[from here]

Mello turned right and started down the hallway closest to the stairwell he'd used to reach the second floor.  Before him, everything was silent, though the bulletin had told him that past the wall to his left, people were being tortured and used as experiements.

He mentally shrugged as he moved down the corridor, focusing on the white circle of his flashlight's beam and giving those poor souls only the most cursory of thoughts.  As long as it wasn't him. 

At the end of the hallway, he stopped to dig out the blade of the surgical scissors he'd used to modify his radio.  It was dented and slightly bent, but it should be good enough.  He dropped to one knee and slid the thin strip of metal into the doorknob's hole, then turned it as he listened for the weak thump that would indicate the tumblers falling into their assigned positions.

It shouldn't take longer than a minute or two.  The last few years had definitely given him an advantage over his peers.

[to here]

[from dinner post]

... the doctor sounded tired. Shawn wasn't sure if he preferred that voice or the more youthful one in the second announcement but either way, he figured, this guy's still fucking nuts.

Talk about Sci-Fi gone wrong. Gus would've loved this, even if Shawn knew the other wouldn't have been able to stop shaking in his slippers long enough to go into full dweeb mode. Shawn committed both announcements to memory-- just because authenticity sounded verified, it didn't mean he could trust anything that was being said especially when it involved so-called advanced technology, a "shield", and some kind of super hacker. Hackers, honestly. If the act didn't involve Angelina Jolie in any way Shawn just wasn't interested.

He held pushed at the prematurely opened door, looking out into the dark hallway warily. Pulling back in, he cast an almost-cautious grin at Peter. "After you...?"

Like he was going to go out there first. Yeah. Right.

Considering the mood Roy had been in when he had been brought back for dinner, he had been glad to find that his roommate was still in a deep sleep. He would have made for horrible conversation when he could only think about Kimbley's words, the look on his face, and the feel of him.

It wasn't like he hadn't been forced to endure that countless times before, but it had been a while since they'd had a talk like that. It was hard to stop thinking about, even with the prospect of nightshift ahead of him. It also kept him away from his food -- thinking about the possibility of having to burn someone to death (or tear them apart with claws, since that was a viable option now) wasn't very good for the appetite.

The announcement before nightshift came on as normal, and Roy was busy zoning it out until the doors suddenly opened long before they were supposed to. His head snapped up to the intercom, and as a strange recording started to play, he placed his full attention on it.

Things certainly seemed to be going wrong for the Head Doctor tonight, and that was almost enough to get Roy's mind off of Kimbley. He made sure to grab his radio this time, and while he had a few guesses about what was going on, he would rather stick to the original plan.

Granted, he had to make Reno his weapon first, but he might as well find Hughes and let him know about that while he waited for the redhead to show up. Roy stepped out into the hall and moved down to M6.

[from here]

The Bride paused at the top of the stairs and listened. Quiet. It was quiet. If it hadn't been for the knowledge that there were people up here being tortured, she'd have thought she was the first to make it to the second floor. The Bride headed down the hallway, not even bothering to give the hallway where the torture was done more than a brief glance. Those people and their suffering were none of her concern at the moment.

She turned down the second hallway on the left; another step in this night's line dance.

[from here]

"Good evening, patients and staff!" the Head Doctor said just as the intercom's usual jingle ended. Strangely, he seemed even more tense now than he had been throughout the day, though as he continued to speak, he seemed to get back into the usual swing of things. "I hope you all had very productive outdoor activities today and helpful therapy sessions to boot. Now, however, we must all begin to retire, and as always, our nurses will be bringing your dinner to your rooms shortly after your being escorted there. Tonight's meal includes a generous portion of delicious spaghetti with tomato sauce and Parmesan cheese (and meatballs if you choose), along with sides of hot garlic bread and fresh Caesar salad. For dessert, we will be serving slices of moist chocolate cake with a scoop of vanilla ice cream."

The Head Doctor paused, and there was the sound of rustling and then muffled voices, as if the doctor had put his hand over the microphone and was clarifying something with someone--a female voice, probably Lydia. He took his hand off the mic and cleared his throat.

"Yes, that's all for now. I hope you all enjoy dinner, and remember, some of you tonight will be lucky enough to participate in our CM-US Experimental Therapy Trials, so look forward to that after the meal. Goodbye for now!"

The intercom clicked off.

[ Please respond to this post with all dinner shift threads between roommates, putting your character's respective room in the subject line. ]

There was a knot in Sai's stomach as he was led back inside to the cafeteria. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and he tried to ignore it. What was it? Was he actually uncomfortable with his decision? He couldn't afford to be. This alliance with Itachi was crucial, and he'd just have to try and make sure the others saw it that way.

The promised lunch didn't help, as the fish was fried and generally not something he'd eat on a regular basis. The cod by itself would have been far more preferable. Nevertheless, the ninja took the meal as it was offered, figuring he could simply scrape away at the breading once he'd sat down. He passed up the "chips" completely and just added the cooked carrots in their place. It was somewhat more appealing than he'd anticipated once he sat down.

Having done about all he'd intended to do today already, Sai allowed himself to get comfortable and relax. His wounds needed time to heal, even in this place. The more rest he got, the faster that would happen.

Renamon blinked, and suddenly she was laying flat in the bed she had originally woke up in. The timing was impeccable, accenting Orihime's explanation perfectly. She just hoped that she hadn't freaked the girl out with her little disappearing act. She quickly shifted out of bed, and grabbed the journal she had wrote notes in last night, and jotted down another page. No sooner did she finish did her ever-so-friendly nurse come to collect her. Renamon didn't respond to the nurse's excited talk of making friends and breakfast, and simply followed her, journal in hand.

She paused at the Sunroom to leave a message on the Bulletin Board to Toboe. Hopefully the wolf had simply gotten lost, and wasn't truly gone. On the other hand, maybe she should be hoping that the boy had found a way out, and a way home. No use overly worrying about it now.

She continued to the Cafeteria, only pausing to take a plain muffin and water. It seemed she was early. She sat at a table near the wall, scanning over her notes and waiting for her breakfast date.

[Waiting for Kairi and Sora]

[running from here]

John grabbed Wolfram's arm and ran, his flashlight bouncing around in his grip. He needed to get a grip. He couldn't freak out. Freaking out led to rash decisions and he couldn't afford those at the moment. It didn't help that he kept hearing his mother hurrying him on in his head.

Run, John! You don't stop! You always run!

"Yeah, yeah, run... I got it, but where?" he said to no one as he paused only a moment before dragging Wolfram down to the right, aiming for the doors across from him. "Let's hope my good luck holds out and one of those doors is open."

[from here]

John stepped out of the stairwell and into the hallway, moving slowly. It was much more quiet up here and it unnerved him. "Switch your flashlight on," he said to Wolfram. "I get the feeling the extra light can't hurt."

He cast the light around, trying to get a feel for the area. There weren't any signs anywhere, which was so strange. Most hospitals had signs on the doors and electronic locks, letting everyone know what was behind the doors but here it was all a mystery. John didn't like being kept in the dark, literally or figuratively, and he moved forward hoping that the sense of dread was only in his mind.

Nathan was somewhat thankful to hear the heavy sound of the doors unlocking and opening that night. Sure, no one in their right mind wouldn've wanted to wake up to live a nightmare, but in his mind it was at least better than falling into a coma-like state and unable to even open your eyes. He grabbed his flashlight and the radio that so many people seemed to think would help them on their nightly expeditions. A quick glance over in Cid's direction confirmed what Peter had said. Apparently this was his roommate's night sleep in.

Nathan didn't frankly have the time to waste trying to wake the other pilot and was out the door only a minute or so after the Head Doctor dived into his maniacal tyrade for the evening. They'd have to make good time tonight. There was a lot he needed to tell his brother, and apparently they were babysitting some other, poor sap to top it all off. Leaning against the wall with his arms folded in a brooding sort of way that he'd developed over the months, Nathan waited patiently for Peter.

It was rare that Homura's nurse try to persuade him to a scheduled activity, but then, it was rare that Homura didn't go. But the demi-god had plans, and the poor woman had little other choice but to leave in a huff as he once again settled himself near the bulletin board in the Sun Room.

His conversation with Kenren the previous shift had left the demi-god with a lingering sense of anxiety. Perhaps it was something only those from his own world could do, but none the less, he was all the more ready for night to begin now. Goals and memories, the truth of his past and the possibility of the future: all thoughts lingering on the forefront of his mind, more than enough motivation to move forward.

Impatience was something of a rush for an immortal, he'd discovered. Homura liked the feeling, the excitement even before he had arrived in this prison. And now while he waited, he savored it again, a yearning that shone so much brighter than the boredom of Heaven.

[Waiting for History Club Q&A time.]

Sanosuke hadn't quite been ready to part ways from Kenshin, but his nurse was insistent, and she was offering food. That second thing was what really got Sano off the couch and headed to the cafeteria. And at the very least, the thing about Okita had been settled, which meant the fighter could focus on his meal.

That may or may not have been a good thing, though.

What the hell was it with these people and their obsession with flat folding things to eat with? Sanosuke had thought that western countries could at least figure out chopsticks at some point. Simple, easy, uncomplicated, glorious chopsticks. But no, instead it was all weird bread things that randomly exploded all over Sanosuke without it being his fault whatsoever. And orange rice, which was just impossible to forgive, but thankfully had yet to reappear.

And as if that hadn't been bad enough, now the weird flat bread things weren't even round anymore. No, Sanosuke was left with some odd triangle shape, peppers that smelled a lot hotter than the kinds he was used to, and this sort of dust that Pinky called cheese, and promised would be good if Sanosuke just tried it.

Which Sano had heard before, plenty of times. Oh yes, he could count the number pretty easily, when Jo-chan tried her hand at some new recipe, some old recipe, or some recipe so simple that even Sanosuke could make it in his sleep, all of which she promised would be good this time, and none of which actually were.

Never stopped Sanosuke from eating them though. Free food was free food.

And dust or no, he'd eat this stuff too. The man had already decided to by the time he'd gotten to his seat. Between the smell and the rumbling in his stomach, Sano didn't figure he had much choice. He would just have to take his time, figure out the best way to go about eating it without getting the stuff all over his face again.

Simple. Had to be.

[Waiting for Zuko?]

After the couple glasses of water Leon managed to gulp down during breakfast, the mage felt immensely better. He was still a bit tired, but that was nothing a little lounging on one of the sofas wouldn't cure. Stretching his arms above his head, he couldn't help but wish he'd had the chance to grab one of his new doctor's coats before leaving his room that morning. Maybe they would have let him get away with wearing it. Maybe.

He grabbed an empty sofa, pulling out the journal he tried to keep on him at all times. It was nearly complete now. Just a couple more pages to go. It might not improve his spellcasting that much, but any improvement was better than none. It was getting to where it might be too dangerous for him to use spells at all, if it left him so worn out without even finishing a monster off.

Sylar's gears were still turning as the nurse and a burly orderly escorted him down long halls and through a strange, sunlit room. He'd been forced to drop his pen when the orderly had seen it, and since then, he'd realized that this place had better security than he'd originally anticipated, as well as a large population of patients. It looked like he'd have to bide his time for now, pretending to be this 'Zachary Blaine' and trying to figure out how the hell he'd gotten here.

His mind went over and over the events in Mohinder's lab, tracing every second that led up to his unconsciousness. According to the computer logs and the decked-out loft, Mohinder was working for the Company now, so had that woman with the electricity been an operative? Was this all a Company front? Even so, it didn't make sense for them to drop him off somewhere without any close supervision. They knew how dangerous he was. How special he was.

But right now, his abilities had been nullified and he was left only with the option of playing along. It was a very good thing that it was something he excelled at, even with his sudden loss of the cure clouding his thoughts and telling him to do something drastic.

Still, it was fun to take ahold of strings and let someone think they were pulling him when in fact he was the puppetmaster. Who knew? Maybe he could find a new toy now that his last one had worn out.

Sylar took his syrup-covered waffle to a table and tried to keep track of both the security and the people flooding in. Soon, he'd find an opening, a weak link he could exploit. It was only a matter of time.

[From here]

Climbing up the wall was about as dignified as he'd expected, although it could still have been worse. The garden trowel as a climbing tool actually did help a little, and while he would regret the entire decision to go on this insane mission by morning, for now his muscles weren't aching too badly as he made his way to the top. He did have to reach out for Rangiku to help him over the edge.

Well, that was the biggest predictable barrier. Now to wait and see what, if anything, popped out in the rooms to come. At least Rangiku had a sword, compared to the improvised weapons Mark and Leon were carrying.

[from here]

Once, twice, thrice... with a heavy grunt, Zoro managed to break through the locks. The room was dark but his flashlight was still on and he calmly surveyed the different items in the shed.

Casually perusing through the sports equipment, Zoro took his time in the dark. He observed a helmet curiously, tossing it up and down with one hand as if it were a ball. The wood and aluminum bats in the corner drew his attention and, with the helmet tucked under his arm, Zoro pulled one from the pile.

Flashlight clenched between his teeth, Zoro gave the bat an experimental swing. It was aluminum and seemed to work well if not for his strength overcompensating the momentum of the relatively light object. He drew out two more, tucking all three into the right side of his haramaki. It certainly didn't balance out and he hated having to resort to baseball bats for his defense, but the pirate internally conceded that nothing could be done about it for now. Nami herself had taken to using Usopp's clothing rod for a weapon.

After a final glance around the room revealed nothing more useful than what he already had, Zoro turned and left, still carrying the helmet with him. Maybe he'll give it to the cook. Lugging it around would be worth the laugh.

[going back here]

[from here]

Last night he'd only been intent on getting to Fai's room. Tonight was no different, but since he wasn't moving quickly to make up for time, he was able to take a moment when he stepped out into the open air and see just what the place was. An outdoor area, grassy, and completely dark save for what little light the nighttime sky provided. This was what Kurogane was more used to, something a bit more natural and closer to his own world, not like the building he was about to head back into.

He could not see anything through the darkness, or sense something if it were there, but in any event, he did not want to stick around. Taking another left he stayed against the wall, going quickly but cautiously towards the next door. All the while he kept his eyes glued to the open field for any unwelcome hindrances.

[slipping off to here]

The intercom's jingle came on with its usual overly-cheery quality, echoing through the halls and doctors' offices.

"I trust, as always, that you all enjoyed the last shift and that all the staff-patient interaction went smoothly. Of course, we're nearing the end of another day and so we must begin to bring things to a close. Nurses and orderlies, please escort all the patients to their respective rooms and make sure everyone gets their dinner--which is, by the way, chicken teriyaki and assorted tempura, along with rice and miso soup--before they retire for the night. A vegetarian substitute is of course available, and we have our usual assortment of drinks; we also have a special of hot green tea to go along with the meal.

"Thank you, everyone, for an exceedingly pleasant day, and our therapy sessions will continue tomorrow as scheduled. Enjoy your dinner, and I will be on again before bedtime to say goodnight."

The announcement ended.

[ As always, individual dinner threads go in response to this post, and it helps to put your character's room number in the subject line. Thanks! ]

[Waiting for Daemon and Renji.]

After spending the last shift in discussion in the library, Rukia had a lot on her mind. Speaking with Captain Harkness had been somewhat informative, but only increased her worry. How easily were they all being controlled by Landel? And by what means? Too many questions.

Since she was still confined to a wheelchair, Rukia asked a nurse to get her some fruit, salad, and a big bowl of rice. She could have easily done it herself, but wanted to find a spot in one of the corners near the door to wait for Renji. She hadn't spoken to him for long the previous day, and had been very upset at the time. Maybe they could just have a nice lunch together.

Rukia thanked the nurse who brought her food and began to eat, looking up at the door every so often.

[Scoobies + Bella's epic field day: readystartgo]

Taking his pick between sun and no sun wasn't that hard of a choice, really. Angel ended up in the Sun Room on a couch near the back, facing the entrance to keep an eye on anyone coming in. And by the window. The window and its resulting sunlight was important.

A part of him felt as if it wasn't quite right to actually like something about this place, but then again, after everything, didn't he kind of deserve to find at least a small source of enjoyment? For a little while, at least? While he sorted everything out after his conversation at breakfast. It was a theory he'd have to ask Willow about when he found her.

He flipped open his journal, looking idly at the half-finished sketch. Sometimes he became worried he'd wake up one day and forget the faces he knew. Drawing was more than just a hobby for him, in that way.