[for Sylar, I believe]

At the sound of the intercom, Wally jerked awake and blinked around at the room. He’d fallen asleep. He should have been up and keeping an eye open for ZEX, but he’d fallen asleep waiting on his bed.

“Idiot,” he groaned, ruffling his hair and sighing in annoyance. “Way to help a guy out, hotshot.” Hopefully ZEX hadn’t dropped by and thought he’d left or something, or wouldn’t be too mad at him for just forgetting about it like that. If he was lucky, he’d be able to catch up with the other patient at some point and explain what had happened.

Rolling himself a little awkwardly out of the bed, Wally took the opportunity to stretch his injured leg and test how well it was holding up. It was feeling a bit better, not so much that he could abandon his crutch or that it didn’t pull painfully if he wasn’t careful, but better. Tony had apparently made it through the night in one piece as well, which was a relief. He really didn’t feel comfortable about the thought of his roommate wandering about on his own with an injured arm. Not when Wally himself could relax and fall asleep in the apparent safety of their room.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to let himself forget that one in a hurry.

It was at that moment that the door swung open to admit one of the nurses. She seemed surprised to find him awake and ready to go already, but smiled warmly. “Hungry, are we Mr. West? Well in that case, let’s get you to the cafeteria. The staff have provided some delicious French Toast as well as a range of other foods I’m sure you’ll like. Now will you be needing a hand with your leg, dear?”

“No thanks, I can handle it,” Wally replied, smiling back. After all, it probably wasn’t the nurses’ fault that this place was so messed up, so it wasn’t like picking fights with them would do anything. With a cheery wave goodbye, Wally slowly made his way to the cafeteria, keeping a tight grip on his crutch all the while. Obtaining a plate of food was only slightly less difficult than it had been yesterday – he didn’t have the painkillers to work around this time – but he managed well enough, coming away from the buffet with a tray containing a plate piled high with slices of French Toast and slathered in maple syrup, butter, and sugar, as well as a glass of juice. Not quite as good as some coffee would be right now, but the sugar would hopefully make up for it. And, with how few people were here at the moment, he could afford to take more food than might have been considered ‘normal’ – he’d have most of it gone by the time anyone came to keep him company, then he could just worry about how many extra serves would be allowed before he aroused suspicion.

Feeling pretty happy with how things were looking so far, Wally hummed faintly to himself as he dug in to his breakfast.

[from here]

Wally took a quick look around the hallway before looking back at Tony. "Maintenance closet, nurses' station and maybe a doctor's office? I'm guessing most of that stuff'll be on the second floor, right?" He hadn't seen much of the institute last night, as this was when he'd kicked into superspeed on his way out. Things were mostly a dark blur at that point and even if there had been signs around, he probably wouldn't have noticed them. Though if there were signs, he wasn't sure if he'd trust them at this point.

[Coming from here]

So they still had to deal with one of the brainwashed patients tonight; the rest were being carted off for experimentation. Something had changed in the routine. There'd been a pattern earlier, one night to those "trials", the others for the brain-washed patients. But tonight was different for some reason.

So what made it change?

Sanzo was suspicious of sudden change, mostly because it always signaled something was up.

Was it because of that "Jill" pissing Landel off? Or just pure whim?

Whatever the reason, it wouldn't do the patients any favors.

The doors had unlocked, and Albel the Wicked didn't waste any time with moving out into the hallway. It was still early, so no one was around just yet. Not that the warrior was going to complain about that...

He didn't plan on wasting any time on reaching Fayt's room, so he moved quickly. If the night was going to end again before he had even so much as reached the stupid door, he was gonna be pissed.

[To here]

Yuffie bounced all the way through collecting her lunch, all the way to a good seat- one with a nice view of the whole cafeteria, which was something she'd been missing out on during the past day or so that she'd been stuck in the Institute- and hell, she even bounced into her seat.

A good mood? No, really?

Despite the occasional blip, talking to Sagara had been awesome. He was a fun guy; he wasn't a prude, didn't have a stick shoved so far up his ass it was poking out his eyeballs, and he'd actually had a conversation with her. One that hadn't revolved around doom, gloom or how much life sucked. If she could find other people like that and keep in touch with Sagara, maybe there was a little hope for this place.

After a quick gulp of pink lemonade, Yuffie settled to munching through her food and keeping an eye on the door.

[Waiting for Dean, I think? :x]

[From here, waiting for his bff. ♥]

The walk with the nurse provided little more information; the woman still refused to go into detail on his particular diagnosis. She did reveal, however, that Near's name in this place was Nathan Ritter. Again he noticed the closeness to his real name, but given the woman's insistence on referring to him as either "Nathan" or "Mr. Ritter," Near decided it was safe for the present.

She'd revealed that he would be given a choice to where he would stay for that period of time. Despite her encouragement to choose the outdoor Courtyard, Near instead opted to remain inside. The large window overhead no doubt gave the Sun Room its name, and from the position in the sky, Near would wager that it was mid-morning and approaching noon. The room itself was lobby-like in appearance. Several doors lined the walls, which were painted a mild green--unsurprising, given the calming nature of the color. Accompanying pictures also seemed place to induce a sense of relaxation, completed by the inviting furniture. The only thing that seemed to contrast with the atmosphere, in fact, was the balcony above, on what was presumably the second floor. So the patients were to relax here, and at the same time, perhaps be watched by the keepers?

Interesting.

But clearly what held the most promise for Near was the large board hanging on the far wall. His nurse left his side after he came to the room, and Near approached what was clearly a place for communication and messages. The number of notices signified that it was well used, and the information within was fascinating. Near ignored the patients filing in around him for the moment, instead focusing on reading the various notices as quickly as he could. The information was quite extreme--different worlds, non-humans being forced into human bodies, the dead being brought to life here. Certainly things that one might expect to see in an asylum.

And yet all of it was made much more believable by one note in particular, written in hands Near was intimately familiar with.

A sense of urgency crept into Near's thoughts then. He didn't show it outwardly, save for twirling his hair tighter, tugging at it before freeing his finger. If he was here, and they were here, then who else had arrived? Already Near longed for his toys, or a fingerpuppet kit to make them, the task ideal for filtering through the information. As it stood, the thin paper of his notebook would be a lacking substitute, but the only option at the time.

First, however, Near began to write on several of the notices. There was obviously much more to this hospital than its surface showed, and the push to solve the puzzle was quickly born in his mind.

Artemis Fowl was, yet again, exceedingly displeased to be naked.

As much as Haku insisted that since he had experienced public bathing before, this time would be easier, the feeling was not mutual. Artemis' body was his own personal business, as far as he was concerned, and no one else's. His only comfort was the fact that he was not hideously tattooed anymore with various and sundry insults branding him a moron.

Still, that did not stop him from taking a towel into the shower area once again, Nurse Hedgerow grudgingly allowing it. She could see no other way of getting the boy to bathe. He was as stubborn as ten teenage boys. And after that lecture on psychological torture through means of public humiliation...

The boy let the water run over his head, the towel clutched firmly around his body. And he thought. July. How was it July when it had been fall just a week previous? It was impossible, logically speaking. But what part of this place fit in with any sort of logic Artemis had ever encountered? No, if he didn't let go of the fact that things would be as insane as people claimed he was, he would lose his mind.

His fingers brushed the burn mark Caleb had given him for what seemed the fortieth time. ...He had to get himself together, or this would only be a small taste of what awaited him in the hallways.

[For Omi]

[starting off in M13]

The last part of the night was little more than a blur in Homura's mind. The men had rushed in, but not joined them, instead staying off to themselves. Before any of them had a chance to react, however, a voice sounded through the air, mocking some other person Homura had never heard of, and the patients themselves.

To Homura, whoever that man was, he sounded a great deal like a god.

But before he could ask questions, the demi-god found himself no longer in the chapel, but some strange room on a bed. Is that what Kenren had meant from his earlier warning? Homura sat up, glad at least that the world didn't spin when he did so. Then the same man from before began to speak again, with a completely different tone. It was confusing to hear him talk that way, calling them patients instead of prisoners as he had before. Homura listened quietly as the announcement was made, then got out of bed.

Maybe he wouldn't have to go anywhere yet. It wasn't like Homura knew where to go anyway, and that meant he had time. If this was his room, and if he had been here as long as Kenren had said, there was a chance he could find something with answers. The Taisho had even told him that Homura had seen Rinrei. Certainly he would've written something down, made a map, something that could let him find her again! He started with the desk at the end of his bed, first finding a small stack of notebooks. Picking up the first, he flipped through, turning the pages with quickening desperation as he found each one to be blank.

Yesterday's therapy sessions hadn't been especially long, which would have been a good thing if House hadn't been putting his mind to his patients' problems for once. It wasn't that the two men from yesterday had gotten to him (because their general logic and methods of explaining it had been about as flawed as Cuddy's last date) but more that his own apathy was catching up to him. This place was an intellectual hell for him because there was nothing to do, nothing to diagnose, and maybe that was the whole puzzle. Not even rich crazies could be so relatively healthy in such number, and it was even less likely that they were all suffering from the same delusion.

He'd gone over this in his head already and hadn't gotten anywhere with it, even after scouring the patient files for some common denominator and the hospital files for some possible practitioner of modern mad science. House widened his eyes to wake himself up and leaned forward towards his desk, opening a drawer and grabbing for his vicodin.

He felt like his mind was moving slower than usual, that the pain in his leg came with more frequent intensity as of late. He could have blamed the vicodin for at least the mental issues, but he wasn't the kind to betray his trust in his drug just because of a bad day. Hell, maybe his mind was just moving slower because he'd been so damn bored. Crosswords and endless Bejeweled were about the closest he'd gotten to good entertainment since he'd gotten here.

That and spiking Wilson's coffee last week.

[from here]

Shadow stepped into the doctor's office and was surprised to find how ordinary it looked. There was a desk and a few chairs, a bookshelf filled with different books and papers. It was almost disappointing but what had Shadow expected? It was an office, not some hidden treasure room. The files wouldn't be lying around just waiting to be read.

"I suppose I'll start at the desk," he said. "Maybe there will be files in there. I just hope we don't find it locked as well."

[From here]

The hall was deserted. No competition, but no blundering fools who could act as meatsheilds. Then again, Marcus would probably be unable to tear himself away from the prospect of playing hero in front of everyone.

Recluse examined the nameplates on the doors. "It seems that Doctor Lecter is no longer employed here." Maybe he'd simply disappeared, just as patients seemed to regularly do so.

_{[from here]}

Once his roommate had scampered off, Aidou had been sure to change, desiring the touch of familiarity (even if he’d ditched some of his uniform so as not to blatantly scream "that unknown guy in white who bites people.") as always. He also had more pockets to keep things when wearing his uniform, which meant he could carry his journal and the radio without too much discomfort. And the other items he hoped to collect that night... considering how and why he hadn’t gotten around to them before.

Sighing softly, Aidou moved down the hall to the first male cell block. No, there was no time to be thinking about that.

The real annoyance came from having to carry a useless flashlight that was never on, but on the off chance that he did attract someone’s attention by accidentally stepping into an illuminated spot, the vampire wanted to cover his bases. People like Miku wondered at how well he traversed the pitch black.

_{[to here]}

[From here.]

Sync stifled a yawn as he entered one of the main hallways, already knowing where it led since he’d already spent a majority of his time around the Sun Room that day. He couldn’t help but find himself smirking smugly as fond memories sprouted from those thoughts, wiping at his cheeks as if Anise’s tears were still smeared all over his face.

With Anise, Guy and that bastard Fon Master lingering around, he had to wonder who else managed to get themselves in this mess. From the way the swordsman tried to threaten him, Sync could only assume that there were even more of their allies around. Yet, in the same light, it sounded as if he was the only God-General there as well.

No matter. He knew he was more than enough of a challenge for all of them.

[To here.]

After the couple glasses of water Leon managed to gulp down during breakfast, the mage felt immensely better. He was still a bit tired, but that was nothing a little lounging on one of the sofas wouldn't cure. Stretching his arms above his head, he couldn't help but wish he'd had the chance to grab one of his new doctor's coats before leaving his room that morning. Maybe they would have let him get away with wearing it. Maybe.

He grabbed an empty sofa, pulling out the journal he tried to keep on him at all times. It was nearly complete now. Just a couple more pages to go. It might not improve his spellcasting that much, but any improvement was better than none. It was getting to where it might be too dangerous for him to use spells at all, if it left him so worn out without even finishing a monster off.

Sylar's gears were still turning as the nurse and a burly orderly escorted him down long halls and through a strange, sunlit room. He'd been forced to drop his pen when the orderly had seen it, and since then, he'd realized that this place had better security than he'd originally anticipated, as well as a large population of patients. It looked like he'd have to bide his time for now, pretending to be this 'Zachary Blaine' and trying to figure out how the hell he'd gotten here.

His mind went over and over the events in Mohinder's lab, tracing every second that led up to his unconsciousness. According to the computer logs and the decked-out loft, Mohinder was working for the Company now, so had that woman with the electricity been an operative? Was this all a Company front? Even so, it didn't make sense for them to drop him off somewhere without any close supervision. They knew how dangerous he was. How special he was.

But right now, his abilities had been nullified and he was left only with the option of playing along. It was a very good thing that it was something he excelled at, even with his sudden loss of the cure clouding his thoughts and telling him to do something drastic.

Still, it was fun to take ahold of strings and let someone think they were pulling him when in fact he was the puppetmaster. Who knew? Maybe he could find a new toy now that his last one had worn out.

Sylar took his syrup-covered waffle to a table and tried to keep track of both the security and the people flooding in. Soon, he'd find an opening, a weak link he could exploit. It was only a matter of time.

((Specifically in room M22))

This night was shaping up to be another long and tiring one. Adelheid mentally ran through the checklist of things to do: give a spear to Yukari Takeba, create the sakabatou for Himura Kenshin, sharpen Kenren's blade... and then, if he found a moment to breathe, to do something to let off some of the anger he still felt. At least he wasn't powerless tonight; that was the only good thing for him to look forward to. It had been too long since he'd gotten to fight something that wasn't a patient.

He kept one ear on the radio, still wondering if Jack was honestly gone and convincing himself that such could not be the case. Besides, he was too busy to feel grief now. He had to focus, or else this night was going to be just as frustrating as the previous one.

Dinner was a bland and irritating affair as usual, which was made worse by the presence of a roommate. Such discomfort was a strikingly different reaction than how he felt rooming with Akatsuki at Cross Academy, but that was an entirely separate thing: for one, they were comfortable with each other (family), had no pretences over what they were (bloodsuckers), and had plenty of space (satisfactory accommodations for two young aristocrats). Now Aidou had to be semi-careful around another human, making sure to keep a wary eye on his horde of items, sealing things up securely so no prying hands could get to them, and making doubly sure the kid didn’t get a look at his uniform.

Nor a look at Aidou changing into it, for that matter. Gross. And to think the kid had enough nerve to just post Aidou’s room number on the bulletin board, for “home deliveries“ too, of all things. Couldn’t be helped; the vampire had had to rip that note down and happily tear it up. What an idiot.

Once the doors unlocked and his roommate took off, Aidou immediately changed and stepped out. With no jacket on, Aidou was half in black and half in white, as he wasn’t stupid enough to wear the whole outfit; the black undershirt with the white pants was all. Shutting M52’s door behind him, he put the usual blockade in place by sealing the door shut with ice. (His "roommate" had better not expect to make any return trips.) As if having to dress down wasn‘t bad enough, Aidou couldn’t even continue to investigate the major issues weighing on him this night, or whatever the hell Landel was babbling about this time. No, tonight he was going to be spending his time in prep for other things, which sucked.

And after all of that? Well, the vampire could only hope he would have time to do other things.

_{[to here]}

[from here]

He headed left, moving towards the door that should, if the consistency of this place still held, lead out to the Recreational Field. Hopefully there wouldn't be anything in the way like there had been the night before. Or, if there was, that someone else would have it occupied so he could slip right past. That idiot... and those girls too probably would not be too happy if he ended up with any injuries before actually getting to the room.

[gone here]