damned_institute | Nightshift 25: Courtyard

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Nightshift 25: Courtyard

[From Here]

It was almost a relief to find his bare feet landing on dirt again, and Cloud stopped as he allowed the door to swing shut at his back. He found a gentle sigh leaving his lips as he felt the coolness of night press down on him, so natural that he could not help but take a moment to enjoy himself. This was familiar, even in its foreignness.

He slowly moved over until he was walking across the grass, his gaze moving around the courtyard with a sudden renewed sense of determination. He took a little more time than he had in the previous locations to just explore the new surroundings, finding the trees and benches something of a novelty from compared to what he normally saw.

Sighting the pond, he approached and stared out over the silent waters. It reminded him of Aeris, but he told himself instantly that she had forgiving him for his past sins. It still reflexively brought a pain to his chest, even if his expression failed to alter with the feeling. The pond felt like both a blessing and a curse to look over.

“I never said thank you for what you did for me,” he murmured softly. “I have forgiven myself too... you would be proud of me for it, I am certain.”

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It wouldn't be as easy to go undetected, as there seemed to only be two others out fighting in the courtyard. Still, they were occupied enough with each other, and it was Envy's job to keep watch after all. He unwrapped one of the knives that he'd strapped to his wrist with elastic.

"They look like they have enough going on with each other already. Besides. This is what you recruited me for. If they care that we're scoping out the pond, I can let them know it's none of their business." He smirked, a more genuine smile than he'd displayed in a long time. This was his element, after all.

"Alright." Lyta shrugged. She'd just have to trust Envy. "I'll just let you do your thing, then. If we need to pull out, let me know."

She'd let him go first.

"I'll try and be quick." She'd give him that, at least. Yeah, she'd hooked up with him so he could protect her, but she didn't want him dropping dead or losing a limb on the job.

"I think I can handle it. You can hear me if I declare something urgent, I assume." If there was one benefit to having a telepath for an ally, it was ease of secretive communication.

It was easy enough to slip smoothly along the side of the building in a way that obscured their view from the others. They were able to make it close enough to the pond at the corner. If the other occupants of the yard paid attention, they might notice the splash. Otherwise, he would just stand guard in the shadows and hold on to Lyta's unmentionables.

"Well then, here we go." Lyta quickly shucked off the prison uniform and handed it to Envy. She took a deep breath out of habit and dived quickly into the pond. Again, she was struck with cold and dark and the moment of panic before her gills fluttered open. But they did, straining the thick air and allowing some oxygen to get to her lungs.

Kicking, she headed down into the depths of the foul water.

_{[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/156663.html?thread=10245111#t10245111)]}

Damn, and the woman was already in the water.

As Gilgamesh appeared to step out of thin air, only inches away from Envy's body, and stepping in towards him, he gave Envy a smile. Then again, not even the woman could get out of range, no matter how deep or far she swam.

"Oh ho?" came the curious noise. "Think you can handle things, can you?"

Shit, where did he come from? People appearing literally out of nowhere was not something even Envy was used to. Wrath had had a tendency to slip through walls suddenly, but that was always accompanied with the noise and flash of transmutation, and even still, Envy didn't care for being surprised like that. He tensed and turned, but held himself steady, scoping out his adversary.

"If I have to," Envy said shrugging, putting on his smug face, "Though I must admit, I'm really more of a pacifist. I'd hate to hurt someone I don't even know, you know?" He smiled and tilted his head, the rest of him tensed and ready to spring at provocation.

There was no distress from Envy above, and so Lyta continued fighting her way through the murky water, unawares. It felt as though it were growing heavier, thicker. She was having difficulty breathing, even with her gills, as she went deeper. How the hell deep was this thing, anyway?

He'd see them all screaming, bleeding, and squirming on the ground before the night was out. Having one already pinned like a butterfly with the steady blade of a weapon just wasn't fun enough; there was no sport in either of these yapping brats, because they certainly weren't Servants. They were worse, even, then the magi that controlled them.

But with no Holy Grail Wars left, who else was left to fight, but the ones who had some semblance of superhuman power? That was what made the woman stand out. Maybe she could do something interesting. And Envy was standing between him and the lip of the pond.

Having already stepped in so close already, it was impossible to avoid Gilgamesh's strike, as he went to snatch Envy by the throat. Flexing his arm, Gilgamesh made to hoist Envy off his feet, and throw him to the side.

"Out of my way!"

Fuck!

Gilgamesh had Envy's throat quickly, just as Envy was only set up halfway to reacting. Dammit, he shouldn't have been so cocky. The man was ready to throw him, but Envy wasn't going to be tossed aside so easily. His left hand gripped the arm that held him, his right hand still gripping the glass knife.

He made a hearty slash and held on like hell.

Now Lyta became aware there was something wrong. Not only with the water, but with her companion on the ground. Twisting and kicking her legs, Lyta turned and swam for the surface, coughing brackish water as she surfaced.

Apparently, they hadn't gone unnoticed after all. Pulling out a syringe, Lyta tried to remain just below the surface, waiting to strike if it appeared Envy needed the aide.

The flash of the knife was expeditious and Gilgamesh watched on with something like amusement as the moonlight caught first the flicker of the glass shard being drawn, then the edge of the makeshift blade as it came up. The slash was aimed for his throat, and perhaps it would have been more effective had Gilgamesh not been imbued with the reflexes of a true Servant. As it was, he tipped his head back at the strike, exposing his throat, but pulling back just enough to let the glass sail by.

There was still a slight sting in the area of his Adam's apple. Che. How weak.

Gilgamesh sneered in response, which was more like a baring of teeth. "Do not cling to me, mongrel," he quietly, calmly. He didn't want to deal with this one; he wanted to catch the woman first. When he finally swung his arm, the force would be enough to dislodge far greater men. He didn't watch to see where the green-haired man landed - he turned at the sound of soft coughing and splashing.

Gilgamesh stepped closer to the pond, stepping up onto the gravel; the shallow wound at his neck tickled, so he flicked the back of his hand across it, spotting the rocks with drops of blood. The woman had come back up? He smirked. That suited him, then. Water battles were too much of a nuisance.

Envy was jarred from the landing, having just been thrown by someone posessing the same strength he'd once had, before showing up in the institute. That put a lot of new variables in the siuation, but he wasn't giving up so easily. Especially not as Lyta was now becoming a target.

Broken knives were no good, and especially not for long distance. (How far had he been thrown?!) He couldn't get close, but still...

He reached for the nearest rock, the size of his own fist, stood up dizzily for a second, and threw it intently at the back of Gilgamesh's head.

Shit.

Lyta kicked backwards and scrambled up out of the pond on the far side, syringe gripped in her hand. She was soaking wet, her white underthings clinging to her and leaving nothing to the imagination, and it her eyes hadn't adjusted yet. And she was being menaced by some... creepy man.

It was like the set up to a bad porno vid.

"You get the hell away from us!" Lyta yelled, gathering her mental powers and trying to shoot a blast of pain directly into her attacker's neural cluster.

A rock being thrown at the back of his head was just about the most pathetic attack ever made on him, and what appeared to be no more than a young man brought his hand behind his head to catch it. And crush it in the same movement.

Envy, however annoying, was not his main concern.

"'Us?'" Gilgamesh echoed back at Lyta, and laughed. It carried across the water, ripe with wicked humour. "It looks like it's just you and me right now." What a sight she made, huddled on the ground in sodden under garments. No real warrior would have tried to avoid him so blatantly, only to find themselves caught unawares now. That was the thought running through his head when he felt the woman's mental ministrations. The golden Servant put his head to the side, a palm clapped over one ear as though he had an earache. He made a face after a moment. "What are you up to, woman? That's not sorcery." Shaking his head to rid himself of the strange sensation, he straightened, putting one hand on his hip. Not sorcery at all. "So you can do something besides cower. Then let me tell you - your tricks don't affect me."

The sword he had originally thrown at Kadaj - now plunged into the ground some distance away - appeared in his free hand, and he pointed it at Lyta, returning to his original topic of conversation. "You shouldn't be so eager to fight alongside another." The point of the sword changed direction, and Gilgamesh instead gestured at Kadaj with it, who was struggling once more, trying to free himself. "You already left one person to die. What makes you think you should be spared, woman?"

Envy was too caught in the adrenaline of the fight to be as afraid as he ought have been considering his circumstances. No, now he was just mad as hell and not about to be made to look weak. Logic crept in on the barest corners of his mind and told him he had to stay alive; he had other more important people to kill than an overpowered asshole with a superiority complex whose name he didn't even know.

Materializing a sword, that was just bad news. To all intents and purposes, this guy was untouchable. Dammit, dammit, dammit! He would have killed to have Fox's blade.

He was nearest to one of the benches, and Lyta seemed to be attempting something with her mind, while the asshole was busy making threatening talk. Waiting to think of more practical attacks was useless; Envy grasped the bench and stomped throught the wooden planks as hard as he could. As his old self, he would have had no trouble just throwing the whole bench, but now wasn't the time to reminisce about 'would haves'; now was the time to channel all the muted strength he had left in him and pull the iron leg he had a grip on free from where it was nailed in. It took a great deal of strain, but he pleasantly suprised himself by loosening the metal bar from the elements-weakened wood. Sure it was oddly shaped and decoratively curly, but it was a tangible blunt object. He gritted his teeth and sprinted over the long distance he'd been thrown.

The blond's disappearance definitely wasn't what Kadaj had been expecting, but before he could even recover from the surprise and take advantage of the fact that he was now free, Gilgamesh was back again. How had he--?

Before he could even complete that thought, the sword was driven mercilessly into his shoulder, forcing the first half of a pained scream from his throat. He managed to bite down the rest, though, giving his attacker a fierce glare while he quickly raised his right arm to try and stop the blade before it could go anywhere. If his left had been responsive at all, he might have tried stabbing the bastard while he was busy blabbing, but as things were, he could hardly lift it for all the pain he was in.

Naturally, Gilgamesh just had to push the sword in even further after that, leaving Kadaj gasping for breath as the blond disappeared once more. He was incapable of doing much else for awhile longer, but once he had regained some of his sense, he slowly began to reach for the hilt. There was no way he was going to stick around for that bastard's amusement. He had to get out of there, and the only way he was going to do that would be if he got rid of this thing.

Bracing himself, he mentally counted to three and pulled.

He regretted this decision almost instantly. Yes, he was more prepared for it, but somehow it hurt even more coming out of his shoulder than when it had gone in. It was only through sheer force of will that Kadaj managed to avoid making anything more than a choking sound as the blade slid from his shoulder, but a wave of heat and nausea soon overcame him, halting his progress and leaving him gasping for air again as he fought to remain conscious. The fact that he was already lying down on the cool ground helped somewhat, but it was going to be awhile before he tried that again.

[[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/156364.html) for the 4th time.]]

Celes entered the courtyard, taking a breath of fresher air than what was inside. The smells, the feeling of something crushed under her heels, not so lovely.

The former General looked behind her, was that strange man still following her? If he was, all the more power to him, she didn't have time. Out in the courtyard, a man appeared to be struggling for -- something. A sword lay nearby. Not too far off from her hiding spot at the corner of the building, a blonde-haired man fought two women (she assumed a woman, because only a fool would think to throw rocks - and women were often fools).

She crept quietly towards the man on the ground, hoping he would not expire before she got to him.

Lyta was beginning to get scared. Legitimately scared. Even without access to her Vorlon powers, she'd been able to inflict pain on Shadows for the love of Christ. She may be stuck at her P-6 levels, but that was nothing to sneeze at.

And now she didn't have anything left. She'd put all her strength and energy into that one attack. Her knees felt weak, they trembled, threatening to buckle completely. Shit, shit, shit!

She could only hold herself upright, now allowing her opponent to see how weakened she truly was, and hope to hell that Envy could do something.

The sound of smashing wood alerted him to the bench being destroyed, and when he looked away from the cowering woman, the same man he had thrown away was charging from behind, a piece of the bench's support clutched in his hand. Gilgamesh observed this with something like impish amusement. Where had he seen this before? It had been an equally dark night; Saber and her Master had been holding hands. And then... Gilgamesh had sent him to the ground, bleeding heavily.

This time, Gilgamesh only tightened his grip on the sword he held - it was too short, too stubby, like a spatha, to be of any real use to him, who favoured longer blades - bringing it up to block whatever strike Envy intended to lay. Sidestepping, the Servant brought his heavy boot up with the intent to kick the man towards the pond - and to the woman on the other side.

If he allowed them to be brought together, what could they do, aside from run?

Fast. Envy vaulted himself, not nearly as high as he wished he could, to swing, tactfully directing it to be defensive as well in case his blow was caught and met with a sword. He had aimed for the back of the head and felt his bar connect with something before feeling instead of a sword, the impact of a boot. He'd anticipated that possibility as well, though only enough to brace himself and kick back against the force enough to absorb some shock and push himself back with the momentum. He was kicked backwards quite a ways, sent tumbling several times, right beside Lyta. That they were nearer together, it was harder to way whether it was better. But-!

He'd taken note of the other man who had been previously fighting Gilgamesh, injured, probably dying- just took a sword out of himself. It wasn't the man that interested Envy- but the weapon, bloody and useless in the hands of an injured man. There was a new figure crawling out towards the wounded one, and he realized as his defensive nature kicked in, what he wanted to do.

He pushed himself up, under the guise of being unstable, touching Lyta for support. Through their skin, he thought at her very precisely:

This is an act; I'm fine. I'm going to distract him. You. Get that fucking sword before someone else does!

Aside from the fact that there was obviously a battle still going on among the others, Kadaj was having a hard time keeping track of his surroundings. Blood was quickly soaking through the bandages beneath his shirt and through the uniform itself, staining it in a way that made it look as if every vessel in that stupid smiley-face had simultaneously burst. Moving the sword had definitely been a bad idea; he hadn't been bleeding nearly this badly before he'd tried yanking it out.

All the same, he'd rather die on his feet than on his back (once had been enough), and he wasn't going to accomplish that unless he pulled the sword the rest of the way out. He almost didn't want to, not when it hurt so much, but if he could handle dying like he had before, this should be no problem... right?

Much more slowly, he began to drag the sword out again, eyes squeezed shut as if that could somehow stop the pain. If the blade had been shorter and narrower, it wouldn't be giving him this much trouble, but no, that bastard just had to use something bigger.

Kadaj didn't notice the woman creeping towards him, but even if he had, he would have ignored her anyway. He had far more pressing matters to attend to.

Celes had come closer, turning off her light and creeping swiftly towards the man on the ground, long legs carrying the easy, militaristic stride until she was next to him.

The smell of blood was strong, at least he hadn't bled out - Celes wasn't sure what kind of place this was, but it certainly wasn't normal - though, if he kept struggling like that, he would.

"Excuse me, let me help you with that." Celes put her hand around the grip of the blade and looked down at him, questioningly.

Lyta barely heard the projected thought from Envy. Her mental attack had weakened her considerably, but she got enough of it. Enough to understand what he wanted her to do. Trusting him, and gathering up the last vestiges of her strength, Lyta broke into a run, heading for the injured man and the pretty blond woman who already had her hands on the blade. God, her legs were burning already and her head pounded and this was almost as bad as having a Shadow screaming in her head. And someone else had their hands on the sword!

Maybe if Lyta was lucky, she could charm the weapon away.

Yeah, right.

"Planning to use my own weapon against me. Hm." Gilgamesh clucked his tongue, a hand on one hip. He didn't try to stop Lyta from running, even though he could have if he wanted, standing across the pond as he was. He did not doubt his speed or strength; he was too assured in his abilities to be scared over how the woman had touched his mind, of a Servant no less! In the other hand, he held the short sword, loose and unbothered.

Without shifting out of his relaxed stance, mana began to glow and crackle around him, shifting from gold to red, highlighting the inhuman cast of his eyes. Once he spoke the name of his Noble Phantasm, it would activate and be at the ready for his whims. As an Archer class, the Gate was his favourite way of humiliating his opponents. Only he - as the rightful King of Heroes - could gain access to the vault of Uruk, and to all the weapons it held.

Gilgamesh addressed Envy, his voice rising, loud and imperious, his chin lifting high so he could look down on Envy. "Now, if you plan on getting in my way, you'd best do so with everything you have! Come at me, mongrel!"

Rage was what made Envy powerful. No... it wasn't quite the case. Rage was what shook him out of his complacency and compelled him to employ the strength he always posessed but rarely even needed to use. Emotional warfare had always been his foremost art, and he had always addressed rivals calmly with the knowledge of how he could hurt them, body and spirit- all too wonderfully often had he skillfully, (even tenderly) snapped a person's neck while wearing the face of a loved one. Outside of the cold-blooded sadism, lay a hot-blooded monster, unlike his counterpart, prone to mistakes and unwitting manipulations. Few roused this side of him, and when they did, it was an unfortunate case for both parties involved- the certain victim cast from potential mercy, and Envy himself shaken of dignity.

The seething anger that came with Envy's situation- his current hopeless position both here and in general, powerless form, all feuds built up tenfold with the frustration of this damned hospital, and now the fucking nerve of this overly powerful prick insulting him- it didn't do the same for Envy quite as it would have had he been fully powered, but it did set his mind and body in a similar state. His muscles all tensed, his logic consumed by killing instinct, the bare untapped hint of what remained of his former prowess (For, after all, hadn't Lyta kept some telepathy, Greed a small sheild, and weren't the alchemists still off on their own transmuting shit?) surging forth just enough to re-align his nerves and muscles for an extra push of agility and power; he didn't feel the capacity to ponder the hopelessness of his situation now, or worry for himself, of whether he would die here before killing his father.

He simply gripped the metal rod he'd salvaged and with a heavy stomp of a first step, rushed forward again. Whatever Gilgamesh was, Envy wasn't going to be his victim, at least not without giving him a surprise or two first.

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