石田 雨竜 ➳ Ishida Uryū (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
repelling) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2013-05-06 02:33 pm
repelling) wrote in damned_institute2013-05-06 02:33 pm
Night 70: M1-M10 Hallway
After exchanging radio numbers, Uryuu picked at the salad in relative silence. Once sure he really couldn't be bothered with another bite, he set about arranging his things for the night. The sound of the intercom stirred his attention, and he looked up, waiting for the static. As ever, a nice addition to the atmosphere. He could still appreciate that, despite himself.
Grateful, indeed. Nook or cranny probably referred to the newly found passage in the library, which stirred Uryuu's curiosity further. Tomorrow, perhaps, unless Kratos-san did the unexpected and really did call. The very thought had his mouth curling with dry amusement, which failed to reach his eyes, narrowing with irritation. The doctor's spiel was the usual, and yet...
"Someday," he groused, "I'm going to put an arrow in that man's throat."
Uryuu said it, but did not swear -- not to his pride as a Quincy, not to anything. Not because he doubted he could, but because it wouldn't be practical in the moment. Much as he would aim to maim, not kill, to make speaking impossible, that would be a problem. They would want him to speak, after all.
As gratifying as imagining that future was, it only wasted time in the moment. The door unlocked, and almost simultaneously, Uryuu felt the pressure of the spirit particles filling the air. He reached, seeking Inoue-san, and felt nothing like. Pressing his teeth together, he nodded to Tsurugi-kun (expecting him off) and stood, to set about changing into the uniform. It was an obnoxious thing to have to choose, but unfortunately, better than the sweater and ill-fitting pants he'd be forced to wear during the day. Placing the toy radio in his pocket alongside the key ring and two pens, he lifted his pillowcase turned bag(with its two sweatshirts, journal, and his room radio) and slid it over his shoulder.
Wasteful as it was, he left the bat in the closet. Vantas-kun seemed to have disappeared as well, and it had never properly gotten to Inoue-san. Tonight it would just get in the way. Ready, he started into and down the hall, clutching his flashlight switched off.
[ to here ]
Grateful, indeed. Nook or cranny probably referred to the newly found passage in the library, which stirred Uryuu's curiosity further. Tomorrow, perhaps, unless Kratos-san did the unexpected and really did call. The very thought had his mouth curling with dry amusement, which failed to reach his eyes, narrowing with irritation. The doctor's spiel was the usual, and yet...
"Someday," he groused, "I'm going to put an arrow in that man's throat."
Uryuu said it, but did not swear -- not to his pride as a Quincy, not to anything. Not because he doubted he could, but because it wouldn't be practical in the moment. Much as he would aim to maim, not kill, to make speaking impossible, that would be a problem. They would want him to speak, after all.
As gratifying as imagining that future was, it only wasted time in the moment. The door unlocked, and almost simultaneously, Uryuu felt the pressure of the spirit particles filling the air. He reached, seeking Inoue-san, and felt nothing like. Pressing his teeth together, he nodded to Tsurugi-kun (expecting him off) and stood, to set about changing into the uniform. It was an obnoxious thing to have to choose, but unfortunately, better than the sweater and ill-fitting pants he'd be forced to wear during the day. Placing the toy radio in his pocket alongside the key ring and two pens, he lifted his pillowcase turned bag(with its two sweatshirts, journal, and his room radio) and slid it over his shoulder.
Wasteful as it was, he left the bat in the closet. Vantas-kun seemed to have disappeared as well, and it had never properly gotten to Inoue-san. Tonight it would just get in the way. Ready, he started into and down the hall, clutching his flashlight switched off.
[ to here ]
no subject
He shoved the little radio into his pocket, which left his hands free for his flashlight and the net containing his ball. Strictly speaking, he shouldn't have been using the ball quite yet, but he felt a little better having it hang at his side—he'd have a much easier time defending himself like this, with or without his abilities. Especially since at this point, he was confident his raw kick power would do him much better good than exhausting his spiritual aura again. There was something uncomfortable about how he couldn't seem to connect with Lancelot here, not for the lack of power, but for what that power represented. ... Powerful wishes. The things you wanted to protect. But that couldn't be helped for now, so instead, he'd have to rely on physical strength.
... The boy shook his head. He needed to get moving, not waste any time thinking to himself. With a nod to his roommate, he made his way into the hall, and started off on the walk to the second floor.
[skipping to here]