Well, tonight wasn't going to get itself done. Girl-Next-Door wisely kept her mouth shut, meaning Dahlia was nice and refreshed by the time the intercom rolled around to mouth at her with nothing relevant to her interests. What a bore.

She shoved her little prize back into her knife bag and pulled herself out of bed, placing the strap of the bag around her shoulder and flipping her flashlight on. This was stupid. Why should she let Sync drag her around into the night like she was the one being used? Because, she plainly reminded herself with a cheery smile, Sync thought that she was the one being used. Sync was a moron who thought he had the power in this relationship and, so long as he did, he was eating out of the palm of her hand like she wanted him to. She was going along tonight because tomorrow? He was hers.

If he didn't die tonight. Either way, she was getting a show.

Hm... Peering through the door told her nothing was out there so far. If she was quick, they could avoid everything like they couldn't last night. Tch. Time to head out.

[To here]

[in F22]

Falis was sitting on Senna's bed, her back to the wall with the shinigami laying against her, when the weird intercom thingie went off. She looked up at the little box for a moment before frowning. What the fuck had that been? Damnit! Where was Dominikov when she needed him to figure shit like this out for her?

A sharp pain ran through the hunter's left arm accompanied by a searing heat she recognized from the night before. It seemed peoples' fears were going to be true this night. Taking a peak at the flesh underneath her bandage, Falis grimaced seeing the decay return and it work its way up to her shoulder. At least it stopped there, but she wasn't sure it'd stay stopped all night long.

Her eyes slid back to the sleeping shinigami. Falis licked her lips. Damn, she looked and smelled... No. She was not going to do this. She was stronger that whatever fucked up zombie sickness. Senna was important to the hunter. She may be Falis' prey, but not prey like this. Resisting the hunger that lay in her stomach, she idly combed her finger through Senna's hair as she rest her head back against the wall and waited for people to show up or for the shinigami to wake.

[For Kitty!]

That'd been a good nap, and the conversation with Tony had reassured him a little. It was nice to regularly talk with someone who knew what he looked like without the watch. Bracelet. Whatever.

After the long night he'd had, Kurt really wanted to relax. He'd been running this whole zombie-Iris-Where's Martin?-thing around in his head all day. He really didn't want to think about how Peter must be feeling now, nor how utterly screwed they were if zombies tried to get into the building tonight. Well, at least some people would be better armed. Kurt still didn't have a very good weapon, though. He was only good at running away. Or crossing large distances easily. Anyway.

He flopped down on a couch with a CD player and started headbanging to some rock CD. Kurt had never heard of the band, but whatever it was, it was really cool.

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]

Good morning, and welcome to your personalized tour of Landel's Institute! My name is I.R.I.S. and I will be your automated guide during your stay here. If you have any specific questions during our tour, please direct them to the personal console in your welcome bag. We will do our very best to address any concerns you may have.

Today, we will be showing you what a normal schedule for one of our patients will be like by putting you in their shoes. Please go wait for the nurse who will greet you in your room and take you to the cafeteria to have breakfast. On the menu today is: FREE CHOICE. BRUNCH. Since today is Sunday, for this shift, you may GO TO CHAPEL. GO TO SUN ROOM. EAT BRUNCH IN CAFETERIA.

Thank you for considering Landel's Institute as a candidate for your federal training sponsorship. We are glad for the opportunity to serve you and our country!

Goodbye!

The nurses went about their daily duties as if the Head Doctor had made one of his usual announcements.