» Nurse Buck «

Buck didn’t have terribly long to wait. Aniella seemed a little overwhelmed by her breakfast and the Cafeteria, and struggled to eat thanks to both her disfigured mouth and her powerful urge to hide it. She only had the toast and water she’d requested, then looked helplessly at the Roman.

The little vampire moved fluidly off the wall and guided his Ragdoll through the process of returning her tray. He led her out of the Cafeteria and went through the motions of her tour. First, the Gymnasium complex… then the Rec Room, the Music Room, the Great Hall, and finally, the Library. Through it all the girl was basically mute. She didn’t ask the Nurse any questions, responding with a simple ‘yes, sir,’ when asked if she understood the rules of each room and of the place in general. Or, in the instances where he asked if she had any questions, a simple ‘no.’

It was frustrating for the ancient man: he couldn’t decide if he’d frightened Aniella with his grim comments earlier, if the stress of all the men in her new home (himself included) was too much for her, or if the pain of her stitched-together skin was becoming too great. He kept his comments brief and sort of rushed through in a few places.

Once the tour was complete, Buck turned to his patient.

“Well, Aniella, that’s everything I need to show you. For the rest of the day, you’re free to wander the patient areas and explore as you please. Or, if you prefer, I can show you back to your room… and I think you might need some medication as well.”

This girl could not look at his face. Her dark eyes never got higher than the spot below his left collarbone where his name and rank were stitched in gold against the black fabric.

“My room, please…” she began, and hesitated for a moment before saying more softly, “…and the medicine.”

“Very well,” the Head Nurse replied, inclining his head… even though she didn’t see the gesture.

Buck led Aniella up the stairs near the Library, and stopped at the Nurse’s Station conveniently located just outside the stairwell. There he found Cadence waiting, demanding a dose of her own.

“I didn’t get my RD this morning,” she told him from the other side of the counter in her familiar ghost of a voice. “I got pain medicine instead… but I think I need the RD more.”

There was something in her one unbandaged eye, and her manner of standing, that made Buck stop and contemplate her. It had been five months since her last incident with one of the Institute’s males, and her blindness that morning could have been the beginning of a new trend. He made another mental Post-It note that Cadence should always be kept as far away from Dante as possible. For someone who claimed to be avoidant of attractive men, Cadie certainly was hyper-aware of them.

“All right, Cadence, let me check what you were given this morning, and I’ll see what I can do for you.” He turned returned his attention to Aniella and switched back to Italian. “One moment, please. It appears I have two patients in need of chemicals.”

On the touch-screen mounted to the counter in the Station, Buck keyed in his passcode and tapped his way to the Mutant’s file. (Really, what sort of species was Mutant, anyway? Everyone in Osmond’s was a mutant, somehow. He generally referred to her as a MetaHuman.) She’d had a generous dose of an exceptionally powerful painkiller, something called Zydrate from an Earth far different than his own. The good thing about Zydrate was that it didn’t act as a respiratory or CNS depressant, so Cadie could have safely received her morning sedative along with the narcotic. The other staff had simply withheld it to mess with the telekinetic’s head… a dangerous game, at best.

Cadie would get a half-dose of her usual sedative; she just needed a little relaxant to sustain her until a full dose this evening. It was something the Institute called reglocondiazipine, or RD. It had a strong calming and disconnecting effect without the lazy, dreamy sensation of standard human benzos. The Zydrate should still have been making her feel a little loopy… unless…

“Cadie?” the vampire asked, pausing with the tip of her needle pressed against the vial of sedative, “Did the pain medicine from earlier make you feel anxious or itchy at all?”

“No,” she said softly. “Very dizzy… kind of…loose? It’s hard to describe.”

Buck nodded, and continued with his predetermined course. It wasn’t an adverse reaction to the Zydrate making Cadence edgy. It was probably Dante… or possibly Jaxillian. The Raven-Man had been awfully chummy with the MetaHuman lately. The Head Nurse had been surprised Cadence had tolerated that closeness so well for so long. Perhaps it was a combination of the two rather than just one or the other; old stressors and new.

For Aniella, Buck rapidly procured a dose of something that was basically undead morphine. It would make her groggy as well as numb. Sweet sleep for a sweet, shy girl.

“Aniella,” the vampire said in Italian when he’d finished getting the two girls’ medicine out of the cabinet, “I’ll give yours to you first. Please follow me.”

Then, in English to the Meta, “Aniella is new and she’ll get her medicine first. If you’ll go to your room, I’ll be along with your dose shortly.”

Cadence did what Buck instructed, as did Aniella. It was always a good day when he got to deal mostly with delicate little women who obeyed him so nicely. And he’d had an excuse to smack the shit out of Greg! His spirits were high as he instructed Aniella to sit on her bed: the pain medicine she’d be getting wasn’t clean like Zydrate and he didn’t want her falling over when the wave broke. He’d almost been smiling as he’d slipped on thin rubber gloves, asking the Ragdoll to excuse his touch as he cupped her elbow to steady her arm for the shot.

That all changed as he attempted to push the needle into her vein. The loose, sewn-on skin actually slipped out of place and resulted in his stab going into muscle rather than vein.

It was the first time he’d ever missed.

“My apologies, Aniella,” he said, rather surprised and very faintly disgusted. “I won’t make that mistake twice.”

True to his word, Buck hit her vein easily on the second attempt. Any pain he’d caused with the errant needle prick should have been erased by the chemicals he delivered into her bloodstream. He watched the girl sigh, relax, saw her lids begin to droop.

“Thank you, Nurse Buck,” the Ragdoll breathed through her medicated haze.

“Your gratitude makes me uncomfortable,” the vampire replied as he re-capped her needle and stripped the latex gloves from his hands. “I am only doing my job… although speaking Italian again almost does make it a pleasure.”

Buck paused and gazed at the young Ragdoll for a few heartbeats. If she’d been able to look him in the face he probably would have graced her with a small smile. But she couldn’t, so he didn’t, and the moment passed.

“You will probably sleep for a while now. When you wake, come to the Cafeteria for dinner. If I do not see you there by seven, I will come to fetch you.”

Without another word, the vampire rose and exited Aniella’s room. He stopped at the Central Station to get another set of gauze pad and bandage for Cadence’s eye, as well as a half-dose of Zydrate. The Head Nurse had something he wanted to check.

» Cadence «

So turn around, walk away,
Before you confuse the way we abuse each other,
If you're not afraid of getting hurt,
Then I'm not afraid of how much I hurt you.

Cadie didn’t see who else left the Cafeteria, or when. She really wouldn’t have really cared even if she could have watched. The pain medicine still had her feeling woozy and weak. Though she’d eaten what felt like enough food to sustain a small village for that day, her stomach was already rumbling with hunger and she grabbed another chocolate muffin to nibble as she shuffled down the hallway with her arm tucked in Jax’s.

The stress of being blind, hurt, and in physical contact with a being she tried to think of as nothing more than an ally was really starting to wear on the Mutant. She felt prickly, cranky, and anxious. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t had her sedative and probably needed it.

“Jax,” she said in her usual whisper, “we need to check the Stations for nurses. I need my RD.”

The Raven cocked his head and turned one round, dark eye critically down at his telekinetic cohort. It was as if he suddenly realized that he’d shifted her hand to rest on the back of his and covered it with his other one, pinning her arm against the side of his ribcage. He loosened his grip and made the space between them a little bigger, shifting his arm so her hand was on the metal of his wrist restraint instead of against his skin.

“Thank you,” Cadie said softly, sighing a little in relief. Though he instinctively knew what was bothering her, his exact thoughts were generally a mystery to the young woman as he could not articulate them. It wasn’t the first time she’d contemplated asking Nurse Buck for one of the translators the nurses occasionally wore: if she could get her hands on one, Jax could talk in his own squaking Raven-speak and she’d be able to understand him.

The wish, in and of itself, made Cadence nervous all over again. She took a few deep, calming breaths and forced herself to concentrate on climbing the stairs in the darkness. After the first time she made a misstep and nearly fell, she took her hand away from Jax and had him hover near her as she navigated with a two-handed grasp on the railing. At the top of the stairs he opened the door for her, and made to take her arm again as they exited into the main hallway. Mercifilly, one of the nurses was standing at the Station by the top of the stairs.

“Jax,” he said with a slow smile. “Just the birdbrain I wanted to see. It’s time for your therapy session!”

Cadie couldn’t see, but she would have sworn she felt her companion stiffen at her elbow. She heard him sigh, and then he released his grasp on her forearm. She resisted the urge to sigh in relief, and allowed him to place her palm on the counter instead.

“Wait!” she said with as much loudness as she could muster. “I need my RD before you take him downstairs.”

She licked her cracked lips and took a step forward, feeling along the counter. Cadie heard the nurse huff and then move. The faint tapping noise told her that he was checking her medication administration record in the computer system.

“You had pain medicine three and a half hours ago. You can’t have any RD yet… sorry about your luck.”

He wasn’t sorry about her luck, he was glad he didn’t have to go to the trouble of drawing up a shot for her. The young woman didn’t need to see it on his face… she could hear it in his voice.

“Come on, Jax,” he said. “Don’t fight me this time.”

“But, wait,” Cadence whispered insistently. “Let him show me to my room before you take him. I’m blind today.”

The nurse gave a small, derisive chuckle. “Well that just sucks for you, Cadence. Jax is already late… if he doesn’t come along quietly, and right now, he’s going to get hurt.”

She heard the two males begin to move away from her, and when the Raven croaked, “See. You,” Cadie felt a painful tightness in her chest. She did her level best not to get attached to Jax but she needed him today… and the thought of him in pain always made her feel bad.

“I’ll come get you for dinner, just stay in your room when you get done,” the girl called as loudly as she could manage. “Remember I’m safe up here!”

Jax squawked once in reply, and the door to the stairwell clanged shut. Cadence was alone with the quiet and the hope that her helper would survive another brutal treatment. Again the tears began to well in Cadie’s eyes, and again they stung in the wound on her left lid. She took a deep breath and forced herself to move.

Her bony fingers felt their way along the counter to its end and then followed it around to the inside. She moved slowly, carefully, and eventually found her way to the chair that she knew would be situated in the little cutout desk. She pulled it out to the center of the Station and took a seat. Then Cadie closed her eye -even though she couldn’t see anything, it had been open- and began to spin.

Although it was amusing, this wasn’t just for fun. Cadie had learned long ago that this was an effective way to cure an episode of blindness. Round and round she went, until she was really dizzy, then came to a sudden stop and snapped her eye open. Sure enough, in an effort to help negate her vertigo, the vision had returned.

Sighted again, Cadie was suddenly too nervous to go walking about in search of another nurse: she might bump into Blondie, and the others wouldn’t give her any RD right now, anyway. She decided to wait in the Station, sitting in the chair with her back facing the hallway, until someone showed up to medicate her. She was in luck: Buck appeared with Ponytail Girl almost exactly half an hour later.

» Buck & Cadence «

Cadie did as the Head Nurse instructed: she returned to her room to wait her turn. Buck was easy for her to deal with, for several reasons. He didn’t feel at all human. His skin was pale and hard and cool as marble. His voice was somehow melodic and soothing, almost hypnotic. He wasn’t entirely unattractive but often had an air of reserved arrogance that Cadie found off-putting. She’d also seen him do some pretty brutal shit to some of her fellow patients: the sight of him with his shirt shredded, the bright red of open wounds in garish contrast to his moonlight flesh, fangs bared at psychotic werewolf he was attempting to subdue was burned into her memory.

He was also very quick about… everything. Five whole minutes hadn’t passed before the vampire nurse showed up at her door, fresh bandages and full syringes in hand.

“All right, Cadence. I brought your medicine, but I’d also like to check on your wound.”

She was seated on her bed, and Buck dragged the small chair in her room over to the side of it so he could relax without getting too friendly. Always with her he was mindful of his physical presence: he didn’t touch her unless it was strictly necessary for treatment. Cadence assumed it was simply his high level of professionalism. The truth was that Buck loathed touching humans he didn’t intend to eat. It was rather like playing with raw pork. He put on a new pair of latex gloves.

“That’s fine,” the girl agreed in her usual muted tones.

Buck nodded and began to unwrap the MetaHuman’s gauze halo. He couldn’t help noticing how fine and dull her hair was, though it was exceptionally soft. She sat very still, her one good eye closed to help her escape the nearness of his presence. Although he was a vampire, cold and strange, his nimble fingers were awfully close to her face.

And then it was over, the gauze pad stained with Cadence’s own blood fluttering like a sad leaf down into her lap. Buck could smell it distinctly. Even though he wasn’t hungry the ancient vampire couldn’t help the small ache he felt in the top of his mouth. He could, however, push his natural impulse aside. The stitched bottom lid hadn’t healed at all, which filled the Roman with a sense of dread. The woman’s Meta nature dictated that she should have healed this wound halfway already. That she hadn’t could mean only that her body’s energy reserves were totally depleted despite the girl’s efforts to eat inhuman amounts of food.

He repressed a sigh as he reached for the numbing/antiseptic spray he’d brought with him. Cadie couldn’t read the petite nurse’s face unless he wanted her to, so she didn’t know if he disliked what he’d seen.

“Is it bad?” she mustered the courage to ask.

“Not especially,” Buck replied. “What worries me is that it hasn’t even started to heal yet.”

Cadence pressed her lips into a thin line. She knew what that meant just as well as her Nurse did. She was starving, energy reserves at zero. The Mutant didn’t need to be told; the empty feeling in the bottom of her stomach and the diffuse pain throughout her body clued her in to what was happening. Cadie looked up into Buck’s face, searching for a way out other than the one she knew was coming.

“They weren’t going to tell you, because they were worried you’d have an episode, but you’re getting a button installed tonight,” he said, in a rather regretful tone.

‘Button’ was clinical slang for a feeding tube, which would be installed just under her ribcage and wind its way directly into her stomach. In response, Cadie held out her arm, exposing the inside of her elbow… bruised and lumpy from a year’s worth of deliberately rough injections. Buck almost winced for her: if she’d been his patient out in Orrace, he’d have ordered ultrasound therapy to help soften those scars.

“RD. Now.”

Buck could hear the stress in her voice. She hadn’t whispered, she’d growled, and didn’t lick her lips because her teeth were gritted. With obliging rapidity he uncapped one of the two syringes in his hand. Cadie couldn’t be bothered to find his icy touch offensive on the back of her bicep as he steadied her arm with one hand. She loved getting injections from Buck because he was the gentlest and most precise with his needlework. He also didn’t force the medicine in, but pushed it gently over a few long moments. Though the Roman had only planned to give the Meta half a dose of the RD, he’d drawn up a full one and upon seeing her reaction to the feeding tube news, he generously gave her all of it.

Just like the Ragdoll had done, the MetaHuman sighed and relaxed as the medicine spread through her arm to her heart, and from there to her gifted brain and the rest of her body. She instantly felt more nonchalant about the whole feeding-tube business.

“It won’t be so bad, Cadence.” Buck reassured her as he reclaimed the bottle of antiseptic. She didn’t flinch or even really seem to notice as he slid a finger under her chin to steady her head, which had suddenly become slightly wobbly. “This is antiseptic and numbing medicine. It should feel nice, but it might sting a little at first.”

“Mmhmm,” the girl murmured with a small, soft smile. The RD they gave her here in the Institute really did work better than anything else she’d ever been given on Earth. It didn’t just make her too inebriated to think coherently. It actually seemed to remove her ability to care about what was happening around her. Buck’s digits under her chin to tilt back and steady her head should have made her distinctly uncomfortable, but she just closed her good eye and waited for the stinging spray.

It didn’t sting at all: it felt cool, soft, soothing. The hot ball of pain turned into a low smolder, fire dampened by rain, and her cracked lips parted to issue a deep sigh of relief.

“Feel nice?” the vampire asked, mildly amused, and was rewarded with another dreamy smile and a soft ‘mmhmm’ from the back of the girl’s throat.

Buck rewarded Cadence with a few more spritzes before he released her, and the girl made a sound that put him very much in mind of a purring cat. Thanks to both the RD and the ICD, Cadence didn’t even bother to try restraining her inappropriately happy responses to the lidocaine on her battered lid.

She sat quietly, eyes still closed as Buck replaced the thick pad over her left one and wound the gauze in place around her head again. He tied it off and sat back, reclaiming the two syringes.

“Now, since you seem to enjoy the lidocaine spray so much, I’ll give you a little more of the painkiller. Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”

Cadie opened her mouth to protest, but Buck was so fast that his needle was in her vein before the sound took any discernible shape. The Zydrate traveled like a freight train through her slender form, and she thought that if a drug overdose was how she died, it would be a pleasant way to go. But the painkiller was clean and crisp: she was numb without being overly woozy. Still, she suddenly felt as if she could get some very deep, very restful sleep… if she just laid her head down on her pillow…

Buck seemed to sense the change in the girl. It was as if she’d completely forgotten about the feeding tube and wanted only to nap before lunch. They never had to worry about Cadie missing a meal: in no more than two hours, her stomach would wake her and demand that she attempt to fill it. He gathered the wrapping from the new gauze pad, the bloody used one, the old gauze and the used syringes before rising. As the vampire turned to grab the chair and drag it back to its place at Cadie’s vanity/desk, he felt the faint pressure of her painfully thin digits on his wrist. He froze. She’d never willingly touched his skin before.

Cadie was only dimly aware of what she was doing. She felt half-drunk, half-stoned and completely uninhibited. The Mutant was not herself, and that was the best excuse she could make for crossing that invisible line in such a bold manner. She was both fascinated and repulsed by the vampire nurse’s stony flesh. Her one green eye looked up into his face, searching for his golden gaze beneath the shadows of his tousled bangs. When their eyes met, Cadie found herself surprisingly unafraid: there was a strange and unearthly beauty to that shifting stare, and none of the menace she'd expected. Buck found only mild surprise: the Meta had already been a year in this place, and wouldn't have survived so long if she didn't possess some significant intestinal fortitude.

“Buck,” she said in a voice with more strength than the one she usually used, though her words were faintly slurred, “I know you don’t like it when we thank you, or say you’re kind… I get it, because you’re not always kind… sometimes you can’t be. I’ve seen you do some very unkind things. But when you want to… you can be gentle, and kind. So thank you for being kind to me today. I needed it.”

Cadie dropped her eyes and released his wrist, her voice growing quieter as she continued. “I won’t be mad about the feeding tube… if it makes me fat and strong.”

The Roman was put off-kilter by his patient’s sudden sincerity. He’d been caring for Cadie less than a year, and because of her aversions and his gender she’d never treated him with any sort of familiarity. Though she smelled and acted like a human, Cadence was something else. She was Meta; different, an addition, something alongside humanity. Despite her serious illness, she seemed to have that steel survivor’s core… it was only difficult to see because of her meek demeanor and waifish stature.

The Meta was a stark contrast to the ailing Ragdoll. Cadence just might survive this place, if she could ever get a handle on her out-of-control powers. Aniella, on the other hand, would be lucky to live out the next month. He smiled a very small smile at the ash-blonde, and replied with something like familiarity.

“We couldn’t make you fat if we tried, young lady. But strong is most definitely the point of the procedure. Now get some rest.”

Cadie nodded, burrowing down into the bed as the Head Nurse finally returned the chair to its place. He didn’t say anything else before leaving the room. He didn’t need to: the Meta was already breathing the slow rhythm of sleep.

» Cadence «

The change in the light filtering through her window told Cadie she’d only slept a couple hours, but she felt incredibly rested. Chemicals still pulsed through her veins making her numb and loose in all places but one: her cramping, hollow stomach. She flung back her covers and forced herself upright. On top of being heavily medicated, she was lightheaded and weak with hunger. Each step was a struggle, both hands on the wall for balance, but she made it to the elevator. Strength, the vampire had promised her strength. Soon… but not now. Now she had to make it to the Cafeteria, and feed the gaping black hole in her face.

Progress was slow, but the girl gained the elevator. She nearly fell over when it started to drop, but regained her balance before it stopped and the doors slid open. Though it seemed like a short enough walk from the elevator to the Cafeteria, the girl had to fight for each inch. By the time she reached the doors she was shaky, sweaty and scared. Cadie didn’t know if she had it in her to actually get the food she’d need to live.

The door weighed a ton, and she barely got it open. The ash-blonde waif staggered to Darlene’s desk and albeit collapsed into the chair next to it.

“Darlene,” she whispered between panting breaths, “I’ve never asked you for anything, but today I sincerely need help getting food.”

The heavyset nurse raised an eyebrow and leaned forward. “We’re going to put a tube in you, you know. Lookit you, you’re literally about to starve to death.”

Cadence nodded, silently thanking Nurse Buck for leaking that little tidbit to her earlier. “It’s okay, as long as it makes me stronger… better. But unless you want to do it right now, I need a sandwich like nobody has ever needed a sandwich before.”

Darlene chuckled, and then grew serious. She clearly hadn’t expected the telekinetic to be so reasonable about the feeding tube. And then she shrugged, smiling faintly, as if to say ‘why not’.

“All right, Cadence. If you’re not going to fight us over the feeding tube, for now I’ll have one of the other nurses bring you a meal. I’ll help you to your table.”

Cadence nodded and began readying herself to rise, but Darlene held out a hand. “Wait.”

She opened the cabinet in the wall beside her desk -without getting up from her chair- and revealed a tiny fridge. From inside the hefty brunette retrieved a can of Sprite, a bottle of vanilla Ensure and a bottle of Pedialyte. She set them down in front of Cadie before reaching into a desk drawer and producing a Snickers bar and a pack of graham crackers.

“First, Pedialyte. Then the Ensure and the snacks. Then Sprite. Your food should be ready by then.” She turned her head to yell over Cadie’s shoulder. “Mike! C’mere!”

The mutant sipped her Pedialyte doggedly as Darlene rattled off a ridiculous list of high-fat, high-protein food for the nothing of a girl. Mike glanced at Cadence incredulously after Darlene had finished her long list, but nodded once and vanished into the kitchen. The orange drink disappeared and she ripped open the Sinckers bar with her teeth. It was so good, chocolatey and gooey, chased down with the thick vanilla protein shake. Cadie could almost feel the sugar entering her bloodstream. By the time she finished the last sips of her Sprite, she felt strong enough to make it to the nearest table… and Nurse Mike was bringing out her lunch. The first course was two thick slices of meatloaf smothered in mushroom gravy, huge servings of cream cheese and chive mashed potatoes, collard greens and black-eyed peas, a big slice of cornbread warm enough to melt its generous slather of butter, two yeast rolls and large glasses of both milk and sweet tea.

Cadence looked up at the two nurses, her one open eye wide and full of gratitude when she whispered, “Thank you.”

Then she set to methodically destroying her meal. Her focus was complete, almost Zen… the young mutant could have been in a professional eating contest. Both Darlene and Mike seemed rather astonished at the speed with which her first round disappeared, but the older woman gave the younger man a sage nod. Cadie’s second course was an amazing sub sandwich: pepperoni and salami, mozzarella cheese, Roma tomatoes, spinach, Kalamata olives, a little basil and a generous slather of mayo on both sides of the warm, crispy French bread. To drink there was a raspberry fizz -heavy on the syrup but without caffeine- and a big glass of ice water with lemon.

Halfway through inhaling her sub, Cadie looked up and realized someone had taken a seat at the table next to hers. The girl had hair a few shades lighter than the Mutant’s own: actual white to Cadie’s slivery-blonde. From the short distance she could also see that the other woman’s eyes were bloodred… and the other female had a distinctly sick and miserable look on her face.

Cadence was not normally the outgoing type, and wasn’t known to introduce herself to new patients… but the new girl who’d just come in seemed like she might need some assistance, and she was without a trailing nurse. The Mutant took a deep breath and spoke as loudly as she could force herself. (It was probably just loud enough for Simone to hear her over the din of the Cafeteria.)

“Excuse me, miss? I don’t mean to bother you, but do you need some help?”

---xX--Xx---

Kyle had to get pretty forceful with Rak to move him up from his seat. The Shadowborn had skipped eating, which wasn’t surprising or alarming at all. He simply didn’t need actual food. The young man made it through his introduction to the Gymnasium and the Rec Room. In the Music Room, however, things went sour. In his few minutes of browsing the room, Rak found the bound paper guide to the music programmed into the stereo system. He put on a song from his homeworld and refused to be moved thereafter. When Kyle tried to force him, Rak sent one of his shadow-spikes through the nurse’s body: in just below the collarbone, out through the center of his shoulderblade. Nurses Jean, Greg, and Randa responded. The situation ended with Rak subdued by a trio of ultra-powerful flashlights until a suitable shadow-elemental sedative could be administered. He was returned to his room and also given a powerful hallucinogen as punishment/treatment. Kyle would not return to the patient treatment areas for two days, and Rak wound up on Basement Level 2, in a coma.

Sasha and Anya both managed to complete their tours, and were returned to their rooms. Anya was sedated again, and whether she actually slept or became too intoxicated to escape from her own nightmares was anyone’s guess. She remained asleep in her room until lunchtime. Sasha attempted to sexually assault the male nurse who was sent to administer her afternoon injection, and was moved to Solitary Confinement on Basement Level 1 for two days.

Alice got as far as the Library, where she found a book she especially liked and curled up in a chair that was warmed by a ray of sun through the window. When Sarah attempted to move the neko, the woman clawed the nurse viciously. Alice truly fought like a cat; twisty and scratchy, not doing a lot of real damage but nearly impossible to hold. Although Sara and Stanley struggled happily with Alice, it took the addition of Nurse Buck to finally subdue her. She was sedated and restrained for the remainder of the day, but during the night awoke and broke one of her bonds. She was sedated again and chained to her bed. By morning, she was unresponsive. Alice was then pronounced comatose and removed to Basement Level 2.

---xX--Xx---

» Bernadette «

“Dante Veneti,” the tall human said smoothly, and then he proceeded to shock the Sea Dweller by taking her hand in his. Where Bernie came from, the only reason for a male to touch a female was in order to breed with her. The physical contact kept the female from changing into water and escaping. This Dante, she was absolutely certain he couldn’t move his form like that… she knew what a handshake was, and that wasn’t what he was doing, either. When a human wanted that, they held out their own hand rather than taking the other person’s. And Dante wasn’t stopping with merely taking her hand in his; no, he raised it to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles, looking up into her silvery eyes.

For a moment, the Angrkillian was frozen. His lips felt warm and soft and dry against her own cool, damp skin. And his eyes… there was a time, during the hot summer on her planet, when the water in the Bay of the Growing turned green with a rich algal bloom. That hue meant food for the newborns, the promise of life for another generation of Bernadette’s people. Dante’s eyes were a little darker than she remembered the water being, but the shade was close enough to make her think of her favorite season at… home.

Coupled with the way he held her hand -she seemed to remember that when humans touched their lips to someone else it was called a kiss and did have romantic connotations- she found herself caught, unsure as to her next move. He couldn’t mean to breed with her, surely… she wasn’t even 100% clear on how humans did that, though from what she did know it might be possible for her to couple with a human. Not that it seemed likely to be pleasurable for her or result in any offspring.

Bernie couldn’t tell if Dante sensed her confusion or if he simply didn’t intend to breed with her right that moment, but he let go of her hand and straightened. She decided that humans were just totally weird about their mating rituals and she’d worry about Dante wanting to breed with her if he ever actually tried it.

“It is a pleasure, Bernadette. Any enemy of Greg’s is a friend of mine.”

Dante smiled at her, a gesture Bernie always found amusing. People had such neat, dull little teeth, they didn’t look fierce at all! She gamely showed him her own sharps in return.

“A tour would be lovely, Bernie,” the Magician continued, gesturing for her to lead the way as he spoke. “Do you mind if I call you that? Or do you prefer Bernadette?”

“Bernie is okay, say what you like,” she replied, moving just across the hall to the Rec Room door and laying her hand on the doorknob. Bernie paused, and gave Dante a suspicious glance over her shoulder. “But no more touch.”

Then she opened the door and stepped inside, holding the portal open and waiting for her new friend to follow. “This is room for rec,” she chirped brightly as he entered. Bernadette didn’t have the first clue that Rec was short for recreation, or really what recreation meant. “We play games here, and draw pictures. I like to draw!”

Though it sort of sounded childlike, the discovery of colored pencils and paper had been a game-changer for Bernie. A few Land-Dwellers knew how to make ink and paper out of plants, but Bernadette had never actually seen them before coming to Osmond’s. She had turned out to be rather talented at sketching, and had produced a couple of remarkable pictures depicting some of the sea life on her planet. They were currently taped to the wall in her room, their corners curling up from the high humidity.

The biscuits tasted nasty. As always, Anya fought down the urge to spit them out, preferably in someone’s face. Despite the fact that they were made of berries, and that the word ‘berries’ was synonymous with ‘yummy’ in the human world, the biscuits tasted foul. Anya had figured out the specific berry used long ago, yet she never remembered to complain about it. Raa’iy berries were the most disgusting of the bunch, yet Anya was given the privilege of probably being the only Dreamweaver that consumed them on a daily basis.

The dark blue mess that she had spat on out onto the table had started running off to the side of the table on its own accord; Anya didn’t make a move to stop the seemingly conscious berry pulp from navigating across the cafeteria floor. Nor did she pay any attention to the two patients at her table; whether they were disgusted at her childish actions, Anya didn’t know or care. All she cared for, at the particular moment, was the bitter taste slowly crawling across her taste buds.

“This is icky.” She announced, and stood up. “I’m never eating these again!”

The man who served them their meals rolled his eyes, going back to his job without batting an eye. This was the four hundred and twenty seventh time the Dreamweaver had made that proclamation, only to forget the following day. He was surprised, however, by the young girl approaching the counter and holding out her hand. Giving her a questioning look didn’t help matters at all, nor did shooing her away with a swipe of his hand.

“What do you want?” He said in short, clipped tones, barely looking up from his job.

“Muffin.”

“No. Your body can’t process anything except those weird biscuits of yours.”

“Muffin.”

“You can’t eat it!” He raised his voice just a tad, but it was enough to elicit a negative reaction from the girl. Even while he kept his gaze down, avoiding her eyes, he could tell the girl was angry.

“Can so! Give me.”

The muffin was unceremoniously tossed at her like one would towards a stray dog. Anya didn’t seem to mind, however, nor did she hear the cafeteria man’s mutters of wasted food as she hopped away and took a seat at an empty table. The dull man and the kitty-lady were no fun, so why should she share her food with them? Not even into the first bite, Anya was interrupted by the arrival of Farrah. The blonde woman barely reacted to the sight of Anya ‘sampling’ the human pastry, spitting out every bite she took.

Without a word, she brushed the remnants of the muffin away from Anya’s hand and handcuffed the Dreamweaver’s hands together, heavily restricting any movement on her part. Anya didn’t respond, and absently drifted after the blonde woman, eyes distant. She didn’t know where the yellow-haired woman was taking her, but she sure as hell didn’t want to be confined to her boring old room again.

Plus, that man would be waiting for her.

For a good while, Anya was calm and quiet, taking in the areas Farrah pointed out with childish wonder. It passed too quickly for Anya to take in anything properly, let alone commit the areas to memory. Like a mirage, she drifted along, almost colliding with the nurse as she stopped in front of a door. A very familiar door.

All too soon, Anya realized where they had taken her. What lay beyond the door was a room quite literally out of her nightmares, with a sinister being lying in wait. Why was Farrah being so cruel and taking her back?

“No!” She protested as soon as Farrah swiped her card and opened the door. Even with the minimal view, Anya could see the dark shadow sitting on the dresser. A wave of panic gripped her and she bolted down the hallway, dimly aware of Farrah thundering after her. She wouldn’t go back to the room, not under any circumstances… would she?

Farrah’s strong grip wrapped itself around Anya’s waist, yanking her back with all the force of a weightlifter. What the hell was this woman made of? It left Anya extremely breathless and gasping for breath. It was already hard breathing in this world, and now Farrah had made it ten times harder. The nurse didn’t spare a second in taking advantage of Anya’s incapacitated state and flung her over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Breathe.

Focusing solely on the suddenly agonizing task of breathing, Anya was barely aware of being thrown inside her room until she collided with the floor, her back absorbing most of the impact. As the infernal nurse slammed the door shut, Anya flung herself against the door, a split second too late. Balling up her fists, she banged them into the door, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Only a few seconds later did she feel the aftershocks of a needle being inserted in her neck. She had no idea when Farrah had managed to jab a syringe in her neck but Anya could feel the sedative rapidly taking effect and, using the last remnants of her strength, she increased the volume of the commotion. Not even a second later, a fireball exploded against the door, all the no avail.

Eventually, she slumped against the door, feeling her anger wash away and hopelessness taking its place. The man had watched the entire spectacle across the room, sitting in a relaxed position on the dresser. Studying the form with lifeless eyes, Anya eventually mustered up the energy to form words.

“Whatchu want from me?” The sedative had done a good job – too good, in fact, as it had heavily slurred her speech.

The man did nothing except smile as he slid off the desk. Tendrils of some kind slowly slid off his arms, making their way across the walls in a similar fashion as her previous nightmare. Once again, Anya cursed the nurse and her sedatives as she felt the drugs course through her system, rendering her incapable of moving. The tendrils slowly faded into dull darkness and enveloped the entire room, their cold grip wrapping around Anya’s body and dragging her in.

So,pne turned her head slowly at the sound of another voice, a female voice close by, and one which was speaking to her. The question was not one Simone had not heard before. Simone had been asked if she were ‘okay’ every time she had returned from a mission, or after a test, or following a injury. The nurses, doctors, and others whom had spoken those words had not meant them in any form of kindness, so why was this any different,,,? “She isn’t one of them,” Simone’s inner voice stated the obvious.,,,

“I don’t think you can help me,” Simone replied, her voice barely above a whisper as the white haired female grasped the edge of the table even tighter, her fingernails extending into the table’s surface, even this small act of transformation causing the vampire to feel even worse. “They… gave me something… made me sick,” Simone hissed, her carmine coloured eyes flashing with anger as Simone tried to steady her breathing, so that she didn’t have to gasp out almost every spoken word between ragged pants for air.

Simone hated to even think of asking for help. She was not some weak human. She was not a pathetic creature who relied upon others to do things which she could not, as her creators had been. But the sad act was, as sickening as it made her feel, was Simone could not even stand as present, let alone cross the cafeteria. With a audible, resigned sounding sigh, Simone lifted her gaze from the table and looked again to the girl whom had spoken to her. “Wait; there is something you can do for me. Could you get me a drink?”

Simone lifted a trembling hand, a splintering sound coming from the table’s edge as Simone’s claw(s) pulled free. Pointing toward the table where the bags of lycan’s blood had been, Simone took several deep breaths before speaking again, this time managing to do so without panting and in a steadier sounding voice… if barely. “Those silver coloured bags there. Can you see them/ If you could bring me two.” Simone’s slightly pale cheeks turned a slight shade of red as she finished speaking, both from embarrassment at being so weak and anger, loathing for the people whom had put her at Osmond’s,a nd for every bloody nurse and doctor in the asylum…

» Cadence «

“I don’t think you can help me,” the woman replied. “They… gave me something… made me sick.”

Cadie nodded at the other female. With her bandaged left eye and her bones practically showing through her skin, the Mutant was not exactly a poster child for good patient care. Sometimes they gave her hallucinogens when she went into ‘therapy’, just to make the giant TV screen seem a little more intense. She could certainly sympathize with drugs made to hurt instead of help. And the red-eyed woman was also correct in that there wasn’t much Cadence could do about it.

Right about then, the mutant waif realized that the other patient’s fingernails were turning into claws and digging into the table. This was clearly someone of sizeable strength, and though the she seemed to be struggling to keep calm her breaths were ragged. The expression on her face was pained, and almost angry.

Something else Cadence could sympathize with… especially when she thought of her impending stomach implant.

“Wait; there is something you can do for me. Could you get me a drink?” the white-haired female asked.

The Mutant nodded, hoping it wouldn’t be too complicated a task. When the other girl raised her hand, her nails left splintery divots in the plywood and laminate that composed the table. She gestured to the carnivore steam line. Then she took several deep breaths, as if steadying herself.

“Those silver coloured bags there. Can you see them? If you could bring me two.”

It took a few seconds for Cadie to finally locate the silver bags her fellow patient was referring to. She wasn’t very familiar with that side of the food line; although the Mutant ate a vast amount, her menu was relatively tame. For a moment, she wished Jax was there: he would have been happy to do the leg work. But he was in therapy downstairs, and Cadence was up here on her own… with someone who needed help.

Briefly, and on an almost subconscious level, Cadie did a calculation in her head. Thin as she was, her body still weighed at least eighty pounds and it was about twenty-five feet from her table to the steam line. So to get up and go get the bags she’d have to move eighty pounds fifty feet. Or she could just use her powers and move five pounds twenty five feet.

The answer was obvious.

It had been a long time since the Mutant had willingly used her telekinesis. Though it had almost been like a cherished pet of hers during childhood, it had grown into a savage beast. The Institute had collared it, put a finite ceiling on how much damage it could do… but sometimes the waif still cringed when she opened the door to the cage.

Yet for all the times it struck without her command, it had never disobeyed her when given a specific order. It was still like feeling her own willpower solidify -in this case, around two of those silver bags- and follow her focus up into the air. She drew them across the room effortlessly, two willing little pets that docilely floated past the head of another patient who was staring blankly into his soup. Setting things down gently was always the hardest part: the impulse is to just let go but if you do it that way items crash and bounce. The trick Cadie had learned was to select a spot on the table where you wanted to put it, and then distinctly put it down before letting go. Just like you’d do with your actual hand.

So the two silver bags settled themselves down smoothly just in front of the white-haired woman.

One of the added perks of not physically getting up to fetch the bags was that Cadie didn’t have to stop eating. She’d actually torn a large bite from the sub while using her ‘invisible hand’ to get the other patient’s lunch. She chewed and swallowed as the things landed, glancing sideways and giving the other woman a small… even slightly shy… smile. Because this was generally the part where people freaked out.

“There you go,” the Mutant said in her usual, soft voice. She licked her lips, and then took a sip of her raspberry fizz.

Ryn opened her eyes, blinking blearily. She was in a bed (a bed?) and in a room (when did that happen?). The furniture was adequate for a room of this size, if rather simple in design. What was going on?

The door opened and a woman in a nurse uniform walked in. "Oh good, you're awake. Hurry up, you just missed breakfast." Her tone, however, suggested that she couldn't have cared less.

"Is this a hospital?" Ryn demanded as she got out of the bed. Her clothes had been replaced with lilac scrubs. Yep, definitely a hospital. "Who are you?"

"Your nurse, obviously," the woman replied. "It's time for your medicine."

Ryn's eyes narrowed. "I'm not sick—" She yelped as the nurse jabbed her with a needle.

"What did you do?" But she already knew the answer. The "medicine" raced through her bloodstream, binding to various cells. Dulling her emotions.

She had never bothered to make herself resistant to poisons or sedatives. Holding on to that anger, she reached out mentally to rip apart the air molecules around the nurse's head.

Nothing happened.

What was this? The covalent bonds held fast, despite her best efforts at breaking them. This had never happened before...

Memories returned in a flash. The needle sinking into her neck, insectoid eyes watching impassively as she lost consciousness. Bob!

The nurse didn't seem to notice. "Can't have you crazies starting shit now." She turned and walked to the door. "I'll show you to the cafeteria, and afterwards I'm supposed to give you a tour of the place." She stopped. "Well? Are you coming?"

She should have been furious at being out-maneuvered, but the drug blunted the emotion, reducing it to dull anger. This allowed her to think: why had he sent her to a loony bin?

The answer was obvious. Ryn smiled beatifically and followed the nurse, using her powers to smooth out the tangles in her hair and shape her energy field into wings. It was important to make a good impression.

As it turned out, there was nobody in the cafeteria. At least she didn't have to stand in line. Parts of the selection didn't look edible at all, though. What kinds of freaks stayed here?

She'd carefully selected her meal so it had all the components of a balanced diet. If she'd had her auxiliary mouths, she could have tested her meal for drugs. For now, she'd just have to rely on her taste buds. The food got no reaction from her nurse, which annoyed her. Would a crazy person care what they ate?

Then again, she wouldn't expect her escape to be that easy.

At least they had a library. Their selection was mind-boggling; she'd be thrilled if it weren't for the fact that this was a mental hospital. They even had all the scientific journals from the annual flesh-crafting competition on Videnis, though she only needed the ones dating from five years ago onwards. She had to get ideas, after all.

The music room had an equally wide selection, and the Great Room reminded her of some ballrooms her clients and targets had. They was even a gymnasium and recreation room, all well-equipped. They didn't spend nearly as much money on hiring staff, if her nurse was any indication.

Eventually, it was time to return to the cafeteria for lunch. A few patients were already eating; two blood bags of a silvery liquid floated to a table as she watched. Ryn frowned. If all the patients had powers like her, she'd need to be careful. She had no intention of starting anything she couldn't win.

She stopped by the table after selecting another nutritious and balanced meal (salad with baked chicken breast and an apple as a snack). A girl with a bandaged eye and a white-haired woman were sitting there. Ryn scrutinised the girl, thinking. If she offered to heal her eye, the benefits were obvious: gratitude and a potential ally. On the other hand, she wasn't keen on revealing her bio-manipulation abilities to the staff.

"What happened to your eye?" She asked as she sat next to them.

Somewhere out in space, surrounded by countless stars and light-eons of dark matter and rapidly-expanding sparse matter, amongst the haystack of space debris floating about aimlessly, an insignificant little rabbit-like creature had hidden itself away. As far as it new, the closest civilization was 5 million light years away. If it glanced in that direction, granted it had some sort of perfect zoom vision, it would be able to see the dinosaurs gallivanting about newborn landmasses. Or, there was something closer a few realities over, but adding that fifth dimension to space made reckoning of lots of things more difficult, and granted that it had only been capable of thinking in such manners for a few years, it wasn’t really inclined to take on the mental burden of doing so.

Not that its mind nor body were particularly busy right now. The rabbit seemed to be passing the time by developing some sort of wormhole through which it would guide a nearby asteroid, hurtling it through space at speeds which would break the foundations of physics as humans knew them. Occasionally it would look up with an out-of-place expression upon its face, perhaps bursting out into laughter (silent, of course, since the sound could not move through space) or muttering nonsensical words to itself. And less frequently (though if one had been watching for a while one might have noticed that the frequency was increasing) he would pop something into existence next to himself, unscrew the safety lid, and pop an unhealthy-looking number of pills into his mouth.

It was as he did this again that something changed. The rabbit’s brow creased, and it glanced into the bottle with something akin to anger or deep disgruntlement crossing its face.

<I’m out of Awakening, mind linking me where some is?> The Mew raised an incredulous eyebrow and glanced over at the other in the room with him.

<No, we need you to come back so that we can talk. Then you can have your pills.> “I’m calling him in; we’ll do things your way,” the cat told the strange bipedal seed, and it nodded and disappeared into the pool by which they sat.

“Alright, then.” The rabbit appeared just moments later, coming over and plopping down where the Elder’s recent visitor had been resting. “Not sure why we couldn’t continue the conversation telepathically, but here I am. What you need?”

“I just wished to check on your status. We may have found a place that can help with your conditions.” The cat maintained admirable control over his facial expression; it never wavered from the grim line that he normally wore when dealing with this particular little mistake. He should have known that such a young mind was not ready for the responsibilities that he’d heaped on it, but times had been tough.

“I don’t need help. I’ll get over it.” The rabbit had that exasperated tone to its voice that one got when he had become tired of repeating himself over and over to no avail. That was, of course, the case here: as much as it denied it, everyone could tell that things weren’t getting better on their own.

“Ah, yes, no one liked Gamma Draconis 5, anyway, right?” Though it was said in a joking manner, the Mew didn’t change its expression at all, lending a biting accusatory edge to the statement. The rabbit just remained quiet, as it did in such cases, waiting for whatever other shoe would drop to do so. “Regardless, it’s not really up to you. Celibi gave me a visit, and brought this with him.”

The rabbit stared at the ball that the cat held up, a look of horrible realization spreading over its face. “No way, you wouldn’t!” Upon finding no yield in the Elder’s face, the rabbit disappeared, but they both knew that there was nowhere that it could hide.

“A rabbit… with wings on its butt.” If it didn’t actually say that (in surprisingly-nice script on decent paper; obviously a note that came with the patient instead of something that they’d documented themselves) on the forms, he’d have thought that maybe someone was joshing him. Not that there was generally much joshing among the Siblings, but such things had happened before. But no, it said it right there. Well, this would be different.

It took Charles a while longer than usual to get to his new patient: he’d had to deal with another one who’d magically slipped into a coma. She’d been a troublesome witch who howled on and on about frogs and warts (and specifically about turning people into “warts with frogs”), and it was with relief that he’d signed the paperwork to officially authorize her displacement to a lower floor. Hopefully his new patient wouldn’t be as much trouble, and he’d get off with a net win today.

As he made it to the door where they were temporarily keeping the thing, he wasn’t too surprised to see that the light was still on: when he’d come by earlier to place the chart and medicine by the door, it had already been so. Now he grabbed the medicine (a huge syringe of a powerful concoction that the chemistry team had shrugged their shoulders about when giving it to him, saying “should make him compliant: it might work?” Not necessarily reassuring, but rabbits with godlike powers didn’t come through their gates often, and he’d come with no instructions) and carefully opened the door. Maybe he should have brought a carrot?

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but a half-melted room with the foot-tall occupant floating serenely in the middle playing a game of mancala with itself was not it. He’d been well-trained, though, so whatever surprise he felt did not end up registering in his manner as he greeted the thing. “Good morning.”

<Ah!> Kevin glanced up from his game at the tall bearded nurse whom he’d felt come by earlier. <Just what I wanted to see! A person! You probably know what’s going on here!> The mancala board disappeared, the bits of dust that had served as a sort of quantum surface returning to their normal state and puffing out into the chamber in the subtle air currents that had been generated by the opening of the chamber door. He floated (a bit awkwardly: this weight on his neck was obviously dampening his telekinetic powers) over to the man, who held up a vicious-looking needle almost defensively. <Now now that’s unneeded. But as I was saying: whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat is gooooooooing on?> Even telepathically it drew out the syllables in a manner reminiscent of a childish human, treading somewhere on the line between annoying and adorable. For someone un-inclined to see such things in a good light, though, it was probably the former for Charles.

Charles made some sort of start at a jabbing motion with the needle, but seemed to think better of it. Patients weren’t supposed to be this awake, or this… pleasant. Especially not… he cast his eyes about and took in the sight of the walls, melted as if the room had recently seen a nuclear event. He’d have to note to increase the resistance on the collar if it was the thing that did that: he didn’t recall the walls being that way before, so that was the obvious conclusion. He’d have to go over the video records, too, to see just what the whole thing was about. Seemed that the witch hadn’t been replaced with someone as simple as he’d hoped. At least it didn’t seem to be intent on killing him right now, instead asking a question for which he, of course, had a prepared answer. “Welcome to Osmund’s Institute, the leading professional conglomeration for the treatment of mentally-ill superpowered individuals.”

<Osmund’s. Huh. So, they did send me to a mental institute.> Kevin did not seem happy with the news, flitting back and forth right in front of the nurse. <Of course they did, Bit has no idea what he’s doing. Should put that stupid thing right back in the satellite from whence it came! I’M FINE! WHY DID YOU SEND ME HERE YOU #$%^?>

As it stopped its feverish floaty pacing for a moment to make its mental cry at the world, Charles took the moment to make a jab at it with the syringe. It was a rabbit biologically, right? Charles certainly wasn’t a veterinarian, but he figured that what he knew about treating humanoid creatures wouldn’t be particularly helpful in this case, and so he just made a general guess at where to aim from seeing other take care of the more animalistic species a few times, and went for it. Even managed to hit flesh and begin the injection before the rabbit plummeted from the air.

Not quite the reaction he’d expected. Charles, always one for protocol, was quick to reach for his walkee-talkee, but as quickly as Kevin was down, it was back up again, spinning around to glare accusatorily at him. <DIDN’T I SAY THAT WOULDN’T BE NECESSARY?> The power of the psychic message (thankfully dulled at least somewhat), directed specifically at him as it was, was enough to start a headache throbbing in the upper right part of Charles’ skull. He made another jab with the needle, but this time the rabbit was too fast for him, darting to the side and then grabbing onto the syringe with all four of his tiny limbs.

For a few moments they struggled, but before Charles could drop his papers and grab for the object with his other hand, too, the Victini had propelled itself backwards, pulling the plunger (still firmly in Charles’ hand) right off of the rest of it. The medicine splashed out onto the floor, almost immediately beginning to fill the room with a nauseating stench, and Kevin tossed his end of the device onto the floor with venom.

There were protocols for this sort of thing. Charles took the distance that the rabbit had created, quickly moving back to the door and taking out his walkee-talkee. “I need room 1n027 gassed.” He pulled out a gasmask with his other hand as he replaced his walkee talkee with a taser, securing it over his face while brandishing the weapon at the approaching Victini.

<Oh no you don’t, GIVE ME THAT!> The rabbit went right for Charles’ face, but met the searing pain of the taser as the nurse dodged away from him. It didn’t seem to have much effect, as it immediately dove in again, but for the few minutes that they needed as the room became positively foggy with the amount of sedative being dumped into the air, Charles managed to stop the thing from getting his mask.

It appeared that even this wouldn’t work, though. The Victini didn’t seem to be tiring, and the taser certainly didn’t seem to be enough of a deterrent (the dodging was really the only thing keeping it off of Charles’ face). Charles’ radio crackled, and he heard something that sounded like “Code 113”, though he desperately hoped that he was wrong about that.

Of course, he wasn’t. As the powerful psychic generators in the walls around the room began to warm up, Charles could notice the edges of his vision blacken as his ears filled with a thrumming sound. He’d been chosen for this particular guest probably because of his extensive training surviving psychic attacks, but he knew that Code 113 was designed for things far more resilient than he. He placed himself –as quickly but safely as possible- in a prone position on the floor just before he blacked out. Gosh, even the witch wasn’t this bad.

Kevin couldn’t move once all was said and done. Or, rather, when the psychic field finally dissipated, he found that the robot which was slowly fleeing the room to a little hatch in the wall had increased the suppression on his collar to the max setting. It was weird, being unable to float into the air for locomotion or unable even to sense most of what he was now used to as he was forced back to the rudimentary baseline of sight, smell, hearing, and touch. He picked himself up weakly (seemed that they’d increased the resistance on whatever was stopping his energy flow, too), but then there was someone else (in a gas mask, and definitely not his nurse, who he could see was still sprawled on the floor knocked out) coming in, and before he could attempt to scurry away in whatever semblance of speed he could manage, having not done this running thing in a while, the fellow picked him up and brought him out of the room.

The door slid shut (not smoothly, Kevin noted, as the rails on which it slid seemed to have taken a beating at some point) and he removed his mask. Wait, it was Kevin’s nurse? Kevin scrutinized the face, but that was definitely the face of the man that they’d just left lying in that room. Different facial hair, and this man was a bit shorter, but he looked just like a short less-well-groomed clone of that guy!

“Guess we shoulda been more aggressive with the collar on this one before. Vent out 1n027 and get Charles out of there, I’ll give this thing its tour and drop it off at lunch.” At least he didn’t sound like Charles as he described his plan of action to the woman in the nurses’ station, who nodded affirmatively and began poking at some buttons as Short Clone began to, very professionally, given how much trouble Kevin had just caused, trundle the Victini about and show it the various areas that he’d have access to. If he weren’t so much trouble, Short Clone added, though that was the only mention he made of what had just gone down.

It was a bit embarrassing to be carted around by this new nurse, but Kevin resigned himself to it and even managed to enjoy the tour. Not that most of it was very interesting for him (most of the facilities weren’t really suited to a water-allergic rabbit), but they did have an amazing library, and that could probably give him something to do. Kevin had skipped out on a lot of his early education to tramp about the country pursuing the Pokemon Master dream, and had been trying to catch up these last few years as he managed to get books. Looked like he’d have no problem finding books here! Though from the titles he imagined that most of them weren’t in languages that he could understand, they were bound, from the sheer volume there (and the fact that he could read some of the titles) to have something he could.

“And that’s that.” It had been a very one-sided tour, as Short Clone couldn’t understand Kevin’s gibberish language and so, with no psychic power to clarify what it meant, the Victini had quickly given up on trying to discuss anything with him. “And this is our cafeteria. You missed breakfast with that silly fit you threw, so I guess you’re probably hungry. Not that we know what you eat.” He placed the rabbit down at a table, looking around at the other nurses about the room. Kevin followed his line of vision, and they eventually rested their eyes on Charles, who stood against the wall with a somewhat tired expression on his face. Short Clone ruffled the Victini’s hair between his ears with his fingers, and then walked off to possibly update Charles on how it had gone. Pleasant enough fellow.

Well this was wonderful. Kevin felt the oppressive force of the collars even more now that he had to move himself about on his limbs again. He experimentally hoped about a few times on his side of the table before looking across its expanse toward the three who had congregated on the other side, eyeing them critically. They didn’t look particularly crazy, though he wasn’t really sure what to look for even if they were. One seemed to have gotten into a bit of a scrape recently, another had claws, and the last one was winged, but it wasn’t really that strange considering that he’d seen odder beings on his tour.

Well, maybe they could make worthwhile conversation. Kevin made his way over without too much trouble, and plopped himself down by the two silver packets that one of them had floated over (unless floating was the basic food delivery system here, though the lines by what looked like a kitchen suggested otherwise). Well, then one of them was psychic to some extent, maybe that person could read his mind if he thought hard enough? Otherwise communication would be difficult. He glanced around at them, trying to guess which one had this power, but coming up with nothing, he figured he’d just go for it.

“Hello, ladies! Would you mind telling me more about this place? I’m new!” It came out as a bunch of monosyllabic squeeks with too many consonant sounds (vs, cs, ts, and ns exclusively, though), but he was projecting it hard enough that maybe an especially psychically-receptive individual would be able to get his point if she focused.

Simone nodded her thanks before sinking her fangs into one of the small silver bags. The lycan blood, or whatever it was, trickled coolly down Simone’s throat, filling her empty stomach with the nourishment she needed to survive. ‘Thank you,” Simone would murmur after finishing the first bag, pausing at length between each word, she clearly not used to say thanks/ At least it didn’t seem as though they were going to starve her to death, Simone mused silently as she picked up the second blood bag and set her razor sharp fangs into it, easily tearing two holes from which to drink.

Amother voice pulled Simone from her thoughts, and her meal, the vampire’s gaze snapping upwards to take in the new speaker, a girl with striking, electric blue eyes and long brown hair. ‘What do you mean?” Simone spoke softly, a slight edge to her voice before she realised that that the question had not been directed at her. “Oh, my mistake," Simone muttered... her best attempt at an apology before turning her attention back to finishing her second meal. But she was interrupted again as a… well it looked like a rabbit of some sort, approached and began to make a series of squeaks. Simone frowned, staring quizzically at the thing; then she shook her head.

‘What is it saying?” Simone mused aloud, the question directed to everyone and no one at the same time. Simone studied the new arrival for several long moments, her keen carmine coloured eyes taking in its form from head to toe. It was a potential threat until Simone knew otherwise… But then again, wasn’t everyone here? Simone shook her head and took a deep breath. No; it wasn’t like that, was it? Simone was feeling better after her meal, but it was still hard to think. Why…? What had happened to her? Was she really broken? That’s what the doctors at Solomon had said, yes?

But they never had said what was wrong before they had prepped her for euthanasia. Were they going to treat her here and return her home? No, it didn’t seem that way. Simone’s expression hardened as thoughts of her home and her creators ran through her mind and a soft growl slipped from between the petite white haired female’s lips, which were now pressed together in a hard, straight line. ‘It was… her fault,” Simone hissed angrily as her confused, drug fillled mind began to slip further and the image of her creator appeared in front of her, arms crossed over her chest, staring down her nose at her project from across the table. “I already killed you,’ Simone growled as she shot to her feet, knocking her chair over in the process... ‘You’re dead! I remember!"”

Ryn raised an eyebrow at the other woman. She'd have thought it was obvious that "what happened to your eye?" was addressed at the one person at the table with an obvious eye injury. Though it looked like her eyes were an unusual colour as well. Red had never a popular colour for eye modifications; something about being untrustworthy. Ryn wasn't sure. It wasn't her colour, so she'd never bothered with it, and that had been that.

Perhaps she was used to people commenting on her eyes. Yes, it was probably that, she thought wryly. It couldn't possibly be because she was a basket case who thought people were talking to her when they weren't, not at all.

She was interrupted by a rabbit landing on the table. Its colouring didn't look natural; it looked more like the custom-engineered pets she'd seen on the inner worlds. It was amazing how much rich people with money to burn would pay for rabbits with pink fur or cone-shaped bodies.

Is this a mental hospital or a zoo?

The rabbit began squeaking. At the same time something began "pinging" her energy fields, for want of a better word. There was a pattern to them, she realised: each tap was part of a set of others, each set corresponded to a general idea...

{Excitement! Curiosity.elaboration?}

...that told her nothing. Maybe she'd just...talk to it. Like it was a person. Though with her luck it would turn out to be a biological surveillance device or something along those lines which would hack her mind. God, if this continued she'd end up just as crazy as everyone else here.

"My name is Ryn," she said clearly. "This is some kind of mental hospital. I don't know anything else; I only just got here." She turned to the other two at the table, about to ask them what they made of it, when the white-haired woman stood up abruptly, knocking her chair over.

When she opened her mouth, Ryn realised the woman was much crazier than she'd thought.

That wouldn't do. She laid a hand on the woman's shoulder. Disrupt brain functions for a bit, allow hospital staff to do the rest–

Ryn froze as the woman's biology snapped into her consciousness. It was different; every part operating at a much higher efficiency than any human she'd encountered. Her first thought was that she'd miscalculated terribly, that another one like her was in this place...

Her next thought, immediately after the first, was that she couldn't influence it.

But she could still shape herself.

The auxiliary mouths grew from her fingers, teeth lengthening as she added keratin from her nails. They stabbed into the woman's skin. Not sharp enough to do serious harm, but maybe enough to bring her to her senses.

"Everyone knows that," she yelled. "Now snap out of it. Can't you see how ridiculous you look?"