best since she had a coupon for a free manicure, but the one other girl in the store wouldn't stand for it.

Yuffie never struck the older woman as the girly type, but to turn down a free service was unfathomable. She had put her foot down, and no amount of tantalizing tasty burger coupons had fixed that.

So for now, Tifa watched the manicurist from the street outside the shop's large window as she finished up a local appointment. It wasn't as if Tifa was afraid to brave it alone, but it would be nice to have a partner in aesthetics. She looked around casually hoping to spot someone she knew. Perhaps a burst of spiky yellow hair would come walking down the street? It could happen!

[For Cloud Claude]

After extricating himself from Harvey's company, Peter found himself at an utter loss for what to do. He drifted away from the park (too cold for that), munching on his breakfast muffin and searching out some place where $15 might be useful. The coupon pack was about as helpful as it had ever been. He wandered past Pearl's Prettification Parlour, took a long look at the matching coupon, and kept on walking.

Nope.

He was having trouble deciding what to do at all, actually. With his breakfast soon gone, he wasn't in the mood for food. That cut out the restaurants. And the grocer. And he didn't particularly like the idea of staying outside. Not just for the cold, but...memories took longer to fade than he'd like. Injured as he was and paranoid as ever, Peter could almost feel the rotten bodies pressing in from every side. And Harry had been right over there.

Peter paused, staring at the pristine walls and streets covered in snow. It had only been two weeks. Shouldn't there still be some sign that it happened at all?

Standing around digging at old wounds would help no one today. He had money, and he should make use of it. Yet the rest of the fare in Doyleton was a little kitschy for his liking, so he kept on walking, hoping to strike gold or have miraculously missed a store on his last few trips in. In the span of ten minutes, he'd already hit the other side of town.

What was this magic. How could anyone survive in a hamlet like this? They didn't even have a proper hot dog stand. Were really those so hard to get? God, he missed New York. If Peter had fifteen dollars and was in New York right now, that money would have vanished lickety split. Here, the pickings were so slim he was actually contemplating screwing it all and buying himself a pack of Cheetos and a coke. If they even sold that.

Maybe he'd overlooked something. Didn't think a possibility through. Peter turned right around and started trekking back the way he came, scanning each shop front with great care and quietly wondering if they could ever take a field trip to somewhere worthwhile.

[FOR SAKURA HARUNO.]

[From here]

The first bit of clarity came with the sudden realization that her butt was wet. Frowning, Tifa took her eyes from a rusty-edged door and looked down. She was sitting on a toilet!

"Ahh--!" Her scream dried in her throat to nothing more than a whisper as she flew off the porcelain with all haste. It would be hard to fight zombies in a cubicle if sounded the alarm this quickly. Her back slammed against the bathroom door, leaving her to topple out and onto the ground. Oh god, how thankful she was to have put on those gloves. The floor was surprisingly free of water and urine, but she still doubted this tile got washed all that often.

It was a delicate affair getting back on her feet, one that took more time than necessary, but she had all night long to finish this. Might as well not catch anything if she could help it. Once she made it to the mirrors above the sinks, Tifa noticed the true danger she was in.

This is the men's room. IT'S THE MEN'S ROOM!

The young woman didn't know where to look! The urinals were a terror, the tile was yellow, the walls... she wasn't even sure what the walls were covered in. The mirrors were her best bet. She kept here eyes on her own and just side-stepped her way out of there. With a hand on the door, Tifa slowly pushed it open, keeping the knife in her right hand. With no electricity running through the town (let alone the bar), Tifa could see her breath in the dark. At the time, she hadn't thought she'd need extra layers, having braved Gaea's Cliffs with a bra and not much else, but now it had been a wise choice indeed.

She kept low, crouching for safety and warmth, and tip-toed further into the establishment. Nothing around her suggested she was with company, but more than one person had told her the owner of the bar roamed free at night. She had a knife and her bare hands against an undead. The outcome wasn't in her favor, so the longer she could avoid that the better.

They'd taken her to a new room at dinner. Her roommate wasn't there. Instead, there was an unfamiliar figure wrapped in blankets, seemingly dead to the world.

There had been a box as well. Beside it was her axe, and inside there was her bag and her knife, and her old clothes. Claire had stood in front of it for some time, wide eyed. Anger boiling, scarring her insides. They had it the whole time...they had...

So nothing mattered then. Did it? They knew all along that she had this stuff. They knew she had weapons, that she had gone to Doyleton with Andrew to get them. They knew this whole thing was a stupid joke, and they could take her from wherever she was and drop her wherever they wanted. Could give her stuff from before. Claire had pursed her lips and clenched her fists around the musty flannel shirt. It was all just a joke to them. They had total control of their lives, and they could just...

Shocking how good of a sleeper her new roommate was. Claire could have sworn the fit she had thrown after finding the box would have woken the dead. Her desk lay in splinters, gruel spilled upon the floor amongst the shattered remains of dishes. Even her bed was slashed to ribbons, the knife drawn through the mattress and sheets until it looked as if a wild beast had been set upon it. The box, being metal, was impervious to the axe and the knife. But it did make a rather large dent where Claire had hurled it against the wall.

Now that night had come and the latest ominous message delivered, Claire stood at the ready. She was out of the military uniform, back in her ragged - but familiar - clothes from the island. Her bag slung over one shoulder and axe in hand, she left the room, seething madly.

They had better get something done tonight. Claire had had enough of this.

[To here.]

Snow doubled in number as the day transitioned into the evening hours. Unfortunately, none of the patients were allowed the time to enjoy the weather changes. They were instead greeted by the telltale jingle of the intercom, signaling their cue to return indoors.

Once again, they heard the voice of a familiar female. She sounded unchanged from her previous announcements, her intonation as clear and as flat as ever.

"Attention all subjects and personnel. All subjects are to return to their assigned rooms for their evening meal. Lights Out will commence shortly after."

The woman paused, seemingly for effect.

"All personnel: you are to report to your stations. 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! ]

Though five days without bathing was hardly unusual for Rita, she was actually looking forward to showering today. To her, the last shift had been somewhat enjoyable, if only because it allowed her an opportunity to be alone with her thoughts for a bit. Of course, she couldn't be completely alone in the communal showers, but no one was rude enough to disturb her in there, which was good enough for her.

Once the shift was over, she re-applied the bandages on her leg and knee, dressed herself, and made her way to the cafeteria. The pain in her knee seemed to lessen as the day progressed, and her slight limp became less noticeable to herself. Hopefully it wouldn't impede her much come nightfall.

Upon entering the cafeteria, however, Rita found that she had more immediate problems to deal with. What was that slop they were serving?

Deaf to her complaints, a soldier quickly ushered her into the line for the pink gruel. While waiting, Rita became aware of a section in the room where edible food was being served... but apparently only to selected patients. Whose butt did they have to kiss to get that treatment?

After receiving her "meal" (using the word very loosely), Rita found an empty area to sit in. There, she made no move for her utensils, but instead glared at the plate of mush as if the food itself had somehow wronged her.

[For Woody]

[F2. Continued from here.]

But not all light was gone from the room, at least not for long. After the corpse-like woman left the intercom, and after her serious-sounding male replacement had finished his warning, a faint golden light faded into existence. Rapunzel couldn't place the source right away - it seemed to be coming from everywhere in the edges of her vision, casting a bright haze over things as it strengthened. Quickly enough, however, she realized that the glow was familiar. Very familiar. Like so intensely familiar it hurt. The glow was coming from the top of her head, and it was slowly spreading down from the roots of her hair, down, down, down to the tips.

Rapunzel could only watch, dumbfounded as her hair grew. It grew and grew and grew and grew, spiraling into a pile at the foot of the bed, all the while her scalp pulsating with the warmth of her magic. "I... I-I—" She couldn't get a word out until it was all finished. Still not as long as it had been before, but there it was. Her hair was back, almost entirely intact.

She looked back up at the dark-haired girl, still gawping at the sight as the glow faded back into the darkness. "I... Oh my gosh, I can't believe it." Rapunzel sifted a hand into her locks, pulling a section up and drawing it through her fingers to make sure it was really there. "I-I guess I don't have to explain anymore. This is what I was missing! Why is it back now, though? I mean, I heard someone say things 'get better at night', but I didn't think...!"

Rapunzel pushed herself back to her feet, wobbling as she nearly tripped over the pile of hair in the dark. "Did something happen to you just now? Did you feel anything different? Tell me this isn't just me!"

[From here.]

The big connecting corridor. He may be in a rush, but this hallway deserved extra caution. What would he do if he tried to get to Stefan and ended up mauled on the way there? The first night when he'd smelled blood here, it was still a bit... haunting. It meant there was a chance of something lurking, dragon or not.

Dammit, he was trying to reminisce again. Less thinking, more walking (which, as things went, was actually a feat for a vampire. It came with the whole multi-tasking thing.)

Sweeping his light through the length of the corridor, Edward inspected every bit of wall the light touched, eyes darting like a bird's for any sign of movement. Still no patients. At least the stillness would make it easy to see any potential ambush. At least, that's what he was going to tell himself.

[To here.]

The jingle of the intercom seemed ill-timed this round, a fact that was further pronounced by the pleasant voice following suit.

"Hello, patients. This is I.R.I.S. again. Due to technical difficulties, we are unable to speak to you directly at this time. Until the matter is resolved, we will be announcing the remainder of today's events from our automated service.

It is now time for everyone to retire to their assigned rooms for Dinner Shift. Tonight's menu consists of premium spaghetti with Landel's signature marinara sauce, garlic bread, and a side of Caesar salad. Our dessert for tonight is chocolate chip cookies. In addition, we will be providing the usual selection of drinks, and vegetarian alternatives can be made available upon request.

We again would like to apologize for any inconvenience. Please contact your nurse with any questions or concerns you might have. Thank you, and have a wonderful evening."

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! ]

It was hard to imagine that either the regular staff or the soldiers, who had seemed so out of place that morning, had anticipated what the patient populace had decided to do during breakfast. While the grand majority of patients had eventually decided to calm down and either escape to adjacent rooms or stay hidden under the cafeteria tables, there were others who were persistent and stubborn in their need to make some sort of point.

The cafeteria ended up a mess, covered in bits of food, not to mention downed patients who had been suppressed by the unexpected military force. When it seemed like the insanity wasn't going to go away unless extreme measures were taken, that was exactly what happened.

Where exactly the gas came from was a mystery; either it was the vents, or it was one more strange thing about the institute that couldn't and wouldn't be explained. But the tear gas flooded into the room as the staff and the soldiers exited, leaving the patients to suffer with it like they were pests instead of human beings. It was only after everyone had been incapacitated that the staff returned, helping patients to change into fresh clothes or wash themselves off if need be.

It was during this moment that the intercom came on, but Landel's voice was not heard. Where he was -- if he was busy trying to cover up what had happened or was simply throwing a fit somewhere -- was not commented on.

Lydia, the head nurse, simply spoke in her usual clipped tone. "Considering the way all of you have decided to behave this morning, we've had to take some severe measures. Some of you will be taken up to the solitary rooms, while the rest of you can continue on with your day. However, our visitors here may have some tasks for you to carry out, and so I would strongly suggest that you follow their orders. Men will be on the recreational field, with women in the greenhouse. Therapy sessions will also be scheduled if possible, depending on the status of potential patients."

She paused, sighed, and made one last comment. "We all hope that you will know better in the future."

The intercom cut off then, as nurses led the patients around with the soldiers watching, ready to spring into action if need be.

[ Please refer to this post for how to handle the next shift. Also, NEWLY ACCEPTED CHARACTERS are still free to reply to this with their introduction post. Solitary room posts can also be made in response to this post. ]

For once, HK was working very hard to hide a giddy facial expression as he met his nurse at the door. He'd already hidden his scalpels in his clothing. The wonderful, sharp implements of doom would be needed today. “Statement: Despite my reticence towards all processed meat and plant products, I am experiencing intolerable levels of hunger,” he informed his nurse. “I require an especially large meal.”

It was the easiest and best excuse to load his food tray with several of these 'inglish muffin sandwiches', and two glasses of white milk. He then found a table strategically located in the center of the refueling area, and waited. He needed the room as full as possible before the Evil Plan could begin.

[Free, but planning doom upon all.]

"Dude, you are totally bugnuts crazy," Yuffie told the intercom.

She stood by her bed, hopping vaguely as she pulled up her socks. The rest of her clothes, sans shorts and bra, were in a messy, rumpled pile on top of her equally messy, rumpled bedsheets. Next to them sat her sheathed wakizashi and her two knives; her shuriken, too big to fit, had been left to lean against the side of her desk.

"And that's worth saying only 'cuz that's the most sense you've, like, ever made. Can't you go back to being creepy and stereotypical? I'm serious."

The arm warmer went on next; she buckled it quickly as she toed into her (still laced) sneakers. Gloves followed swiftly after, and Yuffie mumbled, "C'mon, geez," as she slipped them on. She'd been too distracted by her notes to get dressed during dinner shift, and now she had to hurry. Sagara could be here any minute.

Finally, finally, Yuffie jammed the woollen turtleneck over her head.

[ from here ]

The darker tiles on the floor looked almost like they were black holes waiting to catch someone in them thanks to the lighting, and it wasn't until Ruby skimmed the floor with her flashlight, still leaning in the doorway, that she realized they were actually red and found herself more willing to walk in. The first few steps were made apprehensively and her eyes flickered to every corner of the room as she swept it with her flashlight.

Some stalls, countertops -- for all intents and purposes, it looked pretty normal. For a minute there she felt ridiculous being so suspicious of the place, but given Landel's level of spook and everything she'd heard, her pride was taking a backseat to self preservation. Wariness was going to keep her alive.

The counters on either side of her were the same dark red that, when not directly lit, looked a lot more like some kind of unending darkness, but she pushed that lingering paranoia away and walked over, crouching down and shining the flashlight on the piping beneath the sink. It looked to be secured pretty well, but she'd done worse property damage, and if Roxas could get it off …

Well, no offense to the kid, but he wasn't exactly demon material.

She straightened back up, bracing one foot on the curve of the pipe where it connected to the wall, then bent her knee and delivered a powerful straight kick down against it. Powerful, but not powerful enough. She felt a sudden rush of pain in her foot where the impact shot directly up through her tennis shoe into the bone of her foot. Pain? Not supposed to happen. Not in a vessel when it was something this insignificant. Moreso, not when she was supposed to easily be able to deliver.

Her strength was hindered. More than she'd expected it to be and it was far more frustrating when she was looking it in the face. Becoming trapped in her vessel happened. Devil's traps, witch's curses, consecrated ground, specific runes, certain parts of Hell … there were a plethora of reasons for that to happen and she could get used to that. But, having her natural abilities rendered mostly impotent … She slammed a frustrated fist on top of the counter, jostling the whole thing pretty effectively and knocking her flashlight onto the ground. It rolled away a little and she sighed, looking down at it for a moment and gathering her patience back up.

After a hesitant pause, she gave the piping another, more enthusiastic kick. The pipe came loose, judging by the noise, and she stepped back, crouched down and retrieved her flashlight to take a look. A part of it was busted away from the wall, but she had to reach forward and give it a good yank to break it away from the rest of the piping. Not something that she would have thought twice about on an average day, but her shoulder protested to the force with which she jerked her arm back to accomplish it.

While it may have cost some of her enthusiasm for her nightly plans, she could at least say she'd achieved what she came in to do. She lifted the pipe some, checking its weight in her hand to ensure that it was going to be easy enough for her to swing around. Satisfied, she headed back for the door into the main hallway for the women's block, trying not to let herself fixate too thoroughly on the dejection of the lessened strength and instead just move towards what was in front of her.

The pipe wasn't exactly a refined, tactical weapon, but it would due until she got to Roxas and hopefully found a way to something better.

[ to here ]

The commotion just after the intercom's jingle displayed the same kind of erratic energy that the Head Doctor had been exuding all day.

"Come on, get those papers out of the way – no, I don't...! Ah! Good evening, everyone, and I hope you all enjoyed the activities we had to–"

Someone whispered something in the background. The Head Doctor sighed and muttered: "Yes, Lydia, I know we don't have many organized activities...

"...But anyway! Next up is dinner with your roommates! Tonight, we'll be having turkey and gravy, which will consist of some moist slices of turkey breast and garlic mashed potatoes, garnished with steamed broccoli, grilled asparagus, and topped with delicious gravy. We'll be serving the dinners with small side salads and our dessert will be pumpkin pie – as per usual, we have alternate meals for alternate dietary needs."

The Head Doctor took a long pause. Lydia mumbled something in the background.

"No, I'm not dawdling–! Er... I'll talk to you shortly, everyone!"

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. Thank you! ]

Well, if it wasn't his favorite time of the week. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder. Of course in this case, distance makes Klavier feel like an abused, neglected animal who was only now being allowed a taste of actual food. These people were such savages. It was still absolutely absurd that they were allowed access to this room so rarely. But the tactic was also brilliant on their part, sad to say. Klavier was always at his quietest and most obedient on Music Room days. The perfect model patient. He would give them no excuse to deprive him of this precious time.

Today was going to be a little different, however. Not only was he given access to music today, but a bout of entertainment as well. Apparently that band that had been setting up tryouts for the last week was ready to get the show on the road and start their auditions. Normally, this was the sort of project he wouldn't hesitate to take part in. But aside from the injury to his left hand and shoulder, there were three critical factors keeping him from doing so:

1. The band was named "Sex Bob-Omb." Klavier may have missed the band scene, but he had no intention of attaching his name to some Tom Jones cover band.
2. There weren't many actual instruments in the Music Room; certainly not enough variety to form the type of band they want. The one who made the poster said something about improvising instruments through whatever means necessary. A noble goal, but again, Klavier was not so desperate yet as to reduce himself to playing with a box of tissues strung up with rubber bands. That was too pathetic an image to ever place himself into.
3. The person who had posted placed up a sample music sheet of one of their songs. Klavier had no idea how many people here could actually read music enough to know what it was they were looking at there, but he had been able to decipher it perfectly. Their music... it was kind of god-awful.

In short, this was basically a disaster waiting to happen. The hints were enough to tell him this was likely going to be something akin to nails on a chalkboard... amplified by five. So honestly, he should be as far away from this room as humanly possible.

But he was not going to let these people ruin his rare access time to the Music Room. No, instead he took one of their old CD players and a carefully selected CD of choice (for the sake of his sanity) and took a seat at one of the tables, turning the chair so as to get an optimal view of the show. Why not? No harm in indulging in a little "entertainment," yes?

[free to anyone who wants to watch this train wreck with him :D ]

With breakfast finished and a new acquaintance made, the Scarecrow's mind turned to his other friends. The disappearance of Depth Charge's friend had brought back memories of how he'd felt when Kaiji went missing: helpless, useless, as though he should have and could have done something more to find him. If only he had his brain, then maybe he could have thought of something!

As much as he didn't like to admit it, it was unlikely his former roommate was still within the Institute's walls at this point, though the Scarecrow wouldn't know for sure unless Kaiji returned to visit him as Dorothy had, encouraging his supposed recovery. There was still the concern that Landel, despite his vile methods, was actually right and he was suffering from the delusion of having been a scarecrow in Oz. After all, that movie had been a pretty elaborate trick. Would he have planted it in town on purpose, knowing the Scarecrow would be taken there the night of the enchanted doors? And how could he guarantee that once he did find it, he'd take it and actually watch it? There was so much guesswork involved- it seemed the Wizard Landel either liked coincidences or he had more power on his side than any of the patients could have guessed.

The Scarecrow stopped by the bulletin board before heading for a seat, considering writing a note to his friends to check on them. He'd heard from Depth Charge, Remy, and Kibitoshin within a day's time, so he figured they were probably fine (as fine as Depth Charge could have been after last night, anyway). He'd seen Mele and Scar the day before. He put a finger to his head, thinking- he'd not heard from Abe or Sangamon in a day or so, but being professionals, they were probably very busy. Perhaps a note would be best for them.

[Kibby]

With sigh that toed the ambiguous no-mans-land between soft and explosive, Yuffie collected a plateful of waffles with all the toppings. She was sure that, if nothing else, it'd making a pretty satisfying splat if—when?—she launched it at somebody's face, and that was all that counted.

"Hanna, isn't that a little much?" Plucky asked, doubtfully.

"Uhhm. No. About, like... a little while ago, I managed five caramel apple pies with ice cream and berries and, y'know, I think there was a gallon of soda involved at some point." It wasn't the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. There really had been five caramel apple pies, but Cloud had ended up wearing two and a half and the third had taken a vacation to Boobsville (Tifa had loved it. Really. Really). The moral of the story (as she'd told Marlene and Denzel later) was that anything was game, just as long as you could run fast enough afterwards.

The nurse nodded slowly. "I… suppose. Well, I'll leave you to it. See that you behave, won't you, dear? You need to set a good example for the new batch of patients."

"My examples are the best examples," Yuffie proclaimed, with the dark-bright grin that still came so easily, no matter how little she felt really felt it. It lingered even when the nurse had flitted off to deal with another charge, but there was an edge to it. What the edge was, Yuffie couldn't say. Didn't want to say, after what'd gone down last night. Nah, she had better things to do; things like sitting down and waiting, just waiting, for Cloud or some other sucker of an easy target to walk through the door.

[HARLEY HARTWELL o/]

[From here]

"Well that got the blood pumping..." Tifa laughed a bit breathlessly as the adrenaline in her system rushed through her veins from head to toe.

She staggered in after Zack once her deed was done. She pressed her hands flat against the door, keeping any stubborn zombies outside. She also needed to find a way to lock the door and barricade it. One thing she was thankful for was the dim lighting that flickered flippantly above her. At least they could see what their sparse options were. "Think a chair would work...?" The tables looked too big.

[From here.]

Now that they had found the right place, Zack had to remember where exactly the bar was. Had Tifa been there before, or has she only heard about it from other people? Either way, the soldier was fairly certain that he knew where to go from here, and that was to the left.

There was just one problem, though: they weren't alone. While the zombies didn't seem to have noticed them yet, they were still shambling around on the main road, heads tilting to the side or hands outstretched as they searched for food.

For them.

"Looks like we might have to make a run for it," he said with a sigh as he rubbed at the back of his neck. "Unless we want to try the materia out now." It was tempting, but that might also classify as suicidal, hence why he wanted Tifa's opinion.

[From here.]

They had reached the end of the first row in a short amount of time. It was the smallest town Claire could remember being to. The Island seemed huge in comparison. Walking from one end of town to the other barely took five minutes, and Claire had to look over her shoulder just to make sure that they hadn't missed a longer stretch of road at the other end.

"This way," she said shortly, turning to the right. There was nothing left on this street but quaint wooden houses, and those were of no use to her. Aside from the odd street lamp and a few lit windows in the stores, none of the lights were on. It was rather strange. The place felt so empty.

Of the few street lamps that seemed to be working, the one they were passing under played the strangest tricks with the shadows. As they walked briskly past the lamp, the dark shapes shrunk back from behind them and grew anew in front of their feet, stretching far ahead of them on the weathered pavement. Claire was paying it no mind until something seemed to jerk. Wriggle. It was difficult to describe, but for a moment it looked like her shadow had gone jittery and moved on its own.

Her footsteps faltered. Was the light bulb going out above them? She cast a quick look behind her, brows furrowed. No, it looked just the same as before. It hadn't even dimmed.

When she looked back, the shadow twitched again.

Claire snatched Andrew by the sleeve. "Did you see that?"