ramona v. flowers (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fluctuate) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2011-10-24 01:35 pm
fluctuate) wrote in damned_institute2011-10-24 01:35 pm
Night 59: F01-F10 Hallway
Whoa, was that supposed to be normal? Alarms were going off, and the next thing she expected was some dudes coming in with heavy artillery to give her a hard time. This was pretty unusual, and it left Ramona on alert. In a way, she half-expected this to be some point in the story when there was a time limit keeping her on a set restriction. If she didn't beat the clock, she'd be screwed—and that seemed like a likely scenario. But though she idly waved her hand over her head curiously, she didn't find anything there; there was no dissipating clock telling her that if she didn't move fast enough to get out of this joint, she was going to blow up. Or that she had to find the box before the time ran out. Or—well, that was enough scenarios!
But whatever it was, she didn't feel terribly at ease about it. Sure, she wasn't freaking out, palms sweaty with uncertainty as she tried to figure out her next step, but she wasn't exactly raving about this course of events. No one mentioned alarms going off and codes. Was there a code purple, she wondered? Or a code pink? Maybe the overly-ridiculously-sweet-like-candy-corn girl—and man, it'd been a long time since she had some of that, damn Toronto and its lack of addictive orange, yellow, and white colored sweets—just meant this. Maybe this was normal!
But hey, she had to grant it something. It definitely set the "night is different than daytime" mood. There was the air of intensity and the feeling that things were bad. Whoever was in charge of this place definitely knew how to mess with people's heads. It felt like she stepped into ... what was actually a little like her Saturday afternoons recently, minus the ridiculous themed parties. Though Ramona really didn't put it past Julie Powers to decide on a pseudo-militaristic-mental-hospital theme. She just didn't think her apartment could take the redecorating.
Either way, she had done enough dawdling thinking about it. Ramona snatched up the flashlight from the place she was told it was held at, and started out. First off, she had to test her strength, and then—oh, she glanced over at her desk. Well, it wasn't long and ... people could read a lot of Freud into her choice of weapons, but it looked heavy enough. Ramona set the flashlight back down on her bed and moved over to the desk. She stood in front of it curiously before she counted to three and then bent down to pick it up. In fact, it moved too easily, and her eyebrows knit together. Ramona lifted it up over her head, put more weight on one arm than the other, and still—it was fine.
Ramona carelessly dropped the desk back down—well, it wasn't like she had any attachment to it—and she found herself surprised it didn't ... receive any damage. But then again, she figured this place wasn't going to bring people there against their will and then furnish them with things from IKEA. That was way too easy to break. It was just too bad she couldn't drag a desk around with her. That would look formidable if it wasn't going to fall apart, but she didn't want to have a hard time getting through doors.
So, Ramona snatched up her flashlight eagerly and set out. If they were limiting her, maybe they just got rid of subspace and that was that. She could handle that.
[to here]
But whatever it was, she didn't feel terribly at ease about it. Sure, she wasn't freaking out, palms sweaty with uncertainty as she tried to figure out her next step, but she wasn't exactly raving about this course of events. No one mentioned alarms going off and codes. Was there a code purple, she wondered? Or a code pink? Maybe the overly-ridiculously-sweet-like-candy-corn girl—and man, it'd been a long time since she had some of that, damn Toronto and its lack of addictive orange, yellow, and white colored sweets—just meant this. Maybe this was normal!
But hey, she had to grant it something. It definitely set the "night is different than daytime" mood. There was the air of intensity and the feeling that things were bad. Whoever was in charge of this place definitely knew how to mess with people's heads. It felt like she stepped into ... what was actually a little like her Saturday afternoons recently, minus the ridiculous themed parties. Though Ramona really didn't put it past Julie Powers to decide on a pseudo-militaristic-mental-hospital theme. She just didn't think her apartment could take the redecorating.
Either way, she had done enough dawdling thinking about it. Ramona snatched up the flashlight from the place she was told it was held at, and started out. First off, she had to test her strength, and then—oh, she glanced over at her desk. Well, it wasn't long and ... people could read a lot of Freud into her choice of weapons, but it looked heavy enough. Ramona set the flashlight back down on her bed and moved over to the desk. She stood in front of it curiously before she counted to three and then bent down to pick it up. In fact, it moved too easily, and her eyebrows knit together. Ramona lifted it up over her head, put more weight on one arm than the other, and still—it was fine.
Ramona carelessly dropped the desk back down—well, it wasn't like she had any attachment to it—and she found herself surprised it didn't ... receive any damage. But then again, she figured this place wasn't going to bring people there against their will and then furnish them with things from IKEA. That was way too easy to break. It was just too bad she couldn't drag a desk around with her. That would look formidable if it wasn't going to fall apart, but she didn't want to have a hard time getting through doors.
So, Ramona snatched up her flashlight eagerly and set out. If they were limiting her, maybe they just got rid of subspace and that was that. She could handle that.
[to here]
no subject
Sesshouseki.
Wakefulness brought with it many questions, the primary one being: why was it still night? Her fractured memories ended with the basement, with her and Albedo standing in front of the fanged sculpture, but blacking out and waking up again in time for lights out didn’t fit within the usual timeline. The intercom should’ve been encouraging her to start the day, not prepare for another nightshift.
Time. She had lost time somewhere along the way.
But she had regained something, too.
The Yomi that dressed and armed herself wasn’t the same Yomi that had gone down to the basement the night before (or was it the night before last? Or the night before that?). It was a simple fact that struck her without warning, just as sudden as the alarms that started to blare throughout the building. She was back… back to being what the sesshouseki had intended her to be. Unlike the emergency broadcast, the shift from weak to strong was a purely internal change. Invisible to anyone but Yomi. But she knew. Oh, she knew.
The noise drowned out the pleased sound that left her lips. Someone had flipped a switch against the Institute’s wishes! And it was looking to mean anarchy.
She had woken up just in time, it seemed.
Yomi had one foot out the door when the rat lurking in the hallway beyond locked onto her presence. It lunged at her, but she had the sesshouseki replica in her possession, and one swing was all it took to halve the creature in midair. The two hunks fell with a spray of innards, and Yomi stepped past them to continue on.
A far cry from her first encounter with the vermin on the night she had arrived.
[to here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1185883.html?thread=80830811#t80830811)]
no subject
The rest of her gear was the usual. Throwing star strapped to her upper left arm, across the bandages, and claw on her right. She'd thought about switching them -- ambidexterity was on of the more useful traits her creators had added and that this place hadn't stolen, but if the arm weakened before her mind, it would be better to have the stunner on the damaged side.
She was already in the hall when a force shield flared up around the walls. Typical. Protect the things, but the people were disposable. Organic matter, easily replaced. It even reproduced itself.
Taura. Had. Had. Enough. Of. That. She snarled, and broke into a run.
[to here]
no subject
Clutching the radio close to herself (and heart beating so quickly it was almost painful), Leanne took a moment to simply breathe, and attempt to make some kind of sense of the alarm. Panicking wouldn't help her here, especially when she didn't even know the real cause. Whatever this was, she could handle it.
All right, Code Red? That bumped things up from not good to really bad. A place like this, with monsters roaming around every night? Something that could make the people in charge declare an emergency was no minor thing.
One thing was more than clear, though. She wasn't going to sit around in her room and wait for morning. Leanne wasted no time in grabbing her flashlight and heading for the door. So all she had that could even pass for weapons were a flashlight and a radio. She could deal.
The soft glow in the hallway gave her pause, but she was soon on the move, just barely managing to avoid stepping on the carnage in the middle of the hallway... and the giant rat it all seemed to be coming from.
Ugh.
[to here]
F6
A strange film of energy began to coat every inch of the room. Her first thought was it was a laser and Tifa fell backward over her bed to get away from it, but it was too fast. It rushed past her with little sensation. Now that she was practically laying in it, the glow wasn't noticeably harmful, but laying on the cold floor all night long wasn't going to accomplish anything. For good or for ill, the patients had been thrown a bone and there was likely never to be another chance to disappear into the chaos.
Getting back on her sturdy legs, the young woman grabbed her Ice materia that was always tucked into her bra and left her flashlight; the strange force field was bright enough to illuminate her way without stumbling.
Her new roommate, Ramona, had left before her. She wished there was something more productive to tell her besides "Be careful", but Tifa, too, was out of her element now. Hopefully those fighting skills of Ramona's came in real handy.
Re: F6
no subject
Dear Diary,
Today, oddly, was normal. I had breakfast, lunch, and dinner. There were no shocking discoveries, no tests of will against bossy doctors and nurses, only some time spent in the Sun Room, and eating meals. It's a little weird, how being here is almost starting to feel 'normal'. I know it's probably exactly what they want us to feel, but it's better than constantly trying to fight what has so easily become our new world. It's better than trying to fight what can't be fought like anything else we've ever dealt with.
Today was the first day I didn't wake up expecting to be back in my own bed, but instead of feeling shocked I actually was kind of glad for it. What does that even mean? Is this place finally getting to me?
Boring, concise, but to the point. Honest. Definite.
Which was exactly why she wasn't going to be writing any of it down. She knew she couldn't let herself grow comfortable here, because none of it had really proven to be worthy of that kind of trust. The only thing she knew she could count on here, besides the people that she'd already trusted before the institute, was that no matter how simple things seemed, how routine and redundant things felt during the day - that all disappeared at night.
A fact that became ridiculously clear when the words 'Code Red' broke her momentary existential crisis, followed by the blaring of alarms.
Well, that was certainly enough to get Elena to finally move off her bed. She had told Stefan she'd wait for him, but whatever. She knew, generally, which direction he'd be coming from, so she would just start heading that same way. No sweat.
With her flashlight in hand, she pulled open her door and stepped out into the hall, wincing a little as the alarms only seemed louder. Yikes. She couldn't tell if anyone else was there with here, even after taking a few steps away from her room, which meant she couldn't ask anyone if they even know what Code Red meant. Did it matter, though? It was bad. Definitely. Bad enough to make her feel slightly panicked and wanting to find Stefan even faster.
no subject
She was standing in the hallway when Stefan turned the corner: a slim dark shape behind the glare of her flashlight, unmistakable to his unhindered sight. In the second it took to arrive at her side, he watched Elena turn the light around her, looking for danger, and by instinct, he dodged around it to finally appear behind her.
There was no reason to hide his true speed in this place, not right now, not with half the patient population apparently capable of supernatural feats. Of course Stefan knew this couldn't last the night, but he was hoping they wouldn't have to be here for that long.
"Elena," he said.
no subject
"I thought we got over that. The sneaking thing." She was smiling though, even as she hugged her flashlight to her chest, trying to pretend her heart wasn't thudding in her chest from the momentary shock.
no subject
"We did when I couldn't do it any more," he admitted. It wasn't that he specifically made a point of sneaking up on her; he just... didn't think about it. Although, he couldn't deny getting a little enjoyment out of her surprise sometimes. "But Elena, look." Before she could say anything, Stefan lifted the knife in his hand and drew it across his bare arm, near the elbow.
Why he thought of this as the best way to illustrate the return of his full vampire strength, Stefan wasn't quite sure, only that the healing of his extensive wounds was the first thing which had let him realize it was back. The sharp pain of the knife slicing into his skin was a nice reminder of why he didn't normally do this kind of thing. Even with his "powers" restored, he was still only as strong as the blood made him.
Said blood welled at the cut for a second before the skin knitted itself together again in front of their eyes. He rubbed his finger over it to wipe it away (a drop in the ocean compared to all the dead animal blood on his clothes right now), and there was no longer any sign of injury at all.
"Whatever device they were using to hold us all back, it's... off. Or broken. I'm not sure which one. But there's monsters everywhere — I think the military's sent them to stop us." Stefan flipped the knife in his hand and held the handle out to Elena, his expression suddenly serious again. "Hold onto this. I'll protect you, but in case we get swarmed before we find Damon..."
no subject
She carefully took the knife from him, though she didn't know where to put it. Not that she was very focused on the knife. That smile sobered as she took in his clothes, and it was hard not to let her wariness show.
"Monsters... Did something attack you?" Strangely enough, or maybe not, she was hoping he'd tell her that he went hunting or something instead. It was better that trying to wrap her mind around him being tracked down by the monsters in this place. Though if he had gone hunting, there's no way a rabbit or something would have left that much blood behind. ..Right?
'Kay, maybe a rabbit living at Landel's would. God. She couldn't figure out if she was happy or nervous, at this point, she felt split down the middle between the two. Either way, she took a deep breath and moved closer to him, letting the knife settle at her side while she reached up with her other hand to brush her fingers along his cheek and really look at him.
"You're okay, right? You didn't... do anything to get your abilities back? Nothing weird happened? You can tell me." It just seemed to good to be true. Even with the monsters targeting them; that wasn't exactly new or different. But the last time she (well, the two of them) encountered a Stefan Salvatore with full vampire abilities, it had been the shadow of his past self. She didn't think for a second this was the same case, but something dark made that possible, so maybe something like that was happening again tonight. She hoped with everything she had that that wasn't the case.
no subject
It felt nice, it felt good, to have the power to protect Elena now. Each thump of her heartbeat rang clear in his ears, but for once it was a comforting sound, the way it had been before they'd come here and he found himself hungry all the time. Stefan cupped her face with both hands, and leaned in to touch his forehead to hers.
"I wouldn't. I promise. Not without telling you." He pulled away in order to look at her face again. "It's everyone, not just me. I think they're sending the monsters to keep us contained until they can get our abilities under their control again." Stefan tensed suddenly and glanced back down the hall, where the pink glow of the walls faded into darkness again. Noises scraped behind the walls, inhuman and chittering. "Something's coming. We should go."
He took her free hand in his, and hurried out of the hall.
[to here]
F10
When her eyes opened, however, she wasn't reclining against a tree with Bedivere at her side, and Shirou was nowhere in sight. The promise of a true and comforting rest was no longer within her reach, and she felt very much the same as she had before that final battle. Whole. Alive.
A Servant.
Saber was on her feet in a flash, standing in the middle of a small, sparse room so quickly that the naked eye probably wouldn't have been able to notice any movement. Her expression remained hard and neutral even as her mind reeled.
"How...?" she allowed a troubled murmur to escape her lips. The sounds outside of the dark room were quick to distract Saber from any measure of distress she might've let herself feel in the moment. Voices could be heard all over, and the sounds of battle were unmistakable. The first obvious thought was that she'd somehow been summoned to another war. The very next was that such a thing could not be possible. There were no signs, no traces that she could feel of a Master. She hadn't been summoned, and yet here she was. A Servant able to act independently.
Saber grimaced as she clenched her fist. Standing alone pondering the how and why of it all would accomplish nothing. Only action would yield results at the moment. She threw open the door, rushing into the dark hallway outside. Excalibur and her armor remained un-summoned but ready at an instant to be called if they were needed. Once outside in the relatively uneventful hall, the Servant paused to glance up and down the length of it.
no subject