The night hadn't been nearly as productive as Loki would have liked, though he didn't feel all that upset about it. He had all the time in the world, as far as he was concerned.

He would have to keep an eye out for those showing very visible signs of infection. It seemed to be a very rapidly progressing disease, which was interesting, but not necessarily all that helpful. Of course, the question of humanity was cute in terms of philosophy, but considering that Loki had never been human and had no desire to lower himself to that level, he found it amusing more than threatening. It would probably set the mortals into mental paroxysms, though.

The prospect of visiting the town Soma had told him about, that was certainly more interesting, and possibly useful. Particularly considering they were apparently to be given some money to spend. There had to be a book store in the town at the very least, an possibly something more useful. He had serious doubts that he'd be allowed to purchase anything overtly useful like specialized tools, but the knowledge was far more important and books were the best place to focus.

Loki smiled prettily enough for the nurse when she showed up and took the clothing offered. It was slightly less painful to look at than the normal horrible uniform - jeans and a green flannel shirt, though he wasn't enamored of the plaid pattern. The outfit also included a black jacket and gloves, necessary since the weather was still cold. He made certain to tuck his notebook and a few pens into the jacket, since even if he wasn't allowed to purchase useful books, there would no doubt be an opportunity to take notes.

And he had a message he wished to pass around as well. Hopefully there would be some sort of bulletin board in the town. If not, it could always wait another day he supposed. That didn't tend to make people less dead.

Loki went quietly to the bus, accepting the sack of food and the little booklet of coupons. He examined the card that came with it for a moment - apparently that was the money equivalent - then looked through the coupons. Really, of the choices the massage and the manicure sounded the nicest. He was particularly wary of the 'tasty meal' since in his experience, anything with 'tasty' actually in the name was destined to be anything but.

With his normal air of amusement mixed with despair at the general state of food in this place, he started picking through what passed for breakfast.

[Send me an angel!]

[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]

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]

This was shaping up to be an emotionally draining day. Seeing Ilia at her weakest was heartbreaking, and trying to be strong enough to support her had taken a lot out of Anise. She just hoped it was enough...

But then there was another issue: keeping track of her Auldrantian friends. Returning to the bulletin, Anise found that Tear had replied, which was a relief... but there was still no word from Luke or Guy. It was too early to say if anything bad had happened, but Anise was worried. Guy in particular was always totally reliable, so what could be keeping him from answering?

Anise waited near the entrance to the showers, watching the people who went in, hoping to see a familiar face. Time passed, and most patients filed in... but there was still no sign of Luke or Guy.

Disheartened, Anise made for the courtyard alone. She walked for a while, and eventually decided to sit down on a bench. There, she pulled Tokunaga in front of herself and clutched the doll tightly against her chest. Between her worries about her friends and the various aches and pains in her body, Anise felt awful all over.

[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]

All things considered, his discussion with Harvey Dent could have gone worse. Even though neither of them had been given much choice in whether to spend the shift together, they'd been able to make the best out of a bad situation by remaining civil to one another. He'd also given Barnaby a better idea of what to expect when he inevitably talked to more patients here.

There were still too many unanswered questions, though, not to mention too many things that set him on edge. Unfortunately, he already realized his nurse wasn't going to be of much assistance. In fact, she seemed more preoccupied with getting him to go to the greenhouse for this shift.

"That's where most of the male patients will be," she explained. "Wouldn't you like to plant some flowers with them?"

And possibly get soil under his nails? Please. Not that he was afraid to get his hands dirty when the situation called for it, but Barnaby had no intention of doing so just to amuse his captors. "No, thank you," he answered with a polite smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. "If it's all right, I'd rather stay in here."

The nurse didn't look too pleased. "But you spent second shift here..."

Barnaby's gaze didn't waver. "Is that not allowed, then?"

"Well, yes, it's allowed, but..." The nurse sighed. "I suppose it wouldn't be a problem if you stayed. Go have a seat. I have to help pass out some letters, but I'll check on you later."

"Thank you." He could only hope that, by "checking on him", she didn't mean bringing someone to sit next to him.

With that, Barnaby settled down on one of the couches, letting out a quiet breath as he leaned back against the cushions. According to the schedule posted to the bulletin board, there were only four activity shifts in a day, followed by dinner, and then presumably lights out. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could be left alone for the rest of the day. After two shifts in a row of talking to perfect strangers, Barnaby was starting to grow tired. With his powers gone, his memories unreliable, and apparently not a single soul who knew him, he felt vulnerable, fragile, and small.

Barnaby hated it.

All he could do now was soak in these few precious moments of quiet so he could better brace himself for whatever happened next. Hands resting at his sides, Barnaby closed his eyes and tried to look like he was napping.

[For Ramona]

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!]

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...]

After handling two conversations that had been difficult for completely different reasons, Castiel had to admit that he felt weary. It was not a sensation that was new to him; between Izaya showing far too much interest in his kind and Ruby simply being who she was, some peace and quiet was what he craved.

As it turned out, he might have a chance at that, seeing how the Head Doctor had decided to give them a choice for where to go in the next shift. Sitting around and eating three times a day had always struck Castiel as inefficient, so he approved of the change. Despite that, he still took the brown bag when it was offered to him, as his appetite wasn't something he could control.

His first choice was the library, and it was something that the nurses permitted. That surprised him, as in his experience eating wasn't allowed in libraries. He could understand the logic: books were sacred. Reading wasn't his goal at the moment, though, as he'd been meaning to write out an account of his experience last night since the morning. Now, finally, he would have the chance.

Castiel picked out a table at the back of the large room, sitting down and setting his lunch off to the side. He'd gotten a few sentences written out thus far, which he studiously added to. He soaked in the quiet; it helped him focus, and he wrote.

[For Kratos.]

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!]

Well, that was ominous. No announcement at all? Lana sat on the edge of her bed in the darkness for a few minutes, waiting to see if Aguilar was merely drawing out the opening of night, but after the locks had clicked open, there was only silence. Lana switched on her flashlight, and picked up the things she'd laid out during dinner. Her coat, with a scalpel and her notebook in the pockets; her flashlight, and the pile of things she needed to give to Ema. Her own file she'd put back in the box already; the amount to which it was disturbingly plausible packed back into a space she wasn't ready to consider.

Not that she believed the lies, no, but it could be her. Her own flaws, her own inability to do what needed to be done at the critical moment; that was far too true. It hadn't even required blackmail; only her own weakness.

Self-fulfilling prophesy, Lana. That had Mia's voice, if not her own, and she let herself smile into the darkness. Too much dwelling, not enough doing. What she'd done was wrong, and no rationalization could solve it, but she couldn't let it stop her from moving on. People could change, and she was going to prove it. If Fey appeared on the doorstep of the Institute again tomorrow, this time she'd be prepared. Not with evidence; she still didn't have any, but with enough certainty to face her with a genuine smile. Mia hadn't changed, even if she was going by Angela -- still unswervingly convinced of her own righteousness, and still, damnit, still right.

Ah, yes. That. She'd have to make sure Ema knew Mr. Wright was here -- and that Prosecutor Edgeworth had apparently re-arrived as well. It wouldn't quite replace the people they'd lost, but it should cheer her up.

[to here]

[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.]

The grocery store had turned out to be useless in terms of tools, but at least it hadn't been boring. After leaving, he'd made a brief stop at Tasty Burger to use his coupon on lunch and contemplate his next move.

In terms of something he could use, Izaya supposed he should have gone to the hardware store... He could always save that for later, as a last resort if nowhere else had anything that looked particularly interesting. But where, then, should he check first...?

Izaya finally decided on the electronics store, even though the trip would most likely be in vain—aside from replacement parts, there was little he could afford with his limited funds. However, the chance of finding something useful wasn't zero, and checking the store wouldn't take all afternoon...

He made his way down Main Street to T&M Electronics, barely glancing at the televisions in the display window as he entered the store. Maybe there would be something used for sale that was in his price range...

[Snow]

Snow doubled in number as the day transitioned into the evening hours. Unfortunately, none of the patients were allowed the time to enjoy the weather changes. They were instead greeted by the telltale jingle of the intercom, signaling their cue to return indoors.

Once again, they heard the voice of a familiar female. She sounded unchanged from her previous announcements, her intonation as clear and as flat as ever.

"Attention all subjects and personnel. All subjects are to return to their assigned rooms for their evening meal. Lights Out will commence shortly after."

The woman paused, seemingly for effect.

"All personnel: you are to report to your stations. 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! ]

Talking with friends usually put Anise in a better mood, but the subjects that she, Guy, and Tear covered at lunch were so heavy that Anise couldn't help but feel weighed down afterward. It was hard to think and talk about the terrible things that came about from her lies. She wasn't going to cry, not now, but she felt like she needed a little space.

Fortunately, children were going out to the Courtyard today, and that sounded like a good, wide area where she could get a little alone time. The fresh air could help her mood, too.

When Anise reached the door, however, a blast of cold air rushed in at her, and all she could see outside was a blinding veil of whiteness. For a moment, she simply stared at the sight. She never saw much for snow at Landel's, but here it had already covered everything in just one day!

"You might need this," a soldier said, presenting a black jacket to her. The color and style really didn't suit Anise, but it looked expensive. She slipped it on, and while it wasn't as feminine as she liked her clothes to be, the lining actually had a nice feel to it. On the left breast, she noticed a name embroidered over it. It wasn't her name, but it was still kind of impressive that they personalized these things.

Outside, snow had settled onto every surface, like a big fluffy blanket over the ground. Anise walked along the path for a bit, creating a single set of footprints in the otherwise smooth surface. Once she was a fair distance from the doors, she diverged from the path (which was barely visible to begin with) and walked to the edge of the pond, watching the falling snowflakes disappear into the water.

It was a pretty sight, but it wasn't enough to completely take her mind off of Ion. Before long, Anise found herself wondering if it was snowing where Ion was, too. Maybe he was really far away, though...

[waiting for her boyfriends ♥]

Though five days without bathing was hardly unusual for Rita, she was actually looking forward to showering today. To her, the last shift had been somewhat enjoyable, if only because it allowed her an opportunity to be alone with her thoughts for a bit. Of course, she couldn't be completely alone in the communal showers, but no one was rude enough to disturb her in there, which was good enough for her.

Once the shift was over, she re-applied the bandages on her leg and knee, dressed herself, and made her way to the cafeteria. The pain in her knee seemed to lessen as the day progressed, and her slight limp became less noticeable to herself. Hopefully it wouldn't impede her much come nightfall.

Upon entering the cafeteria, however, Rita found that she had more immediate problems to deal with. What was that slop they were serving?

Deaf to her complaints, a soldier quickly ushered her into the line for the pink gruel. While waiting, Rita became aware of a section in the room where edible food was being served... but apparently only to selected patients. Whose butt did they have to kiss to get that treatment?

After receiving her "meal" (using the word very loosely), Rita found an empty area to sit in. There, she made no move for her utensils, but instead glared at the plate of mush as if the food itself had somehow wronged her.

[For Woody]

[from here]

There was a sense of stillness in the small room, and Ayanami clicked on her flashlight to allow quicker scouting. There was not much to be seen, a bland office with the most basic of things. What garnered attention was the shining computer system prominently displayed on the desk. It was doubtful that little could be scraped off of it, but if there was anything to be learned, it would be a boon. She wandered towards it, glancing the rest of the room as she went.

There was another thing in the forefront of her mind, something that could become very useful if she could master it. "Unlocking the door," she started suddenly. "Will you teach me that?"

[from here]

There existed nothing but a row of doors. She almost thought it was another patient hall, but for prior knowledge. Still it reminded one of that, with only small amounts of space in-between. So what would these doors hold? She frowned lightly, and moved closer to the one on the left. Nothing to distinguish it from anything else. Her hand moved to the knob, tried it.

Locked. Like the rooms upstairs that would only open when unlocked. There was an iota of frustration in her. The locked doors only barred excess to more understanding. It seemed too much, to be denied even the smallest bit of insight. Her hand dropped from the door, and she stepped back. "Locked," came her quiet explanation. "I don't know of any keys available that we can use."

There was a chance the other doors weren't locked. But a beginning like this was a bit disheartening.