stop_the_rain: (aw fuck)
Murphy Pendleton ([personal profile] stop_the_rain) wrote in [community profile] damned_institute2012-06-20 05:07 pm

Night 64: M41-M50 Hallway

Murphy wasn't able to control his knee jerk reaction to the static, gripping his desk chair as the lights went out and bracing for an attack he quickly realized wasn't about to come. And the Big Doc's voice carried on, bringing back unpleasant memories for the ex-con. He frowned, uncomfortable, not sure what to think or how to take the message....

He knew all too well what it was to turn into a monster.

When the computer system fell to some sort of electronic epileptic fit, Murphy just shook his head. Flashlight in one hand and chair in the other, he headed out into the hallway. He'd trust Harvey's assertion that there were plenty of directions to go, and trust his own luck he'd find one. There wasn't much else that he could do.

And maybe he'd find someone who needed help. He'd managed to keep Nina safe last night. That was more than he'd ever managed in Silent Hill. That was a good sign, wasn't it? And against all odds he was alive, and as long as he was alive he had the power to change his own fate.

Or so he kept telling himself as he ventured out into the far-more-active darkness of the institute.
skeletonenigma: (darkfirewind)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2012-06-21 06:21 am (UTC)(link)
Well, the new announcement was... schizophrenic, to say the least.

By the time Skulduggery's conversation with the Scarecrow of Oz - and he didn't mind taking another moment to fully appreciate how bizarre that sentence was, even for him - had finished, and the intercom crackled with what sounded like someone hacking into the frequency, the former skeleton's head was properly spinning. It sounded like everyone who was sick during the day had nothing but bad news to look forward to, just like Skulduggery predicted. It also sounded like there was a cure. Good for them. He just hoped someone would have the decency to make sure as many people got it as possible.

The hacking of the intercom also suggested that someone in a position of power was trying to help. Once again, good for them. Skulduggery, for his part, had the thick coat from the wardrobe on and the slippers off before the wonderful feeling of magic at his fingertips returned to him. Ignoring the flashlight and radio he had found earlier that evening, Skulduggery bid the Scarecrow a somewhat hasty farewell, and stepped out into the hallway.

Let's see what he could get done in less than an hour this time.
skeletonenigma: (Default)

[personal profile] skeletonenigma 2012-06-21 06:28 am (UTC)(link)
[To here.]
scarefaux: ([incredulous])


[personal profile] scarefaux 2012-07-03 06:47 pm (UTC)(link)
With a farewell nod to his new roommate, the Scarecrow remained in the room a while longer, trying to stifle the lingering concerns on his mind: if Skulduggery would be okay out there, if his arm really was as bad as he was starting to think it might be, if he'd ever see Depth Charge again. That ache ran through his chest again as he thought of his now-missing friend; it was accompanied by an idea that itched at the back of his mind, one he was sure would give him answers. He went to his closet, digging through the items in the bottom of it and pulling out his two-way radio. Nervousness bit at him as his finger slid over the button, his mouth feeling like it was full of sand as quiet fear stirred in his middle. He had to know.

He pressed the button and spoke into the device. "Depth Charge?"

No sooner had he spoken did he hear something, but it wasn't what he was expecting- it was neither silence nor Depth Charge's voice, but his own emanating from his closet. Setting his radio aside, he looked for the source, finding it in his box of possessions- the other radio, the one belonging to Depth Charge. The Scarecrow fell back, settling on the floor on his rear. That solidified the truth he'd been denying in his mind. He'd never been given the other radio, which meant that what he dreaded had come to pass. Depth Charge, his dearest friend in Landel's, was gone. If one who had stood so tall and been so strong could fall to the tricks and bewitchments Wizard Landel had at his disposal, then what luck would a former strawman have?

He coughed as his eyes trailed to his arm and to the rash that was there, itching all the way through the bandages as it crept up the limb. Well... what happened to Depth Charge couldn't be helped now. He had to keep moving, keep trying. He couldn't be sure of why he was still there while his friends disappeared- he just was, which meant it was up to him. There'd be no saving Depth Charge or any of his fallen friends if he vanished, too.

[To here.]
Edited 2012-07-04 17:24 (UTC)