Day 59: Sun Room (4th Shift)

[contentincloset]

After an intercom broadcast like that, Kurogane felt somewhat better about the little information he'd gotten from Harrington the previous night. The man only sounded competent when he needed to but was an idiot otherwise. Unfortunately that was furthered proof of the General not employing the brightest of staff members, making another option for

Comments

[vsyourface]

It was a thing of beauty

[pullstrung]

Aside from his conversation with Rita this morning, Woody's day had been woefully uneventful. No clear sign of Buzz, no more clues about what the heck happened between their near brush with death in the dump and waking up here, nothing. While it had been good to hear that Mack (seriously, how was he gonna remember something like Makunouchi?) made it out of last night's fight relatively unharmed, it wasn't enough to put Woody in a chipper mood by any means

[vsyourface]

A Hanksian voice sounded behind him, and Scott nodded firmly, not turning around just yet. "Yep! Isn't it great? This is totally, like, the Camelot of the Sun Room or something! You see that fort over there?" Scott pointed across to Fort Doom, where the little devil child built diligently to catch up with the Soft Arms Race. "That's the biggest competition in the area, and we could probably take 'em out with a few of the bigger pillows to the main supports if we wanted. I mean, we got this, man! We got this by the ass!"

Finally, he turned to greet Woody properly, more than glad to see the cowboy's familiar face after the disaster that had been the food fight. "So how's it..."

Scott's head tilted.

Had that been a flash of blue hair in the crowd?

"...going...?"

He blinked. Whatever he thought he had seen, it was already gone.

He shook his head. Probably just some anime girl. That chick with the plugsuit was running around at one point, right? he thought, trying to get his focus back on the friend in front of him

[pullstrung]

So Scott had been playing a game with one of the other patients here. It was kind of nice to see that some people hadn't forgotten how to use their imaginations. Woody looked at the competition, crossing his arms over his chest and studying the way the fort had been built.

They probably could take it down with a well-delivered attack, he thought, but it seemed kind of mean to do that unprovoked. Upon hearing Scott's language, Woody couldn't help but throw him a raised eyebrow. He wasn't a prude or even unfamiliar with those kinds of words, but it was still strange for someone in...his line of work to hear

[cigarettes_plz]

After lunch Badou made a b-line for the sun room. There was still no sign of Alle, but that was fine. In a few hours he could check his room. He was probably asleep. There was no reason to get all worked up about it just yet. Both Badou himself and Alkaid had disappeared for upwards of a week before they showed up again, so this was... nothing to get worked up about. Everything was a-ok. Fretting over it wasn't actually gonna help somehow anyway

[bastard_sadi]

Daemon wandered into the sunroom after lunch, his hands tucked casually in the pockets of his uniform. This was closer to what he normally wore at home, rather than the institute's former outfit, but it was still something to get used to. Just like everything else. Besides, the stiff uniform was much less comfortable than what he was accustomed to from home. At least the bright side was that the demented smiley was gone

[cigarettes_plz]

Badou was going to take this as further proof that he could never catch a break. Heine got plenty of uninterrupted talking-to-yourself-like-a-crazy-person time, and the first time he tried it around here someone actually heard him. Maybe he just wasn't intimidating enough or something. He'd get some wannabe punk haircut and glue paper spikes to his regulation boots next time he got the chance.

"Mind your own damn business," He muttered. "Can't a man talk to himself in the privacy of his own couch?"

He'd planted his ass in it and that was as good as any flag or private pillow fort, right? Mostly he was just dodging around any real explanation. He didn't recognize the voice, so he had no obligation to play nice, but he sat up a little anyway. There was something vaguely familiar about this guy, aside from being ridiculously good-looking. (Landel had a fetish. He was convinced.)

"I've seen you somewhere before." Whether that was around here or on the cover of some raunchy bodice-ripper he couldn't quite tell.

[bastard_sadi]

Instead of being offended, Daemon bit back a smirk, leaning on the back of the couch and peering down at the man instead. "I suppose he can, but then the staff really will think you're crazy," he pointed out with faint amusement, looking almost cheerful about the fact that the man had snarled at him.

At the statement, he inclined his head in agreement. "You looked familiar as well. I've been here a while, we might have passed one another before, although I don't think we've officially met. Daemon Sadi."

[inconstancy]

[ from here]

"This is generally a standard place that's not the cafeteria for you to get your bearings," the woman finished as they landed at the Sun Room. All of the necessary information had been filled in along the way, but Ramona was savvy enough to understand that she wasn't being told everything. It really was a mystery dinner, complete with fake identities and, she figured, fake lives. That was exactly the scenario she wanted to wake up in right at this moment.

It was even better that it included the loud and unmistakeable voice of Scott Pilgrim.

The thing was, Ramona was impressed by the set up in the Sun Room. So what if this was a military set-up? From the looks of things, people were making the best of it right now. She could respect that. Some part of her was all set to drop into one of those immediately available comfortable seats, stretch out, and watch all the action.

And then she heard him. And then she saw him. An anxious pit formed fast in her stomach, and there wasn't an immediate way to get out. Ramona looked

[witchdetective]

Despite encouraging that weird boy to keep building on her fort, Erika had no interest in her own creation and was more then happy to let it stay up, so she wasn't even expecting to spend more of her time in the Sun Room. On the contrary, she had some people to start tracking down. Yet her priorities changed rather quickly when she walked into the room and saw that someone else had built a grander fort opposite of hers, one that was quickly started to overtake her own meager attempts despite everyone else's handiwork.

When she saw that the identity of the boy who was building the second fort, she knew. It had to be done. This was war. She wasn't going to let Scott Pilgrim outdo her when it came to being an annoying, obnoxious brat. It was like that was the only achievement left she had to cling to, and she was not going to be outdone by that guy. Looking at her own fort, Erika's mind worked quickly to get several chairs of her own, rearranging them and taking whatever wasn't already being used by the other people who got here first

[antiheroed]

The same irritation settled into his stomach when he walked in and found her still working. Not only was she working, but she had opposition now, too. Normally, Riku wasn't exactly someone who had a problem with fun, but in his opinion, that meant having some sense of what's happening. Even when he would taunt and tease Sora as a kid, he had some idea of what and why they did everything. That might have been part of the problem, but it didn't make his life any less fun

[witchdetective]

As Sync already did his part by scolding Erika about looking like an idiot while building a fort, this boy's words naturally had no effect on her whatsoever as she continued to look at her fort, deciding that she had done a good enough job with the few materials she had. If she had come by earlier and took that strange boy's advice to continue building the fort during lunch, this wouldn't have happened... Deep down, Erika was naturally aware that this was the biggest waste of time imaginable, but with nothing else to do until nightfall, she thought this was a pressing enough situation

[antiheroed]

The fact that she brushed him off like that annoyed him, but her question was interesting enough for him to not just turn away like it was nothing. Riku thought this was a pointless exercise, but the fact of the matter was that she jumped right to his problem with it. Things like this could work against everyone's favor in the long term. But they were still going on. No discipline, no stopping. A task like this occurring for more than one shift meant that someone either didn't care to stop them-or was making a statement

[fourstonewalls]

Lunch had been peaceful, and the food no different, whatever Dent might have said about it. They'd stepped up the variety of experiments they were running; she'd have to check with Ema, but it didn't seem like the right way to run a facility at all, ethical issues aside. (Alright, she knew it wasn't, but it wouldn't hurt to ask Ema, once her sister had had a chance to calm down.)

The sun room had been turned into a gigantic jungle gym; there were barely any regular seats left, although it looked like a few had been liberated from the activity rooms as well to make up the numbers. Lana grabbed a folding chair, which seemed safe, and parked it close enough to the building that she could watch what seemed to be a bit of a competition.

[free!]

[roseoverture]

That the Sun Room had been turned into a gigantic jungle gym didn't faze Utena much. Anything was better than sitting with that gigantic jerk or keeping her nose over that rancid bowl for a second longer than she had to. Besides, it wasn't like she ever really needed a place to sit down, anyway. She was, more often than not, just fine parked on her feet doing stretches or leaning against a wall. At the moment, the former seemed to ping her really strongly, too. Nothing seemed to counteract sickness better than exercise, in Utena's humble opinion. Heck, lots of things were counteracted pretty well with exercise. It was practically a cure-all for her at this point

[fourstonewalls]

It was odd watching someone talk and knowing that they were speaking another language. Utena was the only person she knew for certain that that was the case; she could make some guesses -- Ilia wasn't from Earth at all, after all.

"Lana Skye, and that was my sister, Ema." She looked around -- Ema wasn't in the room, which didn't surprise her, since Lana had avoided the games room in part because Ema would want to go there.

"It's nice to meet you properly." She would have offered a hand, but she wasn't sure that was polite in Japan, and, besides, she didn't want to interrupt. "Please, don't stop on my account." The stretches had the air of long-familiarity, and for someone so young she'd been frighteningly adept with a sword. "Are you a professional athlete?"

That was better than child soldier, though if Lana had only one shot at guessing she'd pick that.

[roseoverture]

Utena wasn't really thinking about the language difference, although it did register in the back of her mind. Mostly she was just glad to see the woman, Lana, still doing well. Way too often it seemed that people got themselves horribly injured at night, or worse, they just disappeared without warning. That Lana was neither injured nor absent was a good sign. At least, as far as good signs went in Landel's Institute