He'd spent his time during second shift in the Sun Room observing, primarily, the nurses. He'd been hoping to spot something, anything, that could point to where he'd need to look for those keys. Disappointingly, he'd come up with nothing. Not that that really surprised Locke too much. It wasn't likely they'd keep something like that out in the open where just anyone could find it.

He'd have to dig around a bit more. And that had been his intentions for lunch, until he'd started feeling...off. At first, he'd been able to ignore it, but as the shift wore on, he could feel his face warming like when he'd spend too much time out in the sun and he just didn't want to be around as many people as there were in the Sun room.

So, he'd made his 'escape' to the only place that sounded good: the Green House. He'd always felt better with nature and this was no exception. Although the 'offness' didn't go away, he was able to concentrate on the plants and the quiet, which helped.

Hopefully, once he got more than the few bites of sugary pancakes he'd had that morning into his system, he'd start to feel more normal.



[Robin]

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 jingle of the intercom seemed ill-timed this round, a fact that was further pronounced by the pleasant voice following suit.

"Hello, patients. This is I.R.I.S. again. Due to technical difficulties, we are unable to speak to you directly at this time. Until the matter is resolved, we will be announcing the remainder of today's events from our automated service.

It is now time for everyone to retire to their assigned rooms for Dinner Shift. Tonight's menu consists of premium spaghetti with Landel's signature marinara sauce, garlic bread, and a side of Caesar salad. Our dessert for tonight is chocolate chip cookies. In addition, we will be providing the usual selection of drinks, and vegetarian alternatives can be made available upon request.

We again would like to apologize for any inconvenience. Please contact your nurse with any questions or concerns you might have. Thank you, and have a wonderful evening."

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! ]

[From here. All your top posts shall be mine.]

Peter entered the Sun Room with a dour expression. Goody, he was the first one here. Fancy that. Pick of the couches was his then. Eeeny meeny miney...moe. Peter stalked over to what he knew from experience was the fluffiest couch in the room and eased himself into its downy soft embrace. Ordinarily he would have just pounced on that sucker, but yeah. His arm was in a sling for a reason. He sighed and wormed his way into a full body sprawl. He didn't care if it was irresponsible of him. This shift's only mission was to remain as still as possible.

Of course, being the first one in here had some stipulations. With great opportunity came great responsibility. Which today, came in the form of a soft meow from below. Then the sound of puncturing fabric, advancing upwards towards him. More meows, independent of one another and even more tiny punctures.

Peter Parker was now officially the cat sitter.

"...Oh hi... lonely kittens," he said uneasily as the first scrambled over the edge of the cushion. It padded towards his face. "No no, kittens don't belong near faces." He gently picked it up and put it on his chest. Two more crawled over the edge.

He had never really had a pet growing up. And he didn't hang out with a lot of people with cats or dogs, either. So of course, he didn't have a good idea of how to properly handle most animals without ticking them off. It looked like he was going to have to make up for lost time now, as the cats' numbers swelled to four. Two were exploring his legs, another batted at a fraying string on his sling, and the first stumbled back towards his face and mewed plaintively. Peter frowned and gave it a ginger pat on the head. That seemed to to the trick. He put it back on his chest again and scratched behind its ears.

"You guys had better not start doing that claw thing on my leg. I can't reach right now, but revenge will be mine if you do."

"Meeeeew!"

"I'm still petting you! Geez."

[For Elle Bishop.]

Dinner had turned out to just be a session of complaining with Lunge about how hard it was to get things done in this place, which just made Harvey take a step back and realize that complaining wasn't going to get him anywhere. As much as he enjoyed stewing in his own anger, the only thing he could do was keep going. That explosion had taken a lot of things from him, but ambition was not one of them. It was just directed to a different cause now.

Landel's hadn't really been part of the equation, but he had to deal with this before he could get back to the rest of it. If only Batman had actually stayed put here, but that was obviously too much to ask from The Dark Knight.

Landel himself was acting nervous, but it seemed like the reasoning behind that wouldn't come to light until the next day. Or... not? He was being extremely vague, which just made Harvey shake his head and ignore it as he grabbed for flashlight, metal pipe, and gun, as usual. He had to admit it was nice, not having to worry about Lunge seeing it. And he hadn't touched it, either.

"Here's to both of us getting further tonight," he said with a shrug, not sounding all that convinced. He already knew that this was an uphill battle, but he wasn't one to lay down and die. So, as he quickly pulled the bandages from his face, not even wincing when they caught on tender patches of burnt skin before pulling away, he turned toward the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow." That was all he had to say before stepping through and heading down the hall.

[To here.]

[ from here ]

The doors to the next hallway were already wide open when she came through, though the ones at the far end of the hall were, as she could see from one brief flick of her flashlight, were tightly shut. Weren't those the doors to the recreational field? They were in the hall directly North of hers, it only made sense for this to be the other exit.

Checking down the hall also told her she was alone, and she was suddenly very grateful for the fact that the door to Peter's block was directly to her left, because the longer she spent in the male patient blocks, the more paranoid she grew that she was somehow going to stumble straight into Sylar.

Her pace picked up instantly at that thought and she pushed open the door to the block that Peter had directed her to, hoping his directions were right and that she'd remembered them well enough.

[ to here ]

The commotion just after the intercom's jingle displayed the same kind of erratic energy that the Head Doctor had been exuding all day.

"Come on, get those papers out of the way – no, I don't...! Ah! Good evening, everyone, and I hope you all enjoyed the activities we had to–"

Someone whispered something in the background. The Head Doctor sighed and muttered: "Yes, Lydia, I know we don't have many organized activities...

"...But anyway! Next up is dinner with your roommates! Tonight, we'll be having turkey and gravy, which will consist of some moist slices of turkey breast and garlic mashed potatoes, garnished with steamed broccoli, grilled asparagus, and topped with delicious gravy. We'll be serving the dinners with small side salads and our dessert will be pumpkin pie – as per usual, we have alternate meals for alternate dietary needs."

The Head Doctor took a long pause. Lydia mumbled something in the background.

"No, I'm not dawdling–! Er... I'll talk to you shortly, everyone!"

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. Thank you! ]

((From M44.))

His dinner had probably been one of the more uneventful ones in awhile, but that suited Claude just fine. After hearing about his father's release and running into his mother today, he had a lot on his mind. And that wasn't even touching on all the after effects of his sleep studies that he knew would probably follow him for a long time to come.

Being left to his own devices for a little while wasn't such a bad thing sometimes, because it meant he'd had enough time to sort through his thoughts long enough to keep them from getting in the way when he hung out with friends later. That was why Claude didn't waste any time moping around as he prepared for the night. While going through his things, he was pleasantly surprised to find that his jacket had been returned to him, neatly folded along with the rest of his uniform. Since he'd been unable to check before tonight because of his previous condition, he'd just assumed that it'd been lost on board the Calnus. At least that was one thing that was back to normal now...

Speaking of his Federation uniform, he hadn't forgotten about the phase gun, either. Even if he wasn't sure whether it would be of much use within the institute, Claude had no intention of leaving it lying around his room, either. He slipped it into the inside of his jacket, just as he'd done on his first official away mission all that time ago. His heart ached with something he couldn't quite name, but he pushed that aside for now. He had other things to do.

There was also the ring Guy had found for him to consider. Upon closer inspection, he was able to admire the craftsmanship of the piece of jewelry for what it was, even if he knew it hadn't been given to him to wear as some kind of accessory, or even as an aid in battle. But if what he'd heard was to believed, that jewel was capable of transporting him to the last place he'd been before the Calnus -- wherever that had been, exactly. Maybe it'd come in handy at some point. Claude slipped the ring onto his right hand and collected the rest of his things.

He didn't need to waste much time. After the last few days, Claude had a renewed appreciation for all the possibilities a new shift could bring. He didn't have to sit in his room with a couple of cold compresses taped over his eyes. That was always something to be grateful for.

With that thought, he pushed the door open and slipped out into the hall.

((To here.))

He hadn't expected to see a note to him from anyone other than his commanding officers. He'd caught the bulletin (from Dean, wasn't it?) addressed to him before the dinner shift. McCoy remembered him well enough. Rough looking kid, thought he could practice some medicine with nothing but a belt and dirty jacket, but generally had his heart in the right place. Now what was this about a gift basket?

He was prepared to turn down whatever it was anyhow. McCoy wasn't one to go on making a fuss. He was doing his job, and it wasn't for any reward or payment. He couldn't just ignore wounded, especially one that had partially resulted because of Spock's logic. There was only so far Spock could argue him down until he planted his feet and dragged them for all they were worth. Curiosity, however, was enough to make him consider going. He could check again with Dean about that friend of is, see how she was holding up.

A short stop wouldn't hurt too much in terms of time. They had their own assignments, but he didn't think it would take all that long. The doctor drew out first aid kit from the closet and opened it. He felt around for the partial map, and spreading it open on the bed, scanned it. It didn't take long to find Dean's room. M2 didn't look too out of the way.

The doctor packed up quickly and left.

[to here]

"Well, that's it for today's activities and hygiene!" The Head Doctor said with a jovial tone just after the sound system's jingle. He seemed excited and maybe even giddy. "Our nurses will now be escorting everyone back to their rooms, and some of you might find that you have brand new roommates to share your dinner with! That's right: we've gotten a whole new batch of patients, and I hope you all are as well behaved with them as you have – ...well, as most of you have been with our staff. Because of this good behavior, I'd like to remind everyone that they may stop at the Arts & Crafts room to bring their origami figures back to their room and decorate as much as they like!

"In any case, our dinner tonight will be herb chicken – breast and wing or leg and thigh, whichever you prefer – served with hot – well, not too hot – vegetable soup, caesar salad, and lightly fried rose potatoes. Our usual drinks are available, as well as alternatives for special diets, and dessert will be a delicious caramel apple.

"I believe that's all for now. Goodbye, everyone!"

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! ]

[from here]

Nothing in here either. Snow was starting to wonder if maybe Badou had been exaggerating when he said all of the staff turn into monsters. The place'd probably be crawling with Cie'th if that were really the case, or maybe they were all off in another part of the building. At least there wasn't anyone getting attacked or anything yet. He'd just keep an ear out for any trouble.

In the meantime, Snow made his way down the hallway, running a hand along the wall as he tried to get his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Wonder how many people got thrown in here.

[to here]

[M66]

Kirk went rummaging through his desk the moment Landel mentioned the "reward" in the drawer, but unless "Portal Ring" was some obtuse term for the metal circle which held the two keys which locked his drawer and the door to their room, there wasn't anything worth noting. (Although he had forgotten about the power packs in there, and quickly switched them out with the old ones on his flashlight.) But also according to the Head Doctor, only one person per group had received this mysterious "alien" item, which meant it must have gone to either Chekov or Roxas.

Chekov. The Head Doctor kept talking as Kirk pushed himself away from the desk to change into his coat and boots, and unlike usual, it seemed as though their warden was actually in a mood to tell them something useful. His group's ring, if it existed, would take them back to either Doyleton where he and Roxas had last been, or the foggy labyrinth where Chekov had separated from them. Either way, he was loathe to admit that it sounded exactly as valuable as Landel was suggesting.

Spock and McCoy would have one too, but right now, idle thoughts of where that ring would lead them wasn't priority. First item on his list was Chekov's room, M108. Like hell if Kirk was going to accept that a member of his crew had "disappeared" without confirming it with his own eyes. There hadn't been any of the signs — sleeping, memory loss — which had apparently marked other disappearances before now. There was no reason for Chekov to be gone.

Grabbing the last of his supplies for tonight, including the scalpel he'd picked up yesterday, Kirk wished ZEX good luck, and headed out.

[to here]

Somehow, after their talk in the chapel, Elaine felt simultaneously more accepting of and more irritated by her future husband. On the one hand, seven years had clearly been good to him. He seemed more sincere and thoughtful than he had been before his disappearance, and he had a more mature (dare she say, handsome?) look to him. On the other hand, there were clearly some things that made even time throw up its hands in vain and say, "To hell with this!" Guybrush was still inexorably prone to disastrous accidents if the story about the Pox of LeChuck was anything to go by, and he was so obviously keeping something important from her that any passing dolt in the Institute would have been able to tell. In the end, that eternal underlying sweetness of his that won out, keeping her from punching him again, at least. That was only by a hairs width, though. Her snugglecakes was going to have to stay on his best behaviour if he knew what was good for him.

She left the Mighty Pirate™ alone for the time being when the announcement of the next shift went off. He would want some time to catch up with Morgan next, presumably. As much as the woman's attitude bothered her, she was a friend of Guybrush's, as she had claimed. Elaine could be strict, but she wasn't the kind of shrewish future wife/past fiancé who would keep her man from seeing his friends. Besides, she needed some more time to catch up on the goings-on of the Institute. Patients filled the building to the brim, now, it seemed; there would be a lot to investigate.

After a few quick trips back and forth to the bulletin and a few new leads to follow up on, the governor gave in to her nurse's persistent nagging and headed to the cafeteria for brunch. After the relatively light fare of the day before, Elaine took advantage of the Institute's admittedly scrumptious offerings and loaded up a full, balanced brunchfast of eggs, sausage links, waffles, and vegetable soup. As expected, the selection of drinks did not offer either root beer or grog. Grog she could live without, at least, she thought while making a face. Eugh. For now, she settled for a tall glass of water.

Elaine settled into a seat in the cafeteria and tucked into her meal. Her eyes didn't stay on her food, though, instead gazing around restlessly; she hadn't seen LeChuck so far this morning, and god forbid he wanted to invite himself to brunch with her if he chose now to show up. A certain horribly unpleasant dinner on Mêlée Island came to mind. She was prepared to either move at the first sign of the dread pirate or signal a random stranger to sit with her before he could.

[For Dean]

"—na-"

… Viridian red buildings; clear water rushing—blood red running and then somewhere else; raining now, raining so hard it rained through bones, sounded like a drum-beat or a klaxon or Cait with his tail stuck in a socket…

"Han—"

… Insistent rain, more like Barret's gun-fire or pebbled sand against glass or both, loud and pounding and drowning but not, and somewhere overhead hung a second moon with a Tonberry leering…

"Hanna!"

… "Shut up," Yuffie mumbled thickly, her voice sticking in her throat like molasses.

"Oh, dear," said the trumpet in her ear. "You do have to wake up now, you know. Can't have you missing anything."

"Can too." Cracking her eyes open was going to be a chore like none other, Yuffie was quickly realizing. She didn't want to wake up. Sleep tugged at her, jostled her, clung to her. It called her back, pulled her under, but the trumpet—the voice; the nurse—was insistent. Had to get up, had to go face the day, and dear, oh dear, perhaps you're running a tad bit of a temperature, just a little, nothing to worry about.

It was then that Yuffie realized the problems.

One, it was morning. She wasn't in a locker room and she (mostly) didn't feel like she was gonna hack up a bowl of innards stew. That was… good. And bad. And it was awesome and it sucked, so point number two, please. Two: she didn't feel like somebody'd set up a blender in her stomach so much as she felt like somebody'd stuffed her head and limbs full of down-feathers and sticky toffee and socks. The cloying sensation was reseeding, but it lingered maddeningly. Point three, and this was the kicker: Plucky had been close enough to shake her shoulder, had been shaking her shoulder, and didn't have a black eye or a broken wrist to show for it.

"Oh, hell," Yuffie groaned.

Plucky tutted. "Language, young lady. Now, up you get."

Up Yuffie got, quick enough to almost send herself stumbling. She would not get sick. Not, not, not! It just wasn't gonna happen. After throwing on a sweater, Yuffie grabbed the two squishy balls—one orange and the other purple (both sporting stupid smiley faces)—from inside her desk drawer before she, Plucky in tow, left for the sun room. If she had something physical to focus on, something more than chatting or people-watching or cuddling with Fuzzbutt, she'd have a better chance of jump-starting herself into gear. Maybe. Hopefully.

Before long, Yuffie was perched cross-legged on one of the sun room's many sofas, Fuzzbutt the kitten languishing cosily in her lap. One hand rested against her knee—in that hand sat the purple ball. The other hand, her left hand, was up and moving, manipulating the orange ball into small tricks and sleights. Nothin' fancy. Nothin' even interesting, as far as the ninja was concerned. Just a quick warm up to get her fingers—and her brain, ugh; it was still fuzzier than she'd like—going.

[For Kaito and Yukari!]

Luckily for Mele, the night had ended before Tenzen had changed his mind and deemed Mele appropriate for target practice. Even if the situation of who was mocking who had seemed to change into the Iga ninja's favor. Despite her behavior, perhaps the insolent woman could serve some sort of use nonetheless. He had been trapped in this place for a week by now, he would not accomplish anything on his own.

A week was a long time, a lot could have happened. Of course, he was thinking of the war, the bloody clash of two rivaling ninja clans, whose hatred had gone back for four hundred years. After that infuriating peace treaty had been broken, he, too, could finally release the hatred. And despite their losses, Tenzen had been certain that the Iga clan - no, that he would be the one to remain standing.

Four had remained on both sides a week ago...had the remaining Kouga already been killed? Or had they somehow succeeded in disposing of the remaining three Iga (excluding himself) during his absence? Of those three, two were blind. The situation was not a favorable one, and with himself trapped here before he could return from death, he had to wonder if the Kouga had removed the name 'Yakushiji Tenzen' from the scroll and would believe they had eliminated all of Iga's chosen ten.

The thought - along with no manner of telling this - was enough to make his jaw tighten. The longer he would remain here...

But as unfuriating as it was, it would not help him return. After confirming the presence of the scalpels he had retrieved, a nurse entered his room to escort him to the cafeteria for ridiculous Western breakfast. Unfortunately, the same ridiculous food was the only source of nutrition.

Upon entering, the ninja noticed he was the first to arrive to the area. After deciding on a salad rather than these so-called 'pancakes', he moved to one of the many vacant seats.

[Free to a good home. No limits!]

[from here]

The snatch-and-grab had taken only a few seconds before Falis had Ritsu inside the bathroom. She spun about once through the door to place herself between her prey and its means of escape, kicking the door shut behind her. She would have her answers.

HK grabbed his weapons and left as soon as the door unlocked, wrenching it open with an uncommonly forceful motion and storming out. He had to go find Lugnut. This much was clear. He had to make sure the big, third-class intellect didn't get himself shot or starve, because he was the only droid left. Even if it came down to a maker-damned tug-of-war with the meatbags here to hold on to the Decepticon, he would.

[to here]

Yet another intercom jingle sounded, and the nurses, anticipating the Head Doctor's orders, already began grouping around the patients as he began to speak.

"Good evening, everyone and I trust you all enjoyed your fun day of physical activity! I sure wish I had! Aha! Anyway, our dinner tonight is some spaghetti with our ol' homemade Landel's marinara sauce, served with garlic bread and a Caesar salad. Our usual assortment of drinks and vegetarian alternatives is available, and our dessert for tonight is vanilla gelato ice cream with chocolate sauce.

"I do hope that sounds palatable to everyone! I will be speaking with you again shortly!"

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. Find new room assignments here. This shift's intro group is here. ]

Entering the greenhouse was almost like coming home, and Hanatarou had been looking forward to this shift for that reason. Everywhere else in the building was strange and confusing (and often dangerous) but in here was the familiar scent of soil and sun-warmed plants with the musty sort of enclosed-space smell overlaying it. His expression turned into something approaching a smile as he glanced around, moving ahead of his nurse for once.

She seemed encouraged by his enthusiasm, and stopped him long enough to offer him a tray of seedlings, with the suggestion that he go ahead and transplant them into an empty space in the herb bed. He bobbed his head in a vague sort of nod and settled down, almost cheerfully digging a small hole in the indicated spot and reaching inside to test how dry the soil was. Maybe if he didn't look around, he could pretend he was back at work in the 4th Division headquarters....

[free]