[From here]

It was surprising to see that no one else had left yet. All the doors were closed as she walked down her block and into the hallway on her left, though she could clearly hear a few voices here and there, probably talking with their fellow roommate. While she would never admit it openly, being the only one in the hallway was rather creepy. The comfort of knowing people were around, regardless if that gap was a few feet or a few hallways away, was still comforting. Well, there was no point in whining over it. Fear of the dark was for children and ignorant adults, and she was neither.

With a new, determined stride, the eva pilot quickly ate up the corridor to the next door; her only company was the echoing slap of her rubber soles against the linoleum.

[To here]

The intercom jingle was slightly different for this shift, almost as if it had gone up in quality. The Head Doctor gave a sigh of relief, his own voice clear as a bell despite the usual electronic buzz.

"Hello, everyone – from our new and improved intercom system! We've had electronics rehauling our circuitry, and you can hear the result quite nicely! A whole bunch of improvement! Right, anyway...

"As I'm sure you've noticed, we have a whole new bunch of patients that have joined us recently, and because of the changes in our roster, we've updated our roommate assignments, so some of you might be enjoying the company of someone entirely new tonight! Please be polite and friendly to anyone you might encounter!

"Which brings us to... dinner! Tonight, we'll be having a delicious 'bento box' meal consisting of fish and vegetable tempura along with chicken teriyaki, a bowl of steamed rice, miso soup, salad, and... green tea! Decaffeinated, of course. We can't have you bouncing from wall to wall when there's sleep to be had! Our usual assorted drinks and alternative meals are also available. Oh, and... dessert! Green tea ice cream, with a topping of red bean paste.

"I think that's all for now! I'll speak to you once more before bed time."

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. Please refer to the updated room assignments before posting. Thank you! ]

Lunch had taken his mind from his worries, if only for a few minutes. But after the intercom sounded and the nurses began leading patients onto the next activity, one look at the bulletin board brought everything back in full force. No replies from Ashton, Dias or Dad. By now Claude felt like he was practically counting down until the end of the day, when he was going to have to finally grapple with the real possibility that most of his friends from before Landel's, as well as his own father, had fallen victim to the institute.

And now he was going to have to deal with his mother being here on top of that. It didn't seem like a coincidence that she'd show up right when his father's whereabouts were so up in the air. But what did it mean? Why couldn't Landel leave his family out of this?

Normally, the announcement about new video games would have made him perk up, but his eyebrows only knit together with concern as his nurse led him into the game room. That didn't seem to stop her from trying to get him to unwind, though.

"Oh, come now, Thomas, you've worn that expression for most of the day!" she told him with a frown. "Why don't you have a bit of fun now that your eyes are all better? I'm sure you could use it."

The last thing he wanted was to be reminded of his "sleep studies", he darkly thought to himself. But before he could protest, his nurse had sat him down in front of one of the television screens. There was an old gaming console, one Claude had never seen before, and he glanced at her with a confused expression. "Go on," she encouraged as she placed one of the controllers in his hands. "I know how much you enjoy these kinds of things. Someone will come play with you soon, too, I'm sure. Doesn't that sound nice?"

He didn't have time to answer her, because she'd soon bustled off to tend to some of the other patients. Claude watched her leave with a sigh. He realized the daytime staff meant well, which made knowing what they turned into at night even worse to think about. But now he was just being negative for the sake of it, wasn't he?

Taking in a small breath, he reached over to the console and turned it on. As long as he was waiting for some kind of answer from the bulletin, there probably wasn't much he could do except pass the time. Claude watched the title screen appear on the television, his expression growing more curious in spite of himself. Super Mario Bros....

[For Prussia!]

[from here]

It was a race. A fight against patience and a Song's call. Still, the sedation's dredges churned through him. Two close at hand had a potent effect--much like the night that they were left in that town, and the morning after. Rubedo had came then. Came for them like something out of place, and wasn't that so ironic afterwards--when Albedo knew what he knew now? How many times would a twin appear to abandon him to harshly? How many times would Rubedo make promises only to break them--tear them to pieces like he did Albedo--in the perfectly precise way of those who knew how to break you down because they knew you so perfectly.

Was that how Rubedo had killed him? Or had Albedo forced him to it? His twin wouldn't say before, and asking now was too much like dead blood rotting in veins--he no longer cared, no longer needed to know how easily it was for his twin to rip him asunder. How joyous Rubedo must have been. If that night was any hint, his twin hated him with a passion to rival man's hatred toward god. And wasn't it the same. This. In ways it was the same. An existence meted out, for what it's worth, and then you were simply trapped in it. Trapped in it and stuck stagnant where you were, bound by that other, unless you forced your hatred forward to strike down the other.

To kill god? It seemed too quaint to entertain.

Be it that he woke as the last shift was ending, Albedo had been escorted to the cafeteria early. He took what was offered without a word, sat in the back without a sound, and sipped at the water put in front of him politely; a hand curled around the cup lightly, fingers loose. Eyes burned into the entrance--for Nigredo or Rubedo, either would suffice. The doubt that his twin would come to him was faulty--to ignore them for a week and then vanish as if they were nothing spoke of only distain, whatever Nigredo chose to believe. The eldest of them hated them both. This was truth. The only truth that Rubedo had shown Albedo, in thought, word, action, and deed, in the two weeks that they had shared here.

So Rubedo was to kill him. Well. Never say Albedo accepted his destiny. Yes, he would die by his twin's hand. But first he would rip Rubedo's throat out, claw out his eyes and press them into his beloved's mouth--see the lies you spew--lift his tenderly beating heart for all to see and then crush it.

This, Rubedo, is what you've done to me.

[...for the twin.]

Scar possibly couldn't have been more thrilled at the prospect of being escorted to the library. He had visited this particular room plenty of times to know that it was entirely useless and uninteresting - like most daytime activities, for that matter. Still, the nurse seemed rather convinced he'd like one of those silly books filled with papers and papers of those silly symbols he could suddenly understand for reasons that still puzzled him. These symbols didn't quite tell him anything interesting either; if he'd wanted a silly story he'd listen to that senile baboon back home. Instead, he felt like he was particularly mocked with this activity. He had been blinded last night, only to be dragged over to something that required his eyesight as soon as it had returned.

Not caring whether he was taking the situation way too personal, the former lion opted for glaring to the spine of a book - with words reading 'Lolita' (whatever that may have meant) along with a name he didn't care the slightest bit about - as if everything had been its fault. The truth was that Scar was this close to snapping, and though breakfast had been a welcome distraction it hardly did anything to defuse his frustration and anger.

Especially because he had no idea when something like that would happen again. Or what else they had been doing to his head...

[For Naraku!]

How one's body could maintain a waking schedule when sleep came unnaturally and in a room without windows, must surely be a mystery. Yet, as if working on cue, Natalia stirred well before her nurse arrived. That was normal. Less so, the weight that sought to press her eyelids closed again, the heaviness of her limbs that made lifting her hands to her face an effort. She put her wrist to her forehead with a frown, then attempted a jolt of energy – to swiftly dig her hands into the mattress and shove herself into a seated position, and from there, to her feet.

Not to overexert herself once again, but to refuse that it could be possible after sleeping. Happily, though all still felt leaden, her head did not swim. Encouraged, Natalia put on her slippers, rearranged the bedding, and waited. There came the announcement (reminding her, suddenly, of what she had last heard, and the guilt that had twisted in her gut, Jill--), and her face wrinkled with disgust at the hacking sound. Therapy and breakfast. Food would surely help.

Natalia did not wait long before her nurse opened the door, and after exchanging cursory “Good Morning”s (with rather more enthusiasm on the other woman's part), they began the walk to the Cafeteria. With, of course, the essential rest room stop, where water was splashed and scrubbed over her face, and her hair toyed with to no great satisfaction. At least the shower had renewed its body.

Separating in the Cafeteria, Natalia took her place in line and loaded her plate: eggs, fruit salad, fried “tater tots” (potatoes?), and curious meat wrapped in cooked dough. Some of everything, with juice and water. She thanked her servers, collected utensils and napkins, and found a seat at an empty table. It was early yet.

Sparing a brief look around to be sure no one she recognized had arrived – though she remained eager to greet every patient, at the moment she chose to focus on the possible strength gained from the meal – Natalia began to cut up the items and eat with a refined gusto. Entirely possible!

[Claude!]

[From here.]

The brown hues of Dr. Venkman's office looked black in the dim light from Scar's flashlight, making the room look far darker than the hallway and a hundred times less inviting than it had seemed in the daytime. The light crossing the desk brought the trinkets strewn about it to life as large shadows on the wall. The Scarecrow swallowed that lump forming in his throat, mustering his courage as he tip-toed into the room. He'd half-expected Dr. Venkman to be there for some reason, sitting in his chair, his expression flat no matter what was said to him, as was expected of someone who probably knew a great deal and was bored with simple matters of the body and mind. After a moment with no sound, no indication he was in the room, the former strawman crossed the threshold.

Luckily, the Scarecrow remembered the layout of the room from his visit only days before. Finding the chair near the desk, he pulled it toward the bookshelf along the wall. Though he couldn't read the framed papers hanging above the shelf just yet, he knew the general spot where the one he'd eyed was. If he could just find it and get his hands on it, maybe everything would fall into place.

First things first- he needed the light. "Over here, Scar!" he said in a whisper, motioning for the former lion to illuminate the wall.

[From here.]

"Ever since I was brought here, I've not been able to find my brains," the Scarecrow explained, counting the doors as they passed them. "The Wizard Landel took them, no doubt. I've got to get them back, but that requires an awful lot of thinking. Where would he keep them? And why would he take them? I can't figure out how to get back my brains if I've not got brains in the first place!"

He stopped at the third door on the left, interrupting his story for now. "This is it!" he said excitedly, giving the knob a try. The door didn't budge. "Locked- what luck! How are we supposed to get in? I don't think we'll find a key anywhere around here."

As soon as he'd asked the question, an idea struck him as he eyed the powerless flashlight in his hand. He didn't have the Tin Man's axe, but surely they could get the door open. They'd come all that way- they couldn't just give up now. "I'm going to see if I can maybe break the lock. You keep watch."

Dammit. He was hungry again.

Not that he ever stopped being hungry, but it could be ignored for a while after he'd had a chance to devour something. Though Heat had managed to get that meal the night before, the animal hadn't been all that large. The Institute seemed capable of curbing his hunger to some degree (he didn't think he could have gone for three or four days without proper food in the Junkyard without going mad) but it was still there, forever gnawing at him.

Since he actually had his mind to himself that night, he might as well take some time to see if he couldn't find bigger prey. He really hated thinking in those terms, but there was no way around the fact that Landel had the ability to make him think the way he wanted whenever he pleased. It was infuriating.

He left his radio. It hadn't done him any good before and he needed both hands for his weapons anyway. The man that spoke on it had only empty words for them as far as he was concerned. The stuffed doll, however, he decided to bring along - just in case he ran into, well, a certain someone.

[to here]

[from here]

In contrast to the main hallway in the block behind her, this section of hallway seemed to be completely quiet. Creepily so, and dark with the sort of darkness that scared children (and, okay, maybe some teenagers who were completely mature and rational otherwise, which group definitely didn't include her) and made them jump from the center of the floor to the bed rather than step too close to the thick shadows underneath it. Minako paused a moment to turn in a complete circle, shining her light around the hallway to make certain there wasn't anything lurking... at least, not within the range of her flashlight's beam.

...yeah, okay, thinking about it too much was just going to freak her out, wasn't it. Minako sniffed and flipped her hair back over her shoulder, looking the picture of absolute indifference just in case anything watching might care if she was worried or something, then flounced off down the hallway without a sideways nervous glance. She did, of course, remain entirely alert and listening for sounds of movement, but that was kind of habit by now.

[to here]

[from here and waiting for the opposite one.~]

The hall was as empty as she had seen it. Silence glistened as severe as any palpable source. Voices echoed in the distance, but here there was nothing. No one. No sounds, but the dull creaks of a settling building and shifting ghosts. Last night gave rise to a new awareness. She did not take the emptiness at face value, did not trust the lack of others for what it was. The one on the board had offered the possibility of a monster, but Rei knew the feel of another body against her.

No, her assailant had been human. This remained fact. Over the edge of her plug suit, the bandage felt heavy. Weighted. A reminder to be productive if nothing else. She needed no other reason to devalue her own worth.

[down to here]

[From here]

Now where had Knives said her room was? Scott reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the crumpled napkin she had written the number on at breakfast. F30. Okay. Assuming the girls' block worked the same way the guys' one did and wasn't some alternate dimensional maze that only people with boobs (twitch) would understand, Scott was pretty sure he could find the right room. 

[To here]

"Well, that's it for today's activities and hygiene!" The Head Doctor said with a jovial tone just after the sound system's jingle. He seemed excited and maybe even giddy. "Our nurses will now be escorting everyone back to their rooms, and some of you might find that you have brand new roommates to share your dinner with! That's right: we've gotten a whole new batch of patients, and I hope you all are as well behaved with them as you have – ...well, as most of you have been with our staff. Because of this good behavior, I'd like to remind everyone that they may stop at the Arts & Crafts room to bring their origami figures back to their room and decorate as much as they like!

"In any case, our dinner tonight will be herb chicken – breast and wing or leg and thigh, whichever you prefer – served with hot – well, not too hot – vegetable soup, caesar salad, and lightly fried rose potatoes. Our usual drinks are available, as well as alternatives for special diets, and dessert will be a delicious caramel apple.

"I believe that's all for now. Goodbye, 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. 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! ]

There were very few activity shifts, Cloud was sure, that could possibly make him feel more like he was being treated like a child. He took a seat at one of the tables and blankly examined the materials set out before him. A pair of the dullest scissors he'd ever seen were labeled 'ages 3 and up'. It was good to know where the patients stood in this.

He wasn't much of an artist, and he ignored most of the paints and other drawing utensils in favor of a few sheets of colored paper and instructions on how to make origami. That sounded vaguely familiar. Didn't Yuffie have throwing weapons made out of paper at some point? It was something to do anyway, and thus Cloud began the process of crafting what ended up being very elaborate paper wads.

Sadly, his attempts to keep from dwelling on the subject of his missing friend failed when he realized this was something Aerith probably would have enjoyed greatly. Tonight, he and Yuffie would go out and try to accomplish... something. It was depressing to think there really might not be anything they could do, that they might all end up the same as the flower girl eventually.

[for a hopefully more optimistic materia thief]

Edward was glad to wake up to a period of respite. While he had been conscious during breakfast, he'd requested to remain in his room for extra "sleep", which had consisted waiting until the room was vacated to ingest the vial of Venom's blood. The vampire had lost his chance last night, but that might have been for the better; this way he wasn't in a rush to examine the flavor, as somewhat repulsive as that sounded. Even though he was primarily concerned with getting a meal instead of trying to divine what chemicals could be in the patient body as a whole - if any were at all - he was taking his job seriously, as he knew the risks Venom was already taking with him

He didn't like debts, after all. He was still trying to make up for his first transgression against the assassin.

The blood was familiar to him, but he could find no difference in it from the first time he had drank from Venom. Though his sense of taste was probably lacking compared to what it had once been, Edward couldn't sense any chemical that shouldn't have been a part of it. It was just... blood.

After the vial was emptied, he'd been sure to shove it back into the pillowcase stashed in the closet, as long as shoving the shotgun under his mattress. He was actually surprised the weapon was seemingly so easy to hide; unless the nurses never entered the rooms to search through them, there was no way it should still be here. In a way, he was beginning to think of the rooms as a safe haven.

Though that thought couldn't be necessarily true. After all, when he awoke, Bella's blood wasn't staining his fingertips, and the bandages on his face had been removed as the cuts slowly healed themselves. Someone was changing them, and if he assumed he hadn't gained the ability to sleepwalk as well as sleep, well...

Lunch had already passed for the vampire if Venom's blood was anything to show for it, so he took his usual route through the line, promptly pushing the tray of whatever-the-hell away from him as soon as he sat down. This time he'd brought his journal with him, and though his memory was perfection itself he wanted physical evidence of what he had found in the institute after all. Mostly he was making a note for Bella - a picture of the blond man, the not-Zato, and sketches showing the way its form had changed subtly to reveal the nature of the beast. Assuming it was a beast, of course.

[For his killer bff.]

Bah. So much for yet another suggestion of von Karma's. Such priorities this Institute had. They would implement a foolish suggestion to introduce origami lessons and to offer sewing supplies to select patients, yet refused to allow them to cleanse themselves more often than twice a week -- and, of course, without any additional privacy? How many more of his reasonable suggestions would the Head Lunatic make a point of ignoring?

von Karma scoffed, shaking his head as he entered the shower facility. Fortunately, it appeared that he was the first one in here. As soon as the announcement over the intercom had blared out signaling the shift change, von Karma had been quick to excuse himself from his conversation with Naraku to promptly head for the showers. It had been bad enough last time that there were already three men in the showers by the time he arrived. This time, he would make certain that he would be the first one there.

Without wasting a single second, he disrobed, meticulously washed off the grime from the past several days, dried himself, then got dressed. All within a perfect three minutes, zero seconds, before anyone else had a chance to enter. He would have preferred a much longer time to devote to hygiene, but he didn't want to risk any needless immodesty in front of anyone.

Now finished, he exited the restroom and entered the Sun Room.

[To here]

Yuffie Kisaragi, indomitable bouncing ball of sunshine and unfathomable ebullience, was tired. It'd been a long night full of gibberish and getting nowhere fast.

"Can't I—"

Plucky, who had been busily loading a plate full of French toast and bacon, tittered. "I'm afraid not, Hanna, darling. A chat over a nice, hearty breakfast would do you a world of good, don't you think?"

"Aaaaactually—"

"Come on, let's find you a seat. Plenty to choose from this morning!"

For a long moment, Yuffie seriously considered doing something—anything—to act out. Punch her nurse, rub jam in an orderly's face, climb a wall and hang off the ceiling, jump on a table and parody Loveless… A ruckus like that would definitely jolt her back into gear, right? Sedation aside. And it'd turn Plucky's good day right on its head, which was always a bonus worth shooting for.

But, by the time she'd reached a decision—and it was an epic decision, a really awesome one; everybody'd appreciate the genius, she was sure—she was already alone. Her breakfast tray had been set down neatly by the nurse, who had left with an infuriatingly winsome smile.

"Wow," Yuffie muttered. Shaking her head, she picked a chair at random and threw herself into it. She kicked back, one arm slung across her eyes, to wait. For what, she wasn't totally sure. Some moron to decide that she looked like good company? That was how it usually went.

[From here.]

It was cold and rainy out on the soccer field, but Remy didn't mind; the water on his face and the sharp chill caused the wave of mild dizziness and confusion that hit him to vanish as if it had never been there. Weird. Maybe he was hungry again already?

Getting out here meant that they were that much closer to the kitchen. He bounced through the door, then paused, looking from side to side across the expanse of green grass. Everything looked clear, so he moved to the right, to stand near the wall.

"Okay, guys... we just have to get up over this wall and into the courtyard. Honey says it's easy to get into the kitchen from there. We'll go in the same way we came out the other day."

[From here]

"...What?"

The door slammed shut behind them and locked with a rather distinctive click. The Doctor glanced back at the door—which was very different on this side than it had been on that side—but it wasn't the slam or the door that ended up grabbing the Doctor's attention. There was a loud rumbling that did not, he was quite positive, have anything to do with the thunder that they would have heard more clearly outside. Nor was it a sound that would have come from any construction work, had he and Dean stumbled across it. No, this was different.

"What?"

Following that hall, they should have exited the building into the field. It should led have outside, should have been raining. But in here—inside here—well... that definitely wasn't rain.

Not rainwater, at least. It rather appeared to be raining boulders in the room.

"What."

[From here]

622 risked a glance over the railing as they passed the Sun Room down below. Nothing there yet. Not even something guarding the area. "Hmm." That was odd. There was always a guard stationed there. Maybe he just couldn't see it, but shouldn't people be trying to head through there by now? There would be evidence if they had.