An unexpectedly uneventful night had been followed by an equally dull day.

L had slept late -- something uncharacteristic at home that was becoming troublingly common here in the few weeks since the surgery -- but had woken in time for a late brunch. He followed his meal with a perusal of the message board, which was of less interest on the whole than the note that was passed off to him by another patient in the Sun Room.

After copying the numbers into his journal, he'd dropped it into someone else's lap. If they'd already seen it, they could send it around to someone who might not have. It wasn't his problem. The nature of how the note was being passed meant that it would be better to see it two or three times anyway... otherwise, everyone would miss the information added by everyone who came after them.

It was Visitors' Day. It marked four weeks at the Institute for him. The vast majority of people who had been there the first week were gone, and the population on the whole was much lower, which could be seen from certain viewpoints as an ominous sign. Unnerving or not, it meant that there was now an array of potential visitors for L... Abe, Jones, Howell, Lunge, and almost anyone else from those first three weeks.

The only one who had ever visited him before was Abe, or the complacent figure Landel had managed to turn Abe into. It was strange that a man who had had that kind of insight into L's secrets had been convinced just days later that everything was a delusion, so much so that no appeal to logic would work on him.

When the nurse tapped him on the shoulder ("Daniel, please follow me. Your friend has come to visit you!"), he merely shrugged, raised his eyebrows, slipped his feet into his shoes, and followed. The brief walk was uninteresting; he occupied himself wondering who it would be, someone from here or someone from home, what they would say to him to convince him that he was a very disturbed young man who would have a bright future if only, and so on. At worst it would probably be a tedious conversation. What would happen later tonight, if they managed to reach the Coliseum this time, was the more pressing matter, the one that haunted his thoughts. It was almost cruel that they hadn't been able to reach it the previous night: it meant another entire day of uncomfortable anticipation, not knowing exactly what he would have to face.

The nurse ushered him into the lobby where the visitor was waiting. His stomach fell, and for the moment, his concerns about the Coliseum vanished, as he realized that he hadn't been prepared for this at all. A rattled expression flashed across his face, then almost immediately fell away, replaced by something much less revealing.

He shouldn't have been surprised, but the idea of something was different from the experience of it.

[Team Lars Reunion.]

Lunge's hand was starting to cramp as Landel announced the end of second shift. If he were to limit himself to one thing to say about Javert's legacy in the Institute it was that it was a long and fruitful one: page upon page of careful, thorough notes without any trimmings. Data perfect for filing away and storing in his own mind, ready to unravel when the occasion called for it as it did  now. Aiding Badd's friend by proxy wasn't vital to the case, it was true, but the more contacts he had, the better. A few shifts spent writing up notes seemed very little to ask for in return for another pair of eyes and another set of hands around the Institute.

His nurse approached from the doorway, ready to spirit him away, but Lunge's pen was poised over the paper. There was one more thing he needed to do- one last corner of his conscience he realised, uncomfortably, he wanted to lay to rest for Javert's sake.

Without looking up, he scrawled down another patient number and wrote: Patient recalled being taken from his room in the usual fashion and waking up strapped to a chair. Patient reported undergoing a series of further injections across various points on his body. Patient hypothesises that these injections have in some way interrupted his memory. He was aping the man's style before he could stop himself; a few loops of French script eased their way into his handwriting. Notably, the patient remembered being referred to as 'Subject 97A-3', but the meaning of this is questionable.

Lunge sat back and stared down at his work, heart beating. Then he closed the notebook, got up, and allowed himself to be taken out to the courtyard, where he hoped the cold air would revive him a little. Such sentimentality... it was a waste. But that didn't stop him from hoping that Javert would appreciate it, in his own way.

[free]

A misplaced sense of familiarity met Barnaby the moment he opened his eyes, and the sight of the blank, white ceiling from yesterday morning greeted him. After rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Barnaby sat up and felt around for his glasses. Had he blacked out again and wasted an entire night? Where was Kotetsu? And what had become of the man who had seemingly vanished before his very eyes at the end of dinner?

Once Barnaby slipped his frames onto his face, the world came into clearer focus, even if he didn’t get any answers out of it. He was in his room, and someone had apparently stripped him out of his street clothes in favor of the hideous hospital pajamas. Barnaby wasn't sure what he found more offensive -- that someone here had once again touched his things without his permission, or that he’d been undressed while unconscious for the second time since his arrival.

The thought made his skin crawl.

Just as he looked over to find a lump in the bed next to him, though, his assigned nurse came to retrieve him. He would have to confirm Klavier Gavin's whereabouts later. For now, he had no choice but to allow the nurse to escort him into the cafeteria. Strangely, she seemed to be under the impression that he and the other patients had slept soundly the whole night. While he might have assumed it was an act, Barnaby got the feeling that she genuinely believed what she was saying.

Regardless of her intentions, he knew she wasn't going to be any help. Instead of trying to ask her anymore questions, Barnaby left a note on the bulletin board concerning his roommate. If his observations from yesterday were any indication, he'd get some responses, at least. While he could have taken the time to leave something for Kotetsu, Barnaby didn't feel inclined to do so, especially when he knew he probably wouldn't check the board anyway.

He had no appetite this morning, but his nurse wouldn't leave him alone until she'd assembled a tray of fresh, fluffy pancakes for him. Honestly, Barnaby didn't see why some people felt the need to butt into his personal choices like this. At least there wasn't anyone forcing him to eat -- for now, at any rate. He sat down at an empty table close to the wall after setting his food down, privately hoping that she wouldn't try to find a "friend" for him to eat with this morning. He was tucked out of the way, so maybe she would forget about him for a few minutes as long as he didn't draw any unnecessary attention to himself.

Hands neatly clasped on the table, Barnaby didn't look at anyone in particular as patients filtered into the cafeteria for their morning meal. There were too many questions buzzing in his mind for him to focus on the names and faces of people he didn't care about. If Kotetsu wanted to find him, he could. It wasn't like Barnaby was going anywhere.

[For Kotetsu.]

[From here]

Well, no more rabid rodents trying to climb into Daemon's pants so far. Renji was pretty sure he should have some kind of witty remark to say about that, but words were failing him for the moment.

Opening the refrigerator door required some judicious use of the pipe, but it gave up resisting eventually, like Renji had known it would. He paused for a moment to grab an ice cream out of the freezer box - because why the hell not - then went to the familiar discolored tile and pried it up to reveal the door to the basement.

At least that hadn't changed.

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.]

Like clockwork, the intercom came on at the end of the hour. And like clockwork, the Head Doctor began the first of his concluding daytime announcements with abnormal levels of cheer and good will.

"Good evening, everyone! What a fun-filled day we've had, hm? You must all be tuckered out and ready for bed."

Why, the man seemed unwilling to say.

"Never fear. We're nearing the end." He paused thoughtfully. "The main course of our dinner menu tonight is gourmet spaghetti topped with our signature marinara sauce. We have garlic bread and Caesar salad for your sides as well as your choice of vanilla, strawberry, or chocolate ice cream for dessert. As usual, we will have our assortment of drinks and vegetarian alternatives. If you're partial to that little extra omph, we have parmesian cheese available upon request."

There was another pause, this time with papers rustling in the background. "Take care not to stain your letters now. Bon appétit!"

The intercom clicked off.

[From here]

Looked like she was the first one out this way. Utena stopped just short of the Sun Room, turning her light back to see if anyone she knew was coming up the hall behind her. No one so far.

Utena switched her light off as she leaned back against the wall. She was pretty sure everyone preferred not to be fighting hordes of rotting dogs and bigfoot monsters again tonight, so she figured the less attention she called to herself out here, the better. The only downside to doing that was that it made seeing down the hall a bit more difficult. She squinted a bit, eyes trying to adjust to the near-pitch darkness as she pictured what one of her silhouetted companions might look like.

It was kind of a weird group they had put together when she really looked at it. She and Aigis had been friends before, of course, but she never would have pegged the quiet Aigis being friends with someone as brash as Sechs. And neither of them really knew much about the redhead; Utena didn't even know if they knew his real name or not. They had worked together well enough the night before, though, both in combat and as a riddle-solving team. She had a good feeling about the group, despite them not all each other that well yet. Getting to know Sechs that afternoon had been an interesting and enlightening experience in contrast to the violence she had seen from him the night before, and she had to admit, the mysterious redhead at the very least intrigued her, even if he seemed to share some of Touga's or Landel's smugness. She was looking forward to seeing what they could all get done tonight — and beyond, for that matter.

She kept a careful eye out from her spot in the shadows, wondering who would show up first.

Even as dinner had passed, Lunge hadn't budged. Harvey knew that that couldn't be a good thing, but it wasn't his business to babysit the guy anyway. It was going to be a hassle if Lunge ended up disappearing, seeing how he'd have to go through the same old song and dance of meeting a new roommate, but he'd make sure that people knew if it happened. There was no point in letting people worry themselves sick over someone.

Then again, was there someone that close to Lunge? He seemed like the sort of guy who kept everyone an arm's length (or more) away from him. So was Harvey, though, and there were people here who probably considered him a "friend."

Yeah, it was strange.

Stranger was Landel's voice bellowing out in self-absorbed tones over the intercom again. Harvey glared up at the intercom, and it wasn't the first time he'd done so that day. Aguilar was still the one he wanted his hands on more than anyone, but he was more than willing to siphon some of his anger onto the Head Doctor too.

All the talk about how they would never be getting powers back hardly applied to Harvey. He'd managed to hold his own last night, so he wasn't going to let the man's words bother him. Right now he was willingly going to do something that was probably far more dangerous than whatever Landel was planning to throw at them, anyway.

Still, if there was any time to throw caution to the wind, it was now. Which was why he gathered up his gun and metal pipe along with the usual flashlight and radio and then headed out.

[To here.]

[from here]

S.T was navigating by a fingertip on the wall and the slight breeze of a functioning HVAC system. The halls were dark again. Completely empty, too. He was out early. And he was still thinking.

Something so fallible, he'd said. So that talk about a device had been true? Freaky. Maybe he really wasn't human. Replaced by a machine, and pouting about it. Long live the industrial revolution. He was glad he'd taken the radio. If they were going to be treated to another very special episode, he wanted to hear it.

[to here]

[to here]

They turned towards the south, turning with the corner of the Institute and moving down towards the ruined town. Remembering the hunting knife in his pocket, Lunge swiftly took it into his hand and held it tight for protection's sake.

"I simply told him that I'd met Marc and gave him my assessment of his character," he added swiftly, glancing sideways at L. "Your name wasn't mentioned, and neither was the location of our meeting." He hadn't been that careless; if he was going to give anything away he wouldn't have let it implicate anyone but himself. Ultimately he'd stayed rather more tight-lipped than anticipated, but the principle had nonetheless guided much of his answer to that question.

Not that his silence on the details had much impeded his own ability to ask questions- it had been patently clear from the beginning that no amount of talking would have earned him an equally thorough answer of his own on the matter of Lydia. "He allowed me to ask my own questions, and so I asked about Lydia," he explained. "'Wouldn't' is the more accurate. I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to answer that question is what he said." A pause. "I think it's obvious that they know who she is. It would be interesting to know whether that means that they have her or that she's missing." Not only interesting, but potentially what the meaning of tonight's changes hinged upon.

[From here]

"It's this way," the assassin called out to his side, his eyes attempting to focus on the darkness before them. They had made it to the forest fast enough when he had been traveling with Sora, which meant it shouldn't be much an issue with someone as fast as Zanuff was. "Down and to the right."

Somehow, the area felt just as cold and empty as it had three nights ago. It wasn't empty. He wasn't that gullible to believe that--he could feel something here. But the darkness covered just enough of their surroundings to make it appear as nothing more than a desolate, snowy wasteland.

They couldn't stay out in the open for long. Which meant...

Nngh...

It was with great hesitance and great annoyance that Venom found himself moving to grasp onto his company's wrist. "Hurry."

[from here]

It was admittedly a little better outside. The air lacked the smell of too many things not-so-freshly killed and it felt less claustrophobic than the hallways by far. Unfortunately, even the sky seemed to be glowing faintly pink, which meant Code Fabulous was still in effect. It was casting a lot of freaky shadows.

Badou was starting to think that this might have been a bad idea. Passing through the Rec Field was the quickest route to Alle's room, but not necessarily the safest one. Despite the fact that he was moving quickly with his back mostly to the wall, he kept thinking he saw shapes moving out on the field.

He couldn't be more relived when his fingers closed around the cool metal of the knob and the door eased open. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who wanted in apparently. Something fat and mangy reared up about five feet ahead of him. Badou froze. The squirrel stared. Badou stared back. You have got to be kidding me.

"You wouldn't be one of those singing---"

The squirrel bared its teeth and lunged. Badou swung the door open, throwing his weight behind it as quickly as he could. The impact nearly pushed him off his feet, but squirrel face meeting door was a pretty fantastic sound. Badou grinned. Asshole.

Maybe when he told this story, he'd say it was a bear. And that he'd punched it in the face. And that it had stayed down, because Alvin sure as hell wasn't going to let a little head trauma get between them.

Badou, on the other hand, would be all too happy to end this sordid affair. He bolted. In retrospect, he should have pulled the door shut behind him.

[RUNNING THIS WAY.]

Kibitoshin wasn’t sure what alarmed him the most; the wailing sirens and the juddering blare of the computer voice or the aching gap their sudden absence left behind.

He sat in his room, heart pounding, feeling as though the floor were writhing under his boots. Writhing, and shifting, too. What was happening here? What had already happened? He could still feel the commotion zinging through his skin, could still see the uncomfortable pink glow—pink, now there was bad colour for now, it was far too close to red to make him feel safe. Other than that, though, the world around him seemed unchanged. Same room, same box, same boots stood neatly beside them.

But it was different. He could just tell, the way you felt someone’s eyes staring into your back in the pitch black, or that you’d reached the top step on a flight of stairs. Something inside him so very and so perfectly natural could sense a subtle shift.

Unsteadily- he didn’t know why he was unsteady, but as he rose his head spun a little- he moved for his box to get changed. At least he could spare himself the embarrassment of changing in front of Ritsu now that he knew they were both male. Goodness only knew he felt uneasy enough as it was, and right now he needed the comfort of his old uniform more than ever if he was really going to go out there and help Peter still.

Which he was. Definitely.

“H-hey, I need to go. I’m going to be around to heal people, so- so if you need help, I might be able to find you,” he told his roommate, hopping slightly as he pulled on his left boot. “Be careful, okay? I have a bad feeling about this.”

With that he tied his sash about his waist, stepped out of his room- and suddenly understood.

[to here]

[From here.]

Did that just happen?

Peter slowed as he entered the safety of the outer hall (safety, really?), turning back to boggle at the door behind him. What - no. No way the cat monsters were that frail. Landel's did not work like that. Nothing was ever that easy here. They didn't get treated, they got tricked. Heart pounding, he checked the hall up and down. Once certain that he was alone, Peter pressed a shaking hand to the wall. Stick.

And it did.

His jaw did drop then. Peter was still for a moment. Switched off his flashlight and tied the pillowcase over his shoulder, then pressed both his hands to the wall. Then his feet. Then up further, rising up and up, then gravity flipped and he was staring down at the floor.

Oh my god.

Oh my god.

Was that the power the pink had granted him? The limits were off? Peter clung to the ceiling, the pillowcase settled on his stomach as he crawled upside down. His heart was beating. He was afraid. He was going to drop any minute. They were going to take it away. Or what if this was another challenge like the Coliseum? Something worse was in store because of this?

He almost stopped entirely. Then he thought of Jessica.

"No no no, she's gotta - maybe..."

Peter Parker was all but invisible in the pitch black hallway, crawling higher than most flashlights dared to venture as he found the exit.

[To here.]

Renji walked with purpose down the hall, though he wasn't in enough of a hurry to flashstep yet. He had to have somewhere he wanted to go first. Of course the idea that sprang instantly to mind was easily summed up as an equation: INSTITUTE + HIHIOU ZABIMARU = BOOM = :-D

However, that would need to wait until, for example, there weren't people he liked in the institute. And even with the Shinigami gone, he was sure there were people he liked around. Sora and Kairi sprang instantly to mind. So how to work that out? And he was sure there were other people around that had their own brand of kidou that could blow some shit up in a way that would paste a permanent smile on his face.

Organizing. That organizing thing needed to happen. And fast.

Anise woke up feeling lucky to be alive. She still felt a bit waterlogged, even though her skin, hair, and clothes were completely dry. During last night's adventures, she'd swallowed a lot of water, and it still felt heavy and disgusting in her stomach. Her arms and legs were tired from treading water. Lying still in her bed, she still kind of felt like she was floating and bobbing in the water.

But she was alive.

Knowing how close she came to death last night, and remembering the lengths her friends had gone to in order to save her, there was no way Anise could let a little discomfort get her down. She had to be at her best today so she wouldn't seem ungrateful to Guy and Claude. On that note, she had to remember to thank them properly, now that she was better able to express herself.

While getting ready, Anise was surprised to actually run into Claude that morning. He came to her room asking for the notebook he stored there (or maybe it was an excuse to see her cute face again), so Anise happily located it and handed it over. She was pretty tired, but the big smile she gave him was genuine. Who wouldn't be happy to see her savior so soon after a dramatic rescue?

After he left, Anise finished re-tying her pigtails into a low position so the military beret would fit on her head, and then she was ready! Even though her stomach wasn't feeling that great, she figured sitting down to a decent meal would help normalize it. And luckily for her, she was among the few who had the privilege of eating such a meal. Anise filled a plate with french toast topped with syrup and fruit, accompanied by small portions of each of the available side dishes.

It looked like she was early, which meant there weren't a lot of people around. That was okay, though. Anise could get a good head start on her meal before any company came around. She sat down at a table by herself and started on her sausage first.

[for Tolten!]

[from here]

From here, Vino could go several ways. The frequented Sun Room was the most obvious option, though he could also choose to either go into one of the side doors or continue onward down the hall. If he were an architect, Vino thought, where would he put a radio broadcast room in an insane asylum?

Definitely not the Sun Room, that's for sure. From his previous explorations, the doors on his right led to waiting rooms, the kinds one might find in a doctor's clinic. Nothing there except chairs and magazine racks. And Vino wasn't interested in those.

Oh, right. He'd taken those maps from the Sun Room during third shift, hadn't he? Those would be handy in a time like this, right? Vino fished out the crumpled sheet, switching on the flashlight so he could see better.

Not much was labeled except for areas marked as "STAFF ONLY" and other rooms he'd already been in around the Sun Room. Ah, he'd been right about those side doors. Vino doubted that they would have anything he was looking for in the Entry Room.

Meanwhile, farther east on the map, there was a section that caught his attention. Hadn't the message at the start of night announced something about a medical wing on the east side of the Institute? The giant, "STAFF" area certainly looked suspicious enough. Vino had no interest in doing any favors for the people in charge of the Institute, no matter what sort of reward they offered in exchange, but he did know that if they were planning something in that area, they'd have their people positioned there, right? It was worth a shot, at least.

Having decided, he looked the map over once again, committing the surrounding area to memory before switching the light off and stuffing the map back into his pocket.

[to here]

[from here]

He slipped silently down the hallway, flashlight (turned off) in hand, as he couldn't fit it into a pocket with both the bulky radio as well as the gun. A hassle, but bearable. Having a portable source of light handy with him while wandering dark corridors was actually rather helpful, even if normally, Vino wouldn't have bothered with it at all. Light showed up too brightly in darkness when he needed to be invisible.

Like a shadow, he passed through this larger hallway in his block, ignoring all the doors. He'd tried them all before. Besides, his job wasn't to break into a room. At least, not completely, anyway.

[to here]

[From here.]

Empty. Again.

Whoop-de-doo.

Less witnesses, good thing, yadda yadda yadda. Peter just wanted to get it all over with and get down to the good stuff. (Good being a subjective word here.) The basement. The coliseum of...whatever the coliseum had in store. A fight. Probably with lions. Three headed lions. The point was that they were finally getting somewhere, and now that the hour had come all Peter wanted to do was slice through every other bogus problem barreling his way and head straight for it. He was sick of worrying about Grell, about monsters, about the godawful crap Jessica and her attitude had brought him, about all the people that had left. Being fiction. Kirk had put a better spin on it, but that still did little to ease the grip on his insides every time the subject popped up. And if Captain freaking Kirk couldn't assuage him, then what could?

Getting down to business might. A chance to get answers would be even better.

[To here.]

That movie had been far more depressing than Guy had been ready for. It might not have been as bad if it hadn't all been based on real events, but knowing that people had tried so hard to escape only for so many to die was rather sobering.

Despite that, the action scenes had been intense enough that Guy was feeling revved up even after the credits rolled. He would have liked to spend the rest of the day with Claude, but he was sure his friend had someone he wanted to meet -- and more than that, the staff didn't seem to approve of them spending all of their time together. They seemed to think that they needed to make more friends.

Guy didn't mind meeting new people, but he also felt that he had all the friends that he needed already.

It wasn't his choice, though, and so he decided to spend the last part of the day in the library. It would help him calm down and get his mind off of that movie in time for dinner to come, at which point he'd have only their nighttime plans to worry about. Seeing how they were taking steps further into the basement, though, he definitely had good reason to be anxious.

While Guy had already bought a book in town and therefore didn't need to look for one to take back to his room with him, he still took some comfort out of the quiet of the room and the feeling of all the books surrounding him. He wished he could look up information about the war that the movie had been about, but he already knew that sort of thing wouldn't be available here. Instead, he took to wandering.

[For Alaric.]