Claire woke up in her room just like before, with little idea of how she actually got there. This time, though, she noticed something different about the room. There was another young woman, a blond, sleeping in a bed across from her. Before questioning that, though, she made sure to hide the items she'd gotten that night in her closet, shutting the door and making her way back to her bed just as a peppy nurse walked in.

She cheerfully explained that now, all patients had roommates -- and then made an obviously practiced speech about how they were all to get along. After getting through that, Claire was given the option of where she'd go that morning.

Claire wasn't really a religious person -- sure, her parents had taken her to church when she was younger, and she still sometimes went on the major holidays, but that was it. She didn't really pray or go to confession or anything like that. Still, after last night especially, she was craving something relatively normal. Anything close to home. With that, she asked the nurse to escort her upstairs.

It seemed she was the first to arrive. Just as well. Claire sat in one of the pews, in the middle on the inside, as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the silence.

(from here)

Down the stairs, into the hall. His chest hurt so much. Blood was starting to bubble between his lips.

"Sora... need to stop for a minute..." They were passing by a door. Things were enough of a blur that Renji wasn't even sure if he got it open, or Sora. The room seemed empty. That was all that mattered. He staggered inside and dropped to his knees so he could put Nowe down a little more gently, propping him against a wall. Renji bled freely from the wound on his shoulder; he'd almost forgotten about it, somehow.

Nowe was bleeding too, quite a bit.

"Can you... get a light on him?" Renji asked Sora. He needed a better look at Nowe's wound. "You did good, Sora," he wheezed. "Did real good. Proud to have you with us."

[ From here. ]

Nowe proceeded up the stairs cautiously, checking ahead of him constantly for any sign of the huge sword-dragging beast that Kurosaki had described. He saw no sign of it immediately and felt it safe to keep going, reaching the top of the staircase without incident. He looked around him. The hallway was familiar, certainly. He could see the way they were headed from here, just barely, a shadowy corridor several yards away from them, unblocked by a door this time.

He turned around then, to make sure he was being followed by the rest of his companions, not daring to call out in case he attracted the attention of whatever that monster was.

If there was one thing Rufus Shinra had had enough of, it was Landel’s twisted monsters. Blood was drying to a tacky mess across his back, the two strikes the woman with the hot iron had gotten at him enough to make him regret fully going upstairs. At least it was a learning experience in that he knew better now. Going upstairs meant taking at least someone else with him.

After the way tonight had been and the damage he’d taken so far, Rufus gave serious thought to returning to his room, barring the door, and hoping nothing got in there. His shoulder and arm had settled into a mass of pain, the scent of burnt him still hanging around him. His cheek throbbed where that woman’s weapon had caught when going down to that blow on his shoulder. He hadn’t felt any blood when he’d touched it, but the skin there felt burnt.

Leaning against the wall as he stepped off the last stair, he stayed quiet, listening to the night. The question now was go back to his room or stay out here. They needed weapons still, and if Reno were babysitting Elena, the Turk wouldn’t have much of a chance to get anything. Then again, he’d been wandering since the doors opened and accomplished absolutely nothing.

Damn it.

Eyeing the halls, he sighed to himself. As good as it sounded to just go back to his room and try to be safe, he had to help his people. Reno needed his EMR and Elena… well, who knew what weapon he could find for her. Something had to work. Ahead of him were three directions that he could barely see. Left, right, or straight ahead.

What he wanted was his flashlight, damn it. He was so billing his Reno for one. For now, he listened, waiting a few moments before deciding. Whatever direction sounded the most dangerous, he was promptly taking the opposite one.

[ From here. ]

Cid figured this was as good a place as any to wait for his comrades and try to sort his own self out again. He leaned against a wall, pressing the back of his head against the wall and breathing. They needed a new plan-- was all turning out so pointless, as if sitting on their collective asses would be just as productive as running around during Nightshift. And less painful.

Still, hell if Cid was going to let things happen without himself playing some large part of it. He'd wait for a while, but if no one familiar showed up... fine, he'd try something himself. Splitting up was a smart thing to do, right? More information to get, more materials to find...

Of course, that strategy never really worked out too well for the people in horror flicks, and at this point, Cid was wondering if he wasn't one of them.

Nowe was only slightly cheered by the thought of getting to meet up with Renji and Sora this evening. His conversation with Kadaj had gotten him thinking, and despite how good the food smelled he found himself unable to eat.

Caim was here. Weakened. If there was any opportunity to exact his revenge, this would be a perfect place, wouldn't it? He just needed his sword, or any other half-decent weapon. The chances of happening to come across that, however, were slim to none. Nowe decided to not even mention it to Renji and Sora. If he were to attack Caim, he'd want to do it himself without any outside help. For now, his best course of action was to keep roaming around at night with his companions, and if he came across his sword...

...well, he'd see how it went from there.

For now, he just had to wait for his two friends to arrive and push the thought of Caim out of his mind, like he'd done with all the other despairing thoughts he'd had since arriving at this dreadful place. Leaving his food abandoned, he draped the towels they'd collected the previous night in the waistband of his pants, looping the shoelaces he'd gotten around his wrist. He looked rather silly, but having something that was at least potentially useful on his person made him feel somewhat less vunerable than with nothing but the clothes on his back.

He opened the door to his room and stepped into the hallway, closing the door again behind him as quietly as he could. He glanced a few doors down to Fayt's room, checking to see if the blue-haired boy would make an appearance. He didn't seem to be there. Maybe he'd already left. Oh well. Nowe leaned against his door to wait.

Ichigo was only too eager to leave the cafeteria and its fresh memories behind when the softened chime of the intercome rang clear. What had begun as another ordinary meal, a rather agreeable one despite the lack of the proper utensils, quickly became somewhat unnerving. His conversation with...what was his name again?...took so many sharp turns, he should've felt dizzy. It was easy to feel a little sorry for the guy, though; surrounded by stangers in a very strange place, it was hard to blame him for being so alarmed.

The Sun Room occurred as a more enjoyable choice to spend the time; he had nothing against music, but something about being surrounded by some of the most unruly characters he'd ever met, each of them armed with cacophonous weaponry, didn't sound smart. Once his nurse departed, the young man picked out a cozy little spot near a flood of sunshine and settled in, cradling his head in the palms of his hands. There, he stared up almost bitterly at the ceiling with sharply focused eyes, still exuding the same unapproachable sense of being as ever.

The room was warm, even a little comforting, for any of the tired, weary masses found in Landel's halls, or even those who just craved a little peace and quiet. All he could hear, from end of the room, were soft footfalls and hushed voices. That sounded just fine to the 'berry head.

Hikaru and Kaoru had been so caught up in their little game that they initially hadn't heard the intercom go off. The new "ding" system was far less jarring than the old SCREECH, and as such, wasn't as easily heard, even in a place as quiet as the library. All too soon, the nurses came to separate the twins and take them to the next activity--lunch.

It only felt like a few minutes since breakfast, somehow, and yet Hikaru was starved. The lunch selection was ridiculously Americanized food of the "Pan Asian" genre, as bad as when his family had wanted Japanese food in California and had gone to the "nicest" restaurant in the English language guidebook. He cringed visibly when the surly cafeteria worker poured sauce on his rice--which was supposed to be plain--but...food was food, and he wasn't feeling terribly picky right now. At least it smelled all right.

One of the good things about being the first one into the cafeteria was having his pick of the tables. Hikaru chose one of the larger ones, saving seats for Kaoru, Tamaki, and (in a fit of hopefulness) Haruhi.

He hoped they'd come soon. He hated being alone.

Renji wasn't certain how he'd gotten from the room with Sora and Nowe back to his bed. He scrambled up and quickly checked; everything that he'd tucked into his clothes was still there, including the trauma shears and the start of the map. He quickly hid those things wherever they would fit - and not be too obvious. Hopefully Nowe and Sora had been safely returned to their rooms as well.

He didn't like it. He really didn't enjoy feeling even more like a passenger in his own life.

The head doctor, cheery on the intercom, was seriously getting on his nerves. Then the nurse showed up to collect him. She was annoying. He was quiet, and shuffled obediently after her, all the while contemplating just how good it would feel to punch any of the nurses, but this one in particular, in the back of the head.

Again, no rice. He got himself eggs, sausage, and toast, as well as a glass of juice. He sat down somewhere he'd have a good view of the door and started picking at his food.

Renji walked as quickly as he could and still be quiet, listening with all his might for both trouble ahead and trouble behind. After passing by a couple doors, he found the set of stairs on the right. He'd had a dim idea that they'd be there; he'd walked past them on his way to and his way back from his little chat with Dr. Wilson. He just hadn't been paying attention all that well at the time, since he'd spent pretty much the whole way having the shit annoyed out of him by the overly cheerful nurse. Renji resolved to pay better attention from then on, annoying nurses or no, since during the day would be the best time to get a feel for the layout.

But anyway, they were there, and that was the important part. He gave Nowe and Sora a grin and headed up the stairs.

There wasn't a brawl going on at the top of this set of stairs. That was always a good sign. So, one goal met. They were on the second floor.

Now, which way to go.

((Coming from here))

Being in the lead was not something Rufus Shinra was at all happy about. He was used to being behind his Turks and letting them deal with whatever nasty hopped out of the darkness at them. Unfortunately, he found himself saddled with younger people, none of which he trusted to be in control of the situation. That left only himself… and his trusty inkpen for stabbing if something jumped on them.

Somedays, it just didn’t pay to crawl out of the crypt.

Reaching the top of the stairs, he glanced left and then right. Hallways went in both directions as well as one ahead. Flicking on his flashlight, he shone it in all three directions before glancing back to the others. Just how many of them actually decided to come with him wasn’t something he’d checked on until now.

“Any preference in direction?” he whispered.

Sora felt a lot better after his chat with Roxas, even if Larxene had temporarily interrupted it. For one thing, seeing Roxas again had relieved a huge burden - and his Other had even assured him that Kairi was most likely fine and probably not even present in the Institute. As much as he missed her, Sora knew it was for the best that she was back home and not in so much danger.

At least he had a plan for once! He had really enjoyed his conversation with Nowe that morning, even if that Lyta woman had been a bit pessimistic, to say the least. He remembered the other boy's room number (he'd written it down in his journal), so after a wonderful dinner, the Keyblade Master quickly quit his room and made the short trip from M7 to M26. It didn't seem like any of the patients in that particular hall were out and about yet. Either that, or they had already made their way somewhere else.

It was best, in his case, that there weren't any distractions. He easily located M26 and knocked on the door without hesitating, keeping an eye out for anyone or anything as he waited for an answer.

(coming from here)

Rufus wanted his longcoat as he walked down the empty corridor. The air wasn’t chilly exactly, but he craved its folds of protection. What he wanted more was either his guns or Reno’s EMR. While he didn’t know how to use the latter weapon, he could hold it until he saw Reno tomorrow. If he made it that long. Kadaj had spoken of there being another Kadaj before. Did that mean that if he died that another Rufus Shinra would be here tomorrow? One from another time or place?

Listening as well as he could, Rufus paused between the nurse’s station and the stairs. While he doubted the door to the nurse’s station would be open, it never hurt to try. Laying a hand on the knob, he gave it an experimental twist, wincing already in preparation for an alarm or the like to go off. That would be just his luck. If it was locked, he was going to try to head upstairs.

So far he’d managed to avoid Barret and his friends as well as the remnants. Perhaps it would be a better night than last. He’d never put much faith in Fate. She enjoyed making his life miserable at the most inopportune times far too often.

Usually, Sora would have been overly excited about making gingerbread houses. It was exactly like Christmas Town, after all, and he had good memories of that place. (He'd gotten to meet Santa! What was better than that?) Unfortunately, he wasn't in the best of moods. Landel's had that strange quality of being able to upset even the most optimistic of people.

It had started with running into Saïx the night before. The Nobody had mentioned Kairi being in danger and Sora still hadn't been able to question him about it. Trying to talk to his doctor about it had also been a complete failure. And he'd missed lunch because his therapy had run too late.

So, hungry and unfulfilled, Sora glanced around the empty arts and crafts room. He got the feeling that once again he wouldn't see any of his friends enter after him. Not Riku, not Roxas, and Naminé was always busy...

At least he had made a few new friends. Nowe seemed really nice. So did Ginji and Kurama. And if he kept at it, he could probably make more friends. It was just hard to focus on that when he was so worried about his other friends.

Slumping into a seat, Sora started to snack on some gingerbread. He was so hungry... And this would hopefully keep him sated until dinner. And then it would be back to nightshift. He was growing sick of the same routine.

While Arts and Crafts wasn't all that bad, Gray Fox was greatly relieved when an intercom announced Lunch. He had almost reached the point where he was going to start eating more of the building materials.

Hamburgers. Not his first choice but he was by no means about to complain. Keeping his eyes on the so-far empty room, Fox made his way over to start the line and get his burger. Haphazardly picking out what he wanted to be on it. He wasn't a very picky eater, and, truthfully, he didn't think it was possible for a FOXHOUND agent to be a picky eater, at least, not after survival training.

The food actually did smell very good, despite coming from a cafeteria, and a hospital cafeteria at that. He took a seat that was near one of the walls and very quickly started in on his burger.

It had been difficult to figure out how many patients there were, since more had continually been brought into the arts and crafts room from somewhere else, but now, he had the feeling he'd be able to see just how large the patient population was.

And that man who looked like Snake would be here as well, hopefully.

Scar felt as if he'd passed out as soon as he'd gotten to his bed due to the admittedly strong fatigue and pain that having a badly injured arm tended to cause a person to feel, even one as conditioned and battle-worn as the stern-faced Ishbalan. He woke up feeling rested but regretful, and his fear that he'd wasted a Nightshift ripe with the possibility of discovered items and means of escape was confirmed as the intercom's metallic voice came forth and a bright-faced nurse opened the door and beckoned him towards the burly orderlies who were supposed to take him to breakfast.

The Ishbalan frowned a deep, dark frown. He wasn't quite sure if he could count the shameful number of days that he'd spent like an animal in a cage, and at this point, he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

He'd been tired lately, after all; perhaps some of the sentiment of hopelessness that certain other patients tended to exude was contagious for those who had seen more than their fair share of life and its losses. But no; simply wading in self-pity was no way to get things done; to use one's own self-loathing and use it as a motivation in the struggle for redemption--that was the salvation that Scar truly sought. Last night had fallen victim to physical exhaustion, but tonight he would increase his efforts tenfold to make up for the lapse into lethargy.

First, however--pancakes.

The days of the breadbasket seemed to be long gone as Scar entered the near-empty cafeteria with some feeling of foreboding that he was the first one to get his meal and sit down. He'd gotten pancakes and sausage, and more than a few fruits, not for the fact that he especially trusted the food here but for the fact that fresh goods had been few and far in between upon the harsh lands of Ishbal.

Scar's red eyes darted from the nearest nurse to the main entrance, and with hunger and thirst that no logic could quench, began starting in on the food.

Nowe was disappointed. His conversation with Fayt had been interrupted suddenly by the voice through the metal box on the wall, and then his nurse had abruptly been escorting him back to his room rather pushily. He was greeted by the sight of dinner, which he was glad for. At least the food in this place was decent. When you were on the run as much as he and his group was, you didn't always get much in the way of choice foods. He was also minimally cheered by the sight of a pile of candy corn on his tray. He ate a few of them and pocketed the rest, flinching when the intercom came on. Again the voice on the other side had changed, turning into something far darker, more sadistic. Talking about some "war"... Nowe looked up sharply at that. Could he know about...? No, Nowe very much doubted that the voice meant the war in his world from 18 years ago. There were too may people here from different worlds, it was doubtful he spoke of that one. The man, whoever he was, was clearly insane.

The door clicked loudly, and Nowe stood up and tested it, noticing that it pushed open easily like it had the first night he was there. He turned back to his bed, digging around and finding the light-creating device from before, clicking it on. He then recalled the monster that had attacked the previous evening and decided to not draw attention to himself immediately, clicking the light off. He also came across a small metal box, not unlike the one in the wall, but smaller and with a few knobs. He stared dubiously at it and then put it in the pocket that didn't contain his candy corn, and then stepped out into the hallway, looking for signs of life. If he could just find someone...

What he needed was a group, like Kadaj had suggested. A group of people he could rely on. But he and Fayt hadn't had the chance to exchange room numbers before they'd been dragged off to their respective rooms by their nurses. Sighing, Nowe decided he'd just have to wander for now. Perhaps he'd run across another friendly face. Maybe he'd run into Caim again.

The last thought made him scowl. Caim. No, Caim was too distrustful. The man wasn't the kind of person Nowe could see himself hanging around.

It would be best if he could find Fayt, it seemed. He'd just have to hope the blue-haired boy hadn't wandered off elsewhere by now.

The day had been a long one. Roy groaned as he stepped into the Game Room - he hadn't even eaten at lunch, too distracted by Elena's discovery and then Greed's (and his own) outburst. A nap sounded fantastic, but he doubted his body would cooperate and actually let him sleep, as tired as he physically felt.

Somehow, he couldn't help ignoring the thought that if he wasn't part-homunculus, he would be even more fatigued.

Surprised to see he was the first in the room, the colonel figured he would actually make use of the facilities. He had to dig around a bit, but he eventually found a chess board. Smirking to himself, he sat down at a table and unfolded the set, placing the pieces on their proper spots.

He ran his thumb and forefinger over the white king piece. It was a goal he'd been pulled away from, but he'd get back to it. There was no doubt of that.

Then again, how would a half-homunculus Fuhrer be received? Especially after the entire fiasco with Bradley...

It was better not to think too hard on it. Roy started to play a practice game against himself. If someone else came over and wanted to join him, that would be all the better.