The wind was whipping hard enough that S.T. decided not to take his burger back outside. Eating dirt was all well and good on camping trips, but there was a roof and chairs that weren't too sticky right here. So he sat down at a table and started doctoring his burger with shelf-stable squeeze-packet mustard.

There weren't as many patients in here as he'd expected. How many of them were sick? A lot, if the number that had found their way to the bulletin in the grocery was only a sample. All of them trying to fake being O.K. until they lost control and ate their roommate. Their lack of appetite (for food, at least) was showing, though. People rarely thought about the things they did from day to day and what impact they had. These burgers had been trucked in, the ketchup had probably been grown in Mexico, shipped as tomatoes to China, processed and shipped back to the US. If this was Earth, yada yada. Maybe Landel just opened a portal and snagged stuff by the truckload. In which case they'd have to add how much damage interdimensional travel did to the ozone layer to his list of sins.

Either way, it was boring in here with no one to talk to. S.T. tried folding the aluminized paper from his burger into an origami boat, but it had absorbed too much grease, and sagged.

[free]

[from here]

Taura took up station midway between the two halls leading back into the dormitories. Alone with her thoughts; the hall was quiet. Too quiet. Dead quiet, a little voice hissed in the back of her mind.

This was no time to be getting superstitious. It was unavoidable, really, in a profession with so much risk involved in daily operations, that those who survived found things to credit. Beyond their own skill, because they'd all seen better men/women/herms when their luck ran out, and skill only improved your odds.

Her luck was holding, tonight. Was Rita and Goku's?

[Rita and Goku]

[from here]

Taura didn't let heavy thoughts drag her footsteps down. She was around the corner and down into the main hall in two long strides.

[to here]

[from here]

Taura was passing the door to the bathrooms when a thought occurred to her. Could that have been what Okita had been worried about? Did he know something had started? He hadn't looked especially well, come to think of it, but he'd never looked terribly energetic, except in the middle of a fight.

But if he'd known this was coming, why hadn't he said anything? He didn't have to use his own handwriting -- if he'd wanted to, he could have let them all know that something was coming without tipping his hand.

Or it could be something else. Politics. Loyalties. She hadn't expected him not to have any, but she wished he'd been willing to explain. Did he think she'd be disappointed? Maybe she would have, a little, but she would have listened to what he had to say. Did he -- no, he didn't think her unworthy of trust, but perhaps he hadn't been able to turn that same regard to himself? Or maybe it's just embarrassing, Taura.

[to here]

Taura paused, before heading out, to take a good, long look at herself. Metaphorically speaking; she didn't turn the flashlight on for this. She felt...good. Better. The zombie infection hadn't even left a scar. There were a few tiny ones on her lips, where Rita had had to fight her off, when she'd been possessed. Other than that, the only thing that hurt were her ears, which were starting to be less difficult to get the earrings through, but not yet easy. She was a little hungry, but dinner was never big enough, and what she wanted was a nice, well-cooked steak, or a vat of chocolate mousse. Not anything else. A little anticipation fluttered in her stomach, but if she hadn't had that, then she'd worry.

It was just...it wasn't like her luck to avoid something like this. She ran one hand over the other, feeling the chipped polish and the soft, squishy nails underneath. She'd gotten one truly lucky break in her life; another was more than she deserved.

[to here]

What an unproductive day this was so far. Doing nothing but sitting on a couch, watching the bulletin board and thinking too much about things...if only his injuries weren't keeping him from getting some decent exercise. (If only he hadn't let himself get injured, period, but...)

This shift, Zero was left with nothing to do but sit around, without the promise of a useful conversation like last shift with Nigredo. It wasn't like his other option was any better, though. Showers, already being a waste of time as they were, just sounded very uncomfortable, if not impossible, to do while wearing a sling and a cast. So when his chatty nurse came up to him at shift change and tried to get him to follow her to the showers, the once-Reploid refused to budge. She seemed surprised at his refusal, tossed a few 'why not's and 'we can do this and this to protect your bandages so they won't get wet's at him, but he stubbornly shook his head at everything she said. There was no way he was going in there in this condition. Too much effort for no gain. Why did getting clean matter so much, anyway? It had only been a few days since the last time he'd bathed. It didn't matter.

Thankfully, the nurse took pity on him (only because of his injuries, he was guessing) and gave up trying to persuade him to move. She left him alone with his thoughts, and the once-Reploid carefully reclined on the couch and lay his uninjured arm across his stomach, staring up at the ceiling.

... He supposed some quiet time to think wasn't all bad. He was feeling much better emotionally than he was this morning, mainly because he'd had time to let recent events sink in. Zex and Ema's fates had hurt at first, but by now he'd managed to channel most of that hurt into more resolve to fight. His conversation with Nigredo had helped keep his mind off of things and was enough to leave him wondering for awhile, even though figuring out what to do about Landel was more important than that right now. And, he had a new self-assigned mission for tomorrow via the bulletin board - to assist Ema's sister Lana in any way he could. Not to mention he'd learned about the existence of a town outside of this place....

...Alright. On second thought, the day was not as unproductive as he'd been thinking it was. Didn't mean Zero wanted to spend the rest of this shift just lying here, but at least he could say the times he was doing so earlier in the day weren't a total waste.

[free!]

Last night had been a nightmare. That had to be what it was, but Ilia couldn't deny reality. In her anguish, Ilia had slept through the first half of the day plagued by nightmares. In her dreams she saw Rose's broken body all over again with Gamzee standing over her, his club raised to strike again. Somewhere, she could hear Martin Landel laughing.

Much like the battle last night, Ilia was overcome by her powerlessness. Was she really so useless? Why did it have to be the children who suffered pain and death? Why was she left alive here? She didn't wish for her own death, but if she could have given up her life to save Rose... But nothing could be done now

Ilia had failed to save an ally in need. If only her Captain could have been here, then just maybe his uncanny luck and drive might have saved them. He had a miraculous touch that could solve anything. Ilia now understood why she would never be on equal footing with him.

Miserably, Ilia roused herself at her nurse's insistence that she come eat. She didn't take a moment to brush her hair or wash her face. She just followed along as directed, trying to ignore the hallow feeling in her chest. Ilia wasn't hungry, but she took one of the bags offered to her and trudged to the bulletin. She addressed a few notes then added one herself. It wasn't the prettiest note, but Ilia couldn't produce the level of prose that Rose deserved. Instead, she wrote it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. Short. To the point.

Her task done, Ilia found seat in the corner and sunk down into the cushion. Burying her face in her hands, she concentrated on breathing. She couldn't face the sun today.

[For her children Claude and Anise]

_[free]

The call for minors to head to the showers saw Tsubaki carefully folding up her clothing in front of an empty locker before putting the pile inside. If what the Head Doctor and the staff were saying was true, it was probably good it was a shower day--washing off would help keep the bug at bay, whatever it was.

Tsubaki hoped that what they were talking about was just the flu, but she couldn’t help thinking that was wishful thinking.

It was practically empty in the showers, so Tsubaki had her pick of shower heads. She chose one a little to the left of the door and stood for a moment with her arms wrapped around her chest as she waited for the water to turn warm. Many of the underage girls’ faces were familiar to her after so long in the Institute, but she wasn’t sure how old some of her new friends were. If they were in the same age bracket as her, she hoped she could say hi while she had the chance, but least she knew Rapunzel was okay--the girl’s long hair had been an unmistakable landmark at breakfast. Tsubaki had had to leave their room before Rapunzel had woken up that morning, but being that they were roommates there was always dinner time to catch up.

Taking some shampoo in her hand, she started washing her heavy curtain of hair. With luck the day would remain as peaceful as this.

With all the threats Landel was making, though, who knew what was going to happen.

Perhaps simply claiming 'I don't care' to her nurse was a mistake. Lust found herself in the 'games room' at a handsome table with a sandwich containing nothing but cheese. But following the greenhouse, she honestly hadn't cared one way or another where she was shuttled off to.

Talking with another woman had done little. There was so much to think about and so little desire to. What did it really matter? So the dead could walk here, she'd already known that. So he was here, so what? She had lived many years without even knowing the man existed, there was no reason his presence should shake her so.

And anyway, she would see him again tonight. Perhaps he'd be more accepting of the situation then.

But for the moment she was going to push those thoughts away. She needed to lay her information out in an order that made sense to her. Ignoring the deck of cards her nurse had given her and the instructions to 'make some new friends', Lust opened up the blank book kept in her room and stared at a blank page.

Where in the world would she even begin? Explaining things at breakfast had helped her some, but...

"Even madness begins at the beginning," she muttered as she bent over the journal.

[Loki!]

Even if he hadn't eaten much, the time to himself had helped improve Barnaby's overall state of mind. Despite the grueling insomnia that had plagued him before his arrival, he felt remarkably well rested now. Maybe he didn't agree with all of this Landel's Institute's methods, but there was no denying that he was much more stable than before.

Of course, he hadn't managed to shake the knot of unease tightening in the pit of his stomach, nor the restlessness that seized him when he thought of all of the recent revelations concerning Ouroboros, as well as his own recollections of that Christmas Eve nearly 21 years ago. Ill or not, he didn't have time to sit in a hospital right now. He needed to talk to Mr. Maverick.

Studying his bare wrist, Barnaby inwardly sighed as he stepped out of the cafeteria. Though his knee-jerk reaction earlier this morning had been to assume that someone from Apollon would get in touch with him shortly, he realized that he may not be in any state to continue with his hero work. The fact that the doctors had deemed it necessary to confiscate his PDA said more than anyone here was willing to tell him to his face.

That didn't mean they had a right to take his cell phone, though. Unfortunately, when he asked about it, his nurse thought otherwise.

"Like I said, Mr. Banks, this program doesn't allow for outside contact with friends and family except under specific circumstances," she reminded him.

"Brooks," he flatly stated.

The nurse blinked. "Excuse me?"

"My name isn't Banks," he corrected her. "It's Brooks -- Barnaby Brooks Jr." The nurse glanced down at her clipboard and nodded in understanding.

"Of course it is, dear," she said in a tone that conveyed that she was just humoring him. Barnaby's fingers curled into a fist at his side, but otherwise his face remained remarkably composed.

"I understand if you feel the need to downplay my presence due to my occupation," he spoke in slow, measured words, "but you'll have to excuse me if I find your methods extreme and, quite frankly, unnecessary." Combined with the Head Doctor's poor excuse for an announcement a few moments ago, their conversation just made Barnaby conclude that this facility was being run a bunch of incompetent morons. Barnaby had no intention of causing a scene, but he wasn't going to just roll over and let the staff treat him like a child, either.

"That said, I'd like to look at the paperwork that was signed the day I was committed here," he stated, his shoulders squared as he look his nurse right in the eye. "I should know what my rights are."

"I'm afraid I don't have the authority to do that."

"Then put me in touch with the person who does."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, either."

Frustration welled up inside Barnaby, and he took a small breath. He couldn't wait to get in touch with his attorney later. "Then what, exactly, can you do?"

The nurse smiled. "Take you to the recreational field, of course. The other male patients are there now. Wouldn't you like to make some friends?"

Barnaby folded his arms, his cool gaze falling onto a bulletin board located along the wall. "Actually, I'd rather stay in the sun room and read what's over there, if you don't mind." He didn't catch the flicker of disappointment on the nurse's face, though he wouldn't have cared much even if he had. As long as he wasn't hurting anyone or himself, they didn't have the authority to dictate how he spent every second of his time.

"We do allow patients to stay here during activity shifts, so I suppose you can do that," she said, albeit a bit reluctantly.

Barnaby nodded. "All right, then." With that, he made his way over to the bulletin and began to peruse through the notes. Perhaps he'd learn a little more about this place and how some of the other patients could even stand being here.

[For Renamon!]

Needless to say, her night was a bust.

It wasn't that Ramona was trying to turn it into an absolutely safe evening in which she got nothing done. A part of her wanted to test the limits of her abilities and see what she could actually do in this place, but outside of the absolute confirmation that subspace was no longer a go, she couldn't bring herself to go much farther. Scott's words hung over her heavily. The fact that he had made it clear that he was going to continue being as affectionate as possible wanted to remove any chance of her dealing with anyone. So, though she hit another hall, she turned back around and headed back to her room. Ramona was the type of person who sometimes preferred sulking with company, but that wasn't on the plate for the night. (And she didn't want to call it sulking, either.)

She wasn't certain when she fell asleep, but when she woke up, she was sure the people in charge here had some kind of fast-forward button that they could hit whenever they got bored. That was definitely not the entire night, nor had it been the night before. Sometimes night just ended. Of course, Ramona could appreciate the need for a scene change. This place was already running on enough lame clichés to last it a lifetime. Sometimes they need to return to the daytime status quo to hit reset.

That all said, she was getting the feeling that her own waking up process was a little boring. Ramona was glad that her hair was short now because it made her feel a lot less neurotic about the lack of allowed primping. She cast a glance in the direction of her roommate's bed before she plodded out after her nurse. The woman was kind looking, which, of course, meant that she was evil. Then again, anyone could be evil. Ramona just wanted everyone to be evil right now.

(Maybe she was still sulking.)

"We've noticed that you haven't been socializing as much, Sandra," the woman said while grabbing her attention, and it was as if Ramona finally clued in that a conversation was supposed to be happening. Great, she was fitting the bill for crazy on top of incredibly irritated already. The nurse was definitely evil. And maybe a bitch, with the way her fingers freed her shoulder and she stepped back, snorted softly, and gave a shake of her head. "It's always when you're new that it's hard," the nurse added. "And we can tell you're rebellious."

"Wow, it's been a while since someone thought I was a punk rocker. Don't worry. I can socialize," Ramona assured her as she hit the cafeteria. But it looked like she was one of the first arrivals.

Ramona decided she'd get the woman off her back by grabbing a tray of food and not sitting too far from it. At least people might stumble upon talking to her if she looked available enough.

(And hopefully, that someone wouldn't be Scott. Even though she highly doubted his ability to get out of bed, he seemed to acclimate to this place enough to make an appearance with his face and his smiles and his stupid "I love you"s.)

[for America]

[from here]

Taura pondered the announcement she'd just heard as she jogged down another empty hallway. Who was she? Jill? Who he'd tortured himself, though that could have been an act on her part as well? Whose side had she been on? And what could have happened to her that would be permanent?

Death was usually pretty permanent, but even that had its exceptions around here. Taura didn't have to like it to know it was true; what had General Aguilar done that could change that? And why was Doctor Landel so angry?

It was an uneasy thought to stomach; revenge drove people like nothing else did, and being one of the people in between was a hell of a way to go.

[to here]

[from here]

Taura's legs were long, and the hallway of the women's block was short.

[to here]

Taura felt like herself again. Her skin fit over her bones, and while her shoulder had fresh bandages and wounds that still reached into muscle and restricted motion, it was hers.

Which was kind of unnerving if she thought about it too much. This body might have belonged to a young woman who hadn't asked to be replaced -- or it might not have, and Katherine Jackson might have been entirely a flight of fancy, but either way, it wasn't her body.

Maybe tonight they'd find out more. She'd hoped Okita still had Homura's key; now she knew he did, and she wanted to get a better look at that room.

Which meant there was no time to waste. She was packed by the time the intercom switched on, and out the door as soon as it opened.

[to here]

The intercom jingled at its standard time, with the Head Doctor still in his over-the-top, jovial mood. It seemed not even the evening light could keep down the love he held for his job.

"Good evening, everyone! I hope your soul is filled with music from last shift; I know mine is."

There again was a stretch of silence. When the Head Doctor continued, he sounded marginally disappointed.

"But now it's time to wind down the day with a bit of dinner. Tonight, we'll be serving turkey breasts and quality gravy, with sides of garlic mashed potatoes, steamed broccoli, grilled asparagus, and a small salad. For dessert, we will be having pumpkin pie with optional whipped creme. As per usual, we will have our vegetarian alternatives and a wide selection of drinks available. Turkey lovers, be sure to take advantage of the food; it'll be an entire week before you can have this delectable meat again."

He chuckled at the statement. One might have labeled it as dark.

"Anyway, enjoy! I will wish you all a good night momentarily!"

The intercom clicked off.

It wasn't often that Renji felt less like punching people in general as his day wore on. This was a new experience for him. A not unwelcome one, if he was being honest. And the fact that he felt less like punching Fai? Kind of mind-blowing. The sort of thing Zen masters would probably use as a kouan to reach an all-new level of non-punching enlightenment.

So he was back from the dead, almost everyone he'd known was gone, and yet bizarrely his day felt like it was looking up. Kind of. Renji wasn't sure what to make of this. Maybe his grumpy meter was just nearing empty. That was as good an explanation as the next, considering how this place made him feel.

Whatever the reason, he ended up in the music room. And he remembered oh yeah. He'd always kind of hated this damn shift. He grabbed a little book of music and a drum and retreated quickly to the far end of the room. He put the drum down in front of him just so he looked like he was doing something and opened the book. But he had no idea how to read music, and really, he was more interested in the ongoing puzzle of what the hell had happened in the last four weeks.

And brooding. Of course. There was always brooding to be done.

[Okay Tolten, let me lay it out for you. When there's a mommy and a daddy... or sometimes a daddy and a dadddy. Or, hell, sometimes a mommy and a mommy if you buy the right kind of wood cuts (and a third mommy if you go to just the right shop)... but anyway when they love each other very much, or at least a suitably large amount of money changes hands, there are some things that happen...]

It was definitely a good thing that Tear had tracked him down, seeing how she'd had a wealth of interesting information for him. Granted, a lot of it he could have guessed himself, especially the details about Landel's capabilities, but it was always good to have it confirmed by a trustworthy source.

Assuming that Marc was trustworthy, anyway. Guy realized that for all they knew, Marc could be dead by now. That was something they were likely only going to know for sure once night came. The fact that anyone who even claimed to be on their side ended up dead was really not a good sign, and yet Guy realized that they had no choice but to keep pushing forward.

While he was set in his decision that they keep exploring the underground lake and everything beyond it, Guy was still worried that it was going to be another trap. Which would mean that they had fallen for the same trick twice. Still, even that was better than doing nothing, which was what he had to keep telling himself.

The announcement that lunch would be offered as a free shift this time around did take Guy by surprise, though. This was the first time that something like this had been done, as far as he knew, and he wondered what Landel's aim with it was. Maybe he wanted to try and endear himself to them as being more lenient than Aguilar, but he should have realized that that only had a chance of working with the newer patients. Even then, Guy would hope that most people would be smarter than to fall for it.

Still, he realized he might as well take advantage of the option, and so he took his sack lunch and headed outside onto the recreational field. The weather was improving steadily, and Guy couldn't help but enjoy the feeling of the crisp air combined with the sun beaming down on him. He figured he'd take a short walk to get his appetite going before eating.

[For Luke.]

And so it seemed that everything had gone back to normal.

Guy had spent his breakfast filling in a new patient and now Landel was rambling over the intercom like he always did. It made sense that the man would want to act like everything with Aguilar had never happened, though Guy couldn't help but wonder how things would change when night finally came. Knowing Landel, he'd have a long-winded speech prepared for them.

That was something that he could worry about later, though. Guy filed away the information about the doctors, but it didn't matter too much to him. He'd only been forced through that once, and had apparently been deemed a lost cause after that session. Speaking with a doctor here would just be a waste of time as far as he could tell, so that was fine by him.

Being placed in the Sun Room gave him access to the bulletin board, and perusing it gave him some idea of what had gone on last night, at least to the point that he understood that they'd had some sort of outside help. People were being secretive, but that was nothing new. Guy went ahead and put up a note for his friends, wanting to keep it up as a routine (at this point Luke should have been the one doing it, but Guy could talk to him about that later).

With that taken care of, he had little else to do but find himself a place to sit, and before long he located a comfy armchair. He took as seat, but as usual Guy couldn't help but keep an eye out for any friends.

[For Tear!]

The intercom chimed at its usual time, with the Head Doctor sounding far more jovial than he had in his previous announcement. (Not that he wasn't jovial enough to begin with, mind you.) He hummed a tune and rustles a few papers before composing himself long enough to address his audience.

"Ah! There is nothing like a warm, home-cooked meal to accompany the quiet thrill of paperwork," he declared. "Kudos to our cafeteria workers for the wonderful meal! I wouldn't know what we would do without their beautifully crafted dishes..."

One could almost swear they heard the intercom emit a dreamy sigh.

"In any case, to gear you up for today's activities, your nurses will be escorting you to the Sun Room for some rest and relaxation! Unfortunately, we won't be holding therapy sessions today due to scheduling errors, but that doesn't mean you won't get to spend quality time with your doctors this week. We'll be resuming therapy over the weekend so look forward to that!"

The Head Doctor paused to clear his throat and then continued: "Well, then. Enjoy your morning, everyone! Be good to your nurses now! Speaking of which... Nurse? Nurse! Could you please tell me where they put the--"

The intercom clicked off.