damned_institute | Night 56: Weapons Range

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Night 56: Weapons Range

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The thing that this boy should have warned them about this room were the lights. Erika was almost blinded the moment she followed Sync and the other through the doors, grimacing and immediately shielding her eyes from the powerful skylights shining down on them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the detective knew that this sort of trick was a deliberate move by Landel to disorient and confuse anyone trying to get in. Perfect if you were trying to slice them open with bullets. Erika certainly didn't forget about that, immediately shuffling to the side with her back against the wall to avoid any turrets that were positioned right at the entrance.

That move wasn't necessary, she realized, as her eyes adjusted and she could make out... absolutely nothing before them, an empty stretch of air. That was unexpected, but then again, despite how this scene was completely different from what the other boy described, Erika wasn't too startled. It seemed about right that Landel-san or whomever was running this place now would change up the challenge exactly to prevent them from having too much of an advantage, but it still seemed... extremely lacking, compared to what she heard. Was there something else in store for them? The detective took no chances, sweeping her eyes around the room and trying to find any hidden traps or enemies waiting. That was her job, after all. But the room, while large, was also cold and lifeless, a giant rectangle of metal. There was simply nowhere else to hide anything.

Erika didn't feel the need to share her observations, instead staying in place and observing the rest of the soon-to-be battlefield. This was the other boy's test, after all, so she had no desire to interfere in what was supposed to be his moment of glory. She wouldn't be so cruel as to take that golden opportunity away from him, after all.

"Good luck, you two." And weren't they going to need it.

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For as much as they disagreed over certain things, it seemed as if Sync was more in tune with Erika than he would've liked to admit. Like her, he was quick to assume that the blinding lights were set up on purpose in order to disorient, shielding his eyes and immediately darting away from the doors. However, he kept himself away from the wall, knowing that he'd be limited to where he could dodge if any turrets were to surprise them before they could even prepare.

However, that didn't seem to be the case, because there was nothing actually out in the open to attack them. He wondered if the challenges differed with each visit to this room, or maybe his roommate was lying after all. Yet the former seemed more plausible, even if it didn't look like there was a challenge available for them at all. But he knew better than to let his guard down, which was why he kept his stance regardless of the setting.

And it was as if he could read the latter's thoughts as well, grinning over at the other nearby.

"I'm not the one that's going to need it."

The room of white existed to procure a challenge for a very worthy prize--a challenge based on weapon and user both. From the simplest, it could be basic targets; move farther and it could be something a little more familiar.

There was nothing in the room. And yet the first thing that could be noticed by the challenger would be a familiar feel against form, something a bit too much like what was left behind before he had came here. A waveform twisted and skewed, pulsating with a clear and present aversion to nature. Something far too close to another's feel. From the far end of the room, part of the wall pulled up, revealing a dark indentation. A mechanical woman's voice called out perfunctorily. "Phase one."

There was a beat, pause, then motion--a solitary black and white figure skittering forward inhumanly, a light coalescence of magenta flaring around the edges. This was not action and reaction, only aggression; a repeat pressed into the remains of its mind, to the one familiar, to the relation of the beast. Six feet away, it leaped upwards, intending to come down on Nigredo with force centered in one of its arm blades.

A room flooded in white light proved problematic upon entrance, but Nigredo was no fool. A hand reached over his head to shield the glare as the other readied the rifle. There was no telling what might occur or what he might face; survival would require absolute preparation. The choice in weaponry was perfect for the boy's capacity and potential scenarios; however, all of that would be for naught if he couldn't move in a moment's notice.

Like before, metal inlaid the interior of the room, and like before, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. That hardly seemed to faze anyone; both his roommate and the "friend" did not lax their guard. As long as they kept up this attitude and stayed out of his way, he wouldn't have to waste unnecessary energy. The boy began to speak, to throw aside their comments with his own sardonic retort.

"Just try not to--" Die. Only, he never finished. His eyes instead were drawn to the space a little beyond their current position, waveform pressing against another familiar. Another twisted beyond reproach. Weeks spent in the proximity of a tainted sibling had not deadened the sense, and Nigredo found himself struggling for an emotional response.

What was correct did not necessarily apply to blood. Rubedo would fear. Albedo would delight. The youngest closed his expression and lifted the firearm to aim. "Stay against the wall," he ordered as a wall at the far side of the room shifted upward. "Don't interfere unless you plan to help." A voice overhead chimed, and on cue, he glanced into the scope. His brothers would not waste a single moment to greet him; Nigredo would have to offer the same courtesy.

What he caught at the end of the scope, however, briefly threw off his concentration. In the place of blond hair and blue eyes, he saw distorted limbs and emancipated physique, features typically seen in the realm of the Encephalon or the U-DO simulator. In turn, this triggered another memory, one involving a flicker and a wonder, and the boy wasted a critical second to push around thoughts.

Was this even reality?

The infected standard leaped, and Nigredo had missed the chance to fire. For that moment, at least. If acted immediately, he might still have a hit. He barreled forward to evade, pivoting the rifle upward to shoot the form as it moved in mid-air.

Their banter was cut short when a mechanized voice announced the beginning of the test. Thankfully, everyone shut up in time to watch the first of their "targets" to show up... Just one. A lone humanoid creature. The boy had ordered them not to interfere unless they planned to fight, so Erika was more than happy to comply and just watched. The creature leapt up with terrifying speed, the boy moving just as swiftly to react. Erika didn't keep her complete concentration on the beginning fight in front of her though - she was constantly looking to the sides, almost as if expecting another one of those things to leap out in front of them.

That sort of dirty trick was like Landel-san, wasn't it? She was sure the General was no different and had something just as unpleasant in store for them, and Erika would be damned if she was caught into a trap was obvious as that.

Sync glanced upwards when a woman's voice resonated through the room, indicating the start of their test. However, what they faced wasn't exactly what he expected.

This challenge was nothing like what the latter previously explained, only confirming the possibility that this room adapted to whoever decided to be responsible for the task. At the moment it seemed as if the 'creature' only had interest in Nigredo, and that was fine by him. He didn't mind if the latter told them to keep away; for all he knew interfering with the targets could make these rounds void. With that it was best not to offer assistance, but that didn't mean he was going to relax. It'd do them no good if Nigredo died, so he readied his stance as he watched the other shoot the lunging creature at the last second.

The one delicately referred to as a sibling, a genetic aberration like the other two, faltered, and this one delighted in the most basic of ways. Then burning caught its attention, a tear along its side from a bullet that still caught some of its mark. It shrieked, swiping outwards as it landed. Even as skin caught, something solid connected with its skull--it recoiled, then jolted as the shots after connected fully.

Again it shrieked, muffling the sound of the door it had come from closing. Then fell in a heap, childlike gasps coming from the shuddering mass. Perhaps it was only then, that one could remember. These had been something close to human once.

Blood fountained upward, a rain likely remembered as the form collapsed into itself, and then to nothing. There existed little time for reaction. To either side of the original door, lines formed and slid open, releasing two more, one after the other before closing. The right attacked in the same pattern as the first, leaping upwards to dive down at the boy. Slightly delayed, the one on the left only skittered forward with enhanced speed, intent on slashing their relation's torso open, to spill his organs onto the floor.

The blood would be the same, after all, of the pooling remains on the floor.

His arm came too close to the swipe. It caught against the infected's attached blade, and a thin red line bled onto his blue sleeve. No mind was given. No hurt registered. Nigredo merely pulled back and threw his weight forward, swinging the butt of the rifle fully into its face. Momentum was taken, and the boy stepped around for space and aimed.

When he finished, his "sibling" died screaming. Blood gushed from the heaping mass until the latter disappeared altogether, but Nigredo afforded no time to watch. His waveform resonated in light of another's presence; it would be wise to continue. To set aside thoughts of blood splatters and act as he promised.

Only this time, there were two. The back of his mind saw this as worrisome. A variant could normally handle both with relative ease, but a variant also had the luxury of untapped potential. Here, Nigredo was restricted. Here, his anti-U-DO waves provided potency at a lesser level than even the standards'. All that could be relied upon was what he had claimed to earlier: his use with a firearm.

But that was enough. Gunslinger of a brother he was not, but with the right tool and motive, he could be more efficient. The child shot at the one in mid-air--hoping the flurry of bullets would knock it off track--before sprinting forward toward the other, pivoting the rifle to block the incoming blade. The weapon would hold; the Federation had a thing for resiliency.

That boy probably couldn't have asked for a more cooperative audience; while Sync might have been preparing to launch himself to the fray, Erika couldn't help but watch a little in awe as she saw the other boy take care of the creature with alarming speed, proving that he could indeed take these creatures on his own. The thing died quickly, the detective casting it a curious glance as she wondered what it was, and if it had any relation to the boy. She could only tell that it was humanoid, barely having the same shape as one and nothing else. Really, she was starting to get nervous; would he be able to keep up?

And to add to her troubles, there were two of them this time. Erika grimaced, tightening the grip on her katana as she watched the boy take the both of those monsters on. This was... definitely not what she expected out of this room, for sure, but she had to steel herself and prepare for the chance that one of them would have to jump in and help. Hopefully, Sync should be enough backup for the boy, if he did need it.

This would have been a lot better if she didn't need both of them to live through this little trial.

Envy was a trait that sparked in every fighter's mind when witnessing another in battle, but Sync knew better than to jump into the fray simply because of these urges. Besides, it looked as if his roommate possessed skills he never would've assumed possible. It was only then that he realized that they were evenly matched under the right circumstances, and so there was importance in guaranteeing that such a thing didn't occur.

While his stance remained as is, he watched the scene with quiet interest. Never before had he actually seen anything that even vaguely resembled those humanoid creatures, and had he been any less he would've even felt unnerved by them. Yet Sync was more curious with how many Nigredo would have to kill before they were satisfied to let them pass. Unlike swords, guns had a limit on how often they could be used.

Shots were fired, the accuracy well for a moving target in midair. One bullet slid past its shoulder, two more thunked into the Standard's side, knocking it down to slam against the floor. It moaned humanly, rolling as it attempted to regain its footing.

Of the other, its arm was blocked nicely and it hissed in distaste, turning it into a keening screech into Nigredo's face. The other arm raised to bring the blade down into Nigredo's shoulder, to main the one of blood, to bring it down to tear it apart.

The other gained its footing, and stumbing, one arm hanging at an angle and side leaking blood, moved forward, slower then before, to attempt to stab into Nigredo's back.

[NPC mod approved modding!]

One off-kilter, another in his sights gained his attention. The screech was unappreciated (the sound intimate enough to tear into waveform) and Nigredo shot the infected standard an indignant look. "Don't," he pressed, venom lacing through the hypnosis. Much good it did as he was virtually ignored, the other responding by raising its free arm to strike.

In a two-part motion, Nigredo knocked the standard with the rifle and yanked his body to the far side of the blade's reach. Though the act was enough to avoid a dismemberment, the blade cut a few centimeters into his bicep and shoulder. Red trailed afterward, forming droplets into stains, and the boy teetered dangerously to the side. There was a wince, a sharpened sense of awareness, and without thinking to the consequences, Nigredo allowed himself to fall. Acting, of course, at the same time. The other arm was grabbed at and tugged, combination of strength and momentum causing the infected unit to trip forward.

Right into the blade meant for the youngest.

Success through luck or sheer foresight, Nigredo didn't care. He simply pivoted the rifle as he landed on his back, pointing the barrel at the siblings above him. A beat passed, and the child opened fire.

Edited 2011-06-15 04:37 (UTC)

That boy truly was skilled, Erika realized, when she immediately saw that his falling act was turned around to his advantage. There was no point in worrying about him, and the detective didn't really; she worried more about his wounds, grimacing when she realized she hadn't packed any bandages or even spare clothing to patch that up. Not that she had any, so they were probably going to sacrifice a shirt to keep the boy from outright dying. In the end though, he really didn't need their help, and the detective was fine with that.

She seemed more irritated then anything, the sounds of screeching and gunfire hurting her ears and unnerving her. The girl truly looked like she'd rather be elsewhere, watching the scene only to make sure that she didn't get surprised if one of those creatures decided to go after a more stationary target.

Mostly, she was wondering why it was taking so long. There wasn't a time limit to this, was there? That's what really made her worry, the detective nervously running through possible "victory" criteria in her head that the other boy might have violated.

If there were any 'criteria' aside from the obvious then Sync was just as determined to make sure Nigredo succeeded, which meant keeping the fight as close to the original set up. He wasn't too worried when one of the creature's blades dug into flesh, because as long as the latter had a high pain threshold then he could rebound with little problems.

And he did, with an impressive set of moves that soon followed the initial push. Whether or not this would prove satisfactory was still undetermined, but the time between these waves allowed for quick feedback. Unlike Erika, none of the noise really affected him, though that may have been because this was a universal scenario.

"Did you bring anything useful," Sync asked as he turned his head just enough to indicate that was talking to Erika. He wasn't going to be pleased if she brought nothing but junk.

Hypnosis tried on a mind taken over by madness would be deemed faulty at best, idiotic at worse. The command passed unnoticed, but the one once labeled as a sibling still made moves to counter, knocking the Standard back yet it still drew blood. It was enough and not enough, and as Nigredo pulled, it followed wholly, ready to finish the task.

Instead it found itself disemboweled by a comrade. Both paused for a solitary moment, simplistic mental processes briefly halted by the change of events. Enough time for Nigredo to react, to release a hail of bullets into both. The already wounded one collapsed instantly, screaming, and the second swayed for a few moments, blood pouring from its torso before joining the other on the ground. Both breathed heavily, gasping for air, shrieking at the lack, and then, as before, blood funneled upwards as their forms collapsed.

There was silence suddenly, stark enough for ears to ring in the lack of sound and motion. The woman's voice came back on. "Phase two, completed." There was a pause, the hum of static. "Beginning phase three."

In tandem, three entryways opened, before Nigredo and to either side. Without a pause for reaction, three more Standards barreled out, forms inhumanly loping towards him. These three were considered an upgrade, and remembered enough of tactics to embed them in action. The leftmost one raised an arm to slash at the boy's neck, while the front one dove to gut the child. The remaining one dropped down, to reach to tear at the tendons in his legs. Place enough threats, and the Variant could not counter them all.

Hindsight would horrify another in his place. A child resorting to ruthless tactics to "pass" a test was an abnormality beyond most. His success only seemed to cement the idea that Nigredo was far from human. When given the chance, he made an excellent weapon. A small part recognized the unrivaled performance among the variants in terms of murder, and he knew he would violently react to it all one day.

All that remained in the present, however, was survival.

He rose to full height, ignoring the pinching sensations in his shoulder and arm. The gun was once again readied, his finger squarely on the trigger, his mind buzzing with awareness. It was the single detail that perhaps spared his life when the voice returned. Three forms rushed in, their targets well-known, leaving Nigredo with a fraction of a second to react. He jumped back--far enough to miss the arm going for the neck--and pulled the trigger at the one in his front.

That unfortunately left the blade for his legs. The back of a sharpened curve caught in one of the calves, forcing Nigredo to stop shooting and take a rolling landing. He finally slid to a stop on his knees and noted with extreme displeasure that he could not rise. The standard must have left a significant cut on his leg, deep enough for the body to temporarily lock his joints in shock.

This was not good. Was, in fact, a terrible problem. Restricted movement lowered his options, forcing him to take stock of what was available. Nigredo might have cursed if he had lacked the distaste for colorful language. He didn't like his own body betraying him like this, and that gave rise to an anger rare and relatively unseen. With no other choices available, the child gritted his teeth and fired into the trio. The three forms were in a relatively close range; a hail of bullets should prove better than nothing.

"No," was Erika's quick response to Sync's question, because it was the truth and because she was actually regretting not having such items herself. The boy had taken another cut, much deeper this time, and his performance was suffering because of it. Now that the odds were no longer in his favor, she waved a hand urgently at Sync to go perform his intended duty.

In the meantime, she decided to take the risk of breaking her concentration on battle to come up with a solution to keep the boy from bleeding out. She didn't have any spare clothing, no, but she did have fabric. The pillowcase's extra volume wasn't needed, so she decided to sacrifice it and untied the pillowcase from her waist, preparing to cut it into ribbons. It was a poor solution, but it didn't matter - she was sure the military would patch up the wound properly the next morning. At least, she hoped so.

"Figures..." Sync muttered, though it was barely loud enough to be heard over what was happening now. Fortunately Erika could make due like the rest of them, though at this point her pillowcase probably wouldn't provide the amount of dressing they would need after this was through.

The God-General had been dangerously close to jumping into the fray when those doors slid open and those creatures came running out. However, he was stopped short when the latter began to shoot wildly into the group, even going so far as to take a step back. While the move itself was just an extension of common sense, it left Nigredo without any sort of opportunity to receive assistance. Sync wasn't about to jump into the torrent of bullets in order to land a hit on one of those monsters, which meant his roommate had to deal with this little setback himself.

The Variant reacted quickly, enough that it was obvious that training had not left him in the time he had been here. The one at the front was taken down before it had a chance to attack, shrieking to the sky and collapsing inward, its high gasps the backdrop for the rest of the remaining fight.

Of the two remaining, Nigredo's attack caught the one who had missed. Bullets tore through its side and it collapsed. Despite the ferocity given to it, it was still alive, and showed that, crawling forward weakly to attempt to attack again.

It was the third that began to show itself as a problem. It was this one that successfully tore through the back of Nigredo's leg, and in the process of Nigredo dodging and retaliating, this Standard had followed the motion, dodging the spray of bullets as it was let out. Nigredo was lower now, on the ground and bleeding, and in the end, that amount was not enough. The Standard darted in from the side, paying no mind to the others. It's arm raised, but in reverse--the intent was to knock the back of the blade into Nigredo's head, and once the Variant was down further, to continue more lethal attacks.

A functioning U.R.T.V. fully locked into its own taint posed one significant problem. Lower limbs in shock posed another. Combined with a closing distance, Nigredo had to make due with a choice: shoot to miss and risk being overwhelmed or stop long enough to cushion the oncoming blow. Pros and cons made the decision simple, and though something in him touched on a third, he moved onto the second.

He raised the rifle in time to prevent the backside of the limb from hitting the child directly, but the force was enough to knock him entirely on his back, head slamming once against the ground. Or again, if you considered the recent weeks. As his perception whirled in an almost nauseating manner, he left the weapon in front of him to prevent getting easily disemboweled (or worse) and wondered sardonically if his recent behavior was due to concussions.

If he managed not to get beheaded, maybe he should invest in a helmet.

She indeed didn't have enough pillowcase to make enough dressing for all of the boy's wounds, though she was mostly concerned about the one he suffered on his leg. Still, even after cutting up the pillowcase as best as she could, she wasn't even sure if this meager amount was enough to bandage that wound.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, as if she was completely removed from the bloody battle raging just a few feet away from her, she lifted up the fabric of her skirt and started to tear at that, leaving the white petticoat underneath. The many ruffles and wrinkles made the fabric difficult to cut straight, but she could stand to lose an inch from it. Erika wasn't going to sacrifice all of her clothing, of course: Sync better damn well make sure some of his clothing didn't get bloodied up either.

As tempting as the prospect was, the end did not justify the means in this state. Nigredo was still too useful to fall in this manner, even if it was likely that the other would revive regardless. Time was something he would no longer take for granted, which meant risking the possibility of tainting the work the latter had performed in the first place.

The moment Nigredo fell back completely was when it finally became necessary to act, and Sync darted forward with unmatched speed towards the remaining creature. He was quick to use that momentum to his advantage, twisting his body and performing a round kick to the monster's temple in an attempt to knock it away from his roommate. But it didn't stop at just that, and the God-General was prepared to make that attempt to knock the creature back once more if it dared to make the same mistake.

Down, went the one created last and unequivocal. The crack of 669's skull pleased something within the Standard, and it wasted no time with the reaction, crouched to spring atop him, bladed forearms at the ready to tear into Nigredo, gouge out his organs and strip flesh from bones. Five had fallen, but the remaining one couldn't be bothered to care. In moments, their goal would be complete despite the losses of--

Something quick and hard cracked into the Standard's head, the force spinning the URTV into the ground a few feet away. It was not enough for actual damage, but still the Standard shook itself, then flipped upward to land in a crouch. It gave a screech at Sync, intruder, it must be punished, it must be deleted, then leapt forward, blades extended forward.

In the moments taken to recover, the weight above him vanished like it had never been, the U.R.T.V. watching in suspended disbelief as help came in the form of one despised. True, his roommate had established himself as a backup. True, this was only to fulfill their agreement. It still took a second to place the reasons why.

Just a second, of course. The infected unit had yet to be incapacitated, and as long as that held as fact, Nigredo could not afford distractions. Especially with the standard's attention preoccupied on Sync--the opportunity proved too perfect for him to do otherwise. From his position on the ground, the boy raised up the rifle, adjusting the position of the scope on the last target. As it leaped toward the other, he pulled the trigger.

More gunfire, and Sync had jumped in, but that didn't distract Erika from her painful task of having to tear her dress apart to help nurse that stupid boy's wounds. Even cutting her dress didn't give her enough usable fabric, so finally, the girl turned the blade on her sleeves and started to shred the fabric around that, exposing her arms up to her elbow.

The girl was none too happy about this, and if that boy didn't make himself useful for the rest of the trip, she was going to kill him herself.

Had Sync been paying attention to Erika he would've laughed and suggested she just take off her entire dress at this point. Yet his focus couldn't have been any farther from his partner, instead working himself away from the monster that he'd attracted. The intent had been to distract, to give Nigredo that chance to recover and use this moment to his advantage.

As soon as he heard the sudden release of gunfire the God-General immediately ducked to the side and out of the way, rolling and holding his head in case any 'stray' bullets were aimed in his direction.

So focused was it on its target that the hailstorm of remaining bullets tore through it with ease. It died instantly, the same as the rest, with near-crying gasps for air, and blood gushing upwards before it vanished. There existed silence, the intercom returned. "Phase three. Complete."

There was a buzz and a whir and a platform raised at the far end of the room, an outline of a door appearing behind it. "Testing complete." The intercom died out, and no further sounds came.

Complete. Complete. The last of the infected fell, and with its death came the acknowledgement of success. The rifle in his hands faded as though it had never been--unsurprising given his last experience and the context. Like he ever expected to keep it. Landel wasn't so generous. Nigredo dropped to his back, eyes fixed on the metal ceiling. It was in that moment that boy realized how hard he had been breathing.

Whether Sync or the female survived the ordeal, Nigredo didn't particularly care. Nor did he value their opinions regarding the matter if they planned to voice any. He would rather stay on the ground for the moment and hopefully recover whatever he had lost.

Right.

If the room was to be trusted, the death of those last three creatures signaled the end of their trial. Whether they were successful or not, she couldn't tell. The immediate result of a door appearing to them was a sign that she truly wanted to take as a good one, but she was done with Landel's tricks for tonight. After shredding most of her clothing, she was feeling rather angry and like this whole trip hadn't been worth anything to her. She couldn't even have the satisfaction of completing it, when there was nothing for her to do.

Well, nothing to do but play nurse. The amount of fabric Erika had was still a bit pitiful, but what did she care. As long as the boy was kept alive until the end of the night, then at the very least none of this would be in vain. So she wasted no time, heading towards Nigredo and kneeling down next to him. The wound on his leg was the deepest one as far as she could tell, not that she was looking, so she grabbed it and started to wrap his leg tightly with the spare fabric.

"That was entertaining, at the very least," She airily commented, sounding like she meant quite the opposite. "I'd give you a C for effort."

As for that door… It was probably best if they all went through together in case another ambush happened, but the boy was in no condition to fight and Erika didn't care to check herself.

"Go check the door, Sync."

Sync could take care of himself. He could do it.

Hearing those words echo against the walls was enough to make the God-General sigh, raising himself from the floor to glance over the damage that Nigredo had done. His roommate looked worse for wear, but Erika was already begrudgingly working to help the other with that meager amount of fabric in her fist. If it wasn't enough he'd toss his own shirt into the mix, but for now he had something else to focus on.

Sync waved Erika off as he made his way over to the door that led to their exit; that is, if this room was anything like what he'd endured before. There was that off chance that this trial was as cruel as the others, and that there were still three more rooms to endure after this.

But as soon as he reached the platform what he saw made him grin. It was just like what he'd possessed before, though he supposed it made sense given the placement of the rooms. Sync took the sword, examining the weapon carefully in his hands, before making his way back to the other two in the room.

"Looks like you still have some use after all," He started, smirking down at Nigredo.

Being "praised" and tended to by the very people who brought him this mess seemed to be a reoccurring theme in his life. The detail was beyond comedic, and unable to restrain himself, Nigredo let out a hollow laugh. The sound reverberated in the near empty room, before cutting off on an exhale. Those familiar with his reticence and preference for propriety might have been shocked by the display, but he supposed his handlers would find it more amusing.

Whatever. They had their prize, but it certainly wasn't their ultimate goal. Nigredo knew as much as the others; one useless sword was only half of the requirement. He smiled sweetly, as he would for an adult who lacked a clue to his intentions.

"Don't forget," the boy said. "We still have to visit the other side." Most of the night had passed already; it was doubtful they would succeed before morning. Or should Nigredo say he was entirely hopeful? Escaping these two would be an improvement.

With that, he turned to the female, noting without humor the sheer lack of frills on her dress. She must be desperate to help a boy she hadn't met until now. How nice of her. Too bad it irritated him. "I hope your rags can keep my leg together," he commented in a tone very similar to the one she had used. "I'd like to be able to move in one piece."

"Of course." It was obvious that the other side needed to be visited as well, though Erika was slightly amused by the fact that the boy seemed to easily accept that they weren't going to give him a breather. Then again, he didn't sound very grateful, knowingly commenting on the state of her once-lovely dress. The girl's brow quirked in anger for a moment, and Erika didn't try very hard to keep the ugly, indignant expression off her face. She didn't want to waste her precious secret weapon for something as petty as this, normally, but Erika didn't care tonight.

"Oh, I assure you that these will do the trick. However, you shouldn't talk so much and waste your strength," Erika 'cheerfully' reminded the boy, drawing out the roll of duct tape on her bag. It made that ever so satisfying tearing noise as she started to pull off a piece, her expression changing just by hearing that exquisite sound.

"Let me help you with that."

One might have thought she would have cruelly used the duct tape to secure his wounds, but while she thought of that, it was too much of a waste when her clothing, which was expendable. On the other hand, she wanted to try and teach this boy the virtues of being silent and that was worth using just a tiny piece. The moment Erika managed to (somehow) tear off a piece of tape, she slammed it down on the boy's mouth and made sure it stuck , kneading her hand over it once over.

"Alright, it looks like the boy has been patched up. We should get going."

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Night 56: Weapons Range

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