[from here]

When the group charge through the locked door and into the room, Ema stumbled forward a few extra feet (a combination of a lack of grace and the science of inertia). Once she managed to steady herself, she looked around the room to try and determine the scale of the information gold mine they had just broken into. Even with her limited eyesight, she could tell that the room was fairly large--larger than she had expected it to be. That was a promising sign; maybe Morgan and Lana were right. Maybe this was where Dr. Landel (or General Aguilar, now) stored all of his data. It seemed a bit sloppy to her, storing all of this information in a room that was easily broken into, but Ema wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. They needed data. This place seemed to provide plenty of it for them to work with.

Hopefully, the data would actually prove useful. Ema wasn't quite so naive as to believe that the three of them were the first to break into this room, not with men like Mr. Javert or Mr. Edgeworth on the case. The best she could hope for was that a few fresh sets of eyes would catch something different. Lana was a detective as well as a prosecutor, Ema a scientist, and Morgan surely had his own perspective. They could come up with something amongst them, right?

Turning back to her sister and Morgan, Ema stated, "Agatha's fake name was Marie Clay. I never learned Kay's." Morgan likely wouldn't care, but Lana would know why the names were important to her. After a pause, she added, "If there's released patient data in here. If there's not, we should learn what data is in here." Scientifically speaking, it was better not to assume anything before Lana or Morgan could confirm it. Ema would go investigating herself, of course, but she was pretty certain that she'd be little help.

[From here.]

This hallway seemed a bit larger than the last, although it appeared to have fewer doors on each side. Byrne tried the first door he came across and it opened without any trouble. Hm. So there was actually something they could get accomplished here.

But before they actually entered any rooms, the prosecutor wanted to take a moment to comment on Badd's tale thus far. "So von Karma was the one responsible for DL-6, was he? Surprise, surprise." It took them this long to figure it out? It should've been sooner, much sooner. Admittedly, Byrne didn't know how the old snake could've been the one - the exact case details were pretty fuzzy right now - but even so, hearing he was responsible wasn't the biggest revelation on the face of the planet. C'mon, it was Manfred von Karma. That guy was a creep, enough said. "Who got him?"

[From here.]

Thank god, this hallway was deserted. Much better than the drama that was going on behind them. Byrne stopped for a moment to take a good look around. This time there was more of a difference between the layouts of the different floors. He could see only one open hallway from where he was standing; a door was positioned where a hallway would have been on the first floor. That was Byrne assuming he remembered the first floor layout correctly, which he was fairly sure he did. Anyway, that door might be locked, so it was probably in their best interests to check out the hallway first.

He turned back to his partner and nodded his head. "That hallway looks like a good place to start." And...oh, right. The story. Did he have to bring that up again? Couldn't they just drop the whole thing, y'know, pretend all that bad stuff wasn't gonna happen? Then again, Badd would bring it up whether he liked it or not, so it was pretty useless trying to avoid the subject. Sigh. "And you can start over now. With uh, I guess the part with Cohdopia going into civil war. How did that happen? And what was the deal with von Karma, again?"

[from here]

"Through the stairs, and then down a hallway," Maya said as she continued, then glanced back to see if Arthur was following. "These stairs—"

Or...not. Where had the stairs gone? Trick of the light, perhaps. Flashlight light; she'd walked right past the stairs when the beam of her flashlight had been aimed elsewhere. Of course the stairs were located to the right of her; she had no excuse for being addled about such as this, of all things. "—These stairs," she repeated, once she'd finally located them. "My apologies," she added perkily, as if it weren't her fault at all. Flashlights could be quite the dastardly things.

[from here]

Tolten tried to seem confident as he took the lead, proceeding further into the dark corridors. There had been nothing overtly threatening so far, but his heart was racing in his chest even so. He couldn't shake a sense of lurking danger, of shadowing hidden fear. He tried to tell himself he was being foolish, but experience told him otherwise.

This reminds me of the sewers. Though hopefully there would be no failed experiments lurching about, hell-bent on human flesh.

And thoughts such as those will not calm your nerves. And now he was no longer alone, and he was bound by his honor to look after his companion. He couldn't allow himself to give over to old fears and childish worry. They would find an exit of sorts, find someone possessed of the means to help them, and... well, that was as far as he'd gotten but at least it was a plan.

The corridor widened suddenly, and Tolten faltered to a stop. He held up a hand and swung his torch in the opened space, taking in the change in surroundings.

[From here.]

He had reached the meeting point in less than a few minutes and there was still not another patient to be seen. Castiel paused, standing near the wall as he moved his flashlight up and down the corridor. There was nothing, not the sound of a shadow slipping through the dark; not the whisper of something less than human.

The only sound was the static that periodically came from his radio. He couldn't seem to get it to let up, and he wondered if it was reacting to him or if he'd been given a faulty one.

He would have preferred the former option, but he had been knocked down too many notches when it came to the loss of his abilities, his divinity, the very things that made him him.

Castiel let out a breath that had been caught in his chest and then lowered his flashlight. He wondered how long this whole process would take, but he supposed that all depended on how well he did as a student. He fashioned himself a fast learner, but he had never been able to grasp things like popular culture.

He imagined he would do a bit better with lockpicking, though. Leaning himself against the wall, Castiel stood there quietly, waiting for Orihara to show himself.

[For Izaya.]

[From here.]

As Castiel exited the room block he'd been assigned to, it occurred to him that Gabriel had not caught up with him this time around. That was for the best. He had a difficult time shaking his brother off in this place, seeing how he couldn't disappear at the snap of a finger. If he'd had to bring his brother along on his lesson with Orihara, Gabriel would have broken up the instructions and also invited far too many questions, considering his paranoia from the other night.

He had little idea of what the archangel got up to on the nights that they didn't come across each other, but at this point he couldn't get caught up pondering about it.

Straight down the hall and he would be at the spot that they had decided upon. He still had no idea of where Orihara's room was, but perhaps it was better that way. Their relationship should remain strictly professional, especially since he didn't really know how to turn it into something other than that.

This was easier.

[To here.]

Once again, dinner had passed by quietly, though Castiel could not complain about some solitude, even if it was spent in the company of one troubled teenager. He had gotten by with only a few bites of the food, the "Tasty Meal" from earlier having done an adequate job of sating his hunger.

And food would be the last thing to consider now that the lights had gone out and the doors had unlocked. Everything was silent tonight, and yet Castiel had to admit he preferred it that way. His roommate, the intercom system -- while a speech from the General might have granted them some more scraps of information, in this quiet he could truly focus.

Which was why he was able to collect his flashlight and radio within seconds, reminding himself once more of how he needed to arm himself better. That was something he should have asked Dean about, although it would be a hit to his pride to admit that he was the only who needed advice in this situation.

There was no place for pride, however. The next time they spoke, he would ask.

But it was another human entirely who he was meeting tonight. While he still knew very little about Orihara while the young man knew entirely too much, it was one of the few connections he'd made here and he needed to exploit it.

Castiel gave a small nod in Stefan's direction and then left the room and stalked down the hall.

[To here.]

Despite the rough start and the heavier snowfall, the buses managed to stay on route and on schedule. With minutes to spare, they arrived at the gates of Landel's Institute, back to the waiting arms of the military. All pretenses seemed to drop at this point, and the soldiers again took on their patented gruff exteriors. Patients were filed out of the buses in an orderly manner, eventually being escorted to their rooms for dinner in much the same. There, as promised by the personnel, well-behaved patients found their purchases among their returned possessions. A few even found new faces, though whether they brought as much joy as bought goods remained unseen.

The woman manning the intercom seemed to have missed the notice about the day's trip as her announcement remained no different from the usual. "Attention all subjects and personnel," she said. "Lights Out will commence within the hour."

A pause.

"I repeat, Lights Out will commence within the hour. All personnel: please report to your stations. The General will begin his address once preparations are underway. Thank you."

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. ANY NEWLY ACCEPTED CHARACTERS MAY POST TO THIS SHIFT (but are not obligated to if you would like to wait for Nightshift or Dayshift); please refer to the new room assignments before posting. Thank you! ]

As the day came to a close, Claude's conversation with Tear weighed heavily on his mind. All the implications hadn't quite sunk in yet, but it unsettled him that she'd been able to feel and experience his time in the basement in such a strong way. Was there some kind of significance behind the fact she'd lived the moment he ran toward Guy in a panic? Maybe it was because Guy was Tear's friend. Or maybe it said something about Claude himself.

He wasn't sure he'd ever move past what happened that night -- not as long as there was a chance it could happen again, and not as long as Guy's memories remained incomplete. He'd never gotten a chance to patch things up with Dias, either, and Claude supposed he'd never get the chance now.

On top of that, he hadn't seen Leon at all today.

As a result, he was in low spirits by the time he made it to the bus. He cooperated with the body search and let the staff take his batteries once the "nurse" explained he'd get his things back later. Once that was done, Claude stepped onto one of the large vehicles and took a seat.

It would have been nice to find Guy and spend the ride back talking with him, but it looked like he picked the wrong bus again. Inwardly sighing, Claude leaned back and gazed out the window.

There was so much snow outside. He still remembered all the golds, reds and oranges of the autumn leaves the first time he came here. That seemed like years ago now. What would his life be like by the time the first sprouts of spring appeared? What would happen to the rest of his friends?

He didn't know, and that scared him on days like these. That didn't mean he could let it consume him, but it was difficult to shrug off like it was nothing. At least the scenery in Doyleton gave him something different to look at...

[Free!]

Window shopping--no, that was too lofty a word to be used with this quaint town. Looking at things all day (yeah, that worked much better) was all well and good until the chilly air became less than bearable. With the sun sinking into the earth, the shadows grew across the sidewalk and made pockets of frigid air. The redhead groused with each shadow she passed through. Frankly, this whole day had added to her grouchy mood. It was cold, she was wearing the most unflattering pair of jeans, and this jacket! She looked like a fat pink bird!

Horrible! This whole day was just horrible. The eva pilot couldn't even find a place worthy of her money. They had no beauty supply store, and what little the nail salon sold was just pathetic. So instead of buying anything worth her ten dollars, the second child decided to drown her sorrows in something containing amounts of chocolate and grease. Tasty Burger certainly had the grease part down, but Twin Pines had a better variety of heart clogging entrées.

Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one in this town with that line of thinking. There was a line and Asuka refused to take a table. She would sit in a booth, so there! Giving her name, the young girl found a seat at the entrance and waited as patiently as she could.

[Mein sugar daddy!]

After lunch with the downright gentlemanly Facilier, Rapunzel made her way back down the street ("Wicker", apparently) to a place that had caught her eye on the way earlier. She might have stopped there before, but between her need to get directions from passers-by and the rumbling in her stomach, she figured it could wait for later.

Well it's later now! she thought, her pace quickening as the bright colours from the window of Lil' Tyke Toys came into view. It wasn't necessarily the toys Rapunzel was interested in - though, she did wonder what kinds of dolls and puppets they had (were there any ventriloquist dummies, maybe?). No, there was something else that had caught her eye. She was sure she had seen... Yes! Yes, she had!

Ohmygosh candy!

Behind the toy displays in the window was a whole counter with piles and piles of candy in every shape, size and colour on parade. Candy had become a rare and treasured thing in Rapunzel's tower; Mother Gothel always said it was too hard to find, and too expensive, too. But sometimes, maybe for a birthday, or a random summer's day, or after a particularly bad fight, the older woman would surprise her with small sugar or honey candies - from where, she never said, but Rapunzel had never cared. They were just good.

You'd almost think she loved me sometimes.

Rapunzel instinctively bit down on the inside of her lip. No. She was not going to let her memories ruin this. She forced herself to breathe in and out a few times, hands pressed against the storefront window. Her grin, only gone for a half-second, returned. With an inadvertant squeal, she pushed open the door and headed inside, where she immediately started walking the counter up and down, peering at everything with childlike glee and trying to figure out what was what.

[Show her you can be a better mama than Gothel ever was, Claire. ♥]

 
Matt was leading the way to the grocery store; it was easy to tell what was what here, thankfully. A really simple town, so far as he could tell, and the best bet he had here from the looks of it was the grocery store.

If they didn't have his smokes, he was screwed.

Mello could follow as long as he wanted. It wasn't like Matt was going to just fall over without a moment's notice; no, he'd been zombified, but not much else seemed out of the ordinary today. No voices were constantly rambling in his head, no little angels or devils making a cozy little workspace out of his shoulders. He wasn't seeing things that weren't there, and he wasn't in dire need of swallowing a couple fresh brains.

He didn't feel like a total zombie, at least. He still had his good old nicotine craving, after all.

Which was refusing to take a backseat any longer. It had been at least a good twenty-four hours since his last cigarette, and Matt felt like he was going insane. His right hand wouldn't quit twitching, and his irritability was meeting its all-time max; he wasn't sure how much longer he could go around letting Mello hover over him without ripping someone's head off.

So inside the grocer's he went, glancing behind him at the blond he figured was planning to follow him around all day. "Coming?"

It was a serious decision he faced, and, since he couldn't talk to Matt privately, Mello spent most of the bus ride in sullen contemplation of it: would his dignity suffer more from eating inferior chocolate, or from having to go to a toy store to buy the decent stuff?

In the end, he concluded that the annoyance that'd be over with the faster was the one he could deal with better, and he took the lead when he and Matt got off the bus, walking slowly towards the store. He didn't have any intention of having this conversation where they could be overheard, and he definitely wasn't going to have it surrounded by the local brats whingeing for a toy or a sweet, and he waited until they'd put some distance between themselves and the other prisoners before speaking.

"I ran into some dumbfuckery in the hall. Otherwise, I would've been there. You know that." He knew Matt was one of the few people on earth who would've been able to translate that as an apology, and, given the circumstances, Mello didn't mind for once. His steps slowed further; he was aware of the soft sift of falling snow, its crunch under his boots, and his question came out hushed and low. "How bad was it?"

[for his heterowhatever lifemate]

Waking carried a sense of disappointment along with it for the first time in a long time. Klavier actually sighed in irritation when he realized where he was. Damn it all. So they hadn't managed to move quickly enough to cover as much ground as they had hoped. It was a shame, really. Last night had actually proven to be relatively productive. If they'd had the chance to continue on for longer, they might have been able to gather a lot of very good information. That was probably the point. As it stood, however, maybe he shouldn't be all that unhappy. It's not as though he came away from it completely empty-handed, after all.

He sat up just as "Lieutenant General Berg" was making his announcement regarding the day's proceedings. So they were still going on this scheduled trip of theirs, hm? Strange. He'd never understood the point of these trips, and it made even less sense now with the new management. Maybe there was actually some kind of point to these trips that he hadn't been able to grasp just yet. That none of them had. Hmm. And... they were giving them access to money? Granted, it wasn't terribly much, but it was still more than one would expect to be allowed. Why would they be encouraging them to actually buy materials?

These mysteries would have to wait, it seemed. Shortly after the announcement finished, Klavier's escort from yesterday entered the room, dressed in a hospital uniform rather than anything even remotely military. Without waiting for any kind of question or greeting, the man simply nodded at him and handed him a bag with his change of clothes and supplies, telling him to be quick about changing. ...Huh. It seemed the routine hadn't changed at all despite everything else. Looking down at the contents of the bag, he could see they'd decided to go back to giving him the thrift store, grunge-rock look rather than that ugly monstrosity from last week. Not that a mismatched plaid shirt and worn jeans made all that much better of an option, but... Well, at least he wouldn't look like some sort of derelict this time.

After changing and putting on the ragged jacket and black gloves provided, Klavier followed his escort to the usual set of buses. He wasn't exactly happy about going on this trip again, especially since it just dug up a mess of horrible memories. But he went along with it quietly, determined to play the part of the observer on this trip. This opportunity came about only once a week, and he wasn't going to give them any excuses to keep an extra close eye on him. He was actually in a surprisingly calm state today. Not chipper-looking, but collected enough. Much better than how he'd been most of the week. Though he was still positively famished. Which was why the calm mask completely slipped when he was actually handed a paper bag... of food. Normal food! He almost could have snatched it from the man giving them out. He hadn't actually had any kind of proper meal in days. Mostly his own fault. And now in the face of real food, he could feel it all that much more severely.

Not bothering to be picky at all, he climbed into the bus, took one of the first seats he spotted, and immediately opened the bag to start eating. He didn't even care how he might have looked while doing so. Forget propriety. He was starving. And this... This was... The best. Muffin. Ever.

[for the stupid demon-child]

[from here]

He'd seen pins whose meaning he wasn't certain of, on other people's berets, a sword and shield the main one. Given Aguilar's fixation on results, and on the prisoners' proving their worth, Mello had to wonder if they'd be seeing a weeding-out of those who hadn't faced ordeals deemed worthy of pins. He was both disturbed and strangely comforted by that tacit admission of what really went on here. The face of evil showing itself, but when it did, at least you knew what you were dealing with. Mello had always counted hypocrisy as one of the worst sins; he'd never tried to act as if he were anything other than what he was.

"I know I pissed them off." He looked back again, giving Mordio a skewed grin meant to show he was proud of this, and he was; he'd done it deliberately. "This morning. I refused to clean."

He looked over the railing as he walked along beside it, and held up a finger. There was... something down there, where the sun room should have been, an undulating, dark mass, and he spoke quietly when he spoke again. "What the hell's that?"

[from here]

No one else was up here yet, at least not in sight. The hall off to his left still seemed almost to pulse with the unnatural quiet, as if it were a dark blot on Mello's mental map of the place. He didn't so much as swing the flashlight beam towards it; he turned quickly away, heading for the closet where he'd got his pipe. It seemed so long ago. He was back to not being properly armed. His gun had only had two rounds, yes, but it had felt damn good to have even those.

"I didn't get any of my shit back tonight," he said, glancing back at Mordio. "When did your ring show up again?"

His flashlight would do for now, as it had done other nights. What he was interested in were the chemicals he'd noticed in that storage area, and those other doors off that hallway. He knew by now that an explosion alone wouldn't suffice for the purposes of escaping, but if--when; the slip was irritatingly automatic, but his correction just as much so--he discovered the nerve center of the Institute, the place he assumed had to exist, where the person currently in charge monitored and controlled all the nighttime idiocy, he definitely wanted brute force as an option.

[from here]

No sound came from inside the stairwell, but that amounted to little at times. Still the Digimon stretched her senses, moving quickly and quietly into the dark. None were in this place yet, despite the small crowd in the hall below. It might mean none have moved upstairs, or it might simply mean they were quicker than she.

All in all, the silence was stiffing, and reminded her too much of a presence in dark wisps creeping over her. That had been at the top of these stairs, hadn't it? Quite a few things had been stationed there, in the end. She'd do well to be cautious.

Ritsuka had feared this would happen. When he returned to his room for dinner, the other bed had been empty. It wasn't the sort of empty that happened when someone simply wasn't there yet, but the heavy absence of a space mourning its owner. Ritsuka had felt this void before, far too many times, and it never got any easier. His roommate, whom he had never gotten the name of, was gone and now he ate alone. It was the first time since he'd arrived that he was actually completely alone in his room and Ritsuka felt the silence bite into him the longer the shift continued.

He missed Tamaki. He missed Nataku. He even missed the boys he hadn't been able to talk to for one reason or another. Their mere presence had been a comfort to him, but they were gone now and all that remained where the fading memories of the time they'd spent together.

He ate what little he could of his meal and then shoved the tray aside. It had taken some time until he realized what the metal container was for, but when he'd found his camera and backpack missing, he'd turned to the box - and found it. So they knew the patients had contraband. They knew everything and they did nothing. The realization made his heart ache and tears of anger burn his eyes. Why would they do this? Why would they keep hurting people?! What reason could ever justify this?!

Taking his pillow, he threw it against the wall and that was when the intercom turned on. His head snapped up to toward the speaker and he screamed at the man who sat silent on the other side. "Why do you do this?! What is wrong with you?!" There was no answer of course and Ritsuka deflated, hugging his knees to his chest, eventually forced to cover his ears with his hands - both ears, because as soon as the sun set, his feline features returned. The man spoke and Ritsuka screamed at him to no avail. There was no way the man on the other side could hear him, but that didn't stop him from screaming anyway. He hated him. He hated the people who forced his friends to go through this. He hated the people who'd taken Alfons and Miku and Soubi and everyone else away. He hated them...

But his hatred wouldn't change anything. It only brought tears that wouldn't bring any of his friends back or save anyone still here. It did nothing, and that was the worst realization of them all.

Wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Ritsuka grabbed the shears from the box and continued his usual ritual of cutting a hole for his tail in his pants. The beret had fallen off somewhere in his tantrum, but he let it stay wherever it had gone. With his ears back, it wouldn't fit anyway and he needed them to be unhindered considering where he was going. His hearing was back and the ache was gone, but the memories of the dangers that lurked in the halls would never leave him. Picking up the backpack and checking the supplies inside, he exchanged the shears for his flashlight and then stopped.

He wanted to leave this empty room, but he'd promised he'd wait for a bit for Ippo to show. He'd promised... With a heavy sigh, Ritsuka set the backpack down on the floor next to his desk. He would wait for awhile like he said and then he'd leave a note if things took too long. He had to keep his promises, since so few people here ever did.

[M35]

[From here.]

All righty. First one here. Surprise surprise.

Peter took a thin breath and took up a post across from the hall, where he could watch both entrances for the gang. His arms crossed and he leaned against the wall. The whole thing was rather broody-looking, to be honest. Not the kind of chipper attitude you expected from a guy dressed like a cast member of Cirque du Soleil.

He was allowed to have bad moods. They happened. He hadn't started the night in one, but he'd tripped into it easily enough on his own. That sort of thing happened when your life sucked this much, okay. There was no sanctuary from the suckage. He sighed yet again. It'd be easier to perk up once somebody else showed up. Then he could push his mind away from all of this garbage and pound some small talk out of it.

Not to mention that waiting out here alone in the big hallway was twice as creepy as it was moving alone through the little ones. His flashlight swung back and forth. Please don't let anything be creeping on me in the dark. Please please please...

He was so not in the mood for whatever monstrosities were lying in wait for him. And knowing Landel's, they were.

[For the Platonic Family!! Y'all know who you are.]