Control Room.
0600.

“I am a god, and a dog. I am Elk Lither, the killer, Vaus Heriot, the saviour and Vane Khet the knave. But above all, I am Aril Eth, the liar, and Anther Agma, the anagram.”

Gloved hands skated over view screens in an almost loving caress as if fingers could see sleeping faces as well as eyes.

“I am insanity made sane, I am sanity corrupted; I am what it is to be human personified, and what it is to be evolved percolated; concentrated into existence squared.”

Behind the comforting abnormality of words, The Instigator smiled in delight at his creation; these were his walls, this was his castle, and the people therein were his experiment.

“I am the sheep in wolf’s clothing; the lamb that dresses as a lion and the lion that dresses as a lamb. In the dark spaces, I consume myself. I am not the snake that swallows its tail to form a constant circle, no, I am the crude rush of bloodshed and regurgitation; I am the cannibalisation behind the fairytale.”

Something like pride festered in his veins alongside curiosity and a dark, merciless desire to understand what it was that made things as they were. He longed for what society swore that he would never have and so he took it; a gift to himself and his own ambition. He built his asylum from the most bittersweet of lies; those that the uneducated believed as absolute fact.

“I am the mind that sleeps so that you might dream,” he murmured as his stole away from the control room and into the building proper, his presence unhindered and unnoticed by his nurses. They were beautiful things; so intent, so focussed, so blind. “I am the one who dreams you into being.”



Room 1.
0644.

Agent Tori Sith stared at the walls of his magnolia prison, thinking on death. They spoke of containment, the walls, of deprivation and interrogation. They would torture him for information, perhaps, or maybe leave him all alone and ignore his presence in their vast establishment. Both were possible, of course, though it was likely that Tori was simply insane.

He did not question how he had come to be contained in an off white cell with bars on the window and a window in the door (a place were no window should be; door-windows spoke of spies), for in his mind he knew. He was Agent Tori Sith, after all.

There was the beginnings of activity outside; he could hear footsteps and cries, but he made no move to broach the threshold that was the door. He would not leave his prison for fear of being seen; there were eyes everywhere carefully watching for people like him. Agent Tori Sith, alone in the asylum; his would have been a pitiful fate, had it not been so much of an adventure.

“I wonder if someone will come and knock on the door?” Tori asked himself as he settled back to wait. Someone was bound to find him eventually.



Room 13.
0700.

Jack awoke feeling that something was not quite right, but couldn’t put his finger on what that something was. It was a decidedly galling sensation, he decided, and for a long moment he did nothing but think on that. He felt… off. There was no other way to describe it. He wasn’t in pain. He didn’t feel sick. He was neither too hot or too cold. He didn’t itch, he didn’t feel especially dizzy, and yet, despite it all, there was something very much not right about whatever was going on.

In an attempt to clarify his situation, Jack opened his eyes, and was actually somewhat disappointed to find his vision clear and pain free. With the crawling sensation of something be amiss grating on his mind, it would have almost been a relief to find himself suddenly and inexplicably blind. No such luck, however, and a quick snap of his fingers and a pointed cough later informed him that he had both his hearing and his vocal abilities also. Bother.

He wasn’t paralysed, he found when he raised both arms and legs to examine himself, and despite the frankly frightful pyjamas that he was wearing, his body looked normal. His hair tie was missing, and the cheap pillow under his head had charged his hair with enough static to crackle, but that was a common occurrence that came hand in hand with sleep, so could not be nailed as the culprit.

Rolling over, Jack clarified the lack of dizziness, and a shift later proved that he could stand. His feet were cold, sans slippers and adorned only with rather unpleasant grey socks, but perfectly happy to carry his weight, which seemed to be about the same as it usually was and a little bit less than it should be.

It was only when he made his way over to the window in the door that he realised what was wrong: he didn’t own a pair of ugly pyjamas, nor did he wear thick grey socks. Glancing down again, he came to the definite conclusion that he was not wearing his own clothes, which was a decidedly unsettling phenomenon. Where on earth had these frankly horrible garments come from? If he had borrowed them, then they could have only come from his brother. Each item fit nicely, and Jack, who was very tall, had no illusions when it came to the difficulty that posed when looking for clothes. There was no way that the scandalously unattractive pyjamas had come from a friend, because Jack didn’t know anyone his size, and Vinny would never wear anything grey.

Speaking of Vinny… Jack carefully looked around the small room, noting a marked lack of furniture, and an even more marked lack of his brother. Where on earth had Vinny gotten to? Surely they had been together the last- oh.

A little alarmed now, Jack took another good, hard look at where he was, and came up against some rather worrying blanks. He was in a little room that looked far too much like a cell for his comfort; the bars on the window had no place in a person’s home, and the stark, cheaply painted feel of the place spoke of an institution, and an inexpensive one at that.

The bed said hospital rather than prison, the bars said incarcerated rather than voluntary admission, and all of it added up to something being decidedly not right.

And Jack had thought that knowing what was wrong would make it better… Bugger.

Room 5
0700

“Hello?”
Sarah pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked around the room she found herself in. It was a depressingly ugly color and way too institutional to be comforting, especially given the fact that she was waking up with absolutely no memory of how she got there.
Sitting at the edge of the bed, she leaned over and looked under it, smiling a bit at the darkness underneath. One thing about institutional lighting, it was bright and harsh, casting excellent shadows.
She held out one hand to them, they came at her beckoning, obedient as a well trained pet. So she hadn’t lost that along with her memory. Good.

Standing up, she held the shadows wrapped around one hand while she explored her new surroundings. A look back showed that there was no longer a shadow under the bed. It was a bit disconcerting sometimes, but she had long since gotten used to it. There was a window covered in bars, she formed a small step stool to stand on to see out of. Unfortunately it was nothing but the average landscaping that might be seen at any government building. Nothing to learn there.

Nothing else to do but the obvious . . . she went to the door and was mildly shocked to find that it was unlocked. Pushing it open, she found herself to be stepping out into a hallway lined with doors just like hers, numbers beside each one up and down the corridor. Apparently she was in room 5. Towards the right was the end of the hall, with one more door set at the very end. Towards the left was what looked like a station of some kind. Not feeling like dealing with authority, she went right and found the mystery door lead to a bathroom. She made use of it and was disturbed to find that it didn’t lock. Not surprising in what was starting to look like a government nuthouse, but she could take care of that; she wrapped a bit of shadow around the door handle and felt reasonably comfortable that she wouldn’t be disturbed. No toothpaste, whoever brought her here would just get to deal with morning breath.

Finally there was nowhere else to go, so she left the bathroom and went down to the nurses station.
“Anybody here?”

Room 6
0715

A lanky youth rolled over on his bed, eyes squinting open sleepily. As his eyes opened, however, he was driven to slowly sit up by the sight of an unfamiliar room. Devan gazed around to take in the bars on the window and the window on the door and the plain, largely unfurnished room. His face remained blank all the while, unfazed by the alien environment he found himself in. His brows only knit when he glanced down, double-taking. What the hell was he wearing? He consciously felt at his thighs to confirm he had even been stripped of his boxers. His gaze lifted with a newfound darkness - usually the closest thing Devan got to looking angry. It was no surprise to him if he had been abducted to be put into some correctional facility or mental hospital, but to take his clothes and stick him in this shit was unacceptable.

He stood from the bed and walked to the door, peering out the small window cautiously. The hallway outside looked like it could belong to either a correctional facility or a mental hospital. Slim women with delicate faces walked at a leisurely pace to and fro, not like one might expect of nurses who probably had somewhere to be. Devan turned, giving another careful look around the room for anything he could make into a weapon, but there was nothing. Just the bed, sheets, pillow, and the loathsome excuse for clothes he had on. Returning his gaze to the window his hands reached for the handle of the door. He stepped back, blinking, as the door opened obediently. He tilted his head slightly, but shrugged off the little twist in his predicament to step into the hall. Each nurse who passed by turned to smile at him briefly in greeting, as if they were happy to see he was out and about. The dark look remained in his eyes.

He gazed down each way of the hall, one of which ended nearby with two separate doors. He cast a final glance over each nurse in the vicinity before breaking into a sudden sprint for the nearest door, but he slowed upon reaching it and sighting the male restroom symbol on one door and the female symbol on the other. Boring. The bathroom was not what he needed right now.

The wild-haired youth swiveled around languidly like a child exaggerating his frustration, and then began striding down the hall in the opposite direction. Ahead he could see something like an office lobby, where two more nurses sat behind a counter. But what most caught his eye were two others in the same uniform as him: a tall girl with long, dark hair, and a small, scruffy-haired boy. This made him stop before he reached the lobby, wary of approaching what appeared to be fellow patients... or inmates. He stood still where he was in the hall, eyeing the pair.

~

Room 11
0652

Matt was roused from his sleep by a sudden discomfort, a discomfort he was surprised hadn't woken him sooner. He was not in the mess of pillows and blankets that made his bed, and he was not in canine form. Most of the time he preferred to sleep in canine form, even if only for a nap - and regardless of the room temperature he liked to encase himself in blankets and pillows. He rolled out of the alien bed, tumbling onto the hard floor and scrambling to his feet. Already his heart began to race with anxiety. This room was small and bare. The bars on the windows did nothing to soothe his growing sense of panic. Matt quickly moved to the door and, to his surprise, pulled it open with ease.

The hall he found himself in was as plain as the room, and uniformed nurses walked them. This made his throat run dry. He hated hospitals. What was this? Where was he? Why was he here? His parents wouldn't have done this to him... Had a teacher? Had a human witnessed his shifting and somehow convinced authorities to capture him? But even amongst the authorities, there were friends of his kind who could squeeze people like him out of trouble should their abilities ever be found out.

He realized he was beginning to hyperventilate and then took a moment to try to calm down. If he got too panicked, his hallucinations would kick in, and his mental stability would just go downhill from there - he couldn't let that happen, not when he didn't even know where he was. He breathed deeply to take in the smell of the place and to scan for anything or anyone familiar... but quickly regretted it. It smelled like a hospital. Less crowded, less like death and blood and vomit, but all those stenches lingered as if they were being smothered, as if someone was purposefully trying to hide them. He did, however, pick up more normal scents. The nurses' smell blended in with the hospital, but there were other people here with different odors. He could smell a boy that must have been in a room near his... Hair dye somewhere mixed in with a female scent, and also a male scent that smelled similar - the two were probably related. Another girl farther away. And around the same distance, a thick odor of minty toothpaste that nearly covered a male scent. So there were at least five other non-staff here, though considering all the doors he could see there might have been more.

Speaking of staff, none of the nurses appeared to mind his being out of his room. That must have been the case, since his door had been open and all. Matt walked hesitantly down the hall, following a clearer female scent that had been moving in the distance; he could guess it was someone out of her room, like him.
"Anybody here?" A light voice called.
Matt spotted her in the open area he was approaching. A taller girl with long, black hair. He caught a subtle whiff of anxiety from her. She was nervous, but far from panicked. Tentatively, he lifted his hand to give a little wave, though he paused and looked at his hand upon realizing it was naked. Even his dress gloves had been taken... He had to shut his eyes and consciously keep himself from hyperventilating again. When he opened them he started walking to the girl again, but stopped. The toothpaste smell was getting closer.

There. Back in the hall the girl must have come from, a scarecrow of a boy stood staring at them. The boy's auburn hair was an intentional mess - and based on how strong the toothpaste odor was, Matt could guess it came from the boy's hair rather than his breath. Matt tilted his head not unlike a questioning puppy. What a curious way to style one's hair. Something about the way the wild-haired youth looked at them was.. unnerving. The boy's eyes were as dark as Matt's but had a strange look in them. Matt recognized the look as a subtle threat - the menacing, calculated stare of an animal, a predator, yet this boy smelled human. Which was all the more unnerving.

Room 13.
0715

Jack was not ashamed to admit that he indulged in a little bit of a panic after the frankly horrifying realisation that, not only was he not in his own house, be he seemed to have been incarcerated as well. Really, he was not having the most pleasant of days; waking up in a muddle and dressed in frightful pyjamas, only to realise that he’d been committed somewhen in the interim. That was just- there was no way his luck was that bad!

He sighed, going back to the little window in the door (panicking was limited to the bed; it had to be, or these things tended to bleed out into everyday life) in the hopes of finding divine enlightenment. A kid with sticky looking hair wandering around outside his room was not really what Jack had in mind, but beggars, it seemed, could not be choosers. At least he wasn’t alone in the ugly-pyjama department.

A brief examination later showed the door was unlocked, and brought a return of that damnable ‘not quite right’ feeling. A moment ago, he had been certain that it was caused by his sudden and unexplained arrival in the Asylum of the Fashion Faux-pas, but now he was somewhat less than sure. This place definitely said ‘institutional care’; it was branded right down into the sharp tang of industrial cleaning fluids in the air, but something was screaming at Jack that it was all very, very wrong.

He shook his head, realising that he had missed his chance to snag the boy in passing; the lad had crossed the end of the corridor beside Jack's room and moved on. He needed to spend less time dithering around and actually do something, or he was never going to get the answers to the questions he so desperately needed. With that in mind, he gave the door a gentle poke, and stuck his head outside.

Nothing bad happened; he wasn’t struck down by cartoon lightning (he scolded his mind for even thinking about such ridiculous things) or reprimanded by the nurses that floated back and forth, in fact, they seemed pleased to see him. …like they knew who he was….

Oh god, how long had he been here?!

Jack swallowed, trying to force the blind panic away. He needed to think, he needed to find out what was going on. “Why am I hear?” he asked the nurse patrolling his corridor, trying to hide the crack in his voice as she turned to view him with bland, placid eyes.

“You know why you’re here,” Her kind response sent a thrill of terror skating through his every nerve ending, and it was only his freezing shock that kept Jack from flinching away. “It’s all right, Jack, you know why you’re here.”

He most certainly did not know how he got to be in this place, where every breath spoke of wrongness, but he wracked his brains regardless. All he could come up with was a shuttle bus through London, and hefting heavy bags into Gatwick’s crowded sprawl. His suitcase had had wheels, Vinny had been dressed in bright green; they had been going on holiday, so how on earth had he ended up here, alone?!

“But how did I get here?!” he pleaded, desperate for some of the kindness in her expression to leech out and comfort him. Surely, if she knew so much about him she could tell him what had happened, she could tell him where his brother was?

However, his hopes were dashed less than a second later when a wry, apologetic look crept onto her face. He knew what she was going to say before she even opened her mouth, and the crushing feeling of despair that had been lurking close to the surface since he had woken washed over him like a wave.

“I’m sorry, but that’s a question you need to answer on your own.” As if seeing that her words had fallen like a bucket of ice water, the nurse reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against his shoulder. “It’s all right, Jack.” She said that a lot, but it didn’t even begin to fix things.

It most certainly was not all right, and he wanted to tell her so, but she was already clipping down the corridor towards a little group that seemed to have formed around some sort of nurses’ station. Jack didn’t move, torn between watching and returning to his bed for another little panic.

“What’s happening to me…”

The nurse didn’t move to interfere with the three-person meeting that was occurring in the circular main area that held her station, but her eyes were keen as she observed them from her surreptitious place behind the desk. She wrote quietly with a pen taken from deep within her pocket, seemingly distracted though watching carefully. She had strict instructions to follow, and countless observations to make. It had started.

Room 14.
0715

Kieko awoke in a strange white washed room. Her brown eyes immediately assessed her new surroundings. Small square room, corners taped off, small rectangular window: barred, off-white door with small viewing window etched inside it. She was in some sort of mental institution. Why she had no idea. Her long, black silk hair was let out and hung below her waist, and her slender frame was swamped in a scratchy, grey nightdress. They had even taken her underwear. Kieko's mind struggled to keep up with her fast pace thoughts. She took a deep breath, and attempted to calms herself.
Perhaps something had happened to her while she studied. Try as she might she couldn't think of what that could be. However she was obviously sane, so surely the people would fix the mistake. She decided to try the door. After all, what else was there to do? She waited for the soft click as the lock was engaged, yet it never came. Her slender eyebrows arched in surprise as her almond eyes peered out of her cell. Numerous nurses in white uniforms were hurrying to and fro in a white corridor. There were other doors almost identical to her own, except with different numerals. As her soft brown eyes took the whole thing in, she slowly moved forward, her small bare feet padding softly on the tiles. She re-arranged her long, straight hair to over her shoulder to make it more comfortable. She stroked it self consciously as she tried to get a grip on her reeling emotions.
The world was made up of pure white. The sky was burning clear lights, shining down on the narrow world below. People hurried about on their business. The floor appeared to be harsh and cold. The terrain was straight and flat, everything perfectly symmetrical.
Kieko's head reeled under the heavy lights and the blinding white of the corridor. Suddenly the bland colour was broken by a splash of grey. And then another grey cloak rushed into view.
What was going on?
This obviously wasn't a normal institution or she would still be locked in her room. It also could not have been a mistake her door was open as it appeared there were others like her that had found a way out of their rooms. Worried about whether or not these others were entirely sane, Kieko decided against talking to them for now.
Instead she looked quizzically at one of the nurses. She noted that none of them seemed bothered by her being out of her room and on the contrary seemed pleased. She watched as one of the other grey clad subjects attempted to ask questions.
“Why am I here?....But how did I get here?! .... What’s happening to me…”
All he resieved back was not helpful. Kieko highly doubted she would be much better off, however by the questions he asked he seemed like he would be more likely in his right mind. She made her way over to the guy, noting his long, almost auborn hair. His face told her that he was worried, though that came as no surprise, as she herself was not that much better.
When she finally reached him through the sea of bustling nurses, she was struck slightly shy. How exactly do you start a conversation in a situation like this? None the less, if she didn't, what else would she do. Figuring he was almost as confused as herself, Kieko decided against the obvious questions of what, why and then.
"Should we go and see if we can find answers?" she asked softly, a little self-conscious of the fact that suddenly she was forced into a rather awkward moment. "I mean, it doesn't seem as though you are getting answers from them."

Sarah glared at the nurses surrounding them. Usually she was shy or frightened, a situation like the one she was in should have had her almost comatose. Instead she was starting to get pissed. There were several other people with her now, all of them dressed in the same ugly grey pajamas that she was. They also all seemed as confused as to why they were here that she was.

"Should we go and see if we can find answers? . . . . I mean, it doesn't seem as though you are getting answers from them."

She smiled over at the girl who had spoke, then went back to glaring at the nurses station. There was one of the Stepford nurses that seemed to be happy that they were all out and talking, writing down something in a report on the clipboard in front of her.
"Good idea. Name's Sarah, by the way. And going to find answers might be a good idea. Except that someone here seems to know what's going on; so why not ask her?"

With that Sarah reached out with one arm, gathering the nearby shadows into a thick tentacle that reached out toward the oh so interesting clipboard. She really wanted to know what it was that Stepford there was writing about her.

It didn’t take Jack very long at all to realise that he was completely and utterly uncomfortable with this situation. ‘Wrong’ no longer quite covered it, but he couldn’t think of a strong enough adjective to attach to the festering feeling of ‘really not right’ that was swelling behind his eyes. The emotional response was almost enough to be classed as a physical sensation, some unwanted and untouchable pressure, and Jack winced at it as he lingered in his doorway.

He had almost made up his mind to go back inside when a youngish woman came up to him, making him pause. She was dressed as he was, which was a source of some awkwardness; a nurse, whether they be male or female, was a nurse, but this person could only be classed as a woman. Jack swallowed, suddenly not sure what to say. This wasn’t a dance partner, a co-worker or a member of staff but a living, breathing peer…

“Answers?” he repeated, wetting dry lips with his tongue. “Uh, yes, my friend, that would be very good, very good indeed.” Formality was a line of defence, and when stripped of his clothes and his memories, Jack leaned heavily upon it. “Do you suppose anyone knows what might be happening? I myself am terribly confused.”

In ballroom dance, the man took the lead; Jack stepped out into the corridor in an attempt to ease his nervousness, leading the young woman carefully towards the larger group of- inmates? Prisoners? Patients? -that had gathered near the nurses’ station. “My name is Jack, it’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.”

Manners cost nothing, and there was a lot to be said for hiding behind polite words in times of acute stress. Jack felt a little calmer already. Sadly, the feeling didn’t last, as all of a sudden one of his fellow ugly pyjama wearers did something… really not right.

“That’s-”

Jack blinked, hard, but the apparition did not go away. There was something very, very wrong here! Was he seeing things? Did he honestly belong behind bars, or was one of the group he had just walked up to really able to- do whatever she was doing with the darkness?

In the back of his mind, a memory tweaked, speaking of mutants and their presence in the world, but such things- they just weren’t true. Like aliens, it was a thing that some people believed, others tolerated, but the vast majority knew for a fact to be nonexistent. Jack knew that people with ‘magic’ powers hardwired into their DNA were not real, and yet here he was, seeing one!

Warily, he backed away a step. He really wasn’t sure how he felt about any of this. Could all of these people do such things? Could HE do such things?! Was that why they were all here?!

The nurse, meanwhile, looked up. Having heard the conversation she had paused in her writing in expectation of a question, and having been given a full handover, knew what her charges were capable of. Sarah’s impertinence was met by a stern glare, though the nurse made no attempt to snatch her documents back.

“Excuse me, Sarah,” she said, her voice polite but disapproving. “But those documents are confidential, and it is not acceptable for you to just take them. I’m sure this situation must be very confusing for you, and I understand, but we can talk about this. You do not have to resort to stealing.”

She smiled again, thinly. “Now, I am going to give you one chance to put the documents back as they were, without reading them. If you can do that, then there will be no consequences and I will not have to tell the doctor. However, if you decide to go against me, I’m afraid I will have to report this incident. I don’t want to, Sarah, so please put my papers back as they were.”



He was bored now. Agent Tori Sith was bored of staring at magnolia walls and waiting for something to happen. Nobody had arrived to knock on his door, and that was sad; he had so very much wanted someone to come, even if they were going to torture him for information. But there had been no knocking, no interest, nobody stirring nearby. They must all be sleeping, or going about their business, and Tori didn’t want to wait any longer.

He got out of bed with a sinful giggle; this was naughty, this was not what he should be doing, but that’s what made it fun. This wasn’t in the plan, he hadn’t prepared for wandering off, but there was no point in waiting if nobody was going to come and talk to him. If they weren’t going to catch him, then he could go out and play.

He didn’t poke his head out to have a look around. Instead, he shoved the door open and walked out as if he owned the place, grinning to himself. Frail, with impossibly dark skin and messy black hair that fell over his eyes, he stood out against white walls and white floors; made stark by bright, fluorescent lighting.

It was like being in a movie; he was a star. Tori waved at one of the hidden video cameras as he skipped away from his room. There were people outside, but they all looked very busy, very distracted, so he didn’t bother them. Instead, he headed off down the hall towards the main block.

Room 7
0715

Aveline awoke slowly and immediately jumped out of the bed, looking around for any signs of trouble. She giggled and tapped on the wall, pressing her ear against it and listening. She liked listening to the walls, it was quite fun. Sometimes you heard things you weren't supposed to, or sometimes you could dig a hole and peek through. Either way, she loved peeking into different peoples' lives.

She moved away from the wall and tilted her head a bit, curious as to where she was. She looked down at her drab hospital clothes. Aww, she was just in the asylum wasn't she? She was hoping her therapist wouldn't bring her here, but maybe it was for the best. The teal haired girl laughed a bit, then let out a scream as loud as she could. Screaming was just as fun as listening and talking to walls. It just depending on what mood the crazy girl was in.

"X!" she yelled then, looking around her room as if they were playing hide and seek. "X! Come out, come out, wherever you are!" Aveline looked around her room for a total of three seconds, then opened the door to her room and rushed out.

The first thing she heard were voices, and she rushed towards them. She found an interesting looking group surrounding the center of the complex. She twisted her head as far as it could reach, eying up each of her new friends. Well, there were two girls and three boys it seemed-who also looked like girls as far as she was concerned. She walked up to the lanky one who stood off to the side, who towered above her small stature. He was one of the guys that looked like a girl to her. Or maybe it was just her meds acting up again. Did the nurses know that she needed meds? Most likely.

"Mi-sss," she said softly, reaching up to pinch his throat. She always loved playing with people's throats. And sometimes she pretended to rip them out, like the movies. But Mommy, Daddy, and X said that wasn't good, so she kept her strange fantasies to herself. She poked his throat a few times before speaking again. "Have you seen a half-demon boy with long black hair running around here? Sometimes he tries to kill me, but I know he loves me. Why are you here?" She started to examining his chin, oblivious to any sort of annoyance she might be causing

Room 4
0717

Xavier looked around the room, sure that this had to be a trick. He'd played tricks before, but this really was truly elaborate. And it was not just a simple image projected onto his mind, but something tangible. He looked at the bed, rather familiar actually. Ah yes, the hospital bed he'd been in when he had broken his arm. Yes, surely this was a hospital of sorts. But why was he here? He wasn't crazy like Aveline, though she had gone crazy because of him. He hadn't broken another limb and there was no possible way anybody but his twin knew about his abilities.

Frustrated, he pounded on the door, then realized something. It wasn't locked. Feeling stupid, he pounded on it harder and tried to refrain from screaming his brains out. He managed to dampen the sound a bit by shoving his fist in his mouth. It was then that he had another realization- he was standing around here like an idiot when he could be demanding an explanation. He stormed out of the room, looking around for any official to question.

He didn't see anybody or anything special other than a bathroom. Well, at least he knew where that was now. Xavier turned at the sound of voices and cringed. As much as he wanted to know what was happening, he wanted more to remain anonymous and invisible. It was how he preferred things.

He listened carefully, hardly breathing as he heard a familiar female voice. Was that, could it be, Aveline? "Oh no," he mumbled to himself, racing down the hall in time to find her assaulting a tall boy's face. "Av," he hissed, ignoring the others. He wasn't one for friends, especially not if they were all insane like his poor sister. One crazy person was hard enough to keep track of. He didn't want one of these people stabbing him when they got the chance. He preferred being healthy and alive to being sickly and dead.

Room 3.
0715

The uncomfortableness searing through the tiny body of Karissa had woken her from what should have been a restful nights sleep. Though awake, however, she kept her eyes closed, knowing something was different, but didn't actually want to see what was so strange. She could see underneath her dark eyelids that, wherever she was, it was bright. And white. How strange. What happened to the dark confines of her former room, with the blacks and the dark blues? Why was everything so bright? And how was she not in pain?

Keeping her eyes closed, Karissa let her hands gingerly feel what her body had been resting on. It wasn't her own bed, that's for sure. And it barely fit her body. How was that possible? She was only... Well, she didn't know how tall she was. All she knew was that she was short... The feel of the hospital like bed underneath her palms made her eyes snap open, only to snap close by the sheer brightness of the room she was laden in. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the white, bare walls.

She sat up slowly, resting herself on her elbows, and her pale blue eyes darted about the room. Everything was just so... plain and so... unlike her. Karissa wanted desperately to go back to her dark room, where everything always seemed to feel as good as they could, even though her own mind couldn't fix itself. She noted the bars on the window, the lack of furniture, and the window in the door. Why was everything like this? Where in God's name was she?

She then sat up, noticing that gray garments that she was fitted in. What happened to her black...? What had she been wearing when she came here? She couldn't remember, but that could have been from her most recent blackout from her most recent attempt to end her sorry life. And that was when she noticed that she really wasn't in pain. Even her deepest gashes had been somehow healed. But where was the pain? All she wanted was the pain back, just so she could know the state of her own mind.

At least the gray was close enough to the black that she always wore that she was somewhat okay with the garments, although she wasn't comfortable with the fact that she could tell that she was no longer wearing underwear. How uncomfortable...

But she finally stood from the bed, allowing her tiny body to stretch its muscles. She walked over to the door and stood on her toes, attempting to look out of the window. Why must I be so short? she asked herself as she lowered herself back to the cold, unnaturally white floor. Her hand hit the doorknob, and she turned it, surprised with the fact that it actually turned on command.

Karissa stepped out and looked around once again, noticing the nurses casually smiling at others who had opened their doors along with her. They did the same to her, and she couldn't help but put the coldest look on her face she possibly could. She could see that there were others dressed in the same ugly, prison-like grays that she was in, and could hear them talking. But she ignored them. To her, they were just mumbles as she began to aimlessly wander around the white corridor, her brain trying to remember how she had gotten to this wretched place. And where was her family? Where was her brother?

She ended up stopping next to the slowly forming group of people, her mind still wracking up what was happening to her. Her issues were still there, and she could feel the need to harm herself showing up. But that was probably because she was nervous, scared, didn't know anyone at all, and hadn't actually hurt herself in a while.

So she crossed one arm over her chest as her hand grabbed her other arm, keeping herself in a closed off position. She sat on the floor randomly, and sudden burst into tears, still not listening to what the other gray clad people and nurses had to say. All she wanted was to go home to her seemingly shitty life and leave this place behind.

Sarah smiled thinly back at Stepford. "Well, Ma'am, this situation is very confusing. It's apparently confusing to every single one of us in these ugly pajamas, given that nobody seems to know what's going on or why they're here. If this doctor of yours can explain any of this, I'd love to talk to him." She noticed that she seemed to be freaking out one or two of the other inmates standing around, so she released her hold on the shadows and let them flow back to their original shape, leaving the clipboard in her hands. Not wanting to push things any further than she had to, she held it upside down so that she very obviously couldn't see what was on it, while at the same time maintaining a firm grip. She turned around to the other people in grey pajamas.
"Any of you, do any of you know why your here? Or where here is?" She turned back around and spoke as calmly as she could. "With all due respect, you'll get your papers back when we start getting some answers."

West Wing corridor.
0720.

Respect. Somebody was speaking about respect, but Jack was having a hard time focussing on their words given that there was some strange, clearly disturbed little woman grabbing for his neck and calling him ‘miss’. Oh, God, he really had ended up in a mad house this time! All of these people were insane!

He made a harsh, gagging sound in his throat as questing fingers prodded at the cartilage there, coughing dryly as he stood up on his tiptoes to avoid her. If there was one benefit of being very, very tall, it was being able to elevate himself above the reach of the vertically challenged.

“Can you not do that please?” Jack coughed again, rubbing self-consciously at his neck and checking for damage. He didn’t actually find any, but it felt as if there was something stuck in his throat. Probably psychosomatic, he told himself. You have gone mad, after all.

Almost as soon as he had spoken, a young man arrived who was apparently familiar with Jack’s attacker; the tone of exasperated recognition, and the use of a name, were rather telling. Some of these people knew each other. Was it possible that they had all been here for some time? The confusion would suggest not, but insanity was a curious business, as far as Jack knew. Maybe they had all forgotten, just like he had.

“Ah, I think it’s safe to assume that we’re here for a reason… likely our own-” Jack broke off as a girl, who had arrived without him really noticing, burst into tears on the floor beside him, and in so doing confirmed his worst fears about where he was and why he was there.

Carefully, he knelt, folding himself down as far as he could beside her. “Please don’t cry.” His words were rather redundant, but what else could he really say to someone who was sat on the floor sobbing like the world was ending. “I’m sure we can fix it.”

He didn’t know if they could, but the staff sounded like they knew what they were doing, even if they didn’t want to give answers. Beseechingly, he stared up at the nurse, hoping that she would sort this all out for them.

The nurse, despite being decidedly outnumbered now, did not seem flustered in the least, aware that her colleagues were close at hand and that the situation was being constantly monitored. “Thank you, Sarah, for listening to me. Now, I’d like you to put the clip board back down on the desk for me, please. You don’t need to steal to get the doctor’s attention; you can ask to see him whenever you like. He’s happy to oblige.”

That said, she stepped out from behind the desk. “Now, Aveline, you know not to touch someone without asking for their permission. We’ve been over this; it isn’t nice, and Jack clearly doesn’t like it. Now, I want all of you to go along to breakfast. Sarah, if you go back to your room, the doctor will see you shortly.”

The nurse stood beside Jack and Karissa, but did not risk bending down to assist them when there were so many agitated people surrounding her. Instead, she gestured to a male nurse, who was waiting in the mouth of the hallway that lead to the main block. “Please follow Sam, he will escort you to the dining hall for breakfast. There will be question and answer time after everyone’s eaten and had a wash.”

Control Room.
0730.

From his palace of monitors, he saw all. The Instigator watched with rapturous interest as a gathering began, little figures zipping out of their rooms on fast-forward, making connections, making friends, making war. Already, they were beginning to rebel; an outspoken little leader had been found, one that ruled with fear, but also with determination. Was she selfish, he wondered. He thought she might just be, but it would need closer examination to become fact.

He watched his nurses do their good work, their vocation mixed with a honed poker face to make an indomitable army, all at his beck and call. It was a glorious thing, this game of his, and it had only just begun. There were still bodies quietly sleeping in their rooms, still so many tasks to complete. It was unlimited, their destiny; there were so many places his little group of fools could reach, if only they learned how.

He slowed the feed when true words were spoken, his interest keen as he listened. Oh, there was talk of the doctor already? How fascinating. How very fascinating indeed. He would have to find the doctor for them… and then the games could begin.

West Wing Corridor
0720

The words of her fellows were drowned out by her sobs, and she completely ignored the fact that there was a girl shifting shadows with her own mind. Since Karissa already deemed somewhat insane from her home and her family, who now wanted nothing to do with her, everything that she was now seeing just made her believe her own insanity.

But the touch of one of strange new people on her back caused her to stop for a moment, and look back up at him. This was new to her, people touching her, letting her know that things were going to be okay. Her parents hardly ever did that to her. Even her friends at her college didn't, especially when she was at her worst. No one ever knew how to deal with her, and the fact that someone was trying to comfort her was the least bit comforting. At least he seemed just as lost and confused as he was.

She nodded at him, wiping her eyes and nose on her sleeve, leaving a line of clear goo against the gray stripes. "Thanks?" Karissa finally managed to speak and leaned into him. Maybe it was comforting to have someone there to make her feel better. But she wasn't sure if she liked it.

She then looked up at the nurse, giving a cold glare to the annoying cheerful woman. Being this happy and this calm when clearly there was something strange happening was even worse. But she stood, her body still somewhat shaking from her previous sobs. She let Jack help her up, and stayed close to him. Of course, Karissa wasn't sure if he would allow her to remain close to her, but she needed something. Anything. Right now, he was the only person of this new group of rebels that payed any attention to her. So, for now, she was going to stick by him as much as she could.

"I don't want to eat," she told the nurse simply, wanting badly to stab the nurse in the eye. There was no reason for such cheerfulness when it was clear Karissa, or the group, weren't going to get the answers they wanted.

She looked up at Jack, mouthing a small thank you, and waited for this so-called Sam to arrive. Sighing, Karissa wrapped her arm around Jack as best as she could, and buried her face farther into his chest, fighting the controllable urge to burst into tears again.

A soft, male voice stood out in the quiet halls. Devan turned to spot a rather effeminate boy with incredibly long, dark red hair down the hall, urgently questioning the nurses. He enters the lobby with everyone else and converses with the dark-haired girl. It's quiet enough that from his distance Devan can hear the two introduce themselves: Sarah and Jack. His brow furrowed as it occurred to him he had no way of introducing himself, having been stripped of his student ID - that was how he always showed people his name. Well, it wasn't that important anyway. It wasn't as if he planned on making friends.

A small girl also approached the two tentatively, her voice too quiet for him to overhear. She was of Japanese descent. Not all Americans could tell the difference between Asian ethnicities, but Devan could considering his family was Japanese.

His eyes narrowed when we watched Sarah seem to draw shadows to her hand. The girl reached her hand toward the nurses' desk, the shadows she had accumulated then stretching into a thick tendril that snatched a clipboard right out of the nurse's hand. Devan couldn't help but step back, even at the distance he already was. What the hell was that? Was that girl some kind of demon? Jack appeared just as startled, but the nurse, however, only looked up coolly and appeared to scold Sarah.

Devan was then distracted by a flicker of movement in the other hallway. He glimpsed a dark-skinned man moving off with a strange grin plastered over his face. Devan stared after him and considered following but jumped when something suddenly prodded him right in the adam's apple. He looked down to see a girl with greenish hair peering up at him. She was rambling about a half-demon boy or something; this place was certainly starting to look more like a mental hospital than a detention center. He flinched when she poked at his throat again. A faintly troubled look came into his features, and he suddenly grabbed the girl roughly by the wrist with the speed of a striking snake, giving her a hard shove backwards and simultaneously tottering away from her. Devan lacked such thing as a personal space bubble and normally did not mind being touched by strangers, but certain things were off-limits - those being his crotch, hands, and throat. His crotch was a given. It just irked him to have his hands touched; it was not something he was accustomed to. And his throat he didn't like touched because his father used to grab it to choke him or push him around.

A scrawny boy just a little taller than Devan stepped in behind the girl, murmuring something. The wild-haired youth gazed darkly at the both of them before finally slinking closer to the group in the lobby, which had now been joined by a frail-looking girl who had slumped to the floor and started crying. She looked pathetic. Devan wanted to walk over and kick her. But he still kept his distance, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms to watch everyone in silence. For all he knew everyone here was as batshit as that teal-haired girl, or otherwise a freak like Sarah.


~


Matt watched gray-clothed person after gray-clothed person trail toward or into the lobby, though he was wary of taking his eyes off the scarecrow boy for too long. He studied the redhead who introduced himself as Jack, his lips twitching into a faint smile at the boy's charming language. Matt was fond of fancy things, and Jack's overtly polite dialogue labeled him in Matt's mind as a 'fancy thing'. He shuffled over to the other boy to stand beside him. Matt smiled softly up at Jack, who towered over him. "... I'm-" He peered at Sarah then as she displayed some kind of shadow manipulation, but he did not appear particularly startled and did not recoil like Jack did. "... Matt." He finished as Sarah's black appendage grasped the nurse's clipboard. He frowned after the nurse finished chiding her against stealing. ".... I think you should put it back," he said quietly. This place felt eerie. Regardless of if it was a mental health facility or not, he could tell it would be a bad idea to disobey the staff.

When he glanced over to check on the scarecrow boy, he had moved closer. Matt felt his hair stand on end; had he been in canine form, his fur would have bristled. Two others had appeared from the same hallway - brother and sister, he could tell by the combination of their scent and appearance. Looking to his other side, a light-haired girl had sat down on the floor and was crying. Matt stared at her a couple minutes, his face blank. He didn't like seeing people cry. Normally he would shift and soothe them as a dog - people were easily soothed by dogs, he had learned. But he was wary of shifting in front of all these strangers. Sarah had revealed herself to be out of the ordinary, but he wasn't sure how everyone else was going to take even that much yet...

West Wing Corridor
0725

Aveline frowned, stepping away from Jack. "Sensitive, are we?" she asked, giving a classic Cheshire grin. Oh, how she loved the Cheshire cat! The lovely grin, and a grin without a cat. Oh, wouldn't it be lovely to be able to disappear at will? Forgetting that, she stepped to the second nearest person and repeated her speech. She yelped as this boy reacted more violently than the last. She was shoved back and nearly fell on the crying girl. She glared at both of the boy-girls, growling a bit. These people were too emotional, no wonder they were here.

"X!" she yelled again, and was greeted by her brother's hands around her throat. "H-ey, X. C-an yo-u l-et g-o?" she choked out, then was happy to see that he listened to her. She gave him a quick hug and ignored the nurse. She could touch whoever she wanted. What the heck was wrong with poking people's throats? It wasn't like she had a knife in her hand or anything! "Is the food here good? And who gave you permission to bring us here?" she asked the nurse, then found that she no longer cared to hear the answer.

She looked back at Devan, then at Jack. "I don't like you," she said plainly, then pointed at Devan. "I especially don't like you. I'm not crazy. You are." Aveline stepped towards him again, not caring if she got beat up. Xavier would protect her, or the nurse would take crazy boy away. "I am not crazy! You are, you are, you are!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, poking him in the throat again. Only this time, it was more forceful, as if she could puncture his skin and maybe rip his neck off. It would be an interesting sight, but then the big, bad wolf would come and eat her. Or Devan would.

***

Xavier sighed and let his sister go, turning his attention to the others. There would come a day when he couldn't protect his sister anymore and he'd have to surrender her to a strait jacket and padded cell. He looked down at Karissa who had started to cry for no apparent reason. Maybe she was mentally disturbed like his twin. He sighed again and looked at Jack, who was comforting her. And then the nurse was offering food. He liked food.

But he didn't want to show any sense of uniformity here. He wanted out. Now. He turned, intent on going back to his room, when he heard Aveline shouting at the tall boy with crazy hair. "Aveline!" he yelled, though it was to no avail. He groaned and did his best to ignore her, covering his ears and looking at the others.

Well, things were certainly off to a good start. Now seemed like a good time to explore. Xavier walked off down the a random corridor, ready for an adventure or to be hit over the head with a wooden plank like in the cartoons. He walked quietly, trying to think of how to get himself out of this. He could always project the image of himself sleeping to the nurses as he tried to find the door out, but that would be a complicated matter. It would drain his energy rapidly to create so many images in multiple minds, especially that of humans.

Sarah looked around at all the people surrounding the nurses station. While a few of them looked as if they might actually belong here, not all of them did and those few looked to be as confused as she was. It was when the person standing next to her, Matt spoke up that she realized that she had to make the choice to either keep bucking the system or play along until she knew what was going on. But at the same time, she really thought it was a bad idea for anybody to be on their own right now. It was when one of the other girls said that she didn't want to eat that she got a small idea.

"If you don't want to eat, you're welcome to come along and meet the doctor with me." She turned slightly and addressed the entire group. She met the eyes of each person that she could, letting them know that they were included in the invitation. "I'm in room 5, if anybody wants to come along and meet the man behind the curtain."

She placed the clipboard back on the table in the normal fashion, then started down the hall back to her room. "Anybody coming with?"

The long haired boy answered with overly polite replies, and lead her over to the others. Kieko felt herself tense up, worried about how she would cope if the others appeared to be insane. She relaxed as a girl with dark hair like herself looked over to her.
"Good idea. Name's Sarah, by the way. And going to find answers might be a good idea. Except that someone here seems to know what's going on; so why not ask her?"
Kieko found herself smiling at Sarah. So it seemed there were sane people here, just no answers. Just as she was thinking that, the smile fell from her face. The shadows around moved to do Sarah's bidding. Kieko's face tensed up, her mouth in a hard line. Using darkness and demonic powers were completely agains what she stood for, and although she would stay silent about it, she would also not put up with it. She started to back away slightly, her eyes hard and cold, when a turquoise haired girl rushed forward and started prodding a boys throat. This was the last straw, obviously not everyone was sane. She gave an uneasy glance to the overly polite boy as she contemplated whether or not he too was strange.
That was when she froze.
"Have you seen a half-demon boy…"
Kieko recoiled in horror. She was neither comfortable with the supernatural nor even slightly tolerant. Her obvious displeasure showed as a dark boy came to talk to the insane one. She did not mean just his hair colour. The whole atmosphere around him was dark.
Kieko found herself stepping back a few paces in an attempt to keep distant with these demonic and insane people. Just as she was thinking this another girl arrived and broke into histerical sobs. Everything seemed to be happening at once as the red-head knelt down to comfort her and the blue haired girl poked another boys neck. This one reacted rather violently, though Kieko was unsure of whether this was natural or he was just concerned.
Another boy appeared, he identified himself.
"... I'm... Matt..... I think you should put it back," He said this to Sarah and Kieko was in full agreement if he was referring to the shadows, though putting the clip board back also seemed a good idea.
The demonic boy stalked off on his own, and then Sarah asked if anyone wished to join her to meet the doctor. Kieko's curiosity was aroused, and she was tempted to stay back, but her distaste for Sarah's powers held her back. Instead she waited to go and eat, thought she doubted she would actually touch the food. In a place like this, who knows what they did to the meals.

West Wing Corridor.
0727.

A substantial part of Jack was just about ready to curl up and die at the sheer insanity of the situation, but first and foremost he was a gentleman and a decent human being, so when a woman was in need of his- support? -assistance? -he was not about to let his desire to slink away and scream get the better of him.

As gently as he could, he put an arm around the young woman’s shoulder. She was smaller than him, considerably so, but she fit nicely under his arm in a way that he hoped she found comforting. “It’s okay, we’ll work out what’s going on here. It’ll get better. It looks like there are people here to help us, and we can help each other. We’ll make it right, no matter what.”

It was a lot to promise her, but Jack honestly believed that everything could become bearable, even if it couldn’t be fixed. A few years ago, sitting in a neurology suite with his head shaved and stuck all over with sensors, he had been certain that the world had ended, but now, even though the tests showed as many inconclusive answers as they did back then, he was a happy, healthy independent person. He and his brother lived together out of choice, rather than necessity, and that, if anything, had ingrained in Jack what could be achieved through persistence and hard work.

“No matter what happens, we’re in this together,” he whispered, wary eyes on the nurse, but she seemed to be distracted by things elsewhere. Instead, he turned to face the one called Sam. “I think it’s time we went to breakfast, even if you don’t want anything right now. There will be somewhere for us to sit, and I can get you a drink of something, even if you’re not hungry right now.” There was nothing patronising in his words, just a slow, steady calm that he didn’t quite feel inside.

Very slowly, he began to coax her over towards Sam, who was waiting to take them somewhere new.

The nurse, meanwhile, was keeping a razor sharp eye on everything that was unfolding, her calm as resolute but less forced than Jack’s; she was in control here, and that was not something she would willingly relinquish.

“Jack and Karissa, that’s the right idea. Head on over to Sam and get yourselves something to eat.” she instructed, working on getting some of the less volatile personalities present out of the way, so that there was less to deal with when calming those who were more erratic or explosive.

“Devan,” she went on. “There are better ways to deal with conflict than to be violent, but Aveline, we’ve just spoken about this. If you do not stop, and I mean now, then there will be consequences.” She had already raised a hand to attract the attention of three sturdy looking staff members, who were converging on what looked like a brewing fight between Devan and Aveline. If the situation escalated, then they were more than ready to step in and subdue.

She looked over at Matt next, half of her attention still on the possibly source of conflict. “Matt, thank you for being sensible about this. It’s okay to follow Xavier and go and get some breakfast; we can handle things here. Go over to Sam; he’ll show you the way.”

Then she smiled; Sarah had put the clipboard back down again. “Thank you, Sarah. If you like, you can take someone else with you to see the doctor; whatever makes you feel most comfortable. We can get you something to eat later on, so there’s no need to worry about missing your breakfast. Keiko; do you want to stay with Sarah, or go and get something to eat with the others?”

West Wing Corridor
0727

The tears finally slowed to a stop, leaving behind salty stains on Karissa's pale cheeks. Though the boy comforting her was much taller than her, she actually felt comfortable, that she could trust him. That was an unusual feeling for her, trust, seeing as she no longer trust a single soul, not after what happened. Especially since her parents did nothing to stop her from coming to this wretched place, keeping her locked up and stuck with crazies. Well, some crazies, some sane, and some all around supernatural. But maybe the supernatural was all part of her slowly weakening mind.

She nodded into Jack's chest, letting him lead her to this "Sam." When they both stopped, she lifted her head from his chest and looked around at her surroundings, mostly at the people that resided there, there nurses and everyone else wearing the ugly grays that she was. There were so many people, so many names to try to remember. She couldn't even keep track of who was who, except for Jack. That name she would remember for as long as she could. After all, he was the only one who even attempted to comfort her.

"I hope you're right," Karissa finally spoke and looked up at him. To her, he was a somewhat handsome man, and he clearly had no idea, with the rest of this gathering, that he had no idea what was going on. The last thing she remembered was nearly bleeding to death. How was it that the wound had mysteriously healed, along with all other wounds on her skin, and no longer had any scars? Her scars made her, shaped her, and she wanted them back. Oh, she would find a way to get those back.

"Well, as long as someone else is willing to help me," she told him as she tucked her head back into his chest and closed her eyes hard. "No one else really seems to give a shit about me, except for these insanely and grossly cheerful 'nurses.' Maybe once I get in there, I'll be hungry, but I'm not right now. I don't even know if I want to drink something." She paused and looked around, seeing who else would care to join them. She hoped no one. Her mouth opened to speak, but she closed it rather quickly, deciding that no one should hear her next thoughts. There's something else I want, and it better be waiting for me.

Devan did his best to keep track of everyone present, but between the patients and the nurses it proved difficult. He heard more of the teal-haired girl's shouting; she called her brother X. But after that he started to tune her out... Until she approached him a second time.
"Aveline!" Her brother called after her. Devan tilted his head back to slowly look over at the girl with an impatient gaze, his tongue sweeping over his teeth behind his lips in a further gesture of impatience.
"I am not crazy!" It was almost as if she could read his mind. Just the notion made him roll his eyes. Even if there was anyone capable, no one would want to read his mind. Aveline raised her voice to continue her point, and, apparently not having learned from her first experience, began jabbing at his throat again with her finger. Devan stood from leaning against the wall and backed up. The teal-haired girl followed after him in a frenzy of poking and screaming. His dark eyes skimmed over the others and the nearby nurses to assess where their attention was. The girl's brother had given up and moved off. Any potential threats appeared less than immediate - and Devan wasn't scared of discipline. He had been dealt it all his life.
"Devan, there are better ways to deal with conflict than to be violent," chided the nurse behind the counter.

The wild-haired youth suddenly whipped a punch right for Aveline's face, utilizing the same lightning speed he had grabbed her wrist with the first time. Devan did not discriminate and did not hold back; Aveline's gender, size, age, nor mental stability made any difference to him. Though his muscle appeared far from formidable, Devan was still a fit 18-year-old male and adrenaline was always at his disposal to give his strength a boost. If he could beat peers and thugs over twice his size bruised and bloody, a small, teal-haired girl would easily be knocked over if not unconscious by a such a close-range hit from him.

Devan's initial impulse, in fact, had been to go for her throat, but he was wary of getting carried away. Beating someone senseless was one thing, killing them was another, and while he didn't know the rules nor the consequences here he would remain cautious of crossing that line.


~


Sarah invited them all to meet the doctor with her, then returning the clipboard to the counter. The idea of meeting any doctor was not appealing to Matt, while on the other hand breakfast certainly was. He wondered what time it must have been to designate breakfast... He felt quite well-rested, but normally Matt was not a morning person. His appetite was stirring at the idea of food, though. He saw the tiny, quiet girl move to wait by the nurse Sam as directed. Jack and Karissa, the crying girl, also appeared to decide on breakfast.
"Matt, thank you for being sensible about this." The nurse said, smiling. Matt somewhat reflexively offered a timid smile in return; were he in canine form, his tail might have even given a small wag. He couldn't help but enjoy praise. He, too, shuffled closer to Sam to await being lead to the dining room. Sarah looked to be on her own in seeing the doctor so far.

Hearing more shouting from the teal-haired girl, he glanced over but visibly flinched and turned away upon glimpsing Devan, as the nurse had called him, throw a punch at the uproarious girl. Clearly he had been right in categorizing the wild-haired youth as dangerous, and made further mental note to avoid him.

Intervention: West Wing Corridor.
0729.

The nurses, who had been watching carefully up until the moment things escalated into true violence, leapt into action with the precision of long training. Three men and two women, all suddenly emotionless and firm, ploughed into the fray without so much as batting an eyelid, flying towards Devan and Aveline as a seamless unit.

Two men and a woman launched themselves at Devan in an attempt to get him into a restraining hold, while the remaining two focussed their attention upon Aveline. The worked well as a team, and clearly knew what they were doing; there was not a word spoken between them as they acted, rather than discussed a course of action.

Meanwhile, ‘Stepford’ got herself out of the way of the mobilizing party, and addressed the remaining inmates in a firm voice. “I would like everyone to clear the area please; those who are going with Sam please go to him now, those who are seeing the doctor, go back to your rooms. I don’t want anyone getting involved in this fight; even if you think you can help, you need to leave it to the professionals. We know what we’re doing, and we’ve been trained to deal with these situations. There’s no need for anyone else to get hurt here.”

Her attention was on her patients, but she was wary enough to keep half an eye on the attempted restraint that was in progress. “I want to make it perfectly clear to all of you that this sort of behaviour is totally unacceptable here. Provoking a fight will be punished as severely as physically starting one; we will not tolerate any form of violence in this institution.”

‘Stepford’ carefully inserted herself between what was going on and those that remained. “Rest assured that this will be dealt with swiftly and completely.”

West Wind Corridor
0730

Hearing the hustle and bustle of the confrontation turned violent made Karissa look up and stare. Her eyes were wide with astonishment and surprised. The nurses moved with such speed. How was that possible? It's like they're vampires, she had thought to herself as she tucked her head back into Jack's chest. No human could possibly move that fast... Could they?

But she still managed to listen to whatever else she could pay attention to, and, on cue, Karissa pushed Jack closer to Sam, trying to tell her protector that she wanted him to move and pull her along. She wanted to get away from the violence; she hated seeing other people be violent. She hadn't been around that in her life, ever, so it frightened her to see people physically harm another. "Can we go please?" Karissa begged, her voice rough, possibly from the crying. "Please?"

She looked back up at Jack once again, desperation reeling from her eyes. She couldn't tell what he was doing. Why was he just standing there? If he didn't move soon, she was going to run back to her room and curl up into a pointless ball, and cry herself to sleep. "Jack?"

Sarah backed up away from the fight. Much as her skill with manipulating shadows came in handy, she'd never really used them in a fight and she wasn't ready to start practicing right now. Besides, those two looked nuts enough, she didn't want to get between then and the crew of people who were wrestling them into submission.

She turned and started walking back to her room, hopefully the doctor that the nurse had mentioned would be able to explain just what the hell was going on here. She didn't feel crazy, not that most nut cases did; but she was almost certain that she would have remembered being committed in the first place. Plus, when she had used the shadows to grab the clipboard, the nurse hadn't reacted at all. Which meant that they knew about what she could do, and presumably what other people could do. Was it possible that she was here not as a patient but as someone that they wanted to manipulate into working for them? It was an unfortunate possibility, one that she would have to be alert for in order to work against it.

She was mulling all of this over when she noticed that one of the other grey suited inmates had followed her; a shorter, thin girl who looked to be about half Oriental of some kind. For whatever reason, she didn't look very happy to be walking along with her, but Sarah just figured that she wanted to see the doctor the same that she did, so the other woman took her up on the offer to come along. Truthfully, she was a bit grateful for the company, not knowing what was going on meant that she really didn't want to be alone anymore than she could help.

"So, you got any clue as to what's going on? And do you mind if I ask your name?" Turning, she half smiled over at the other woman, pulling her hair over one shoulder. She didn't really wait for a response, just sort of ambling along and trying to ignore the sounds of the scuffle behind them. They reached room 5 and Sarah opened the door and gestured inside.
"Home sweet home, I suppose."

West Wing Corridor
0729

Aveline stumbled backwards as Devan's fist connected with her face. She frowned and was about to punch him back when the two helpers rushed forward and grabbed her. She instantly went limp in their arms, not bothering to put up a fight. She tried to see if her nose had fallen off, but it was hard considering she couldn't really see it. Either way, she would be in pain for a bit. She looked at Devan, curious to see how he would react to being restrained. She smiled and looked up at the ceiling, looking at the lights.

"The itsy bitsy psycho went to the hosp-i-tal, in came the girl and poked the psycho's throat, here comes the guards ta hang us by our necks, the psycho and the girl, go off to asylum prison!" she sang happily, though she removed to move any part of her body other than her head. Maybe if she sang another nursery rhyme, and clicked her bare heels together and said, 'there's no place like home', she'd be able to get out of this mess. But of course, life was never that easy. It never had been and never would be, especially not here and now. "The itsy bitsy rebel went to her room, in came the doctor and beat her to the ground, now be time for a funeral, there ain't no tears today!" Aveline laughed hysterically, letting herself be dragged wherever. as she continued to look at the lights.

***

Xavier covered his ears. He couldn't bear to hear his sister prattling on about nothing. He closed eyes and found himself walking into a wall, causing a near explosion as he bit his tongue to keep from yelling at it. He didn't need anybody to drag him off or call him crazy for talking to inanimate objects. "I hate this," he mumbled, looking around and realizing he was actually lost.

Mumbling to himself, he turned around and tried to find his way back to his room with little success. He spotted Sarah, with a couple of followers walking down the hall. He followed them and found that the rebel of the group had room number five. One number greater than his own, but still in a different area. Maybe four was a special number here, or the doc liked symmetry and balance. Xavier himself couldn't argue with the beauty of those things. Simple stuff was what he liked really, despite the complicated ability he had.

Without truly being invited in, the boy with long dark hair pushed past the others and entered the room. "Mind if I stay?" he asked Sarah, looking at her briefly before leaning against a wall and looking at the others. If he had to pick a group to be with, it would be the sane ones who wouldn't waste time.

Kieko was nervous about the fight, and then the long haired boy and the crying one started down to the breakfast hall. She hadn't seen the demon boy for a while, and realizing he would probably end up joining the breakfast group if the white coats had anything to do with it, she immediately went to the next best option. Sarah.
The problem was, Kieko quite liked Sarah's easy going personality, however she was worried the moving of shadows required the spiritual element. Kieko had a deep set hate for all spiritual and supernatural areas, her mother was superstitious, though Kieko herself never quite followed it. None the less, the dark spiritual side of the world scared her and kept her at bay.
"So, you got any clue as to what's going on? And do you mind if I ask your name?"
Kieko started slightly.
"No" she said slowly, a little tentative "My name's Kieko"
She slowly entered cell five.
"Home sweet home, I suppose."
Kieko couldn't help smiling slightly, she certainly didn't seem to be demonic. Perhaps it was simply one of those weird powers that popped up, that didn't require spirits, but was part of a natural thing. The demon boy however seemed a different story.
Then the door opened.
"Mind if I stay?"
Kieko re-coiled in horror, as the very person she did not want to see entered the room. She immediately hid her anger and shock behind a wall of indifference. If he truly was demonic, she did not want to anger him. If he truly was....
Kieko thought about it a little harder. Perhaps the crazy turquoise girl had been lying, after all she was partially insane. Yes, perhaps her new surroundings had got to her.
None the less, the whole demeaner about the male wouldn't let the thoughts out of Kieko's mind.

West Wing Corridor.
0729.

Jack had never been so horrified in his life. The people in this place were not only insane, but blatantly out of control as well. The woman with the green hair had been bad enough, screaming and showing no respect for personal space, but the boy- Jack didn’t know what the lad had been taught by this parents, if he even had any, but the idea of hitting a woman no matter the provocation was totally repugnant to him. Both in dance and at home, Jack had been instructed on proper behaviour, so much so that the idea of using his size and strength against someone was little more than a distant pinprick on his moral horizon.

Vinny, of course, had grown out of his respectful stage and moved right onto obnoxious, but the lessons had always stuck with Jack. He never physically stopped his twin doing what he wanted, but Jack was more than willing to disapprove when Vinny came home with a black eye and an overlarge grin.

“We’ll be all right, miss,” he told Karissa, steering her closer to this Sam person. “If we stick together and don’t do-” he gestured back towards Devan. “-that, then we should be fine. Some breakfast, and then we’ll see if we can’t sort this whole mess out.”

He glanced back, seeing pandemonium, before shaking his head. “I really don’t with that sort of behaviour at all, so you will certainly not be seeing any such treatment from me.” Even if he was mad, Jack knew himself well enough to speak the truth; nothing in the world would turn him into that sort of man.

Carefully, he looked at the people who had broken off to go to breakfast along with him, and offered them a sweeping smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” he reiterated, hoping to smooth the way to better conversation in time.

West Wing Corridor/Dining Room.
0735-0745.

Once everyone had gathered, Sam, who seemed to be unconcerned with the fighting, nodded his head and gestured along the corridor. “Come with me please; I will show you to breakfast.” He then turned, moving along towards the main block. “Once we arrive, I would like you all to take a seat; your meals and medication will be brought to you. Just to make sure you all know, violent behaviour is not permitted anywhere here, so please show your fellows the respect they deserve.”

That said, he escorted them carefully towards the main building, scanning himself through several sets of double doors before throwing open the entrance to the dining hall. The room revealed was painted in a washed out yellow and hosted a series of bolted down picnic benches and a manned nurses’ station. “You can sit where you like. Go ahead and find somewhere.”

When he was certain that everyone was inside, Sam scan-locked the door and made his way over to the nurses’ station to begin the drug round.

West Wing Corridor/Infirmary.
0730-0750.

The team dealing with the intervention paid little mind to Sam’s group or Stepford’s careful words, more intent on getting their charges under proper control in the shortest possible amount of time. The two who were caring for Aveline made a quick check of her physical condition before deciding that she was safe to move. Almost at once, a wheelchair was summoned from a storage room and the girl was deposited into it before the two nurses whipped her away towards the infirmary.

The room they took her into was as institutional as the rest of the building, but was clearly well run and very clean. There were five beds partitioned off by curtains, all able to be seen from the central desk, and several more rooms branching off behind closed doors. At once, they moved to position Aveline on one of the main beds, fully prepared to use restraints if she didn’t remain where they had placed her.

Already, a doctor had been summoned, and the staff at the desk were preparing medication without having to be asked. There was no wariness, only a resigned calm as they went about their business.

West Wing Corridor/Solitary Confinement.
0730-0750.

Devan, by far the more challenging patient, maintained his thee-nurse team as he struggled and fought. Rapidly, it became apparent to the intervention party that Devan was not going to be calmed or go down without a fight, so rather than attempting to move him, they worked in conjunction with each other to hold him still so that he would not be able to harm himself or others while Aveline was taken away and the other inmates were escorted to breakfast.

They remained in place until the coast was clear, only moving once Sarah’s group had been followed by Stepford into her room and the door had been locked behind them. Thus secure, they awaited Stepford’s return with a hypodermic syringe filled with a mild sedative, which she calmly attempted to deliver to Devan’s rump via intramuscular injection. There was not enough to put him to sleep, but it was a hefty enough dose to make him drowsy and pliable.

Once they had achieved control, the group moved Devan to a wheelchair and took him under heavy observation to the solitary confinement block where he was placed inside a secure room to recover. Padded to prevent injury with nothing but a window set very high in the wall and a viewing flap in the door, the room was designed to offer little in the way of distraction and nothing that could cause injury. It was well insulated and silent, neither cold nor warm, and the only light filtered weakly in through the bars of the window where the smallest chink of sky could be seen.