[Day 124_

This is what the PDA blinks up at her, the lines around her eyes being uncharacteristically evident in response.

Day 124 was yesterday.

Yesterday was --

She blinks down at the food plate abruptly placed under her nose, only belatedly nodding at the drone's back as it retreats back into the kitchen. Taking their food isn't something she usually does but she makes an exception today, the holes in her mind weighing down her shoulders from their usual sturdy, unbreakable, knightly set.

Her lips twisting briefly in an utterly soundless sigh, Anya turns away from the food. She isn't even hungry anymore.]

[ As she opened her eyes, anesthetics wearing off, there were but three thoughts in Sasha's mind: how to thank those who have helped her, and how can she help Medusa? For the latter, she may not be the Athena the woman had known, but she is Athena nonetheless.

And third, how to tell her friends of what had transpired and convince them to not worry -- or perhaps she can hope that they did not know, they do not have to know.

She shifts on the hospital bed and winced at the pain on her legs, side and forearm, and took a moment to quietly admire the fast medical work. She then tries to sit on the side of the bed. Perhaps if she tried to summon her healing, she might be able to leave before the day ended -- or perhaps that was not a very good idea. She tries to step off, quietly as she can, to head towards the door, or just to explore the room. ]



(( *OOC: Action open to DF members and those who have reason to be in the hospital. To avoid time paradox, first tagger will be the one to spot her to convince her to get back to bed; the rest will have to be "visitors" throughout the day. :3 ))

[Her conversation with Charles from yesterday had reminded Marianne of how much the silence chafed at her, and she rises up for a little while. Every street, every store front and restaurant, Marianne weaves in and out of the different sectors haplessly until she makes it to her destination.

It only takes her a few minutes to disable the vi Britannia manor's security system, sliding in through the back door and going straight for the kitchen. Somehow, she trusts that her son keeps the best produce.]


((OOC: Closed to residents of the Casa di vi Britannia or those who would have a good reason to be there!))

[Charles is in the education center in the midafternoon, determined to conquer its computers. He just needs someone to come along who knows about them so that he can lift that lovely knowledge right out of their brain. So he's waiting, sitting at one computer, shifting the mouse slowly and marveling at the way it follows his movements.]



((OOC: if you plan to tag, please fill this out? as described above, Charles really has no plans other than the subject of that permission post. tags may be slowed if I don't know your canon. /cough))

[Cross has taken to wandering, looking for people who will cook him something decent. Stupid Idiot Apprentice and his ridiculous grandstanding has left him with only the lousy restaurants to choose from. As if he'd eat pizza.]

[Not looking particularly approachable though. And especially not when he goes to light a cigarette, and his lighter just clicks, producing no flame.] Damn thing. [*flick flick flickflick FLICK* ... *throw* Sorry if it hits you; it's plastic, get over it.]

((OOC: Someone is in a Mood. And I'm looking specifically for people to make it worse! He needs to get in the right (read: BAD) frame of mind for his Gabe-prank next dayweek! Antagonize at will~ ...nicetags are of course welcome, but don't expect him to be very accommodating. ^^;;))

[he's secured a small section of green near the border of sector 3 and sector 4, and he's crouched there with his coat and button-down shirt long tossed over by the side of the road, working in the dirt. he's acquired a decent-sized crop of eggplant sprouts and is planting them carefully; more than a little bit careful because he barely knows what he's doing]

[he's tired after the meeting and after the hassle of the last few days. the last week. the last year. but he can't just shut it out or turn his brain off, so -- he'll try this instead]

...I don't even like eggplant. [to himself]

[well, he'll be here for the second half of the day, if you want to stumble across him]

[Ending his day with his usual martial arts training at the dojo and a several mile run, Kyou finally burned off some of the built up tension he'd developed earlier in the day. Frustration at Momiji was worsened by having to do something he wasn't really comfortable doing at the ice skating rink. The training tonight had helped ground him, relaxing him in a way that very few things were capable of doing. Exhausted after his cooldown, he dropped down onto a bench in the park in sector 4 to just clear his mind and enjoy the nature there.

It started with one, approaching from beneath the bench to brush up against his ankles. Used to this sort of thing, he ignored it for a few minutes until a second one jumped up onto the bench next to him--determined to crawl onto his lap and get his attention. He allowed it, even going as far as to give it a scratch or two on the head before the third one showed up.

Now...he was just starting to get agitated again. Pushing the one cat off his lap, he switched his communicator to video so everyone could get a good look at his visitors.]

Okay! WHO IS MISSING THEIR CAT?

[ooc: Anyone can claim them if they have a cat. Or just come marvel make fun of Kyou.]

Great. From one prison to another. Tch- doesn't even look like a prison. Just where the hell am I, anyway? This message doesn't explain anything!

[She sounds very much unbothered by her list of crimes.

She shifts, and along with her the rustle of fabric. Lots and lots of fabric. She fiddles with the communicator a bit - it's not difficult to figure out, so she turns on the audio function, not quite aware that it was already recording.]

Attention! I request some information. If I'm going to remain here for- life, I'd at least like to know a few things first.

[She's playing nice for now, because she's confident that even here Zero- Lelouch will find and save her. He said so.]

"Ha. Ha. Ha." This is where I'm supposed to laugh, right? [The video shows Kaoru, looking most unimpressed, clearly more annoyed by his surroundings than anything -- though anyone that knows him will be able to recognize the faint, uncertain waver in his tone.] My lord, this really is your worst idea yet. This is a "The Host Club members are wrongly accused! Survival in the commoner prison!" scene or whatever, right? For one, no one is going to accept that Honey-senpai could be falsely accused of anything, and no one will believe that Mori-senpai would just let it happen. For another, this list of crimes is so crass -- isn't this bad for our reputation? [Both the waver and the annoyance suddenly become more pronounced.] And separating Hikaru and I isn't funny.

[Silence reigns for a moment before Kaoru sighs and rises, not bothering to turn off the video feed as he turns and walks away from the camera and heads for the door.] I bet that thing doesn't even work. Cheap props aren't a good--

[Then Kaoru pulls open the door and stops dead, staring out the door and up at a bot that's slowly passing by. He's silent aside from a faint shocked sound before he suddenly growls and spins around, stalking back towards the camera. He looks angry and worried, now, and when he reaches the table he snatches up the communicator, hands shaking, and accidentally cuts the feed off.]

[ Around noon, the robots that had been swarming the beach scatter, leaving a transformed landscape in their wakes. There are volleyball nets set up in the sand, along with colorful umbrellas and blankets beneath them. Part of the water has been sectioned off for water polo, while inflatable rafts in fanciful shapes are ready for use in the open area.

Ringing the beach are food stands serving street and festival foods: chin chin, takoyaki and taiyaki, aloo tikki, sabikh, empanada, hot dogs, ice cream and shaved ice, and suchlike. There is one stand where a robot serves an alcoholic punch not completely unlike sangria. Several of the other stands also serve non-alcoholic drinks. Clean up robots zoom from place to place, picking up garbage. ]

[Roxas is sitting on a bench by the park, with a small blue PDA in his hands. He is perusing it with great seriousness, because he honestly has no idea how anything like this thing works. Almost literally the only technology that he has ever handled before this moment has been his communicator, and that only has three buttons on it.]

[Under his booted feet is a skateboard. He is rocking it back and forth a little idly while he attempts to learn the ways of his new toy.]

[He's waiting for someone, but you can come run into him, or contact him over the network here!]

[once the line is open she hesitates, like so many times before she finally had the courage to click the button. Anew quickly double-checks the filter, takes a deep breath,]

Does anyone mind answering a question for me? I know it's a little personal -- [just say it]

Is it a hard thing for you to stand up for yourself?

[ Suzaku's morning is very normal; he wakes up, goes for a swim, heads to the Defense Force, sequesters himself in his office, reads a few personality profiles if there are pending members; he wanders the HQ halls a little bit, listening intently to the network for anyone who might need help and talking to other Force members.

and then it gets to be around eleven, eleven-thirty, and something shifts hard in his belly, making him lurch and cling to the edge of his desk. he slides slowly to the floor, smothered pain as his head pounds, a million seconds' worth of memory slamming into his brain with the force of a speeding truck.

he spends what feels like hours there on the floor, breathing harshly, trying and failing to focus. in reality it's only a few minutes.

and then, slowly, carefully, he pushes himself to his feet again. what... what was that? he-- he's still in his office but it feels like it's been -- days, weeks, months. only he wasn't really there, he was here; he knows he was. fuck, he feels like he's going to-- no, he just wants to be sick. he really... Lelouch really-- they...

Suzaku scrubs a hand over his face, his eyes. it's too much to process all at once but he knows one thing with crystal clarity: he is going home early today. ]


((ooc: canon update! PEOPLE WHO WANT TO TALK DF BUSINESS, TAG THE FIRST THREAD. if you wanna find Suzaku sick in his office, tag the second! and housemates are more than welcome to tag on for the third, but there may be some sexy times in that thread so viewer beware!))

[exhausted from the infuriating encounters of the day, Roxas has retired to the top of the clocktower with all his possessions in a knapsack. he eyes the curtains decorating the interior of the spire but he just drops his belongings in the corner and moves to set up a makeshift bed]

[he'll just be here, now, and that'll be good enough]



(( ooc: open to anyone who has reason to hunt him down (like Axel), anyone who has reason to be on top of the clocktower (like Rapunzel), or anyone who wants to contact him over the network (like all the many people he worried today)! ))

[Closed | Defense Force Headquarters]

[The arrival of Schuldig is for Ken, a cause for great concern. He may be alone, but this was one of the more unpredictable members of Schwartz, and there is no knowing what the telepath/speed demon can and will do in a prison where the guilty and the innocent are mixed together.

Ken did not want to have to do this, but without Weiss, without a team he can work with, he knows he needs help. And quietly, using the brouhaha caused by the coming of new inmates, he heads towards the Defense Force Headquarters, and addresses the first person he sees --]

Um. Excuse me, I need to speak to someone --

--------------

[Open | Sector 5 - Convenience Store]

[Looks like someone's spacing out over the tofu, or maybe even the poultry section. Or he's finding the nutrition facts of a can of water chestnuts far too interesting. Either way, this is not the lively florist/soccer fanatic the prison has seen so far...]


(( OOC: Thread with Suzaku at the DF HQ is closed, while he needs to snapped out of his reverie at the Convenience Store after. :3 Have at~! ))
 

[lots of rustling and shaking noises, since Kon's taken off his headset to examine it. He looks pretty out of place - the man in the long robes with the wooden geta sandals] ...Huh. Looks like those goggles... [sticks it back on his head and looks around]

This is my second time, so I really shouldn't be surprised. [sighs, rubs his head] So - question.

If I try to take a shower, will these robots follow me in?

[ He's silent for a moment. This new memory -- no, it couldn't be a memory, but -- well, it came out of nowhere. Except that wasn't true, either. It came from somewhere in his brain, which meant either it was a real memory or a hallucination. A bad reaction from the stimulation, maybe made worse because of the vicodin? ]

Stop the carousel, Chase. Ate too much cotton candy and now it's time for little Timmy to get off and vomit.

[ And nothing happens. He's still hallucinating. Mmkay. ]

Hey. Moron. It's not working, as in, time to stop.

[ Inspecting the weird digital S&M mask he came equipped with now, as he continues to ramble in not so much a nervous way, but in order to walk himself through this bizarre occurrence of sci-fi and crime drama. ]

Yeah, yeah, I get it. Under the ocean minus the reggae and sexy redhead mermaid. Sounds like the opposite of fun. [ another brief pause, as he grunts and fails at trying to get up ] And where the hell is my cane?

[Everything hurt. He felt like he was defrosting, and when he looked down at his hands, he guess he kind of was. He was dripping water, mostly because of the ice melting from his armor and his hair. He shook his head, clearing the haziness, ice crystals flying as he slowly straightened up off the grass he was laying on beneath... a tree?

Had there been trees before? He didn't think so. Not in the graveyard. There had been nothing in the graveyard but desolation...]

Aqua! Terra!

[He jerked up, groaning and clutching his head as a headache spiked through it. He looked around, not recognizing a thing, though he did spot what looked like... well he was not sure what it looked like. A visor for your eyes? What he didn't know was that the communicator was recording him as he slowly came towards it and the welcome basket beside it. He poked at it briefly and then looked back around, eyebrows drawn.]

Aqua? Terra? Are you guys here?

Guys? Guys?!

[His voice rose a bit in the start of restrained panic as he looked around, grabbing the visor as he did, stumbling to his feet, steaming as he defrosted, looking around.]

Is... anyone here...?

[ooc: Fresh meat. That is all.]

Oh.







Shit.

[ look at this cute little guy, tinkering his way to your eyeballs with his newly-acquired, newly-fangled doo-hickey. he clearly has no fucking idea what he's doing or that you can even see him and his elaborate flail routine. all this muttering that you may think is addressed to you is actually addressed to himself. and the more and more he talks, the more and more you get the feeling that he's about to implode out of nerves. ]

This is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is stupid this is shit. I've never gone prison-bad, I don't suit prison, look at my face, not even really fancy ones like this, I can't keep hold of the soap at the best of times, how can A-cumin expect me to deal with this and this stupid ball and its stupid chain friend.

Man. Sis'd be so disappointed in me.

You know, it might not have been tentacle monstrosities from the fucking netherside of shitmoutain, but like fuck I'm going to sleep again in this place either. [Karkat rubs his exhausted eyes. Even being asleep for as long as he had been hadn't taken the edge off of his tiredness.] You're going to have to fucking submerge me in sopor slime before I fall asleep again.

[He shoots the video a venomous glare.] And that, for any of you nosy-ass complaining assholes, isn't something I'm gonna let happen.

[The communicator clicks off at this point, switching to a private feed.]

( Locked to PM )