Here he was, stuck in his office on a Friday. That was to be expected when he had been forced to skip a day, of course, and he honestly didn't care that much. Wilson had never been much of a golfer, and that was what most doctors did on their days off. Besides, only having to work three days out of the week was all in all rather luxurious. He didn't have anything to complain about.

He only had three patients lined up for the day. Two he had seen before - there was Mr. Kasady, who thought he was a famous serial killer (he was going to be fun to deal with again) and then Ms. Hawkeye, whose session had been much more pleasant in comparison.

As for Mr. Momochi -- well, he wasn't going to make any assumptions about him. It was difficult to predict what patients were going to be like, and he couldn't glean very much from their files, since those tended to contradict their actual behavior.

What happened, happened. He wasn't going to dwell on it. Instead, Wilson munched on a granola bar and waited for his first patient.

[From Here]

He’d walked past the bathroom Usopp had introduced him to on the first night, before heading directly towards the last hallway in this particular block. It was rather fortunate that he was placed so close to his ally’s location, and he found it more of just a matter of playing a waiting game as he silently marched down the hallway.

Passing by the other rooms without too much notice, Yuber’s movements came to a stop just after halfway down the corridor as he came across M33. It took a little rearranging, but the knight managed to hold the two blades and the torch in one hand, before he neatly folded his arms across his chest. He didn’t bother with his usual tactic of simply entering into the room, but instead found himself comfortably leaning with his back up against the wall while he waited for Usopp to emerge.

The knight was only hoping that he wouldn’t be kept waiting for too long.

_{[from here]}

Aidou paused for the second time that night, listening half-heartedly to the radio announcement. The volume was painfully low, so that it didn't attract any unwanted attention. None of it interested him, even as the riddles came easily enough. None of it was useful to him. So far nothing the monkey on the radio had offered had caught his eye, and he doubted that would change.

Stepping into the stairwell, he glanced to the floor. He was willing to bet the other three stairwells on this floor were the same - no stairs leading to the basement, and no stairs leading past the second floor.

So where were the access points? It was a good question.

[From here.]

It was around that time when Jade's pace slowed considerably, almost to that of a snail's. Even though it involved a woman of some sort, he was certain that he'd have more than enough time to dwell between the halls while still making it back before his Majesty reached his own destination. He walked the halls with more ease than he held moments before, swinging his fontech back and forth as he wandered along.

The rail caught his attention almost instantly, and Jade found himself looking over the edge in practically no time. Even at this height he was able to make out the shapes of chairs and couches that lined the Sun Room's floor. This area seemed to awaken some nostalgia inside him, reminding him of the very bridge that overlooked the first floor of the Cathedral back in Daath. If he remembered correctly, it was where Luke came to him after seeking whatever moral support he could squeeze out of his allies. Life was more hectic back then, and they were facing dilemmas that no person could keep to their own.

Jade chuckled at those memories, letting himself relax in the darkness.

[To here.]

The intercom clicked on with its usual jingle, the Head Doctor clearing his throat before he made his last shift-changing announcement of the day.

"Well, now that everyone is clean and having fun, I suppose it's time for everyone to be escorted back to their rooms for dinner! Yes, yes, I know the game room can be entertaining and doctor sessions can be fulfilling, but we only have so much time in the day, don't we?

"Ah, and speaking of dinner, tonight, we'll be having an old favorite--seasoned steak, a baked potato, and peas! Yum, yum. You also get a choice of vegetable soup or caesar salad--just tell your nurse which you'd prefer--and may also choose from our usual variety of drinks."

He made his usual pause, perhaps contemplating what the night would have in store once the sun fully set. Now, however, wasn't the time to reveal such musings, and so he ended on his usual cheery note:

"That's about all for now! I hope you all enjoy your suppers."

And again the intercom turned off.

Gluttony didn't want to leave his Lust, not after he'd just found her!  But the mean tasty nurses said he had to.  "You can't join her in the women's showers" was a bad excuse.  He didn't like the mean tasty nurses.  Maybe Lust would let him eat them later.  Still, he knew he would see his Lust again, and that was good.  He liked Lust.  She was good and beautiful and smart and kind.  Why did they have to take him away from his Lust?

Still, he would see her again.  And she would tell him it was okay to eat the tasty nurses, and that would be good.  His new friend liked eating people, too.  That made him happy to find a friend who shared a love for eating people.  Today was a very good day.

As he entered the showers, he stood under a shower head and opened his mouth wide to drink up the water.  It wasn't as good as eating people, or eating waffles that didn't scream when he bit into them so weren't nearly as good as eating people, but it was still swallowing something, and that made him feel better.

Sai awoke rather groggily, which wasn't a good sign for a ninja. It meant he was probably ill. He'd need to get checked up with a medic-nin before he did very much more that day. Eyes blinked open slowly to stare at the ceiling and then narrowed in confusion. Not his ceiling. Was he already at the hospital?

"Mr. Pastello... wake up, hon."

Turning his head to the side revealed a vaguely familiar woman in a white uniform. A nurse? ...Oh yes. His nurse. Landels. He sat up at her direction, feeling mildly dizzy as he did so, and glanced down at his arms as he folded them in his lap. They were covered in clean bandages, no longer bleeding. The dizziness told him he was still suffering a bit from the blood loss, however.

When had he passed out? The last few events of the night hadn't been very clear. He didn't know what had happened to the two pirates and, looking around, the mess of blood they had left seemed to have been completely cleaned up. It was amazing, really. He smiled at his nurse, too weary to do much else but let her lead him to breakfast at the moment.

She helped him to his feet, where the light-headedness was even more apparent. It didn't seem to be anything he couldn't put up with, though. The nurse seemed to know a bit about what he suffered from, but made no mention of it aside from telling him to avoid lifting heavy objects and to drink lots of fluids as they made their way to the cafeteria. The subject of blood-sucking leeches never arose, and he figured if it had she'd surely feign ignorance.

It wasn't until they got there that he realized just how absolutely starving he was. He'd had what, corn for dinner? The smells were simply enticing, even though he had no idea what waffles were supposed to be. He was sure anything edible at this point would be fine, and made his way out of his nurse's grip and to the line with more speed then he'd probably ever gone after food at.

"Dolyeton"? What in the name of Fire and Rain was that? (Or where in the name of Fire and Rain was that, but Keman didn't really want to deal with technicalities at the moment.)

Steeling his courage, the young dragon-turned-halfblood (he was so used to this form that he knew without even thinking that it was the one he'd ended up in) sat up and finally opened his eyes.

Pre-glow indeed. It was pitch black.

A cursory investigation of the room that he had found himself in helped him realize a few things. First, this wasn't the New Citadel. The massive castle that the Kin had helped to shape and create did not have rooms this small. The Old Citadel, on the other hand, had had rooms of all shapes and sizes. Unfortunately, this didn't seem to be there, either. The walls were smooth, not hewn rock. They felt more like plaster than anything...which meant that he was definitely not in the Old Citadel, because plaster can't survive underground.

Secondly, he realized that he was having trouble shifting. It was so dark in the room that normally he would have at least shifted his eyes to be able to see more than an inch in front of his annoying two-legger nose, but trying to do so gave him a headache unlike one he'd ever had before...without helping his vision any. Unsettling. Very, very unsettling.

Thirdly, examination of the bed that he had woken up on yielded a strange sort of hard club. Did...did his captors (because now he was certain that he'd been captured, probably by bitter Elven Lords) expect him to fight? With a club? How uncivilized. Keman preferred a quick, clean kill with his fangs and claws to beating his opponent senseless and bloody.

Oh, and the door was, apparently, unlocked. Whichever Elven Lords had captured them seemed to be extremely inept. The young dragon gripped his club and started to move down what seemed to be a long hallway, cursing his inability to shift.

That was about when he "heard" it. A lilting melody inside his mind. One that he actually recognized.

It "sounded" like Valyn. But...that was impossible! Valyn was dead. The blast that had killed him and his father had leveled the hill on which Lord Dyran had pitched his tent. No one, not even a powerful Elven Lord like Valyn, could survive that. It must have been some other elf. It certainly wasn't Shana.

...Shana. Where was Shana?! He had to find her. What if she was in danger? She was the Elvenbane. If the Elven Lords found her, the could kill her! Keman tried to call out to his foster-sister with his mind, but he was only met with another piecing headache.

"Fewmets," he muttered angrily.

Just what was this place?

[moving here.]

Dinner had been great, even if he hadn't been able to get seconds or thirds. Luffy also generally liked to eat with company whenever he could, but it seemed his roommate had mysteriously decided to skip out on their meal tonight again. He didn't really understand it. After all, who in their right mind would skimp out on eating right before another nighttime adventure?

He didn't have time to dwell on that baffling thought for long, though. The Head Doctor's announcement marked the end of the day (he'd been here more than long enough to figure that out), and tonight he was practically itching to get out. After all, Usopp was going to run around with him tonight. While Luffy could be content to have adventures by himself, he'd actually missed his crew a lot since his arrival, and he was glad to have one of his closest friends around to have fun with.

Come to think of it, Usopp had wanted to meet with him tonight outside his room, right? Luffy didn't really like the thought of standing around and waiting for someone out in the hall. Not because of the threat of monsters, of course, but because it was just so damn boring to do that.

As Luffy stepped outside of his room with his flashlight in hand and his radio around his neck, he figured he could wait at least a little while for the sharpshooter to come around. He plopped down onto the floor, legs crossed and arms folded over his chest. Hopefully he wouldn't drift off to sleep -- or see something really interesting and wander off on his own. He couldn't make any promises, either way.

The door to the bathroom hung open, the hinges oddly twisted, as though some great force had ripped it from its place. Titled and askew, it still concealed what was within. Partially.

Beyond the door, the filthy bathroom stank of blood and sewage. The stained and cracked floors, the water-warped walls, the rusted sinks and toilet stalls all gave off the stench of decay and death. It was a nightmare place, decaying and desecrated. The dark brown stains on cracked porcelain and peeling tile... rust or blood? Or something else altogether?

Things had been drawn to the decay. Oozing slowly and without purpose across the floor, the walls, the sinks, the stalls, the mirrors... fat, red, bloated bodies. Trailing some unholy slime, the leeches clung to the surface of the dank little men's room. They moved with a slow laziness, mouths opening and closing, blood red mouths that promised death.

In untold numbers, pulsing and twitching as, blind bodies sought some form of sustenance.

The bathroom was not a safe place on this night.

Rabastan was on a mission to try to please Severus Snape. Someone should really stop and pity the poor Potions Master. So far, Bast had managed to lose just about everyone he had gotten attached to, and he was determined to not lose Severus. Severus was real after all.

Radio tucked into the crook of his arm, he grinned and shook his head when the nurses tried to get him to play, going for the sweet and cute thing. He did seem to be listening to their warnings to stay off the field then so he wouldn't get hit accidentally by people playing their various games. Heading to the sidelines, he began poking around at the grass and other small plants, trying hard to remember Potion classes from back at Hogwarts. Was that a good one? Or a bad one? Maybe it was a weed.

Either way, Bast plucked it gently and cupped it in his hand as he settled down on the grass and began fully inspecting the area around him. His radio was lectured to as he looked around.

"Mr Head Doctor, do you think we could go to the Arts and Crafts room later today? Severus might like some of the things in there. I'd like to get some of that faerie glitter if you don't mind."

The intercom jingle rang out both inside and outside the institute on speakers loud enough to broadcast clearly across the recreational field.

"It's been a busy day, hasn't it? Well, fortunately for all of us, it's nearly over, and we can all look forward to some rejuvenating shut-eye--that is, after dinner, of course."

The Head Doctor chuckled.

"Supper for tonight is going to consist of individual servings of chicken pot pie, with mashed potatoes and peas as sides. You may ask your nurse about the usual selection of drinks, and... Oh! Some of you might find that you have some new guests in your rooms belonging to... Group 5, I believe...? Please see to it that our new patients spend their first night at Landel's Institute as peacefully as possible!"

He paused, then added:

"Oh, and Nurse Hondor? Could you please report to my office? Thank you."

The intercom clicked off.

[ OOC: Remember how dinner shift works--everyone posts to this post with individual threads for each room. New characters waking up during this shift will do so in their respective threads, though if your roommate's player is unable to play with you during your intro, feel free to work something out so that your roommate is taking a nap or something. XD; ]

Not wanting to be dragged along on whatever Mission of Annoyance Schuldig had planned for himself at lunch, Farfarello instead headed straight into the cafeteria, alone.

The tranquil haze of the drugs was fading and the thought of being stuck in a room with dozens and dozens of strangers was starting to make the hair on the back of Farfarello's neck stand on end. He'd spent the last year and change mostly in solitary confinement, except for visits from Schuldig and the times he was let out for missions, and being expected to sit calmly and have his lunch while surrounded by potential threats was not something the Irishman wanted to deal with; unfortunately, he had no choice, so at least he could get there early and find a table close to a wall.

Much to Farfarello's surprise he was not only early, but the earliest patient to arrive in the cafeteria. He almost expected to find rank, disgusting food, as a result--if patients were so reluctant to come to lunch, surely there was a reason--but instead was reasonably pleased by what he found. Two sloppy joes and a token piece of fruit later, Farfarello retreated towards the tables, only to find that not one of them was isolated enough for him. So, he grabbed a chair, dragged it into a corner, and sat down with his back to the wall and his tray balanced on his lap.

He would get through lunch without getting sedated again, no matter what it took.

Aidou Hanabusa, a vampire, was one of the first into the cafeteria, which was swimming in dim sunlight. A grey morning suited his mood.

The fact that his biological clock was pitching fits was only the cherry on top of the cake; the last thing he wanted to do was sleep. "Waking up", once again, with no memory of how or why he'd been brought back to room M52 infuriated him, on top of getting absolutely nothing done during the night. In the (miniscule) self-deprecating part of his mind, he thought it served him right for making concessions for humans. He wasn't going to make that mistake again, no matter how alone he was.

Aidou secluded himself in a corner. Solid food couldn't replace what he was missing, but it would keep his appetite in check. For a while. If his better sense told him not to repeat yesterday's mistakes, then at least he could forget tablets and go hunting tonight. It wasn't like Aidou was required to follow protocol during Landel's fine nightshift. No one else did.

No one from home would think less of him for cutting corners, either. If they hadn't been able to find him by now, then things were worse than he imagined. With a table piled high with food, he cupped his chin in his hand and let his gaze wander. He had a fair idea where the female cell block was. It wouldn't be difficult to overpower a young girl...

Eventually grabbing the knife, Aidou poked at one of his many bagels. He'd been right about to find a suitable instrument in the mail room, something long and sharp enough to cut into a bat and allow him to see what similarities remained on the inside... The plastic blade sank through the bread, went through the paper plate underneath it, and finally snapped in two against the plastic tray.

More new "patients". A day of "doctor consultations". It was nothing he'd ever experienced before, nothing he'd ever heard about before, and it was seriously driving him nuts. For the first time in his life, he just wanted to be left alone, without feeling a set of eyes on him.

[[From here.]]

The end of all excursions in this place seemed to be the kitchen. Or at least that was where Recluse had managed to end up in these past two nights. Except now, he wasn't interested in finding a weapon. He was rather glad that he had left the company of other prisoners for this. They might think he actually belonged in a mental institution if they knew that what he was really looking for here was nothing more uncommon than salt.

There were only two doors on the opposite wall. The closest door was simple, slightly dull metal, and obviously led to a walk-in refrigerator. The other was a better candidate for locating his bizarre little prize. Recluse headed towards it, keeping an eye on the surroundings. While he had arrived late, the first floor kitchen had been full of the remains of quite unidentifiable creatures. He didn't want to be ambushed in such a confined space.

[[from here]]

The sound of other people grew louder as they neared a door. Someone else had come up here before, as evidenced by the slight shredding of the doorframe, but it had been shut and locked again.

Sounded like a struggle, Sasuke thought. Seemed this night had been going entirely too smoothly.

"We'll break down the door," he said to Yoshiaki and Lee. "Yoshiaki, as before. Lee -- count of three."

He took a few steps back and looked expectantly at them.

Barret was on a mission. Since his talk with Tifa, he was determined to find a way out of this maze of horror by any means necessary. Sometimes it didn't pay to be a good guy, and now he was ready to play dirty. His heart was toyed with by the appearance of his daughter and old, and very dead friend, his sanity was put into question and his life was in jeopardy as well as his friends. In fact, it was now suspected that Cloud had died...twice. Determination was now his middle name.

He left his room, barely taking notice at all to the roommate his had unwillingly acquired. Perhaps he should have attempted to team up with the guy, but Barret was running on a one track mind. His body was a little sore even though most of his wounds had healed nicely as well as abnormally, and he only noticed this now that he was moving in a swift jog from his room. His eyes were open for enemies but narrowed in a contemplative frown. He was ready to tear shit up.

When he came to an open, empty hallway, he stared hard at the doorway up ahead. Now was a good a time as any to do some exploring.

As the intercom clicked on, one could almost hear a very new, very faint sound emanating from it, and that was the high-pitched whine and scratchy voices on a television. The extra noise was cut short, however, when the Head Doctor seemed to realize he had left his television program on and turned it off so that he could make his announcement.

"And it seems our day has already almost drawn to a close! Ah, well, as is life, eh?"

When he received no response but a cough from his always-present assistant, and he continued.

"In any case, now we will revert to the normal pattern of every evening and have all of you escorted back to your rooms for dinner. Tonight's menu will consist of beef brisket along with cornbread, peas, mashed potatoes, and a cookie for dessert. Starting tonight, however, you will only be receiving water to drink, and as we've found giving too much sugar to patients before bedtime has increased the likelihood of cavities among our charges, each room will also be given a separate, large washing bowl filled with water and two extra glasses of water, along with two toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste, so that we can begin ensuring proper dental care in this facility! We found out a while ago that sending every patient to the bathroom at once was unfeasible with our current numbers, but we hope for this to be an easy solution to the problem.

"We hope for your own sake to receive your cooperation in the act of personal hygiene! Remember: Cleanliness is next to godliness!"

A pause.

"I believe that is all! I will bid you goodnight once dinner is over. We hope you enjoy your meal!"

The intercom clicked off and all was silent again.

[ OOC: Remember the posting format for dinner! You guys all respond to this post with a separate thread for each pair of roommates. Thanks! :D ]

The second the intercom sounded, while the man on the intercom was still talking, Ashton pulled himself off the couch in the Music Room and slowly made his way to the door. He walked, glided even, as if he were a ghost in a dream. The nurses had already filed up to escort the patients to the lunchroom, and one bustled over to walk Ashton those few feet from one room to another.

"You're not looking very well, Mr. Pritchett," she said cheerfully. "Didn't you enjoy your shower?"

Ashton replied with a small, forced smile, then shook his head. He didn't feel like talking now. Though the nurses were pushy and downright annoying, he figured he owed this one at least a little explanation. They didn't know - or didn't believe - what went on after dark, but he owed them the benefit of the doubt. "Bad day," he decided on telling her.

Bad day indeed. The showers and the music had done nothing for his nerves. But then again, what could get that graphic image out of his head?

He glided ghostily through the taco line and settled on two chicken and bean tacos, with chips, a scoop of guacamole, two churros on the side, and a glass of apple juice. He wasn't used to this sort of food (save the juice) and he wasn't even sure he'd eat it, but the chances were high that he'd be able to pass it off on someone.

He was on the verge of tears again, too. What he would have given to just sit down next to a barrel and eat a hamburger.

Thank goodness the cafeteria was bare just now, too. It left all the corner tables open, the tables that shouted 'Don't talk to me, I'm brooding over here.' He sat at one, pushed his food a little away from him, and buried his head in his arms.

Well, that was a complete waste of time.

They were so occupied with fighting that pathetic ape they didn't even got a chance to enter that stupid office. Not even a peek, while the door was wide open. That was just pathetic!

Albel found himself back in his bed. The captain barely had time to wrap his knife in the piece of cloth and stuff it into his pocket before the nurse came in, whining about him missing breakfast. Albel merely glared daggers at her, but instead of taking the hint she just rambled on about the next activity.

The Ellicoorian wasn't particularly looking forward to taking a shower. Not that he had something against personal hygiene, on the contrary. But communal showers were not something Albel was exactly comfortable with, the captain liked his privacy. Part of him just wanted to turn around in his bed and pretend the stupid wench didn't even enter his room, but he knew that wouldn't solve anything. So he allowed himself to be escorted to the showers.

After he had arrived and silently stripped himself of his pathetic excuse of clothing, he walked over the cold, damp tiles. There weren't any of the other worms around just yet, which suited Albel just fine. He picked a shower head removed slightly further from the others. As usual, he wasn't in the mood to socialize. Hopefully, none of the maggots would bother. Showering in the same room was bad enough as it was.

Turning the shower on, he felt the hot water flowing on his body. As he began scrubbing himself, his gaze rested on the ugly but sensitive, burned skin of his left arm. He'd never enjoyed looking at it, it was the mark of his failure, his shame. His mind went back to that incident years back. He remembered the flames, the scream... like it all happened yesterday. And the events a few nights back didn't help any of it.

No, he shouldn't think about it. He couldn't allow himself to be weak, not here. Self-pity wouldn't get him anywhere.