Recluse was practically watching the door, waiting for the lock to click open. He had hidden the angle iron he had begun to work on, as well as a good amount of rust, stored in a small sack made from a portion of his sheets. His years of working at Paragon City's shipyards had shown him that rust could really come in handy, if you knew the proper ways to employ it. He’d need more materials, but he could always try to find them tonight. "I have the rust, some screws from the bed, and I can always pull some wires out of that radio… I just need the water, salt and aluminum." It was amazing what you could do to create something destructive, even if you were limited to just human abilities.

When the intercom sounded the first time, he listened impatiently, although he did wonder a little about these 'disciplinary therapies'. At the messages' last "Goodbye!" he muttered "Good riddance," to the daytime façade. Now all he had to do was wait through the first nighttime rant.

Which proved to be more amusing than he had expected. ...the stuff of nightmares? Recluse actually laughed aloud at that just to show the doctor how a real evil laugh was done. He was quite sure that whatever the doctor thought was so dire, he had personally done worse. To good friends, even.

The doctor was really sounding more insecure by the minute. He shook his head, looking like a teacher disappointed in a failing student. The lunatic propaganda from both the intercom and the radio was starting to grate on him. For now, he was content to do what he had always done and trust no one.

When the door unlocked, he quietly made his way down the hall, unlit flashlight in his left hand, idly flipping the sharpening steel into the air with his right. He had been able to put a wicked point on the end of the thing, regardless of the efforts of the kitchen staff to lock up all potential weapons.

He needed to find a hammer, among other things. It would be wherever supplies for repairs were kept, but he hadn’t seen anything like a janitor's room or any staff centers on the ground floor. There had been several nurses and doctors glancing in on the prisoner's activities in the sunroom from the second floor, he remembered... Maybe he could have more luck up there. He had heard sounds of a fight passing the stairs the night before, however. He would just have to be more careful.

His leg was still bothering him, but he could make do. He certainly wasn't going to allow his attention to wander tonight.

The second the intercom sounded, while the man on the intercom was still talking, Ashton pulled himself off the couch in the Music Room and slowly made his way to the door. He walked, glided even, as if he were a ghost in a dream. The nurses had already filed up to escort the patients to the lunchroom, and one bustled over to walk Ashton those few feet from one room to another.

"You're not looking very well, Mr. Pritchett," she said cheerfully. "Didn't you enjoy your shower?"

Ashton replied with a small, forced smile, then shook his head. He didn't feel like talking now. Though the nurses were pushy and downright annoying, he figured he owed this one at least a little explanation. They didn't know - or didn't believe - what went on after dark, but he owed them the benefit of the doubt. "Bad day," he decided on telling her.

Bad day indeed. The showers and the music had done nothing for his nerves. But then again, what could get that graphic image out of his head?

He glided ghostily through the taco line and settled on two chicken and bean tacos, with chips, a scoop of guacamole, two churros on the side, and a glass of apple juice. He wasn't used to this sort of food (save the juice) and he wasn't even sure he'd eat it, but the chances were high that he'd be able to pass it off on someone.

He was on the verge of tears again, too. What he would have given to just sit down next to a barrel and eat a hamburger.

Thank goodness the cafeteria was bare just now, too. It left all the corner tables open, the tables that shouted 'Don't talk to me, I'm brooding over here.' He sat at one, pushed his food a little away from him, and buried his head in his arms.

Well, that was a complete waste of time.

They were so occupied with fighting that pathetic ape they didn't even got a chance to enter that stupid office. Not even a peek, while the door was wide open. That was just pathetic!

Albel found himself back in his bed. The captain barely had time to wrap his knife in the piece of cloth and stuff it into his pocket before the nurse came in, whining about him missing breakfast. Albel merely glared daggers at her, but instead of taking the hint she just rambled on about the next activity.

The Ellicoorian wasn't particularly looking forward to taking a shower. Not that he had something against personal hygiene, on the contrary. But communal showers were not something Albel was exactly comfortable with, the captain liked his privacy. Part of him just wanted to turn around in his bed and pretend the stupid wench didn't even enter his room, but he knew that wouldn't solve anything. So he allowed himself to be escorted to the showers.

After he had arrived and silently stripped himself of his pathetic excuse of clothing, he walked over the cold, damp tiles. There weren't any of the other worms around just yet, which suited Albel just fine. He picked a shower head removed slightly further from the others. As usual, he wasn't in the mood to socialize. Hopefully, none of the maggots would bother. Showering in the same room was bad enough as it was.

Turning the shower on, he felt the hot water flowing on his body. As he began scrubbing himself, his gaze rested on the ugly but sensitive, burned skin of his left arm. He'd never enjoyed looking at it, it was the mark of his failure, his shame. His mind went back to that incident years back. He remembered the flames, the scream... like it all happened yesterday. And the events a few nights back didn't help any of it.

No, he shouldn't think about it. He couldn't allow himself to be weak, not here. Self-pity wouldn't get him anywhere.

That hadn't felt like an entire night.

And his goddamn head hurt. Pounded, even. Enough that he wondered if he was going to end up playing another round of "Christen the nurse" this morning.

Maybe it was because he'd spent so much time and energy trying to find Nowe. That could be the reason behind both those problems. Just the thought of it made his stomach turn, made him want to fucking choke something.

Still, there was shit to do. He forced himself out of bed to put away his pens and the other leftovers from the adventures that didn't happen last night. He'd have to try to talk to Sora today, to see if they could just do tonight what they were going to do last night... and to see if the kid was doing alright.

...he just wished his head would stop hurting. That was probably the result of just how badly he'd overreached himself the previous morning.

The nurse that showed up to get him was cheerful. He grunted at her, listening to her with only half an ear until she mentioned all the excitement, about someone pretending to be a patient, all that crap that Landel had mentioned.

Renji gave her a narrow-eyed look. "Dr. Landel is a goddamn lying coward, and he's lying about that, too," he said. Whether it was true or not, there was only so much good cheer he could take on a shitty morning. "I hope he chokes on a cock." No matter how much venom he put in that statement, it wasn't enough.

Then he had to listen to a lecture about language and gratitude for the rest of the walk to the cafeteria, so maybe it wasn't worth it after all. She dragged him through the breakfast line, and he ended up with granola and toast and tea and a cinnamon roll, because not even a shitty fucking night could ruin his sweet tooth. Though that thing was looking a little too sweet.

The cafeteria was pretty much empty; he had his run of the place. He sat himself about as far from the doors as he could get, and proceeded to stare at his breakfast.

"Master Raistlin?"

Pulling open another door, Bast peered into the room and sighed. This wasn't going well. Holding his lighted wand over his head, Bast stepped back out into the hallway and glanced left and then right. After wandering a little from the bathroom to here, Bast had finally remembered that he was on a mission to find and protect the Dark Lord.

The problem was that he was beginning to worry quite a bit. The longer he wasn't with the Dark Lord, the more he doubted that he'd even found the man. What if it had all been a trick? Harry Potter or Albus Dumbledore would have done that. Evil bastards.

Clutching his wand bravely, Bast headed for the next door.

"Master Raistlin?"

And Demyx thought this guy knew the way out...

The intercom's announcement found Miles Edgeworth in a much better mood than he had been the previous shift. The conversation he'd had with the young Elven Lord Valyn had provided interesting information, even if hard to believe, and he finally felt as if he'd been useful to someone, rather than a hindrance in the setting.

He bowed, in a manner reminiscent of his courtroom days, and took his leave of the young man. "Good luck. And be careful."

With that, he reshelved his books, picking another at random, and took a seat in the corner. He wasn't sure if the note he'd left on the bulletin board had ever reached its intended recipient, but it wouldn't do to leave a note saying you were in a place and not actually be there.

"I trust that all of you are enjoying your free choice shifts today!" The Head Doctor said cheerily after the intercom's short jingle was over. "Most of you will, of course, not have to be ushered to a new room, because our free time will be continuing; of course, you can move around if you so desire. However, some of you will be graced with visitors this shift... let's see...."

He rustled through some papers, finally letting out a sigh.

"Ah, here we go! Kaden Johnson, Regina Ellis, Christopher Marlowe, Ezra Klein, Gregory Meadows, Joshua Sampson, and Eve Sanders will be escorted to Waiting Room 1. David Shaw, Macauly Culkin, Hans Davis, Lucas Crane, Lynn Maxwell, Mercutio Jones, Christopher Maxwell, Aaron Steward, and Chris Baty will be taken to Waiting Room 2. Unfortunately for the rest of you, those will be the last visitations of the day! Perhaps you'll be luckier when next Sunday rolls around."

He paused, then continued.

"Oh, yes, and how could I forget our new patients this shift? Please welcome Aidan Fairbairn, Drake Mallard, Jacob Klaus, Zachary Brennan, Amy Iwato, Ryan Minson, Rachel Roth, Jordan Becker, Vernon Rogers, and Morgan Sheen. Although I'm sure you're tired from meeting all the new faces thus far, I'm sure that you'll still find time to help out the new patients with what will soon become their usual routine. In any case, that's about all for now, and I hope you continue to enjoy this fun-filled day!"

The intercom clicked off once more.

[ IMPORTANT OOC STUFF: Okay, dudes, same drill with the visitors as last shift! (Remember to check the room description and guidelines from the last intercom post.) And BIG NOTE HERE: For the sake of simplicity, even if your character(s) are staying in the same place(s), please make new posts for this new shift after this intercom post. ALSO, people in the waiting rooms from last shift, you are totally allowed, in fact, highly encouraged to keep posting until you feel fully satisfied by the length/events of the visit. :] Also be forewarned: This next shift might end up having to be extended a bunch of days so we can make sure everyone who signed up for visitors gets their fair share. Kay? <3 Okay. :3 ]