[from here]

The homunculus covered the ground to the main women's hall quickly, her flashlight in her hand but currently off. She could see well enough in the dark, and she had little desire to get caught in some conversation as she had had happen all too often in the dorm halls.

She checked the mental map she'd memorized - roughly - of the place. The Greenhouse was on the far side of the building...what would be the quickest route? God, she wished she knew which doors were accessible and which weren't.

Ah well. It was a mostly straight trip across the Institute....

[to here]

This time, there was no hesitating. There was no contemplating or dithering or taking anyone's feelings into consideration. Lust was simply going to take matters into her own hands. Really, hadn't she always known that was the truth of things? Though it was said so blithely and often as a jest, 'if you want something done, do it yourself' proved time and time again to be an aptly uttered statement.

Anyway, she hardly needed a chaperone. She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, even in her weakened state. Not to mention that she would hardly be the only prisoner seeking the cure. Most likely she'd find someone else, on their own and with the same goal.

Flashlight in hand and dressed in her former clothing, Lust ventured out into the hallway with a brisk and determined air. She had a mission tonight, and heaven help any fool who got in her way.

[to here]

With his task successfully accomplished in the greenhouse, Guy was feeling even better as the end of the day rolled around. He still had a few things that he wanted to do, though, and so before he headed into the Music Room he made sure to leave a note on the bulletin board for Claude. He realized that he'd slacked off on making Abyssman posts lately, but seeing how only three of them were left at this point, it didn't seem that necessary.

And even though the day was almost over, Guy hadn't forgotten his decision to take a shower today. While he was perfectly warm and dry at this point, the memory of being soaked to the bone by the rain was still stuck in his mind. On top of that, the greenhouse had been pretty muggy, so the idea of being properly clean sounded pretty good right about now.

Surprisingly, the nurse didn't bat an eye when he told her that he wanted to take a shower. She led him to the shower area, which for once was completely empty, and stood outside the room as Guy was granted complete privacy to wash himself off. Not that he minded the communal setting, but it was nice to have a bit of privacy for once. He savored the feeling of the hot water soaking through his skin and let out a satisfied sigh when he finally turned the water off.

Once he'd dried off, dressed again, and toweled most of the excess water out of his hair, it was finally time to go to the Music Room. Guy stretched his arms up into the air as he stepped inside, feeling nice and refreshed for once.

Usually he went to go toy with the "Walkmans" when he came here, because he couldn't play any instruments himself, and so he wandered in that direction.

[For Ilia.]

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!]

[from here]

In any case, that wasn't a thought he could afford to linger on at the moment. He was venturing into unknown territory now and the fewer distractions, the better. Especially since he didn't even have a precise destination in mind. Nor anything specific he was looking for, per say. It was more a matter of trying to see if there was anything worth finding.

...And this is why he left investigating up to the police. Wandering around haphazardly and wasting time under the blind hope that just maybe he'll find something of value was really not his style. The police found the puzzle pieces, he worked on putting them together. That was how he preferred it. However, he didn't have that luxury here so more often than not, he found himself doing things like this on his own. In the dark. Armed with a blasted foot-long pipe.

He took a deep, quiet breath and turned his focus up toward the door marking the entrance to the Medical Wing. This had been an area of interest as of late. It was also an area he knew almost nothing about. The map that he had copied long ago indicated that this was a... rather large area. A large area that those making the original map hadn't had the chance to diagram for whatever reason. Other than that, he knew little more than that people had found some odd pictures in an x-ray room. So this was really a daring leap for him to be taking on his own.

Oh and look. The door had a lock. As did a lot of the more interesting places here. Hopefully this was a sign that this little excursion would amount to something. After another breath and a few good whacks, the lock snapped and Klavier pulled it off, dropping it to the ground with a less than subtle clang.

.... It might be a good idea for him to not do that ever again.

[to here]

[from here, skipping a few halls]

Here it was. Skulduggery wasn't around yet, but Rita expected he would show up soon. He'd been punctual up until now.

If what she'd been hearing was right, she was going to need to look out for both monsters and patients tonight. Seemed simple enough. Rita stood with her back against the wall opposite to the Sun Room doors, and waited.

[ from here. ]

Learning process: she knew the monsters were there now, lurking behind every corner, within the shadows her flashlight cast whenever she redirected the beam. Last night had been a blur of confusion and apprehension, and this night was quickly turning out to be the same.

Or perhaps it was even more pronounced in all of its unknowns. A sharp blur of anxiety and fear that crept up on and crippled her more than the supposed limits imposed upon her powers, than her legs that felt like jelly beneath her with every successive step until she worried that they would trip her up as they had done the night before. It took a considerable amount of effort to tell herself that the monsters didn’t frighten her. A Hollow, Dracula, a Godzilla-sized Kon could pop out at her at any moment, but she knew – she was not afraid.

No, the monsters did not frighten her, but her imagination did worse. As Orihime made her way down the corridor, she attempted to instill some confidence in herself, to talk and try to start a conversation in hushed, whispered tones. “Ayame, Shun’o… You two are okay, right?” How apt, she thought, that if this asylum held any credibility to it, then perhaps she really was talking to the voices in her head, to the fairies that lived in her hairpins that allowed her to heal the wounded.

Putting it into perspective like that, she quickly realized she did not like the aforementioned perspective very much.

Learning process: she bypassed the door to the women’s restroom and made it to the door leading out to the bigger hallway she was led down earlier in the day. At the very least, she thought, it was progress.

[ to here. ]

[ F2 ]

True enough, the intercom sounded off like clockwork. The doctor spoke, all pretenses were shed, and Orihime sat in her bed feeling simultaneously refreshed and nauseated by it, by the fact that they were little more than caged animals scrutinized beneath an indifferent eye. After spending the better part of the day distrusting strangers (the nurse that had followed her, the infamous head doctor), it was both a relief and a dread to witness the reality of it for herself – to understand, with an uncharacteristic yet self-aware sort of bitterness, that she had more than enough reason to dislike these people straight off the bat.

Orihime listened, fingers pressing indents into her mattress and trembling as she kept her composure, as she refused to let the careless message (if you don’t die) get to her. It was, still is, a learning process: she learned how to worry without so much of the weeping and the unnecessary bemoaning wails, the prying when she figured that her presence would be more of a hindrance than a help. And so it occurred to her that she should say something, to try to reassure Flora-san before she headed out (a high-five, perhaps? thumbs up?), but there wasn’t very much she could – can – do.

There wasn’t very much to say, was the thing. How horrible and what a heartless person were on the tip of her tongue, but she had no confidence that her voice wouldn’t shake (stammerwhisperbreak) if it committed to such loaded statements. Instead, she jumped out of bed the moment the door unlocked, grabbing her flashlight from underneath her pillow and pulling open her closet for a pair of sneakers, swallowing down the uneasiness that had clumped in the middle of her throat. The cold sweat was unavoidable though, even as her sweatshirt served as some form of comfort, even as she pretended that it was OK to let herself get away with it – with the sense of new hero empowerment that came with the responsibility she had assigned herself for the night. Pretending she didn’t know better.

“I’m sorry I can’t stick around. There are some people waiting on me,” she said, keeping her tone perfectly neutral even as she wondered to herself when exactly she’d picked up such a nifty trick. “But we’ll meet back here later, right, Flora-san? We will, and then we’ll-“ We’ll have a slumber party, we’ll have a pillow fight, I’ll teach you the secret of playing Monopoly.

Because we’ll be alive and okay.

She smiled, facing her new roommate. “We’ll get to know each other even more.”

With her flashlight in hand and her pins tucked along the right side of her hair, she ventured forth, opening the door and heading out into the hallway without a faltered step, a hesitant look back, even as the darkness swallowed her whole.

[ to here. ]

As the sun began to inch closer to the horizon, dark clouds gathered overhead. Even so, the Head Doctor didn't let that damper his enthusiasm.

"Good evening, everyone! I hope you've all had an enjoyable day, particularly our newcomers. Here at Landel's Institute, we're eager to welcome you into our big, warm family, so make yourselves right at home!

"For dinner, we're serving teriyaki & tempura, with our usual assortment drinks, including water, milk, and several kinds of juices. Enjoy your meals!"

As the nurses escorted patients to their assigned rooms, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the sound of rain tapping against the outside of the building echoed through the halls. Some of the staff would comment about the sudden change in weather, but no one let it interfere with their duties.

((Respond to this post with your character's room number in the subject line. New room assignments are listed here. If you have any questions, let us know!))

The game room, huh... In normal, everyday life, it wouldn't have sounded too terrible, but as things were, it seemed like more of an annoyance. Games were fine, but priorities.... On the other hand, Kyousuke seemed to have hit a block in figuring out the clues to the the illness, and just thinking without getting anywhere wasn't very productive, either. At this point, it may have been best to push it aside and come back to it fresh. He had his reservations about it, especially since the end of the day was rapidly approaching, but... Frustration wasn't going to get him any closer.

He poked around what games were there with resignation, still half wondering what he was even doing and trying not feel guilty for needing a break. After a while he came across an electronic device marked "Game Boy Color" and picked it up out of curiosity. He'd heard of those before... If he was right, this thing was older than he was, by quite a bit. Flicking it on confirmed his suspicions; the sound and graphics from it spoke for themselves.

Shrugging, he took it a random seat, wincing at the pain in his ribs as he sat down. He guessed it wouldn't kill him to mess around with this thing for a little while.

[Lloyd!]

Link wasn't in the mood for 'rest and relaxation,' as the boss had put it. Daytime here was completely unproductive, and it was frustrating. There was little he could do, other than keep up with recording his map. He supposed he ought to take the chance to get to know the other patients: Who was powerful, who needed help, who knew what... Perhaps some of the people who had been here longer. Link was lucky he had Sora as a friend, who seemed to know a good deal about how things worked.

It was a two-edged sword, though, that the boy had to have been trapped here for quite some time to be as settled as he was.

The Hylian settled into a chair with his journal, tapping the strange sort of writing device he had been given against his chin. It had become evident last night that the building was relatively organized, the second floor being similar in its main layout to the first floor. That was somewhere to start, at least.

[Nina, dearest!]

What Guy had seen on that scan resulted in some mixed feelings. While he had expected to find something in Claude, seeing how he was sick, it hadn't been quite the same as what they'd seen when they had scanned that other ill patient two nights ago. What did that mean? It was possible that the shape of it just looked different because of where it was in Claude's stomach, but Guy couldn't help but feel that there was a deeper meaning to it.

Yet another thing that he didn't understand, then. With a sigh, he got himself up out of bed and went searching immediately for the single leaf that he'd taken from the X-ray room last night. It was stored carefully in his possessions box, which meant that he didn't have to worry too much about that.

While he wanted to quickly sketch the leaf's general shape to post on the bulletin, Guy wasn't given that chance, as his nurse showed up before he could even grab for his journal. He had to relent and let her lead him to the cafeteria for breakfast. While Guy considered stopping by the bulletin to leave a note, that could wait until after he ate. He suspected that Anise or Luke would try to find him as soon as possible to tell him about their findings, so leaving a note for them would be redundant.

He did need to ask about the clue from last night and see if anyone else had further insight on it, but that might be something Claude wanted to do, seeing how he had a better idea of who that baptist was and what it all might signify.

After collecting a small amount of food onto a plate, Guy took a seat near the cafeteria's entrance, keeping an eye out for any of his friends so he could flag them down as they walked in.

[For Anise and Claude.]

Another clue in the X-Ray Room. That was surprising and, if Soma was perfectly honest with herself, a little frustrating. She'd already mostly convinced herself the surgery was necessary. But if there was still more information out there...

The operating room in the medical wing would have most of the supplies Lingormr would need tonight, she decided. It was probably too much to hope the power would be on, but they'd have to make do with what they could find. If she was quick about it, she'd be able to run across the hall and find the next clue, too.

She packed hurriedly: flashlight, radio, handgun. The katana would likely only get in the way tonight. The faster she moved, the better. Her symptoms didn't seem to be any worse right now, but she wasn't leaving anything up to chance.

She stripped the pillowcase from her bed and tucked it into the waistband of her pants. Then, with an attempt at a smile, she nodded at Leanne and was out the door.

[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.]

[From here]

Once again, he was dumped out into this spacious room that was pretty, sure, but wholly unfun. He stared up through the glass ceiling above them, soaking up the rays of sun that seemed like he would never be able to bask in freely again.

Three meals a day and some entertainment at night was enjoyable enough, but he was starting to get bored with this routine. Spontaneity was the spice of life and Goku was starting to feel suffocated by this constant rhythm. The little boy may only have room for a few goals at a time in his head, but they were just as important as everyone else's, even more so in some cases! He needed to reclaim his grandpa's treasure and continue his training! The witches in white just couldn't understand this, girls as they were.

Huffing, the young boy set out to look for one of his furry companions for any new information on the secrets of the institute. He got down on all fours and began crawling around the couches, looking here and there for any signs of his accomplices.

[For Taura~!]

[From here.]

It was chilly out in the courtyard, making Lloyd glad for the odd but relatively warm clothing he'd found himself in when he woke up. He could have stay inside the building, he knows. His nurse had told him he had a choice of several rooms he could eat his lunch in, if he wanted. The cold felt good, though, and the tree he was sitting against felt solid and comfortable. He still felt lost, but trying to get straight answers from the nurse was frustrating. The man had retreated to let him eat in peace, promising to come back when Lloyd was finished and he'd had a chance to "clear his head." The teen was just fine with that.

Lunch itself was actually pretty good. He'd gotten a chicken sandwich, and his spirits lifted a little when he saw that there was a brownie with it. It had taken him a minute to figure out the box with juice inside, having never encountered anything like that before, but after that it was easy to just settle down and enjoy his food.

Well, for the most part. Worry for his Dad still ate at him, and he had no idea where any of his friends were. He still felt a little off, too, like some intangible part of him was missing or weakened, but he chalked that up to leftover side effects of whatever it was Yuan had done to him. He was confident that would disappear soon enough, once he finished recovering. He already felt well enough that as soon as he was done eating, he was determined to leave. If his doctor had his things, he'd ask for them first, and maybe he could talk to some of the other people here, see if they knew anything that could help, but one way or another, he needed to find his friends and make sure his Dad was all right.


[To here.]

Scar came to slowly, vision blurred and head throbbing. His memory of the previous night was vague and somewhat scattered. What he was most aware of was his renewed and increased hatred for the man called Lingormr. The Ishbalan didn't give a damn if he had been a special counseling patient. That bastard had enjoyed every second of tearing Scar to shreds. What he may or may not have realized was how much it had affected Scar emotionally. He had felt a renewed sense of drive at the start of the night; the disruption on the intercom and the news of the 'cure' had rekindled a fire that fueled Scar to drive forward. To have a little hope.

Lingormr had promptly crushed that.

He was in pain. So much pain. The cut on his hand was only fading scab at this point, but stitches now pulled at the deep gashes in his legs and back. Not only had the nausea not settled, but his stomach was beginning to cramp. The rash on his arm was impossible to hide without the old bandages covering it. It had nearly reached his elbow.

Scar's hazy eyes could make out the nurse, now pushing a wheelchair up to his bedside. This was humiliating. And he was too exhausted and hurting to lash out or become angry. He was just broken. He still tried to take some sort of grudging control, insisting that he didn't need to be pushed around, that he could at least turn the wheels of the damned chair himself. But he didn't make it down the hallway before the pulling and sharp pain in his back became so obvious on his face that the nurse took over.

He entered breakfast with a frustrated, tired, but overall defeated look to him. Scar felt too sick to eat. He sat at the table and brooded, wishing more than anything to simply be left alone.

[For Goku!]

There was, at first, a light. There was something familiar in that.

Renamon's eyes eased open slowly, cracking in increments instead of all at once. She expected to feel as she ought, beaten and sore, a heavy heart and weary soul. To again have to think about everything that had been fought for. The winning that was worse than losing, and the stagnancy that trumped over all. Sometimes continence, existing, living-- Sometimes the act of protecting life itself took away your reason for it. The feeling of loss would always be fresh. She would never get over the lack in her heart. Even the mindless rituals she could call, familiar patterns to give herself to, monotony to keep her body busy so her mind did not think could not absorb the need in her chest. For the one who was everything, and the one who Renamon was parted from. She took a breath, careful and quiet. And realized belated that the light shining down on her wasn't natural, wasn't the light she had become used to.

She opened her eyes fully, to take in what was there. And before she could ken the sand enclosure, the grandstands, the other people spaced around her, the Digimon took in one thing, and only that.

Her fingers stretched, claws shining--when she tensed her thighs, she could feel the strong muscles that would propel her into the air. Behind her, a heavy tail moved, for the balance needed to sustain the grace she imposed on her surroundings. And atop her head, large ears flicked, taking in the movement of the two in the stands, and another somewhere close-by.

It was too obvious to say the change. And she found that in the face of it, to the return of what had been taken, she could not speak.

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!))

While Guy's conversation with Tear had taken a more somber tone in the end, he was still glad to have confirmed that the girl was all right. Sleeping in was not her style in the slightest, but seeing how something similar had happened to him recently, Guy knew how easily it could happen. In the end, he hadn't suffered any ill effects as a result of that day spent asleep, so he was going to not worry too much about Tear.

Anise was the one he was more worked up about, especially because he didn't know who she had told about her illness so far. Was he the only one? Was she planning to tell the others? Guy didn't feel right keeping it from them, but he didn't want to run around spilling Anise's secrets, either. It was something he was going to have to check with her as soon as he could.

In the meantime, it seemed like the movie that he and Claude had decided to vote for had been picked as the one they would be watching this afternoon. Claude was definitely going to be happy about that, and Guy was pretty excited to see it too, now that he had some idea of what it was about. Calling some sort of religious figure who had sacrificed himself a "superstar" certainly seemed odd, which was probably why it had stood out to Claude in the first place.

When Guy entered the Sun Room, he saw that his friend hadn't made it there yet and that the staff was still setting up the projector. With his first pick of the couches, Guy made sure to choose one that had a clear view of the screen but wasn't so close that it might hurt their eyes. He took a seat and then kept an eye out for Claude, figuring that the younger man would be along any minute now.

[For Claude.]