Castiel (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
freewill) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2011-05-29 02:26 pm
freewill) wrote in damned_institute2011-05-29 02:26 pm
Entry tags:
- aidou,
- albedo,
- alyssa,
- anise,
- badd,
- byrne,
- castiel,
- cloud,
- dexter,
- doctor facilier,
- edgeworth,
- erika,
- gant,
- grell,
- gren,
- guybrush,
- ippo,
- izaya,
- jessica drew,
- klavier,
- lana skye,
- leela,
- luke skywalker,
- maya,
- meekins,
- mello,
- morgan,
- niikura,
- peter parker,
- phoenix,
- rapunzel,
- rei,
- renamon,
- sechs,
- sora,
- stefan,
- sync,
- taura,
- ted logan,
- the flash,
- tolten,
- venom,
- zack
Night 56: Main Hallway, 1-West
[From here.]
He had reached the meeting point in less than a few minutes and there was still not another patient to be seen. Castiel paused, standing near the wall as he moved his flashlight up and down the corridor. There was nothing, not the sound of a shadow slipping through the dark; not the whisper of something less than human.
The only sound was the static that periodically came from his radio. He couldn't seem to get it to let up, and he wondered if it was reacting to him or if he'd been given a faulty one.
He would have preferred the former option, but he had been knocked down too many notches when it came to the loss of his abilities, his divinity, the very things that made him him.
Castiel let out a breath that had been caught in his chest and then lowered his flashlight. He wondered how long this whole process would take, but he supposed that all depended on how well he did as a student. He fashioned himself a fast learner, but he had never been able to grasp things like popular culture.
He imagined he would do a bit better with lockpicking, though. Leaning himself against the wall, Castiel stood there quietly, waiting for Orihara to show himself.
[For Izaya.]
He had reached the meeting point in less than a few minutes and there was still not another patient to be seen. Castiel paused, standing near the wall as he moved his flashlight up and down the corridor. There was nothing, not the sound of a shadow slipping through the dark; not the whisper of something less than human.
The only sound was the static that periodically came from his radio. He couldn't seem to get it to let up, and he wondered if it was reacting to him or if he'd been given a faulty one.
He would have preferred the former option, but he had been knocked down too many notches when it came to the loss of his abilities, his divinity, the very things that made him him.
Castiel let out a breath that had been caught in his chest and then lowered his flashlight. He wondered how long this whole process would take, but he supposed that all depended on how well he did as a student. He fashioned himself a fast learner, but he had never been able to grasp things like popular culture.
He imagined he would do a bit better with lockpicking, though. Leaning himself against the wall, Castiel stood there quietly, waiting for Orihara to show himself.
[For Izaya.]
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Then another woman with purple hair approached them, and Leela heard her gasp. She assumed the reason wasn't herself, since she had no idea who the woman was. Someone who knew Gren, and was surprised to see him. That wasn't much of a stretch to guess. Leela kept her flashlight beam pointed low, to keep from blinding the poor girl, but looked her over as well as she could in the weak light. At a glance, she liked what she saw, and not just because she was biased in favor of purple hair. The stranger looked old enough to know what was what, and tough enough not to take any crap.
Leela gave her a nod, but didn't speak, waiting to see what was going on with her and Gren.
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He'd tensed up a little, prepared to see some sort of creature that had managed to creep up on them, or some other disturbance going on that hadn't been readily apparent from where they stood, but the sight that greeted him was something far more unexpected.
After last night, perhaps he should have expected another visitation--another piece of his life coming back to haunt him. But this ghost was quite real, if Leela's reaction to her was any indication.
"Faye?"
The uniform was a different look for her, but it definitely was her, looking just as surprised to see him as he was, her.
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That voice.... She'd know that voice anywhere. That kind, understanding voice, the one that had somehow pierced straight through her defenses and compelled her to trust him. And she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, even if it seemed impossible, that it was really Gren standing in front of her.
Wide-eyed and pale, she looked as if she'd just seen a ghost. And as far as she was concerned, she had. For all she knew, he was supposed to be dead. That's what happened, right? He helped her when she didn't really need it, told her some cock-and-bull about comrades (which she knew, now more than ever, was completely useless), and went off to die.
Men were such idiots.
But even as these thoughts began to process, her throat was dry and constricted, and her entire body was still paralyzed. If she had anything to say at the moment, she couldn't make the muscles work that would permit her to do so.
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Gren seemed slightly less taken aback, but he wasn't going to be winning any awards for snappy banter just now, either.
"Hi, I'm Leela," she said, helpfully. Talking, this is how it works. You can do it!
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And then, of course, there was the fact that she probably thought he was dead.
Completely understandable, in that case.
"It's a little confusing, but I can explain."
He'd try, at least. He didn't have all the answers himself, but he could tell her what he knew, at least.
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She remembered when she last saw him more vividly. Now that she was fairly sure she wasn't imagining things, those memories somehow became more accessible. She remembered the struggle, how he managed to disarm and subdue her, how he left her there--
Her already mounting annoyance and anger at being thrown into this situation now threatened to take over completely.
Oh, he had some explaining to do. A lot of explaining to do. But this place would take first priority.
"I'm waiting," she finally spat, the expression on her face just as dangerous as her tone of voice.
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The anger took him a little by surprise, but really, he should have been expecting it. When he thought about it again, they really hadn't parted on very good terms, as justified as he'd felt in his actions at the time.
He'd thought he was doing her a favor, but he could hardly expect her to see it that way.
"I want to apologize for what happened," he began, "but this isn't really the best time, so I'll just try to explain this as simply as I can. Everyone here's been kidnapped and brought to this place. I don't know how, but it's not safe. Especially not right now. There's more to it than that, but we probably shouldn't stand around here for too long. I'm really sorry, Faye."
For everything, really. As much as it was nice to see someone he knew, he didn't wish this hell on anyone, and the way things had gone on Callisto hadn't been the way he would have ended things, if he'd had the time. He just hadn't had a choice. Maybe now, he'd at least have a chance to make up for it.
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But hearing that unsaid implication, that weight in his apology, was like a punch to the gut, and it caused her to pause, her mouth opening and then closing again. Somehow, she could feel the sincerity lurking behind those words, and it was oddly similar to being caught under his honest gaze, the one that seemed to see straight through her when nothing else did. Like back then, it almost compelled her to listen. Maybe to believe him.
.... And she had no idea what to do with it.
For the second time in recent memory, she had been rendered speechless.
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She was perfectly aware this was the sort of thing that made people look at her like she'd sprouted an extra eye (another extra eye), but Faye, assuming that was the name she preferred, would see that much was true after a couple of days here, if not less.
"I was dragging Gren along to look for some files," she went on, pretty sure he wouldn't have any desire to add to the awkwardness by explaining that he needed them, or why. "We could use an extra pair of eyes. Plus, you get to see more of scenic Landel's if you come along. ...all right, that was lame, I know." But exploring was never really useless here, Leela felt. If nothing else, poor Faye (she really did feel for her) would have something to comment on if anything typically ridiculous happened to them.
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Of course, if they continued on their search, they were still targets, but at least they'd be moving targets rather than stationary ones. He cast Leela a grateful look for that little doctoring of the truth as it pertained to their records search--what had happened to him was a little too much to be dumping on Faye all at once, especially given how uniquely suited she was to understanding its full implications. For now, he just wanted to make sure she was safe--not that Faye was the sort of woman who needed--or particularly wanted--protecting, but this wasn't home.
"I can answer any questions you have while we search," he offered. He owed her that much, anyway.
... wow, guys, sorry for my fail ;_;
She had about a million questions, and that list was expanding exponentially by the second. What was this place? Why were they really here? What were they planning to do? How was Gren still alive? But those questions would have to wait.
"Fine," she said finally with a quiet sigh, conceding just that one little bit. If she couldn't leave just yet, finding out more about the place in which she was stuck wouldn't hurt. And maybe it would be all right, at least this once, to team up with someone she already knew. He had an advantage over her in that he knew the lay of the land.
As much as she was reluctant, as much as she wanted to prove that she was right all along, that she didn't need comrades and was perfectly capable of operating alone, maybe he was the one who was right, at least on some level. Maybe she needed a comrade. ... Just this once.
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Faye was definitely coming across as the strong, silent type, which Leela could appreciate. She herself was the closest the Planet Express crew had to an example of that type. She headed for the stairs to the second floor.
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