Day 56: Bus 3

[rocksthecourt]

Waking carried a sense of disappointment along with it for the first time in a long time. Klavier actually sighed in irritation when he realized where he was. Damn it all. So they hadn't managed to move quickly enough to cover as much ground as they had hoped. It was a shame, really. Last night had actually proven to be relatively productive. If

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[its_the_mileage]

Indy awoke slightly fogged by what must be painkillers, nonetheless in pain, and swathed in bandages. His left hand was completely wrapped and immobile; his left side and hip had been dressed extensively. Obviously there were still some real nurses here

[toxicspiderman]

Another Saturday, another trip to the interview racks at Goodwill for pseudo-yuppie alligator polo and khakis. This time it was a powder-pink one with a matching v-neck sweater. They both still smelled like cologne. That shit was persistent in ways that even a crackerjack biochemist couldn't explain. At least it wasn't the same crap Laughlin had worn. Then he'd know they were just laughing at him

[its_the_mileage]

Sangamon Taylor was one of the last to limp onto the bus, wielding a cane now instead of leaning over Pilgrim's shoulders. Indy hadn't gotten any details of what the other group had been through beyond "robot dinosaurs with laser beam eyes," but it was obvious it hadn't been any more fun than what his team had done.

"It's possible," he answered, edging himself over on the seat to make room. Even that hurt. "I've spent a lot more nights than not getting attacked by the lab experiment of the day and never making it anywhere. If that's any indication of the average patient's progress on a given night, we probably were the most productive ones in the place." If you considered risking life and limb to get seriously injured for a trinket productive. Needless to say, in Indy's book it was about the most productive you could get

[toxicspiderman]

Giant boulders. S.T. managed not to laugh, though he did acquire a sudden interest in making sure he still had his credit card. Bet that made both sides custom jobs. It was a good thing they'd split the way they had. Wandering through the entire periodic table would have been a hell of a way to spend the night. Would fit the Head Bastard's perverse sense of appropriate behavior. Sangamon wondered how many they'd discovered by two-thousand-fuck-if-I-know.

"Sounds like fun." Like hiking on Spectacle Island. With fewer metalheads and PCBs or PCPs. Indy's thirty-first century equivalents were going to have a field day taking the harbor apart. Only big question was whether or not they'd be recognizable as humans, or if the Earth would have to wait for round two to get it right

[purpletaint]

Morning broke with pain, and that was enough of an irregularity to freeze Albedo's motions in transition, press hand to side where bandages lay over healing flesh and wonder. What had he thought last night? How quaint it was, to touch against mortality and shudder in its wake, feel a cold frost of threat and taste fear, thick and metallic. He stood, then, the action more of need for movement than want to shift, and he immediately stumbled, left leg giving out under his weight. Heavy bandages covered that leg. His head cocked at a severe angle--he wanted to rip it off, press his fingers into it, tear at the edges. How many times would he have something like this to dig into? To see his flesh separating in threat of removal. Shouldn't he gaze in idolatry, laugh at all of this?!

He shuddered, frozen; his hand returning to the gashes in-between ribs and thigh. At least Nigredo... Hadn't been injured. At the end, he had thought... And Albedo had been so wretchedly powerless to do anything. Anything at all. It must change. There was no way

[rocksthecourt]

He'd nearly inhaled both the muffin and his granola bar by the time the bus was mostly done filling up. He didn't feel anywhere near full, but not feeling like he might collapse from hunger at any given moment was a plus. A relief, really. This was so much better. Klavier felt he'd had very good reasons to withhold from food, but he couldn't keep doing this. With everything else that could get him in this place, it was be horribly embarrassing if he went down due to his own carelessness. Maybe that was why he'd been getting sick more frequently

[purpletaint]

And this was almost delicious. Not only was the fool acting like nothing had happened, but he was playing as well. How cute.~ It reminded Albedo to reteach Klavier again. Of how sweet Albedo truly was. His brother's words were shrugged off, despite the argument that had been born from the subject. There had been nothing stated, no commands issued. Albedo would still move as he would.

His head raised from his knee, lips widening in a broad smile. "I wonder!" he chirped back, eyes narrowing. "I seem to get hurt quite a bit. Just the other night my throat was crushed and now this!" He sighed dramatically, as if it was such an inconvenience instead of a threat on his livelihood. "Though I can't quite remember...." He feigned confusion. "Was I defending someone or tearing one to pieces?"

His hand raised to touch his cheek, his smile darkening. "Why don't you ask Nigredo what happened last night? You seem to check in on him often." He blinked slowly. "I'll assure you that we were so careful, as you requested

[rocksthecourt]

His eyes turned back to the child when he spoke up, that voice akin to nails on a chalkboard to him. Most especially when he sounded so bloody pleased. He'd been hoping to tick the kid off or irritate him or at least offend him enough to make him go sit elsewhere. Seeing him the exact opposite was enough to shoot a quiet flash of anger through his chest. Even if he was just being a sarcastic jerk, Klavier couldn't stand him looking so happy. Not after everything he had done

[predictator]

While last night hadn't been as informative about his captors as Izaya would have liked, at least he'd managed to gather something of a more personal nature: specifically information about one of the Americans here. There was little he could or would do with that information yet, but it was something, and that was a start. The web had to be built up thread by thread, and the radials to support it were slowly being put into place

[poorexample]

Castiel and his brother had not gotten very far in their search of the second floor when night had ended once more. The angel couldn't say that he was that shocked by the sudden switch from night to day at this point, but it was rather frustrating. He didn't know if Gabriel was somehow a count of bad luck, but it seemed that whenever he was with his sibling the night seemed to go by much faster

[predictator]

He'd seen Castiel almost immediately after looking up from the items he'd been given, and it didn't take the mysterious man long to join in him in the back. Izaya was somewhat disappointed-with company for the trip, he wouldn't be able to utilized his vantage point as well as he would have been able to alone.

But at this time, it wouldn't do to give Castiel reason to think he was unwelcome. Izaya smiled politely, gesturing towards the empty seat beside him. "Please, go ahead," he said. "Though I'll warn you I have a few questions... I've been wanting to talk to you since the other night."

Overall, it was true; even if he would have rather observed those in the bus this morning, he had wanted to speak with Castiel again. Of course, the questions he most wanted answers to were ones that he couldn't ask this soon, this directly, but there were others: questions about the other night, about the teleportation, about Castiel's string of visits and the girl he'd attacked... It was all so interesting!

[poorexample]

It was hardly surprising that Orihara had a number of questions after what Castiel had put him through the other night. Gabriel had taken issue with that decision, and in this moment Castiel could understand why. It was going to be difficult to avoid direct answers to what Orihara was bound to ask, and yet he imagined that his experience with the Winchesters while he'd still been working for Heaven had prepared him well for evasive responses

[mirthfulness]

"Whoa."

This was already the second time Gamzee had woken up staring at the same ceiling with the same surprised utter. He didn't remember being knocked out, but he obviously had been. And... fed at the same time? There was that pie feeling again, and he was so far in the zone he didn't realize there was a soldier dressing him for the day until he was pulling a dark hoodie over his head and handing him a paper sack.

...Shit, what were these colors he was dressed in and why did the hoodie have to be over them? He tugged up the sleeves as they walked outside, staring at the rainbow pattern on the long-sleeved shirt underneath and watching how it moved against the shifting patterns of the crowd in front of him as he went. There were letters on his shirt too, lit up in false flames, but he had no idea what the initials ICP stood for

[notachick]

When Okita opened his eyes, he felt an ache in his chest and it wasn't the usual kind. This was a knot of frustration that only built the longer he stared up at the dull white ceiling. Another night spent waiting for someone who showed up late and cost them progression. Tardiness in the Shinsengumi was punished severely, but what could he do here? These people weren't the Shinsengumi. Maybe they simply couldn't be relied upon, or maybe he was simply too soft on them. If Homura were here, he

[mirthfulness]

Suddenly there was a new voice out of nowhere. As no one had yet sat down beside him, Gamzee took a good long look at his muffin just to make sure his food wasn't talking to him. It wasn't was it? That would just be fucked up. It was another moment before the figure standing over him registered and he blinked up at Okita through a heavy-lidded gaze

[notachick]

Well, this new face was certainly an interesting one. Okita tilted his head as the boy looked first at his muffin and then up at him, as if he'd thought it was the food talking to him. The almost sleepy expression on his face told Okita what he needed to know though. Either the boy wasn't a morning person or he was drugged for some reason or another. Whichever it was, Okita didn't mind and he smiled pleasantly regardless of the weird words coming out of the stranger's mouth and the way he cursed. Yuffie had taught him not to blink an eye at strange words

[human_sponge]

It was a sad day when going to sleep in your bed and then waking up in it the next morning was strange. Peter hadn't thought it was possible to actually get used to the whole night-to-morning switch that they had to deal with here, but it seemed that he had. Because when he woke up slowly, with the hint of a dream at the edge of his mind, he was actually even more disoriented

[forgot_it_all]

Today was the first Doyleton since he started going to the town that he wasn't given extremely stupid, kiddy clothes. Of course, today was also another morning where he woke up frustrated and worried about someone. He couldn't remember how the night ended, but that seemed to be the norm nowadays. He and Tear made it to the torture rooms, but when they'd been waiting for the doors to open, his memory suddenly went blank. It had been terrifying the first time, but now, after over a month of this macabre ritual, Ritsuka was growing used to it

[human_sponge]

Peter had gotten a few bites into his muffin when someone came up to his side. He glanced over only to be faced with a boy who he was more or less at eye level with now that he was sitting and Ritsuka was standing. It was small things like that that caused him to remember just how young some of the patients here were, though he was relieved to see that Ritsuka seemed fine

[forgot_it_all]

Another friend helped him heal? Ritsuka nodded and let out a sigh of a relief. It was short lived, however, as he realized there were more healers in the Institute than he'd thought. Where were they all hiding? Was it simply that they stuck to their friends? It would make sense, of course, that they'd tend to those they knew before those they didn't, but Ritsuka wished those who had the power to heal would come forward. If Tamaki were still around, maybe he could have pulled them out of hiding, but Tamaki had a charisma that was hard to deny and few others had here