[teleporting from here]

S.T. didn't notice the nausea teleportation usually created. Because there was a sword sticking into him. Attached to a guy that he really didn't want to see. "Shit. Who invited you?" he said, gasping, and reaching his hand back to see how bad it was. It came back drenched in red. He sniffed. Licked. Red cranberry juice concentrate. The blade had gone through his shirt and into the container.

There was at least a bit of blood in there, because the ring had a stone again, underneath the goo. Also the part where there was a line across his ribs that felt like he'd been stabbed. Because he'd been stabbed by a psycho who had just given up his possibly-a-brainwashed-buddy immunity to intentional mayhem. He shoved the ring into his pocket, grabbed the pipe before Zombie Boy figured out he had something in his eye. This time it squelched out like hipwaders from knee-deep mud.

S.T. swung the pipe, which slammed into the rails of the shelf instead of turning Zombie Boy's head into a pop fly ball. Oops. "Little help here, Harvey."

[From here.]

That hadn't taken long. So much so that it looked like he was the first person to make it this far. Harvey took a moment to scan the hall with his flashlight, including near the stairs, but he didn't see (or hear) much of anything. It was the sort of thing that set him on edge.

Since he couldn't do much else, he leaned himself against the wall by the stairs and then grabbed for his gun, holding it near his side as he waited. Normally he didn't take the weapon out unless he planned to shoot it, but when there was a possibility that some transformed patient might come barreling down the halls in the next few seconds, he wanted to take precaution.

Hopefully Scott and Sangamon would haul ass over here before all hell started to break loose. If things got too hairy, Harvey was ready to make a run for it on his own. That was the logical thing to do.

[Waiting for S.T.]

[From here.]

This was a trip that had gotten old ages ago, and so Harvey tried to make it as short as possible by falling into a brisk walk. He didn't go so far as to jog, since he didn't need to tire himself out before the action even started, but it was a good idea to save time where he could.

All of that was made very easy by the fact that there weren't any other patients around. He didn't know if it was because they were busy going through a painful transformation into some deadly monster, but if that was it, then he also wanted to get to a more open area sooner rather than later.

Harvey reached the end of the hall and rounded the corner into the main hall.

[To here.]

[From here.]

Harvey stepped out of the block and then took the usual right down the hall, pondering over the coming challenge as he went. While he, Sangamon, and Scott had successfully passed that trial last night, it hadn't led to anything. Had they made a misstep somewhere? Or was there more that they had to do? They were going to have to try and get answers out of that damn skeleton again.

Speaking of which, the toll would be going to Sangamon tonight. Harvey wondered what he'd end up choosing. He figured it was between touch and voice, but it wasn't really his problem.

On one hand, Harvey was getting sick of going down into that dank cavern every night. On the other, it was good to always know what he was doing when the doors unlocked. He just hoped that all of this effort actually led somewhere.

[To here.]

[In M44]

Lloyd had been somewhat dreading the coming of the night, not so much because of the danger it presented, but because of the conversation he'd had with Guy, and the promise he'd made to try to subdue Claude if his roommate showed signs that he was becoming a monster. It was hard not to keep darting glances at the blond to make sure that he was all right. When the doors unlocked, though, he barely even noticed the Doctor's sinister words. He was too busy breathing a sigh of relief. Claude still seemed to be okay. Maybe that wouldn't stay the case, but they couldn't live in fear of the worst. Hoping for the best, he'd wished his roommate luck before the other set off.

Unlike the night before, though, Lloyd didn't immediately set out himself. He and Inoue had agreed to meet tonight so she could try to heal him, which meant he needed to wait.

Ugh, he hated waiting.

Feeling restless, he got up and started poking around around his side of the room. He found pens and a journal on his desk, and a weird device he wasn't sure about. It was in his closet that he found the biggest surprise. His clothes were there, hanging on hangers as though recently cleaned - black pants and a black undershirt, his red jacket and gloves, the red boots he favored, even his belts and suspenders. There wasn't any sign of his swords, but the dagger Claude had given him was there, which lifted his spirits a little. He thought he'd lost the weapon last night after the fight with the tailypo. A quick search of his pockets revealed that there wasn't anything else, but that didn't really surprise him. It was still amazing that he'd been given his clothes at all.

Figuring he had time before Inoue was likely to show up, Lloyd quickly changed out of the drab gray clothes the Institute had given him and into his normal clothes. Well, as quickly as he could with his still-injured arm and ribs protesting his every move. He had to grit his teeth when it came to taking off his shirt and replacing it with his black undershirt. He opted not to put his jacket on just yet. He had no idea how Inoue's healing ability worked and didn't know if she'd need to see his injuries before she could do anything. With the rest of his clothes on, though, his dagger hanging from the loop one of his swords normally would have gone through, there really was nothing else to do but wait.

Maybe he'll just doodle in that book.

What Guy had seen on that scan resulted in some mixed feelings. While he had expected to find something in Claude, seeing how he was sick, it hadn't been quite the same as what they'd seen when they had scanned that other ill patient two nights ago. What did that mean? It was possible that the shape of it just looked different because of where it was in Claude's stomach, but Guy couldn't help but feel that there was a deeper meaning to it.

Yet another thing that he didn't understand, then. With a sigh, he got himself up out of bed and went searching immediately for the single leaf that he'd taken from the X-ray room last night. It was stored carefully in his possessions box, which meant that he didn't have to worry too much about that.

While he wanted to quickly sketch the leaf's general shape to post on the bulletin, Guy wasn't given that chance, as his nurse showed up before he could even grab for his journal. He had to relent and let her lead him to the cafeteria for breakfast. While Guy considered stopping by the bulletin to leave a note, that could wait until after he ate. He suspected that Anise or Luke would try to find him as soon as possible to tell him about their findings, so leaving a note for them would be redundant.

He did need to ask about the clue from last night and see if anyone else had further insight on it, but that might be something Claude wanted to do, seeing how he had a better idea of who that baptist was and what it all might signify.

After collecting a small amount of food onto a plate, Guy took a seat near the cafeteria's entrance, keeping an eye out for any of his friends so he could flag them down as they walked in.

[For Anise and Claude.]

[From here]

It wasn't a California beach.

Instead, they were greeted with a very long, straight hallway, no adornments or interesting colours. Just kind of plain and boring, if a little dimly lit. Honestly kind of a letdown, though Scott. Granted, it wasn't a lava pit, which was a plus, but after things like robot laser dinosaurs and talking skeletons and having to jump off cliffs to nowhere, a hallway seemed kind of unimaginative by comparison.

The one thing of interest was an object on the ground in front of them: a small-ish, heart-shaped... thing, probably made of stone or plaster, and painted a dull red colour.

"Aww, we love you too, Landel. You shouldn't have," Scott remarked, walking up to the object and peering down at it. Was this what it was like to find a Piece of Heart? If so, it was a decidedly underwhelming experience. Too bad there wasn't a Link wasn't on hand to ask.

[From here]

He was ready for the drop this time, but that didn't make it much easier to get down the gravelly slope that waited for them inside the door. Sure, Scott was able to better control his descent and not get horribly scraped and cut this time (always a good thing), but he still went down way faster than he would have liked. He did almost start tumbling head over heels a couple of times, too, despite his efforts to keep moving feet-first. Thankfully, the slope evened out eventually, as it had the night before, and soon the trio were at the cliff's edge once again.

"I call 'not it' for jumping first," said Scott, peering out over the ledge. Being up here and knowing he would actually feel the impact and the cold down below this time? Liiiiitle more apprehension than before.

[From here.]

This was all becoming a bit stale.

Especially the feeling of nausea that came with the transport. Harvey didn't want to think too hard on the implications of that. Just what exactly was done to their bodies when they were moved around like that? It couldn't be natural in any sense of the word, but it still beat trying to get down here the normal way.

His only real consolation was that he couldn't smell anything too well down here. It was a shame that they couldn't just keep on giving up that sense, but even Harvey realized how that wouldn't be "fair" according to Landel's rules. What really wasn't fair was the fact that they'd all been stuck in this place for weeks now, but...

Even he started to get sick of his own complaining, so he left it at that.

Once the other two seemed to have recovered, Harvey nodded toward the docks. "We know the drill by now, right? Let's make this quick." He needed to enjoy his voice while he had it, if that's what he was giving up.

[from here]

Almost there. Soma kept moving. If she stopped now, she'd start thinking about how much worse she felt now than she did this morning, and that would be a terrible mistake to make.

[to here]

Murphy hadn't been interested in talking at dinner, which could be due to any number of reasons, and Harvey didn't really want to find out why. Being too curious would just get him involved in someone else's problems. Maybe Murphy was sick, or someone he knew was sick, but it wasn't Harvey's job to care. He was perfectly content to focus on his own goals and let those who were ill figure out their own issues.

Granted, it might become his issue if five patients were really going to turn into something else tonight -- things that would be out for blood. On the other hand, he had that bracelet that their skeleton friend had given them, which meant that he, Scott, and Sangamon wouldn't be in the hallways for too long.

That meant that they needed to meet up fast, though, and while Harvey wasn't eager to be the first one there, he also wasn't about to lag behind. He grabbed for his gun after reloading some of its ammo, picked up his lead pipe and shoved the bone bracelet into his pants pocket. With all of that taken care of, it was time to hit the hallways.

[To here.]

[From here]

The main hallways. Good. And the coast seemed to be clear, so far. Link briefly wondered if the new clue would help the situation, or only make it more grim. He would know soon enough.

[To here]

As some of the clouds from earlier began to clear, the intercom jingle sounded over the intercom once again.

"Hello, patients!" came the Head Doctor's cheery voice. "I hope you're all feeling fresh and clean this evening! To top it all off, we've prepared a scrumptious herb chicken dinner for you to eat before bed. Of course, we have vegetarian options available, so please don't hesitate to ask the nurse if you're interested in that.

Also, since we have the pleasure of welcoming a few new patients into our family, some of you will be receiving new roommates. Let's do our best to give them a nice, big Landel's Institute welcome, shall we?"

The Head Doctor gave a friendly chuckle. "Well, anyway, enjoy your dinner!"

With that, the intercom shut off.

[Note: All dinner threads are posted in response to this entry. Be sure to check the Roommate Assignments if you're not sure what room/roommate your character has! Thanks.]

Seishin didn't have the opportunity to visit the arts and crafts room before, but handicraft wasn't something the former priest had ever been particularly skilled at. He would have been content with remaining in the library, but the nurse insisted that he'd pursue a more social activity than something so isolating as reading a book. Pushing one's own ideas of what was good for them onto others was not something limited to just Sotoba, he guessed, and in the end Seishin had little choice but to quietly follow along.

The room was still empty when Seishin entered, leaving him with little else to do but eying the materials with relative uncertainty.

[Dr. Facilier]

The library was the quietest option, and so, after collecting a grilled cheese she didn't plan to eat, Lana made her way there.

She still felt guilty for not making an effort to see what was in the X-Ray room, even when it had clearly been either a red herring or a clue which had the dual virtues of being both true and useless. That was very like Landel, but knowing how he operated didn't give her any ideas on how to stop it. Except for the most drastic option -- stopping it on the small scale before she could hurt anyone else, but that wasn't much of a solution. She was avoiding thinking on it more than she had to; she would do what was necessary, dwelling on it wouldn't make it anything other than harder.

Though, hmm. If she did, would she wake up convinced like Damon had, that she was Shirley Franklin, slightly disgraced but well-loved detective? With a sister who'd never had think she'd killed a man, and a partner who'd never been abandoned to run the tightest large-scale investigation Lana had ever seen. And a superior who had, at least, recognized that some risks were too high, and that the truth could be surprisingly powerful, when properly applied. That wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Except that she would know it was a lie. Or, more precisely, Ms. Franklin wouldn't; Lana would, but she would be more thoroughly trapped than ever before. It wasn't as appealing when she put it that way.

She hadn't bothered to get out a book, just claimed a chair and part of a table and was looking at her carton of apple juice like it might hold the answers to the rather existential questions she'd been pondering. Either someone would risk talking to someone who was visibly ill, or they wouldn't, and she'd get at least a bit of rest.

[L]

Well, it was about time they got to bathe, that was all Loki really had to say about it. He'd been wondering just how barbaric his captors were. The fact that it was showers only, and no baths for soaking spoke volumes, as far as he was concerned.

But at least there were showers, which was certainly better than nothing. Loki felt something approaching cheerful as he allowed the nurse to lead him on. At the showers he shucked off the ridiculous uniform without so much as a pause and claimed a shower head from those available.

He was used to bathing around others. And as a god among mortals, he definitely had nothing to be ashamed of. Though the warm spray of the shower did let him know that he had some definite bruising on his back from where Kratos had managed to hurl him into that wall, and one of his ribs still twinged occasionally. His jaw still hurt a bit as well, but any bruising there had taken care of itself during the night.

[For the ambiguously gay duo!]

His nurse had whisked him away from breakfast as soon as the intercom’s voice faded.  Surprisingly, she didn’t take him to the shower rooms, instead bringing him to the Sun Room (as she called it), explaining that since this was his first day he would be allowed to skip the showers.  Besides, it would be good to let his injuries heal a little more.

 

He’d passed through this room on the way to breakfast, but hadn’t really paid much attention to it the first time.  Now that he was standing here, the Once-ler understood why it was called the Sun Room.

 

Despite the fact that it was cloudy outside, there was still far more natural light coming in through the ceiling windows than he had seen in a long time.  The Once-ler stood still for a few moments, simply staring up.  It seemed almost like a dream, really.  The valley never got brighter than twilight, even at noon.  There was too much smog in the air to let any more light through.

 

After a few minutes, he shook his head.  Anybody who saw him just standing in the middle of the room would probably have questions about it, and he did not relish the thought of explaining himself to a stranger.  He glanced around the room itself, spotting the bulletin board Soma had talked about during breakfast.  The Once-ler decided that was a good place to start, and hobbled on over to get a closer look.

 

[For Nina, I believe?]

Scar came to slowly, vision blurred and head throbbing. His memory of the previous night was vague and somewhat scattered. What he was most aware of was his renewed and increased hatred for the man called Lingormr. The Ishbalan didn't give a damn if he had been a special counseling patient. That bastard had enjoyed every second of tearing Scar to shreds. What he may or may not have realized was how much it had affected Scar emotionally. He had felt a renewed sense of drive at the start of the night; the disruption on the intercom and the news of the 'cure' had rekindled a fire that fueled Scar to drive forward. To have a little hope.

Lingormr had promptly crushed that.

He was in pain. So much pain. The cut on his hand was only fading scab at this point, but stitches now pulled at the deep gashes in his legs and back. Not only had the nausea not settled, but his stomach was beginning to cramp. The rash on his arm was impossible to hide without the old bandages covering it. It had nearly reached his elbow.

Scar's hazy eyes could make out the nurse, now pushing a wheelchair up to his bedside. This was humiliating. And he was too exhausted and hurting to lash out or become angry. He was just broken. He still tried to take some sort of grudging control, insisting that he didn't need to be pushed around, that he could at least turn the wheels of the damned chair himself. But he didn't make it down the hallway before the pulling and sharp pain in his back became so obvious on his face that the nurse took over.

He entered breakfast with a frustrated, tired, but overall defeated look to him. Scar felt too sick to eat. He sat at the table and brooded, wishing more than anything to simply be left alone.

[For Goku!]

[From here]

...would have been next to impossible even if the door hadn't locked them in.

For you see, when Scott put a foot down just inside the hall, he expected it to hit ground. He was slowly getting used to trusting that ground would be there in the absence of being able to feel it. In this case, gravity told him otherwise. Scott began to tumble — painlessly, painlessly down a darkened, rocky incline, with no way of knowing which side of him was on the ground at any point.

"Whua! Augh! Doh! Fuuu— Sonuv— Rolling! Help! Bah! Uaaaaaaa!"

It was Scott's dumb luck that while the incline was steep, it wasn't smooth all the way down. Eventually, his heel rammed into an outcropping of rock, and Scott's sense of momentum kept him from keeling over forward when it hit. "Uuhhhhhgh..." Scott groaned out of dizziness. He could barely see in this light, but from what he could make out, his coat and pants were in bad shape — dusty, ripped in some places, and completely sliced open from the cuff to the elbow on the left sleeve, where his sword had caught the fabric on the way down. Said sword that was now gone, by the way. He was pretty sure he had heard the tink-tank-tumbling of metal careening down the hill without him.

"Crap..." Scott said as he rolled back the ripped sleeve. He squinted. "Craaaaaap." That was blood. He wouldn't have known it if he hadn't seen it, but there was blood coming from the palm of his left hand. He'd cut it kind of deep, too.

[From here.]

Harvey almost ended up tripping, which would have put him face-first in the sand, but he managed to reorient himself just before his legs gave out on him. His hand flew to his chest as he tried to catch his breath and fight down the nausea. He didn't want to think about how much it would sting to have bile come up and wash over all the wounds in his mouth if he threw up. So that wasn't happening.

The area felt just as damp and cold as the last time, and since it was all something they'd seen before, Harvey didn't hesitate to move forward once he'd recovered. His destination was the dock, and the two torches that were set there made it easy for him to find it.

As he moved toward it, he glanced back at the other two. "So this time we don't even need to draw blood. I guess that works well enough." He would have preferred that the transition was smoother, but it definitely beat having to go through the fridge like they had for so long.