[from here]

Beatrix had walked this path to the Sun Room so many times, she could do it in complete darkness. Which was exactly what she was doing. Knowing the way, there was little need for light as it would only draw creatures and other unwanted attention. Silently counting her steps, at the right number, the assassin headed left and down the hallway.

[to here]

Kaworu immediately gravitated towards the keyboard. It was not a piano, not truly, but it was attractive in all of the same ways. Music freed the mind from conscious thought, and Kaworu was feeling exceptionally weighed down by exactly that. There was a heaviness, as well as a lightness. He did not know where to begin approaching the situation with Shinji. It was a simple task to forget such things when the problem itself was caused by such an enamoring distraction.

Shinji needed to survive, he was supposed to continue, and yet he was here. This place would take his life without needing a reason. A soul so important could simply be put out, and the world would continue as it always had. It seemed wrong, but was it because it was not the way things should be, or simply because Kaworu wished it were so?

And yet, Kaworu could not say he was unhappy. He had done nothing to earn himself more time with Shinji. He had made his decision, and created for himself a fate apart from the Lilim. But as much as many Lilim wished the world to work in those terms, it rarely did. Events would move into place regardless of their actions. It was rare that something happened because an individual deserved it. It was only chance. Kaworu knew that he should not have been glad, but being with Shinji was indescribable.

His long, bony fingers moved across the keys easily, constructing Ode to Joy with each progressive note.

[Reserved for Albedo.]

Peter woke up suddenly, his body twisting in the bed and then forcing him to catch his breath in pain. Pain, which was coming from his middle because of the thing that had scratched him last night, and after that...

After that, Zach had jumped in front of him like some kind of martyr, like the exact opposite of everything Sylar stood for, to take the next hit for him. It got pretty fuzzy after that, so night must have ended right around then.

The man let out a pained grunt as he straightened himself up in bed. For some reason, he got the feeling that he'd slept in. There was no way for him to really tell without a window in the room, but he just knew. The fact that Sam's bed looked long since vacated was another clue.

Sam, but was he Sam again? Had the brainwashing worn off, as he and Roland had hoped, or was he going to have to go through this nightmare for even longer? He didn't know how long he could handle "Zach" and "Harrison" before he started going batty himself.

Pulling himself out of bed, Peter lifted his shirt and saw that he was tightly bandaged. The scratch most likely wasn't nearly as bad as the bite that "Zach" had received, but it still smarted. He let his shirt fall and then had to deal with a nurse chiding him for sleeping through the morning announcements. Not that Peter really cared at the moment. He was too busy thinking about last night and the fact that in a way, he now owed something to Sylar. Except it hadn't been Sylar. That was something he was sure of now.

Lost in his thoughts, Peter reached the Sun Room right as the rest of the patient populace was trickling in from breakfast. Sighing to himself, he headed over to the bulletin board and then saw a note written in familiar yet unpleasant handwriting. Holding his pen in a vice grip, Peter scribbled out a reply and then stalked over to an armchair and fell into it with a huff.

While Sylar was maddeningly frustrating, there was one good thing about the fact that he was himself again. It meant that Nathan was too.

[For Spock!]

For the second time, Rika found herself waking with a start. She blinked at the grey light streaming through the windows, and looked across the room. Anise was still asleep. So. I'm still here. Let me just check...

Rika put on her slippers and walked over to the desk, checking the drawer and breathing a light sigh of relief. Good, the knife was still there. She wasn't sure why it would be there - shouldn't they have confiscated the weapon? Either way, though, as much as she was reluctant to use it, she was glad to have it still there.

Just then, she heard the creak of the open door, and quickly closed the drawer. Her nurse peeked in, whispering, "Rachel? Time for breakfast. You should put on a sweatshirt, it's a bit chilly." Rika nodded, quickly adding the extra layer and following the nurse out into the hall and to the cafeteria.

She was used to a Japanese-style breakfast, so the idea of something sweet - which the nurse was avidly describing, with the waffles and fruit and syrup - was a bit odd. Once she walked in, though, she had to admit it smelled good. She filled her plate with waffles topped with blueberries, some sausage, and eggs, took a glass of orange juice, and took a seat. It seemed she was early, so she took a seat close to one of the windows and waited.

[For Ange.]

[From here.]

The stairs were surprisingly empty. The light of the Scarecrow's flashlight managed to push back the shadows, but it didn't make the atmosphere any more inviting; if anything, it made the shadows seem deeper.

The Scarecrow put his hand on the hand rail, careful with his footing on the climb upward. He was much better on his feet than he had been a few days ago- perhaps it was a sign he was adjusting well to his new-found humanity? That would be encouraging, and certainly a benefit to the health of his elbows. He wasn't sure they'd recover from all the falls he'd taken.

He looked over his shoulder at his new acquaintance. "I don't believe I introduced myself," he said, taking another couple of steps upwards. "I'm the Scarecrow, from Oz."

[from here]

It was quiet so far up here. Sam couldn't see anyone around unlike how it'd been downstairs. Which actually put him in more of his comfort zone, really. Wasn't often they did a hunt while other people were strolling through the halls of what basically amounted to an abandoned building and he could never shake the feeling he needed to clear the area before anything happened. He probably should've gotten used to the patients ambling through by now, but old habits were hard to shake.

He followed Dean into the joining hallway, scanning the rear with his flashlight while Dean looked ahead. The last time they'd gone down this way, they'd come across some spirits on their way out. It hadn't attacked then, but that didn't make it harmless. And from what he'd heard, the dead had made their way here last night, too. At least that didn't look like it was happening again. So far.

Sam cast a side glance at his brother. He was starting to wonder if he was maybe going about this the wrong way, if maybe looking for answers in every place possible wasn't what he was supposed to do considering it'd, you know. Worked out so great the last time. But it was what he was good at. The only thing he knew how to do well that he didn't have to feel guilty about or like it was all gonna go wrong if the scales tipped just a bit off.

[from here]

Something didn't feel quite right about the building as Beatrix stepped out into the hallway. Moving to the left, she put her back against the wall to wait for Wonka to arrive. She wasn't sure what didn't feel right about it, but her instincts were warning her to expect more of the unexpected and to trust what she felt, not her eyes.

A flicker of movement out of the corner of her eyes, yet nothing was there. Her eyes narrowed. Yes, something wasn't quite right.

[waiting for Wonka]

The day had been relatively quiet for Ken, for which the boy felt a deep-seated gratitude. Things had been less than savory the last few days; a little time for himself was a refreshing element. He only needed to return the bat to Phoenix, pick up his spear from Ururu, and finish gathering the last of the items for...

He had not taken two steps from the room when a dizzy spell hit him, forcing the child to take a minute breather against the bat in his hands. What had gotten into him? Exhaustion? Sudden increase in movement? He couldn't be sure.

The spell soon passed, and after a brief consideration, the child continued. He couldn't keep this waiting any longer.

[To here.]

[from here]

Even distracted as he was, Suzaku remembered to stay on his guard as he passed into the main hallway. He would only be here for a moment, but there could still be a monster lurking in the darkness. And it was so quiet and deserted just now that he would make easy prey.

[to here]

[from here]

Okay, turn right. Now it was just down the really, really long hall and then they'd head in the same direction they'd been going before. This wasn't so bad! ...A little boring, and a tad creepy, but not bad! Especially because he had Loz with him. And if recent events had taught anything, a heavy application of friends solved everything.

[From here]

Okay, so far so good. He got a bit turned around for a moment, trying to remember whether to go left or right, but he'd figure that out quick. It wasn't like--Woah! He swore he'd just seen something weird for a second, but with two human eyes? No way to tell.

Hello! I.R.I.S. here once more to announce to you, our honored guests, that you have officially made it through a day of our typical Landel's treatment. Of course, it isn't quite over: we will now have you retire to our designated patient quarters with one of your agency partners to inspect their sleeping area and the tools that we provide them with for the true bulk of our behavioral testing. On an added note, we would like you to notice once again that the meals we provide to our subjects are of the highest quality.

For those of you feeling apprehensive about taking part in our more intensive methods, please be aware that we would never imagine putting all of you in any danger whatsoever. This last shift will be your last at our Institute; afterward, we will escort you to our Head Doctor's personal observation station to survey some of our test Next-Wave participants in the rigorous trials we put them through – all for their betterment, of course.

Once again, we hope that you are satisfied with what you find, and as always, direct any questions you may have to your console.

The nurses began to escort the patients to their rooms. They didn't even seem to be brought to awareness by words such as "testing" and "subjects."

[ 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 all of the newly changed room assignments and shift introductions here.) If you are introducing your character during this shift, you may either choose for them character to wake up before their roommate gets back, or after. ]

Beatrix glanced briefly at the bulletin board before she headed into the library. It wasn't as if she had any interests in the book, but there was something about browsing book shelves that gave a person time to think while reducing the odds that someone would bother her.

Between her conversation with Venom and the one with Depth Charge, she had a lot to think about and little patience for unwanted interruptions. The library was wonderfully silent as she slowly walked to the back shelves.

[SubZero]

Sam frowned when he heard the intercom message. That didn't sound right. He'd gathered from his conversation with Sen that everybody in the institute was sane, but that the staff were trying to convince them they were mental patients for some nefarious purpose. So why that announcement? If Sam knew anything about brainwashing, he knew that it was a bad idea to announce it to the brainwashees. Good thing he was immune to...

"Oh no," mumbled Sam, feeling the top of his head. He wasn't wearing his hat, and if he wasn't wearing his hat, he wasn't immune to mind control. His mind was totally open to whatever insidious brain... control... things this place planned to inflict on him.

They seemed to be leaving him alone for now, though, so he headed back into the Sun Room and inspected the bulletin board, which was very hard to miss now that he was looking for it. It was plastered with messages, some signed with strange aliases, and some babbling about zombies.

Sam read the messages closely, engrossed. The biggest thing he'd learned about solving cases these days was that it was important to read everything. Talk to everyone too, but that could wait. Even that short conversation with Sen had taken all of brunch.

[for Scott Pilgrim]

The intercom message was unnerving. Again with this I.R.I.S. thing, and some nonsense about guests and tours. What the hell was going on? Was the head doctor really dead? That seemed to be the theory, but Asch couldn't be sure. He hadn't thought this place could get any nuttier, but apparently, it could.

Asch wasn't sure he even felt like eating, but the nurse insisted. So he got his tray of food and sat in the corner of the cafeteria, away from the other patients. He was well aware that this particular strategy was flawed, of course, as it had yet to provide him with anything resembling peace and quiet.

He hoped against hope, though, that he wouldn't be bothered. That annoying guy that used to room with the replica had no reason to come and bother him, and he'd spoken to Claude yesterday. He knew that the man from the night before - Apollo, that was what he'd written on the bulletin board - wanted to repay him somehow, but that wasn't exactly going to happen at a lunch table.

He reminded himself that he'd have to take the kitchen shears to Alfred to exchange for the meat cleaver, once night fell. The cleaver wasn't his first choice of weapon, but it beat the hell out of stabbing things with shears.

He took a drink of his juice and sighed. Maybe he'd get in contact with ZEX regarding night shift; he wasn't sure he wanted to venture out alone.

[Guy]