Sora (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lighthearted) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2011-02-09 12:09 pm
lighthearted) wrote in damned_institute2011-02-09 12:09 pm
Entry tags:
- battler,
- canada,
- cloud,
- dean winchester,
- goku,
- kibitoshin,
- ranulf,
- sora,
- touya,
- yuffie
Night 54: M1-M10 Hallway
Having to endure an empty room for yet another night had Sora worried. Were they not planning to give him a new roommate? He didn't know how these soldier people worked -- would they rather that patients were left in their rooms alone? That didn't make much sense, but he really didn't know what to expect anymore.
Most people would have been glad to have a room to themselves, but Sora wasn't most people. He wanted someone there who he could talk things over with while he ate his dinner. Instead, he had eaten his meal in silence, still reeling from the announcement that Landel was being replaced. It was something he would have preferred to discuss with someone else rather than dwell on alone, but he could always do that when he met up with Kairi and Riku.
That was the one good thing he had going for the moment; Sora was glad that the three of them were going to be side-by-side once more. He was particularly interested in hearing what Kairi had to say, since she'd also been here for a long time.
His dinner was interrupted by IRIS coming on, and Sora frowned when the automated voice became distorted once more. A program was being initiated? What did that mean?
He'd expected for IRIS to continue through the whole night, but soon after that a more human voice was heard. But even as Sora tried to place it, he realized that it was new, totally different from Landel's usual loud tone. But there was still a threat in those words, still a hint that something was going to happen tonight. Sora had already counted on that. With everything that had happened, how couldn't there be?
He just hoped that he and his friends could manage to get somewhere even with the odds stacked against them. Sora quickly changed from his Landel's uniform into his more familiar clothes from home and then grabbed for his flashlight (while also remembering to take Venom's copied note at the last moment; he wanted Kairi to see it too).
Once he was ready, he quietly moved out of his room and headed down the hall.
[To here.]
Most people would have been glad to have a room to themselves, but Sora wasn't most people. He wanted someone there who he could talk things over with while he ate his dinner. Instead, he had eaten his meal in silence, still reeling from the announcement that Landel was being replaced. It was something he would have preferred to discuss with someone else rather than dwell on alone, but he could always do that when he met up with Kairi and Riku.
That was the one good thing he had going for the moment; Sora was glad that the three of them were going to be side-by-side once more. He was particularly interested in hearing what Kairi had to say, since she'd also been here for a long time.
His dinner was interrupted by IRIS coming on, and Sora frowned when the automated voice became distorted once more. A program was being initiated? What did that mean?
He'd expected for IRIS to continue through the whole night, but soon after that a more human voice was heard. But even as Sora tried to place it, he realized that it was new, totally different from Landel's usual loud tone. But there was still a threat in those words, still a hint that something was going to happen tonight. Sora had already counted on that. With everything that had happened, how couldn't there be?
He just hoped that he and his friends could manage to get somewhere even with the odds stacked against them. Sora quickly changed from his Landel's uniform into his more familiar clothes from home and then grabbed for his flashlight (while also remembering to take Venom's copied note at the last moment; he wanted Kairi to see it too).
Once he was ready, he quietly moved out of his room and headed down the hall.
[To here.]
no subject
He called out tentatively to the darkness, but there was no response, and the silence of the room settled in even heavier than before. He tried again, louder this time, voice slowly getting sharper and more frantic. There had to be someone, friend, enemy, stranger, even the higher plane, but no reply ever came. This was a joke, right…?! Someone was hiding away, watching, waiting for the perfect moment to come and laugh. Well, if they wanted to do that, they should just get it over with already! Or maybe they’d realized it was something that had been taken too far and had gotten embarrassed, but in that case, don’t just leave, take some responsibility…!!
Though he hadn’t realized he’d been standing, he slumped back into a sitting position on the bed, exhaling a shaky breath. This was stupid, wasn’t it…..? The situation may have been creepy, but hadn’t he been through much, much worse? … Now wasn’t the time to start panicking like some little kid. He had to keep calm. Before anything else, maybe there was a light switch. …. Darkness had a way a shrouding things in mystery. Not only the surroundings, but also the mind. If he could just get rid of that, then maybe he could start thinking a little more clearly.
He felt around lightly, trying to get some vague sense of his surroundings in face of the low visibility, only to come into contact with something cold and metallic under the pillow. Was that.... a flashlight....? What the heck was something like that doing on a bed? ... It was convenient, at least. It felt kind of weird to be using something like that indoors, but he had to admit, it was certainly a better alternative than stumbling around in the dark. He clicked it on, shining it towards to door, only to find that the light switch he'd been looking for didn't even exist. Just great...!
The rest of the room provided nothing at all. White walls, another bed, two desks.... Sitting on the closest desk was a tray of food, probably intended for him, but it had long since grown cold. He wasn't quite sure he trusted it, given that he didn't know the origin, but maybe from the tension of waking up somewhere completely unknown, it was hard to resist the drink that accompanied it. ... A cold drink always was good for cooling off.
Rather than staying to look around more, Battler pushed open the door, stepping out into hall. What he found was .... creepy, if he were to be honest. All dark, something almost grungy about it, like a scene from some kind of horror novel. More than that, it made the realization sink in even deeper: he really did have no idea where he was. As he continued down the hall, he couldn't help but feel uncertain.
[to here]
no subject
This…was tasting more like the bad kinda funky.
Dean was a little queasy before the intercom came on, trying to decide if he was food poisoned like a wussy or not (c’mon, he would’ve liked to say he had a stronger stomach than Sam). He seriously doubted it was actual regular poisoning. Didn’t seem like the Institute’s style, something that direct. And sure, he’d tried to make a break for it from the cafeteria, but he hadn’t exactly resisted or broke a guard’s nose, so there was that, right? Dean looked up from slipping on his necklace as the intercom came on with the computerized system thing. So first the coup or whatever you wanted to call it with Martin Landel in the Sun Room, now some mystery Project 2911?
He was pretty sure he’d had a big “what the fuck” face during the whole Sun Room thing. He’d be damned if Sam didn’t have the same reaction.
So…so what, he was supposed to believe that Martin Landel had their best interests at heart? Screw that. Tell that to the folks who got chewed on every night ‘cause of all the freak spirits and plain freaky things he kept turning loose on ‘em every night. Not that Dean figured the new people were going to be much better. For one, they seemed a lot more on the ball with surveillance, so sneaking out could be better. He was sure this was the part where those doors wouldn’t open. The click of the locks proved him wrong, Dean glancing over, surprised.
Okay, so much for that idea. Dean waited, dressed and pretty much ready, for Yuffie to come by to drop the goods. He wasn’t sure what to do next. Find Sam was the obvious one. He sat propped up oby the edge of the desk, biding his time by picking at his nails with the bowie knife.
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"Knock knock!" Yuffie called, as she rapped awkwardly on the door of M2. Both of her hands were full, but in the end she'd decided to forgo knocking with her forehead (or her foot) in favor of just, you know. Adjusting her grip on the sheaf of papers. "Ninja Express, special delivery for Dean!"
What exactly a 'ninja' was, Yuffie didn't know. She had a vague yet sure feeling that it was something amazing, something special, something that she was the best at. She knew that it was why she never carried a flashlight; why wearing short shorts was practical as well as cute; why she had a short sword—wakizashi—at her hip and two knives hidden away, even with the gigantic shuriken securely in hand. She also knew that it was how she had two knives hidden away, because gawd knew that it took skill and ingenuity to hide much of anything on an outfit like the one she was wearing.
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Dean opened the door. He stared.
Yuffie was a friggen walking arsenal, and not only that, but she was old school. Was that a short sword? Who carried those? Machetes were more his thing, except staring at what she was packing, Dean wasn't thinking much of machetes. Where she even got a hugeass ninja star was beyond him. Much less how she could possibly hide that in the rooms without someone getting suspicious. Color Dean impressed. He moved to stand aside, letting Yuffie in. He wasn't too worried about a possible demon: not with the salt line around M2 or the devil's trap on the ceiling.
Fruity crayon or not.
"Overkill much?" Dean said as he walked inside M2 and turned around by the desk, hand on his him. Okay, yeah, he couldn't stop staring at the ninja star. It looked like it should be pretty heavy but either it was made out of cardboard or it must've been made of something he hadn't ever heard of for a skinny chick like that to carry it that easily.
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With unabashed curiosity, Yuffie stared around the Spartan bedroom, even as she held out the papers for Dean to take. The room wasn't any different from her own, of course; all of them were the same. But it looked like she'd made more personal touches than Dean. … 'cept for maybe that big ol'…. Uhm… symbol-thingie he'd drawn on the ceiling. She squinted up at it, tilting her head. It was like nothing she'd ever seen before, unless she'd gone and forgotten it.
… Which, given her current state of mind, wasn't as crazy dumb or way out there as it seemed.
"Say, uh, Dean…" she trailed off, shuffling her shuriken. She set it slightly behind and to the side of herself, grip relaxed—belatedly, she'd remembered how she'd done that out of 'super basic warrior courtesy' or whatever when she'd gone to visit Okita that one time. "Do you feel… Weird? Like, uh. 'Something just messed with my head'-style weird?" It was, after all, one thing to admit that there was a problem and completely another to admit that, deep down in her squishy inner center, it was... kind of troublesome...
Because she definitely wasn't scared at all. Nope. Not even a little bit.
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Dean was still trying to figure out how you could possibly lose a bigass shuriken in the first place as Yuffie got a look around. And then brought up the funky feeling.
"More like stomach but now that you mention it..." Dean trailed off. Actually, he did feel a little weird up there too, right in the back of his head, this kinda light pressure as if someone being a dick and poking him right there. What was with that? That wasn't no food poisoning, and Yuffie getting something similar. Dean moved to lean up against the desk's edge, folding his arms over his chest. "Kinda. Right here," he patted the back of his head. "What about you?"
There wasn't a real subtle, polite way to go about asking if she felt like she was gonna croak. Hell, he had less than a year but despite that, he wasn't gunning to die any time soon if he could help it. Dean focused on Yuffie, taking her in. She looked pretty healthy to him, just from a glance. Confused about something, sure, but today especially had been a big basket case. Still, if there was something in the water (or food, whatever), they should probably figure it out. Dean had to say that aside from the funky feeling, he felt...okay? He didn't much feel like he was dying himself, come to think of it.
no subject
When Dean moved to lean against his desk, Yuffie followed suit—except she made a beeline for the closet. Her instincts suggested that she open it and root around inside, but she squashed them. There'd be time for that later, preferably when he wasn't standing right there in front of her. "Uhm, well… how to put this…" she trailed off, tapping her knuckles against her chin. In the end, when a handful of seconds had ticked happily on by and serious, thoughtful words to say still hadn't come to her, Yuffie decided that her best (and only) option was to blurt: "It's… actually, it feels kind of a lot like I'm missing most of my life, probably because I am, and gawd, that's a lot of stuff to miss. I'm pretty damn sure by now that I don't remember anythin' from before I came here. To Landel's in general, I mean."
Yuffie paused to breathe, and to run the hand formerly at her chin through her hair. Saying it out-loud like that, to another person… somebody who wasn't her, somebody that wasn't something, like her shuriken… it brought a whole new level of reality to the problem. "It's better than, I dunno, spewing up blood and having three hours left to live or whatever, but… Man. It's awkward, you know?"
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"Yeah, no kidding," Dean said, snorting. Looking at her, he didn't think she was making it up. She was too fidgety and not the fake kind, either. "Okay, okay, let's back up. So the very first thing you remember is just being here, all the time? 'Cause juddging from the heat you're packing, that didn't just pop out of nowhere."
Okay, fine. Maybe he wasn't the best at giving these kind of pep talks. This was more Sam's thing, walking people through stuff. Dean was more get the answers, gank the hunt, possibly spread 'em for the hot blonde at the dive ten miles down the road, and move on. Dean shifted his weight against the desk. Wasn't exactly a nice way to put this, but he might as well get it over with:
"It's possible they could've done something to your memory. Picked out stuff. Question is if it's permanent or not," Dean added.
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She knew that she had friends from back home trapped here right alongside her. She knew that there was something… wrong, about that. Things didn't add up between them. But it was fuzzy; remembering memories of memories was like trying to hold water in cupped hands. Or, was it…? Yuffie sighed, knocking her head back against the door of the closet. All this thinking around and around in circles was gonna give her one hell of a headache, especially if she kept taking it so seriously.
"It's more than just possible, sheesh… considerin' some of the other stuff Landel and his cronies got up to, this stuff must be easy-peasy." But the idea of it being permanent—she hadn't even thought about that! Yuffie froze, trying desperately to reassure herself that despite what she'd just said aloud to Dean, no way would she be stuck like this forever; it was impossible, she'd be just fine, just wait and see; she'd have her memory back as it should be in no time at all. "Th… That… woah, that'd… kinda suck, huh… But! But, I have better things to do than stand around and worry about ifs and buts and maybes."
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"So what'd you have in mind?" Dean asked. "'Cause I was about to say that in your state, it's probably safer, but I'm not your babysitter, either."
But he didn't intend to just turn his back on her if she did decide to take off. The right thing to do was dog after her, make sure she didn't get herself killed or ran into someone who wasn't exactly real friendly. Dean could see this as being a long, long night, his eyes going over involuntarily to that big shuriken. What was that movie? Okay, it was no BB gun, but seriously, that thing could totally poke your eye out if you so much as looked at it wrong.
Dean could think of a few things she'd probably want to do. Get answers was the most obvious. Hell, he'd want to do the same thing if he was in her place, and he was sorta-kinda sure he wasn't there yet. Niggling funky feeling or not. He remembered everything here and before Landels, aside from his...supposed first time here. Okay, maybe he wasn't exactly one to talk but at least it wasn't recent like tonight recent. Dean watched Yuffie, frowning slightly.
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… And then the radio came on.
"So head away from the building if you want to chat, okay?" said the faceless voice. The words jumped out at her, practically smacking her in the face. It had been way too long since she'd last made a try for the world outside; a few days, at least.
"Away from the building," Yuffie repeated, cocking her head. "On a scale of one to dumb, that's, like, astronomically 'totally nutso why would you even think about wanting to think about that', but…" Maybe that guy would hold some answers. Maybe he'd also be a trap; a crazy guy just waiting to tear apart the first unlucky sucker who fell for his play. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be worth the risk anyway, if they could even reach him before morning fell.
Yuffie grinned at Dean. "Whaddya say? Between the two of us, we've got a pretty good chance—I may have lost a whole bunch of memories, but I still know how to take care of myself."
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For all he knew, he was. It didn’t exactly feel like anything was missing. But what the dude said on the radio made it seem like if you ate any of the food at all, you were up shit creek, so…yeah, he was just gonna hope he didn’t end up with his head exploding on some delayed timer or ending up like Yuffie. No offense. Dean frowned and then shrugged. If she was taking off outside, he was going after her. If they put something in the food, then if she started losing more memories on the way, she might need someone there who at least knew, sorta, what she was going through. Dean grabbed his duffel bag, relieved at least the nurses weren’t going to be out. He thought he vaguely remembered a nurse during Doyleton but he wasn’t sure. He’d been sorta busy drooling on Sam at the time.
“Can’t hurt,” Dean said, with a look at Yuffie that said don’t even go there. Yeah, it could hurt if they ran into a goblin or – or whatever was out there, but she knew what he meant. “I’ve wanted to get a better look outside. Maybe he’ll know about your memory problem.”
Sucked balls for her to be missing parts of her memory. He hoped she just wasn’t gonna start leaking more on him on the way out. Dean wasn’t sure he was all that prepared for some chick forgetting stuff like what happened two minutes ago or even forgetting how to walk.
"After you." Dean motioned at the door. Hitching up his duffel bag, he checked the catch release of his knife's sheath, ready to go.
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The move was instantaneous, and Castiel felt the change in temperature (from the cold outside air to the more heated patient room) and yet managed to keep his balance and bearing. He was right at Dean's side, as he'd planned to be, with Orihara standing next to him.
He took his hand off of the young man immediately, turning to Dean first. Though he didn't miss the fact that there was one other patient there, a girl in full outfit and heavily armed. Her choice of weaponry was a bit antiquated, though Castiel wasn't one to judge such a thing, seeing how he normally fought with a knife or his fists.
"Dean," he greeted immediately, only realizing at a delay that this version of the older Winchester wasn't exactly used to his sudden appearances.
But this was fortunate. It would prove that he wasn't all talk, that he was in fact capable of more than a human. Whether it would convince the man that he was an angel remained to be seen, but he was allowing himself to be hopeful.
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Izaya might have enjoyed the first instance of teleporting, but this second one was another matter. He'd been prepared for the first time (or as prepared as he could have been), but Castiel had taken hold of his arm without warning this time. A wave of uncertainty washed over him, about—... Well, it must have been about the teleporting. If Castiel could only go places he'd been, was this really usefully? Was this even safe?
The next thing he knew, they were back inside, near a man and a young lady in clothes that might have been trendy somewhere, but who (thanks to the weapons) practically looked like she was dressed in some cosplay. Castiel apparently knew the guy.
Castiel was paying more attention to his acquaintance than Izaya at the moment, but that didn't stop Izaya from commenting (more sharply than he'd meant to), "Warn me the next time you try that."
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Half a second before, wham! Two guys! Out of nowhere!
"The hell?!" Yuffie yelped, startling backwards. The motion took her straight into the closed door of the closet; the handle dug uncomfortably into her back, and she hopped forward again to escape it. "You guys—that's—rude, geez!" It was halfway through her mess of exclamations that Yuffie realized she'd automatically brought her shuriken up, holding it at the ready to… to… decapitate, or something. Maybe. (And there it went, in the back of her mind; a quick-flash replay of solid steel and cracking bones.)
Yuffie kept her eyes fixed on the interlopers, careful and measuring despite her more energetic outward reaction. It was strange… her body had moved on its own, almost, more quickly that she could keep up with. Her hands were dead steady, both of them, and although the shuriken felt heavy, it also felt familiar—too familiar to be discomforting. But she didn't move to attack, or to run away (not that she could've, she knew; ninja or not, they were between her and the door, and it wasn't like there was a whole lot of room left anyway.) If Dean knew the guy—one or both—then how this played out was his call, not hers.
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Dean jumped at the voice and presence suddenly at his side, starting as he whirled away and found himself almost side by side with Yuffie. Okay, so having a wall at your back wasn't the best move but what the hell? How did Castiel and - okay, he didn't know who the other guy was, but seriously, did it even matter - get in here. Dean had his hand on his knife without even thinking about it, even if Yuffie had beat him to the punch with her shuriken. Dean didn't quite relax, his heart still racing as he glanced from Castiel to...well, whoever his pal was.
"How'd you get in here?" Dean found his voice. "Who're you?"
Castiel, he knew. But seeing as he plain wasn't used to people just beaming into his room, he thought he had a right to know who was gonna be popping in. Was this more of those rings teleporting folks around? Dean couldn't even tell Yuffie, with her memory all shot to hell, if this was normal, 'cause he didn't even know himself.
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A room, with both Dean and a female in it. He'd known Dean for long enough to realize that this signified. Copulation befuddled the angel, but it was not his place to judge. In that case, he would need to quickly explain and move on.
Ignoring the weapons that were raised against him, Castiel glanced around the room for a moment, noticing that it was identical to his own. Then he turned to Dean and gave a minute shrug of his shoulders. "I had reason to believe that you did not trust what I said about what I am." The skepticism had been clear on both Dean and Sam's faces that first day.
"It appears that some of my power has returned to me. I felt that I should show it to you firsthand." Now it would be difficult for Dean to argue with his claim; that was his theory, at the least.
"However, it seems that you are busy," Castiel continued with a pointed glance in the girl's direction, "so I will take my leave." He glanced to Orihara then, giving him a silent warning that they would be moving again soon.
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He might not have liked the lack of warning beforehand, but the situation had proved to be interesting, dropping in unannounced on Castiel's friend and cosplay girlfriend like this. The girl was so flustered, and the man—Dean, Castiel had called him?—looked like he was on edge from their sudden appearance, too. If this 'Dean' knew Castiel, it didn't seem like he'd known what the man was capable of.
Castiel's words confirmed as much—and there was something else in there, too: the mention of other abilites, and... 'What I am', he'd said; not 'who I am'. It was an interesting choice of words, and one that Izaya would keep in mind for later. Now wasn't the time, not yet. Not until he knew better which questions needed asking.
Dean had asked another a question, too—likely directed at Izaya himself if he did know Castiel—but he wasn't going to give an answer now; if Dean was asking him, Izaya would leave the introductions for when they met again, if they met again. He nodded at Castiel instead; if he was done, it was time to get out of there and on to more interesting things—as nice as staying to see what else they might do might be.
"Ready," he said quietly. "Let's go."
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It had been a relief when Dean had reacted just as… badly wasn't the word for it; they could've been so totally screwed right there, her instincts told her. Quick thinking saved lives! Flinching was a reflex for a reason! Maybe she didn't know for sure what kind of life she'd lived back then, but duh, putting a weapon between creepy-weird interlopers with super teleportation powers was just common sense.
… Okay, maybe jumping back into the closet had been on th dumb side, but nine out ten wasn't a bad score? Right? Right. But anyway, that guy had given her a look like… like… like something, and Yuffie didn't like it.
"Damn straight we're busy," she said grumpily, fingers clenching against the crossbar of her shuriken. "We were just about to head out when you jerks showed up." She lifted her chin in defiant irritation, waiting for the two to leave and hoping they didn't try any funny business as a parting shot.
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At least Yuffie was still in the same, non-crazy boat as him.
Dean lowered his knife, figuring by now if Castiel and his boyfriend were gonna attack them, they would've done it already. Besides, that shuriken's of Yuffie was a pretty big deterrent there. Dean wouldn't want to be on the end of that, that was for sure. Dean by now had settled for feeling pissed and - okay, he wouldn't call it violated 'cause another dude was making eyes at him, but c'mon. How were you supposed to feel when two guys just blipped in for a dick measuring contest and then planned to blip out.
"Try knocking, Jesus Christ," Dean sputtered. Yeah, there wasn't exactly a friggen manual for this. At least Yuffie here was normal. Sorta normal. Ignoring the memory thing, she was being reasonable about this.
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First, their presence wasn't wanted. Second, Dean didn't seem to be entirely convinced, even after that display. It definitely smarted, but it wasn't as if he could ask for more details when there was a stranger present. More than that, he hadn't even told Orihara of what he truly was, though he wouldn't be surprised if the human had questions before long.
"I apologize," he said with a shake of his head before turning his attention to Dean. "We must talk later." When that would be depended on a number of things.
But they had to get going, and at this point Castiel wasn't sure where. He now knew that he could go to places he'd been before (in this area, that is) as well as to the locations of people who he knew, and as far as he could tell, that was the extent of his flight.
It wasn't much, but it was certainly convenient for exploration, especially when time was so short. But there was one more question that Castiel needed to answer, and that was whether or not Gabriel's power had returned. Seeing how his older sibling was an archangel and therefore had more power by nature, it was possible that he could fly further. Either way, Castiel needed to see.
He turned to Orihara finally, slowly reaching a hand forward so that the young man could be prepared. "We're going." And then he set his hand on the other's shoulder and in the next second they were gone.
[To here.]
no subject
So…what was going to be happening tonight?
Standing up and placing the unfinished plate on his desk, Canada fished out his pipe from behind the desk before grabbing his flashlight and switching his regular shoes with boots. Canada could hardly believe it. As if the tear gas wasn’t bad enough, they’re still mad and pushing to dish out some more punishments for only a food fight? That was just a bit of an overreaction, eh?
Stepping outside of his unlocked door, Canada flicked on his flashlight, and aimed it down both directions of the hallway. Nobody else (or nothing else), was here. He sighed quietly and paced down the empty hallway, his careful footsteps piercing through the silence. Whatever was about to happen, he couldn’t be afraid and let himself hide in his room. This was the only time where he had real freedom and the opportunity to escape from here.
After all, it was important he found a way to escape, since there was…that person…that was dragged away, and then there was…that stuff going on outside of the institute…after all…his appearance here meant that….
…meant what again?
He paused for a moment, blinking in confusion as he leaned up against the side of the hallway. The anxiety that had been gnawing away at Matthew’s chest all day slowly dissipated as a strange fuzziness suddenly overcame his mind.
‘Maybe I’m just dehydrated or something.’ He thought to himself, shrugging weakly as he began to pace forward again. Whatever had just happened, it wasn’t obvious and assaulting, but rather something that Matthew couldn’t quite place. Well…that’s what he gets for stressing out all day long.
…What had he been so worried about again? Well, yeah, he was imprisoned, and some other person seemed to have disappeared too…but….wasn’t there something else too?
…Whatever, he had probably just been over thinking everything anyhow.
After giving one last careful glance behind him, Matthew Williams stepped outside of his and Kanda’s hallway and into the next area.
[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1043870.html?view=75887006#t75887006)!]
no subject
At the moment, though, he needed to be out and finding Yuki. He'd woken up and known almost immediately that this wasn't his room--and thus he reasoned he had lost yet another roommate. And he had been moved, no less. Yue might have been able to sense him, but Touya didn't want to make that gamble. Instead, he ate a few mouthfuls of food once he awoke, put his things in his pillowcase, and left after taking note of the new number: M3.
(To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1043870.html?thread=75864222#t75864222))
M4- time skipping!
At first it had been easy to keep up the blind enthusiasm; an of-the-moment desire was easy to keep afloat when you had a sea of nerves and determination to back it up, even if the latter was somewhat false and undoubtedly due to vanish the second he spotted something big. But as Kibitoshin reached the next hallway, and the next, and the next, he felt something begin to feel something wane inside him. Maybe someone else would have called it common sense, but at that moment he couldn't help but think of it as cowardice, hesitation when he needed to save his friend- or maybe he was just trying to shame himself into moving. He wasn't sure anymore.
All he knew was that, as he reached the southern hallway, his mind began to tick over. There was a door on his right, just like the door he'd come out of in the last corridor, that presumably led to the next set of men's rooms. Logically speaking- and though Kibitoshin wasn't great at speaking logically, he was fairly sure of himself this time- they would be the ones numbered from one to forty. Which meant...
Haseo's room is in there.
He stopped and glanced anxiously over his shoulder, as though he was in the middle of doing something illegal. Surely it couldn't hurt to check up on him, could it? He hadn't heard from the younger patient in a while now, and with the rate people disappeared here... shuffling from foot to foot, he weighed up his options. If Haseo was there, the worst that could happen was that he'd get mad at him for it, and since Sechs was already cross with him that hardly seemed like a problem anymore. The less he thought about the worst possible outcome full stop, the better.
Alright. Okay. Clenching his fists, he walked into the hallway.
It didn't take Kibitoshin long to find the right room (M4, just like Haseo had said), even if it was near the end of the hall. Every step seemed to echo tenfold in his ears, horribly conspicuous in the cramped, aching emptiness of the hallway, but maybe that meant he was early enough to catch him before he left. Maybe-
- he pushed the door open. Haseo wasn't there. Walking into the room felt almost like trespassing, and he half expected to see Haseo jump out from behind the door a second later to tell him to get out, geeze, didn't he know how to knock, but that would at least have broken the tension. As it was, the beam from his flashlight was shaking, and not from dying batteries, and suddenly his stomach had taken a distinctly unpleasant twist.
But there was no reason to jump to conclusions, right? Maybe Haseo had already left for the night. He was (was, not 'had been') the sort who hated sitting around, so that would make sense. All he had to do was look in the closet and he'd see that all of the things he'd need for a night out were gone and then he'd be okay.
Kibitoshin looked at the cupboard. The cupboard looked back.
He really didn't want to check. But, even moreso, he didn't want to leave himself hanging.
"Do it, Kibitoshin!" he hissed aloud, and suddenly his hand shot out to open the cupboard door and reveal...
... everything. On the floor there were two carefully crafted blades- Haseo had those last time we met- and a large knife. Nestled next to them like two big 'L's was even a pair of shoes, the ones from when they'd visited Doyleton.
Haseo would never have left his weapons behind.
With a dull thud that barely registered, Kibitoshin dropped into the desk chair behind him. When he'd seen Haseo after his therapy, he remembered thinking that it was unfair that it had been done to him- it wasn't right, he'd said. So what did that make this?
After a few moments, he straightened up again. He still felt twisted- and pinched, and pulled- but part of him knew that he couldn't just sit around. It- it wouldn't bring him back. Someone else could probably use those things, too. Maybe even Haseo, if he ever came- no. He had to be realistic now. Carefully, almost gently, he gathered together the blades and the shoes in the pillow on Haseo's bed. Then he left the room and didn't look back.
Re: M4- time skipping!
M1
Kicking his way free, the monkey boy righted himself and felt something odd wriggling in his pants. It'd happened before, but he was old enough now to usually know the warnings signs before he shat himself. Hmmm. No, this was something different--
"My tail!" He pulled his pants down low enough to let it spring free. It was odd to say the least, but the monkey boy could only assume it was scared of the witches and hid during the day. Yeah, that theory made the most sense.
Now that things were looking up this night, Goku waddled out of his room without bringing anything. His senses were keen enough without aid. He could pick up the faint sounds of whispering, but nothing more alarming. How boring. Sighing dramatically, the kid paced back and forth by his room. He was supposed to be waiting for someone named Rocksass and Neck--Neek--some other person.
[Roxas]
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He wasn't sure if he was right about Goku's bulletin message (and it'd taken more than a few minutes for Roxas to even figure out what it said), but he was taking the chance he had meant the first room of the cell. It was really good that it was close by, but if he was wrong he supposed the proximity wouldn't really matter. Come on, be the right room.
The presence of only one other person in the hallway was slightly unnerving, but Roxas was determined to go help Neku somehow. He pulled the Organization coat's hood over his head, watching the vague outline for a minute. As he approached, he could see the other person (without a light? Weird.) was... a lot shorter than Roxas was. That was kind of weird; he'd gotten used to being towered over by everyone. Whoever it was looked a whole lot younger than Roxas did. He couldn't say much, though, considering he'd only been alive for a little more than a year.
But since the boy was pacing in front of M1, this might be who he wanted. "Um. Are you Goku? I'm Roxas."
SORRY FOR THE WAIT! I had to move /)_(\
A goofy grin broke out across his face once he recognized the name. "Hi, I'm Goku!" He repeated automatically. But then another thought hit him like smack to the face and the young monkey boy began frantically looking behind Roxas, circling a few times before finally giving up. "Where's uhmm--" He tried to remember the other name, but nothing was clicking. "--the other guy?" Raising his stubby arms to cradle the back of his head, he waited wide-eyed for an explanation.
NO PROBLEM. ♥
Roxas turned as Goku circled him, watching him with a curious cock to his head. Was he looking to see if... well, since Roxas was pretty sure that was a tail, maybe Goku was surprised he didn't have his own? The Nobody hadn't exactly ever met anyone who had one, but having memories of different worlds and going to a few himself had kind of made him open to how strange and assorted people could be.
- Oh, right.
"Neku. He was taken from our room earlier, during dinner," he answered, a worried tone creeping into his voice. "He's my roommate, I mean. That's how I know. I want to try to find where they took him and help him, if I can. Do you mind coming with me? I could use the help."
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That was sure mean of them, taking people in the night. If there was one thing Goku didn't like, it was someone who wouldn't play fairly. It was--well, unfair. Very unfair! "It was prolly those white witches!" From limited experience, the monkey boy had learned that if someone was going to cheat, it was usually women. They were sneaky devils. "We gotta find him!" He agreed, anger written all over his chubby face.
Without another word or any sense of direction, Goku began storming down the hallway on his short legs.
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He rose an arm in the dark, and looked at the delicate eyelets along the sleeve, glowing white against the dreariness of his room. It was just as he remembered it. Every inch a perfect replica. The eeriness of the whole thing began to creep into his bones, and so he quickly evacuated the room before the memories of being dragged away and sedate came back to him in too much detail.
He moved for the door with too much speed, though, so much that he went to walk through before he had actually managed to open anything. His body connected solidly and uselessly with the solid object. "Blast it!" he cursed too mildly. There were more choice, modern words to express his irritation, but he kept them in his head. "A different time, I'd throw you off your hinges," he hissed under his breath instead, hoping his roommate was not paying any more attention to him than usual.
This time, the door swung open, though by his hand rather than his threat, which didn't seem to have impressed it much. Howl moved on with whatever grace and pride he could spare.
[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1042734.html?thread=76022830#t76022830)]
M4 - Pre-Time Skip of Kibitoshin
He'd just opened the door, after snatching up his journal, the "radio" and the flashlight (Soren may need it), when he realized his eyesight hadn't come back yet... nor his hearing or sense of smell. Perhaps it'd take a min--...
Ranulf's belongings clattered to the floor, as he was thrown off balance. He felt something strange, but familiar, poking up out of the waistband of his pants. Steadying himself against the wall, he was almost frightened to look behind him. It couldn't be... and yet there it was! His tail! His TAIL!!! He grabbed it, needing the sense of touch to confirm it to be a reality. Then the hair on the top of his head shifted and he realized that his ears were back to their original formation! He felt them with his fingertips, the velvety softness the same as it always was.
There were so many emotions and thoughts running through his head all at the same time. He wanted to laugh, to cry, to scream through the hallways.. and all he could do was let out a small gasp. He picked up the items, a permanent smile plastered on his face as he dashed to Soren's room. Wait until that mage got a load of this!
Re: M4 - Pre-Time Skip of Kibitoshin
M3
He hadn't thought about Jessie for a long time. Not since Meteor. The time after that, he'd spent looking to the future, not looking back at his past, and he had his reasons for it. Certainly the pang that hit him somewhere above the spleen every time her face (and Biggs, and Wedge's) popped up in his mind's eye was one. Tonight, though; tonight, her words came up unexpectedly out of the reservoir of his memories, a quiet whisper that melted into the silence around him. A warning, maybe, from his subconscious? A hint from something else? Just another way for this day to get worse than it already was?
Whatever it was, it prompted Cloud to flick on the switch of his flashlight instead of leaving his room just like that as he'd intended to originally. The afternoon had served to drive home the fact that his eyesight wasn't quite what it used to be, among other facts, and he knew it would be for him to be able to see if something came at him rather than trying to minimize his being found out.
After all, Cloud was sure he could take on whatever this place threw at him, weapons or no weapons.
He closed the door behind him with not so much as a snick before letting the beam of the flashlight spill out in front of him, pupils dilated as his eyes scanned the area ahead. The hall seemed to be empty now (he'd heard voices earlier) and he took that as a cue to move on forward, his mind now on the intercom announcement. Judging by that as well as the commotion in the Sun Room earlier on, Cloud had been brought here at an ... interesting time, to put it mildly. Wherever here was; he was sure this wasn't even the Eastern Continent anymore. Some kind of military (he couldn't recognize their uniforms) had been deployed into the "Institute", the administration seemed to be on shaky legs, and clearly this wasn't the routine around here.
Fair enough. He'd be another anomaly in the place before he bust on out of here-- but there was one thing he had to make sure of first. Something important. Something... that had been gnawing at his mind ever since his meeting with that girl with the pinkish hair, that he'd tried not to think on too hard because that would mean losing his focus on the main objective. Which was, putting it simply, to get out of this place.
Reached the end of the long line of doors on either side of him, Cloud paused, sliding a palm over the flashlight to dull the light before turning the corner carefully. See, once you lost your focus, it was hard to get it back...
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