damned_institute | Night 59: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

Entry tags:

Night 59: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

[Coming from here.]

Daemon glided out into the wider corridor and paused for a moment, letting Renji join him, taking a moment to probe the shadows with his senses, looking for anything out of the norm. There was a tingle down his spine, the sensation of being watched, though he couldn't find its exact location, just the knowledge that it was there. He paused, debating on whether it was worth the effort of searching out, or leaving it to others while he and Renji kept heading for the stairs. He could see them from here, the door illuminated by his witchlight just off to his right.

He waited for Renji to join him, figuring the Shinigami would want a say.

"There are things moving in the shadows," he murmured to the redhead as the male moved out from the corridor behind him. Daemon didn't look at all disturbed by this statement, floating a few inches above the ground with a relaxed grace that was utterly foreign for their situation. Looking almost bored, he studied his black-tinted nails with a sleepy, hooded gaze.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yes," Renji growled, sounding more amused than anything, "he does have a name." He smirked as he walked along at Daemon's side. "And he's itching for a fight."

He paused next to Daemon, head cocked slightly as he listened to something that wasn't quite physical. "Well, not our problem if there's something that wants to die tonight, is it. But we should probably clean house as we go. There are kids running around, you know. Someone could get hurt." He gave Daemon a wicked grin. "Don't worry sweety, I'll protect you."

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1185201.html?thread=80834225#t80834225)]

There were already people this far out, too. Again though, they had nothing to do with Vino for now. But he did catch when someone quietly pointed out the moving shadows. Yes, moving shadows. He'd noticed them, too.

Vino didn't stay though. He had other places to be. It seemed like this spot was taken, anyway, if these two men seemed to be talking about what he thought they were. He could find his own spot.

No, no, wait! Shoulder, injuries, magic, yes. He was an adventurer tonight, a hero. He wasn't allowed to get distracted, even if the shadows were drawing him in. And he had a couple meetings to attend to. Couldn't forget those. Too many interesting things to pay attention to. But Vino would manage. He always did. Time to deal with them all at once! (The best method, Vino always felt, and the one that worked. Others disagreed, found it downright impossible even, though he could not understand how. Obviously, the way to overcome everything was to overcome it. How was this so difficult to do?)

He moved on, senses tingling. If there was time to kill before his meetings, maybe he'd take a peek into the shadows and see what monsters he could drive out.

[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1187721.html)]

Edited 2011-10-24 19:14 (UTC)

Daemon gave a quiet, derisive snort. "Oh, that's very reassuring," he drawled, his tone dry as his golden eyes searched the darkness. There. A glint of eyes in the blackness, a shadow a bit deeper than that surrounding it. More than one.

"We have company, darling. It's rude to keep them waiting," he crooned, his gaze hooded with a dangerous glint in icy golden eyes. he glided a bit further down the hall, able to make shapes out now. Felines. Large, and black as the night they were melting out of. It was hard to judge their number. Three? Four? It didn't matter.

This would do to whet his appetite.

Renji laughed. "I'll take the far side. See you in the middle." He moved smoothly from standing still to shunpo, seeming to just disappear. He noted the position of the various cats as he ran through their midst too fast to be seen.

At the far side he turned to face the cats and slid to a halt on the smooth floor as he drew Zabimaru.

One of the smarter animals was already turning toward him, gathering itself to spring. He drew his sword, shouting, "HOWL!"

It wasn't necessary, of course; he could silently release Zabimaru into his shikai as easy as breathing. But damn, it just felt good.

The sword transformed from katana to whip as he struck, sharp segments tearing through the cat's side. He twisted the hilt and spun into a second strike, then a third, reducing the stinking animal to bloody shreds and shards of bone.

Another cat screamed, and he caught motion from the corner of his eye as it sprang at him. But he was already in motion.

[From here.]

There were a million questions to answer and Peter's mind was nothing but a big old blank. He knew I.R.I.S. had been freaking out. And there was the pink glow, and no real announcement after dinner ended, so something had to have been borked somewhere. But that did not mean he was anywhere close to getting his hopes up because really? Cutting them a break now? He'd been here for the better part of a month, Peter knew better than to hope for anything.

But he had his powers back, and -

Oh. Oh god there were people in this hall. People with flashlights and...wow, what the hell was that sword? What even - who could use that? In any life?

Also they were both ridiculously handsome and manly and it looked like they were going to beat on a gang of demon cats. Possibly the loved ones of the cat he'd given the death slap earlier. He should be comforted by the victory implied with that sword, but his only impressions were all kinds of queasiness. Possibly because he was still on the ceiling and all they had to do was look up.

Peter scuttled as he had never scuttled before. He thought he heard the musical squelch of a catsplosion beneath him. As he dipped into the Main Hall, he decided he didn't want to think about it.

[To here.]

Edited 2011-10-26 20:05 (UTC)

One moment Renji was at his side and the next he was several yard away, his presence reappearing deeper down the hall. Daemon summoned another ball of witchlight, helping to illuminate the fight as two of the large cats kept prowling towards him. One crouched, rotting body readying for a leap, but Daemon's attention was on the other, which had broken into a run, covering the distance between them with long strides.

Daemon reacted on instinct, stepping into the side, a Black shield snapping into place that had the cat bouncing off it, yowling in pain and surprise when it rammed into an invisible wall. A flick of Daemon's fingers had invisible claws raking across the feline's throat, sending a spray of blood and fur against the wall as he ripped out its throat and left it gurgling its last breath as he turned to face the second one.

This one he didn't bother giving the chance to attack. Lifting his hand, he curled his fingers into a fist, reaching out with Craft to mimic the action. Lips curled into a vicious smile as Daemon squeezed.

There was an explosion of blood, fur, bones and organs as the cat simply splattered, never having even a chance to leap. Something that Daemon was pretty sure had once been a bit of brains bounced off the shield near his shoulder but left not a mark on him, despite the fact that the walls, floor, and a good portion of the ceiling had just been stained red in a spray of blood that still hung heavy in the air, like a mist. All that remained of the cat was a lump of unrecognizable muscle and organs in a sopping pile on the floor.

Daemon eyed it with bored disinterest before adding another inch of air between his feet and the floor. There was no need for him to get messy with this.

Renji slipped easily around the second cat as it sprang; the cat seemed so slow, it was suspended in the air. He turned, snapping his sword around. Zabimaru's links stretched out again, wrapping around the animal. Renji pulled the sword back with an effortless flick.

All that hit the ground were pieces of flesh.

Renji pulled Zabimaru back to his katana form and gave the blade a practiced flick to clear it of any blood before sheathing it again.

He sauntered to meet Daemon at the middle of the mess. A spray of blood decorated his right cheek. "Two," he said, then inspected the scattered remains Daemon had left in his wake. "Messy, but stylish."

"Tied? Pity," Daemon smirked, giving Renji a sly look. "We'll have to do something about that. Can't have your ego getting any bigger than it already is, after all. You missed a piece, by the way."

It was impossible to tell whether Daemon took a step closer or floated, but whichever it was, he was in front of Renji an instant later, personal space completely disregarded as he lifted a hand and brushed his thumb against Renji's cheek, wiping off the smear of blood. There was something darkly sensual in the move, and dangerous, golden eyes gleaming in the flickering glow of witchfire as the Sadist lingered there for a moment before stepping back once more.

Handkerchief called in from his belongings - and Mother Night was it nice to have that ability back - Daemon wiped off his hand and vanished the piece of material again before turning on his heel and tucking his hands back in his pockets once more and gliding back towards the stairs.

"Coming?" he called nonchalantly over his shoulder to the redhead.

He smirked. "My ego isn't going to feel fed until we find something more interesting to fight."

Renji held his ground as Daemon invaded his personal space, though it was a nearer thing than he liked. He stood stock still and stone faced until the man had moved away. Then he scrubbed at his now clean cheek with his hand, not really aware of the motion.

He'd been on the receiving end of a look like that before, and it hadn't gone well for him. It stirred up memories he didn't care to remember. Because this was Daemon and they were on the same side, and he liked the man.

Still, he stayed at Daemon's side down the hall.

"You know," he said, tone light and conversational, which was a warning all in itself, "you're kind of freaking me out. Next time give me the fucking hanky and I'll deal with it myself like a big boy."

[From here]

As Hakkai ventured out into the wider hallway, he could hear more of the skittering behind him. He turned his flashlight towards the source of the noise, and caught a glimpse of not one, but two of the huge rats, this time. Rather than retreating back into the the darkness, though, they circled around the flashlight's beam, running through the gloom with unnatural speed toward him.

As he paused, startled, one leaped at his leg, it's sharp claws digging in to his calf. Apparently the animals were unusual in more than just size. A kick dislodged the animal, sending it flying towards the wall, where it hit with a rather sickening crunch.

There was another one still in the dark, though, so he ignored the sting in his leg, and played the flashlight around, one-handed, while he gathered a small ball of qi in his other hand. There - a flash of movement, and he flicked the energy at it. A squeal and the sudden cessation of movement told him it had gone true.

Now that the threat was gone, he could examine his attackers. He left the one he'd just killed alone - the energy blast meant it would probably be, ah, less than whole, and went to have a look at the one he'd flung at the wall. It was almost a foot long, and bulky for it's size. He hadn't noticed it on the one in the previous hallway, but it's claws and teeth were longer than they should be.

He frowned slightly, and stood, nudging the other body over to one side of the hallway. He was going to have to be careful - Firo had been right. There were monsters here at night. A little more cautious now, he headed further down the hall, to the next corridor.

[To here]

Edited 2011-10-25 07:50 (UTC)

Daemon's smile was still a hint feral as he flashed the Shinigami at his side an all-too-knowing look. Then again, when this side of his temper came out to play and he didn't make someone uneasy, there was something terribly wrong with him. Still, for what it was worth, he made an effort not make Renji uncomfortable. The man had been through enough in this place.

"I'll try to remember that next time," he commented, warm laughter in his voice as he headed to the stairwell that led upstairs.

[Going to here.]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1185201.html?view=80859313#t80859313)]

The quite clear and obvious signs of blood and battle in the next corridor didn't do much to ease Tolten's fears about those claw sounds. He could smell the metallic yet organic tang of blood as soon as he opened the door, and he deliberately looked straight ahead as he felt his boots step in something slick and sticky.

There had been something horrible that happened here. At least the blood didn't smell human...though it was hard to tell, really.

"Oh gods...." he breathed. It smelled like the sewers. He didn't know what was going on, really, but he smelled blood and magic and his hand tightened on his length of pipe. Still he was certain he could hear noises behind them. "Locke, be careful. I...I don't know what we're going to find tonight...."

[From here.]

This had to be the definition of from the frying pan into the fire. While it seemed that the scorpion he'd been trying to get away from hadn't followed him (wonder of wonders), the scene that Harvey came upon as he moved down the hall seriously looked like it was out of a horror film.

It was like what he'd seen in the hall earlier, except quadrupled. The bodies of what looked like they might have been cats were torn apart into pieces and the smell of their putrid blood was able to reach even him, despite his dulled senses. It just figured that he had to meet up with Jones in a disaster zone, but...

What really stood out was that there seemed to be a lot more monsters showing up much earlier in the night and much closer to the rooms than usual. More than that, all of these monsters (other than the scorpion) were dead. How could they have been killed so quickly? When fights broke out here, they were usually long and bloody, and the blood was usually more from the patient side. So what was this sudden change? Did it have anything to do with the Code Red that had been instated?

Well, all he could do was speculate for now. Harvey found a clean part of the hall to stand in, making sure to hang close enough to the door that he would see Jones come through it. As he'd guessed, he'd made it here first. The guy had better show.

[For Indy.]

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1186704.html?thread=80872080#t80872080)]

The first thing he noticed was the blood all over the floor, followed by what looked like some kind of shredded quadrupeds (cats?), obviously the source of most of that blood. The cats from the Sun Room? What was left of the corpses looked much too large. Indy was a dog person himself, but the mess was unsettling nonetheless: it was one of the worst scenes he'd ever come across here, and it was right next to the patient blocks. He'd always thought this hallway was relatively safe. Obviously it wasn't anymore.

The smell was awful. Who had killed them, anyway--patients? What weapons did the patients have that would have done that to these animals? He stepped over what was left of an oversized paw, with long, razor-sharp claws.

Jesus, Indy thought, they must have opened the cages.

When he looked up from the floor, he picked out Dent, who'd found the spot that would get his shoes the least dirty. Indy hurried over--not as fast as he would've before the arena or as steadily, but he was up and around. The pain was bearable, if he gritted his teeth some. "You all right?" he asked, and then, "Let's move." Since he wasn't planning on turning back, the best thing they could do would be to head where they were going as fast as possible, and hope they made it there before the lab rats got out in force.

"Yeah...there's something here." Locke's senses went on alert and any good feelings he'd had quickly vanished when they entered the next hallway. He followed Tolten's example of trying not to look too hard at what they were walking on, keeping his eyes ahead of them and his ears trained on any little sound that came up.

"Clearly nothing good...if something comes up, though, I've got you covered." Locke sure as hell wasn't going to let some sort of creature get in their way or hurt his friend, besides, whatever they had here couldn't be any worse than what he'd already faced back home.

"Just have to stay alert...if we're lucky, we'll miss whatever might've come through here already.."

"Yes..."

Tolten wet his lips, eyes flicking nervously about him despite his determination to keep them straight. Whatever had happened here had been a slaughter. He felt as though he were walking through that battlefield, the one in the amphitheater. Gore and viscera and the dying had been all around him, some even by his own hand in desperate self defense, and the smell of it....

He closed his eyes and wished he had a handkerchief to cover his nose and mouth with. He wanted to take a steadying breath of air but he didn't dare ingest a lungful of the fetid foulness. He couldn't express his thanks enough to have Locke with him, to not have to wander these halls alone anymore. And to face this horror with. He doubted he could do it without a companion, or even a harsher one....

"Locke..." he said, suddenly. He stopped and cocked his head to the side, listening. There was that noise again. Scrambling on tile, like a dog trying to get its footing. And some sort of...harsh noise. Like a radio when it wasn't tuned properly. "I think there's something coming up behind us."

Trying to run would be stupid. The halls were slick with blood and they didn't know quite where they were running to. Locke had said he had them covered, and Tolten had his pipe already held and poised as he would a sword. At least they could prepare to meet whatever stalked them head on.

[from here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1184626.html)]

It wasn't long before he reached the main hall, though without orders from the Arts and Crafts club, he wasn't all the sure what he was doing. He'd told that psycho from a few nights back that he'd cure him, if the guy was even still around. Who knew? The guy seemed pretty well capable of keeping himself alive, but between people just disappearing and others getting themselves killed, it was hard to say.

After a few hurried steps, he stopped in his tracks. The static was gone. Things were clear. The voices he heard were only the ones he tuned in to and focused on. And his Psychs? He gave a hesitant flash of his hand, a snap of his fingers and flames danced on his palm. His psychokinetic powers were back. And he wasn't crazy or deranged or being controlled. Had someone managed to destroy whatever it was that kept blocking them all out?

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189014.html?thread=80876694#t80876694).]

As Zack entered the next hallway at a swift jog, he ended up having to skid to a halt as he realized that this area resembled the hall right outside of his room. In other words, it was covered in blood and chunks of flesh and all other sorts of unpleasant things. Once again, Zack had done enough monster hunting that he could look over all of this without flinching, but...

Coming across something like this twice seemed to imply something. He'd just fried that scorpion, right? If other monsters had been showing up and there had been patients with their powers back in place to fight them, then it definitely made sense that the result would be something like this.

So Aguilar had decided to pull out all the stops. Was that because he knew that they were going to be full-powered again? Was that what had started this whole Code Red thing in the first place? Well, the general could toss everything he had in his arsenal at them, but Zack was pretty sure that they could just toss it right back.

The weird pink barrier thing might prevent them from doing too much damage, but Zack wasn't going to let any of this slow him down. Nodding to himself, he crossed the bloody scene and moved toward the main hall.

[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189937.html?thread=80878129#t80878129)]

Locke was doing his best not to gag on the smell, letting his other sense take priority and push past the discomfort, but it was hard. The sounds, as unpleasant as they were themselves, helped his attempts.

"I hear it.." Turning, he searched the hall with his eyes, bringing the flashlight up a bit more in an effort to see what was approaching them. "I'll bet you anything it's not friendly, either"

With the possibility of a threat came a rush of energy and what felt like electricity in his veins. Even if he didn't have an actual weapon to brandish, he felt ready for whatever was coming for them.

"Maybe a little warning is all it needs..." Feeling the electricity crackle in his hands, Locke extended his hand and watched, more than a little pleased, as the yellow lightening arched from his hand to the ceiling further down the hall. Hopefully, whatever was down there would be scared off...and if not, at least they'd be able to get a proper look at it.

[To here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189937.html?thread=80878897#t80878897).]

"You're a mage!"

Despite the horror surrounding them and the unknown threat approaching, Tolten couldn't hide his sheer delight at realizing he had accomplished his very first goal set in this place. Find a mage.

Everything was fitting into place now. He had a weapon. He had a mage at his side. And what was coming upon them was most likely a monster. This was all familiar and - in a strange way - comforting.

The young king watched the lightning spring forth and leap down the hall, illuminating it. The walls and floor shined slick and sickly for a moment and then...then he saw it.

A small, deformed looking creature, all head and teeth and giant yellow eyes full of evil. Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods. It skittered away from the light with surprising speed, and Tolten only saw a flash, but it was enough. It was as bad as the things in the sewer. All of his fears were true.

Whatever it was, it clung to the shadows as it came, the sound of its claws on the floor letting them know it was coming fast along the right side of the hall. Tolten leapt to stand beside Locke, his pipe before him and his eyes scanning the place the sounds came from.

"Can you do that again?" It wasn't very big. If Locke hit it directly....

Locke didn't have time to correct his friend-although he supposed, on some level, Tolten wasn't wrong-it just wasn't what he considered himself. Instead, he fixed his eyes on the creature, trying to follow where it could be by sound even as darkness settled again. It wasn't anything he could recognize, so he could assume it wasn't native of his home world, but he hadn't gotten a clear view, either; it could be anything.

"Yeah, I can do it again, in fact, I can do better." Now that he had an idea of where it was, he could risk a little more power to ensure his spell hit. Summoning the electricity again, he extended both of his hands and watched as several bolts leapt forward towards the approaching monster. As long as one of them hit, that should be enough to do a significant amount of damage.

Although he didn't regret protecting himself or Tolten, he couldn't help but hope that the thing wasn't sentient or, at least, died quickly. He never had liked killing monsters that were like regular animals.

[From here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1189014.html?thread=80862358#t80862358).]

There was more activity in this hallway than the previous one - way more. And not all of it was human, nor was it alive. More animal-like corpses in here, if the heavy smell of blood wasn't enough to give them away. Despite being so used to the sight and smell of death from his job, Byrne found the stench to be overwhelming. What the hell? The night had barely started, and yet he was already running across more monsters than he had seen personally in the whole week he'd been here. Which may or may not be saying much, but--but still!

Any other thoughts he had at the moment were interrupted when the sound of clicking nails rushed past his feet, prompting the prosecutor to almost literally jump three feet in the air out of surprise.

What. Was. THAT.

Despite the surprise, he didn't stop, merely glanced around his feet trying to spot whatever it was that was running nearby. Too dark to see, but he could hear it alright. Damnit, running around and making all this noise was a bad idea after all. Was it following him? Did it matter? Screw pacing himself, he was going to sprint like a freaking maniac!

[Running like hell to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1186704.html?thread=80893584#t80893584).]

Edited 2011-10-26 14:26 (UTC)

He'd been looking for something out of the ordinary. It seemed he had found it.

Judging from the noise levels, the night was still young, but it already seemed as if a small battle had been fought in this hall. Blood and viscera covered the better part of the floor, and Javert grimaced as his boots slid on something wet and sticky. One of the mutilated corpses was just barely recognizable as a cat.

Impossible to tell what had gone on here. It was possible there was something large loose in the institute--something worse than the usual fare. But that was unlikely; there would have been other signs. More besides a few dead animals.

Javert frowned, but quickened his steps. He'd get to the bottom of it after he found Mlle. Skye.

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 5

Night 59: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject