Other than catch a glimpse of a few book spines and the first floor, McCoy hadn't gotten the chance check out the store fully. He'd still managed to uncover a few interesting things before he left. It wasn't exactly the answer, or even close to it, about how to get out of here, or what they had planned for them, or even who these people really were. What it did give them was just a little better picture of what they were dealing with. Venkman had been his usual self, complete with the sarcasm and sass, but he'd also said plenty.

It did tell him that the staff wasn't as unified as he'd thought. 'Course, Venkman could just be the odd man out. That fact wouldn't surprise him, considering that personality of his. But supposing that the other doctors weren't completely fooled by the whole charade, or if they weren't fully on-board...

It was raining more heavily by the time McCoy left the building. As much as he wanted to stay behind, where it was dry and he wasn't flirting with the flu, he had his orders. These grounds weren't going to cover themselves.


[For Jim]

It was starting to rain by the time Jim finished giving out his orders for the coming night, as well as the go-ahead to split up and investigate. McCoy gave Jim a nod before he headed off. The air was even colder now, water splattering onto face and shoulders.

The doctor hunched his shoulders and hugged the brown jacket closer to him. Any longer and he'd be soaked to the bone. It'd be a perfect breeding ground for a nasty cold. He wasn't about to get one if he could help it. Being sick during an away mission wasn't at all acceptable for a medical officer, and he wasn't about to lay himself out in his room if he could help it. They had plenty to investigate and, seeing how this place operated at night, plenty of people who might need help.

McCoy ducked inside the nearest building, warmth washing against his chilled face and body.

Only one more patient to see and the week would be over -- in a manner of speaking, that was. Her official work would be ended, but tomorrow? Ah, tomorrow. Unless the schedule was changed (and why should it be?) tomorrow the patients would be on their field trip to Doyleton. Wandering about town with some pretense at freedom, and right where she could see them. Approach them. And, perhaps, find something, or someone, to provide some small amount of amusement in what would otherwise have been a rather bland weekend.

Still, though, there was that one more patient. A new patient, no less. And female. Though so many of her patients thus far had been terribly disappointing, Makiko still held out hope with each one. Even when temporarily lessened, soothed by a brief, hasty snack, her hunger gnawed ceaselessly and demanded more. More, more, more always more and her choices were sadly lacking here and even more so in town.

She stabbed at the 'play' button on the CD player, then frowned at the song which began to play and quickly advanced to the next track. There'd be none of that, that merely reminded her of home, of what she didn't have now. No. No point in regretting; all she could do was establish herself here. For now, she'd just wait for Miss Jones to arrive.

The week was almost over, and hopefully the next would be back to normal; Makiko rather disliked having her routine disturbed, even when said routine was as newly established as this one was. All of her annoyance disappeared, however, as soon as she heard the news that morning. Dr. Burroughs had apparently left, her patients distributed among the remaining doctors, and the one assigned to her? One Matthew Derringer.

Even the fact that it was another one of those ridiculous doubled sessions couldn't bother her at the moment, not with news of this nature. This "Violet Cloud" would either be interesting or she wouldn't; it was promising that she finally had another female patient, though, and she did have some hope. But Mr. Derringer, the younger brother of Eric Derringer, could be very, very interesting indeed.

She set the two files on the desk before her, carefully and neatly side-by-side, then lowered herself into the chair and absently hit the "play" button on the CD player. The faint sounds of Chopin's "Fantasie Impromptu" drifted into the air as she paged through the files, lips pursed thoughtfully as she awaited the first of the pair.

The nameplate on her desk wasn't quite even. Makiko frowned at it as she returned to her office for the afternoon session, then paused to put it back in the right spot, carefully aligned with the edge of the desk. It must have been knocked askew by her morning patient, he of the smart mouth and aggravating attitude. No matter, though. She'd dealt with him, and now with the mess he'd made, and it was back to business as usual -- even if her temper was all the worse for being denied the opportunity he'd given her.

There was a new patient this afternoon, though Makiko had greeted his file with somewhat less enthusiasm than some of the others. Luke Howard had little interesting about him, and he seemed quite content to leave it that way. Still, though, her opinion could change once he walked in the door; she had to keep her mind open and reserve judgment, without letting her mood affect her thoughts.

She turned the CD player on in preparation for the young man's arrival, grimacing slightly at the annoyingly inspid concerto that began to play, then put it out of her mind. She flipped open the file to read it over once more, ignoring the faint demands of gnawing hunger within. Hopefully he wouldn't be too tedious to deal with.

Someone old, someone new, Makiko mused, looking at the schedule for this shift. Mr. Riedel would be returning, it seemed, and wouldn't that be interesting. She certainly owed him for the week before -- no matter that the broken nose had healed before even her next session that day, no matter her own slight revenge, the fact remained that he'd broken it. And that simply couldn't be allowed.

The new one, though, she knew nothing about, except for the fact that he believed himself to be living in a setting directly out of science fiction. It would be best to save any judgment for when he actually arrived; she'd already had that proven enough here so far. Those dismissed as uninteresting might prove to be otherwise, as the session with "Ritsuka" just yesterday had reminded her. Still, though, it would be nice to have a female patient. Someone with a bit more depth to them.

To complete her usual ritual of preparation, she turned the CD player on, not really paying attention to what was playing. She pulled a pad of paper onto her desk and began writing, waiting for the nurses to escort the next patient into her office.

The next session with Mr. Derringer should be an interesting one indeed, Makiko mused as she settled in her office for the afternoon patients. The groundwork was laid, after all, and now she knew exactly how to proceed. It was sad that she had to make preparations for such a sub-par specimen as he was, but - well, unplanned efforts had resulted in her seeking the transfer here, rather than staying in the hospital in which she once worked. Best not to repeat that.

Today's schedule, though, included two patients: one old, one new. Jordan barely interested her at all, but she did admit herself curious to see just how last week's talk had affected him. Such a fragile little thing he was, so easy to shatter. And as for Andrew...well, she saw little potential in the file before her, but supposed she could always have some hope. As long as the session didn't completely bore her, she could manage.

She set the CD playing with a light tap on the button, then turned back to the files for her next patients, reading through the pages as she waited for them to arrive. Words on paper did little to tell her about what kind of people they were, but what background she could get was useful, and she needed to review the notes from last week.

The extra day off had been a bit of a surprise, explained to her apologetically by the Institute staff as a last-minute schedule change. Despite the fact that such a change would have little to no effect on her plans, if there was anything that Makiko disliked, it was something unexpected. That in and of itself had been sufficient to put her in an unpleasant mood by the time she'd arrived in her office that morning, but once she'd arrived she found there had been even more changes to her schedule, and nobody had seen fit to warn her of these ones before she'd laid eyes on it.

It seemed that some of her patients had been released - released, already, and without consulting her? These were her patients involved here, didn't the administration understand that? She'd not be able to make any progress whatsoever without any kind of set regimen, a fixed schedule in which to work. This was simply intolerable; even with what she'd been given she'd been anticipating this week's sessions, a second opportunity with certain of them (she could almost taste the bitter tang of fear on her tongue, even more bitter now with the knowledge that that person was now out of her reach) and now she had to start over with several patients.

The only consolation she could find was that the first one for today was a certain Eric Derringer. Even though he certainly wasn't her usual target, he was still at least somewhat entertaining to bait. If she didn't have to spend the entire session listening to someone whine about their paltry problems, then at least it wasn't a complete waste.

She pushed a random CD into the player and punched the "play" button with considerably more force than necessary, barely even noticing the music as it began. After a moment to school her features into her standard calm, impassive mask, Kisugi Makiko opened the man's file and began to read over her notes from the previous week, mentally filling in some of the gaps with her experience with him in town. He should be arriving any minute now, and she had no intention of him seeing her in anything other than complete control.

The sun was starting to set, and it was with a heavy sigh that Edgeworth stepped out of Twin Pines and out onto the street. The tea had helped, but there was still a sense of worry that he couldn't shake. There was, of course, the entire situation with Franziska, but now both Javert and this new person calling themselves 'Justice' were in the picture. Had it been a bad idea to reveal that room information? Possibly, but as far as he could tell, it had gone unnoticed. There was only one way to find out now.

...and on top of all that, there was Dahlia Hawthorne to worry about. She was high on his list of least favorite people, but so far, he hadn't seen her personally. He tried to push the thought out of his mind as he looked around, but couldn't shake the worry entirely.

[closed to Phoenix and any cute things he may have in tow.]

[Forcefully escorted from here by an orderly/nurse team]

That was the one good thing about pretending to be a drunk - they thought you were already intoxicated and if there was anything they probably learned in med school, it was that it was a bad thing to be mixing alcohol with medication. Probably the one thing that saved him from getting his ass sedated and dragged to a bus whether he wanted to or not: the next best thing they could do was manhandle him there, one orderly's bruising grip around his arm to, he guessed, keep him upright, the other forcefully on his shoulder as they hustled him out of that grocery store and through town to the buses. Despite how much he swayed, staggered, and generally tried to slow this down, he saw no sight of Sam. The kid was good.

Sooner rather than later, Dean found himself being deposited in one of the bus's seats, and he remembered to slouch over on it, slumping a little as if it was hard to keep awake and watching from half-closed eyes as the orderly walked away, waving away the stench of the cheap beer wafting from Dean's sodden clothes and heading up to the front of the bus. Dean didn't straighten immediately, letting his head loll on his shoulder as he glanced out the window - it was getting dark, usually when the monsters in the closet began to come crawling out. Dean knew they were in a bad place, in a bad way, but without an arsenal at their disposal, Sammy and him were not much different than the civilians out there: they'd all taste the same to the monsters.

This morning's session with Miss Waterhouse had been a risky one, but Makiko still felt what she'd gained had outweighed the risks. It did mean, however, that she'd need to be even more cautious for a time, no matter how tempting today's patients might end up being (if they were, which she currently doubted - they were both men, after all). It wouldn't do to bring suspicion on herself when she'd only just started here, and hadn't had the time yet to establish herself.

She retrieved this afternoon's patient files from the drawer where she'd put them earlier and frowned slightly. Two of them. In one session. Most irritating, that she'd have to rush them, but at the same time it would hopefully prevent her from getting bored with one before the other arrived.

The first one should be arriving soon, though. She arranged the pair of files in the center of her desk, almost unconsciously aligning them parallel with the edge, and reached over to turn on the CD player. Whichever one was first, she was ready for him. Soon enough today's sessions would be over, and she could begin to prepare for next week.

According to the schedule, it would be another tedious day of listening to her patients' uninteresting concerns. A couple of those she'd seen this week had proven to be more interesting than she'd expected (and she had plans for Mr. Riedel at their next session), but still Makiko Kisugi held no hope that the trend would continue. It rarely did back at home, after all, and here she had far fewer patients to see, even if the Institute did insist on double-booking her appointments. The odds of finding gems amidst the trash weren't terribly high.

She'd obtained the files for those on today's schedule on her way to her office, and once there the doctor settled into her chair, arranging the trio of folders into a neat stack in precisely the center of her desk before starting to flip through them to remind herself of who she would be meeting today. Two men this afternoon; neither of them seemed to stand out in any particular way, and their gender was against them when it came to piquing her interest. The other, though - finally, a female patient.

Makiko absently pressed the 'play' button on her CD player as she leaned back in her chair, studying Emily Waterhouse's file with the beginnings of some interest. She'd have to wait to see the woman before making judgment of any kind, but perhaps she'd at least be able to get some entertainment out of this one. Perhaps there would even be the potential to assuage the hunger that nagged at her near-constantly.

It had taken some time to set her office back to rights after the visits with that morning's patients, and the sharp tang of cleaning solution was still rather irritatingly obvious in the air. It was fortunate that she'd had a spare shirt to change into, but she had been forced to borrow a clean white coat from the staff; it didn't quite fit right and smelled subtly wrong, uncomfortably so. All in all, the minor inconveniences were piling up and leaving Dr. Kisugi rather less than pleased.

Well. She'd just have to make certain it had been worth it, the next time she had a session with Mr. Riedel. At least her nose had healed now, and all traces of blood washed away.

Still, though, she had one more patient today, and had best be prepared. She set the file for Mr. (or was that "Doctor"?) Ashcroft in the center of her desk and began to page through it, reminding herself of the details of his particular case. Hopefully this one would be more interesting than some of her other patients - or at least more willing to talk.

The files for today's patients were waiting on Makiko's desk when she arrived, left in an untidy-looking heap that drew an irritated frown from the doctor. It was a pity she hadn't yet had the time to deal with the nurses here as she had back in the hospital at home - none of them would have left her office in anything but a pristine state, not if they wanted to remain comfortable in their employment.

Ah, well, the things she had to put up with in return for lying low for a time. Such as, for instance, dealing with such incredibly tedious patients. She frowned at today's selection: not only was she supposed to deal with two in one shift, she'd been assigned another pre-teen. And all three for today were once again male, so it was unlikely there would be much of interest about them.

She sighed inwardly and poked the 'play' button on the CD player with slightly more force than necessary, then settled back to skim over the files before the patients arrived.

The minor disorder caused by her first patient of the day had been set back to rights: the notepad and pencil jar were where they belonged, the crumpled and scattered papers in the trash, and the chair back exactly centered opposite her desk. Makiko examined the note the man had handed her and wondered briefly just what "Christo" meant to him, then shook her head, tore the bit of paper into thirty-two neat and exact squares, and dropped them disdainfully into the garbage.

She had a new patient to worry about now, so dismissing the last one from her thoughts, she moved on to the file of one Nicholas Blake. He was quite a bit younger than those she usually saw (odd assortment of ages in this place, wasn't there?) but some of the notes on his background looked...potentially interesting.

Though the rest of her assessment would have to wait until she actually saw the boy, of course. Makiko exchanged the disc in the CD player for another without really looking at it, then pressed 'play' just before the nurse rapped on her door. Hopefully this one would prove to be more entertaining than the last.

It was her first day of work in a new facility, but Dr. Makiko Kisugi wasn't feeling nervous at all. To the contrary, all she felt was a sense of anticipation, an eagerness to see what opportunities might arise in a place such as this.

She was far from home, though, and so painfully new that she'd not dare take too many liberties as yet. As little as she liked the idea, now was a time to exercise caution, to play the doctor for the sadly deluded and likely uninteresting masses until she'd established sufficient power to act.

The files she'd been given, though - some of these looked. Well. Almost interesting, if only for the fact that they all seemed to be suffering from similar delusions. They were almost all male, though, which was both disappointing and potentially a good thing; generally speaking men lacked the indefinable something that would spark her interest (and hunger), but perhaps she'd be able to amuse herself at the least. Time would tell.

Makiko tapped a button on the CD player on her desk, flipping idly through the file for her first appointment of the day as a piano concerto began to quietly play. At the sound of a rap on her office door she glanced up and called out a crisp, "Enter," to the nurse. This must be Mr. Derringer now.