[Moving quickly from here.]

Otacon followed the route he remembered from the daytime, knowing that at some point he'd have to take a door into a larger corridor, then follow that to a turn to the Sun Room. That turn also held a set of stairs, which was his goal.

He'd spent a whole shift looking over the Sun Room, and was certain that none of the "Disciplinary Trial" rooms were there. This was a large hospital — maybe Snake was hidden elsewhere on the first floor? — but he had to trust the logic that if the first floor appeared to be dedicated to patient facilities, then the second floor would contain...

He struggled not to think about the possibilities.

Still shining his flashlight around, Otacon had made his way to the door of his patient block when he heard the radio nearly scare him to death. He paused to listen intently, but the meaning behind the words of the smooth-talking voice escaped him.

This really is a sick game, Otacon thought to himself. He'd never felt more out of his depth than now.

Dreamless slumbers were easy. There was no thought, no images of people or places you knew or ones conjured by your imagination. It was simply you in darkness until your eyelids cracked and the darkness gave way to a light you were unwilling to greet.

Barret dreamt of Marlene. Rather, he saw her visage stilled as a photo before his sight as he gasped a breath to break the chains sleep cast about him. He was in the same room he'd awoken in the night before. This morning was slightly different from the rest. It was this morning he sustained vast injuries he was acutely aware of by simply breathing in the institute air. It might as well been poisonous taint--everything about the place was taint. Only the stilled image of his angel made it seem endurable.

Yet even the remembrance of that little girl brought his heart to a chilling halt. This imprisonment seemed hopeless at every turn. It was as if every moment, if he wasn't confronted with the fact all escape was a little less than impossible, he heard new imformation to enforce this fact.

Wallace wasn't one for giving up, yet in his newest form of injury, he felt like a useless slab of meat. He recalled the days when he truly had something to offer, not only to the comrades that battled along side of him, but the little girl he grew to call his own and truly believe it in his heart.

His large hands gripped the sheets at his sides, inhaling a sharp breath not only at the pain, but the sorrow that was washing over him in a tidal wave of misery.

"Marlene..." he whispered in a trembling voice, shaking his head over and over at the troubling thoughts invading his mind. All attempts to banish them were futile, "Daddy don't know if he can get out of this one...but he gonna try..."

The words were not believable, not even as he spoke them. It was in his eyes--for the moment at least, he was giving up.

The nurses' cheerful voice barely registered as she rattled off about him missing breakfast. It didn't matter. He wasn't hungry anyway. She mentioned something about leaving the room, heading for the next scheduled activity, and nothing but complete blankness crossed his face as she continued to babble. She took his wrist, which was heavy and limp. He didn't even have the resolve to talk back to her, in which she must have seen his reluctance and silence as something more than what it was. Out of the corner of his eye, he finally saw a wheelchair positioned by the bed for convenience. Was his condition that severe? As he moved to seat himself in it with her aid, he noticed he in fact, was. He felt devestated.

It was interesting how she didn't make mention of his wounds. The clean stab through just above his gut was stitched on both sides, the gash as his knee was bandaged as was the slice at his gut. She must have thought them self-inflicted.

Maybe he really was insane.

He might as well have been comatose. His expression was non-existent as the nurse continued to ramble, pushing him down the hallway toward their destination.

When they entered the library, his care went from zero to in the negative numbers. She placed him gently at the head of one of the tables and asked if he needed help locating any books. When no answer came, she frowned but patted his shoulder in a comfort before leaving the broken patient behind.

He felt like shit.

((coming from here ))

Takaya frowned while he walked. He hated not having anything to defend himself. The blond guy he was following didn't look very promising either.

He was already sick of this crap, and he'd only just gotten started. He really wanted out, and it didn't look too bad right now. If they could avoid trouble and meet up with this person, then maybe Takaya could learn something useful. He clenched a fist around his still off flashlight while following Ginji.

He really hated this whole mess...

Washu... was feeling down. No real progress on her patients, and that nice boy had called her- her, Washu the Greatest Genius in the Universe!- a terrible person! Why couldn't they see the glories of science? Why didn't they believe her when she pointed the way to a better way of life? Maybe... maybe her science wasn't enough. Maybe it took more than genius to save someone. "...maybe I'm not cut out for this after all?"

As if on cue, two little dolls of Washu, one with an 'A' on its belt and the other with a little 'B', popped up on her shoulders, waving vaguely humanoid arms and cheering her on. A shouted, "Don't give up, Washu!"

B seemed in complete agreement. "They need you, Washu!"

Then, in unison, both announced, "Only the great genius Washu can help them~!"

And just like that, Washu was back to her normal self. "You're right, as always! The greatest scientific mind can't give in after just a couple of setbacks! Bring on the next patients, Doctor Hakubi Washu is in!"

...heaven help those poor patients...

((OOC: For Kaoru, Kurama, Caim, Lexaeus, Marluxia, Zoro, and Epros.))

That had been unpleasant.

Grimacing to himself, Kadaj followed his nurse to the arts & crafts room in relative silence, head down and arms crossed over his chest as he trudged slowly forward. It wasn't so much the incident during breakfast that was bothering him, and in fact if anything he thought it was absolutely hilarious, but arguing with what seemed like half the population of Landel's on the bulletin board hadn't really done much to improve his state of mind. Not much really did.

At least Yazoo was here now. That was something. Unfortunately, the other silver-haired man wasn't in the same group as Kadaj so it would be awhile yet before he got to talk to him again. Horrible thought, to be split up from him after they'd only just been (HA) reunited, but Landel's had probably planned it that way. They would, after keeping him away from his family for so long. And where was Loz?!

He was getting angry again. Shutting his eyes tightly for a moment, he didn't realize they had arrived at their destination until the nurse gently called his name to get his attention. His eyes snapped open again, and after giving her a vicious glare, he stalked into the room and found a nice, secluded area to sit in, utterly baffled at the presence of... candy and frosting?! Just what the hell were they planning?! Well, he wasn't going to fall victim to it, whatever it was. They could try this on someone else.

Letting out a long, drawn out sigh, he closed his eyes again and made an effort to compose himself. The more unstable he became, the more childish he became, and it was all too likely he'd lash out at the first person who talked to him. He couldn't let that happen. Mother would be disappointed. Yes. He had to think of her. She wouldn't want him to let the people here get to him. He would persevere. She'd be so proud when she saw him again. Ha ha...

A much more familiar expression of smug self-assurance began to creep onto his features, and he let it slowly grow until he at least looked like his usual self. There, see? All better.

The intercom came on with a friendly click.

"I hope you all had a very good breakfast, as we're going to be beginning our therapy sessions for the day!" The Head Doctor sounded as sane and pleasant as ever. "Nurses, would you please escort Group 1 patients to their respective doctors as they become available? Group 2 patients should go to the Arts & Crafts room. The guided activity for today is going to be constructing gingerbread houses with frosting, gumdrops, candy canes, and other assorted non-toxic materials."

Although the familiar sound of papers being shuffled could be heard, it seemed as if their weight and number had dwindled since nightshift; it would be safe to say that this was the last batch of patients for the day.

"Our new arrivals, of course, will be joining Group 2 in the Arts & Crafts room--Daniel Adams, Jack Doughter, Ryou Itou, Sean Li, Jess Matthews, Peter Snide, and.... Harry Houdini. Well, I suppose some people must still carry that surname! Heh... hehe. Ahem."

He coughed and cleared his throat.

"Moving right along! Nurses and orderlies, you've been trained on how to carry out the therapy for today; make sure it all runs well. And, to our doctors: You have with you briefings of all your patients, and, if anyone should get out of hand, make sure to call in other members of the staff for your own protection. Thank you."

The intercom clicked off.

[ OOC Note: Each doctor will make their own post, to which their respective patients will respond independently. That is---if, say, Washu makes a post, her patients will respond to that post and each patient will have their own separate back-and-forth thread between the doctor and themselves. A new round of doctor-posts will be made to this comm for Group 2. The Arts & Crafts room can be posted by anyone who wants to take it up, as per usual, and from now on, please make sure your intro posts stay as responses to this intercom post, even if they involve LE RESISTANCE? Thanks! X3; ]