During lunch, some of the staff of Lil' Tykes Toys had taken it upon themselves to decorate the store with an assortment of balloons. The variety of colors would have been enough to remind most people of bubblegum drops.

On top of that, a new face -- perhaps someone temporarily hired for the event -- sat behind a small table near the cash register. The festive balloons surrounding her seemed to match her cheerful disposition, as she wasn't shy about beckoning both children and adults over so they could receive their free gift.

The ad on the town bulletin wasn't lying, but what were they handing out?

((NOTE: Please read the lounge post for more details.))

After that miserable breakfast, Kratos was truly ready to go hide himself away in some dark corner of a room and refuse to speak to anyone for the rest of the day. It was utterly pathetic that he was actually giving that kind of behavior serious thought, but somehow, in the wake of Sora's death, everything, from company to even eating, seemed too loud or too exhaustive; his energy seemed to slip away the instant he gained it.

Ironically, this behavior was not previously unknown to him; it was just that the last time he'd fallen into this kind of slump, his circumstances were such that engaging in extreme antisocial behavior and refusing to eat did not carry severe consequences like they--that was also pathetic, that he'd just entertained the idea that the days following Anna's death could have been more bearable than now. Could he possibly frustrate himself even more? The paradoxical part was that he enjoyed doing it in a strange, perverse way.

He wrote out a few listless, largely formulaic responses over the board to some notes he'd pinned up right before breakfast, and then wandered over to a nearby couch, where he sat down, stared at the coffee table for a moment, and then slumped back against the couch, one hand draped across his eyes, with a sigh. For a few seconds, he stayed that way, letting the wave of emotion wash over him--it was simply too much; he had reached the point where he was willing to give up and acknowledge that--and then, as if a switch had been flicked, Kratos straightened up, everything once again carefully masked. He exhaled, slow and steady, and looked down just in time to see a cat pass by, meowing for his attention.

He wasn't particularly fond of animals, as he'd once told Lloyd, but right now, all he wanted was something to distract him, and a cat was much preferred to a person; after all, the cat didn't talk, nor did it require him to talk. Kratos reached down to scratch it between the ears and then paused as it leaped onto the couch to curl up next to him. It was a stretch to think that he might be able to spend an entire shift petting a cat (also pathetic, but in a different way), but he would do it for however long it held his attention, or vice versa.

[Flora!]

[M7]

Dinner went by too fast, and as the intercom announcement came on and the change to night officially started, Sora pushed himself to the edge of bed, caught in the tight hold of dread. He didn't want it to become night. He didn't want to change again. He'd gone to a lot of effort to make sure that he didn't end up repeating the events of last night, but something could always go wrong.

Landel cut to the chase pretty fast this time around, and no other clues were given out. Did that mean that the rebel group hadn't been able to get through, or had they just run out of clues to give them? Did that mean they were on their own? Sora let out a breath and tried to manage the panic that was bubbling up in his chest.

Link was still here. Sora had hoped that his roommate would make a move to leave the second that night came, but it didn't look like that was the case. Of course not. If Sora was honest with himself, he'd known from the start that someone like Link wasn't going to leave him alone here.

Sora forced out a shaky sigh. He didn't feel anything yet, but he knew that it wouldn't be long before the darkness started to take over.

"I know you're worried," he said to Link, "but it's fine. My other friend should be here soon, so..." He wanted as few people as possible around when the change went through. Hopefully Tsurugi would get here soon, and then Link could leave.

[From here]

Link rounded the corner without slowing down to even look over his shoulder. He wanted to get to the medical wing first and get out of there before there was any potential chaos. It was a good thing Sora had shown him the way last night.

The Hylian rounded the corner into the larger hallways.

[To here]

As soon as the intercom was through, Link was off at a sprint. He carried the pillow case,his flashlight, and the knife from the previous evening.

There were now two tasks to be accomplished: Supplies for Sora, and another clue in the X-Ray Room. Two birds with one stone in the medical wing. There wasn't a moment to lose.

Sora could already be gone by the time he returned.

[To here]

As some of the clouds from earlier began to clear, the intercom jingle sounded over the intercom once again.

"Hello, patients!" came the Head Doctor's cheery voice. "I hope you're all feeling fresh and clean this evening! To top it all off, we've prepared a scrumptious herb chicken dinner for you to eat before bed. Of course, we have vegetarian options available, so please don't hesitate to ask the nurse if you're interested in that.

Also, since we have the pleasure of welcoming a few new patients into our family, some of you will be receiving new roommates. Let's do our best to give them a nice, big Landel's Institute welcome, shall we?"

The Head Doctor gave a friendly chuckle. "Well, anyway, enjoy your dinner!"

With that, the intercom shut off.

[Note: All dinner threads are posted in response to this entry. Be sure to check the Roommate Assignments if you're not sure what room/roommate your character has! Thanks.]

While it wasn't uncommon for patients to black out at the end of Nightshift, a select few would have a wrench thrown into their normal routine. Rather than waking up bright and early in their typical bed, they would find themselves propped up in a comfortable leather chair.

The room itself looked like an office straight from the 1950s – almost cozy, in fact. None of them would recognize the oak table in the middle of the room, or the two bookcases, which were neatly arranged with all kinds of texts and books. Between those bookcases, though, was a picture of the Institute, framed with wood that perfectly matched the rest of the room's décor.

The knickknacks scattered across the bookcases -- staff photographs, a golfing figure made of business cards, and some prestigious-looking awards – didn't seem out of place for a regular office, either. The desk itself was the centerpiece, and was obviously well-used. That wasn't to say it was messy, exactly, but the inbox and outbox resting on top of the glass-paned surface were stuffed with a variety of paperwork and envelopes. Though most of the room looked old-fashioned, the keyboard and two flat screen monitors contrasted with the rest of the office.

These things would probably escape the notice of most of the people visiting this evening, though. After all, anyone who woke up in this office would be treated to the sight of a man peering through his oval-rimmed glasses as he leafed through some folders. Although his face was distinct enough for anyone who'd had the opportunity to see the Head Doctor in person, the small microphone sitting just inches away from him said volumes about who he was.

As soon as the patient awoke, the man looked up, offering an unexpectedly amicable smile. After closing the folder, he set it down next to the outbox and leaned back in his seat.

“Ah, good evening,” he greeted as he pulled the glasses from his nose. “I've been expecting you. You've been brought here because I thought you might be interested in making a deal, so let's discuss things like gentlemen, shall we?” Nodding toward the newcomer, he chuckled. “Take a moment to regain your bearings if you need it. I realize this must be a bit disorienting.”

When the cheery jingle sounded over the speakers, the Head Doctor could be heard humming a song that suspiciously sounded like pieces of "Superstar" from today's movie. Then, as if realizing people were listening, he abruptly cleared his throat.

"Good evening, patients!" he greeted after a quick recovery. "I do hope everyone had a pleasant day. And what better way to end things than with a scrumptious steak dinner? We'll be including fries on the side, as well as offering our usual assortment of water, milk, and juices. Of course, we also carry vegetarian options for those of you who don't eat meat. Enjoy!"

The intercom turned off, leaving the nurses to escort patients to their rooms.

((Please make all dinner threads under this post with your character's room number in the subject line. For updated roommate assignments, refer to the latest Lounge Post. Thanks!))

With how he was feeling between the wound on his shoulder and the overall body aches the illness was plaguing him with, Castiel hadn't minded the opportunity to eat on his own. For once, no other patients came over to speak with him, possibly because the pain he was in was noticeable somehow. Either way, he'd managed to eat enough to quell the twisting in his stomach and had then, against all attempts, fallen asleep.

It was the first time such a thing had happened when it hadn't been forced on him, and it was only when a nurse shook his shoulder that he woke up, half in a daze, and realized what had happened. While it was disturbing to realize to what extent his body was shutting down on him, the nap had at least eased up some of the pain that he was in.

With the second shift having passed far quicker than expected due to that unexpected doze, Castiel now had to decide where he wished to go next. It seemed that he wasn't due to see a doctor or a "visitor" at this point, but when Castiel stepped into the Sun Room he was told that they would be playing a film called "Jesus Christ Superstar."

In other words, remaining in that room wasn't an option.

As usual, his first choice in such a situation was to go to the library, and so that was where he ended up. The silence was even more of a relief than usual, due to the state he was in, and he quickly found himself a book to read -- Dracula -- and took a seat.

[For Izaya.]

With the blond's outburst disturbing not only the peace and quite of the trip back, but the trip itself by way of a detour into a damn tree, Kurogane's patience had worn thin by well before the sun had begun to set. No amount of alcohol would have helped temper his mood either. Stuck on the side of the road with the night drawing ever closer... it was almost as though Landel had intended for something like this. That man knew what happened were they not back in the building by nightfall, and a good number of them knew the same.

Probably not the blond idiot.

Though his patience was all but gone, his attention to the situation was heightened with the threat of darkness closing in. Each passing moment put them closer to another attack like before, and if there was where the night was to begin, he wasn't going to be trapped in any vehicle, moving or otherwise. That decision kept him on edge, watching between the window and the bus's back door beside him and waiting with the only remaining patience he had to spare.

"Be ready," was all he'd said to the girl beside him, knowing or at least hoping that she understood what was soon to come. He wasn't sure if she'd been there the time before, but as a ninja she should have known enough to expect anything with the tension aboard.

The moment he caught the sun's final dip beyond the horizon, he was out of his back seat and unhinging the emergency hatch for a quick exit to the ground, expecting that Tsubaki would be close behind. "Come on!" he barked back before starting around the bus at a quick pace. The town was long gone, but the chance stood that the Institute would be not too far ahead of them.

By this point, it was essentially guaranteed Snow would not be eating anything else for the remainder of the day. For someone who was so damn nauseous he felt like he should be sitting down somewhere, he sure had eaten a lot today. But if he was gonna barf, at least he'd actually gotten to eat something he liked beforehand. So it was kind of worth it.

No it wasn't.

Ugh, okay yeah. Maybe he needed to go back to sitting down somewhere. But he wasn't going to turn around and head back into the, um, Tasty Burger place. Somehow, he didn't think smelling all that stuff was going to help him feel any better. Strangely enough, the cold kind of helped a little bit. He still wasn't used to it, and he knew his fingers and face and ears were all going to start going numb again if he stayed hanging around out here for too long, especially with the wind whipping him like this, but it kind of helped settle him. Or something.

Actually, he couldn't explain why it made him feel less sick. And he wasn't about to question it. Instead, he started walking away from the food place, wandering down the street at a slow, careful pace as he took deep breaths of chilly air. In. Out.

[Izayaaa]

Once the buses had rolled to a stop and the engines cut, Kotetsu waited impatiently with a sore neck for his turn to get off this clunker. He stood up from his row, stretching back and forth with a loud, tired heave. He didn't remember falling asleep and he felt a little embarrassed since he was the one who had volunteered to watch the scenery.

Ah well, his partner probably would have had to help him anyway. His attention span would make a gnat laugh. Once the row in front of them stood up to leave, Kotetsu shimmied out of his seat and into the main aisle ahead of Barnaby. The cold, crisp air of an early morning hit him in the face as he staggered down the bus stairs, but he didn't get any further than that.

"Kotetsu T. Kaburagi!" A sharp female voice cut through the peaceful murmurings of the passing patients. He turned around to see an irate looking nurse staring him down by the driver's seat. "You come back on this bus and pick up your trash! We are not your mothers, picking up after your messes!"

For once, Kotetsu had nothing to say, constructive or otherwise. Maybe it was the early morning or the fact he had just waken up, but that woman completely shook him off his guard. Slack-jawed and more than a little put out for being called out like a kid, the former Hero stomped back onto the bus with a terribly immature pout frozen on his dark face. After about ten rows, Kotetsu found his discarded muffin wrapper tossed on the floor and picked it back up with a quick and spiteful swipe before coming back to the screeching harpy.

"Thank you, Kotetsu. Hoenstly... How old are you? You should be setting a better example for the other patients."

Kotetsu grumbled something under his breath before finally getting off the bus and meeting up with his partner that had that look on his face. Sighing, he waited for the inevitable lecture as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and kept walking.

[Bunny and then Niikura~!]

Searching for files really wasn't the most exciting way to spend a night, but at least he had Sangamon had managed something and had also somehow avoided getting into any real trouble. While the lack of some sort of conflict meant that it had almost felt boring in comparison, Harvey was pretty sure he could go without seeing one of those rotted faces for the rest of his life.

Yeah, the memory of one of those dogs tearing through Zex's throat hadn't quite left his mind yet. It probably wasn't going to anytime soon, either.

It was clear that Landel was trying to stir up shit among the patients, though, with how he was going on about this so-called sickness. It was obvious from the start that this was something that had been administered to certain patients, but that didn't mean it wouldn't spread. But Harvey's guess was that it wouldn't. This whole charade had clearly been designed to force a wedge between the patients, and he was pretty sure it was going to work.

Other than the fact that he'd slept all day yesterday, though, Harvey felt fine. As fine as someone with half his face burned off could feel, anyway. But the point was that he felt normal for him, which probably meant he'd been lucky enough to steer clear of this weird illness. The coin had apparently landed on the clean side this time.

Sleeping a whole day away meant that it was already time to head into Doyleton yet again. Harvey couldn't say he was that excited. The town hadn't given him much to do, and while a change of scenery was probably good for his mental health, the way the townspeople treated them more or less canceled that out. Still, there was nothing for it, so he didn't put up a fuss as he changed into his clothes for the day. This time he had a pair of black pants, a shirt that was a little too close to purple for his liking, and a gray-colored zip-up windbreaker to wear over it.

As usual, there was the sack lunch and coupons to collect (did they really have to be treated like grade-schoolers?), but it looked like the allowance was going to be a staple from now on. Harvey stepped up onto one of the buses with a sigh, but it looked like he'd picked the one that was emptiest (so far, anyway). Focusing on that silver lining, he went to sit down in the back and started to peel open the brown bag with his breakfast in it.

[For Shiina!]

Another day, another shot of whiskey snuck in before work.

Venkman slid the small flask back into his desk drawer, knowing that the nurse would be by any minute now to bring by this morning's victim patient. Maybe when she came back for the kid later, he would actually get her number this time. A tush to rival Dana's, seriously. It was ironic that she always seemed to haul ass away from his office. Always just when he wanted to talk to her for more than a few seconds, too, off to whatever she had to do next.

"Man, who is that dedicated to their work?" he wondered aloud, folding his hands behind his head and kicking up his feet on top of his desk.

[From here]

The office looked the same as it had when Izaya had first seen it a week ago—though somehow, it seemed more eerie in the dark.

There wasn't much of interest to him in the office other than Venkman's files, and all of those would either be filed away on shelves or in (or on) the desk. Even so, he didn't make his way towards either right away, taking a moment to inspect the office as a whole first... and also to see what Castiel would be most interested in.

[From here.]

Mostly for show, Orihara said. While Castiel couldn't argue with that claim, he had to admit it wasn't something he understood. "What are they trying to prove, then?" He assumed that Orihara had some sort of working theory, and while it might not be correct, at least hearing it out wouldn't do much harm. This wasn't an area Castiel knew much about, so he wasn't going to rely on his own assumptions or guesses.

As they moved down the hall and were flanked by the doors leading into what had to be a multitude of different offices, Castiel couldn't help but notice how Orihara gestured to the exact one he was interested in. That might be a coincidence -- Orihara followed up his statement by saying he didn't have a preference for which one they entered -- but Castiel doubted it. It made sense to want to search the office of the doctor he'd actually gone to see.

At this point, though, Castiel was willing to take advantage of Orihara's noncommittal answer. "This one," he said, moving to stand in front of Dr. Venkman's office.

He grabbed for the knob and was not surprised by the resistance that it gave. While his shoulders slumped just slightly in response, he flipped his blade around in his hand so that the hilt was facing forward. Perhaps he could bludgeon the lock into submission.

[from here]

"It really isn't far to the hallway upstairs."

Lust could see the door to the stairwell now, at the edge of the light from their torch. She looked to Scar again.

"What do you think we'll find?" she asked, hoping to steer the conversation to something that wouldn't result in them ramming heads like mountain sheep. And she was somewhat concerned over what was in this room. Things that were supposed to be theirs, but...what did that mean?

And how much would it really tell them?

[from here]

"I know you didn't believe at least half of what I told you at breakfast."

And she supposed that was being a bit generous. But why should he have believed her? She really couldn't blame him. This place was full of half-truths and illusions as it was.

"But I hope you at least verified what I told you. I have no reason to lie to you, Scar. What purpose would lying to you about this place possibly serve me?"

If nothing else, she figured an appeal to logic might have more impact on him. She really didn't have any reason to lie to him. Not about the Institute. And for goodness sake, it wasn't as though she could carry on a lie. All he needed do was ask someone else!

[from here]

The main hall was dead quiet as Soma rounded the corner. The last few nights, this place had been bustling with fellow patients; the sudden calm was very nearly unnerving.

Still, she tried to put it out of her mind. Marie didn't sense anything out of the ordinary--yet.

[to here]

Daemon was a few minutes later slipping out of his room, having waited around to do something once he was alone. Slipping the folded page torn from his journal into one of his pockets, he retrieved the makeshift weapons from the night before and set out, heading up the long hall to meet Renji at the other end.

[Going to here.]