Tim knew he shouldn't go and eat some greaseball burger meal, but really, the calorie content of a meal that he might actually enjoy was the furthest thing from his mind. Might as well get some use out of their bogus coupon book. It still struck him as really odd; this wasn't how mental facilities worked. It seemed like ridiculously low security to him, even with all the staff milling about.

Well, whatever. He was hungry and the sack lunch just wasn't doing it from him. So he ordered his meal, complete with the greasiest fries in the state of New Jersey, apparently, and sat at a table. The jeans were still annoying him. The skinny jeans fad was stupid, as far as he was concerned, because the pants were designed so tight that they were actually falling down if he sat. Wonderful. The next person he saw wearing these things voluntarily was getting punched in the face, just for being a moron.

...Okay, not really, but it was nice to entertain the thought.

He was glad to be away from Alfred for a few minutes, to clear his head. He wasn't sure where the butler - er, right, gentleman's gentleman - had gone, but he knew Alfred wouldn't follow him into a fast food place. Anyway, if there was anyone that knew how to take care of themselves in weird situations, it was Alfred. He'd be okay.

HEven with all the grease, the fries were palatable enough, and he opened another ketchup packet, glad for the chance to just sit here for a few minutes and think.

[Waiting for one impulsive speedster, and possibly one Superman clone.]

Senna stepped off the bus to wind blowing through the clothes she was given. A sad face at one of the nurses allowed her a long red scarf as well, and once she had draped it around her neck and let it hang down her back, she had trotted off.

The park she had saw last time seemed a good place to be on the look-out for the chicks from last night. It was close to the buses, and a big enough place that if they remembered that they had a race date, it would suit its purpose. The girl ran to a place in the middle of the field and waited there, shifting her weight from side to side. After a while, this wasn't enough, and Senna traded back and forth between jogging in place and acrobatics--the easy flips and cartwheels keeping her warm.

Her mind had changed in the night before. She had gotten a taste of what leadership entailed, and she wasn't sure she had rose to the occasion or not. She knew she had tried her best, and had been willing to give as much as she had, but it hadn't been enough. She knew this. Hokuto, at least, had gotten hurt, and in the end, they still hadn't explored more than the schoolhouse. They really needed a different approach with that place.

She went back and forth internally, body going through the motions and reflexes of her movements.

[for... Falis, Hokuto, Meche, and Soma?--and down to here]

One second he was in the hallway, dizzy and sickened and barely able to focus as Youko picked him up (and he'd thought for a moment to warn her to be careful before remembering his shirei couldn't hurt her anyway, even agitated as they were) and then the next...in bed. Back in the sterile hospital room, with only the sharp scents of cleaners and laundry soap from the sheets, but nausea and a lingering pain behind his eyes still reminded him of the close call the night before.

Before he had time to think about it for long, though, the door opened and the nurse arrived with a bundle of unfamiliar clothing; she fussed over him briefly, trying to feel his forehead (from which he automatically grimaced and ducked away) and cooing over him like he was an invalid child. Of course he was a little feverish; it would only have been worse if the blood had touched him as it came so close to doing.

But the woman only bundled him into the clothing she'd brought without paying any attention to his protests, and he was hard-pressed to decide whether or not the shirt she gave him was any better than the bright yellow smiling face. And then he was led out to the front yard, through what he noted didn't look anything like the "holy ground" of the night before, and given a brown paper bag before being herded onto a bus with admonitions to "take it easy" ringing in his ears.

He dropped into the first empty seat he found, leaving the bag sitting next to him unopened as he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. Food was most definitely not interesting at the moment, and he had things to think about anyway.

[waiting for Youko]

[From here]

After what had been a pretty loud way of breaking down a door, Tyki slipped inside the pitch back room. If something was here, it probably would've gone for his throat already. Or not. Depended on the freak in question, he guessed.

He swept his flashlight, noticing the scale and cadaver tables with the overhead lights. Next to those tables were way-too-clean stands, gleaming and sterile even in the darkness. Whoever in charge here must be some neat freak or something.

The only real thing of interest was the cabinet. The Noah walked over and began rummaging through it's contents. Considering he was close to some laboratory, it shouldn't be surprising that most items were related to surgical stuff. There were magnifying glasses, razors, scissors, scalpels and a lot of other...sharp things.

Tyki knew when there were useful items when he saw them, so he helped himself to some of the scalpels. Having some extra items to cut things (or people) up with wouldn't hurt, right? Possible victims didn't count, anyway.

[From here]

The next chamber was in three parts, and for the first Scourge was fine. But the shower room, and the one beyond that, gave his nose the surges.

The rooms smelled like...Scourge wasn't really sure how to put it, it was more a lack of smell than anything else. Sterile. He'd gotten used to all the little background smells, sweat and grime and breath, but this room has nearly nothing. The set of rooms was the olfactory version of "quiet...too quiet" to the tracker and it gave him the chills. Being this bare was unnatural, and his own scent was nearly overpowring compared to the bareness of the decontamination chambers.

What did this place consider contamination, anyway? Organic material? A place like this might melt the flesh from his calcified support structures, if that spigot decided to turn on, or destroy him completely.

Scourge hurried through and tried not to look at it. At least the next door opened for him without protest.

[To here.]

[From here.]

And another locked door. Scourge supposed he shouldn't have expeceted anything better, it was probably locked all the way up to the chemical storage room. The point would be gone from the blade before he got a chance to put it in anything that wasn't a lock. Another shove, some painfully loud metal grinding against metal that made Scourge's skin crawl, and he was in.

[To here.]

[From here.]

Scourge took the stairs quietly, one hand on the wall and the other clutching at his knife. He kept his head tilted up, in case something dropped on him from above, but kept looking down in case something came through the door, a combination of which led to him walking into the wall at the curve of the stairs.

"Ow."

If anything tried to eat him on the way up, it wouldn't have to worry about him running away.

[To here.]

Well, that was interesting. He'd just watched Lockdown being escorted out of the room by some of the staff. That meant one of two things, and he quite hoped it was the same as what it had been for him. A night of terrorizing meatbags was always fun, although HK did hope that if this was the case for Lockdown, the former droid would be able to escape maiming if he ended up within targeting range.

But there were more important things to do tonight- HK was going to get a blade! A real edged weapon, not just the pair of scalpels he'd been using for almost 15 days now. He wanted to leave his cell immediately after the doors unlocked, but he waited until his limited, irritating meatbag eyes got used to the concept of focusing on the infrared wavelengths that his extended spectrum could pick up. It was only a tiny fraction of the electromagnetic spectrum, but it allowed him to travel without needing the glowrod.

He stepped out into the hallway after a moment, the surroundings lit with colors that human languages didn't even have words for. He felt much better after that defrag he'd done on his brain. Now, to go find the rather odd RV point the meatbag had told him to go to...

[to here]

When the intercom's jingle sounded, there seemed to be some kind of tapping in the background noise, like letters being punched into a keyboard. It stopped and the Head Doctor chuckled.

"Hello, everyone! I'm actually taking a break from paperwork for once – everyone needs some recreational time, you know! – and of course, now we can all look forward to a scrumptious dinner from our cooks. Tonight, herb-seasoned grilled salmon is on the menu, served with buttery mashed potatoes and asparagus. All our regular drinks and vegetarian options are available, and for dessert, we will be serving yellow cake with a whipped cream icing.

"...Well! I can hardly wait to get my own dinner after saying all that. Good bye for now, everyone, and enjoy your delicious food!"

The intercom clicked off.

[ 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. ]

Scar had realized it during the announcement after breakfast, and he had proceeded to create reluctance for it during the whole day, right until this very moment. Today was shower day. Shower day.

The staff had to practically drag their charge into the damp rooms after lunch. Had he been in the possession of his old nails, he would have stubbornly dug them into the floor ironically similar to any house-cat to prevent the nurses from moving him one inch closer to the water. For now he could only protest.

Because Scar hated water. And he hated getting wet even more, which was the inevitable consequence of coming into contact with water.

Unfortunately, he was pushed into the damp rooms even despite his protests with the order to 'clean himself'. The former feline knew that he wouldn't be allowed to leave before he had least made an attempt at the human version to clean himself - which the nurse's stern words only served to confirm - but that didn't quite cease his protests. It took a threat of sedation and to be washed by the nurses for Scar to finally move to one of the many empty shower-stalls.

And that was how far is 'cooperation' would go until now. Though he had endured this hellish experience more often since his stay here, Scar eyed the shower-head as if it would spit molten lava instead of water.

Just as von Karma started to enter the doorway leading to the Courtyard to look around for anyone remotely resembling his daughter, that pretentious lunatic's voice rang out over the Intercom, heralding the approach of lunch time. Right away, the damned nurse practically dragged him back into the cafeteria and towards the serving tables, telling him in that cloyingly cheerful tone that he could get his fresh air after he had had his meal. What rotten timing!

His mood worsened as he saw what was on those tables. "Nurse! This is the same greasy, disgusting, perfect-artery-ruining swill that was offered for lunch the last time I was in here! Does this Institute serve nothing else? How is any of this healthy for someone whom you claim has recently suffered from a stroke?!"

"Why, you're right, Mr. Fuchs! Here, I'll fix you a nice, big, healthy salad." Before he could protest that he wasn't hungry anyway, the smiling nurse loaded a heap of greens and some fruits onto a plate for him. Then she led him to one of the tables and seated him there. "Now, be a good man and finish all of that. You will do that just for me, won't you?"

The look he shot her in response indicated that he would never do anything "just for her." Certainly, not consuming this entire mountain of lettuce and carrots. As much as he approved of salads, the portion she served him was nothing short of ludicrous. Glaring at her in silence, he made no pretense of even starting in on this ridiculous travesty of a meal. Finally, she seemed to take the hint, excusing herself to attend to the other patients... but not without admonishing him that his "plate had better be clean" by the time she returned to take him to the Courtyard.

As she left him, von Karma looked all around him to see whether Franziska had come into the cafeteria yet. Unfortunately, as he had already arranged to meet his former roommate at this time, all he could do for now was to attempt to visually confirm her presence in this hellhole. As much as he hoped that the author of the replies to this S.T.'s note was nothing more than an impostor -- in which case, he would make that person pay for brazenly impersonating his daughter -- he was not entirely certain of that right now.

In the meantime, he had other practical matters to attend to. He still needed to speak to Javert to find out what had truly happened during the time he was unconscious. As he surreptitiously scanned the stream of arriving patients for the face of his daughter -- or those of his enemies -- he patiently awaited Javert's arrival, hoping that the man could still recognize him after all this time.

[Closed to Javert]

Haseo's steps were heavy with the weight of righteous anger as he was escorted into the Sun Room, his posture so sullen and reluctant you could almost hear the nostalgic cry of an electric guitar. He was seething, and though perhaps it was a bit harder to be intimidating while wearing the uniform of an insane asylum and flanked by a bored-looking orderly, it was not for lack of trying.

Unfortunately, his nurse seemed unaffected by the act, and even with the cloud of failing to keep "Kai" away from "Peyton" hanging over her, remained determinedly cheerful. She merely said something about receiving a lecture later on, ignored his retorts, and assured him that it would be alright even though his internet stalker was in the same building. For the most part, Haseo tuned her babbling out after that, dismissing it as hopeless.

"...and usually this would be the time children would be taking showers, but you don't have to worry about that right now. Now then, le--"

"Wait. What?"

"Oh, all the children seventeen or under are separated right now while the adults go to the courtyard..."

"Hey, I'm not a kid you old--!"

"Oh of course you aren't dear, but you're not eighteen yet either, now are you?"

Haseo resisted the urge to do something rash, literally biting his tongue to keep quiet. But upon having the bulletin board pointed out to him, he shrugged off his anger for the most part and headed that way, fully intending to get more answers than he'd had time to receive during breakfast.

Well... at least Endrance is in another shower group, he thought, Thank god.

[Closed to Tsukasa, for now!]

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. ♥]