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The Gambler sat near the head of the bed, legs crossed, and wrote down a small message onto the paper. A childish threat, one that would not be even read, but it was the thought that counted. The time seemed to tick by so slowly, and though he would have none of their poisoned food, he did let the candy cane he pilfered click against teeth as he rolled it inside his mouth with his tongue.

It felt surreal, having one of those infamous Organization meeting in an asylum of all places, but what could he do? It was going to happen eventually, and gathering information on the other's timelines, as well as their abilities, would be critical to escaping this place. Besides, it was fitting, considering the mental stability of their little group.

And he thought he had enough of asylums in the last life.

'… three, two, one'

Luxord only smirked as the lock predictably clicked open, eyes moving away from the journal to glace sinisterly at the door. "And we have meeting sign."

At least he could count on this night to be an interesting one.

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.

Time for lunch.

Nothing new there. It was at the same time, in the same place, but it was far from ordinary today. Sure, it was the Halloween celebration, or whatever the man announcing the daily activities had gone on about, but that was the least of Zexion's concerns. Rather, his attire was his new source of distress.

After showering, he had discovered the plain grey uniform he had become somewhat accustomed to was gone, for the most part. One of the nurses explained his wardrobe change was a gift from his.. family?

That was an astounding lie. He had to wonder, was there really an outside source responsible for all of this, or was it all an excuse to humiliate them?

While grudgingly attempting to puzzle out the costume, he asked every question he could think of concerning his 'family'-- what were their names, where did they live, what did they look like, etc. Sadly, all of his inquiries were cheerily brushed off, and he was led away to the cafeteria once he had dressed himself.

Naturally, he was not pleased once he arrived, looking like.. some.. humanoid penguin-dolphin thing in a beige coat.

Ugh. The shame.

Greed might have been either appalled or smug to know he'd woken up in a girl's cell block, but unfortunately for him, there weren't any girls to see. Instead, as he kicked the weakened door open and marched into the hall, he found that he was the only one in it.

More reason to believe that the bitch had dragged him back to one of her abandoned mansions, though he wondered why she'd neglected to put some kind of alchemic seal on the door. She must have had something especially nasty planned for him if she was trying to make him think he was so incredibly home-free, since that was generally the way she worked. Misleading, making people miserable. The works.

He grit his teeth, bringing up his hands to inspect them once more. He was accustomed to easing in and out of his shield as much as he goddamn pleased, so having another restriction put on his person pissed him off to no end.

Dammit. It took longer even to get rid of it.

A door opened to the homunculus' left just as he finished getting his shield back down again, and he immediately regretted having done it in the first place. He felt strangely drained from using his powers at even the slightest magnitude, and to waste some use of them when that old hag was afoot was suicide.

Then again, suicide was a better alternative to being under her thumb. Or at least it had been. Heh.

He swung around towards the door, eyes narrowed and ready to catch a glimpse of some fellow homunculus who had been ordered to put him back in his place. Lust and Gluttony, maybe. Greed grinned, wryly. If Dante was setting this up so that he'd get his ass kicked like his chimeras'....

Instead, however, he caught a glimpse of white hair, an immediate sign that this figure wasn't one of his reject brethren.

Unless it was Envy. But then why the hell...?

"Who the hell are you?" Greed growled, put on edge by the prospect of finding himself in one of his former master's traps once again.

The storm had drawn close. Dark clouds obscured the blue sky that usually graced the grounds of Landel's Institute, and the intermittent sound of thunder echoed throughout the dark, empty hallways of the hospital. The wind howled. The intercom clicked on.

"Good evening, everyone!" The Head Doctor called out in a voice that seemed more appropriate for a ringmaster than a man with medical degrees. A short, soft chuckling ensued, which ended in a long sigh, as if the man in question was reclining in an assumedly comfortable chair. One could almost see him steepling his fingers.

"I'm sure you're all wondering if I'm God at this point, summoning storms and razing the ground with lightning bolts and all that." A pause. "The truth of the matter is... no, I'm not, but I had might as well be, so much do I control your sad, pathetic little world."

A faint squeak as said chair rocked back and forth. Suddenly, the sound of a hand slamming against the wooden top of a desk. The voice was lower, more dangerous than before.

"But you don't believe that yet, do you? Even after everything I've done?" A crackly, whooshing sound as he waved his arm through the air. "After new facilities and new nurses and species and rules and building behavioral settings and treatments and solutions and every little goddamn thing--"

His voice had descended to a whisper that was louder than his words from before for the fact that his mouth had gone so close to the microphone. He paused, then seemed to pull back from it again. His voice went back to what it had been before.

"But no matter. I'll let you go out and play early tonight, because, why yes---" he had begun to laugh without mirth "--I am a merciful soul if I feel like you things deserve it after everything I've done for you. In fact..."

Again, his whisper had gone loud.

"I've brought you some new playmates, and... modified some of the old ones. Did I mention your playground has some brand new swings?"

His voice suddenly went loud again, as if calling out the names of winners.

"Lucille Belli! Regina Ellis! James Shepherd! You three are going to through some very special counseling tonight, and I'm sure everyone will be surprised to see just what a difference it can make in a person!"

Another creaking sound, as if he was moving to turn off the switch. He paused, adding:

"Oh! Silly me, almost forgetting. Please welcome four brand new souls to the playground of the damned---Marcus Bailey, Charlie Brown, Morrigan Chaîne, and Keane Fuchs! Welcome them with some very open arms!"

Another laugh, then another. The intercom, with one last hiss of static, clicked off as thunder cracked and lightning tore through the sky.

The doors unlocked.