Day 41: Intercom, Noon

[damned_intercom]

"Hello, hello," said the Head Doctor in a cheery tone. It sounded as if he'd gotten over his paperwork hangover. "I hope half of you are clean and that the other half of you are hungry! Or that all of you are hungry! Ha-ha... Either way, we'll be serving a down-to-earth lunch of crispy chicken strips and fries; we also have cole slaw, potato salad

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M??

[guyslikegames]

It was a sick feeling, waking up and knowing that his best friend was gone. He'd prepared himself for it, sure. They could easily get a hold of each other on their cells when they wanted to and it wasn't as if he was moving out of the country. Still, it was going to be jarring not having him stop by Junes all the time.

Of course, the moment Yousuke sat up in bed, that sick feeling was replaced with another completely different one. This wasn't his room. This wasn't his bed. "What the hell?" the boy sputtered, quickly taking in everything in the darkened room that he could. Gazing down at himself, he realized that the clothes weren't even his. Wait. Was he having an out-of-body experience? Well, he supposed he was technically still in a body. But was it his own? A brief run of his hand through his hair made him pretty sure that it was. (He'd read enough bad manga about this sort of thing.) For a moment, he contemplated peeking into his pants just to be certain, but didn't. He didn't know where he was and who might be

M??

[otnemememento]

Leonard awoke slowly as he often did, feeling the other side of the bed for the familiar feeling of his wife's body. His hand hit the wall instead, and he opened his eyes. He sat up and looked around as his thoughts rang through his head.

An anonymous room, he observed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. No windows, two beds, two wardrobes. He routinely started rummaging through the drawers, looking for any sort of clue as to where he was and what he was doing here. A journal, he thought as he flipped through the empty pages. Pens in the drawers, clothing- unfamiliar. He caught sight of his bare arm- tattoos? They seemed to trail all the way up his arm. He looked down the collar of his shirt; there were more beneath his clothing. He pulled the garment off, revealing more ink. Words were etched across his chest in every direction, even backwards and upside-down. The words traveled to his arms, where he could read more: She is go-His reading was interrupted by the door opening- a woman in white stepped into the

M??

[deadlynoble]

It was difficult to know where one nightmare ended and the other began.Anger seized Ciel completely, a rage that no child should ever know, yet it sang through his veins, vibrant and uncontrolled, without any other outlet but the face before him that still had the gall to radiate envy and admiration towards him

M??

[deadlynoble]

--

When he finally re-opened his eyes, the last thing he'd been expecting was the soft bed under his person and a silence that already had him on edge and clutching the sweat-soaked sheets shrouding his body. Immediately, his hand slipped under the pillow, searching for the gun that should be there but wasn't. That wasn't the only thing that was missing. A quick perusal of the room he was in proved that he was no longer in his mansion anymore.

Could he be locked up somewhere in Lord Kelvin's mansion? The thought alone sent a slow shiver crawling down his spine, but he knew that answer was also unlikely. Sebastian had been with him at the time, and there was no way Sebastian would ever allow him to-

...and that's when it occurred to him.

Where the hell was Sebastian?! That idiot couldn't have run off at a time like this!He sat up abruptly, his head whipping around wildly, scanning every inch of the room as if he could peel through the walls with his gaze alone. The eye patch was still in place, regulating his vision to just his

M??

[141_12]

Otacon knew something was wrong when he felt himself in a soft bed, the air warmer than it usually was in the Nomad, and quieter too. No machine hums or keyboard clacking or the press of air pressure; none of the oddly comforting signs of living in a too small space flying thousands of feet in the air. And even if they were on the ground (why wouldn't they be, when there was no one they needed to evade now?), Otacon normally fell asleep on a bench, or in his computer chair. The last time he'd woken up anywhere else had been- awhile ago.

He opened his eyes now to the blurry view of an unfamiliar ceiling, not remember taking off his glasses... or going to bed, at that. No. Otacon straightened up in bed, feeling sick. He'd planned, after the wedding, to trace the last known location of Snake's nanomachines, and...

Drebin, he thought with a jolt of realization, but discounted the idea in the next second. The wine he'd brought had been drunk by everybody, and in copious amounts - everybody, that is, except for Otacon, who still had one

[entaiho]

This wasn't his room in Genei Palace.

Something was wrong.

Several thoughts occurred to him at once as Rokuta awoke, those two primary above the rest, and he fought back a wave of dizziness as he sat up too quickly. The feeling of light pressure against his forehead was an all too familiar memory, if a distant one: he hadn't experienced this for over five centuries, but it wasn't something he was likely to forget.

He lifted a hand to the stone and the cord that bound it in place, giving a light shudder as he wondered who bore its twin. Whose life was endangered to keep him bound here - wherever this was?

It certainly wasn't En, of that he was certain. How had he been spirited away from his kingdom? What was going to happen to it if he wasn't there? To Shouryuu? The king wasn't dead, he realized, but that did little to calm the rising tide of alarm within him. The ouki was there, but distant. Far distant, similar to how it felt when he was visiting Hourai