Kibitoshin left the cafeteria in what could only have been described as a state of sheer, unleaded anxiety. Why did he have to be the one Dory had spoken to first? With everything he’d said and failed to say she’d probably ended up with a reverse education. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she came out of it knowing even less than she had when she arrived.

Hopefully- and he really did hope, more than anything- someone else would be able to start over and tell her what she needed to know, especially since she hadn’t exactly seem altogether… well… there. To be fair, she had been a fish until today. Expecting her to be perfectly normal was maybe a little much.

What he needed now was some peace and quiet. Maybe if he had a chance to calm down he wouldn’t make such a fool of himself in his meeting later that afternoon. The library would do for that, right? If he was lucky (which he never was, but he had to be positive) they’d have that book he hadn’t quite finished in Doyleton (even if he couldn't think of the town without shuddering), the odd one about Lady Esmeralda (which hadn't been very good anyway, but...). A quick scan of the shelves on arrival didn’t turn anything up, but he did manage to find a battered old book called ‘Alice in Wonderland’ to settle down with. Apparently, it was about a girl finding herself in a strange new world. Why did that ring a bell...?

Satisfied, he took a seat and began to flick through the pages.

[free for unlimited poking!]

And there went the pleasant atmosphere within a matter of seconds. Klavier hadn't really been paying attention to the time at all. He figured when it was time to go back, the nurses would corral everyone together as usual. Instead Klavier glanced up from his playing in time to see the store not full of patients or citizens or even workers closing up shop... but some kind of mutated mass that used to call themselves people.

In an instant they poured in, climbed over the counter, and seemed to be rushing straight for him. And with how small the store was, it didn't take more than a few moments to reach him.

"Ah... AaaaaaAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!" Screaming or yelling wasn't very becoming of him, but behavior and putting up an amiable facade were frankly the last things on his mind at the moment. For the first time in his life, he felt absolutely panicked.

What was--?! NO TIME!! They were grabbing at him. The horde had already snagged hold of his legs, the tattered jeans, his shirt, one of his forearms... they were closing in on him before he'd had so much as a chance to realize what was happening. He was completely surrounded by bloodstained mouths. There was no question.

Klavier flailed frantically, kicking his legs to get them OFF! In desperation, he reached his free hand to grab at something on the counter -- ANYTHING -- and managed to grab an exceedingly ugly desk lamp. He swung it hard, hitting one in the arm to drive it back. He'd never fought before. He never liked the idea of arming himself while here either. But such thoughts weren't even reaching his mind at the moment. Pure instinct. GET AWAY! GO AWAY! OFF! OFF!! GET OUT!!

Yes! Outside!! He needed to get outside!! It was a death trap in here!! He managed to get them off him, if just for a moment, and he used the opportunity to barrel into them, shoulder first. He knocked a few down (and almost tripped and fell himself) and simply pushed his way through, swinging the lamp in one hand and desperately clinging to the old guitar with the other. It felt like it took far too long to reach the front door but he managed. He swung it open immediately and ran outside.

[asdlkj, running out here]

The shift was familiar enough, in it's own way, but it came too soon. He wasn't sure if any of the others in the group aside from Stefan had been around long enough to witness this before, but he wanted to reassure them that this was just like the changes the institute underwent at night.

Except it wasn't, this time. Marcus could hear them before he could see them, clawing through the dirt, and paused with his mouth open, losing what he'd been about to say. Then the first hand popped out of the ground, much like the zombified followers of the Banished Pantheon often did. Marcus didn't wait for them to start pulling themselves out of the ground entirely before he spoke, loudly but clearly. "It's time to go. Stefan, Scourge and I will head to the Sheriff's office and secure it, you three get people in Magus Park and down South Street to go there, we'll have it cleared and safe to use as a rallying point. When that fills up we'll take the hardware store," He could hear the moans of the undead off in the distance.

"I suggest you only go halfway down South Street and then go up to Main Street to arm yourselves in the hardware store if you need it, that will also take you past the Sheriff's office so you can drop anyone off. I have extremely good hearing so if you shout loud enough I may be able to hear you if you get in trouble and need reinforcements," Marcus decided it was time to wrap things up when the undead were finally all the way up out of the ground. "Try not to get bogged down in too many fights if you can avoid it. Go!"

He didn't waste any time either, and took off at a brisk but not all-out pace for main street.

After the way night had ended (Miku wasn't sure if they'd ever get the smell of charnel out of her clothes), and morning had returned with its clockwork weirdness. She was hurried onto the bus in her dark red long coat and the dark, knee-length, slightly full dress beneath it. It was surprisingly warm, Miku noted, but that could've just been her body lying to her legs, which were going to be undoubtedly chillier through the day. As always with these trips, her nurse had taken the opportunity to channel Little Red Riding Hood into her patient's life.

Oh, well, she didn't mind that much. It was just clothing.

Miku slid into a seat with her bag of breakfast and her camera in her pocket. She couldn't help shake the feeling of oncoming dread that had started with the end of the night's bleeding walls. Maybe she was just being silly, maybe she shouldn't listen to the alarm ringing in the back of her mind.

But still, she couldn't help but to wonder what it was leading to.

[Waiting for Peter]

[from here]

The wall came up quicker than she'd expected, and Senna was glad for that. She found the footholds quickly, and then paused on the top, willing to help any of the others if they needed help. She leaned a hand down loosely for anyone to take if they wanted, bracing her feet on the top. "Everybody cool?"

The car was still preoccupied in the distance, and a big part of Senna felt like shit for not stepping in. But that wouldn't solve anything in the long run, and it would have put her group in danger. By herself? Yeah, she would have. But not now.

Looking around, Senna spoke softly to Hokuto, "Yeah, it's a ghost town, really. Pretty fucked up. There's a lot of weird things about it."

[From here]

Just as in the hallways inside the building, the field looked completely deserted. von Karma saw not a single person nor creature upon it. Far to the northwest was his destination: an old supply shed that contained items that he would find marginally useful to defend himself -- at least until he could acquire something better. As much as he dreaded making that trek once again to that filthy, dusty old structure, he headed for it, keeping under the cover of the shadows of the main building. As he did so, he warily looked around for signs of potential danger, gripping his flashlight tightly in his hand in case of a sudden attack.

Recluse had used his uneventful dinner as time to hammer out and sharpen a new blade for Scourge, and do maintenance on the rest of his own weapons, then changing into his black Arachnos officer's uniform, ready for the night. Then, it had simply been a matter of waiting, impatiently as always, for the doors to unlock.

At least that pompous fool didn't lecture them all that long-windedly tonight. He slipped out into the hallway as soon as his door was unlocked, red eyes glowing dimly in the pitch black corridor.

[to here]

Endrance turned his head to look at the intercom, giving it a look that would wither an entire rose garden in an instant. He would never get used to ending up in his room again from somewhere else in the Institute.

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes, not sitting up just yet. He could tell already that his torso had been heavily bandaged, even more so than it had been the night before. The cuts on his arms were covered with fresh bandages, and the one on his cheek seemed to no longer be there at all.

Endrance had been expecting to wake up in a lot of pain, but even that seemed numbed. "They must have given me something," he murmured quietly, as he slowly sat up.

At that moment, his nurse came to get him, pushing a wheelchair along with her. "Peyton, dear, good morning. I've come to take you to breakfast, so..." He shook his head. "I'm fine. There's no need for that...I can walk perfectly well."

She sighed. Well, if he insisted, she wasn't going to stop him. She motioned for an orderly to take the chair away, and walked him to the cafeteria. Once they had gotten there, she pointed him toward a seat, then set a full tray of pancakes covered with syrup, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of orange juice in front of him. "Now eat all of that, Peyton, or else you won't be strong enough to keep walking like that."

He glared at her back as she walked away, then stopped suddenly. There was that faint pulse he'd felt the night before...it was exactly the same.

And so he completely ignored his food in favor of staring at the cafeteria doors, looking at every patient that came in.

[thread will be closed to Haseo. ♥]

Ah, that was right. He should roll up-- Huh?

Cross blinked his eyes open to stare up at the ceiling, then sat up quickly. That was odd. Hadn't he just been in the hallway? This was the second time he'd woken in a room like this and it was baffling. He didn't even recall anything that would cause him to fall unconscious again. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took a moment to scratch his head and try to put together pieces of a puzzle that had no intention of fitting.

This was ridiculous.

He wasn't allowed much more time before a boisterous woman arrived saying something about breakfast. Too surprised to put up much of an argument, Cross allowed her to lead him out of the room to a familiar and yet unfamiliar hallway. This wasn't the same room he'd been in the night before.

Trying to ask what was going on proved to be fruitless, and he decided to just take the food he was served and sit down. There had to be someone around here who knew something. And what had happened to Ryuuzaki?

[free]

Finally! The doors had unlocked, and Blitzwing could go. Tonight would lack the frustrations that made the night before such an irritating exercise in futility, not least because he'd have nothing to do with the traitor at all. He also had a slightly better idea of where he was going, at least for this first stretch of the journey: it was with no hesitation at all that he set out to the rendezvous point he'd set earlier that day with Lugnut. From there they would go to the kitchens, where Blitzwing would attempt to arm himself...And after that? Well, they'd see what the night held.

[to here]

Well, Wilson's session with Caleb had gone surprisingly well. It was a good start to the week, but the doctor knew better than to think that it would continue. After a few weeks here, he had come to realize that there was going to be at least one patient that gave him a hard time. It was usually during the first session with a patient that it happened, and they generally mellowed out after that.

He supposed he should take that as a good sign - maybe as a sign of healing - but he usually never had a direct influence on which patients were discharged, so he had to wonder what good his work was doing here. It all seemed very arbitrary, and once again he had to question the competence of the man running this place.

But for now, all he could do was focus on the patients. The two who were seeing him this afternoon were new names to him, so he didn't really know what to expect. All he could do was wait.

Soubi was beginning to feel the effects of a busy morning on a tired body. To make things worse, they were serving Tacos and Burritos. He could really do some with something a bit softer today. Blander. But it was hardly his biggest concern right now.

Having picked out his lunch, he looked for Ritsuka. He had to apologise, but these things usually ended up in bigger arguments, so, as could be expected, Soubi was a little nervous. Maybe they wouldn't find each other this shift. Maybe he had a little more time?

Soubi sat alone, being sure that his face was set in the expression that sent the girls at College the other way.

[He gots a Sheeny Beeny]

What a singularly delightful evening he'd had. It was dampened, of course, by two things, but those were small things and he supposed he could overlook them for now. First was that his powers had still not returned. If he truly were on punishment as he thought, though, he couldn't very well expect those to come back. Second was that the little brat had gotten away and was likely gearing up to blow his cover. That was something a little more concerning, but he had a story he could use to sweep all that under the rug. Still, he'd gotten a beautiful box of scalpels out of the deal and even with the annoying pain of his skin being irritated by the drops of acid, he wasn't any worse for wear.

And just as he thought that, Grell woke up in his bed, disorientated as he had been the previous night, still cluthing the box of blades, but no longer in his own clothes. The indecency of it all! Honestly! To strip a lady when she was unconscious was just unheard of! Stupid future and its stupid lack of any sort of propriety. At least it seemed someone might be dead according to the last announcement. That brightened his day a bit.

Getting out of bed before Mr. Grumpyface did, he hid the box of scalpels in his desk and sighed. His old glasses were gone, replaced with the ruddy circular pair and his clothes had been all but ruined the night before. He doubted he could do much for them either, since he'd been the one to rip the sleeve off. Such a shame, but it had kept him from getting permanent scars on his arms.

It wasn't long before the nurse came and Grell once again put on his lovely little play for her. Confused, bumbling and asking for a hair tie, he was perplexed by the little round elastic thing he received in return, but used it anyway to put his hair back. Led into the cafeteria, Grell realized he was the first one and took a bit of breakfast before finding a seat.

[free]

There were still too many things on Armand's mind for him to truly relax. The morning with Alec had been a help. And seeing that TK was going to be well helped him know that it was time to work out something else, but what? He'd already, without success again, tried to reach one of the club leaders about his sole idea of something new and different. Maybe it was hopeless.

There was no way he was going to play with paper and glue like a small child, and he glared at the nurse as best he could until she gave up on the idea. There was a free chair in the Sun Room--in fact, there were many free chairs--where he settled down to see what the new patients looked like. Prisoners, not patients. He felt bad that he had to remind himself. Even if he was crazy, he wasn't going to give in to Dr. Landel's game, not today. He nibbled on an overgrown cuticle and kept an eye on the room. No dozing today.

[for Citan]

I wouldn't really call this a locker room. More like a bathroom with lockers. The place was uncomfortably crowded, with almost every adult male patient being hustled into the showers at once, but Phoenix wasn't as annoyed by the claustrophobic, milling throng of bodies as he might have otherwise been. Every extra person was one more person who might end up standing between himself and Edgeworth.

He knew that the prosecutor would have a fit if he found out about this. He'd known since he'd tacked that first response up on the bulletin board. And in a way, he couldn't blame him. Phoenix knew that he jumped into things all-or-nothing more often than most people. At the same time, he had some kind of reality testing. He wasn't going to learn the basics of how to defend himself and suddenly decide that he was Rambo.

He found an unoccupied locker in the southwest corner and glanced around, trying to gauge how long he could possibly stall in a locker room, looking as if he was expecting something, before people started looking at him strangely. It would have been easier if he'd known something of the description of the man he was supposed to be meeting. As it was, all he had was handwriting and a military rank, neither of which guaranteed any particular appearance.

It's not as if there was a better way to plan this, though. "Yeah, meet me by the lockers. I'll be wearing gray and a smiley face, just like about a hundred other guys."

[for Hughes]

[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.

((Specifically M22))

Pain. Adelheid suddenly felt a stab of agony radiating from his right eye, where that ghostly woman had brushed up against him. He could feel the lines of the tattoo starting to spread across his skin, the pain extending until he nearly couldn't think straight.

And he had things to do, people to meet and weapons to make. Adelheid gritted his teeth and swore he would make it through. It was just pain, right? Just pain... he could endure that. He had to endure it.

Miku hurried away from her new friends (and kitten) to the cafeteria. For some reason she was just terribly ravenous. Her nurse smiled, relieved that her patient had finally chose to eat something and wouldn't continue that backslide into poor health. She loaded the girl's plate with French toast and fruit, dusted the bread in powdered sugar and a bit of cherries in red-red syrup and sent the girl to sit.

"There we are, Alice, a nice healthy meal," she cooed, and patted Miku's head. Miku sighed, but carefully cut into her meal and started eating, keeping her eye out for Sousuke.

[From here]

Miku pushed open the door to get away from the smell wafting down the main corridor. She swallowed some of the bile down that threatened to surge up into her throat and sighed. Her face felt hot, and her hands seemed clammy. Miku worried if there was something she would see tomorrow night, and hoped she didn't know the victim.

Her thoughts turned to Ritsuka, and her stomach dropped into her knees. "Sousuke," she squeezed her new boyfriend's (again, that was such a weird... word to use) hand and shined her light up the stairwell. "You don't see anything, do you?"

Okay, so the day more or less completely sucked. The only consolation Toph had was in regards to the conversation with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan and the upcoming meeting with Renamon for her file and possessions. That is, if she could even find the woman. Renamon never got a chance to tell her the location of her room; the staff had intervened too quickly.

Ironically, it was her nurse who provided a possible solution to the girl's dilemma. As the woman collected the remaining dishes and trays after dinner, she had mentioned the female rooms were stationed in one section of the institute. Which meant Toph only had to look through four sets of corridors as opposed to an entire building.

Perfect, she thought as she stepped out into the hallway. This shouldn't be hard at all. She may have to play the waiting game, but considering the traffic, Renamon would have an easier time spotting her in the adjacent area. Actually, wasn't that where they had first met?

Smirking in amusement, the girl moved down toward the bathrooms.

[To here.]