Day 53: Sun Room, Morning

[scarefaux]

With breakfast finished and a new acquaintance made, the Scarecrow's mind turned to his other friends. The disappearance of Depth Charge's friend had brought back memories of how he'd felt when Kaiji went missing: helpless, useless, as though he should have and could have done something more to find him. If only he had his brain, then maybe he

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[heroesdontshave]

So far so good. Despite his screw up last night, Snow was actually being better about containing his restlessness today. Maybe it was cause he actually got a full night's sleep. Or maybe it was cause he was getting a little more used to this place. Not that he was getting cozy or anything, but there was a definite rhythm to how stuff worked here. It was enough that he could just go with the flow for now. Besides, if he behaved himself more now, the more he can catch people off guard later

[predictator]

The day was slowly but surely taking a turn for the better. His mood had improved during breakfast, and while he was still planning on avoiding the denizens of Ikebukuro (particularly Shizuo, whom he wished would have choked on his waffles during breakfast and just died), there were plenty of other humans that Izaya didn't mind approaching. One of them was even standing in the Sun Room right now, looking around and craning his neck to look at the balcony above them.

With a smile and without a second thought, Izaya head for Snow Villiers.

He almost had to choke back surprise once he was close. He'd realized earlier that the other man was fairly tall, but... Izaya had underestimated how tall; Snow Villiers had to be just as big as Simon. But with the inital moment of surprise having passed, Izaya wasn't deterred. He may have been much smaller than either Simon or Snow, but size didn't intimidate him; it alone didn't make someone dangerous.

Besides, Snow's obvious interest in looking around was interesting"Planning to try

[heroesdontshave]

A familiar voice pulled Snow's attention away from the balcony above them and down to his side. He recognized the face immediately as that guy he met his first day here. Izaya, right? Yeah, that was it. His face instantly broke into a bright, greeting smile once the face registered. Ha, guy looked the same as ever.

"Heh. Maybe." Which pretty much meant yes. "Never noticed there was a second floor here. Know if anyone's ever gotten up there?"

[predictator]

Izaya gave Snow a smile in return, though his was not nearly as cheerful. He gave a glance upward when the big man asked his question. That balcony up there would have been right about... Yeah, it had to have been the upstairs hall.

"I doubt any of the patients have been up there during the day," he commented. "At least, not without a nurse escort. But I know there are stairs you can take to the second floor at night."

It was more free information, but it was something that anyone could have gotten their hands on through a little exploration if nothing else. At this point, it was something of an investment, anyway... If there was any chance Snow was as strong as Simon in addition to being as big as the Russian was, it could be valuable to keep him around. First he would have to prove that he wasn't that bad of a guy, especially in case Shizuo showed up to ruin things with that protozoan intellect of his.

[saviored]

So Stefan wanted to talk to him. Surprise, surprise.

But really, Damon had wanted to talk to Stefan, too. He just never liked acknowledging as such so it was nice of his brother to pave the way instead. An unexpected yet useful outcome of the question he'd posed on the board. And on top of that, he had a tip to follow up on tonight. He wasn't sure who the anonymous helper elf was, or even whether the information was accurate-people, you know (and had it even been a person in the first place? He had to wonder)-but he was getting to the point where he no longer cared as much. He was hungry. Vampires were not made to go hungry.

He was not made to go hungry.

His gaze lingered briefly on the boy across the room. Lunatic from a couple of days ago, wasn't he? So not his usual type, but this was not usual. At the moment, his type was anything with a delicate set of veins he could tear open. He could do it, normally. Devour someone in public and leave before anyone even realize something was wrong

[broodings]

Once again, the nurses insisted that Elena (or "Samantha," as they called her) was fine, and playfully chided Stefan about how sometimes women needed their beauty sleep, although he didn't miss how she looked over his shoulder to a pair of orderlies standing by the door of the Sun Room. Once again, he was certain he could've fought past them, even killed them, weakened or not. For a whole three seconds, the temptation to kill rose high (-if he was fast enough, he could snap her neck, then drag her away from-) but he couldn't. He couldn't. He couldn't become that person again. Stefan had all but fled from the exit, and circled around the room a few times before finally realizing that there was no getting away from people here. He settled into a vacant chair instead, and buried his head in his hands.

What was wrong with him? His control was better than this, at least it had been before he'd been captured by the tomb vampires. And he'd gone this long before without drinking a drop of blood, usually when he was at his most self-pitying,

[saviored]

Stefan was hard to miss when he was circling around the room like a crow with a broken wing. Damon peered at him out of the corner of his eye. Something was up. Something beyond the usual

[broodings]

Damon... stayed in. Somehow, Stefan wasn't inclined to believe that his brother had voluntarily kept himself out of trouble - to give him and Elena some time alone, sure, as shockingly unselfish that might seem; but give them time alone as his primary motivation? Most likely Damon had tried to find blood and failed, and didn't want to admit to it. Which was fine, if Damon's failure meant Claire or someone like Claire was walking around vampire-bite-free this morning. And it wasn't as if Stefan had gotten any further last night, so he let it go.

Stefan sighed and crouched down in front of the couch so he could speak without being overheard. He still didn't know what to think of the nurses - whether or not they knew about the true nature of this workplace, whether or not they knew what he was - but discretion was second nature to him, and he wouldn't be careless with that many doubts on his mind

[ninelivesonce]

There had been no reply to her note.  Strange -- was von Karma ill, or was he merely ignoring her?  Surely things hadn't gone that badly?  Had they?  At the very least, wouldn't he want his metal?  He'd have to reply for that.  She could make her case then.  Apologize -- or better yet, look him in the eye and explain.  Yes, that would be better.  Sitting down, so that he wouldn't have so far to look up.  Plan squared away, and awaiting only the proper opportunity, she began looking through the rest of the messages.

There was nothing yet from the History Club, yet -- had something more gone awry there?  The group's luck had been poor, as far as she'd seen, in both missions and leadership, but they were exactly the sort of group suited to her talents.  One more chance, she'd promise.  After that, her nighttimes would be her own again.  Not that they weren't now, albeit indirectly; she hadn't been coerced into joining the group.  It seemed like a good idea at the time.  How many mission reports had she seen that on?  She'd only been

[shorttank]

Leela wondered if Miss von Karma had issues beyond the readily apparent ones that made her so prickly, and she aksed Betty about her, but Betty, of course, gave her the old I can't discuss other patients line. Maybe Franziska just needed a friend, Leela decided, a fellow driven... sort of driven, more driven than her co-workers... career woman.

She liked the Sun Room, as much as she could like any part of a definitely-insane, certainly-fake, probably-lying-about-its-time-period mental hospital. It wasn't the kitties' fault they lived in an evil place.

She spotted the tall woman pacing as soon as she came in, and recognized her as Taura, for whom Leela's liking wasn't conditional at all. She fell into step with her (she had to jog a bit to keep up with her long legs, too), smiling. "Hey. Waiting for an important message?"

[ninelivesonce]

"Yeah," Taura said, and the voice plus a flash of purple at her shoulder added up to a name -- Leela  -- plus the courage to try a joke. "How ever did you guess?"  She stopped, smiling.  "Wearing a hole in the decking's not going to make it come any sooner, though."

Manfred hadn't shown up in the Sun Room either, which meant she was better off just finding him as soon as he awoke rather than second-guessing his opinion on last night's debacle.  If she'd still heard or seen nothing by lunch she'd go up the chain of command.  Or down, or sideways, or really, whatever got her an answer.  For now, she could use the chance to relax with someone she knew wouldn't call her a freak.  "How 'bout you?"

[shorttank]

"Oh, you know. Powers from the future." It was nice to say that as a joke instead of hoping it would keep a weird shadow-thing from attacking. In the light of day, it was almost easy to believe that had been a dream, like Betty would no doubt have claimed it was. Except that Guybrush had replied and reinforced its reality right on this very bulletin board.

"I've already checked in on the friend I was with last night, so nope, I was just going to say hi to the cats." The few she could see were being aloof, as usual, one washing its paw in a spot of sunlight, another sleeping with its tail over its eyes. Aww. "It wasn't too bad for you, was it? Last night?"

[fourstonewalls]

That had been...nothing at all like the meeting she'd envisioned, when she'd agreed to meet her mysterious accuser on the bulletin.  First off, he hadn't know what she'd done (or he was a much better liar than she'd estimated), even when she'd laid out details like breadcrumbs.  He really hadn't heard about the scandal, though its existence hadn't surprised him.  That alone said perhaps things weren't as solved as he'd like to claim, but again, she hadn't picked up any great inconsistency in his story

[whichwayagain]

Mihai had felt little desire to get out of bed that morning, yet his nurse had been insistent. Somehow the woman had developed the idea that waffles were to serve as the miracle cure for every nightmare that could possibly haunt the man in his sleep, never mind that Mihai doubted even the youngest of patients would hold such an idea to be true. In every sense then, breakfast had been a waste, from the sugary foods on his plate, to the thoughts that had occupied Mihai's mind while he ignored the meal

[fourstonewalls]

A flash of grey-white hair, loose and flopping down over a beard the same color, jolted her heartbeat into racing. Damon? Now? With her notes all over the table and her plans in similarly obvious disarray? She swallowed, gathering her composure, and looked up -- finally -- as the man spoke. In a voice nothing like the Chief's booming tones. Oh. Well, that was a piece of luck

[whichwayagain]

Mihai only watched in quiet curiosity as the woman tensed, but didn't pry. The easy answer for nerves was a bad night, something this place went to great lengths to create on a regular basis. But even if that hadn't been the case, Lana relaxed after little more than a breath, and Mihai was content to forget it had ever happened.

And so was this woman, apparently. Mihai could of course guess just what the questions would entail, and he moved into a chair just across from Lana. "I suppose not, but I doubt I'd know more than anyone else." Then there was the matter of just what Mihai would willingly reveal; in his world, the name was enough to tell most people just what crimes he'd committed over his years. Yet within the Institute, Mihai actually had the option of not being knowing as a blood-covered murdered. While he wasn't ashamed of his job in so many words (the past was best accepted, after all), it could be troublesome if people found out, given the attitudes of some he'd seen around.

[mugenreppa]

Lucky they were interrupted before she'd had to answer Morgan's inquiry. She was going to delay dealing with it for as long as possible because it wasn't a problem she could just punch/kick/tongue lash away, and if she waited, it wouldn't seem so soul-crushingly bad. It wasn't like the other thing where she'd nearly had a breakdown into an emotional mess. Yeah

[longlivetehking]

After entering the Sun room, Scar spared the bulletin board a rather brief look. As usual, there wasn't anything interesting to be found among these silly scribbles. He had to wonder why he still bothered to look. In case there was something useful, obviously. Even that may be up to debate; he had been longer than the majority of the people here, yet the progress he had made was barely noticeable. The former lion was skeptical that anything he didn't already know would appear among all the notes. Even the notes about last night revealed little news, though he hardly needed any more reasons to think about it.

He turned, green eyes glancing at the people already gathered here. Noticing a familiar face among them, he walked over.

"It's been a while, Mele," he said by manner of greeting.

[mugenreppa]

"Hn? Ah- Yeah. Long time no see." Mele crossed her arms protectively again, and, with tremendous force of will, forced herself to look at Scar. Well, maybe it was more of a peek before she quickly looked away again.

But one glance was enough. "What happened to your head?" Her right hand clenched, before she forced it to loosen, and got up to get a closer look at the bandages. "What happened?!" she repeated, fretting.

Scarecrow, Soma, now Scar? Was there some sort of conspiracy? And that wasn't even counting the shadow-thing! Should Mele worry about Taura next, considering the letter T came after S in that wacky alphabet she'd heard about?!

[longlivetehking]

The question caught Scar off guard. That wasn't what he had expected. Or wanted. Maybe he should have seen it coming, considering the cloths were still wrapped around his head. Maybe it should've been obvious. Maybe he had failed to make another connection that should've otherwise been so logical and a feeling of dread once more resurfaced. What more had they done to his head?!

Maybe it wasn't even related. With everything that was going on... Still, his teeth clenched.

The improvements his mood had made during breakfast disappeared as his expression darkened. He looked away. "Nothing," he said curtly, every part of his body indicating that it was something he didn't want to discuss.

He could only hope Mele wouldn't press the subject anyway.