"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Renji stared out over the frozen landscape, shoulders hunching up as the first punch of icy wind hit him. He wasn't a guy that was used to the cold, not like this. It didn't get like this in Soul Society, ever. And that was for the best as far as he was concerned.

Only those complaints fell away an instant later as his hand dropped to his side, fingers wrapping around the hilt of...

Zabimaru.

Renji looked down, not quite willing to believe, with his fingers muffled by gloves. But the sword was there. The missing part of his soul was back. He frowned, though, as he searched through his own feelings, finding the familiar tension of a power limiter. How the hell could these people even do that?

"Hey Daemon... you got your... uh... thingies back too?"

Renji had always had the good fortune of avoiding a post-dinner escort somewhere by the orderlies, but he had a good idea what he was about to face. Torture, or brainwashing. At this point, he also knew that fighting would get him sedated.

So goddamn it, he was going with some dignity.

He walked along next to the orderly in stony silence, contemplating if maybe a little indignity would be preferable as they went up to the first floor. Maybe going down kicking and screaming ineffectually was a better option after all, and he was just about ready to plant a fist in the orderly's face when...

The meeting room? Okay, he hadn't been expecting that.

Some random shithead handed him a file, which got growled, "The fuck do you want?" in response.

"Read it."

"Fuck you."

"You've been brought here because you have useful skills. Read it."

"Double fuck you." Staring match. But that hit Renji's curiosity enough that he was willing to flip it open and at least look.

...assholes.

This whole day had been quiet so far, and Kratos rather liked it that way. Aside from a mandatory therapy session, he had not been forced into talking with someone he didn't know under the pretense of making friends, nor had he been conversely accosted. There was still a report that he needed to give, if Sora would actually be around the next day for him to give it, but that was different. Reports and things of a more business-like nature agreed with him where small talk did not.

He was the first one into the showers for perhaps the first time, which meant that the often sought-after corner shower was now his for the taking. Kratos had no problem with communal showers, thanks to his time in the military, but the corner shower had this aura about it, this sort of vibe that clearly stated, "Do not bother me"--exactly what he was looking for, on a day where he'd enjoyed mostly peace and quiet.

Turning the water on, he waited for a few seconds under the spray to thoroughly soak his hair before reaching for the shampoo.

[OLD MAN CLUB MEETING NOW IN SESSION]

Renji was in a weirdly good mood as breakfast finished. Brook was one of the stranger conversations he'd had in a while, and maybe that's what made it easier to feel less like punching everyone in the face.

Even with a light headache starting to build behind his eyes - maybe there was a storm coming or something - Renji managed to be something approaching polite to his nurse as she took him back to the room so he could grab his coat.

He also realized that he hadn't seen Sora at breakfast and asked the nurse if she knew what happened to him. He had to resort to describing Sora, since he couldn't remember the kid's fake name. But the nurse knew who it was and told Renji he was sleeping.

That was worrying. But Renji told himself it was nothing to freak out about yet. Maybe. He'd sure be checking in with Sora as soon as the kid woke up, and he wasn't going to stop feeling worried until he did. But until then, that also meant someone had to deal with Arts and Crafts for the day. One the way back out, Renji took a quick detour to the bulletin board. It was better to concentrate on business than worry anyway.

Out in the courtyard he stuffed his hands in his pockets and started wandering around, just trying to keep the blood moving. The cold didn't really help the headache, but he used to everything just sucking at random.

[Free to a good home]

A misplaced sense of familiarity met Barnaby the moment he opened his eyes, and the sight of the blank, white ceiling from yesterday morning greeted him. After rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, Barnaby sat up and felt around for his glasses. Had he blacked out again and wasted an entire night? Where was Kotetsu? And what had become of the man who had seemingly vanished before his very eyes at the end of dinner?

Once Barnaby slipped his frames onto his face, the world came into clearer focus, even if he didn’t get any answers out of it. He was in his room, and someone had apparently stripped him out of his street clothes in favor of the hideous hospital pajamas. Barnaby wasn't sure what he found more offensive -- that someone here had once again touched his things without his permission, or that he’d been undressed while unconscious for the second time since his arrival.

The thought made his skin crawl.

Just as he looked over to find a lump in the bed next to him, though, his assigned nurse came to retrieve him. He would have to confirm Klavier Gavin's whereabouts later. For now, he had no choice but to allow the nurse to escort him into the cafeteria. Strangely, she seemed to be under the impression that he and the other patients had slept soundly the whole night. While he might have assumed it was an act, Barnaby got the feeling that she genuinely believed what she was saying.

Regardless of her intentions, he knew she wasn't going to be any help. Instead of trying to ask her anymore questions, Barnaby left a note on the bulletin board concerning his roommate. If his observations from yesterday were any indication, he'd get some responses, at least. While he could have taken the time to leave something for Kotetsu, Barnaby didn't feel inclined to do so, especially when he knew he probably wouldn't check the board anyway.

He had no appetite this morning, but his nurse wouldn't leave him alone until she'd assembled a tray of fresh, fluffy pancakes for him. Honestly, Barnaby didn't see why some people felt the need to butt into his personal choices like this. At least there wasn't anyone forcing him to eat -- for now, at any rate. He sat down at an empty table close to the wall after setting his food down, privately hoping that she wouldn't try to find a "friend" for him to eat with this morning. He was tucked out of the way, so maybe she would forget about him for a few minutes as long as he didn't draw any unnecessary attention to himself.

Hands neatly clasped on the table, Barnaby didn't look at anyone in particular as patients filtered into the cafeteria for their morning meal. There were too many questions buzzing in his mind for him to focus on the names and faces of people he didn't care about. If Kotetsu wanted to find him, he could. It wasn't like Barnaby was going anywhere.

[For Kotetsu.]

[From here]

Well, no more rabid rodents trying to climb into Daemon's pants so far. Renji was pretty sure he should have some kind of witty remark to say about that, but words were failing him for the moment.

Opening the refrigerator door required some judicious use of the pipe, but it gave up resisting eventually, like Renji had known it would. He paused for a moment to grab an ice cream out of the freezer box - because why the hell not - then went to the familiar discolored tile and pried it up to reveal the door to the basement.

At least that hadn't changed.

[From here]

Renji paused to listen again, then moved forward into the kitchen. "Okay," he murmured to Daemon. "It's the middle door in the back. There's a tile in there that's a trap door. Or at least that's how it was before I got my ass killed, so hopefully it hasn't changed."

That said, he moved through the kitchen, heading for the refrigerator. His movements were as silent as he could make them. That sure felt easier wearing his uniform, at least, like he was ready for action.

[Coming from here.]

Daemon slipped in ahead of Renji, his gaze sweeping the deep shadows for any sign of movement, happy to leave the Sunroom behind. The darkness here was oppressive, but he'd been prepared for that. The bites on his legs were annoying but easy to ignore and with his Shield in place, he didn't mind taking the lead for a bit. He'd be able to take more damage than Renji with the Black surrounding him.

"It's in through the kitchen, right?" he asked the redhead, not entirely certain how to get to their destination. The voice over the Radio had him moving with renewed anticipation, however. And he was secretly relieved that Harrington - or whatever his name was - had gotten away safely.

[from here]

The abrupt transition from one location to another was disorienting, but Rita had already done this enough times that she was relatively fine upon reappearing in the ballroom. Since there was no longer any need to tolerate the brat hanging off her thigh, she gave her leg a sharp kick to try and shake him off.

Next, she looked around the room, trying to regain her bearings and remember which direction they came from before. It wasn't long before she located the set of doors across from where they'd gone before. "We're going this way, right?" she asked to confirm, looking to Taura. "Any idea what's back there?" From what the woman was saying before, it sounded like she certainly did.

[From here]

Renji entered the Sun Room cautiously, pausing to listen. He didn't hear anything. But of course he didn't hear anything. If there was someone waiting in the Sun Room, they never did show themselves until it was too late to run. Just like everything else in this fucking place.

He shifted his grip slightly on the mop handle and moved inside, heading toward the door to the cafeteria. He trusted Daemon to have his back.

[from here]

The main hall was dead quiet as Soma rounded the corner. The last few nights, this place had been bustling with fellow patients; the sudden calm was very nearly unnerving.

Still, she tried to put it out of her mind. Marie didn't sense anything out of the ordinary--yet.

[to here]

[Coming from here.]

Daemon stepped out of the long hall of doors and into the corridor that connected the male hallways. It was quiet yet, so maybe he hadn't taken as long as he'd thought. Figuring this was as good a place to any to wait for Renji, he settled back against the far wall, slouching slightly as he settled in to wait. Hands tucked casually into his pockets, he couldn't quite stifle the amused smile that kept threatening to resurface.

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]

The moment dear Landel-san announced that it was time for lunch, Erika wasted no time and headed straight for the Sun Room's bulletin board to check if there was any response to her message left for her dear friend. Predictably, there was nothing for her on the board, and the detective scowled as she realized she might have to write him off as a loss. She had lost a good number of potential allies in this place, but losing this one was a bit of a blow, if only because he had useful things on him. On the other hand, if he was gone, and that ring was still here...

Perhaps it was not a great loss, then. Still, Erika was mildly annoyed as she wandered away from the board and back towards a nearby couch. She was spending a lot of time in the Sun Room lately, which seemed to be a bit of a waste as she could have spent in going around the Institute. On the other hand, she had a sandwich here that was waiting to be consumed and after spending a week with little access to "real food", Erika was more then happy to enjoy her time spent eating.

Still, at some point she was going to have to manage her time a little more effectively. There was no reason why she couldn't multitask, so Erika kept her gaze on the door of the Sun Room so she could watch people filter in on their way to other rooms. She wouldn't get everyone, no, but perhaps she would find someone useful that she could bother for the rest of the shift. A familiar face, or maybe someone new. She'd decide on that eventually.

[ hau Seishin ready for round 2. /killed ]

Loki wasn't entirely thrilled about returning to the recreation field, though he supposed it would be nicer during the day. And without the annoying presence of Riku. Some fresh air would likely do him good; that was what Sif and Thor had always claimed right before they dragged him out of the library.

He wasn't entirely certain if that was a pleasant thought or not. It was still far too mixed up and painful.

He was allowed to go back to his room and pull out every bit of warm clothing he had, bundling up as much as he could. As he followed the nurse out into the field, he also wondered if this meant he would miss out on the greenhouse, since he'd arranged to meet Soma after lunch. That had priority, of course, but he did find plants interesting. At least it was good to know there were activities they were forced to participate in during the day that weren't as horrifically painful as, say, what the music room would indicate.

Good to know that as prisons went, it wasn't all just torture, torture, torture. Some variation was good for the mind.

He wandered along the crunchy, dead grass, for now steering clear of the few other patients. The air felt much better during the day, smelled much better to him as well as he sniffed at it. even if it was cold enough to make his nose hurt. It reminded him uncomfortably of Jotunheim, and...

But at least here, there was sunlight. He wasn't trapped in that dark place as sometimes was in his nightmares.

Loki stopped about halfway down the field, tilting his head back to take in the thin sunlight, his eyes slipping shut.

[Here, angel angel angel... :D Castiel!]

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]

[Coming from here.]

Daemon pushed the door open and let his flashlight beam illuminate the interior of the closet with a skeptical look. If there was any semblance of organization to the chaos within, he couldn't pick it out. Whoever was in charge of maintaining this place seemed to have haphazardly stacked all their supplies on dubious-looking shelves or leaned them in the far corner.

"There's no way we're both fitting in here at the same time, not without getting buried," Daemon commented wryly, glancing back over his shoulder at Renji. "Do you want to go first or should I?"

[From here.]

The comment Mikado had posed caught Tear entirely off her guard; however, she still took the time to examine her surroundings before moving to address it. Her light moved across the floor, the doors, and the ceiling, checking for incongruity, and then turned back to the other. "A soldier?" she echoed. Her memory spoke of an announcement made by Aguilar, but she couldn't be certain. "Would you be willing to tell me what happened?"

[From here.]

The entry hallway to the second level happened to be quiet--dare she say, virtually deserted. Tear gave a thoroughly look and feel for the area before signalling Mikado to move ahead. She remained by his side, keeping all senses open for potential dangers. Hopefully none was present, but with this building, a person could never be sure.

[from here]

Taura peeked out of the stairwell door with the first evidence of caution she'd shown all night. Everything looked quiet, but that didn't mean much of anything.

They'd met here the last time she'd come up to head into that room, and that thing had come out of the walls. She didn't want to wait around anywhere, but especially not here. She was glad they were meeting a little further down the hallway. It didn't make it safer, but she'd fought enough battles to earn a little superstition.

Every soldier had a few. Didn't matter if they were religious or so fanatically committed to the opposite opinion that it almost qualified, they gathered superstitions like an air filter gathered dust. When you risked your life every day, anything that seemed to stand between you and the darkness shone like a beacon. She'd learned to forgive her fellow soldiers their foibles quickly; and then after her first real mission she'd understood. A fussy method of attaching a helmet was both a safety measure and a ritual -- doing something the same way every time kept people from forgetting it, and every time they came back alive cemented it.