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
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]