[M58]

...Had the day passed? He was not even aware of time's passing. If one was to be honest, he did not know if he had been sedated for the course of the day, or in some sort of catatonia. He registered motion, movement, but did not see fit for those things to be his own. The day passed. Continued to pass. And Albedo let himself slip away and thought nothing. Tried to think nothing.

It was perhaps the combination of sounds. The click of the door being unlocked registered as something valid to be aware of. That, and--

That man's voice had taken on a personal note now, something of recognition in the tones. He knew this person now. He knew the appearance to match the voice, the smirks to match the schemes. And he knew--

"'Father of lies', hm? You were very right to call him dramatic, boy."

There was a beat of nothingness, and then somewhere it registered. The man was speaking to him, and what Albedo had said. How trite. A reply of such means when--

Ah. A reply to what Albedo had said last night.

The boy's eyes widened, mind dulling to stillness, and he burrowed deeper under the covers, darkness taking his sight.

[M39]

When the intercom came on after lights out and it failed to stir his roommate from sleep, Kotetsu began to worry. Castiel's nurse didn't seem too bothered by it and simply left him a meal on his bedside table in case he woke up. After his encounter with their food and the reaction his stomach seemed to have with it, the older man decided to just skip dinner for now. The queasiness hadn't dissipated yet, but it hadn't grown worse which Kotetsu knew was a small victory.

"Castiel?" he whispered, not wanting to disturb the guy if he really was just sleeping. "Castiel, are you awake?" It was such a stupid question to ask, but it always seemed a necessary one at the time. With no reaction, Kotetsu slipped off his bed quietly and slowly stepped closer to his roommate. Now that he was there, towering over the man as he slept, Kotetsu felt like he should just turn around and forget it, but worry trumped embarrassment.

"Hey, Castiel?" he called out, louder this time. "You, uh, okay?"

No response.

Okay, worry was ratcheted up to anxiety. He leaned over the man to see if he could see the rise and fall of his body. It was so dark in their room that he couldn't see much detail other than Castiel looking like a lump on the bed.

[Castiel~!]

[From here.]

Even though Harvey knew that it would make more sense to wait until he'd run into someone else who he could question about what he'd missed, that didn't stop his mind from speculating even further. His own situation -- why he'd slept so long, how much had gone on while he'd been unconscious -- was obviously his largest concern, but now he was also directing some of his attention to what he remembered of Landel's announcement.

Turning into monsters. It had seemed like some sort of analogy before, but now that he was more awake Harvey had to consider the possibility that it was completely literal. He had no idea if he was experiencing any symptoms, but he also didn't know what he would need to look out for.

With everything else that was going on, that was really the least of his concerns at the moment. If he started vomiting blood or breaking out into sweats, he'd start to worry. But seeing how he'd been in his room this whole time, he doubted that he'd caught whatever might be going around the institute.

That was one consolation, at least. And now he was almost at the main hall, so he'd get to see if he was somehow the only patient left or if he was just overreacting.

[To here.]

[From here.]

It was only after Harvey had made his way down the first hall and moved into the next one that he realized he still had bandages covering his face. It was wrong that he was getting used to the feeling of the gauze smothering his wounds, but he had no choice when the nurses kept constant watch on him during the day. He'd been too disoriented upon waking up to rip them off the way he usually did in his room.

That wasn't about to stop him now, though. After rearranging some of the items in his hands, he pulled the bandages off with the same amount of roughness -- something that he paid for when some of the dried blood and flesh came with them.

He let out a groan of pain, but that only lasted for a split second before he let the trail of bandages fall to the floor. Seeing how he'd slept so long, it made sense that the gauze had clung to his wounds more than normal.

At least that was taken care of now. With a grunt, Harvey sent a glance around the empty hallway and then exited out through the door.

[To here.]

[From Here]

Of course, as soon as he thought about what Tolten could be planing for the night, Locke's thoughts went to Edgar's comments on the board; not for the first time since Tolten's post, Locke found himself silently cursing his friend's teasing. 'What if he's right' was a thought that plagued Locke as he entered the main hall and turned left towards the hall that would take him to Tolten's room.

He just had to keep himself calm and ignore those thoughts. Surely that's not what Tolten had meant...besides, from what Locke could tell, his friend had wanted time to think everything over-which was fine-and it had only been a bit over one day so...

Locke decided he was going to have to find some way to get back at Edgar for messing with his head like this. Maybe if his head wasn't so fuzzy this whole thing wouldn't be as confusing.

[To Here]

[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]

Rose: Be the other girl

She was still Rose Lalonde, but, in the blink of an eye, she was no longer where she had last been.

She looked around. Driven earth, stretching out beneath her feet. Not surprising. The fact that it was all a uniform beige, with no checked pattern pounding across it, a little more so. She looked up, into the light, and set her jaw.

Showdown time.

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.

Castiel never came to dinner. It should've been a relief, in a way, except if there was only one benefit having his ribs broken, it was that Stefan didn't have to worry about harming his roommate. Stefan spent the time in silence, too restless to nap or eat, pacing a little in the small space between his desk and closet. He didn't consider wandering into Castiel's half even once — doing so would be like admitting that the man wasn't coming back, as irrational as that was.

But his roommate didn't show, and Stefan didn't get a hint about his whereabouts until the intercom piped up again. A few of you were fortunate enough to be selected to help us... Trepidation filled him as he stood before the exit, his knife in hand. What did that mean? Right now, Stefan was probably the only person who could know Castiel had been "selected" — should he find someone who knew him? Leave a note? He knew Castiel had friends, from what he'd read on the bulletin board...

Stefan didn't get long to consider it. He'd scarcely stepped out into the hall when, out of nowhere, alarms blared and a woman's oddly cadenced voice began chanting warnings over and over. The sound rattled uncomfortably in Stefan's finely tuned ears, but his focus was now taken up by the pink light which rushed through the hallway next. Pain, he expected now. Debilitation. Confusion. Danger.

In the stillness which followed, he didn't get any of that. In fact, he felt... Weird was the wrong word for it. Weird, he realized, was what he'd been feeling before. His skin itched under his bandages, and almost without thinking, Stefan unbuttoned the top of his shirt and reached in to peel them off his shoulder, and knew before he did what he would see.

His wounds were completely gone. Torn skin and muscle, bruises and cracked bones. Gone. And not just that. His hearing, his sense of smell, all those little things he'd taken for granted after 145 years of being a superhuman monster... He was himself again.

There was a moment's guilt at the first emotion which Stefan registered. Elation and amazement, close enough to that rush he'd felt after he'd turned, drunk on blood and the power of being a vampire, that he wanted to recoil from himself. But it wouldn't last. It hadn't for Edward. He was likely to go back to being deafened and crippled in the morning... but until then. There was no point to feeling guilty about the plus sides. Lexi had taught him that. It wasn't all a curse.

Stefan smiled and ran, becoming little more than a blur as he sped through the hallways to Elena's room.

[to here]

[from here]

"Well, now," the boy murmured, voice filled with dry humor. "So you have a creature from myth, trials of combat, and now puzzle pieces to fit a door. And what next?"

It was a small and slender hallway, that at first glance, seemed to lead nowhere. Albedo moved further in, the group behind him almost forgotten. For therein laid the other puzzle. Beasts and creature alike, and where there should have been a door, there instead was a head of a serpent. With such a clear explanation in regards.

His hand moved without a thought for the moment after, finger pricking on the fang nearest to him. For who else to have wound themselves than the one who could regenerate it away? With that thought, he turned to smirk at Yomi. Her, too. She was the other one who would have no problem with this. And didn't she want to see where this led?

[from here]

Turning the corner, Vino found that, in fact, he was very much early, it seemed. Huh. There was no one yet in this central hallway, though if he looked back towards the west side of the building, that strange person with the unnatural-looking white hair had gone down that end of the big hallway. He could still see the whiteness of their hair standing out from the darkness of the atmosphere around them.

He spent a few moments watching this person, then lost interest, instead finding the nearest wall to lean against to wait for the other person to show. Healing powers! He'd be able to see them in action, right? Vino wondered what it was like, having an injury healed with the kind of abilities that this kid had. Would it be like Czeslaw's 'healing,' he wondered? That would definitely be interesting to see, wouldn't it? Watching your own injury just mend itself like that. Like magic!

But while this ability certainly could be a useful one to have, Vino hadn't decided yet whether this would be an ability he'd want in his arsenal. Felt a bit like cheating, didn't it? What would be the point in challenging yourself to do things if there was no thrill in it? (Most people would call this the 'thrill of danger,' but Vino didn't believe in such a thing for himself.)

If you could always heal yourself from any injury, then how could you tell the difference between being alive and... not? There'd be no difference then, that's what!

A pause in his thoughts as Vino checks around again to see if he can spot any familiar head of spiky hair. Nope, no one fitting the description yet. He settles in to wait.

((From here.))

As he stealthily moved through the hall, Spock noted that it was quiet and dark. He didn't detect other patients, nor any hostile lifeforms. Perhaps the rest of the way leading to Dr. McCoy's quarters was in a similar state.

Regardless, it was best to move as quickly as possible. The early portions of the shift tended to be the quietest, which meant Spock needed to take advantage of the still hallways while he could. He hadn't forgotten about the military's cryptic message, or the unusual silence toward the end of their meal period. It was possible something would interrupt their plans later, which made time of the essence. If they were caught in the middle of a meld, the results could be disastrous.

Walking at a brisk pace, Spock allowed his light to illuminate his immediate path and continued ahead.

((To here.))

For some reason, the way that lights out came about was downright unsettling. He was used to a voice coming on to acknowledge that the day was over. Of course, his memories of this time of the day were all pretty fuzzy, seeing how it was right around now -- after dark -- that it all got really strange. In the day he could at least understand that he'd simply been talking nonsense, but it was in the nighttime hours that his insanity was even harder to believe.

As the lights shut off, Michael sucked in a breath. Nothing was going to happen. He could just move from his desk over to his bed and everything would be --

Click.

For a moment, he wondered if he'd imagined it. It had to all be in his head. He swiveled in his chair and stared at the door, as if waiting for it to swing open on its own. He shook his head. "No, it isn't--"

But before long Stefan had gathered his things (including that knife) and headed straight through the door as if it was completely normal, leaving Michael to sit there and fight with his instincts. It didn't help that he didn't know what was the stronger urge -- to forget what he'd just seen and sleep the night away, or to look into this and get a lay of the land once and for all.

It was possible that he was hallcinating right here and now, but it all felt so real. More than that, he still felt like himself. It wasn't as if he was starting to believe all of that stuff about the Apocalypse and Lucifer and the Horsemen again. No, he was Michael and he was still seeing this, so maybe some of what he'd experienced the past week was real. Maybe the hallways had been open to them (for what reason, he couldn't understand) and it was just the monsters and coliseum fights that were fake.

Either way, when it came down to it Michael was a detective and his curiosity wasn't something he could fight off so easily. Eventually he stood from his chair, arms tensed as he went looking for the flashlight in his drawer. There it was. He flicked it on and was about to head out the door when--

He paused, remembering Stefan's knife, and glanced over his shoulder. There was no way he'd actually taken those drugs last night, was there? That had to all have been one huge delusion, and yet he realized that he didn't feel safe stepping out of the door without some sort of weapon on hand. Not for possible monsters, though; what if some crazed patient attacked him?

The man heaved out a sigh and then walked over to his bed, bending down to find that there was a metal box hidden under it. His eyes widened as he reached out to drag it into the middle of the floor and after a moment's hesitation, he opened it.

Pointing his flashlight beam down into it, Michael saw that it was as he'd half-expected: a short blade was sitting there, the shape somehow familiar. He tried to shove that thought away, grabbing for it and then closing his eyes as he realized that it felt right in his hand.

"No," he snarled. "No, no." But even though he was rejecting the feeling, he wasn't stupid enough to leave it behind. Michael stood, blade in one hand and flashlight in the other, and then turned toward the door. It was now or never, and after taking a deep breath he strode toward the door, then through it, then down the hall. He tried not to think about how routine it all seemed.

[To here.]

Anise woke up feeling lucky to be alive. She still felt a bit waterlogged, even though her skin, hair, and clothes were completely dry. During last night's adventures, she'd swallowed a lot of water, and it still felt heavy and disgusting in her stomach. Her arms and legs were tired from treading water. Lying still in her bed, she still kind of felt like she was floating and bobbing in the water.

But she was alive.

Knowing how close she came to death last night, and remembering the lengths her friends had gone to in order to save her, there was no way Anise could let a little discomfort get her down. She had to be at her best today so she wouldn't seem ungrateful to Guy and Claude. On that note, she had to remember to thank them properly, now that she was better able to express herself.

While getting ready, Anise was surprised to actually run into Claude that morning. He came to her room asking for the notebook he stored there (or maybe it was an excuse to see her cute face again), so Anise happily located it and handed it over. She was pretty tired, but the big smile she gave him was genuine. Who wouldn't be happy to see her savior so soon after a dramatic rescue?

After he left, Anise finished re-tying her pigtails into a low position so the military beret would fit on her head, and then she was ready! Even though her stomach wasn't feeling that great, she figured sitting down to a decent meal would help normalize it. And luckily for her, she was among the few who had the privilege of eating such a meal. Anise filled a plate with french toast topped with syrup and fruit, accompanied by small portions of each of the available side dishes.

It looked like she was early, which meant there weren't a lot of people around. That was okay, though. Anise could get a good head start on her meal before any company came around. She sat down at a table by herself and started on her sausage first.

[for Tolten!]

[From here]

Just like the janitor's closet upstairs, the space was cramped. Unlike the janitor's closet, however, it looked like everything in here was a bit harder to get at. Most of it was packed up in cardboard boxes or in closed cabinets. From what she could see on the labels, though, at least some of the stuff looked like it might be worth picking up. She wasn't much for medical stuff herself, but she knew others were; it was good to get that stuff out in the patient blocks where it was safer than making people come find it in places like this.

"Guess this is the part where we get to do a little shopping, huh?" she remarked with a faint grin, starting by pulling down a box of spare hospital gowns and slicing it open with the edge of her sword. She dumped most of the gowns out in a corner, but kept a couple in and held onto the box itself. It was going to be useful for carrying things, she thought as she made for the cabinets.

Edgar's charming company had raised Anise's spirits enough that not even the Head Doctor's voice could bring them back down. Besides, she was feeling pretty sure that Landel wasn't actually around. To begin with, it wouldn't make sense, and secondly, his announcements sounded suspiciously like ones she'd already heard before. While Anise wasn't very familiar with Earth technology, she'd seen the little devices in the Music Room that could play recordings of people's voices. This had to be something like that.

It wasn't long before Anise was escorted to the Cafeteria, and then to the section where edible food was being served. As she filled her plate with waffles, fruit, and sausages, she looked to the other side of the counter with a look of sympathy. It was hard to enjoy her own meals while knowing what the other patients had to suffer through.

She wasn't about to refuse her meals just out of guilt, though. Anise needed her strength for tonight. There was still a bit of a nervous twist in her stomach whenever she thought about what could happen down in the basement... but she wasn't going to back down. Not after promising her friends they'd go together.

With her tray in hand, Anise seated herself at an empty table in the middle of the room. She preferred to have company while eating, but it looked like she was one of the first patients there, so there was no one to sit with. Maybe if she minded her manners and tried to look her cutest, she'd attract someone handsome! Holding her utensils delicately, she began to cut her waffles into smaller pieces.

[For Battler.]

It figured that night would end before Rita and Taura could progress any further. Rita wasn't particularly disappointed to wake up abruptly, as they had reached a dead end. Really, the institute was doing them a favor by bringing them back to the starting point, where they could regroup.

What she didn't appreciate was the loss of valuable time, and the fact that her equipment had been confiscated once again. Rita didn't have time to mess around... which was precisely why the cheery voice broadcast over the intercom only served to grate on her nerves more than usual. In fact... how was the Head Doctor even giving that announcement? She doubted he'd managed to take the institute back in such a short amount of time, though the broadcast itself was suspicious for a number of reasons. Even though she could clearly hear the man's voice, it didn't necessarily mean that he was there. She had to look at things critically.

Still, it seemed almost as if everything had returned to normal... with a few exceptions. The different staff was one, and her lack of possessions was another. It didn't seem like the staff was expecting to fool the patients into thinking this was the same old institute, so why...?

Even as she went about preparing for the day and walking to her first destination, Rita kept her most pressing questions in mind, coming up with multiple hypotheses to explain what was happening. Since she didn't expect that the Chapel would hold anything of interest to her, Rita opted for the Sun Room instead. She was interested in seeing the bulletin board, for one.

When she entered the Sun Room, Rita brought a pen and her journal with her. If no one approached her, she would at least have a chance to document her discoveries from the previous night. First, however, she checked the bulletin board, only to find it completely empty. That confirmed a few suspicions of hers. Content to see evidence supporting her ideas about the strange occurrences, Rita sat down on a couch, opened her journal, and began to write.

[Free!]

[From here.]

It seemed the he was one of the first out tonight, though Castiel was not surprised that he had adapted to this routine so quickly. Heaven had involved far too much routine, and while being able to use his wings would have sped up this process a noticeable amount, he could at least make the nightly walk go by as swiftly as possible.

The halls were empty. Some people would have been frightened of a dark, quiet hallway, and yet Castiel hardly gave it a second thought. If he felt cold spots or saw flickering lights he would be on his guard, but at this point his only concern was getting to the meeting point.

[To here.]

Once again, dinner had passed by quietly, though Castiel could not complain about some solitude, even if it was spent in the company of one troubled teenager. He had gotten by with only a few bites of the food, the "Tasty Meal" from earlier having done an adequate job of sating his hunger.

And food would be the last thing to consider now that the lights had gone out and the doors had unlocked. Everything was silent tonight, and yet Castiel had to admit he preferred it that way. His roommate, the intercom system -- while a speech from the General might have granted them some more scraps of information, in this quiet he could truly focus.

Which was why he was able to collect his flashlight and radio within seconds, reminding himself once more of how he needed to arm himself better. That was something he should have asked Dean about, although it would be a hit to his pride to admit that he was the only who needed advice in this situation.

There was no place for pride, however. The next time they spoke, he would ask.

But it was another human entirely who he was meeting tonight. While he still knew very little about Orihara while the young man knew entirely too much, it was one of the few connections he'd made here and he needed to exploit it.

Castiel gave a small nod in Stefan's direction and then left the room and stalked down the hall.

[To here.]

Waking carried a sense of disappointment along with it for the first time in a long time. Klavier actually sighed in irritation when he realized where he was. Damn it all. So they hadn't managed to move quickly enough to cover as much ground as they had hoped. It was a shame, really. Last night had actually proven to be relatively productive. If they'd had the chance to continue on for longer, they might have been able to gather a lot of very good information. That was probably the point. As it stood, however, maybe he shouldn't be all that unhappy. It's not as though he came away from it completely empty-handed, after all.

He sat up just as "Lieutenant General Berg" was making his announcement regarding the day's proceedings. So they were still going on this scheduled trip of theirs, hm? Strange. He'd never understood the point of these trips, and it made even less sense now with the new management. Maybe there was actually some kind of point to these trips that he hadn't been able to grasp just yet. That none of them had. Hmm. And... they were giving them access to money? Granted, it wasn't terribly much, but it was still more than one would expect to be allowed. Why would they be encouraging them to actually buy materials?

These mysteries would have to wait, it seemed. Shortly after the announcement finished, Klavier's escort from yesterday entered the room, dressed in a hospital uniform rather than anything even remotely military. Without waiting for any kind of question or greeting, the man simply nodded at him and handed him a bag with his change of clothes and supplies, telling him to be quick about changing. ...Huh. It seemed the routine hadn't changed at all despite everything else. Looking down at the contents of the bag, he could see they'd decided to go back to giving him the thrift store, grunge-rock look rather than that ugly monstrosity from last week. Not that a mismatched plaid shirt and worn jeans made all that much better of an option, but... Well, at least he wouldn't look like some sort of derelict this time.

After changing and putting on the ragged jacket and black gloves provided, Klavier followed his escort to the usual set of buses. He wasn't exactly happy about going on this trip again, especially since it just dug up a mess of horrible memories. But he went along with it quietly, determined to play the part of the observer on this trip. This opportunity came about only once a week, and he wasn't going to give them any excuses to keep an extra close eye on him. He was actually in a surprisingly calm state today. Not chipper-looking, but collected enough. Much better than how he'd been most of the week. Though he was still positively famished. Which was why the calm mask completely slipped when he was actually handed a paper bag... of food. Normal food! He almost could have snatched it from the man giving them out. He hadn't actually had any kind of proper meal in days. Mostly his own fault. And now in the face of real food, he could feel it all that much more severely.

Not bothering to be picky at all, he climbed into the bus, took one of the first seats he spotted, and immediately opened the bag to start eating. He didn't even care how he might have looked while doing so. Forget propriety. He was starving. And this... This was... The best. Muffin. Ever.

[for the stupid demon-child]