[from here]

The room was dark, of course, as all the rooms were at night. But nothing immediately jumped out of the shadows and there weren't any sounds of movement (or ghosts making scary noises), so Hanatarou edged a little farther in, to near the edge of the circle of light cast by the flashlight Peter held, and examined the closest shelves. "This is it," he observed, perking up a little as he pulled a box of gloves off a shelf and held it up. "It's the right place."

If Peter even understood that. Hopefully he'd at least recognize the box and its contents and get the idea? This was going to be a little annoying, but at least they didn't need to communicate very well to say, 'hey, grab that box of bandages' or anything. It should work out... so long as nothing unpleasant decided to show up.

He hadn't just doomed them by thinking that, had he? Hopefully not. Hanatarou quickly turned back to the shelves and pulled out his pillowcase, thinking very, very hard about supplies and only supplies and what they needed to get.

[from here]

"Ah, that's right, I have not yet told you," Aigis said, though her voice remained a bit distracted as she gazed around the new corridor. "I am not human, although I have been built to resemble one. I am actually an Anti-Shadow Emergency Control Weapon. Back home, I would travel through a dark tower destroying the monsters that threaten to bring down humanity." She looked back at Rei for a moment. "You could say I am used to these conditions."

There were many doors in this hallway, and it seemed untouched for now. Here there was no whispered voices or tapping of feet, but that did not rule out the possibility of life beyond. Even in the darkness, someone or something could be waiting, preparing to strike. She walked further in, carefully scanning the area with her flashlight beam.

[From here]

Exact mirror of the ones they'd climbed before, these stairs held no surprises, as far as the Royal could tell. Hopefully they'd be able to cross the hallway at the top and make it to the closet without attracting that attention of the woman with the electric sword - or any other nasties in the wings, for that matter.

[From here]

Unfortunately, the staircase door was more than eager to announce Tifa's presence onto the second floor.

So much for the element of surprise...

Hopefully nothing big was lumbering around close enough to have heard the loud creak and the click that followed, despite her painstaking efforts to close it as slowly as possible. Keeping her back to the door, she quickly shined her flashlight all around the hallway to make sure it was safe. The yellow light didn't pick up anything, not even another patient. That seemed very strange. This was the first time she was alone, and the quiet was the most uncomfortable. There was always someone walking around, making small talk with a partner, or simply flashing a light down one of the halls... Well, being squeamish over silence wasn't the solution to her worries.

No time like the present.

Her feet fell across the tile at an angle, which kept the sound of her sneakers to a minimum. It made it awkward to walk briskly, but there was nothing running after her, so there was no rush. Eventually her flashlight began to pick up the glint of doorknobs. The first door opened up to a large room with washing machines, so that was out. The next one held nothing of import for her, at least tonight, so she continued. The next three were tough suckers; they wouldn't budge even after a few kicks to the frame. "Hmmm..." This wasn't boding well.

Well, all she could do was just keep trying. Thankfully, the third on the left opened and looked very promising. It was already giving after one kick, however; it opened outward instead of inward. Kind of a problem when all you can do is kick.

What to do?

It didn't take long to figure out a solution. Taking out her materia, the brunette willed a burst of ice over the doorknob. It took a lot more mental willpower than she remembered, as she pinched her eyes shut in concentration. The windy aura eventually died down and what was left was a chunk of ice surrounding the lever. Tifa lifted her leg up and slammed it down across the doorknob, easily cracking lock and all off on the floor.

[To here]

[from here]

The unavoidable truth was that Mello wasn't positive Matt had anything to gain from an escape. He'd heard over and over again, and seen the evidence himself, that people who were 'released' had no memories of the place, and the question of whether you could change something that had already happened if you did remember enough was the brunet's area of interest, not Mello's. It hadn't been until now, anyway.

"Why'd you help me, back home?" He'd been avoiding asking that question, which by its very nature implied an uncertainty he'd been trying his best to mask. No reason to do that anymore. It had been five years, almost to the day, now, for Mello, since he'd left without saying goodbye. He probably would've laughed out loud at anyone who'd called him after all that time and asked for a hand. Not that Mello would have asked. Hell, he'd probably started off that exchange with 'How fast can you get here?'

[From here]

Unlike the western section, the central portion of this hallway was completely deserted. On any other night, von Karma would have used this to his advantage to arrive at one of the upstairs locations before anyone else did. The Janitor's Closet, for one, contained a large cache of metal that he could use to compensate Mr. Geeste for the work he would do for him three nights later.

But for now, von Karma merely had to go as far as the very first doorway to his right, which led straight into Waiting Room 1. This was far more important -- though less pleasant -- than his prospective metal scavenger hunt. Besides, by the time he had replied to Mr. Geeste's notice, Ms. Taura had already accepted an assignment from that blasted History Club. He would simply have to try to contact her tomorrow morning as soon as possible before she could accept another one.

Shaking his head, von Karma turned the door knob, expecting to have to jimmy it open, but instead discovering that the door wasn't locked after all.

[To here (with Court's permission to just go on ahead <3 ) ]

Like Dean was supposed to believe the whole beaming down crap was supposed to be all for their benefit. You wanted to help someone, you didn't kidnap them from their homes - or friggen time machines like the Doctor - and then offer them great food and a pat on the head like that made it a-okay.

Whatever it was, this wasn't from the goodness of the Head Doctor's heart.

Dean got dressed. He wasn't expecting to go anywhere tonight and after the insane run around from last night, it was almost a relief. Y'know, he was the last person he considered the stay-at-home kinda guy, but getting told that time travel was real and then dodging death rays for a night, and suddenly plain old research didn't sound that bad. Actually, the death rays hadn't been the worst of it. Dean knew that wasn't it, not really. It was the Doctor casually, without even trying, tossing everything on its head. Dean liked thinking of time normally, going in a line. Stuff was supposed to make sense. There wasn't supposed to be anything like real, honest-to-God evil R2D2s flying around being big dicks.

He'd no idea how much he'd taken stuff making sense for granted. After getting his ass kicked by the Doctor over all this time travel stuff, Dean was looking forward to a nice, relaxing discussing with Sam about hunts. At least that was business as usual.

Dean opened the drawer of the desk as he adjusted his jacket, waiting for Sam to swing by. There was the ring, just like the Head Doctor said. He picked it up, holding it up to the light. The silver band was not as delicate as it looked, the red gem glinting at him. Looked kinda fruity.

[Waiting for Sam in M2]

[from here]

It looked like the hallway opened up over here. Guess he couldn't expect to just run around and follow a linear corridor forever, but now he had to figure out which way he wanted to go. Normally, he'd just run down whatever hallway he happened to lay eye on first, but again, he was running a liiittle blind here.

He still wasn't seeing any people anywhere. Maybe everyone was hiding. If everyone knew the staff turned into monsters and tried to eat them, then it'd make sense that they'd try to keep low. Thankfully, he'd be taking care of whatever was wandering around this place, so they wouldn't have to stay hiding for long. Once that was done, they could blast their way out of there and he could find his way back to the others. Couldn't keep everyone waiting on account of him, right?

[running across Rita, The Trickster, and hopefully, a freaking flashlight]

[from here]

Nothing in here either. Snow was starting to wonder if maybe Badou had been exaggerating when he said all of the staff turn into monsters. The place'd probably be crawling with Cie'th if that were really the case, or maybe they were all off in another part of the building. At least there wasn't anyone getting attacked or anything yet. He'd just keep an ear out for any trouble.

In the meantime, Snow made his way down the hallway, running a hand along the wall as he tried to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Wonder how many people got thrown in here.

[to here]

As expected, after the allotted amount of time had passed, the nurses started to move through the waiting rooms to inform the visitors that it was time for them to leave, whereas in the Sun Room King Kong was turned off and the staff quickly sprung to action to put the equipment away.

Meanwhile, the sound of intercom turning on cut into the hustle and bustle, but it was Lydia's voice which came through. "Mr. Landel is taking a quick nap," was all she said by way of explanation, as she seemed to be beyond making lengthy excuses for the man. "Nurses, once the visitors have said their goodbyes, escort the patients back to their rooms for dinner. Tonight there is steak and fries on the menu, with a slice of cheesecake for dessert and vegetarian options if requested.

"Enjoy your food and have a good sleep." Keeping it short, the intercom then turned off.

Sakura had mentioned a library on the second floor, but there was one on the first floor, wasn't there? It was for the patients, sure, but that didn't mean there wouldn't be any useful books. Not that he knew for certain, since every time Hanatarou had been in there previously it hadn't been to pay a lot of attention to the reading material.

As he wandered into the shelves, however, he didn't find anything like medical texts or information on the medications that he'd found. All he found was-- what was this? The shinigami blinked at the cover of the book he'd pulled from the shelf, then shook his head and quickly shoved it back into place. Maybe something... somewhere else. He moved away from that shelf and over to another, frowning thoughtfully as he looked over the titles on the spines of the books, but didn't really find anything that looked useful.

[for paramedic!Peter]

Somehow, after their talk in the chapel, Elaine felt simultaneously more accepting of and more irritated by her future husband. On the one hand, seven years had clearly been good to him. He seemed more sincere and thoughtful than he had been before his disappearance, and he had a more mature (dare she say, handsome?) look to him. On the other hand, there were clearly some things that made even time throw up its hands in vain and say, "To hell with this!" Guybrush was still inexorably prone to disastrous accidents if the story about the Pox of LeChuck was anything to go by, and he was so obviously keeping something important from her that any passing dolt in the Institute would have been able to tell. In the end, that eternal underlying sweetness of his that won out, keeping her from punching him again, at least. That was only by a hairs width, though. Her snugglecakes was going to have to stay on his best behaviour if he knew what was good for him.

She left the Mighty Pirate™ alone for the time being when the announcement of the next shift went off. He would want some time to catch up with Morgan next, presumably. As much as the woman's attitude bothered her, she was a friend of Guybrush's, as she had claimed. Elaine could be strict, but she wasn't the kind of shrewish future wife/past fiancé who would keep her man from seeing his friends. Besides, she needed some more time to catch up on the goings-on of the Institute. Patients filled the building to the brim, now, it seemed; there would be a lot to investigate.

After a few quick trips back and forth to the bulletin and a few new leads to follow up on, the governor gave in to her nurse's persistent nagging and headed to the cafeteria for brunch. After the relatively light fare of the day before, Elaine took advantage of the Institute's admittedly scrumptious offerings and loaded up a full, balanced brunchfast of eggs, sausage links, waffles, and vegetable soup. As expected, the selection of drinks did not offer either root beer or grog. Grog she could live without, at least, she thought while making a face. Eugh. For now, she settled for a tall glass of water.

Elaine settled into a seat in the cafeteria and tucked into her meal. Her eyes didn't stay on her food, though, instead gazing around restlessly; she hadn't seen LeChuck so far this morning, and god forbid he wanted to invite himself to brunch with her if he chose now to show up. A certain horribly unpleasant dinner on Mêlée Island came to mind. She was prepared to either move at the first sign of the dread pirate or signal a random stranger to sit with her before he could.

[For Dean]

The last thing Claude heard was the Head Doctor's voice faintly filtering into the corridors of the ship before he found himself tucked beneath the sheets of his bed. It took a moment to register he'd even changed locations, but then he he abruptly sat up, fought the wave of nausea that washed over him, and felt the blankets beneath his fingers. The room. He was back in his room now. Under different circumstances, he might have wondered if last night had been some horrid dream, but the sharp pain in his eyes gave him a rude awakening. Hissing through his teeth, Claude buried the heels of his palms against his lids, only to discover two cold compresses had been taped over them.

"Good morning, Thomas," he heard the nurse's cheerful voice from beside his bed. Her sudden presence nearly made him jump out of his skin, and he sharply turned toward the source of the greeting, heart beating rapidly in his chest. "I'm sorry you're not feeling well today, but hopefully you can still enjoy some of the activities we have planned."

'Not feeling well' was a bit of an understatement. His hand hurt, his stomach kept turning with every movement, and it felt like someone had dumped a bunch of sand into both eye sockets. Right now, Claude just wanted the nurse to leave him be, but it didn't look like that was an option. Taking his uninjured hand, she gently tugged him out of bed, despite his protests that, no, really, he just wanted to stay in and sleep, please.

"I think getting out of your room a little bit will do you good," she told him. "I'm sorry your eyes are probably hurting, though. If you're ever feeling uncomfortable, don't hesitate to ask one of us for some pills."

"What about eye drops?" Claude asked tightly.

"Oh, no, too much of that could damage your eyes," she cautioned, and the sheer irony of the situation hit Claude so hard that it would have been laughable if he didn't already feel like crying right then. The nurse was as oblivious to it as always, however. "I know you usually go into the chapel during this shift. Would you like to go there again?" Claude didn't answered immediately, but that didn't deter the nurse. "Yes, I think that sounds best..."

In truth, he probably should have requested the sun room -- it was closer, for one, which meant the nurse didn't have to lead him as far of a distance. For another, lying down on one of their sofas sounded like a good option. But by the time Claude came to that conclusion, he was too stubborn to say anything, and he made his way up to the second floor, his footing slow, but steady.

The nurse deposited him on one of the central pews, next to the aisle, before leaving him to himself. Thankfully, it was still early in the shift. As he paused to listen, the room was mostly silent, save for the footsteps and hushed voices of the occasional staff member or patient who trickled in. But it was probably only a matter of time before others came. For some reason, the thought of being stuck in a crowded room made him tense, not necessarily because he thought anyone would pay him any mind, but because he simply didn't want it right then.

Somehow, the full implications of what happened last night hadn't sunken in: experiments, healing himself, the issue of whether he could actually go home after this, not being able to see, the ship, father. Instead, he just felt saturated with all of it, paralyzed by the horror of what they'd done to him, and the uncertainty of what it all meant beyond this moment. Claude took a shuddering breath, uninjured hand balling into a fist in his lap.

[For Guy.]

[from here]

And this... was different. The space was cramped, especially with more than one person. Senna pressed against the wall for space, the brief calm felt starting to drain away again. The offices had been claustrophobia-causing? The offices had been fucking airy, compared to this. This was.

Too much like a tomb. Like something. Closed in like this, all she could think about. Was that place. And being hooked into that thing. And just. In the back corner, as she was the first in, she wondered weakly, "Let's keep going, okay?"

[from here]

Another place like the rest. Were there many like this, something that they would keep going through? The small rooms were making her feel claustrophobic, walls and darkness pressing it. It wasn't a bright, white room, but still.

She looked back at Hanatarou, wondering if he would react the same to this one. "Do you want to keep going?"

[from here]

Hanatarou blinked rapidly in an attempt to make the dizziness go away faster, but was met with only minimal success. Was there a reason why the doors seemed to make people motion sick? Maybe it was a side effect of whatever had been done to make them into gates instead of actual normal doors, but really-- as long as it was back to normal soon, he wasn't really interested in thinking about it too hard. He'd leave that up to the 12th.

That wasn't really the important thing here right now, though. The healer glanced around what he could see of their surroundings, suddenly curious. It seemed pretty empty in here, really, with the table and bare walls and floor and-- ah!

"Tsukasa-san, over here," he said, gesturing for the other healer to direct his light in the direction of the cabinet as he headed over there himself, unfastening the strap of his healer's bag on the way. If there was something worth taking in there, he had to have somewhere to put it, and he'd stuffed a pillowcase in with his other supplies. "This must be where they keep supplies."

[ from here ]

"The pharmacy should be right here," Naminé announced, grasping at the door knob once she and Riku reached their destination. The night had been uneventful, and she hoped it would stay that way, so that was why Naminé made sure that she opened the door slowly to make sure there wasn't anything else inside. Nothing happened, so she stepped inside.

And then something happened. The Nobody blinked, and blinked again in disbelief. This wasn't... Instead of shelves and cabinets filled with pills and other things, she found herself in what looked like a shop of some sort. Actually, this was a shop of some sort. Naminé hadn't been in this particular one, but she recognized the name that was plastered all over the store. But... that was impossible!

"How...?" Naminé was sure that this had to be impossible. Not only was this the wrong room, but they weren't even in the Institute anymore! How was this possible?! She turned around, searching for Riku. Had she arrived here alone? Was she the only one who saw this?

[From here]

From Doyleton back to their prison; though Homura didn't recognize the room itself, the set up marked it as an office. Though Homura himself hadn't been subjected to the daytime doctors that he could recall, it was possible that Hayashi or Teresa had. If so, they might recognize the room, and find something personally beneficial there. The thought of the doctors and of the lives they attempted to push on the patients raised another question, however. Well aware of what the next day held, Homura turned to the two women. Taking care to keep how deeply he'd been affected by the event from his voice, he still spoke with concern. "Have either of you had a visitor before?"

Sometimes Marc really did have to wonder why he'd signed up for this.

The moment he'd heard those buses leave Doyleton, he'd been on the move. The wrapping that kid had given his ankle did him a lot of good, actually, but stumbling through the woods in the rain when he was still wounded? Not his idea of fun. Really, the best thing about this job, if he could even call it that, was the payoff. The water hadn't been all that bad for his cuts, at the very least. Cleaning them out was probably for the best. He was really just thankful that it hadn't been acid rain or something. He wouldn't have put it past Landel.

So there had been a lot of falling in the mud and getting embarrassingly frustrated as he ran around in the woods and dodged monsters, but by some stroke of luck, he'd found the place he'd been looking for.

He hadn't been able to tell the patients he'd seen that day about where it was, but he'd heard rumors of this bomb shelter from some of his cohorts. That he'd actually found it was nothing short of a miracle, though.

The place was a pain to get into and it reeked, but Marc had been glad for anything that wasn't out in the rain. More than that, this place had everything he was looking for. The radio equipment, a souped-up computer terminal, the works. His first plan of action had been to make a broadcast, but when he booted up the computer and read the code there, he realized just how much Landel had been misbehaving.

Portals? Really? "If that's how Landel wanted to play, then he could definitely pitch in. Marc owed a lot to Jack for making all of this equipment, though. It took some finagling with the code, but he was able to hack in and make this very bomb shelter a portal of its own. He was pretty sure it would work, anyway. All he could do was sit back and wait for some patients to come stumbling in.

Sitting at the half-broken desk, soaked to the bone and covered in mud, he knew he didn't cut the most impressive picture. Hopefully whoever showed up wouldn't be the judgmental type.

[from here]

Agatha wasn't really sure what she'd been expecting. Either something would try to defend the room, and she was as ready for that as she could be; or it wouldn't, and she could move on to those adjoining rooms she'd spotted through the doorframe. But she'd certainly expected there to be adjoining rooms, what with having seen them already. In fact, she'd expected it to have anything at all in common with what she'd seen, rather than being a rather boringly tidy little office.

It barely contained anything- desk, chairs, couch, tiny and severely plain machine with a flask- but somehow, it was enough to bring unease to the forefront, despite Agatha's fury. Something was horribly... was even more horribly wrong than she'd thought.