Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute.

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes, not sitting up just yet. He could tell already that his torso had been heavily bandaged, even more so than it had been the night before. The cuts on his arms were covered with fresh bandages, and the one on his cheek seemed to no longer be there at all.

Endrance had been expecting to wake up in a lot of pain, but even that seemed numbed. "They must have given me something," he murmured quietly, as he slowly sat up.

At that moment, his nurse came to get him, pushing a wheelchair along with her. "Peyton, dear, good morning. I've come to take you to breakfast, so..." He shook his head. "I'm fine. There's no need for that...I can walk perfectly well."

She sighed. Well, if he insisted, she wasn't going to stop him. She motioned for an orderly to take the chair away, and walked him to the cafeteria. Once they had gotten there, she pointed him toward a seat, then set a full tray of pancakes covered with syrup, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice in front of him. "Now eat all of that, Peyton, or else you won't be strong enough to keep walking like that."

He glared at her back as she walked away, then stopped suddenly. There was that faint pulse he'd felt the night before...it was exactly the same.

And so he completely ignored his food in favor of staring at the cafeteria doors, looking at every patient that came in.

[thread will be closed to Haseo. ♥]

Raine stopped just outside the Sun Room, which was only a little lighter than the rest of the Institute now because of the skylight; the moon was apparently out. She wondered briefly what the moon looked like, here, but pushed that thought aside. She didn't hear anything from inside...

Standing just outside the doorway, so anyone inside the room wouldn't be able to see her, she looked back at her companions. "It sounds empty. Let's go in." She'd only gotten a few looks at the room during the day, but she was fairly certain that once inside, they should take a left to get into the Arts & Crafts room; it still sounded like a poor place to find weapons, but it was worth taking the chance. She had yet to meet a god at full power, but the myths she knew were informative enough. If they could just retrieve what Amaterasu needed to perhaps get her to a stronger state...

Raine clicked her flashlight on and jumped into the Sun Room's entrance, flicking the beam of light around to hopefully reveal any monsters hiding in the shadows. She held Reinforce's discarded crutch, her only real weapon, at the ready just in case; she wasn't letting herself be caught off-guard just yet.

[from here]

Well, this was a fine situation Penelo was in. Didn't someone tell her on the bulletin board that one shouldn't go out alone? And yet here she was, with nothing but her light and a sketchy memory to go by. The halls looked all the same to her, but she had a hunch that she was going the right way. Well, Penelo didn't intend to stay alone for long. Larsa and Gabranth would meet up with her soon enough. Hopefully they had room numbers, because she didn't want to do this again.

It was just so... quiet and still at night. Even at the oldest, most ancient places, such as Giruvegan, Penelo still had her friends with her. And the ruins were stirring with life. Hostile life, but life nonetheless. Here, there was nothing but the darkness and silence. It was unnerving.

But she didn't have time to dwadle. For all she knew, Larsa and Gabranth were waiting for her already. Or something like that. Once they all met up, it would be easier to move around, she imagined.

And so, Penelo hurried on, encouraged by the slightly familiar sights. To the Sun Room, then. She had a plan! ... it just didn't seem so good now that she thought about it.

As the intercom switched on, the shuffling of papers was the first thing that could be heard rather than the voice of the Head Doctor. It seemed he had been going through a lot of them today, a fact which could perhaps be attributed to the fact that so many new patients had flooded the halls of Landel's on this particular afternoon.

Of course, the day was almost over, which accounted for the slight tinge of fatigue that could be heard in the Head Doctor's voice as he finally pulled the microphone towards him.

"Ah, yes, and it seems we have arrived at our final junction of the day!" He said, sounding slightly preoccupied as he looked for what he needed in his files. "I am pleased to announce something that many of you might have already guessed: In order to promote good behavior and friendly interaction among our patients, we have set as many individuals as possible up with roommates! Yes, yes, we all hope that you get along with your new friends, and upon the shoulders of patients who have new patients as their roommates, we put the responsibility of tutoring our newcomers about their current way of life. Speaking of which, I have a list of new introducteés this evening: John Bull, Arthur Hurley, Arthur Dent, Cole Li, Philip Hunt, Henry Kobayashi, Elena Taylor, David Barrows, Tobias Prince, Keanu Reeves, Brian Jones, Regina Dawson, and Matt Sherrow."

Just as the Head Doctor seemed ready to wrap up his short announcement, he seemed to remember one more thing.

"Ah, yes, and how could I forget dinner? Tonight, you'll be served trout fillets fried in a garlic-butter sauce, complete with sides of peas, cooked carrots, macaroni & cheese, and a baked potato. To drink, we will be serving a choice of water, milk, or apple juice, and for dessert, each patient will have a slice of chocolate cake all to themselves! Yes, a wonderful end to a wonderful day, don't you think?"

He paused for a final time.

"I believe that is all for today! I do hope you enjoy our dinners and that you look forward to our next Sunday excursion. After all, something special might again be in store. Ta-taaa!"

The intercom clicked off.

Saïx had been known to keep to himself, limiting his interaction with even his own peers in the Organization to the Superior as much as possible. Of course, he gladly took up the task of chasing a few, random traitors here and there, but solitude and the company of those whom could be considered competent was something Number VII almost took pleasure in, though of course an onlooker would hardly be able to tell just by observing reaction alone. Rare was the day the blue-haired berserker had a facial expression, and those days tended to be unpleasant for those who endured them.

As such, Saïx was glad to have some freedom and assumed that the chance to partake in more food or outdoor activity would at least limit the number of patients interested in occupying the library. Blissfully alone and able to lose himself in thoughts or some vain attempt to study the culture embraced by Landels, he selected a random title from the bookshelf without so much as caring to commit it to memory and sat down in a chair, his aura clearly indicating that he was not seeking company, not even from those he happened to be acquainted with.

As always, Tamaki woke up in his bed. He didn't know how he got there, but he woke up still in the clutches of fear he last remembered from the night. The fight in the hallway, Ed and Adel, the thing...

He was out of bed immediately, determined to make sure his friends were alright. He listened to the man on the intercom, not liking the idea of some big surprise. He didn't imagine any surprises could be good. And he hoped his friends felt the same way...

When his nurse came to get him, he chose the Sun Room instead of the chapel. He wanted no part of whatever was going to happen. He only hoped that Ed and Adel had the same idea....

They probably didn't. Agitated and worried, Tamaki paced along the window, hands behind his back, and waited.

Naminé realized all too late when she returned to her room that she had neglected to ask where Kairi's room was. There was a good chance that she was close by, but at the same time... there was a chance she was all the way in the very last halls. Or maybe she had already left!

Naminé didn't bother eating her dinner, leaving it on the desk with a note indicating it was alright if some scavengers wanted to eat it, and then she went out into the hallway, armed only with her flashlights and a few pens.

There was no way she could fight like River, but Naminé had to have something.

She had half a mind to call out Kairi's name softly as she wandered the halls, but remembered what happened last time. She had attracted some... nasty visitors to say the least. The woman with the poker. Naminé had never seen her again, so it seemed safe to assume that one really could die at Landels.

Shuddering at that sobering thought, Naminé hurried along a little quicker than she intended.

[coming from here]

Claire adjusted the radio so it now dangled from her wrist on the small string. She was still trying to work out everything the man on the other end had said. He obviously didn't want to be found, for whatever reason, but he was helping them? Did he really have a rivalry with the Intercom guy, or was this all a hoax?

She had no idea. Either way, if this radio was going to spit out anything useful, she might as well take advantage of it. Not like she had any big leads about this place anyway.

Claire tensed as she left the (relative) safety of the female block, now standing in a dark hallway. By herself.

She started walking down towards her destination, hoping she'd run into RC or Wesker soon.

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.

Renji wasn't certain how he'd gotten from the room with Sora and Nowe back to his bed. He scrambled up and quickly checked; everything that he'd tucked into his clothes was still there, including the trauma shears and the start of the map. He quickly hid those things wherever they would fit - and not be too obvious. Hopefully Nowe and Sora had been safely returned to their rooms as well.

He didn't like it. He really didn't enjoy feeling even more like a passenger in his own life.

The head doctor, cheery on the intercom, was seriously getting on his nerves. Then the nurse showed up to collect him. She was annoying. He was quiet, and shuffled obediently after her, all the while contemplating just how good it would feel to punch any of the nurses, but this one in particular, in the back of the head.

Again, no rice. He got himself eggs, sausage, and toast, as well as a glass of juice. He sat down somewhere he'd have a good view of the door and started picking at his food.

This was totally bogus.

What right did any of these people have to just cart her away from her conversation with a cute guy in stick her back in her room? Geez. This place was really starting to get under her skin. Stupid nurses. Stupid doctors.

Frustrated, Yuffie wolfed down her food as soon as it'd been brought to her, lazily tossing the tray on the floor once she was done. So what if she made a mess? All the more reason to let her out. And out was where she was heading tonight, one way or another.

But first... She was going to leave a little something to remember her by... Grabbing the sheet off her bed, Yuffie gnawed at the edge of it until she'd made a small tear, then proceeded to rip the sheet down the edge, making a long strip. Grinning at her genius, she took up the strip, wrapping it across her forehead and tying it tight in the back.

"Ok, you crackpots. It's ninja time." Still grinning, Yuffie pulled the pillow case off her pillow and began ransacking the room once more, filling the pillow case with whatever she could find useful around the room. The radio, the journal, the pens--though some of those she stuck in the back of her headband for easy access. Still, she was just as disappointed last night in the lack of interesting things in the room.

"Time to find something a little more interesting, then..." she muttered, hurrying out into the hallway. No was out yet, but she didn't care much. She didn't feel like bothering with anyone else tonight. Especially if she didn't know them. So, she quickly hurried on.

[Ninja-ing over to here.]

There was a grand choice of one destination on the Intercom message that made him even vaguely consider going there. Frankly, there was only so many interesting things you could do with confectionery, and the last thing he could handle right now was having to watch some annoying kid build a fully-functional gingerbread cottage with whipped-cream chimney smoke and a moving waterwheel constructed entirely out of chocolate. Artistic pursuits had never been his first choice - even as a kid he'd been drained to draw like a draughtsman, rather than cute little pictures of his family and house. He'd copied out his first gun blueprint at ten years old. Somehow, though, he doubted that iced gems had a good firing velocity.

Lying down on a full-length seat (comfortable, but rather sticky), he decided to catch up on a little sleep, or at least rest a while. Any other time, he would have gone off to explore, but he couldn't do a lot with this nurse hovering around him like a plague.

"Would you like me to bring you a book from the library?" she asked, politely. He nodded assent and answered a short list of questions about his literary tastes. At least something to read might shut off his emotions somewhat until he could think of a plan.

He lolled back his head, staring at the ceiling. He couldn't see any surveillance cameras in here, but imagined they were probably hidden somewhere. It didn't seem right to have a facility this big without any CCTV to speak of. Actually, now he thought about it, the security in this place was a joke. Apart from a few huge male nurses wrestling more resistant patients, he hadn't seen anything to suggest force was being used here. And he managed to spend the better part of the day completely out of reach of his nurse. It was a little too suspicious, he realised. She was probably aiming for him to give her the slip. But why?

His nurse returned with the book. He glanced at the cover. Sherlock Holmes. Well, it could have been a lot worse. He'd never found Holmes nor Watson particularly realistic characters, but it was better than a good deal of what he suspected he would find in that library.

Letting his body relax, he opened the book and began to read.

Lunch had been mediocre. Wilson had gone looking for a suitable fast food place (and considering he wasn't exactly a fan of that much grease, it took a lot of driving before he found a place he could actually stomach), though by the time he got it back to the office, the food was cold and more unappetizing than it had been in the first place.

Maybe it would have been a better idea to just go to the cafeteria...

He'd eaten, though, knowing that he needed to work on a full stomach. Round one had been tiring enough. He was hoping round two wasn't any worse. Though looking at some of the files, he could already pinpoint a few problem patients.

He had to have an open mind about it, though. Especially with the knowledge of what some of his earlier patients had told him about.

[ ooc: For Carnage, Ginji, Hughes, Kiden, Naminé, Obi-Wan, Renji, and Saïx. ]

While Arts and Crafts wasn't all that bad, Gray Fox was greatly relieved when an intercom announced Lunch. He had almost reached the point where he was going to start eating more of the building materials.

Hamburgers. Not his first choice but he was by no means about to complain. Keeping his eyes on the so-far empty room, Fox made his way over to start the line and get his burger. Haphazardly picking out what he wanted to be on it. He wasn't a very picky eater, and, truthfully, he didn't think it was possible for a FOXHOUND agent to be a picky eater, at least, not after survival training.

The food actually did smell very good, despite coming from a cafeteria, and a hospital cafeteria at that. He took a seat that was near one of the walls and very quickly started in on his burger.

It had been difficult to figure out how many patients there were, since more had continually been brought into the arts and crafts room from somewhere else, but now, he had the feeling he'd be able to see just how large the patient population was.

And that man who looked like Snake would be here as well, hopefully.

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.

Scar felt as if he'd passed out as soon as he'd gotten to his bed due to the admittedly strong fatigue and pain that having a badly injured arm tended to cause a person to feel, even one as conditioned and battle-worn as the stern-faced Ishbalan. He woke up feeling rested but regretful, and his fear that he'd wasted a Nightshift ripe with the possibility of discovered items and means of escape was confirmed as the intercom's metallic voice came forth and a bright-faced nurse opened the door and beckoned him towards the burly orderlies who were supposed to take him to breakfast.

The Ishbalan frowned a deep, dark frown. He wasn't quite sure if he could count the shameful number of days that he'd spent like an animal in a cage, and at this point, he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

He'd been tired lately, after all; perhaps some of the sentiment of hopelessness that certain other patients tended to exude was contagious for those who had seen more than their fair share of life and its losses. But no; simply wading in self-pity was no way to get things done; to use one's own self-loathing and use it as a motivation in the struggle for redemption--that was the salvation that Scar truly sought. Last night had fallen victim to physical exhaustion, but tonight he would increase his efforts tenfold to make up for the lapse into lethargy.

First, however--pancakes.

The days of the breadbasket seemed to be long gone as Scar entered the near-empty cafeteria with some feeling of foreboding that he was the first one to get his meal and sit down. He'd gotten pancakes and sausage, and more than a few fruits, not for the fact that he especially trusted the food here but for the fact that fresh goods had been few and far in between upon the harsh lands of Ishbal.

Scar's red eyes darted from the nearest nurse to the main entrance, and with hunger and thirst that no logic could quench, began starting in on the food.

"Heh," the voice of the Head Doctor came through the static with a slight bite to it. "No point in being cryptic now. Night's almost over, after all! And you all should be thankful for that, believe you me..."

The doctor coughed, then cleared his throat as the rustling of papers could be heard.

"Allen Carter, Sarah Johnsen, Gina Torres, Raymond Turner, and Max Watson are all new fowl to be slain, new birds to be roasted. Heh. Say grace for them."

The intercom clicked off again.