[From here.]

While it had taken some time for Dean to get the bus started, now there seemed to be little trouble with getting it moving. It was a far cry from the Impala -- even Castiel knew that -- but it seemed like so long as it had a steering wheel and traveled on land, Dean knew how to drive it.

Despite Dean's suggestion, however, Castiel wasn't willing to go sit down, even though there were more than enough seats to choose from. While he doubted that most monsters would be able to get to them when they were in the bus, that didn't mean he was comfortable enough to not keep some sort of look out. Figuring that Dean would need to keep his eye on the road ahead (it wasn't well-lit, after all, and they were surrounded by a thick forest on either side), Castiel took on the task of looking through the windshield at the area around them. He remained standing, slightly to the side from where Dean was sitting, and grabbed for a bar overhead to keep his balance as the bus passed over unsteady ground. If something tried to ambush them, he wanted to be aware of it.

None of this felt particularly safe, but that was almost comfortable for someone like Castiel. What he and Dean were doing now -- it reminded him of past times, of times that Dean had not yet experienced.

"You know the way, correct? There should only be one road." Still, if they got turned around or took a wrong turn, it could turn very bad for them.

[From here.]

The sensation of the crisp night air causing his face to sting was not completely new, but Castiel was still hardly used to it. Temperature hadn't affected his vessel before he'd been drained of his power, and it was yet another aspect of being more human that got under his skin, literally. The trenchcoat he was wearing had a practical use now, and he grabbed at one of the flaps with a temporarily free hand (his flashlight was tucked under his arm), pulling it tighter around himself.

"Dean," he started, ignoring the way that his breath became visible in front of him, "we now know for certain that there is a device that is limiting our strength. If we can locate that again and disable it permanently, escape will become possible." It was a better lead than he'd found during his whole time here, and he didn't think it should be downplayed.

The area in front of the institute contained a few buses, all which were parked and seemingly at rest. Castiel eyed them. He didn't even know how to drive a car, but Dean certainly did. He glanced over at the man. "What are the chances that you could get one of those working?"

[From here.]

Castiel didn't know if Dean had ever been to this room, but he suspected he must have, seeing how he'd been in this place for a longer period of time. Even if this was Dean's first time here, however, there wasn't much to be said about the room. There wasn't anything remarkable about it beyond it being a means to get outside.

He marched toward the door on the other side of the room, solely focused on that. "This is why I asked you," he explained. "It's locked." He grabbed for the knob and found that like before, it refused to turn much under his grip.

With that demonstration made, Castiel realized he should continue his report. "When Aguilar showed himself last night, he outed one of the soldiers as a traitor. However, this had been anticipated. The traitor and his cohort had rigged one of the wristbands we were given, which managed to short-circuit the device that the general had on him. When that happened, my strength returned, as did everyone's in the institute, from what I understand."

Which meant that device -- or whatever had replaced it -- was the key. If they could disable that again and also find a way through the barrier that had gone up, then escape would be a possibility rather than an unlikelihood.

[From here]

Looked like she was the first one out this way. Utena stopped just short of the Sun Room, turning her light back to see if anyone she knew was coming up the hall behind her. No one so far.

Utena switched her light off as she leaned back against the wall. She was pretty sure everyone preferred not to be fighting hordes of rotting dogs and bigfoot monsters again tonight, so she figured the less attention she called to herself out here, the better. The only downside to doing that was that it made seeing down the hall a bit more difficult. She squinted a bit, eyes trying to adjust to the near-pitch darkness as she pictured what one of her silhouetted companions might look like.

It was kind of a weird group they had put together when she really looked at it. She and Aigis had been friends before, of course, but she never would have pegged the quiet Aigis being friends with someone as brash as Sechs. And neither of them really knew much about the redhead; Utena didn't even know if they knew his real name or not. They had worked together well enough the night before, though, both in combat and as a riddle-solving team. She had a good feeling about the group, despite them not all each other that well yet. Getting to know Sechs that afternoon had been an interesting and enlightening experience in contrast to the violence she had seen from him the night before, and she had to admit, the mysterious redhead at the very least intrigued her, even if he seemed to share some of Touga's or Landel's smugness. She was looking forward to seeing what they could all get done tonight — and beyond, for that matter.

She kept a careful eye out from her spot in the shadows, wondering who would show up first.

The words of the Head Doctor, back to power and gloriously maniacal as ever, slid cleanly past Peter Parker's ears and dripped unnoticed to the floor. The few that stuck - something about the radio guy, and losing a girl - they hit no notes within him. He held onto them, but set them aside for another day. Things were too woozy to even consider theorizing.

Peter had risen gingerly from his bed and strode to the closet. Things were arranged exactly the way they had been in his old room, down to the way the coats and sweaters folded as they fell from the hanger. Peter pushed them aside to take a peak at the long red and blue ensemble waiting for him. He stared. His vision began to water, and he quietly took the coat concealing it and slid it back into place.

The webshooter, the flashlight, and the as of yet unused ring. Those were the only things he brought with him out the door. He didn't feel like Spider-Man tonight. And if he was going to see Brainy, he wanted to do it as he had known him.

Besides, he didn't need the map to find the morgue.

[To here.]

[from here]

As much as Sangamon might deny it, Landel's words were echoing around in his head. He'd met the type a dozen times before. Utterly self-centered. Sociopaths, except they'd learned how to fake enough human interest to work their way into a CEO's office instead of a jail cell.

Nah, not quite. Landel had a bit of interest in his fellow humans. If he was human at all. It was just interest in seeing them suffer. Aguilar had that bottomless pit, into which all empathy went. Whether he'd had it before he entered the military or not was anyone's guess. Induced or intrinsic, he'd had his humanity surgically excised. While Landel took his and twisted it. S.T. wasn't sure which was worse.

[to here]

[from here]

S.T was navigating by a fingertip on the wall and the slight breeze of a functioning HVAC system. The halls were dark again. Completely empty, too. He was out early. And he was still thinking.

Something so fallible, he'd said. So that talk about a device had been true? Freaky. Maybe he really wasn't human. Replaced by a machine, and pouting about it. Long live the industrial revolution. He was glad he'd taken the radio. If they were going to be treated to another very special episode, he wanted to hear it.

[to here]

Anise had been lying snug in bed, only vaguely aware that she was awake, when her rest was disturbed by the one sound in the world she'd never wanted to hear again.

"Good morning, everyone!"

The girl's eyes shot open and she immediately sat up straight. There was no doubt about it. That was the Head Doctor, that bastard, and he was back! Now that she was wide awake, Anise realized she was wearing the institute's old uniform again, and that the decorative items in her room had been left alone.

It was hard to contain her frustration at hearing the man run through the breakfast menu as if it were any other day, and she ended up throwing a pillow against a wall before pulling herself out of bed. Didn't Marc get a chance to kill that guy? What about the army? Landel had to have pulled some dirty trick to end up back in the Head Doctor's seat.

Seething was only going to get Anise so far, though, and she knew she'd have to go out and face the day. She wasn't surprised when a clueless nurse came to pick her up, though she wasn't any less annoyed that the hag was carrying on as if nothing had happened. At least she had Tokunaga back with her...

Finally, she reached the Cafeteria, where Anise instinctively moved to line up at the real-food counter... before realizing they weren't divided anymore. More importantly, though, the food looked and smelled not only edible, but delicious. Whatever happened yesterday seemed to be over, thank goodness. She loaded up a plate full of waffles topped with strawberries and made her way over to a seat.

There was a lot to think about, but she needed to take things one at a time. Since she'd gone all of yesterday with nothing to eat but candy and chocolate (something she may not have objected to if she were a little younger), getting some real food into her body was Priority Number One. And Priority Number Two was... oh! Luke had to be around somewhere. He promised he'd meet her that day, so she had to keep an eye out for him!

[for Luke]

[From here.]

Did that just happen?

Peter slowed as he entered the safety of the outer hall (safety, really?), turning back to boggle at the door behind him. What - no. No way the cat monsters were that frail. Landel's did not work like that. Nothing was ever that easy here. They didn't get treated, they got tricked. Heart pounding, he checked the hall up and down. Once certain that he was alone, Peter pressed a shaking hand to the wall. Stick.

And it did.

His jaw did drop then. Peter was still for a moment. Switched off his flashlight and tied the pillowcase over his shoulder, then pressed both his hands to the wall. Then his feet. Then up further, rising up and up, then gravity flipped and he was staring down at the floor.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Was that the power the pink had granted him? The limits were off? Peter clung to the ceiling, the pillowcase settled on his stomach as he crawled upside down. His heart was beating. He was afraid. He was going to drop any minute. They were going to take it away. Or what if this was another challenge like the Coliseum? Something worse was in store because of this?

He almost stopped entirely. Then he thought of Jessica.

"No no no, she's gotta - maybe..."

Peter Parker was all but invisible in the pitch black hallway, crawling higher than most flashlights dared to venture as he found the exit.

[To here.]

[Coming from here.]


Daemon glided out into the wider corridor and paused for a moment, letting Renji join him, taking a moment to probe the shadows with his senses, looking for anything out of the norm. There was a tingle down his spine, the sensation of being watched, though he couldn't find its exact location, just the knowledge that it was there. He paused, debating on whether it was worth the effort of searching out, or leaving it to others while he and Renji kept heading for the stairs. He could see them from here, the door illuminated by his witchlight just off to his right.

He waited for Renji to join him, figuring the Shinigami would want a say.

"There are things moving in the shadows," he murmured to the redhead as the male moved out from the corridor behind him. Daemon didn't look at all disturbed by this statement, floating a few inches above the ground with a relaxed grace that was utterly foreign for their situation. Looking almost bored, he studied his black-tinted nails with a sleepy, hooded gaze.

Emergency. Emergency. Initiate CODE RED. Initiate CODE RED.

The blaring alarm had Daemon jolting to his feet, journal dropped forgotten to the bed and staff grabbed instinctively from beside him as wide golden eyes darted around the darkened room, braced for an attack. It hit him a moment later, a wave of something, so malevolent that for a moment he stumbled, going to his knees. It stole his breath and for a moment, his senses spun as he knelt there, disoriented.

That’s when he felt it, a subtle enticing pulse that felt as natural to him as his own heartbeat. He didn’t believe it at first, several seconds ticking past as he knelt there, frozen with shock. And then he tried calling in his Jewels, afraid to hope that what he was feeling was real and not some twisted illusion.

But no, the deep Red ring that appeared on his right hand was real, glinting faintly at him with an inner glow all its own. And there was a weight about his neck, one he recognized even before he lifted a shaking hand to find the pendant dangling there, with the familiar mounted Black Jewel at its center.

He stared at it for another long heartbeat, afraid to breathe, afraid to move, afraid this was some taunting dream he’d wake up from at any second, but that seductive whisper of his power, the depth of the abyss, it pulled at him like a siren’s call. He dove deep, descending through the lighter webs in a controlled dive, moving faster and faster the darker he went. When he reached the Black layer of his inner web, he threw his head back and unleashed a victorious cry, unable to help himself.

His Jewels were back. His powers. Everything.

He was going to wash this place red with blood before dawn.

An instant later, the room filled with an icy chill so cold and so sudden that the bed beside him cracked with the force of it. His smile was sharp and feral, eyes gone vicious as he prowled towards the door with all the deadly grace of a predator ready to hunt. He started donning shields as he went, just in case, taking no chances, not now. A Black shield snapped into place, coating him like a second skin. Another layered on top of that. He reserved the reservoir of his Birthright Red for anything else he might need as backup before donning a sight shield, making him invisible as he glided out into the darkened Institute.

The Sadist had come out to play.

[Going to here.]

Code Red. Initiate—

The sudden sensation hit Riku hard. Just as he stood up to grab his sword in preparation, the power overwhelmed him and made his knees buckle fast. What was happening? It wasn't right. The feeling of this place had never been this intense before, and the stinging in his leg was still there. That feeling wasn't one he was unfamiliar with. Before, it was a faint stench—always there and unavoidable, but now—now he wasn't so sure. His fingers curled as he drew in sharp breaths and dealt with the overwhelming Darkness of this place. He always thought it was strange, how muted and subdued it was, and now it was like it was right there, swallowng him whole—

Focus.

He blinked through it. After all he'd been through, he couldn't let a little Darkness stop him. But it was strange. Though the pain in his leg remained, mere seconds before that all hit, it was stinging a lot more, and now it was fading. At his fingertips, he felt stronger, at peace with himself. Just beyond, he could feel his keyblade right there. That wasn't normal, because usually, he couldn't summon it unless something was about to stab him. That was what happened last time, anyway.

He looked down at his hands in askance, and thought fast. This place had limitations, but right now—

A smirk covered his lips as he held out his hand, and bright light swirled around it. A moment later, his keyblade appeared. Just like that. "Guess it's not all bad." Whatever happened, he was glad for this place's Darkness, at least for this. It meant he got his power back. It was just too bad he really had to smell this place while he did it. In a way, the intensity would disrupt a lot of his action tonight, but he wasn't someone who would let himself be held back that easily. Riku unsummoned his keyblade and stored away the short sword he won. Things would be a lot easier tonight.

But there was one more thing to check. Riku hesitated, remembering his fatigue from before, and then he cast cure on himself. It wasn't too surprising when he felt fine right after. In fact, he felt invincible.

It probably wasn't good to think that, though. He knew that much. Invincibility could only get him so far, but maybe—maybe "so far" wasn't that bad. Riku grabbed his flashlight and stepped outside.

[for Sora ... and Venom]

Renji walked with purpose down the hall, though he wasn't in enough of a hurry to flashstep yet. He had to have somewhere he wanted to go first. Of course the idea that sprang instantly to mind was easily summed up as an equation: INSTITUTE + HIHIOU ZABIMARU = BOOM = :-D

However, that would need to wait until, for example, there weren't people he liked in the institute. And even with the Shinigami gone, he was sure there were people he liked around. Sora and Kairi sprang instantly to mind. So how to work that out? And he was sure there were other people around that had their own brand of kidou that could blow some shit up in a way that would paste a permanent smile on his face.

Organizing. That organizing thing needed to happen. And fast.

Dean was convinced the universe had it out to bone any Winchesters it could.

He didn’t like getting wrangled into something and basically forced to do someone’s dirty work and being told that yeah, he better go on some half-cocked Rambo mission or the other patients would get hit with something didn’t exactly sit well with him. He didn’t care how they dressed it up. That was blackmail and hostages and he knew perfectly well that they could carry out that threat. The fact that Ruby was gonna be riding Sammy and him on this was just the bullshit cherry on a bullshit cake.

What he wouldn’t do for an excuse to exorcise her. Dean found his teeth grinding.

This was one of the times he started to regret making that crossroads deal. Not that he’d ever regret saving Sam. Totally worth it. But there was all the other mind-games with these demons and their friggen agendas and he wasn’t even sure what was up and down with the damn things anymore. So much for knowing that all he had to do was gank these things and that was it, end of story, possibly get a “thanks, you’re so awesome” screw, blow on out with the Impala and Sam. He kinda missed those days, even if they suddenly felt far away.

Dean was the first out the door without asking the others. The thing to do was insist Ruby take point, since she was, y’know, expendable (it wasn’t like she could die in the first place), but giving her a chance to scope things out before he did wasn’t an option.

He did that awkward half-trip as the environment changed on him. Star Trek totally had it wrong with the whole teleporting thing. It wasn’t easy and it wasn’t even cool looking. He guessed he was lucky he didn’t break his neck tripping over a rock or something, Dean catching himself against a tree and in the next instance righting himself, bringing up the sawed-off and going for cover, all in one smooth motion as if he’d done this before for a living. So far nothing came screaming bloody murder from the jungle. Big plus there.

Dean covered their little patch of jungle while he waited for the others to pop out behind him. No door he could see, no sign these “rebels” or whatever they were really called were onto them.

[ from here ]

As Erika approached the meeting spot, she was pleased to see that she was, indeed, first to reach there. This was to be expected: Erika was closest to this particular hallway and she could have given the others a minute's head start and still probably beat them while walking at a leisurely pace. But Erika had hurried to get here and set up camp anyway, directing her flashlight to the ceiling while dropping her bag next to her feet.

Perhaps the detective was so anxious to get there first in an effort to get back at Sync for implying that he more or less found her useless. Yet he followed her around anyway! Hopefully, this would be the last "team exercise" she would be expected to perform in this place so she could finally rid herself of him.

This hallway was as empty as the last one, but Erika knew she was going to see some traffic very soon. There was only one place on her map where a med wing was and it was east, just as Aguilar said. It was definitely a place that she would visit sometime soon so she could collect more of those pins, but not tonight. After all, Erika wasn't so desperate for a pin that she would willingly subject herself to Unknown Drug X. Let the other idiots work out the side effects and she'd be more than happy to step in if the risks were really worth it.

[from here]

He slipped silently down the hallway, flashlight (turned off) in hand, as he couldn't fit it into a pocket with both the bulky radio as well as the gun. A hassle, but bearable. Having a portable source of light handy with him while wandering dark corridors was actually rather helpful, even if normally, Vino wouldn't have bothered with it at all. Light showed up too brightly in darkness when he needed to be invisible.

Like a shadow, he passed through this larger hallway in his block, ignoring all the doors. He'd tried them all before. Besides, his job wasn't to break into a room. At least, not completely, anyway.

[to here]

When the familiar crackle came on from overhead, Claire had paused, then continued about his business, sorting through the few possessions he had in his box and setting them into seemingly random positions on his desk, looking as listlessly bored as he'd been just prior to the announcement. But he was quiet, quite aware of what this Aguilar man was saying. Ah, so he'd been right about his nurse after all -- it had been a play, hadn't it? He himself hadn't received any visit or letter from one of these supposed "loved ones" today, but all the same, it was a terrible trick to play, wasn't it?

Still, there was a sort of liking he took in this Eagle. The man was straightforward and he said things clearly. Simple truths, just like that. There were none of the stories that Martin Landel had come up with in his words, though those stories had been interesting in their own right. But Aguilar shared that same, self-righteously entitled attitude as Landel. Who was he to trespass on other people's worlds? Claire's world? That wasn't allowed. Claire couldn't allow that.

As the voice continued on, Claire finished sorting through all his belongings, then replaced all but a few back into the metal box, closing the lid with a snap. His dinner lay untouched, pushed to one side of his desk, but aside from that, the only loose items on the table top were the flashlight, the handheld radio, and the gun.

The gun. He picked it up, weighing it in one hand. The voice droned onward as he ejected the magazine, counted the bullets -- one, two only -- then slipped the magazine back into place. He raised his arm straight before him, the one with the lightning burn, and took aim down the barrel at an invisible target on the blank wall before him. As the message ended, his finger jerked slightly on the trigger, but came up against resistance. The safety was still on. No worries.

What was worrisome was the fact that it was almost as if someone at the top had just made a gift of this weapon, as if telling him, here, let me provide with a way to kill your enemy. Which felt an awful lot like someone was baiting him -- do this, you know you want to. And that wouldn't do at all. The problem with the entire Institute here wasn't that they were telling lies to all the inhabitants and keeping them locked in one place -- it was that the people who ran this place acted as if they could control these people, as if these lives were theirs to control in the first place. The gall of that assumption! Everything Claire was hearing now about that new Medical Wing was positively charged with it. It was... annoying. Yes, annoying was the right word to use here.

He really had been in that medical ward for too long, he decided. He needed to get out and do something.

The click of the unlocking door was his signal to leave. Claire twirled the gun expertly around his finger with practiced ease, smoothly slipping it into his pocket. Really, if they were going to be so generous as to give him a gun, they might as well have provided a holster with it. Not that it mattered too much, though. He grabbed the radio and flashlight, then headed for the door.

With a wave over his shoulder to his new roommate, Vino left the room.

[to here]

There was only so much knitting one small girl could do by herself. This quantity was far from exhausted in one short afternoon, but there was an entire Institute to explore, and time a more precious commodity than yarn.

Rose took her leave, and darted out through the gathering shadows in the Sun Room to the open courtyard beyond.

It was still winter. This had not ceased to be the case since the last time she had been outside. It was also empty, save for the guards flanking the building's every orifice. They didn't seem to get nervous unless she neared the wall, so she stopped trying that after a few minutes. Unfortunately, aside from provoking the guards, there didn't seem to be much to do out here in the daytime.

Rather than admit defeat, she found a promising snowdrift, and toppled back into it. There, rather than windmilling her arms and legs like a useless angel, she pressed them down in sinuous curves, then lifted them straight up, and repeated the process several times before rising up. Hm. The result was still rather humanoid in nature, even after adding eyes to what had once been a torso.

The vines by the wall were more suited to the task than human limbs. She tugged a few outliers free from their snowy prison, and stacked them in a pile. Then she gathered up a handful of snow and started rolling it.

[Alle?]

Brunch had tasted delicious as usual, but he still felt guilty for enjoying it when so many other patients weren't as fortunate as him and Ritsuka. Still, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't grateful for his meals. His appetite had been pretty spotty during the week after his "sleep study", so Claude wanted to think he was making up for lost time by packing it away now.

In the meantime, it looked like they really were playing a movie this shift. Claude had half wondered if they'd simply been putting on an act for the benefit of any civilians in the building, but that didn't seem to be the case. That was good, at least. It meant that he and Guy could follow through on the plans they made a week ago -- back when Claude was still suffering from the immediate affects of the experiments, and Guy had kindly offered to stay with him.

That seemed so long ago now, and yet Claude could still feel his stomach knot up with uncertainty when he thought about the implications of what the doctors had done to him. Without thinking about it, he brought his hand up to crest inscribed onto his shoulder, beneath the fabric of his sleeve. He'd kept himself so busy that he'd never spent much time examining it.

But now wasn't the time to get wrapped up in that. It was easy to let himself get distracted by things he couldn't control if his mind wandered to much. Instead, Claude was going to try his best to enjoy his time with Guy.

After settling down on one of the couches in front of the projection screen, Claude leaned back and folded his arms over his chest as he kept a look-out for his friend.

Edgar's charming company had raised Anise's spirits enough that not even the Head Doctor's voice could bring them back down. Besides, she was feeling pretty sure that Landel wasn't actually around. To begin with, it wouldn't make sense, and secondly, his announcements sounded suspiciously like ones she'd already heard before. While Anise wasn't very familiar with Earth technology, she'd seen the little devices in the Music Room that could play recordings of people's voices. This had to be something like that.

It wasn't long before Anise was escorted to the Cafeteria, and then to the section where edible food was being served. As she filled her plate with waffles, fruit, and sausages, she looked to the other side of the counter with a look of sympathy. It was hard to enjoy her own meals while knowing what the other patients had to suffer through.

She wasn't about to refuse her meals just out of guilt, though. Anise needed her strength for tonight. There was still a bit of a nervous twist in her stomach whenever she thought about what could happen down in the basement... but she wasn't going to back down. Not after promising her friends they'd go together.

With her tray in hand, Anise seated herself at an empty table in the middle of the room. She preferred to have company while eating, but it looked like she was one of the first patients there, so there was no one to sit with. Maybe if she minded her manners and tried to look her cutest, she'd attract someone handsome! Holding her utensils delicately, she began to cut her waffles into smaller pieces.

[For Battler.]