damned_institute | NIGHT 65: SOCCER/RECREATIONAL FIELD

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NIGHT 65: SOCCER/RECREATIONAL FIELD

[From here.]

Well, it was definitely winter. No snow or anything, but the noticeable drop in temperature made Riley glad for the extra layers he'd gone back to get. He should have tried to find a pair of gloves or something while he was at it; his hands were already freezing.

It was jarring to walk out from so much crazy onto a perfectly normal soccer field, white goalposts at either end and everything. Riley couldn't help laughing a little as he looked around, a slightly unsure laugh that was more a hope for normalcy than it was a sign of it. "Look! Soccer!" He turned back towards the building, and his face fell as the stark white walls revealed nothing familiar. "In a totally generic, big... place. Great."

When the beam of his flashlight fell back on the other guy, Riley managed to mentally snap himself out of it. "Sorry, you were saying? About another reason to stay in the dark?"

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How much do you blame Hollywood for? Uryuu was tempted to retort, but it would have been in jest, even lightened the mood. Not that he was all that attached to keeping things so grim and foreboding, but as he still had a few sobering details to cover, he chose to stay focused.

It helped that answering a protest with indifferent silence did have a suitable effect.

The guy pulled ahead, and as Uryuu followed him outside, he supposed they ought to exchange names. The air hit cold, but not as cold as that night with Kratos-san (yesterday?) when he had been so foolish. His hands curled against it, but with his two (technically three) shirts, he resisted a sweatshirt for the moment. The man's movements seemed - very nearly carefree, making Uryuu all the more wary, tensing as he scanned the field, the walls. Having only peeked out last time, mostly confirming the field and stars, he had not paid much mind to the building past the field. A shed?

Without looking away, "Did Hollywood tell you to expect something a little more garish?" Oops, there it was, with a not so small curve to his lips.

Instead of answering the question, he kept to task. The reason he'd had them step out. He looked up, drawing out the movement. The sky was clear, the moon not half-full but the stars helping. Strange patterns.

"Tell me, are you any good in a fight?"

"What?" Riley took a few steps closer, letting the flashlight beam fall back down towards the grass. "Oh. No, I was just... I thought I might recognize something, like a... sign, or a logo." Didn't hospitals usually have signs and logos? Something like the Massachusetts Primary Care Facility, or the Happy Smiley-Face Hospital? Of course, the only proof Riley had about the whole 'hospital' part was part of the rantings of a crazy person, so-

He froze at the question, only just remembering that he was still with said crazy person. Uh-oh. "Um."

The man didn't look particularly threatening, but that was definitely a threatening question. Wasn't it? What was Riley supposed to do, run? The entire field was walled in; he wouldn't get very far. And while the guy couldn't be any older than 20, that didn't give Riley any extra chance. Even kids could be martial arts masters.

"That depends on what you mean by 'fight,'" he finally answered, deciding to see if he could talk his way out of this. "'Cause you know, if I'm fighting for my life - well, if anyone's fighting for their life, really - they can get pretty vicious. And I'm... I'm small, so I have the advantage of speed. But..." He sighed. Really? "Short answer? Not so good. I'm mostly used to running."

He was going to die, wasn't he? And he wasn't even going to get to find out where.

Ah, a logo. A pleasantly practical thought, and Uryuu nodded with approval. Unfortunately for logic, Landel's failed to oblige with certain standards of hospital normality. Such as floor maps, marked exits, the like.

Perhaps tomorrow he should suggest they implement fire drills.

Lifting his hand, he plucked at his shirt, specifically at the yellow smiley face. "This would be your logo. Creative, isn't it? As for the sign... this is the back of the building, remember."

As alert as he was to any sudden movements, he did not miss how still the other guy went. That, and his delaying Um, told Uryuu he probably should have rethought his approach once again. However striking a scene it might have been to stand beneath the distorted night sky, coolly asking if this stranger could fight, well... any reasonable person could piece together what this guy had been already confronted with, and assume things were about to get ugly.

Uryuu stared as the guy went on, trying to hone in on the content rather than get hung up on his exasperation that he might really be suspected of being half a second from going for his throat. His hand now shifted to jerkily push at his glasses.

"I see. Then- for the, I'm not going to attack you. Why not do in the hall?"

He'd been doing so well, really. Been keeping quite cool, quite composed. Now his frustration finally boiled over, lacing through his words and leaving him scowling.

"Have you even looked up yet? Maybe you don't know enough about astronomy. Look, I know how this sounds. I know how I look. It doesn't matter what you believe, because one way or another you'll get there, but I'm not the sort of person who can just let someone walk away unprepared."

A breath, as getting so palpably annoyed right after sounding so dangerous probably didn't help his case. He reached up to shove his flashlight into his makeshift pillow bag, held up his hands as if in surrender, and took a few steps back.

"My name is Ishida Uryuu, and think what you want, but I swear I'm not lying." He would swear on his pride as a Quincy that he spoke the truth, but doubtless this guy had no idea what a Quincy was. "By all means, run for the exit. It's down that hall, and another, then left once you've hit the main. There's an entrance room with a lock that gives with enough pressure. If the thought of leaving you alone wasn't so pathetic, I'd have gone that way myself; there are file rooms there."

He swept an arm toward the door. "Go ahead. But if all you can do is run, and you haven't anything else, you'll run into trouble. There are things in there and things out here. Like a bad Hollywood horror flick. That isn't even the most annoying part, but it's what you should focus on right now. You need a weapon. If only,"

Here he rolled his eyes. Hard.

"To be prepared to hit me with it. What sort of things would you expect to find in a shed beside a sports field?"

Edited (that icon was too RAR >>) 2012-08-24 03:16 (UTC)

As wary as Riley was - and he did take a few stumbling steps back when the guy started sounding annoyed - he couldn't help feeling offended when his intelligence was called into question. He didn't know much about astronomy, true, but that didn't make him an idiot. He could find the Big Dipper. Just to prove his point, Riley did look up into the heavens, sweeping his flashlight up as if the modicum of light would somehow help in his search.

... Well, okay. He couldn't find it right away. But maybe it was harder to see in the winter. Maybe the stars that formed its soup ladle just weren't that bright tonight, for whatever reason.

Surprisingly enough, being told exactly where the exit was didn't make Riley any more anxious to reach it. If anything, it rooted him to the spot. Insane people weren't supposed to be reasonable. They weren't supposed to make sense, or acknowledge their own insanity. They weren't supposed to act all threatening, and then immediately back off with an offer of help, however angrily it was offered. It was obvious now that the two of them were in the same boat, what with the smiley-face logos on their clothes, which meant... which meant Ishida must have woken up here just as suddenly as Riley. Maybe he'd been here longer, or had more experience, but he didn't belong here any more than Riley did.

Riley was willing to trust that, at least. For the time being.

His voice was shaking as he turned to look at the shed. "Soccer balls. Maybe goal nets, or... baseball bats." But this was a hospital, wasn't it? "Safety gear."

The shed was tall, white, and creaking, even in the lack of wind. Like a bad Hollywood horror flick. Riley eyed it like the doors could fly open at any moment to reveal a ghost, or a bloodthirsty pack of dogs. "What do you mean, there are things? What kind of things?"

Despite his miniature outburst, (more a brief snapping, but no less immature, really, to his shame as the emotion passed, as it had not changed that skepticism was reasonable, that he had not been entirely clear in wanting to help), the other guy had not run straight for the exit. One possible reason: why trust his word? He could have left him, anyway, but instead he listened, even gauged the sky.

Seemed to process, to do more than humor it. As counter-intuitive as it was to think it a sign of intelligence to be willing to consider all this madness, this place left little alternative.

Uryuu would not admit to feeling bad at the way the guy's voice shook when he finally spoke, because he did not, because how could he? None of this was his fault. Really, the man was holding up pretty well. Waking up as he had did necessitate a certain suspension of disbelief, but that could only go so far.

Another nod at the list of possible contents for the shed. Balls would be useless (unless this guy had a good arm, and there were baseballs), and they could not count on bats; not in a mental hospital. Maybe plastic or foam, and that would hardly slow down a monster. In terms of corporeal, damage causing hostiles, Uryuu had only encountered roaches- mutated, over-sized roaches, but only roaches. (Another reason to believe more time had passed: his injuries were gone, both the toxic bite from the insects and his bow torn fingers were mended, without mark). He'd heard about the rest, and "only roaches" wasn't much of a reassurance when they were as dangerous as they were, and when a plastic bat wouldn't even crush their undersides.

"Right," he said, "Should we take a look?"

Safety gear could be useful. Maybe a net, too; it might slow something down. Already walking over to the shed, Uryuu stayed off the grass, taking the longer way around, closer to the walls. All that open space felt too exposed. The man's last question was a good one, but not easily answered.

"I introduced myself, remember. It's rude not to reply in same. ...but, I haven't seen as much, just-" he admitted as he stopped in front of the door, peering through the dark. Looked like a lock, and he reached to take hold of it, giving it a good yank. Rust rubbed rough on his palm, and it felt weak. No point in pulling out his flashlight (though the cold was beginning to make a sweatshirt sound tempting) when the guy had his.

Uryuu gestured. "Shine some light, please? It might give with a good blow."

The lock in the Entry Room had been similar, and released after a strike from the hilt of Kratos-san's sword. Perhaps it might yield to being picked as well, but that was one skill he had yet to teach himself. Plus, all he had that might fit were pens -- and their caps.

Edited (onger longer longer!!) 2012-08-25 00:15 (UTC)

"For what?" Riley asked as Ishida began walking around the field. "For a weapon? In a shed?" When Ishida showed no signs of slowing down, Riley quickly jogged after him, a tad nervous that they weren't cutting directly across the grass. It was a small hint of unnecessary caution that immediately set his teeth on edge. "And you still haven't told me what I need a weapon for."

Did he want to know? With his luck, probably not. But Riley was determined to survive whatever this was, and that meant being prepared, and that meant knowing what they were up against. You couldn't even begin to form a plan until you knew what would be standing in your way. Basics of hacking, really.

He stopped when they reached the door of the shed, careful to keep a few feet farther back than Ishida was. He did, however, shine the flashlight onto the lock when it was asked for. "I'm Riley," he finally introduced himself, ignoring the lock for the moment. "Riley Poole, actually. You might recognize that name from the papers, or..." A long shot, maybe, but Riley really was beginning to grow desperate. "A book, about the Templar Treasure? See, I wrote..."

His voice trailed off as he finally realized exactly what kind of lock bolted the doors shut. "Oh, come on. You don't even need to hit that. It's practically falling apart." Caution forgotten, Riley stepped closer and knelt down to examine it. "I can open this. Would you happen to have something long and thin, like a... bobby pin, or something?"

"No," Uryuu retorted, "I thought we could play a game of football. Unfortunately, I haven't heard of a supply closet called 'ILLOGICAL BUT CONVENIENT WEAPONRY'. Some have gotten their hands on swords, others have different abilities." Himself included. "You, you'll have to make do."

"I did tell you," he went on, sticking to the technicality to avoid having to say the whole of it. Not that he could for much longer. The guy had stuck around this long, outright saying monsters -- however much he'd already implied it -- might not push him over the edge. "Things."

Pulling his attention from the lock when Riley introduced himself, he lifted his eyebrows at the assertion that his name should be recognizable. Papers or a book. There was no reason to doubt it; although it could have been a badly-written mess, on the surface, he could give Poole-san a little more credit. "Templar Treasure? I've never heard of it."

He again reached to adjust his glasses, tone thoughtful. "It sounds like a big enough deal that even Japan would have reported it. Therefore, it's probably the case that... well, another thing you aren't going to believe. I'll get to that."

Again, surprise showed, here widening his eyes as Poole-san claimed he could handle it without force. Always the preferred option, when the option existed.

"No," he said, off-guard and thus speaking his thoughts more than he might otherwise have, "and I haven't had a chance to acquire sewing supplies yet. I do have- it's not as thin as a bobby pin-"

The end of arm of his glasses was a bit thicker than the pen cap's extension, and he wasn't about to offer his pendant, thus he fished into his pocket for a pen, pulled off the cap and offered it. He also held out his other hand, to take the flashlight.

"If that's too thick, I could try pulling straight the key ring."

Riley decided, while he was staring at the pen cap lid, that he was going to have a stern word with himself later on for not thinking of things like this before he left his room. Sure, he hadn't been expecting to break into anywhere, but... well. From now on, he'd make sure to bring his own little lockpicking device wherever he went.

"No, that'll work," Riley assured him, accepting the pen cap and handing Ishida the flashlight. "I've never tried it with plastic before, but... the basic principle should be the same." He snapped off the little plastic extension without much trouble - one benefit of not having metal to work with - and turned towards the lock.

"Okay, first of all," he finally retorted as he pushed the makeshift lockpick through the keyhole, "how can you not have heard of the Templar treasure? The Knights Templar, and the treasure no one man should ever own?" He gently twisted the lockpick clockwise as he spoke. "Or that it was found three years ago? That definitely should have been reported in Japan." The lock gently clicked open, but Riley didn't let on that it had worked just yet. "And yeah, okay, scary things, I get it. But there are different levels of scary. Is it just slap-on-the-wrist scary, or... like, 'Silent Hill' scary?"

The thought froze Riley to the spot. "We're not in Silent Hill, are we?"

Taking and holding the flashlight, Uryuu bent forward - just a little, not enough to impede - to attempt and have a better look. As if watching someone jab plastic into a hole and wiggle it could tell much. Maybe it wouldn't for most, but Uryuu had always been very good with his hands, so he paid attention to Poole-san's. Wrists, fingers, every shift and twist. He would still have to ask, and almost did, but Poole-san had returned to the topic of treasure.

Not just any treasure, apparently, the Templar Treasure, Templar Knights, of course he had heard of the Poor Fellow-Soldiers of Christ and of the Temple of Solomon, of- "Oh."

The light wobbled as he almost dropped it in his surprise, as he stopped a disgruntled hand to his face at having forgotten. His interest in reading of the military orders of the medieval ages, beyond for history's sake, had been in trying to trace the Quincy -- it had been a nice idea, the Quincy actually having been knights, to a kid. Mantles! Crosses! It all fit! Except for the actual purpose, and thus dramatic contradictions in what they actually did. A disappointment, but it had been wishful thinking anyway, which had somehow been more worth attending than-

"That legend," he said, and resisted noticing the irony of a boy who saw and fought ghosts, who had once tried to find evidence that such ghost archers had once been part of such an order, dismissing the conspiracy theory of secret treasure. "I assume you played a part in finding it."

In another world or time, he added to himself. Poole-san's hands had stopped moving. "Not as far as I'm aware," and that plain, matter-of-fact, not sarcastic at all.

If they could be taken from worlds, obviously they could be taken to worlds, and the theme would fit. Uryuu couldn't even afford a cell phone; he'd never played the game. A few images that didn't quite match up.

"Have you finished?"

Riley had almost meant the Silent Hill question as a joke. The fact that it wasn't taken as such... that, more than anything so far tonight, was what scared him half to death. He turned to look at Ishida, hoping to see a smile or some sign that the teenager had been joking right back, but there was nothing.

Riley's blood ran cold. It was enough to make him forget any of the prideful replies he had about playing a part in finding one of the most influential historical treasures of all time. It was enough to make him forget his well-worn sadness as yet another person probably knew the name Ben Gates, but had no clue who Riley was.

Silent Hill was fiction. Fiction. There was no way anything from that freak show could be here. Monsters didn't exist.

"Oh," was all he could manage when Ishida's question cut through his reverie. "Uh, yeah. Piece of cake." He tried to smile. Hopefully, it worked, but he stared straight ahead when he pushed open the double doors to the shed, just in case.

"You know," he said, refusing to step into the total darkness just yet, "I almost forgot for a moment that I'm stuck in a creepy nowhere place that drugs people." Riley didn't bother trying to smile this time when he took a step back. "After you."

It might have comforted Poole-san to know that Uryuu had also never heard of "Ben Gates", but the reassurance could not be given, clueless as he was to the issue. Or non-issue, as it were, in the face of the situation here. Uryuu could see that his answer had bothered Poole-san, or at least silenced him, but he found it odd that it had. No, not so odd upon further reflection.

The guy had been swallowing more and more of this, and his disturbance showed. Silent Hill may seem silly concept, an inane comparison, but if there was even a hint of reality to it, all humor would necessarily be drained.

It wasn't a bad go at a smile. Uryuu did not return it, but there was no severity in his expression, instead a mild curiosity. "I may ask you to show me sometime."

Poole-san stood and opened the doors, which creaked loud and hideous, the entire structure seeming to shake and sway with it. Uryuu swept the light over the innards as Poole-san spoke. A little less than five meters long, less than four wide. Not very big, and still but for the unsteady walls. From the door he couldn't make out much of the corners, what might lurk beyond the racks and shelves. The size might be an issue. Distance helped with the bow.

Those bats looked unexpectedly promising. Certainly not foam or plastic.

"Really?" he finally said, turning to the man with a twin twist of his lips, "I must be very good company." If he could forget. He bit back a line calling into question Poole-san's courage, as given the build up, it would be absurd to send him in first.

"Guide the way," he instructed, handing back the flashlight before he walked inside.

[ to disney land ]

Edited (SMALL TAG SORRY) 2012-08-26 01:44 (UTC)

[From here.]

The Anti-Form had found fresh air, the expanse of the outside and the dark sky overhead. There was a whole world to explore, full of hearts, and yet for some reason it felt it should stay close to this place. There were already so many easy targets right here, so moving further outward didn't seem necessary.

But the Heartless did sense one thing, which was some prey -- two hearts -- a bit further away. But there was already another creature dealing with them, and so it would have to move on and find its own targets.

As there wasn't much else to do on the dark field, Sora shifted back toward the building, entering through a different door than the one he'd left from.

[To here.]

Edited 2012-08-27 18:50 (UTC)

[From here]

Hakkai stayed close to the door once through it - he hadn't been out here at night before, and with this place, it was hard to tell what could change.

Gren followed through the door and then paused to take a look around, himself. It was quiet and empty and a little bit on the spooky side, but nothing seemed out of place, and he couldn't hear anything suspicious, which meant it was likely as safe as anything ever was around this place.

That said, he kept his voice low as he turned back to Hakkai. "We have to get over the wall." He pointed off to his right at the wall dividing this yard from the courtyard. "There's a door to the cafeteria there. Think you can manage?" Hakkai was a little shorter than he was--most people were--but he doubted it would pose much of an obstacle, as it really wasn't all that high.

Hakkai surveyed the wall. If he hadn't had that spell of lightheadedness earlier, he'd be able to genuinely say that it was no problem. He could hold off Goku, after all, even as a human - and the thought of his friends sent a pang of sadness through him - but at least they weren't here to witness him breaking down.

But even accounting for his tiredness, he was pretty sure he could manage that wall, so he gave Gren a reassuring smile. "I should be fine."

"All right. No point in waiting around, then," he replied, walking over to the wall. He tossed his shovel over first, doing away with the awkwardness involved in trying to carry it before going to scale it himself. With his height, it was no problem a all to get a grip on the top of it and then haul himself up. It also gave him a moment to survey the other side.

[To here]

Edited 2012-09-01 01:40 (UTC)

[ annnd we're back ]

The doors settled, at least for the moment, Uryuu turned around. He turned with aplomb, as if utterly calm, as if unable to hear the terrible sounds still filtering through the wood, walking toward where the moonlight glint on the dropped bat. What belied his smooth indifference: the odd angle at which he held his arm from his body, allowing the great, branching shape of his bow.

The creature could be stronger than it looked, able to break down the doors. Or able to burn through the wall. Perhaps it could burn down the entire shed, and wouldn't that make for an interesting experiment? To see if it still stood or bore any evidence of such vandalism the next day? Yes, it could still pose a threat, and such a commotion could have drawn other things. The bow stayed.

Yet, even with that precaution, he remained oblivious to the movement above. Poole-san had said something; he processed it now, and made no effort to resist this:

"I did tell you," as he bent, taking hold of the bat, "you've gone mad."

Riley was running out of reactions.

Of course, of course, the universe would continue to mock him. Just as Riley was mentally scoffing at the charade of shooting an arrow at whatever was hissing, the imaginary arrow pierced it. Riley stumbled a few more steps back at the inhuman screech coming from the shed, suddenly wary of Ishida on a whole new level, and without the first clue what to do about it. Ishida wasn't just crazy, he was... he could apparently shoot things with his mind.

Still frozen, still in a daze, Riley watched Ishida lock the shed doors against the screech and walk over, looking for all the world like he'd just commented on the weather, all nonchalant and calm like he hadn't just done the impossible. Like all he'd done was what anyone else would have. It reminded Riley of Ben. What didn't remind Riley of Ben was how Ishida was holding his arm, exactly as if he was holding a giant bow.

"That..." Riley tried. "That was... what was that?" He was indicating the shed, and not even really sure himself what he was referring to - the screech, whatever had caused it, or whatever Ishida did to make it do that.

It was too bad aquilas were such rude creatures. They didn't care much to wait for a meal to finish talking before they descended upon it. Time and opportunity were just too precious to squander on proper etiquette.

Banking across the dark sky, one of the large birds finally descended with its razor-sharp claws poised. They came ready to stun its innocent prey, to tear off whatever untainted flesh they could get a hold of. This first strike was the most important. It only got one shot to catch its delectable quarry off guard.

"Which part?" Uryuu returned, raising his eyebrows.

His mouth still open, he would have continued, explaining each. He didn't know what the creature was, except that it looked like a salamander and oozed and burned. It had clearly produced the sound. That he had pierced it with an arrow; his aim inexcusably poor in that he had only hit the tail.

He would have said all that, and probably quite a bit more, if not for the interruption. Another inexcusable thing: how long it took him to notice. He should have looked up, accounted for the sky. He should have, but he didn't, and it was only by a fluke that he caught it peripherally. Lifting the bat, he was again examining its weight as he gathered his explanation, and beginning to reach back to try and stuff it in his case.

In tilting his head, he noticed. A funny irony, one he did not pause to appreciate: the last winged creature he had faced, he had rudely interrupted with an attack. She had chided him, but he wouldn't have the chance, or waste the words on it. Nor did he have the time to regret his mistake. It was almost upon him, and though he made to step back, hissing damn, to deflect with the bat and also bring up the bow (as if it was a shield, and she had also crowed at him that it wasn't, and it certainly wouldn't hold up now, as weak as it was in this place), he braced himself because he knew:

It was too late.

"What do you mean, which part?" Riley wanted to be able to say that he was in shock, but after helping to kidnap the U.S President, he was pretty used to shock. Shock didn't faze him anymore. Right now, he was just panicking. "The part with the..." He faltered, trying to mime a bow and failing. "And the..." He had no idea what to mime this time, so Riley ended up jabbing his hand back towards the shed again. "The, all of it!"

He was saved from having to explain - or listen to any of the answers - when Riley finally noticed Ishida's attention on something else. That 'something else' turned out to be streaking down towards them, a giant gray bird with its claws outstretched, and Riley's brain just could not process all of the sudden terror at once; it shut down. In retrospect, maybe that was a good thing. Reacting purely on instinct this time, Riley dropped the flashlight, gripped the wooden bat with both hands, and swung towards the creature as hard as he could.

His eyes were squeezed shut and he hadn't swung a baseball bat in ages, so what good it would do - or even whether the blow would land - Riley had no idea.

The winged beast paid no attention to its prey's accomplice. For all its threat, or lack thereof, the most pertinent instinct was to claim a pound of flesh for its efforts. If it was injured in the process, so be it. There were too many competitors and not enough supply to go around. Hanger was the only thing driving its risky attack.

As it made contact with the pure human, its giant claws tried to grabbed a hold of its shoulders. Unfortunately, all it got for its efforts was torn cloth and bloody claws as it tore cleanly through the skin. To add insult to injury, that negligible accomplice left a terrible pain in its leg. As that bat came down on both predator and prey, the delicate bones of its left leg broke with an audible crack and it ascended away in screeching pain.

THWACK.

Before Uryuu could do anything, his skull exploded, accompanied by an appropriate eruption of red light behind his eyes, and also a loud, resounding cracking sound. His readiness foiled. Ready with bat and bow to try and fight it back, to try to deflect, and still anticipating some tearing pain, ready to bite back a cry, but the double onslaught came almost simultaneously. Enormous talons ripped through him and a shock of wood crashed into his face.

His head snapped back and he staggered, almost falling over, dazed for an instant past comprehension. That Poole-san had swung his bat meaning to hit the creature, that he might have actually succeeded if one of those cracks said anything. But, his ears rang and his vision spotted and swam and his head had, in fact, clearly been knocked right off his neck. It was rolling around somewhere underfoot, and he was bound to trip over it soon.

That, or Poole-san had burst his eyeball in his skull.

He dropped his bat to clutch at his head (still on his neck), maintaining his bow subconsciously: less having the presence of mind and more extensive time training creating the reflex.

"What," he finally managed, "the hell?"

Only, once he could speak, could glare one-eyed Poole-san, he realized that he didn't have time to be complaining. His shoulder and part of his back reminded him of the larger problem (unless Poole-san had intended to do it and was preparing to hit him again), and he didn't trust that whatever Poole-san had broken in the creature would keep it away. His shoulder protested, and he winced, but he had moved and fought through worse; Uryuu positioned himself, aiming into the sky and squinting for the thing.

He paused a moment, before drawing an arrow, to right his glasses. By some stroke of incredible improbability, the lenses had not shattered, but the frames were bent and hanging from one ear. Uryuu shoved them back into place, or what was near enough to it, and looked again. Tried. His head.

"Do me a favor," he grit out, every word adding to the jackhammer pulverizing his skull. "Look before you swing."

Edited 2012-09-18 03:10 (UTC)

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NIGHT 65: SOCCER/RECREATIONAL FIELD

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