Room 324, All Day Sunday

[vanillajello]

Kate was still comatose, and everything in room 324 was the same as it had been on Saturday.

Well. Not everything. The letter was still on the bedside table, but less prominently displayed, now that it had served its purpose. Also? Kate seemed to be wearing a slightly different top than she had the day before, but who remembers those kinds of little details, huh? Not the costume department, that’s for sure.

Anyway, her clothes weren't the important thing here. The important thing was that she was still oblivious to the world around her.

And that she still looked pretty. Prettier than you'd expect coma victims to be, even.


[ooc: Open door, open post, same deal as yesterday. ILU guys. And my soap has continuity errors.]

Comments

[living_endless]

As guilty as it made her feel, Deirdre was grateful to hear Kate was comatose. It made it easier to get access to the secret closet between their rooms without causing suspicion.

Letting herself in, she went over to Kate's bedside to drop a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sorry to do this to you," she whispered. "I always loved you like a sister, even when you seduced Jonothon while I was kidnapped by a cult. But, well, things change, and I'm sure no one will suspect me if the -- things -- are in your room. And no one can punish a girl in a coma. If you were awake you'd forgive me."

She kissed the girl again and went to open the secret hatch, stashing three large leather briefcases before closing the door. "Goodbye, Kate. Goodbye and thank you."

[decoder-rings.livejournal.com]

It was infinitely more difficult to be in this place, to be around all these fresh smelling young people and to know that he had to be careful so as to not arouse suspicion.

Coming upon someone that was just asking for his bite, that was just laid out for him was too much for Hannibal to resist. He stepped forward, eyes darkening and fangs emerging. He leaned down to sink his teeth into that neck and...

...promptly lost his balance, sending him tumbling to the floor and banging his face into the side of the bed. That hurt. And it made noise which sent Hannibal, cloak and all, fleeing into the hall and away from the scene.

[ihavenocodename.livejournal.com]

"I know we never really--" Jean sniffled prettily in a way that only implied crying without showing something that could ruin her make up. "--connected after the thing with Bobby's goldmine and the natives therein. But I just wanted you to know... he might be the father of my unborn child. Or Kyle. Or Thor. Possible Jonothon. Or Alex. I don't know. But I do know that Bobby is the most likely one."

There was an overly exaggerated stifled sob there. "I'm so sorry, Kate. I never meant to hurt you like this. Love was just too strong a force to resist!"

Jean turned away, pacing toward the window to look out at nothing. "But you'll never know this. Someday... you'll wake up and the child will already be born and no one will ever know. I swear this."

[yakkoyaks.livejournal.com]

Sometimes there was a confession so great that it could only be made with a giant wheel by a puppy-like thing that wasn't actually acting any stranger than normal.

All of which is leadup to saying that Yakko ran into Kate's room and suddenly stopped.

"It's that time again!" After a brief pause he continued, as if addressing someone who wasn't there. "No, it's time to learn the day's lesson! And to find out what it is, we turn to... The Wheel of Morality!" Yakko motioned towards the door, where a large wheel with 'The Wheel of Morality' written on it in huge letters drifted in.

"Wheel of Morality, turn, turn, turn," Yakko recited as he spun the wheel. "Tell us the lesson that we should learn." As the spinning wheel slowed down and landed on the number 8, a sheet of paper was printed from a slot on the side. Yakko went to his next line as he grabbed the sheet of paper. "Moral Number Eight. And the moral of today's story is... Nanoscopic metals are commonly added to certain soaps specifically for both coloration and anti-bacterial properties."

Yakko shrugged, darted out of the room, and the wheel disappeared out into the hallway a moment later.

[heromaniac]

She'd known for some time, had found the birth certificates and the newspaper clippings. Everything had led her here, to this town. To this very floor.

Yomoko sat in a chair by the bed. It didn't matter that she didn't know the girl. She visited because maybe, just maybe, this girl had answers. Was this her sister? The one stolen from the hospital the very night of their birth by the desperate nurse who wanted a child of her own but had suffered a miscarriage because of an alcohol addiction?

Or maybe her other sister? The one that had been taken by their mother and was now somewhere in federal protective custody after witnessing a brutal murder when they were toddlers?

"Please," She asked quietly, wanting more than anything to have the other girl awaken. "I need to know."

It was hard to be so alone and unnoticed. A single tear fell from Yomoko's eye as she watched the comatose girl continue to sleep.