"I look like a hobo," Yuffie whinged.

"You look lovely," her nurse consoled.

Yuffie was having none of it. "Hobos aren't lovely," she argued. "They're smelly and gross and they try to steal your small change." And then they realize who you are, and why they've suddenly got their feet jammed up the exhaust pipes of two separate trucks. And then they wet themselves (though that might've just been the cheap booze they'd been guzzling; she hadn't stuck around to find out).

Plucky sighed, ushering Yuffie firmly onto the bus. "Sit by the front," she said, still affecting that disconcertingly soothing air. "In case you feel ill."

In case? In case? "There's no 'in case' about it! You could always let me walk, y'know. Or, like, hook up a skateboard to the back of this bolt-bucket. That'd be mad cool, huh, don'tcha think? Near death-experiences always did help keep dinner down the trap-hole." Well, it was true. They did help, adrenalin being awesome like that. Unfortunately, Plucky was a prude, stubborn, and a complete party-pooper. All she did was shove a breakfast bag into Yuffie's hands—orange juice, thank gawd—before gliding away.

Left alone, it was all Yuffie could do not to fall into the biggest sulk of the century. If she didn't look like a hobo, she at least looked like she'd crashed into three separate wardrobes and come out wearing whatever fell on her first. And, and! And, the jeans! Why in Leviathan's name would anybody consent to wearing something so restrictive? They were like death in denim form.

Admittedly, part of her ire—most of it—was down to how far she'd gotten last night.

Because she hadn't. Gotten far. At all. Ugh!

She dropped her head forward, then knocked it back once, hard, against the seat. It's just one of those things, she could hear her old man say. Nothing you can do, he'd add, so you might as well go along with it. Crotchety, senile old jerk, always talkin' like he had the answer to everything right there in the palm of his hands. What a dumb way to live.

[Kurogane?]

[From here]

Back into room number 2 for a meeting that, like before, was a gamble in itself. The boy made it very clear he trusted the Nobody little to none and, should he not be mistaken with his memories, had very good reason to be. The entire predicament was fragile and Luxord had no room to be cozen. It wouldn't suit his game anyhow, but it especially would do no good to rest his chips on an unsteady table. Could he rest his fate in the hands of this child he did not know?

Still, this was a mystery in need of being solved. The boy had information about time spent here that Luxord did not, and if the boy wanted something in return for it, that was all right.

X reclaimed his spot on the top of the desk, crossing his legs and watching the door expectantly. He could wait.

...

This quiet demeanor lasted three minutes before the incessant leg-kicking from the night before came back and he began drumming his fingers against his right knee. Hm... If the owner of this room remained so insistent on his radical designs, would he go as far as to stitch the ceiling? Curious, the Nobody leaned back in his position and narrowed his eyes at the tiles above to be certain.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

[From here]

Left, then right. Left, then right. Left in the next hallway, right at the door.

There wasn't an actual need to repeat the directions to himself at this point, Luxord was just finding the spiraling shadows of boredom creeping up on him as he walked these empty hallways. It was as though spiders were weaving webs of monochrome design, glazing the viewing eyes over instead of attracting them. It was all the same boring stretches of walls, shadows, and the thump of boots on tile. If Landel's devious plot was to bore the Nobody into submission, he had quite the headstart!

Alright now, not too much further. Hopefully he would reach the room before the awkward whistling set in.

[Going over here]

[From over here]

While the prospect of loitering in the hallway he had just passed was tempting (just what was the Keybearer and his friends up to?), X was officially timing himself out of lack of anything else to do. There was no one to speak with, nothing to look at, no cards in his possession, but Time would never abandon. She was always there to focus on, so that was what he did.

Fifteen minutes to reach this hallway in silence...? He could do better, but since he saw no sign of his conspirator, he was not going to rush. Still, that didn't mean he was going to stop moving. The open doors of the Sun Room and the closed door across were ignored for now. They could be explored later when he had no further obligations.

As he kept timing his stride and paced ever forward, Luxord began to wonder if entertaining the idea to paint these walls garish colors would be fun or not. He could even make a game of it, should others get involved...

[lalalalala]

[from here]

Just before stepping outside, Anise turned her flashlight off, so the light wouldn't draw any lurking monsters straight to her. Once she was out, she eased the door shut behind her, so it made as little noise as possible.

With how dark and still the rest of the field was, she imagined even the slightest movements would stand out, and immediately she had the feeling she needed to get away from the door, in case something came to investigate the soft yet audible noises it made when she passed through. Tiptoeing over the grass, Anise followed the wall to the west side of the field, then walked a little bit north so she could vaguely make out both doors to the institute from where she stood.

There was a nagging feeling in the back of her mind, like maybe this was a bad idea. Didn't she scold Tsukasa for doing this just last night? Even so, Anise just tried her best to ignore that uneasy feeling. If something bad happened, she could just run back, or duck into the shed. She'd be okay.

The girl pressed her back to the wall, watching quietly as she waited for another patient to come her way.

[from here]

Another hallway, which meant that he needed to slow his steps to a jog and turn on his flashlight. His light shifted over the walls quickly, up, down, around him, and even toward the floor, as if little black heads with yellow beady eyes would suddenly pop out and attack him. Though he didn't have any idea what most of the monsters looked like here, Riku doubted that he would see anything like the heartless. They may have the Darkness to change Kairi completely, but it didn't seem like the type of thing they would use against their patients. Making them into heartless would only be useful in the situations where Nobodies might be involved. Some people here might be strong in heart, much like Sora had been, much like Kairi had been, but he doubted that would be the intended result of their experiments. No, they were probably going for something else.

But what?

Riku shook his head uncertainly before he picked up his pace again. Nothing seemed to be clear. Not even the Darkness of this place seemed like that Darkness, even as he tried to see if it was the same way. But with every aspect of him feeling relatively weaker, it was no surprise he couldn't really check, couldn't really differentiate to tell for certain. He also knew there was a possibility that his senses were weakened. That would slow him down more, but they didn't bother to remove his experience or knowledge. Those were still things Riku pocketed and kept. They were what would help him help his friends.

[to here]

Since he had no way of knowing what to expect, Indy geared up for the night as usual, adventuring clothes, dog leash and all. The only thing he didn't bother with was the radio--presumably room M25 already had one. After a quick double-check of everything, he headed out into the empty hallway, leaving the flashlight off for now. He knew the way well enough by now.

As he covered the few steps from his door to the connecting hallway, he wondered again what Ryuuzaki was planning. Was there some reason for not mentioning the meeting place on the bulletin board (even in another one of his overwrought code phrases), or was it just heightened paranoia at work? Indy's curiosity was piqued, that was for sure. He just hoped it'd be worth his time.

[ahead to here]

Hmph. While this Rude was the proverbial "man of few words," von Karma found more potential use from him than a number of the other patients he had met put together. He would still ask Franziska about the man... as well as the other people he had learned that she had been spending time around. Many of them were utter fools, especially that Kibitoshin.

He ignored the nurse as she insisted that he stay indoors, lest he "catch his death of pneumonia." Already having planned to meet his daughter in the Sun Room, the prosecutor had no intention of spending the cold, gloomy morning in the Courtyard anyway.

It appeared that he was the first to arrive in the spacious room. Gray light from the overcast sky filtered in through the glass windows high above, making it somewhat more difficult for von Karma to peruse the notes on the bulletin board as he awaited Franziska's arrival.

The lines in his forehead furrowed as he saw Kibitoshin's note to her, asking her whether she was "feeling better." What made that blasted oaf think that it was any of his business how she was doing or to worry about her?! She had been raised to take care of herself, damn it! ...Did Franziska say or do something that would lead the clumsy idiot to think otherwise? This, among other things, von Karma would ask her.

After removing his daughter's response to his original note from the board -- and noting that Ms. Taura had yet to reply to his other note -- he sat down at a table in a remote corner of the room, claiming this space that would afford him and his daughter the most privacy.

Mew?

What was that noise? And what was that tugging sensation at the leg of his pants? He peered down in the direction from which the irritating sound had come and was greeted by a tiny orange kitten that had the mistaken notion that his leg was a climbing post. Infernal creature! One glance at his face, and the furry little nuisance was suddenly at the other end of the room, having cleared it within several skittish bounds. Good riddance!

[Waiting for his Dear Daughter]

It had all been going so well!

Seeing Cloud and Aerith(!) again had brought a now unfamiliar lightness to her shoulders. Work would be harder from here on out, but she wasn't on her own anymore. She was getting a second chance she'd never thought was possible. And then, then they'd trekked outside, totally ready to face the fog and the unknown (privately, the ninja had been a little worried; it couldn't happen again, it just couldn't, but what if it did?)—only to wake up. In their beds. As usual. Gaaaaaawd—!

"I just want you to know," Yuffie informed her nurse, grabbing her journal from the desk on her way out, "that your hair looks spectacularly god-awful today. What did you do, stick your tongue in a socket? I'm not exactly hip on fashion, too busy badass for that fluffy stuff, but—"

Plucky looked ready to plant her face in her hands. Or to plant her hands somewhere else. To her credit, and much to Yuffie's eternal disappointment, she did—tried to do—neither. "One of those days, is it?" the nurse sighed, disapproval incarnate. "Well. You're just going to have to behave; the new batches of patients are due today. We don't want to make a bad impression."

"I am feeling so completely convinced of my wrongdoing," Yuffie confided. They stepped into the cafeteria, practically empty as of yet. The chocolate cake last night had worked a treat, whetting her appetite. Honestly, she was getting sick of pecking at scraps like a runt Chocobo in the snow plains—but not literally, of course. Ew. She got more than enough of that on those damn buses once a week. Now that AVALANCHE really was dropping onto her lap—and remind her to get the hell out of dodge if Barret ever took his turn—she couldn't afford not to keep her strength up. For one, she'd be a liability. For two, she'd get her spine chewed out.

"Fruit," said Plucky, hovering as her charge picked out her choices for the day. Rolling her eyes, Yuffie grabbed an apple, slinging it onto the tray alongside an 'English' sandwich. "That'll do. I'll leave you to your breakfast, now." Somehow, that sounded about as comforting as 'My name is Don Corneo and I am raiding through your panty draw', and Yuffie was stopping that thought right there. Oh, god. Eurk. Bad, bad, bad! Bad, brain. Bad. That—yeah, no. Just, no. 'Sides, the guy was as dead as a doornail, splatted across Da Chao's feet. Dirtying them, really, but somehow Yuffie couldn't bring herself to be sorry about that.

(And it wasn't like the creep'd ever end up here, right? Right!)

She took to a seat, dropping her tray and her journal both onto the table. The book fell pages-down; Yuffie flipped it over, thumbing through to the middle as she worked through her apple. An almost finished map of Gaia stared back at her, neat as she could ever manage. Dots for major locations, squiggles for mountains. Stars for the materia caves, Chocobos for the tracks. All labelled in Wutaian. It was just a little piece of the home she absolutely had to get back to, 'cuz Leviathan knew what kind of trouble they'd be up to their necks in without her.

[For Donna]

[From here]

This office was hideous. Strewn about stitches on every viable surface and spotted gray and white, coupled with a painted concrete floor, untidy paperwork, unfitting lab equipment (at least for an asylum), the lone, flickering light up ahead, the suffocating smog of cigarette smoke...

And yet somehow, its ugliness was incredibly charming. It took hard work to be this tacky. The Gambler nodded his head in approval.

And at the very least, a certain doctor in Halloween Town would be fond of it.

Still, that did leave the boy suggesting they search the rooms (which, judging from the lack of cohesion in where the good doctor had left his files, that would be more difficult than originally assumed) and his earlier behavior. Luxord turned away the desk he had wandered curiously up to, gloved hands brushing against its surface as he did so, and calmly sat himself on top of it as he watched the other. "Is something the matter?"

[From here.]

Round a corner, and they were facing two rows of doors. Each had a tidy plaque slotted on the top listing the doctor's name and the office number. End of the road for tonight. He prayed that if Luxord had any special powers at all, that it wasn't super hearing or mind reading or empathy-something or any number of talents that would clue him in on just how terrified Peter had become in the last five minutes.

He shouldn't be scared. He was the one getting the drop on Luxord, not the other way around. He was going to shut him in an office, grill him about Grell, and make sure that he never so much as looked at Brainy again.

Yet now that they were here, Peter wasn't sure he could do what it took to guarantee that.

Butler Bad Vibes (and pretty much every adult superhero he'd met ever) told him that the only way to make certain was to kill them. Peter couldn't do that. He'd rather die himself than kill. This wasn't like the zombies or that thing Dr. Connors had made from his blood. Luxord was a human being, or something close to it. He was alive and could think and those other things couldn't. Even when Harry spoke, it hadn't been him. He was some evil thing's puppet and he'd already been dead for days. Peter couldn't blame Indy for doing what he did that night.

The other option the Butler gave was even worse: leave them alive, but cripple them. Blind them, take off their hands, break their spines. No. A million times no. Peter might have beaten up crooks and megalomaniacs in his spare time, but that was more to subdue them until the police or S.H.I.E.L.D. came to take them away. He liked to think he wasn't cruel about it. He'd only sent two people to the hospital before and broken Keman's arm during Special Counselling, but those were accidents. He never aimed to break bones or anything, just for a clean knock out or enough to let them know they were beat.

Except that wouldn't cut it here. There were no police. No help. This place was just a notch above being in a prison anyway, and the nurses would never believe Peter if he tried to tell them.

Oh man, he should have asked Brainy if Luxord had any powers before something like this happened. He was so stupid. Peter had his strength (barely), but would that be enough? If he was going to fight him, he had make sure that Luxord knew it'd be a bad idea to cross him ever again. He had to take the fun out of the gamble.

Sweet Mother of Spock, he was in deep shit.

Luxord would know something was up if he hesitated much longer. Peter steeled his nerves. He could do this. He'd think of something. He could think while they ransacked the office.

"You like games, no? Pick a number between one and eight."

Once again the doors had opened. Cloud believed most of what Yuffie had told him, but it was still unreal the way this place operated. They were clearly being tested, mocked, or both with the nightly routine, yet they didn't have many other options but to take the chances they were given.

Still unarmed, but hopefully ready to deal with anything, the blond nodded a goodbye to his roommate before stepping out into the hall with nothing but his flashlight. Yuffie's room was in the single female block, which was on the other side of the block he was currently in. It wouldn't take long to get there, but knowing that creatures could attack the patients even within the patient block caused him to keep his guard up right from the start.

[to here]

[from here]

So far, so good; Junpei wasn't feeling any compulsion to go someplace he wasn't intending to. It was a relief to know that Evangeline wasn't going to vampire him to her side that night, despite the implications from earlier. Then again... what if where he was heading was where she wanted him to go all along, so it just didn't feel like a vampire compulsion?

Oh man, this whole vampire servant thing sucked. Junpei wasn't even sure if he'd be able to tell when Evangeline decided to call him to hold her hair while she prayed to the porcelain god or something worse - carrying her damn books.

[to here]

The intercom jingle went off, mirroring the cheery voice that came out of the speakers soon after it.

"Hello, everyone, and I hope you found productive endeavors in both your music-making and your therapy sessions! Now, our nurses will be escorting all of you to your rooms and to your delicious dinners. Tonight, we're serving moist slices of turkey breast covered in gravy and served with mashed potatoes and grilled artichoke. Also available are our usual salad and drink choices, as well as a to-die-for devil chocolate cake dessert!

"...Mm, yes, I do think I'll have to partake in some of that myself! I trust you'll all enjoy it as much as I do, and I'll speak with you again shortly!"

The intercom clicked off.

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. ]

The mere fact that she'd been susceptible to whatever hold the Institute had had on her yesterday was sufficient to leave Ayumu both upset and angry - no, not angry, downright furious, both at herself and whoever was responsible for that. But there was also the fact that because of it, she'd lost out on an entire day of work, and in several ways had ruined some of what she'd done already. That little conversation with Himura the day before, for instance, was something she'd sincerely prefer not to remember if she'd had any choice in the matter.

Unless the man was a complete moron, which, unfortunately, was one thing she couldn't believe of him, he had to have realized just who her brother was. After all the effort to keep that fact quiet (not exactly a secret, but certainly not advertised; half the Shinsengumi probably never even realized it because there was no reason to) she'd gone and chatted about it with him. Told him all about it, practically painted a bright target around a weakness that shouldn't have existed in the first place.

She'd spent the shift in the Sun Room pretending to sleep, while in truth forcing herself into calm. After years of practice she could shunt away the useless and distracting emotions, focusing only on what was important and needed to be at the forefront of her mind, and by the time the intercom signaled the lunch period she was feeling considerably calmer. The time to silently observe others had, as well, alerted her to something she probably should have noticed earlier: Mello was back. Would her previous objective be reinstated now? He seemed to have far less of a bulletin presence this time, so perhaps not. Still, though, it bore investigating.

None of her thoughts were visible, of course, as she moved through the line, examining the lunch selection somewhat dubiously. Now with the benefit of Yuuko's memories she might recognize the food, but she certainly didn't share the enthusiasm for it that her imaginary self apparently had. Ayumu skipped past that part and settled for the salad bar and some bread, then positioned herself in a place where she could watch both the door and the rest of the room, setting her journal open in front of herself as though planning to write something. There was far too much that she'd missed, too much work to do now.

[for Okita]

Peter woke up suddenly, his body twisting in the bed and then forcing him to catch his breath in pain. Pain, which was coming from his middle because of the thing that had scratched him last night, and after that...

After that, Zach had jumped in front of him like some kind of martyr, like the exact opposite of everything Sylar stood for, to take the next hit for him. It got pretty fuzzy after that, so night must have ended right around then.

The man let out a pained grunt as he straightened himself up in bed. For some reason, he got the feeling that he'd slept in. There was no way for him to really tell without a window in the room, but he just knew. The fact that Sam's bed looked long since vacated was another clue.

Sam, but was he Sam again? Had the brainwashing worn off, as he and Roland had hoped, or was he going to have to go through this nightmare for even longer? He didn't know how long he could handle "Zach" and "Harrison" before he started going batty himself.

Pulling himself out of bed, Peter lifted his shirt and saw that he was tightly bandaged. The scratch most likely wasn't nearly as bad as the bite that "Zach" had received, but it still smarted. He let his shirt fall and then had to deal with a nurse chiding him for sleeping through the morning announcements. Not that Peter really cared at the moment. He was too busy thinking about last night and the fact that in a way, he now owed something to Sylar. Except it hadn't been Sylar. That was something he was sure of now.

Lost in his thoughts, Peter reached the Sun Room right as the rest of the patient populace was trickling in from breakfast. Sighing to himself, he headed over to the bulletin board and then saw a note written in familiar yet unpleasant handwriting. Holding his pen in a vice grip, Peter scribbled out a reply and then stalked over to an armchair and fell into it with a huff.

While Sylar was maddeningly frustrating, there was one good thing about the fact that he was himself again. It meant that Nathan was too.

[For Spock!]

For the second time, Rika found herself waking with a start. She blinked at the grey light streaming through the windows, and looked across the room. Anise was still asleep. So. I'm still here. Let me just check...

Rika put on her slippers and walked over to the desk, checking the drawer and breathing a light sigh of relief. Good, the knife was still there. She wasn't sure why it would be there - shouldn't they have confiscated the weapon? Either way, though, as much as she was reluctant to use it, she was glad to have it still there.

Just then, she heard the creak of the open door, and quickly closed the drawer. Her nurse peeked in, whispering, "Rachel? Time for breakfast. You should put on a sweatshirt, it's a bit chilly." Rika nodded, quickly adding the extra layer and following the nurse out into the hall and to the cafeteria.

She was used to a Japanese-style breakfast, so the idea of something sweet - which the nurse was avidly describing, with the waffles and fruit and syrup - was a bit odd. Once she walked in, though, she had to admit it smelled good. She filled her plate with waffles topped with blueberries, some sausage, and eggs, took a glass of orange juice, and took a seat. It seemed she was early, so she took a seat close to one of the windows and waited.

[For Ange.]

[from here]
Oh, so this was the hall he needed to be in. At least, he was pretty sure it was the right place. If he remembered right, the man on the bulletin board talking about Search and Rescue, his name was Phillip Hunt. If there were only two people in a room, though, it shouldn't be too hard finding him.

Allen shone the flashlight up on the wall, following the numbers. M14, where was M14...

[moving down to here]

[from here]

Junpei found himself a spot not too far from the door leading out to the hallway. Seriously, if Yukari waned the damn Evoker, she needed to run her mini-skirted ass down here to get it since he wasn't going much farther. It was only fair since he'd trucked down to her block last night.

Setting the bag of stuff on the floor, he leaned against the wall after adjusting the Evoker in the waistband of his jeans. He was not happy with having lost the t-shirt he'd had last night, forced to wear the smiley one again, even if it was turned inside out. He sighed and looked down at the square bandage on his arm. Vampire. He'd been bitten by a vampire.

Just to make sure, the junior checked his teeth. No fangs. Good. He probably would have freaked out if he'd found any. Still... curiosity got the better of him and he peeled half the bandage off to look at the bite. Twin puncture wounds with some redness about them. He poked it.

"Ow." Poking it was not a good idea.

[Hey, Yuka-tan... got any garlic?]

The intercom's jingle signaled yet another announcement.

"And our excellent behavior continues! Well, I am extremely impressed indeed!

"In any case, it's time to stop our socializing, unfortunately, and for the patients to return to their quarters for dinner. Be aware that new roommates have been assigned due to our influx of new patients and discharged old ones, so please be hospitable should you find yourself with someone new!

"As for dinner itself: tonight, we'll be serving shrimp and vegetable tempura along with delicious chicken teriyaki. Yum, yum, yum! As sides, we will also be serving boiled, salted soybeans, rice, and of course the appropriate soy and tempura sauces. Our regular assorted drinks and vegetarian substitutes are also available.

"I hope you enjoy your meal!"

The intercom clicked off.

[ All room threads go in response to this post; please post your character's room number as the subject line of the initial post. Find new room assignments here. ]