[from here]

The fresh air, though a bit chilly and damp as it seeped through her uniform, was refreshing. Knowing the area to be dangerous, Momo stopped a bit away from the door and scanned the field as her eyesight adjusted to the light cast from the moon. She didn't see any movement, nor did she hear any. Perhaps she'd arrived before the monsters had stirred from their daytime slumber.

That would be fortuitous as Momo would prefer to avoid confrontation. She had adjusted enough for the loss of sight in her left eye, but she could only compensate so much as it had only been a week and she'd yet to get into any serious combat since then.

With a quick glance to the right, checking the field's other door, the shinigami headed toward the outer wall. If she remembered correctly, the canines tended to come from behind the shed toward the back. If she could get to the wall before they showed their snouts...

[from here]

It looked like Junpei was the first to arrive as there was no sign of a hot pink-haired flesh-eating babe. Leaning against the wall by the door that lead outside, he sighed and tilted his head back. What was he doing? Why were his senpai gone when he so very much needed them to tell him what he should really be doing?

This place sucked. Tartarus was easier to handle than this. It made sense in a twisted way that didn't have him eating vampire flesh or hunting with a bunch of Embryon. He really missed home - even that pathetic drunk.

[from here]

So far, so good; Junpei wasn't feeling any compulsion to go someplace he wasn't intending to. It was a relief to know that Evangeline wasn't going to vampire him to her side that night, despite the implications from earlier. Then again... what if where he was heading was where she wanted him to go all along, so it just didn't feel like a vampire compulsion?

Oh man, this whole vampire servant thing sucked. Junpei wasn't even sure if he'd be able to tell when Evangeline decided to call him to hold her hair while she prayed to the porcelain god or something worse - carrying her damn books.

[to here]

Dinner—cake included—sat untouched on the desk, surrounded by her growing collection of colorful origami animals and guarded by her notebook. Her three knives were lined up on the bed in order of size alongside her old outfit, with the wakizashi next to them; the Four Point was propped up carefully on the side of the bed.

Yuffie, hands on her hips, eyed the ensemble critically. It really was gonna be a shame to lose some of this kit, but it was going to a good cause. Her conscience would never allow her to leave her teammates unarmed when she had weapons to spare, no matter what her hoarding instincts had to say about it. She'd just have to suck it up and deal, and make sure they knew just how bad an idea it'd be to lose anything she gave them.

Especially the wakizashi.

She twirled on heel, paced the length of the room and back again in swift little waltz steps. Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. Nervous? Her? The Great Ninja Yuffie? No! No way! It was just—the anticipation. Restless energy and restless thoughts. How, exactly, was she gonna deal with this? It was Aerith, back from the dead, and… and…. And that was good, totally awesome, but Yuffie couldn't banish the feeling of that up close and personal re-enactment she'd been forced to go through. Looking Cloud in the eye had been hard enough.

[from here]

Once out of the female block, Momo hesitated, unsure what she wanted to do. She'd left her room without a thought, her body automatically following the same motions she did every night once she'd secured Laevatein back in its hiding place in her room. She was feeling more comfortable with the broadsword, but there was only so much she could do with it while it was in its current state and she had no one to formally teach her. Celes' tips were certainly appreciated, but Momo was unwilling to ask the general for lessons, feeling as if she'd be imposing. She would just have to adapt her own style.

After a moment of thought, the shinigami headed to the left. She'd only had two options, really. She could have headed to the right and helped with the M-U rescue, but pacing that hallway while waiting for someone to be released from their torture was not something she wanted to do. Instead, she started toward the outside of the Institute.

[to here]

The previous shifts had offered much in the way of her own personal curiosity, but little in understanding the place she was in. Still, Renamon's mind had quieted; the irritation shifted into the back of her mind. Was it simply children that accomplished that? Or the kind of people that maintained their differences, and sated something in her. She sought to understood, and that had increased in her new surroundings. Learning had become some kind of peace. And in this alone, she could maintain her ever-present calm.

Refreshed in a way by this, and looking forward to the night--if the one called Brainiac was what he said, he of all people should be able to help Renamon in this--the Digimon took a seat off to the side in the sun room, content to simply be alone with her thoughts. But thoughts were too often overrun, and she took efforts to move away from the more heavy items. Dairine disappearing. Toph, Toboe. Orihime. And Rika.... Should Renamon be glad she didn't see her this last visitor shift? Or should this be more of a concern?

She closed her eyes, calming her mind. One thing at a time. There were no moves to be had until night came. So she would wait.

[Digimon Tamers, represent!]

For the second time, Rika found herself waking with a start. She blinked at the grey light streaming through the windows, and looked across the room. Anise was still asleep. So. I'm still here. Let me just check...

Rika put on her slippers and walked over to the desk, checking the drawer and breathing a light sigh of relief. Good, the knife was still there. She wasn't sure why it would be there - shouldn't they have confiscated the weapon? Either way, though, as much as she was reluctant to use it, she was glad to have it still there.

Just then, she heard the creak of the open door, and quickly closed the drawer. Her nurse peeked in, whispering, "Rachel? Time for breakfast. You should put on a sweatshirt, it's a bit chilly." Rika nodded, quickly adding the extra layer and following the nurse out into the hall and to the cafeteria.

She was used to a Japanese-style breakfast, so the idea of something sweet - which the nurse was avidly describing, with the waffles and fruit and syrup - was a bit odd. Once she walked in, though, she had to admit it smelled good. She filled her plate with waffles topped with blueberries, some sausage, and eggs, took a glass of orange juice, and took a seat. It seemed she was early, so she took a seat close to one of the windows and waited.

[For Ange.]

The game room made Heath feel more like he was being treated as a child than any other place in the Institute. It might have just been the selection they had to choose from. A deck of cards was a safe choice and would hopefully keep him from attracting much more energetic company. Yet as he sat down and began shuffling them between his hands he was surprised to find that he couldn't remember how to play a single game. At a loss, he blamed it on his current state of mind.

The red-head sat back in his chair and began looking through the deck one card at a time, if only to have something to do with his hands. The kings, queens, and jacks blurred together despite suits as this did nothing to distract him from the pangs of his still somehow empty stomach.

The deck was eventually tossed to the floor in front of him, free for anyone who felt like a game of 52-card pick-up.

Heath swore under his breath and slouched where he sat. This whole ridiculous matter was more than wearing thin. He'd have to get the involvement of a nurse before dinner. There was nothing else for it. Still, more than one came close enough to stop and he did nothing. Something deep within him knew there wasn't anything any of them could do.

[for Argilla]

[from here]

The stairwell was empty, but Heat wasn't too surprised. Despite all those milling about already, he'd still left his room as soon as he was able. That the others hadn't been as fast was still well within the realm of possibility. He didn't like it, but he'd give them time. Seraph apparently wasn't here to set the pace, so someone had to do it.

Still, he was impatient. A lack of any real sustenance over the past day and night already had the demon roaring at the back of his psyche. Shackled as he was, the feeling was unbearable. He stood just a moment with his back against the wall in some small attempt at restraint, but was soon pacing back and forth in what little space was provided.

They all needed to hurry the hell up.

Once again, it was Nurse Lydia who took over the daily announcements just after the jingle came on. She didn't seem to waste any time and launched right in.

"Hello, everyone. Dr. Landel will be taking over for the last announcement of the day, but for now, I will continue in his stead. Presently, our nurses will escort you to your rooms, where dinner will be served. Tonight, the menu consists of herb chicken, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and carrots. Dessert is a brownie."

After one of her conspicuous pauses, she added:

"A double-fudge brownie."

It seemed as if someone had been coaching her from the background. At any rate, she stiffly finished the announcement with: "The Head Doctor will speak with you soon."

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. SOME ROOM ASSIGNMENTS HAVE BEEN CHANGED IN LIEU OF DROPS, so please double-check on your character's assignment here. ]

The day had been slow for L so far, slower than he required: the events of the previous night were traumatic, but they did not outweigh his need for information and a useful way in which to apply whatever he might learn.

When the nurse shepherded him from the cafeteria, through the Sun Room, and over towards the door of the Arts and Crafts Room, he experienced a small internal wince: this was the room where it had happened the night before. Unpleasant, yes, but likely to be irrelevant in terms of my own welfare, except in terms of what I can learn from it, he reminded himself.

He had the impression that he could avoid the room if he wanted to, but there were several convincing reasons to push past his reluctance: his meeting with Lunge was necessary, the opportunity to see the room in more usual circumstances might be valuable, and he did not want the staff to see that he had been affected. He wasn't sure how they were tied to the events of the previous night, but the buzz of information around the Institute suggested some kind of strong connection.

As he stepped into the room, feet feeling imprisoned in the slippers that the staff kept insisting that he wear, he avoided the area where he had collapsed. Instead, he turned to the right and proceeded as far into the room as he could, then left, then took a seat in the back corner.

If the nurses pressed him to be more creative, he would take up painting. However, he expected to express his creativity in other ways.

[For Lunge.]

[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]

Fresh air, devoid of the foul stench of death, was quite welcome, along with the sun's warmth. It help to distract him from last night's events. The courtyard hadn't been his first choice, but he hadn't had much say in the matter when his nurse cruelly snatched him away from Hinamori, just when she started to warm up to him.

He sat down on the grass and laid against a tree overlooking the pond. The view was marred only by the grim memories of last night.

[Reserved for Faize]

Honey's tummy was growling loudly by the time he was finished talking with Tsubaki.  It'd been an eventful morning, but he was glad to see that his friends were safe.  The nurse led him to the line and he filled up his tray with as many sweet-imitations as he could.  Fruit, juice, pancakes, whipped cream, muffins, the works.  But when he got out of line, none of the members were there yet.  Well, that was alright, he could still stake out a table and make sure there were seats enough for everyone. 

Humming softly to himself, Honey set his trap up on a table and pulled himself into a chair before starting in on the syrupy sweet breakfast food.  Usa-chan sat beside him, saving at least one of the chairs, while he kept a careful watch on the door for any more hosts.

[Host Club! :D]

[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.

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.]

One second he was in the hallway, dizzy and sickened and barely able to focus as Youko picked him up (and he'd thought for a moment to warn her to be careful before remembering his shirei couldn't hurt her anyway, even agitated as they were) and then the next...in bed. Back in the sterile hospital room, with only the sharp scents of cleaners and laundry soap from the sheets, but nausea and a lingering pain behind his eyes still reminded him of the close call the night before.

Before he had time to think about it for long, though, the door opened and the nurse arrived with a bundle of unfamiliar clothing; she fussed over him briefly, trying to feel his forehead (from which he automatically grimaced and ducked away) and cooing over him like he was an invalid child. Of course he was a little feverish; it would only have been worse if the blood had touched him as it came so close to doing.

But the woman only bundled him into the clothing she'd brought without paying any attention to his protests, and he was hard-pressed to decide whether or not the shirt she gave him was any better than the bright yellow smiling face. And then he was led out to the front yard, through what he noted didn't look anything like the "holy ground" of the night before, and given a brown paper bag before being herded onto a bus with admonitions to "take it easy" ringing in his ears.

He dropped into the first empty seat he found, leaving the bag sitting next to him unopened as he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. Food was most definitely not interesting at the moment, and he had things to think about anyway.

[waiting for Youko]

[from here]

North or south? That was an easy decision to make. Playing amateur National Geographic anthropologist-cum-documentarian didn't appeal. Not when humans were the only endangered species around here. Besides, he'd never perfected the well-oiled half-British half-asshole (if there was a difference) accent.

S.T. pivoted his body to the right, swung the rolling pin out ahead of him (in case the door was closed -- a black eye from actually running into a door was not something he wanted to have to admit to) and stepped into the next hall.

[to here]