Harvey Dent / Two-Face (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dualistic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2012-10-03 11:40 am
dualistic) wrote in damned_institute2012-10-03 11:40 am
Entry tags:
- anise,
- claude,
- edgar,
- gabriel,
- guy,
- lloyd,
- locke,
- luke fon fabre,
- orihime,
- scar (tlk),
- sechs,
- the scarecrow,
- two-face,
- zero
Night 66: West Wing, North Hall 1-A
[From here.]
Harvey stepped out of the block and then took the usual right down the hall, pondering over the coming challenge as he went. While he, Sangamon, and Scott had successfully passed that trial last night, it hadn't led to anything. Had they made a misstep somewhere? Or was there more that they had to do? They were going to have to try and get answers out of that damn skeleton again.
Speaking of which, the toll would be going to Sangamon tonight. Harvey wondered what he'd end up choosing. He figured it was between touch and voice, but it wasn't really his problem.
On one hand, Harvey was getting sick of going down into that dank cavern every night. On the other, it was good to always know what he was doing when the doors unlocked. He just hoped that all of this effort actually led somewhere.
[To here.]
Harvey stepped out of the block and then took the usual right down the hall, pondering over the coming challenge as he went. While he, Sangamon, and Scott had successfully passed that trial last night, it hadn't led to anything. Had they made a misstep somewhere? Or was there more that they had to do? They were going to have to try and get answers out of that damn skeleton again.
Speaking of which, the toll would be going to Sangamon tonight. Harvey wondered what he'd end up choosing. He figured it was between touch and voice, but it wasn't really his problem.
On one hand, Harvey was getting sick of going down into that dank cavern every night. On the other, it was good to always know what he was doing when the doors unlocked. He just hoped that all of this effort actually led somewhere.
[To here.]
no subject
Unfortunately, they were running out of time; that fact was made even clearer by what— or who, rather— they met in the next hallway.
Keeping his pace slower than he'd have liked so his sickly comrade could keep up and he didn't aggravate his own injuries, Edgar crossed into the northern portion of the hallway later than he would have liked. It had its advantages- there were less people around, passers-by no longer lingering in the halls at night. Each man had a mission, and theirs was clear: find Locke and keep him from harming himself or anyone else, and in the same vein, keep them from harming him. Whether they'd be performing impromptu surgery was yet to be discovered, and an option Edgar hoped they wouldn't have to take.
They hadn't time to worry about it. Edgar put a hand out to stop Tolten behind him, listening to the sound of paws padding across the floor, their sound softer than the slippers patients were issued, gait a far cry from that of a human. Edgar readied his shovel and turned on his flashlight, sweeping the hall before them, hoping they weren't too late.
no subject
The best they could hope for, realistically, was containment.
But he couldn't allow himself to give in to those thoughts. There was always hope. There was always a way, always. The young king had learned that lesson well. Even in the darkest times, there was a light to be found. He tightened his grip on his sword and nodded to Edgar, letting the other man know he was preparing himself.
He wondered if he could use his voice to knock Locke out. It worked sometimes...
no subject
It carefully crept closer till it could see the pool of light cast by the humans; there, it stopped, only it's flickering whiskers darting into the beam.
The cat hissed and growled, ears flattening and tail swishing in agitation. It shifted and tensed,Preparing to pounce should they not get the hint: this was it's territory. Get out or die.
no subject
No matter what the reason, Edgar felt his stomach shift uncomfortably, his stitches sending a dull ache through him as he lowered his shovel, wielding it like a weapon. He took a step forward, prepared to retaliate should Locke strike. They had to drive him back into the patient halls, to the first room they could find that was unlocked and unoccupied. It was risky, given there might still be other patients down there, but it was their best shot. Above all, they couldn't let him get away.
no subject
He kept pace with Edgar, covering the other side of the hall.
Gods I wish I had magic at my disposal...
Real magic. He realized now that even the small abilities he was possessed of were useless at the moment. His voice was too weak and his throat to raw to put them into practice.
no subject
One seemed weaker than the other, more vulnerable, but the other was injured. The cat paced, never turning it's back on it's enemies. A sudden shift in stance and the cat tore forward, fangs and claws out and ready to rip apart the uninjured one.
no subject
Though he took a swing with his shovel at the cat, he was trying to deter it more than actually injure. He used the movement as an opportunity to step behind the beast as well- he backed down the corridor a few steps to block the path to the other end, hoping any offense Tolten offered might drive it back into the side passage. They had to get it toward the patient halls, toward a room they could use to trap him. More importantly was keeping him from going to the other end of the hall and out the door to the recreational field, where their fight was more likely to draw the attention of other monsters and trapping him would be nearly impossible.
no subject
The young king's arm came out, his sword held out to the side, to push Locke back with everything he had. He felt a sting in his arm and cried out, his empty hand balling into a fist to knock against the feral wildcat's head. Oh gods it hurt! It hurt and he was weakened and ill and already tears were burning in the corners of his eyes.
But he saw what Edgar was trying to do and put all his strength into shoving the now-monstrous Locke to the side hall as he struggled to shove it off.
Oh please, all the gods and my great ancestor, grant me the strength to dislodge him...
no subject
Whiskers whipping about as though there were a breeze in the hall, the cat gathered Its power. Red eyes flashed, the only warning before a red beam of energy shot from them and at its opponent.
It would get to the other intruder once this one was dead; the man was already injured, he couldn't hurt the cat.
no subject
He called to Tolten to warn him to move, his own feet skidding across the smooth floor as he broke into a quick dash. His stitches pulled painfully against his skin as he swung his shovel from the side, aiming to land the flat head of the tool against the bulk of the coeurl's body. He could apologize to Locke for injuries later; he'd be in far more trouble in every conceivable way if he let one of the few allies they had in the institute perish. They'd be even shorter-handed than before, and neither Locke nor Edgar would never forget himself.
Unfortunately, Edgar's reaction came a second too late, the coeurl's eyes firing a beam of energy just as he got within striking distance.
no subject
The young king felt an indescribable line of pain along his leg, as though someone had drawn a hot iron over his skin. His sword came up automatically, blade flailing as his vision blurred. He felt like he was on the plains, the plains full of those monsters and not enough allies and he'd nearly died there so many times...
This wasn't really any different. His chest was too tight. He was so tired. And now he wondered if he'd be able to get up, walk, do anything more than lash out desperately with his sword.
no subject
Clearly, it had been wrong about the injured one.
The cat glanced to it's former prey, deciding it was in bad enough shape -certainly worse than the other intruder had been- to refocus it's attacks. Red eyes turned to the one with the weapon and it growled and hissed. If the human wanted a fight, it could have one.
Again, the cat gathered energy, whiskers whipping in a non-existent breeze, as it prepared to use the energy beam again; it didn't want to risk getting too close and being hit again.
no subject
The stakes were much higher now as well, given both his and Tolten's conditions from their efforts the night before. Still, he refused to back down- not until they'd gotten Locke into a room and were working on that cure. Options slipped away with their good health, and they were running out of time. There was always deadly force as a last resort, but that was something Edgar was hoping to avoid until it looked like it was either the coeurl or them. If an ultimatum appeared, he already knew his choice.
Gripping his shovel tightly, his gaze moved to Tolten for only a moment. He gave his companion a nod, trying to tell him that this was his chance to attack and hopefully drive the creature into the side hallway.
no subject
Hoping to catch the creature - oh gods, he hated to think that way! - by surprise, Tolten staggered up behind him while he was focused on Edgar and lashed out to catch him on the flank with the flat of his sword.
no subject
The cat turned it's attention back on it's pray, ignoring the weak one, and launched itself, planning to pounce and rip its target to shreds.
As soon as this stronger one was out of the way, the other intruder would be easy.
no subject
Or so they thought they did, rather. In the moment he'd taken to survey their surroundings, the coeurl had turned its attention on him once more- it was a mistake to take his eyes off such a dangerous beast, a poor decision Edgar realized only a half a second too late. The creature's pounce hit its mark, paws landing hard against his chest and taking them both to the ground. The pain that shot through him from the impact caused him to let out a sharp cry, one cut off by a gasp as coeurl's teeth bore into his stitches, the threads holding together wounds the same coeurl had caused only the night before.
Far worse some something else he noticed, a sensation emanating through him so strongly that he forgot his mortal peril almost immediately: he could literally feel the feline's magic coursing through him, as though his claws and teeth were imbued blades. It was enough to reignite that fire that nested in his chest, a remnant of his infusion at the hands of the institute coming to life in an instant- it got hotter and hotter, becoming an uncontrollable blaze in only seconds. As it scorched him on the inside, it fought its way outside his body as well, manifesting in his hands as a lively set of flames.
He struggled to swallow it down, the stress on his already wounded body making it impossible. While his threshold for pain was fairly high, there was no way to prepare himself for an attack from a beast with similar abilities to his own. Simply being near Terra had stoked the fire in his chest, presumably due to her nature as a half-Esper; the attack from another magical beast had made it all too clear he still couldn't control his infusion-granted magic.
And unfortunately, he realized he might never have the chance to gain such control as fire exploded all around them, lighting every inch of hall as the corridor became home to an inferno.
no subject
All Tolten could do was fling up his arms to cover his face when flames filled the corridor, trying to protect himself in the confusion. He wished he had his armor, or anything more substantial than the flimsy sleep clothes he was wearing...
And also he prayed that the fire drove Locke back without doing too much damage to him. None of this was his fault, it was those bastards who taunted them over the intercom! Locke shouldn't have to pay for the evil they did, the evil they heaped upon dozens of innocents!
Oh gods above and holy ancestor, the Uhran prayed, let us all come through this. Please.
no subject
It leapt away, yowling, and tried to run as if it could escape the pain, but it barely took a few steps before collapsing. The fire melted away leaving a heavily burnt and smoking body. All was still...and then, as though flaking away, the skin and what fur was left pulled away, bones snapped once more and reformed to that of a more human nature. Parts of the man laying in the hall were still heavily burned, if not as badly as the cat, but one certain similarity their lifeless state.
no subject
He'd been injured plenty of times, but burns were horrific in their own right; with no healing magic or potions to deal with them, Edgar was in a world of pain at that moment. He made it worse as he pushed himself to check on Locke's condition, using his hands to ease himself off the ground- he was back down in an instant with a stifled scream, his hands shaking, muscles twitching as he could hardly manage the agony he was in. His palms were badly burned, flesh peeling away from just past his wrists and along his forearms. The fabric of his shirt stuck to him in places, threads melding with scorched strips of skin on his chest. The coeurl had taken the majority of the flame himself, preventing it from reaching Edgar; that only made the situation more grim in Edgar's mind, as he was sure Locke couldn't have survived an attack of that severity.
He gasped for air, struggling to breathe and stay conscious as he looked around from his vantage on the floor, trying to see the aftermath.