Claude couldn't fight the sinking feeling in his stomach when he woke up. Nightshift was over, and they hadn't even made it into the basement. Man, how tough was that? Sometimes it seemed like the night could drag on and on, and when he actually needed the extra time, it went by too fast. It didn't make any sense
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Last night he'd managed to avoid trouble, but at the cost of little personal gain. The doll instinctively knew when the proverbial clock struck midnight, every night, every time, but he was nowhere near as good at knowing when sunrise was coming. He hadn't had the time to find his own box in the patient possession before he'd woken up in M10 again. Shame, that. And it was still pretty irritating, being dragged to and fro without warning--with Ojou it was different.
Eh. No point in getting ( ... )
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Augh, God. Had he died again?
Actually, no. Wash was pretty sure he'd just passed out, which made...about as much sense (as in, none), but it made himself feel better than the possibility that touching a keyboard had killed him dead, so he'd go with that explanation.
Trying to sort out exactly what might've occurred--what happened to the people he was with?--Wash paid little attention as the nurse pushed a few things on him (oh, a Hawaiian shirt; that hadn't come from his own closet, had it?) and cheerfully navigated him outside. Was that a...bus?
That was a bus. Okay, then.
He located the nearest seat he could find; it wasn't until he sat down that he realized someone was next to him.
He hoped this guy wouldn't call him out on being the new guy again. Not that he minded, really. He was just running out of new ways to confirm this information.
"Hi."
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He'd done everything possible on a bus, from spying to driving, and it was particularly boring being a passenger when the bus was idling. He'd never been a kid waiting to go to school or an adult waiting to go to work--he'd never had to get used to it. Buses were kind of old and clunky, anyway.
The doll stared out the window at the parking lot, straw in mouth, drinking orange juice and thinking nothing in particular.
Then a male someone sat down on the doll's seat. "Hi," he repeated, smiling. When it came to a face he hadn't seen around much before, he could guess that they weren't looking to single him out for something, maybe just for someone to talk to. "Your shirt's pretty bright, man. Makes you wish you had your normal clothes back, ne?"
Engaging in conversations was a piece of cake. Though mostly, the comment had kind of been on his mind already. The doll didn't make a habit of wearing muscle shirts and jeans, himself.
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He peered into the paper bag, curious. Paper bag lunch. That was new. But look, the apples were cut up, as if the institute wanted to confirm for him that there were no grenades in the piece of fruit.
He looked over. "I'm Wash, by the way," he added.
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She was moderately sucessful until someone saw fit to plop down next to her. Her eyes shot open in surprise before quickly turning to annoyance. Another child! They seriously must love children here to have so many. But even with her protective instinct kicking in, this child was far too close for her normal comfort level, let alone right now. Renamon stared down at him, her voice flat. "Is this the only place you had to sit?"
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Of course, at that time many of the other seats had filled up, and the bus was about to begin rolling out of the institute. Outside of that, he really didn't feel like moving. Moving was an admission of weakness, a giving of ground that he didn't want to give. He'd lost enough already to have this moron trying to one-up him, too.
"In case you didn't notice," he said, resisting the urge to call her an idiot. Calm down, Hitsugaya, he told himself, imagining the fierce yet oddly comforting voice of Hyorinmaru scolding him. "There aren't a lot of options. It's not a long drive, I'm sure you'll survive."
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Now this was eerily reminiscent of the Reapers' Game, Shiki thought as she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. While it was still jarring to wake up somewhere other than the last place she had been, you kind of got used to it after a week.
She listened to the intercom announcement, frowning. Does this mean I have to wear these awful clothes into town and back? Ugh! What a drag. It was a relief when her nurse came in a few minutes later carrying a pair of boot-cut jeans, a brown-and-pink striped tee, a brown zip-up hoodie, and a pair of pink high-top sneakers. "Good morning, Nicole! You must be excited about the trip today. I brought something for you to wear. Go on and get changed, and I'll be waiting right outside for you."
Shiki changed quickly, and met her nurse. The pair made their way outside to the buses, and the nurse handed her her breakfast. She stepped onto the bus and found a window seat near the back.
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It took her a minute to compose herself enough to respond to the question. "I'm sorry? I don't think we've met?"
She could panic after she heard the answer.
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"Mm... no, I never forget a face. Shibuya, wasn't it? And besides, Neku told me all about you." Which was just a tiny stretch of the truth, but what Shiki didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
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It was with worry that Clark stepped onto the bus, feeling uncomfortable in clothes that didn't feel like his. They looked like something he'd wear, a set of worn jeans and a red shirt, but somehow it just didn't feel his. His arm still hurt from the attack last night, but he could see it'd been bandaged - when, exactly, he didn't remember. The last thing he remembered was trying to help Wally, thinking in the back of his head he should've listened to him and now look what they got into! Then nothing. Then the bed. And the nurse ( ... )
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He was surprised Leon's roomie hadn't told him all the details, like what happened on the buses back and how they'd been trapped on the buses when night fell. If Leon knew, he definitely wasn't showing it. Then again, Clark guessed that he was a cop and so if anyone was prepared for this crazy stuff, it'd be someone like Leon. Anyway, he probably should warn Leon in case his roomie really hadn't said anything. The farmboy cleared his throat, picking at an invisible thread on his jeans:
"The people seem pretty normal, but you won't be able to get a call out: we tried," Clark began. "Last time I was there, we got stuck on the buses when it turned into night. All the patients got trapped with the staff when they changed."
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Beatrix found the nurses had chosen a long flowing blue broom skirt and a loose white shirt for her this trip. She was annoyed at the lack of pockets (though it did have one of those little internal ones that pretty much only held a sanitary pad), but she had to admit the outfit was something she would have worn and even looked nice in if it hadn't been for the fresh bandages that proclaimed she was still injured to the world. As much as she wanted to kill her nurse, the woman did at least treat her like and adult and left the room so she could change. This allowed her to slip the iPod into the inner pocket of her skirt and redo her hair so she could properly conceal the pairing knife in it. One should always be prepared.
Ushered out to the buses, the Bride accepted her paper bag of breakfast and found herself a seat in the middle of the bus. Unwrapping the granola bar, she kept an eye out for any of her wards. She hadn't seen Rena for a couple days and she was still worried about Hanyuu...
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Beatrix smiled warmly and nodded. "Of course you can," she said, sliding over a little to indicate it was alright to take up more of the seat. It looked like the nurses had overestimated the small girl's size, but she had to admit she found the effect a little cute.
"You're hair's very pretty like that," the Bride added on. "How are you doing this morning?"
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"It feels a little... strange," she said quietly, reaching up to rub her head where one of her horns should've been. She wasn't used to having her hair styled, even if it was as something as simply as a ponytail. "I'm... okay, though. I slept last night, so I didn't run into any more monsters or anything. That's a good thing... I think." Depending on whether or not prolonging the inevitable was considered a 'good thing', at least. "How are you?"
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