damned_institute | Night 58: Recreational Field

[From here.]

The first thing that Sora noticed was how cold it was. It was nothing compared to the night when he'd gone out with Venom, of course, and yet it was still enough to start him shivering. He knew his outfit wasn't really ideal for this kind of weather, but if they kept on the move and walked quickly then he was sure he'd warm up soon enough.

The field seemed to be completely abandoned for the moment, which was hopefully a good sign. It could also mean they were about to be attacked, but Sora tried to be optimistic.

"Straight over the wall," he said, pointing forward even though his flashlight couldn't reach far enough to illuminate the wall in question just yet. "You guys know how to do this by now, right?"

On the far side of the field, behind the equipment shed, Badd quietly pulled his gun. He really should not be here. His job was to make sure the murderers and thieves were taken off the streets and put in prison where they belonged. Keeping them from getting out again was someone else's problem. But an assignment was an assignment, and if he had to stand out here all night and hold back any convicts stupid enough to try and make a break for the wall then he'd do it.

And here came the first customers of the evening. Prison security must be garbage in this place. Even worse, they looked like they were just kids. Disgusting. Criminals were getting younger and younger these days, world was going to hell in a handbasket.

Badd stepped out, gun raised "Turn around and go back inside," he barked, loud enough so they could hear him across the field. "I am armed and I will shoot if you feel like pressing your luck tonight." Of course the most annoying part was the insistence that there not be any fatalities. He wasn't a murderous man, but if he had to drop a suspect he'd do it and these guys had already been convicted of one heinous crime or another. Trying to aim for the limbs just made his life harder and increased his chances of missing the target completely. It was obviously an order given by someone unused to handling guns.

Kairi found herself giggling as she followed Sora out the door, not saying anything else on the matter because, after all, she had been joking. Plus, she knew neither boy was lazy (During the night, anyway. Day was another story.) so it didn't really matter.

However, once they hit the outside air, the princess couldn't help but shudder at the chill air as it hit her skin. Clicking off her flashlight and shoving it into her pocket, she then proceeded to wrap the now free arm around herself, her other clutching tightly onto the sword at her side. "I think this goes without say, but I miss Destiny Islands because it never got cold like this," she said in a hushed tone, trying to keep her mind off of the fact it was cold and that it snowed in this world. Oh, how she missed the beach ...

Kairi nodded to Sora's question, peering out into the darkness. She couldn't help but remember that one time with Axel where there had been some kind of ... rocket ... launching baddie that had tried to shoot at everything that moved. That hadn't been a good night. She only hoped that kind of thing would never happen again.

"Yes," she whispered softly, nodding her head. "Just ... run through. Don't stop for anything -"

Until suddenly there was a voice through the darkness, and Kairi froze at the mention of a gun. Uh oh. She should have known they wouldn't get away that easily. But ... they had to get over there. If they moved fast enough, they had to get away from the shots. "What now?" she asked the boys, frowning.

Kairi's plan had been a good one. It was the one they did before. Somehow, it just figured that they would run into some kind of obstacle. If it wasn't the night ending suddenly, it was something else; this time, it was a guy with a gun. And if Riku learned anything while he was out with Albedo the night before, it was the fact that guns had the same effect. There really wasn't any in-between on that.

"Both of you need to run," he said bluntly, but in a low enough tone to keep it between the three of them. "I'll distract him long enough."

His hands gripped his sword, and he was suddenly glad for the fight with the spiders for a different reason. It meant that he was aware of his limitations, and the last thing he needed was for them to get in the way. He had a feeling the last thing his friends wanted was for him to try and divert this guy's attention from him, but that meant he had to think fast. Riku didn't feel any guilt for that. If there was anything he knew how to do, anything he had to do, it was protect his friends.

That meant he took a step toward the guy—a long stride, even, with his sword up. "That can't happen tonight," he told the guy firmly, and he really hoped that Sora and Kairi would take the hint.

Sora hadn't expected to get stopped up so soon and his expression darkened almost immediately when he heard the voice. It was hard to see the guard completely from so far away, but his orders and threats were loud and clear. Sora stiffened, preparing to make a run for it. It was likely that one of them would end up wounded by the time that they got up and over the wall, but this wasn't a situation where that could be helped.

Just as he was going to tell the others to scatter and run, Riku spoke up, offering himself as the distraction. There was no way that Sora could accept something like that. "Riku, no! We--"

They were going to stick together, and that was that. There was no way he was leaving his friend behind, especially when considering the fact that he'd disappeared from this place so many times. Sora knew he was being stubborn and maybe making the situation worse as a result, but chances were that guy wasn't going to shoot at them until they made a move.

Which Riku then proceeded to do by approaching their opponent. Sora could already tell that there wasn't a good chance of Riku being able to deflect bullets with that blade, which made him even more nervous. "You don't need to do this!" he argued, moving forward to stand at his friend's side. Then he lowered his voice so that only Riku would be able to hear. "Let's just all start running. If we're quick enough, he might miss."

Looked like at least one of them was armed. What horrible security did they have here, that a skinny teenager could get his hands on a sword? They probably passed out at the sight of a full sized serial killer.

Badd advanced on the trio as they kept arguing amoungst themselves. He kept his aim on the white-haired boy, that one seemed like the one most likely to do something stupid. "Oh, I agree," he said. "If you three go back to your cells like good little children then I don't have to fill out paperwork and you don't have to spend the rest of your sentence in the hospital."

Did they think he wouldn't fire on teenagers? That would be a stupid thing to think, even for criminals. His voice turned from snarky to iron-cold. "I don't do warning shots, kid. Move." One sword against a trained policeman with a gun. Badd hoped this would be over quickly, anyone with sense would know they were doomed to fail.

And ... now the boys were going to squabble. Kairi couldn't help but frown and place a hand to her cheek as she tried to think things through. Now that Sora and Riku were close together, if she tried to run, she would probably be shot.

... Or at least shot at.

Honestly, the way the princess looked at things, she had the upper hand here. She could run faster than them if she used the Darkness that flowed through her veins to her advantage, but that always left her feeling like she wasn't in control of herself and just ... like she was going to be taken over again. She didn't want that.

However, if the boys were going to fight over who should be used as the target practice, she would do it. And if they yelled at her, she could easily turn it around on them. The double standards weren't fair, as far as she was concerned.

"We could always go around," she said quietly, frowning. "Since I really don't feel like getting shot right now unless I have to," she warned, looking towards the two boys, her fingertips beginning to tingle.

This was a point when his friends' approaches to things clearly differentiated from his, and it bothered him. It wasn't that he was playing the great self-sacrificing hero, but he wasn't just going to turn around and accept that this was the end of the road. Riku watched Sora out of the corner of his eye. A number of plans popped up in his head, and if he was alone, he could execute them. Or if his friends weren't the way they were, it could happen, as well. It wasn't that he wanted to get frustrated with them for this, but it was happening all the same.

Later, he knew he would see their ways better, but he didn't right now. All the plans were too obvious, too easy—it was all that time of trying to protect himself and fight to live. There was only one time when he thought he would die, and that he walked into it fully aware of the potential consequences. Any other time, he couldn't risk that. If he died, he couldn't protect Sora, he couldn't protect Kairi ...

From where he stood right now, it looked like they thought he'd really dive into doing that again. Did they trust him that little?

But then, they probably had good reason to. Look at everything he'd done.

"But it's just one guy," Riku managed. One guy that was between them and the wall. A three versus one advantage, and all this guy had was a gun. Maybe they weren't as fast, but Riku felt a familiar power brimming inside of him. If he managed to get the guy in the face, he'd probably be stunned long enough ... but he couldn't act yet. His friends might frown on it, and already, his guilt was starting to surge up from the fact that they thought so little of him in a situation like this. They had good reason to.

This really wasn't the time for an argument, and yet Sora couldn't agree with Kairi's idea either. Backtracking just because they'd hit a snag wasn't going to do them much good, especially when they had so far to travel. No, they had to face this head-on, but they were going to do it as a group. Or at least as a pair. Sora's strategies seemed to include mainly himself and Riku, partly because he didn't want Kairi involved and partly because he wasn't as used to fighting alongside her.

He watched as their opponent drew closer, making out his features with the scant light that they had. He was an older man and he had a mean look about him. Sora didn't know why he was talking about sentences like this was a prison instead of...

Well, it kind of was one, wasn't it? But he'd never heard someone talk about it quite like that before.

Riku's response made it clear that he still didn't understand the danger they were in here. If this had been any normal time, Sora wouldn't have protested in the first place. He knew that his friend was strong, maybe even stronger than him, and he would have known that he could take out one enemy. But in this place where their powers were drained and their wounds couldn't be healed, it wasn't that simple. And he'd watched Riku drift in and out of the institute too many times to allow him to run off on his own.

"If we're going to take him on, we do it together," he said, still keeping his voice down. "You run one way, I run the other. He'll have to focus on shooting one of us and then whoever he ignores can go in for a hit, right?" And once the guy was disoriented, they could all make a run for it. Quietly, Sora knew that he was the one who should be taking the bullets, seeing how his Keyblade might not manifest until the last moment. Saying that out loud might just upset his friend, though.

Badd watched them for a few seconds, braced for their next move. Moments passed and he began to realize that the three had elected to stay in place and keep chatting as if Badd wasn't even there, rather than leave or make a suicidal run across the yard. It made a guy feel a little bit insulted.

Badd wasn't comfortable with the idea of shooting kids, or even shooting at kids (because when you had your finger on the trigger you had to be ready to kill). No matter what they'd done to fuck up their lives they still had a lot of life left to go through.

Still, they'd made their choice. Badd aimed for the legs of the one with the sword. If that one went down, hopefully his buddies would get the idea. At this range in this light and this situation Badd couldn't be certain of hitting his target...or at least hitting the body part he'd aimed at. With the way they were clumped together he might even hit the short one or the girl. Either way it wasn't important as long as he got the point across.

"I said, move!" he shouted, and fired.

They were still not moving. Kairi listened to the two boys as they spoke about attacking the man - Sora one way, Riku the other - and the redhead instantly felt that usual sinking in her stomach. I'm going to be left behind again.

Turning her head, she swallowed down the ache in her heart and opened her mouth to speak -

When suddenly there was a gunshot from the man, and he was shouting, and without thinking, Kairi screamed, lifting her hands to cover her head, even though she knew well enough her arms would not be able to stop a bullet. "Just run for it! Separate! He can't aim for us all at once!" She had no idea where the man had aimed. She had no idea where he was currently aiming. All she knew was that standing around waiting to see what they would do was not working, and though they would probably be upset with her ...

Kairi gripped tightly onto the sword by her side and began to ran across the field, forcing the two boys into action whether they were ready to or not. If worst came to worst, she would use the Darkness for a little boost, but that was it. That's all, she though to herself, almost as if she was talking to that dark part of her side itself.

Later, it would dawn on Riku that none of this made any sense. Why were these guys still out doing this while they got that speech from last night? This was something that Sora and Kairi mentioned to him before, and it seemed ludicrous now. But at the moment, he wasn't thinking of that. His own self-berating had to be set aside as well. Thinking fast didn't mean having the time to truly analyze what it meant that Sora and Kairi thought that way of him—rightfully, too.

No, he just needed to move.

He realized a second too late where the gun was aimed and where the bullet was headed before he managed to move. For the most part, he avoided the attack, but even from a distance, the guy could have been shooting to kill. He was just trying to disable them. That put them at an advantage. The disadvantage was that the bullet had cut through his right leg—or rather, right along the side of his thigh. It was a grazing, but it was enough to send warm heat rushing through him. With his friends here, that meant nothing; pain was nothing. They needed to get away.

"Run!" he shouted to Sora, affirming what Kairi had said. He hoped his friend didn't hesitate this time to prove a point. No matter how stupid Riku was in the past, or how much he hadn't changed now, there were some things that needed to happen.

For him, the pain was somewhat dizzying as he started to move. Each hard slam of his feet against the ground reminded him of his injury. He knew it wasn't a good idea, but he held up his hand and sent a dark blast in the direction of their assailant as he ran past (from a distance, of course). If he was right, that would be the only chance they got at that tonight. But he couldn't think—just as it had the night before, that stripped him of his energy. Maybe that wasn't such a good idea. In the end, securing his friends' escape was the only thing on his mind. They might not get killed, but seeing them hurt was the last thing he wanted.

In the end, any plan he made, no matter how sensible, just didn't matter. They'd used up the man's patience and the sound of the gunshot echoing across the open field almost caused Sora to jump. That was more than enough to spur anyone into action, and having both of his friends yelling orders at him meant that Sora was done being stubborn.

He took off across the field after them and quickly overtook Riku. That was no surprise when the other boy had been shot at. Sora didn't know how bad it was, but the way that Riku was limping made it clear that it'd hit him in the leg.

That was pretty much the worst place he could have been shot, seeing how they still had to climb the wall. Sora wanted to take up the rear and make sure that Riku didn't end up with any more injuries, but he knew that the time for being protective was long over. What he hadn't expected was for Riku to be able to send out concentrated darkness right at their opponent. This was the first time he'd seen him use that power here, and the fact that he still had access to it was unexpected.

Maybe he should have let him handle this after all. His protests had still led to Riku getting hurt, so what good had it done? Sora clenched his jaw and shook his head, knowing that it was rare for things to work out properly here no matter what you did. Keeping his gaze settled on Kairi's back, he continued to run, one ear out to make sure that Riku was keeping up.

Winged one, by what he could see in the dim light, but not enough to stop him running. Badd whirled to follow them and fired again before something dark and warm sent him sprawling. He was left shuddering on the grass for several seconds while his body tried to figure out what the hell had just hit it.

It wasn't a bullet, he'd been shot far too many times to not know what a gunshot felt like. But it had hit him hard and left him weak.

Job still to do. Shake it off. Get up. Badd staggered to his feet and took after the prisoners, too dazed to yell another warning. It wouldn't matter anyway. The trio had decided they had a death wish, or at least a vigorous bodily harm wish, and Badd would be happy to grant it.

She could barely hear the boys behind her. Kairi turned her head slightly to look back at Riku and Sora - just in time to see Riku appear to shoot something at the man that was shooting at them. Through the darkness, she could see the man's body fall for a moment before ... getting back up.

Faster, she hissed to herself, hearing another set of footsteps moving after them.

She had to think of something, especially considering it sounded like one of them was slowing down. Who? She knew they had been shot at before, but she hadn't seen anyone actually get shot ... but that had been because she had been so quick to move. Still, she couldn't help but let that worry flow through her as she neared the wall.

And once she reached it, Kairi waited, beginning to climb, but stopping. She had to see which one of them was hurt first, because if it came to it, she was more than willing to use the Darkness to stop the man at least for long enough to get them over the wall.

Fatigue made each one of his steps heavy—then heavier—and heavier still, until he almost couldn't make it to the wall. Riku ground his teeth as he managed, just as the bullets started coming again. Was this guy insane? Stray bullets could kill, which made him believe that this wasn't just shooting for nothing. This guy meant business. He didn't know how much further he could go, but he forced himself up and over the wall after casting a final glance in the direction of his friends.

If he could make it, despite the fatigue and everything happening, so could they. His only worry was how determined this guy was. If he was this desperate to get them, would he follow them right out of Landel's?

Riku hoped not.

[to here]

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1162099.html?thread=80092531#t80092531).]

Time dragged behind Billy. No matter how fast his legs moved, it wouldn't change the slow, sickly advance of the clock. Each second was an eternity without the steady rush of adrenaline had had been riding. He was ill in its wake, with little else to carry him. Every uncontrolled moment was an opportunity to get lost. He was edging along the precipice of his own mind... or someone else's mind, as the case might have been. It felt so much like himself, though. Nothing had changed. He remembered nothing knew. He had forgotten nothing.

Billy didn't feel new as he emerged into the cold night. He gasped at the bite of the air, and watched the steam of his breath swim away from him. He didn't remember this chill. It didn't feel like the night he had just left, and that was what finally made him shiver.

He stared up at the sky, but if it told him anything, Billy couldn't understand it. It just felt wide and large, oblivious to everything, especially Billy. Exposed, he took shelter in the shadows, even if it was a little to late to do anything but let him pretend to be safe. From there, he noted the treeline. When he saw no suggestion of buildings, least of all a city beyond it, Billy's stomach turned. Something in him twisted. He wanted to scream, or maybe just cry.

Another one. Badd hadn't gotten a great look at him but he'd seen movement. He raised his gun and circled around to where he'd last seen the prisoner, his tattered trenchcoat trailing behind him like a battered cape.

"There's no tea parties out here, princess," he announced. "Turn around and go back inside or I'll shoot." He couldn't see more than one, but it was dark and criminals were sneaky. It was possible another one was waiting to jump him as soon as he got too close to a shadow-shrouded wall.

Badd had been hoping for a quiet night where the actual prison guards would do their actual jobs to keep the prisoners from getting outside in the first place. But hope didn't get you anywhere in police work, and an order was an order. Beyond some minor...indiscretions, Badd liked to think he wasn't one of those cowboy cops who only obeyed orders when they felt like it. The badge and the oath applied even when he'd have greatly preferred to be at home watching TV.

The voice arrested his descent into frustration. An American voice. What light was there caught the shape of the gun. Even if it hadn't, the stranger's posture gave the weapon away. The shadows couldn't hide Billy from bullets, and glass ground uneasily from somewhere nearby. Billy didn't need to question the noise this time. The man could kill him if he wanted. His coat cast a a shredded shadow across the ground, but Billy was only watching the gun.

A warning was more than he had expected. More than he had been given in a long, long time. He didn't know what to say. He was dumb in the face of chivalrous enemies. His fingers closed around a weapon that he didn't have. He missed it, the security, even if he'd be bleeding on the ground before he could get a shot of his own off. He'd die here, a casualty of someone else's war, or maybe it really was an obscure branch of his own, but he'd at least be armed with Dane's gun. He could go down pretending to be a soldier. Ridiculous, but he didn't think Dane would mind.

Billy shed his cover, and came out with his hands raised, reaching halfheartedly to the still intact sky. "I'm not armed," he yelled back. He was impressed by how collected he sounded. "But I am lost."

Edited 2011-09-17 16:27 (UTC)

Two hands up just meant he was probably hiding a weapon in his waistband. Badd kept his gun trained on the convict, though he was obediently aiming low to reduce the risk of hitting vital organs. It was hard to see him in the shadows, just a badly defined dark blob of a man, but there was enough shape for Badd to have something to aim at.

Still, points for honesty.

"You bet you're lost. That was the out door. You want the in door." Badd flicked his gun to the side to indicate the door in question, then turned his aim back to the prisoner. "Go back to your cell and sit quietly until we get a handle on things and you might get a shorter sentence instead of a very short sentence." He made himself sound annoyed, as if he was just a misplaced word away from firing on him out of sheer irritation. Inwardly he was glad that this one didn't seem to be pressing his luck. Maybe he'd just go inside quietly and not bother Badd with filing a weapons fire report.

His problems continued to mount. The jumbled bits of information he had gleaned from the staticy radio voice or the intercom were joined by allusions to imprisonment, which was not an unrealistic threat to Billy's progress. Still, he was astonished. That hadn't been some police cell, and from what Billy had seen of the building, it didn't much look like a police station either. It had been quite some time since the authorities were the worst of his worries. But how do you tell someone that their concerns don't matter? Exposing the big picture, begging them to realize how small they are, and convincing them that one convict who was not a convict was someone they should just let slide.

Across the city, across the world, people felt the times dying. It's last rattling breaths left the world shaking. In their own ways, they panicked and scrambled to avert it, just as Billy had. Was this someone else's gambit to save the world? He was in another soul's desperate attempt to avert disaster. Maybe it was this man's, maybe not.

"Wait." He tried for a firm but gentle tone. Anything to take the homicidal edge out of the other man's voice. He wasn't sure if it had hit the note he wanted, or if there was a tremor in his own words now. "I'm not a prisoner."

It was a bad excuse, the kind of excuse he might get shot for, even if it was honest. Honest so far as he could recall. "I was with Officer Collingswood," he added in a rush, the words flooding out of him naturally. "I'm a consultant. I need to find her."

And the honesty was too good to last. Apparently the prison here had decided to assume Badd was an idiot and come up with some lazy excuse about how he wasn't really a criminal, it was a simple misunderstanding, just let me through and I'm sure you won't get in trouble for it later.

Badd tilted his head to the side. It was probably impossible to see his expression in the darkened yard but in the light his face would give the impression that he had been given enough b-s today and was not eager for more. As the bard said, criminals were a cowardly lot. Badd had yet to be surprised by the bizarre lengths they'd go to in order to get out of taking responsibility for their actions like adults.

"Really," he said in a dry, disbelieving voice. "So on your way out of the building you just decided to knock out a prisoner and take their clothes? You're wearing the same outfit as the last set of idiots I chased out of here."

He really shouldn't be having this conversation. If the prisoner took a single step forward Badd would fire, and really he should have started firing already. But it would be nice to end this without paperwork--er, bloodshed.

Billy's hands dropped to the breast of the uniform. It was like no prisoner's uniform he had seen. The blue shirt had the starched look of the most general of military costumes. While it fit well enough, Billy couldn't feel any connection to a thing that suggested he could pass as an enlisted man. He imagined his narrow shoulders, and the hair that had become less and less well tended to. He exhaled with a shaky gasp.

"I don't know." He was pleading, he realized. "Maybe I am a prisoner, but I don't remember being arrested, or what I did to get here." Another half-truth. It was less that he hadn't been arrested, and more that this was simply not how the situation should have played out, even if he had been dragged unconscious into the back of a squad car sometime between his last memories and now. He anxiously looked back at the unwavering muzzle of the gun. He didn't have time for this. No one had time for this. But the control was with the weapon. The man's refusal to relax even a little was starting to creep under Billy's skin. An extended conversation didn't seem to be much discouragement from considering filling Billy with holes.

"Can you help me?" he asked the gun, or the man behind it, wondering which would answer him. He remembered Dane holding his hand to the crawling warmth of a gunfarmer wound, and tried to imagine his own corpse incubating the next generation. Would a gunfarmer have waited this long? No, not if they knew who he was. "I just need to know where I am, or what day it is."

Edited 2011-09-19 18:42 (UTC)

[from here, with Wichita in tow]

Cold, but not as cold as it had been the last few days, and certainly not as cold as it had been on Delta Vega. The snow appeared to have melted since a couple nights ago, and Kirk's boots sank into manicured grass of the rec field as he headed in the direction of the shed.

He didn't get far, because right in front of them was a scene which killed whatever pick-up line he was considering trying on Wichita next. Two men, silhouetted by the dim moonlight, facing each other with the metallic gleam of a twentieth-century-style gun between them. A gun held in the hand of the taller man, pointed in the direction of the rest of them.

—where I am, or what day it is, the second man was saying, and Kirk immediately recognized his confusion for what it was. A brand new patient, without enough sense to know what he was facing here. As far as he could tell, the armed man was human, but that tattered coat definitely didn't suggest a soldier.

Special Counselling. Awesome.

"Excuse me!" Hiding in the shadows didn't even cross Kirk's mind — he wouldn't have been able to manage it, anyway, not with the bright gold of his shirt practically making him a beacon in the dark. The only thing he was worried about was his companion, and he shot Wichita a serious look and muttered, "Stay back," before ambling over to the second man's side.

The odds were not good. Between the three non-brainwashed prisoners, their only weapon was Kirk's metal pipe, and he was pretty sure that wasn't going to deflect a bullet. But hell, the worse the odds, the better Kirk kept his cool. "This is really unnecessary, isn't it?" he called out, letting his voice carry. "I mean, we're all on the same side here."

Edited 2011-09-20 05:17 (UTC)

"Jesus." No, Wichita still wasn't at all used to this cold. She was longing for California sun again even as she followed Kirk, knowing that getting a weapon was more important than letting the cold get the best of her and running back inside. She could handle this. Even though her hands were balled up into fists, and her pace doubled just so they could move along a little faster, she was sure she could--

Oh, good. A guy with a gun. And-

Oh, even better. Riverside was yelling at him. She almost forgot she was traveling around with one of television's greatest damn heroes. Though then, he kind of wasn't in these situations, not really. If she was remembering right, people died on that show all the time. God, had she really managed to sign herself up to act as a Red Shirt on another 'away mission'? Sure, he'd save the damsel in distress, but she'd likely get eaten by a tribble or some shit before then. Go freaking figure.

'Stay back'. Yeah, no problemo, Cap. Good luck with this one.

Wichita watched him move towards the other guy rocking the same uniform she was, and she slowly crept back, more importantly just away, trying to get out of sight. Screw that, she wasn't going over there. Not when the shed was right there, a few yards out, and it didn't look huge but maybe she could hide in it. That was better than standing there in plain sight.

Time to test out that cardio rule. Riverside hadn't even finished with his big entrance before Wichita was off, moving from zero to sprinting as fast as she could manage it, and she wasn't looking back. Her goal was clear, but that didn't matter, there was no point in being subtle when she knew that gun could be turned on her at any second.

Edited 2011-09-20 05:45 (UTC)

See? This was why he shouldn't be getting chatty. Two more prisoners had just crawled out of the woodwork. Badd narrowed his eyes at the one in the yellow shirt. Definitely not a guard, but not wearing prisoner clothes either. He'd hate to throw a civilian back into general population.

Buuut it was more likely that the guy had found a janitor's closet and stolen someone's old shirt. Badd would not be susceptible to any more sweet talk or pathetic excuses, he got enough of those during his regular workday. "Getting really tired of everyone's bull--"

Movement. The third one, the one who hadn't announced herself like an idiot, had decided to make a break for it. Badd whirled and fired a shot in her direction before taking off running after her. The movement was barely conscious, more like the trained instincts of a hunting dog than anything human. He saw threatening movement, he chased it, he attacked it, he tried to tear the life out of it.

[switching posting order with Billy!]

Kirk saw him turn, saw Wichita moving like a dart from the corner of his eye. "Wich—!" The echoing gunshot cut off the rest of his shout, and Kirk's eyes barely took her in for a second before landing back on the gunman, seeing him run. He'd been fully prepared for several things to happen. Himself getting shot, the glasses guy getting shot, glasses guy fleeing... A sane conversation honestly hadn't ranked even in the top five of the list; all Kirk had wanted was to throw the gunman's attention off of Glasses, hoping to buy time.

Well, he got it. Regardless now of whether or not they were all on the same side, right now Kirk had to assume the guy had been brainwashed into doing anything for the Institute, and he didn't doubt "killing fellow prisoners" would be on that list. Kirk allowed himself only enough time to utter a single swear word before acting.

"Come on!" Without waiting for a response, Kirk grabbed the wrist of the bespectacled man beside him, and ran after them.

Edited 2011-09-21 17:16 (UTC)

The gunfire was almost drowned by the splintering of glass just before it happened, but still too late. The sudden headache spoke to him in the way it always had, and Billy didn't have the time to question it, let alone hope that it would even think to answer questions. This sad thing that mistakenly loved him, and now urged him on and sped his feet as the other man seized his wrist. Dreamlike, Captain Kirk dragged him into action, but it only took a startled second before Billy was running with him. The questions he might have had for his angel or his hero were left behind.

He had some time for calm observational clarity before the guard (what else could he be?) had shot. A young man, movie star handsome and bizarrely familiar, had stepped out to join him. Billy was still dumbstruck by his dedication to being in character. Nuances aside, casually going to assist some stranger being held at gunpoint was befitting his perfectly pressed golden uniform. Billy had just stared. He listened to the words, and registered that it was some half-realized rescue attempt. Never, even in the deepest of his sorrows, had he imagined this kind of childish fantasy. The squid's possession of his dreams hadn't allowed Simon's room to creep into Billy's subconscious, but it was hardly as though Star Trek hadn't played a role in his reality.

Kirk said something else before taking Billy with him, but he had missed it. The words were lost, and so grinding glass told him all he needed to know. Go. Go. Go go go. They were aiming for whoever had been shot. Before, it had been simply a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, but now it was a woman.

The flaw with initiating Rule #1 in this situation, Wichita quickly realized, was that zombies didn't carry guns, while this man certainly did. She was confident that she could run faster than a zombie ~~if she had a head start~~ but she couldn't run faster than a bullet. But that didn't matter! At least, she didn't think it would. Because she didn't expect him to shoot first, then chase. That wasn't in the game plan. In fact, she didn't actually believe it was a possibility until she felt someone punch her right in her shoulder with enough force to make her cry out with the shock of it.

Wait, mm no, she didn't get punched. This was more direct, a sharp crack of pain that ran from her shoulder, down her arm into her fingers, and up her neck, all at the same time. Which was a tiny bit more painful than a punch. They must have thrown a brick at- no, what was it?

Ah.

Yeah, that was blood. It was cold enough outside to make it clear that the warm, sticky fluid that was drenching the back of her shirt was blood, and that must have meant that the reason why it hurt so much was because she managed to get herself shot. It was weird how time flashed forward so fast when she just needed a little more of it, and how it slowed when she'd much rather have it move right along. Which was exactly what was happening then. Time must have shot forward when she tried to, because how did she manage to only make it a few feet before there was a bullet lodged in her arm? And now that it was there, she felt everything sort of shift oddly, so slow, in that her body was still in RUN mode, but she couldn't actually do that anymore.

The force of it made her trip, though somehow she wasn't lying face first on hard ground just yet. Maybe it was her 'fight or flight' instinct still rearing it's flighty head, because she stumbled forward a few more steps before finally stopping, her left hand moving to hold onto her right arm because -- ow fucking fuck it hurt!

She was in shock, maybe, because nothing else seemed to matter. Just that she was hurt, and this was different than home, so much different and maybe worse, somehow. Worse than sick people trying to see what your heart tasted like. Which was really hard to accept quickly, okay. So she wasn't trying to. She was mostly just trying to figure out if it'd be worth trying to get to the shed, at this point, when her right arm was useless and she wasn't sure she'd make it that far anyway.

One down. Badd didn't know if this meant she was out of action or just wounded enough to stumble, but he had two other up and running targets to deal with. Normally he'd have backup to make sure she wasn't going to whip out a gun and shoot him in the back while she lay bleeding on the ground, but when you were alone you did what you could.

The gold one made the most obvious target, and seemed to be most aggressive. Stupid, maybe, trying to be a hero for his fellow crooks, or just the kind of idiot who'd charge an armed police officer and assume he'd get out alive. He'd target that one. The dark one was more submissive, but a criminal could turn on you in a moment. By definition they were liars.

Badd's assessment of the situation took place so fast that it was barely conscious. His brain added up factors, measured distance and bullet trajectory, picked his target and pose, and then went about the business of handing out instructions to the rest of the body.

No fatalities. But also no promises. He shifted his weight to his other leg, pivoted, and fired two shots at the men running towards him.

[Switching order with Kirk again!]

The gun fired, Billy clenched. Tension ran through his gut and out into time itself. It was unpolished, and spoke nothing of the careful, conscious way he had been arresting time lately. This was just some instinctual, barely realized lunge at the clock's throat, the kind he often hadn't even noticed he was doing weeks ago. Even now it took a second for Billy to realize he was still moving as nothing else did, pulling the would-be Captain with him. In the next moment, he caught on, and he was the one with a firm grip on the other man, dragging him out of the bullet's path, just barely out of the trajectory.

The woman was on the ground ahead of them, and she grew more distinct as they got closer. Dark hair, longish, and dressed in the same uniform as Billy. There was time to look. Not much, but a little. He was in an unnatural second, busy with movement, but only his movement. It gave him a feeling of being in control, or even powerful, which was ridiculous. It was ridiculous last week, and it was even worse right now. As soon as it ended (he could feel his grip slipping, and the splintered seconds healing) the man with the gun would still be waiting and readying a second round of shots.

They would have to take the offensive, or get under cover and engage in what would probably be a very short one-sided gunfight. Neither prospect chilled Billy anymore. They were simply the things he had to deal with now, and it didn't matter how good or bad he was at it. It wouldn't even be as if it were the first time he'd be doing this without Dane. Billy was glad, suddenly, that his frozen moment was over.

Time lurched, stretched its arms, and caught up with them.

Edited 2011-09-25 02:58 (UTC)

Two shots rang out in the night. Kirk had been shot at before. Granted, last time he'd had plenty of cover and a phaser in his hand to fire back, but the essential strategy remained the same: don't get shot. Spock could've explained the exact differences between a metal bullet and phaser fire, but Kirk was sure that either way, it would hurt like hell. No time to dodge, not if he didn't want to risk his companion getting shot. He moved as fast as he could, angling his body lower, only to realize too late that the gunman was aiming low in the first place.

The snow-covered field shifted; pain exploded from his upper arm as a bullet tore through it, and the grip of the glasses-wearing man was suddenly hard on him, and they were still running. Something had happened, but Kirk wasn't going to question it. Wichita was right up ahead, and they had less than seconds to lose. Aiming low or not, he did not believe the gunman had been brainwashed to give a shit about the patients' lives.

"Grab her!" Kirk yelled to Glasses. His plan was desperate, stupid and probably not a little reckless, but he didn't see anyone else coming up with ideas. His companion's other hand closed on Wichita's arm, and Kirk brought his metal pipe up and slammed it down on the silver ring on his finger.

The red stone shattered.

[to here]

Edited 2011-09-26 05:16 (UTC)

[from here]

As she ran, she rearranged. Trees were pretty, but they weren't easily weaponized. She'd made a tactical error; she wanted less firepower, not more. She didn't have anything soft that would fly except for the possibility of snowballs.

So Rose improvised. Batteries scattered like autumn leaves, or perhaps pinecones, being more squat and heavy and less numerous, and she yanked her plastic needles out of her sylladex as she ran towards the middle of the field.

"Lily?"

Badd was out in the middle of the yard when the young woman came dashing out, calling some name Badd didn't care about. He was far enough away that a called shot was unlikely, but he could still see well enough to get a bead on her.

More kids. Had he gotten assigned to juvvie and everyone had forgotten to tell him? This one looked even younger than the rest. A crook was a crook, no matter their age, and she should still be old enough to have the good sense not to run from an armed cop, but shooting at kids still made him feel a little uncomfortable.

Whatever. Assignment, job to do. "Stop our I'll shoot!" he shouted. Not quite the appropriate lengthy police disclaimer, but he'd been out here too long to care. They were taking the field at a run, too, if he stopped to chat they'd just get over the wall and that was that.

Ilia wasn't quite prepared for a confrontation from a man larger than herself, but she should have expected nothing less than a chimera at this point. She had let her guard down again. One of these days she would remember to think like a soldier at all times, even when she was also warring with the mother and friend sides of her psyche.

"Don't shoot! She's just a child! We're looking for someone!" Ilia remained loose on her feet, ready to bolt if necessary. She needed to protect Rose, but there was little she could do against a gunman. Unless she threw herself bodily in front of a bullet, which was the last thing she wanted to do.

Those painkillers she had back in her room wouldn't be much help for a bullet to the brain.

Rose came skidding to a halt. The man was, as things went, the diametrical opposite of Lily. He was, however, clearly under the same influence. Which made it a good place to start.

She raised her hands in what she hoped was a universal gesture.

"True." She took a step back towards Ilia. "A girl about my age. Her name is Lily. Have you seen her?"

The disclaimed representative of Japan had only threatened them when they tried to pass; it seemed this threat was the same, and thus he could answer a few simple questions. If he chose to. Either way, perhaps she could answer the question of whether they merely were under threat, or if there was some kind of psychological influence.

At least they weren't moving. Badd kept his gun up in case the kids decided to do something stupid and keep running. "I don't generally ask their names. They'll get the prison locked down eventually, go back inside and I'm sure you'll find her tomorrow." If she wasn't stupid enough to get herself shot at.

Society was rotting when little girls like that did things to warrant a prison sentence, rotting from the inside out. It made Badd mad enough to spit molten lead. If he could just get this pair to behave and not make their sentence any longer than necessary, maybe he could at least get something useful done tonight. He really didn't want to shoot them. Whatever they'd done so far, he couldn't imagine they deserved it.

Sometimes this job really, really sucked.

It didn't seem likely Lily had also been posted here if this man was tonight's guard. He seemed almost normal compared to the other Special Counseling patients she had had the unlucky pleasure of running into during nights past. But no doubt he was dangerous. He had a gun and she didn't doubt his words when he said he would shoot.

"We'll go back. C'mon, Rose." Ilia waited, intent on making sure Rose had moved somewhere behind her before backing up in slow steps herself.

His words about this place being a prison were accurate, even if it was the wrong label this place normally tried to uphold. Apparently the brainwashed ones really did think they were doing good, or at least not just fighting mental patients for the heck of it. This man thought he was keeping in prisoners? What, were they supposed to be convicts or something?

Rose backed up, one tiny, short-legged step at a time. There was a balance to be kept. The faster she got back inside, the sooner they could look for Lily. But every moment his eyes were on her were another one in which a different party could sneak by. The longer she took, the easier the timing.

"Do you know where else to look?" She spoke loudly enough that the man could answer if he liked, though the question was directed at Ilia. "I have a map, but it's just paper." No little blinking lights designating their target tonight.

[from here]

Outside the field appeared to be the same as ever, except for the freezing temperature. After the fight she had with Evangeline, she wondered how the institute was able to repair the field in just a few hours after they'd decimated about half of the field. Was it the work of magic or something else more sinister? If Evangeline were to hear that, she would probably yell at Chise for thinking such a useless thought and hurry up. It has been almost a week since she last seen the small girl. For some strange reason, Chise kinda missed being around Evangeline and her bossy attitude.

"From what I remember, the walls should be straight ahead and--oh no." Up ahead in the middle of the field there was an older man shouting at another patient. Another brain-washed patient. "Do you think we can get past him if we ran towards the west wall?"

"Up and over, I'm sure it'll be really easy!" he replied as he followed Chise's lead, keeping close on her tail as they made their way outside. The cool air was actually refreshing, not something he'd felt in a long while. As for how easy it would actually be... well, that depended entirely on who was outside waiting for them. The field was notorious for injuries, monsters, and who knew what else and he was sure they both knew it.

As he caught sight of the patients further up, he shook his head. As much as he'd like to get by them, he wasn't going to risk Chise getting hurt. "Maybe. You're right, let's keep to the west wall, okay? Don't look back, I'll cover you."

That was probably the one good thing about the heavy coat. It made for excellent cover. And whether it was a man with a gun or a disappearing, reappearing humanoid that could barely speak, it seemed to do the trick for helping them make a clean getaway. He urged her toward the wall, putting his back to the other patients.

"Let's hurry."

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1162099.html?thread=80371827#t80371827)]

The cold air hit him like a ton of bricks. It was a good thing they'd only be out here for a little while, or else they'd both freeze to death or something. Shivering just a little bit, Niikura stepped to the side to let Shiina out and then squinted as he scanned the field with his flashlight. He could hear some shouting; maybe someone had run into a monster?

A gunshot. Shit! Niikura's flashlight froze as it illuminated the silhouette of a vaguely familiar man: Badd. Trenchcoat and all, huh, detective? Figured...

No time to lose. Normally, he'd tear out there no matter what the consequences since he had nothing to lose. Get shot once or twice, not like that wasn't known to him. As long as they got those bats--but no, now he had Shiina with him, and even though she had already died once before, he wasn't going to put her in that kind of situation again.

Niikura whipped around. "Get back inside!" he snapped.

He didn't seem to realize her position on the matter. She wasn't offended, just understanding of what would be expected of her from now on. Shiina wasn't going to burden Shou this time if she had a say in the matter. "It's alright, Shou-kun."

She did as he told, staying quietly behind him as he exited the building. Shiina froze at the sound of a gunshot, the mentally berated herself for losing her cool over just a gunshot. She was prepared to jump out there and race past the gunman alongside Shou if he wanted to keep going, but then he turned back.

She stared at him for a full second before grabbing his hand, her eyes flashing in defiance. "Only if you come with me!" She wasn't going to negotiate on this matter. It was either both of them stay or both of them leave.

Ah, great, really? For one second, Niikura was willing to have this argument where he told her over and over again not to worry about him, that he'd have everything under control, and that he'd be back before she knew it in some form or another. He'd overpower her resolve by sheer will and then do what needed to be done. Alone.

Except that, as he met her eyes, he realized that that couldn't be the case anymore. If he died here, he didn't know what would happen afterward. If he came back, would he be blank or Shou? And if he died, he would be abandoning Shiina right after she'd found "him" again. And that would be a jerk move to Hazama, ditching his girl in the lurch like that.

"Rrrr..." Niikura ground his teeth as he took one last look at the shed. Damn it! So close and yet so far...he hated having his hands tied like this. "Sheesh, me runnin' away... that's so uncool." But that would be it from him on the matter; he wrenched the door open and stalked back inside, taking Shiina with him.

[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1162099.html?thread=80559987#t80559987)]

Night 58: Recreational Field

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