James T. Kirk (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doneinthree) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2011-10-24 06:43 pm
doneinthree) wrote in damned_institute2011-10-24 06:43 pm
Entry tags:
- alaric,
- anise,
- brook,
- byrne,
- celty,
- chipp,
- claude,
- damon,
- donna,
- edgar,
- edward cullen,
- england,
- firo,
- gumshoe,
- guy,
- guybrush,
- hakkai,
- kirk,
- kratos,
- lana skye,
- leanne,
- lust,
- mccoy,
- nigredo,
- peter petrelli,
- rapunzel,
- renamon,
- riku,
- rita,
- rose (tvd),
- rose lalonde,
- s.t.,
- sam winchester,
- sechs,
- seishin,
- sora,
- spock,
- stefan,
- taura,
- terra branford,
- the scarecrow,
- tsubaki,
- utena,
- venom,
- zack,
- zero,
- zex
Night 59: Main Hallway, 1-West
[from here]
Kirk ran into the main hallway and found nothing there except more pink light coating everything. His gut feeling said that if something was happening, it should've happened already, but he was a loss to explain what was going on. The system (if he could call it that, vague as it was to describe the whole Landel's torture/experimentation assembly line) had broken down at least once already, on that night when I.R.I.S. had first(?) appeared, and the whole of the building flickered like a malfunctioning hologram. Was that what the glowing cover was for? To prevent... he didn't know. Something. Something bad enough to warrant a Code Red.
(What had killed that creature?)
Waiting around here was already bad enough on normal nights, what with it being an open space with high traffic, but he'd picked it because it was the quickest and most obvious meeting place for all of them. Now with the whole area lit up like the inside of a strip club, Kirk was starting to feel like a lone piece of meat wrapped in a gold ribbon and tossed out for the wolves. He made a face for a second as he considered the unfortunate implication of mixing those similes, then decided that the dumb thoughts which crossed his mind ranked considerably lower in priority than, you know, paying attention to his surroundings and not getting himself killed.
Kirk swung the lead pipe in his hand once, just to focus, and shook his head as pain rippled out from the still-healing gunshot wound on his right arm. Take it easy, Jim, he admonished himself silently. It was still early in the night. Someone would be along shortly. And if not... he was giving his crew one minute. One minute, and then screw it, he was tracking down everyone himself.
[KIRK TO ENTERPRISE]
Kirk ran into the main hallway and found nothing there except more pink light coating everything. His gut feeling said that if something was happening, it should've happened already, but he was a loss to explain what was going on. The system (if he could call it that, vague as it was to describe the whole Landel's torture/experimentation assembly line) had broken down at least once already, on that night when I.R.I.S. had first(?) appeared, and the whole of the building flickered like a malfunctioning hologram. Was that what the glowing cover was for? To prevent... he didn't know. Something. Something bad enough to warrant a Code Red.
(What had killed that creature?)
Waiting around here was already bad enough on normal nights, what with it being an open space with high traffic, but he'd picked it because it was the quickest and most obvious meeting place for all of them. Now with the whole area lit up like the inside of a strip club, Kirk was starting to feel like a lone piece of meat wrapped in a gold ribbon and tossed out for the wolves. He made a face for a second as he considered the unfortunate implication of mixing those similes, then decided that the dumb thoughts which crossed his mind ranked considerably lower in priority than, you know, paying attention to his surroundings and not getting himself killed.
Kirk swung the lead pipe in his hand once, just to focus, and shook his head as pain rippled out from the still-healing gunshot wound on his right arm. Take it easy, Jim, he admonished himself silently. It was still early in the night. Someone would be along shortly. And if not... he was giving his crew one minute. One minute, and then screw it, he was tracking down everyone himself.
[KIRK TO ENTERPRISE]
no subject
It was a cacophony.
Peter supposed he could be grateful for the chaos, because it allowed him to drop down from the roof without anyone being the wiser, but he really wasn't. Anise was over there, riding on some Raggedy Ann nightmare and fending off a crowd of bats. So much baffled disapproval had his brows in pain, they were drawn so close together. Should he help? Or...
Well okay, apparently he wasn't the only one to slap around a four legged friend tonight. Peter watched in minute horror as the giant doll swatted the beasts into submission. Man, PETA was going to be all over their butts.
And speaking of butts, he was pretty sure that was a wee bit of damp he was feeling back there. And along the back of his shirt. Peter glanced over his own shoulder and tugged at the sleeve, and sure enough, he had not gone unscathed from the catsplosion in the hall prior. The pink light from the walls illuminated enough of the bloody splotches to prove that they ran from shoulder to heel. He wasn't soaked, but he did look like he'd been through a harrowing round of paintball.
Goddammit. The last thing he ever wanted was a Patrick Bateman makeover.
Or for his spider sense to buzz again. And buzz with alarming clarity. Peter glanced up and found himself reunited with his best friend in the world, Robert J. Hugespider.
"...Oh. Hey there."
Pincers clicked. Black eyes as big as golf balls fixed seemed to fix upon him, though if there were no pupils to follow. Even the pink glow putting a halo around that fuzzy head did not an angel make.
"You know, this doesn't have to be a running joke. It's a lot funnier if you only try to eat me once."
Robert respectfully disagreed.
Peter vaulted out of the way when it dropped down, easily outsizing him with each leg only scant inches short of his entire height. He was grateful, he decided, that having his powers back somewhat dampened how painful the stitches were making things. He guessed his threshold for pain was back too. He was going to need it.
[Jessica come help a bro out]
no subject
She had arrived late. But late enough to get an idea of what was going on -- chaos. Chaos in the hallway, chaos here now. They weren't getting their powers back without a fight, apparently. Jessica slunk along the ceiling, keeping close to the walls as her gaze scoured the area. Peter, she needed to find him. She needed to know whether he got his powers back too -- whether he had an inkling of an idea of what was going on. There was moment's pause as she hung there again, fingers pressed gently against the surface of the ceiling as she watched people fight off monsters, the pink glow still bathing them.
And then she spotted it.
And him.
There was a giant spider and of course it was going after him, and this certainly didn't surprise anyone, especially not her. But the spider was huge. Hugespider. He of the Massive Spiders and she hoped to god, this wasn't going to be a Harry Potter thing where they just discovered the nest.
Either way, the spider had moved, approaching Peter, and suddenly, there was a blast of webbing in its eyes (all eight of them), the bushy-haired girl flipping down from the ceiling, landing on its back. "You know, I think this is taking the spider motif a little too far!" She didn't think, the quip was a natural response. Each movement was instinctive, drilled into her mind by training. The spider recoiled back, clicking its pincers desperately as it tried to rock her off. She latched her fingers on to where its neck should be with all of her sticking powers, turning her gaze towards Peter.
"Any time would be great now."
Oh man, she was going to regret this later. So much for that alcohol run.
no subject
Peter scrambled back a step as Jessica sprung noiselessly from the pink depths and sat atop the spider, like some severely suicidal rodeo daredevil. He couldn't help grinning. "I broke a cat earlier. Does that help?"
Either way, this ugly mother was a two person job now. He would avenge his flashlight and his dignity. Even if the radio had been inexplicably returned to him. It was still his job to punch it in its stupid face.
Which he did. With relish. The thing jolted and shuddered with the power of the hit, the legs slipping out from underneath it - but Peter was practising more restraint this time. He wasn't going to rip things apart or punch through skin. Not again. Not even with monsters. All it would take was one more blow to bring it down, he reckoned.
Or the human Jigglypuff over there could do the work for him. Peter jumped when the song started, whipping around to find a (typically hot) girl serenading in the middle of the hall, and monsters dropping down for naps for as far as the eye could see.
...Oh. Well that was pretty cool.
"THANK YOU~" Peter shouted out towards her, waving his arm as if bidding farewell to a cruise ship. His attention snapped back to Jessica almost immediately, and held out a hand to help her off the sleeping spider. "Come on - I don't know what's going on, but we have much bigger fish to fry. Whales, even." The smile split his face again, a hint of mischief twisting the corners into an expression more suited for Pans than Parkers. "The bigwigs are supposed to be hiding on the third floor. Ready for a little climbing?"
no subject
And the spider just as suddenly falling to the ground.
It took her a second to realize what just happened, but nonetheless, she was glancing back over to Peter as he reached out to help her down. "Why, thank you, my liege." Hopping down, Jessica paused, taking in his expression and recognizing it immediately. She didn't doubt that an exact copy of the look was on her face now as well. (But that was what happened when genetic templates and clones hung out.)
"Mr. Parker, you know exactly what I want to hear." She was throwing her busy brown locks over her shoulder, that grin returning. "We have a date with the men-in-charge and we don't want to miss it."
no subject
There was one good thing about having clones. They were always willing to hop in on your dumb jokes. Less swats upside the head for Peter and Jessica. (Had anyone done that to her yet?)
But such frivolity could wait. They had a spaceship home to catch. Or a stargate. Peter wasn't particularly picky at this point. He tugged on her hand before letting go, a quick direction: "This way!" and they were off. Speeding like bullets.
Even the petulant whining from his stitches couldn't slow him down this time.
[To here.]