damned_institute | Night 54: East Wing, Hall A [2nd Floor]

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Night 54: East Wing, Hall A [2nd Floor]

[From here.]

So far, it seemed they were the only ones on that side of the main hall. Edgar wasn't about to complain- after all, that meant the storerooms would still be full, the wares there not yet picked clean by other resourceful patients. He shook his light as the beam wavered again, shining it down the corridor and into the corners. The doors to the storage closets were in sight now, and they were an encouraging sight indeed.

Aside from darkness, silence filled the hallway. Edgar decided to try his hand at conversation, now that they were away from the rest of the patients. He knelt beside the left door first, inspecting the lock- as with other nights, it was as though it had never been broken. Aligning the handle of his flashlight just below the lock, he prepared to break it.

"In regard to what he was saying just now..." The first hit made a crack, but the door didn't budge. "Were you in the Sun Room just before dinner?" There was another crack from the second hit, and the door creaked open. Edgar stood, rubbing the side of his hand, allowing Ryuuzaki passage into the room.

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"Something funny is definitely going on... it has something to do with food." Marc's statement brought the girl at lunch yesterday to mind: her insistence that it would be possible to be drugged without tasting it, which was true, and without being aware of any effects, which L doubted. He hadn't had the opportunity to tell her that it was difficult to prove you had been drugged if there had been no results to experience or observe. It would be the same as never having been drugged at all, which would make it harmless.

--Maybe. The suggestion that their food had been tampered with didn't decrease his sense of uneasiness.

Figaro bypassed his question, heading down the hall to their first destination without answering, and kneeling to break the lock. A frown flickered across L's face in response, but he didn't press the matter.

[To here.]

[From here.]

That quick glance was followed by a second, longer look over his shoulder as Edgar crossed into the hall. Ryuuzaki seemed like an individual who wasn't fazed by much- either that, or he preferred to keep his emotions under control. Edgar could relate: he'd spent years stifling incredible disgust as he greeted the Imperial ambassadors with a smile. Kefka was an especially hard sell.

That was why he found it so odd to see Ryuuzaki looking disconcerted to any degree. Edgar made no attempt to hide his confusion. Was it something he'd said? No, he'd not mentioned anything that startling. Perhaps it was Project 2911 taking effect. It wasn't entirely out of the question. If it was- and if his own possible knowledge of those undergoing the "special counseling" was indeed a result of the project- then why did affect Ryuuzaki so much later?

Edgar turned to face his companion. "Something wrong, Ryuuzaki?"

L met Edgar's question with a speculative look and a beat of silence.

"--No, nothing." His expression normalized, becoming a flat stare, and he continued, "It's hard to tell how much longer we have. If you'll allow me, I'll break the next lock. Just be sure to be ready for anything that might be behind the door." He would be breaking the lock regardless of what Edgar might allow; the point was to get ahead of him.

As he took the lead, he brushed against Edgar (impossible to think of him as "Figaro," now), and there it was again, immediate and unmistakeable: the sense of heavy responsibility, this time tinged with repulsion. Ambassadors. An alliance the young king hadn't wanted. One of the emissaries had been more repellent to Edgar than the others--but--the transference ended with that. L had no idea of the man's identity or the reason why Edgar felt particular loathing for him.

This time, because he was in the lead, his companion couldn't see his response to what had happened. L wondered again how likely it was that his sudden access to Edgar's memories and emotions might be a side effect of the sleep study, then discarded the idea: he hadn't experienced anything like this before tonight, and it was nothing like what he had been told to expect. He remembered how he had felt when the man, Archer, Gilgamesh, had accosted him the night before, the sharp, nauseating pain and the certainty that Archer didn't mean well. That must have been the work of the device. Nonetheless, food tampering was the only other explanation on offer, and it was hard to comprehend how food tampering could give him access to Edgar's inner thoughts. Maybe the intention was only to give him the illusion of it. But why? What's the point? What's the value to them? Only an idiot would look at the current circumstances and think that his new abilities had been bestowed in an altruistic act.

When he reached the door, he double-checked that it was locked, glanced at Edgar to be sure that he was standing ready, and stepped back and aimed a sharp kick at the area below the knob.

The door popped open.

[To here.]

Edited 2011-03-08 09:32 (UTC)

[From here.]

Aside from the silence now filling the hallway, the lack of voices indicating that the other patients had moved from the area, the corridor was unchanged. Edgar gave the hallway a cautionary sweep anyway, if simply out of habit.

As before, there was nothing, though not even the sound of their own conversation was there to fill the void this time. Though he didn't ask, Edgar could only assume the box of Daniel Laurier had given Ryuuzaki something to think about. His own certainly had. "Which way now?"

L hefted the straps of the backpack onto his shoulders, then followed Edgar back out into the corridor, running the beam of his flashlight down to where the two halls joined. Still quiet.

"Back the way we came, down there." He indicated a door on the left with the beam of light, then another just next to it, and one across from the first. "A few doors are marked as locked on the maps that have circulated among the patients, with the rooms behind them left unlabeled, as if no one knows what's in them. It seems most likely that the doors really are impossible to open. It would be foolish to try to hide something by telling everyone that it's pointless to even attempt to get into the place where it's hidden, and I suspect that other people have made the same test... still, checking a few of them is the easiest way to be sure. That said, it's better if it's random."

He paused, moving towards the door on the left that was nearer to them. When he picked up the conversation again, it was with a shift in topic.

"Do you remember Landel's comment about Aguilar? He said that The Eagle can't tolerate insubordination. Is that what we're experiencing now... his intolerance?" He jiggled the handle of the door, then pressed against the panel. It didn't budge; it barely rattled. "These experiences we've had tonight... the announcement earlier suggested that they were punishment for the riot at breakfast. However, the abilities that each of us have been given are more advantageous than not."

He stood back from the door, then tentatively lifted his leg, preparing to kick. His gaze went back and forth as he gauged the approximate force and angle that would be most effective. "Does that make sense to you?"

"Yeah, that makes sense." Edgar watched as Ryuuzaki prepared to try his luck on the door, scanning the hallway again for anything that might be attracted by the noise. With the corridor as empty as ever, he picked a door to try as well.

"They may have said that the riot was partly to blame for the events tonight- assuming these experiences are the events- but I have a feeling they would have subjected us to them eventually anyway," Edgar noted grimly, giving one of the doors a solid hit with the butt of his flashlight. Unlike the others he'd opened in the same fashion, this one didn't budge. Still no activity from the rest of the hallway- apparently, two men knocking in doors wasn't enough to merit attention from the nighttime guards. Edgar wasn't about to complain.

"The question is," he continued as he stood, "whether or not these are the only two effects. If not, maybe we were just lucky enough to get good ones. Or we used them well. Think of it this way: you could have ended up with someone who didn't want their secrets known and would do anything silence someone who learned them. In the same vein, I could have been alone and given in to my curiosity, wandering into a death trap to satisfy an itch."

Edgar crossed to the indicated door on the other wall, giving the handle a try before kneeling beside the lock, preparing to give it the same treatment as the last. He shook his head as he got the same results. "Locked and locked. It would be nice if we had someone here who was an expert at dealing with this sort of situation..." There was a light sigh at the end of his statement. Where was Locke when he was needed?

The kick did nothing. Neither did several further attempts, the last made with as much force as L could muster: again, the door hardly even rattled in its frame. It was locked tight and solid.

Edgar was right in several respects. Aguilar had most likely used the riot as an excuse to do what he would eventually have done anyway, framed either as a punishment that he would have found some reason to apply sooner rather than later, or as "training." The two of them had been lucky, but that luck was mostly circumstantial, and there might have been as many different experiences of the "punishment" as there were people in the Institute.

Even so, it was ridiculous under the circumstances--unnecessary--for Aguilar to try to present what was most likely an experiment as a punishment.

Edgar was having no luck with the doors either; that meant that the maps were accurate, at least when it came to the three at hand. L gave up and stood back, leaning against the wall near the door he had tried to open. He glanced down at the open end of the corridor. Still nothing, which was a relief.

"The next thing would be an explosion, but that might be too dangerous to try under current conditions, especially when satisfying our curiosity is the only concrete goal." He still felt some temptation to let someone who was hypothetically expendable try, but when he had no way to shield them, and when the profit wasn't obvious, there wasn't much point. "Then again... locked doors must be locked for a reason, but I'd prefer to have more of an idea of which door is likely to lead somewhere useful before we--"

The intercom clicked on, a man with a faint Spanish accent began to speak, and if L said anything else, he had no memory of it.

Edited 2011-05-19 09:22 (UTC)

[from here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1051064.html?thread=76152760#t76152760)

And this hall was quiet. The girl glanced around, eyes catching on the door needed. Cool. Someone had thought to break it open already for them. "There was this guy a while back who proclaimed himself an actual god... And there are people here who say they aren't human in their natural form. Stuff like that. This place is full of interesting people."

Any of whom, who, given the chance, could likely blow this place up with their own power.

Interesting like...a robot, perhaps? A pirate? An android? Hmm. Amused, Maya considered the odd conversations she'd had the last few days. They made quite more sense now, but Maya wasn't keen on simply accepting those assertions on the words of what may be madmen or madwomen. Even if it meant Maya would be doubted herself, but the Fangire existence was a secret from most humans anyway, hm?

"What do you do? What's it like?" Not to catch Senna in a lie, or to have her prove anything; merely curious.

But on the topic of curiosity.... Maya took a moment to look around. The previous hallway had been more or less more of the same, but this one was lined with doors. Not unlike the bedroom halls, but Maya noticed the spacing between the doors were not as even. "Storerooms, I presume?" she asked, wandering over to inspect the doorknob of one.

As a Shinigami. Right. Focus on that and not the rest. As Maya wandered, Senna moved to the correct door and leaned next to it, content to wait until the other was satisfied. Storerooms? She couldn't say. "Don't know really. I haven't been in a lot of areas inside. I've been mostly doing outside work."

For the other stuff... "Well. We help the spirits of the dead pass on, for one. Some just need a little help, and we can provide that. Others... get a bit more problematic if left alone, and we sometimes have to fight them. Along with some other stuff." Which... she wasn't going into. "It's not too bad really. I mean, I don't have to deal with some of the class system stuff going on, since I'm mainly in the human world, but in general...." She smiled to herself, thinking of a little boy waving to her. "It's nice. To be able to help people like that."

To Maya, it sounded like a lot of effort for little gain. Class system, indeed. Though she supposed the feeling of helping people was its own reward, in a sense.

"Do you come across spirits who are...unusual?" she asked as she abandoned the doorknob and approached. For all Maya knew, the spirits of Fangire might be commonplace for Senna. Then again, perhaps not. Maya knew of several rites that called on the souls of shattered Fangire. A mystery, indeed.

Less so than what were behind these doors, perhaps. "Shall we explore the other doors afterward, then?"

Unusual, huh? Like Blanks, maybe. Or... like Senna, in a way. She straightened to start moving through the open door. "Yeah, sometimes," she answered vaguely. "But it's not that common." Every few hundred years or so, you know the drill. Still, she tried not to think about it, and smiled over her shoulder at Maya. "Yeah, we should."

[to here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1053397.html?thread=76194773#t76194773)

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And back into the hall it was.

"Alright," she said in response well-naturedly. Even Senna found the question and answer combo strange. What Maya had asked was oddly specific for something who was just curious, but Senna also understood the need for certain things to maintain themselves as secrets. She stretched her arms above her head, keeping a casual look. "Well~," she started, tone lighter. "Where did you want to go to now? I'm yours for the rest of the night."

She twirled around and pointed a finger at her roommate. "Think of me as your bodyguard," she said with a friendly grin. And... Hopefully, she'd have more luck than in the past. She had gained some seriousness--hopefully, she would be able to protect now, without any hesitation.

...Then again. It wasn't as if monsters were patients. It wasn't like those times. They were different.

A bodyguard; how novel. Maya had never thought herself as someone who needed it before, but—with the pipe in her hands—she reminded herself that she quite did need one. Certainly she'd wished for one at a few points during the last few years. However, that wish had been slightly different from the arrangement now—but there was no reason not to be grateful to Senna.

But to give the question some thought. Maya looked both ways down the hallway from the point they were standing, and considered. Senna had said she didn't know what lay beyond the other doors, so there was little point in asking her to details, she supposed. "The nearest door, then?" she proposed.

A random exploring party. Hey, it had potential. "Sounds good to me," she replied. The closest door was just across the hall. Senna moved to it, tried the knob. No go. The girl frowned. Well~ That could be helped out. Served the place if some stuff got broke. She slid her sword out from her belt, then flipped it around. And apologized silently for the use.

She brought the hilt down hard twice, the second strike breaking off the knob. "Alright!" she beamed. "Onward!"

[to here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1056619.html)

[from here]

They had been nearing the location set upon when Ritsuka offered more instructions. On the right... Were a few doors. Though one had been swung open, the knob lying on the floor. It'd be perfectly simple if that was their goal--a door already opened. However, Albedo's attentions flitted more towards his friend, who seemed to be worsening.

Albedo frowned, and leaned towards Ritsuka, offering a shoulder for support if was needed. He wanted to ask if he was okay, but less than loud speaking seemed not to be heard clearly, and Albedo didn't want to draw attention to the fact if it was unwanted. So instead he tilted his head, concerned. Was it all related to his hearing being disrupted? Or was there something else that Albedo hadn't noticed?

It looked like he'd made the right choice in heading out with Ritsuka tonight, since the kid seemed to know where he was going even if he wasn't as ready for a fight. Granted, Peter didn't think that someone so young should know even the smallest thing about fighting, but Albedo had already proved that that was a naive view.

He followed after the pair, noticing the closeness between them that was lingering. It almost felt like the two boys were having a quiet conversation due to the fact that Ritsuka could barely hear what they were saying.

But that wasn't his concern, and more than that, they had a few options to choose from. Peter also noticed how one of the doors looked like it had been broken into already, but he wasn't going to jump to any conclusions. "Do you have any idea, Ritsuka?" he asked the boy, making sure to look straight at him so that he realized he was asking a question. He was willing to try them one-by-one if need be, but there was no harm in checking first.

When he saw there was nothing in this hallway to indicate danger, Ritsuka let some of the tension in his shoulders relax. Not all, because he knew that things tended to drop down from above or some screaming down the hallway like they just materialized out of thin air, but some. There were several doors on the right and Ritsuka had to think hard on which one it was. The first had been unlocked and if he recalled, nothing much to look at. There was one door open though and the handle was broken so maybe...?

Albedo leaned toward him and Ritsuka turned his head in his friend's direction. The worry was evident on his face and Ritsuka lowered his hand, shaking his head. "I'm okay. Don't worry."

He was used to more pain than this and it wasn't the loss of hearing or the lingering ache in his bones that was causing him trouble. It was the smell of Peter's burn and how it clung to the air now. Ritsuka wasn't sure if the others could even sense it anymore, but he couldn't get it out of his head. Peter was looking at him now and he realized that he needed to make a decision about what door it was as the older man asked him for further directions.

"....That one, I think," he said, pointing to the already opened door. If not that one then the one next to it. He remembered that it was around this area at the very least and that open door seemed the most likely. Moving forward, Ritsuka approached it and peeked inside.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1056619.html?thread=76326763#t76326763)]

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Night 54: East Wing, Hall A [2nd Floor]

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