damned_institute | Nightshift 28: F11-F20 Hallway

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Nightshift 28: F11-F20 Hallway

[[From here.]]

Hokuto breathed a (hopefully silent) sigh of relief when they turned the corner and didn't see any monsters; being a black belt meant very little here, and she did not like being unarmed during Nightshift. A shovel wasn't much of a weapon, but it was a lot better than nothing.

She wasn't going to say a word about her reservations, but could they really even scale the walls here? Somehow that just seemed way too easy.

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Momo headed straight to the back of the hall and pushed her way into her room. She looked around and it seemed just like her room. Relaxing a little, she looked over at Hokuto.

"Okay, we'll get my stuff and then we'll get yours and if Saber-san hasn't made it to Signum-kun's room by then, we'll gather what we need and meet her along the way back outside," Momo said as she pulled her katana out from under her mattress.

She then went to the closet to grab her coat and paused, her eyes wide, as she stared into the closet, one hand on the coat. She held her katana out to Hokuto without looking at her as she ran her other hand up the utterly familiar black material within the closet.

"What?" Hokuto took the sword obediently, but her attention was on whatever Momo was looking at.

When she saw the black sleeve, so like what Renji had been wearing, she got very, very hopeful. "This is strange..." she commented, trying not to sound too excited. So two people she knew suddenly found their uniforms where they hadn't been before. Two people didn't mean much.

However, personally, she didn't care if she got her old gym uniform back--anything was better than the usual Landels outfit.

Momo didn't really hear Hokuto, but as soon as the weight of the sword shifted and the girl took it, the shinigami placed both hands on the uniform and pulled it out of the closet. The black kimono top and hakima were there, along with the white sash and looped about the hanger neck was her vice captain's badge. She ran her fingers almost reverently over the floral emblem of her division emblazoned upon the badge.

One second, Momo was looking at the shinigami uniform with the greatest respect she'd ever shown anything as far as Hokuto could remember and the next she had hugged the uniform to her chest and hopped in a silent squeal. She turned from the closet and went straight to her bed. She set the uniform down and immediately started stripping.

Hokuto's presence in the room didn't bother her at all,a s she was another girl, but she did have the sense of modesty to turn her back to the girl. The clothing from the day hit the floor and she reached for her uniform, the biggest smile gracing her lips. She was just as excited to get her uniform now as she had back when it was first handed to her after graduation.

Hokuto did politely look away--with her hormones in the state they'd been in recently, she didn't want to have a nosebleed just because she saw her Vice-Captain naked. And she was pretty sure Momo was the type to not wear underwear with that kind of outfit (actually, she'd be kind of surprised if the woman knew what a bra was before coming here).

Just when I thought Landels couldn't get any crazier! To occupy herself, she examined Momo's katana; she didn't know much about swords, but she was impressed.

The fit of the uniform confirmed one hundred percent that it was hers. The feel of the fabric against he skin, the lightness of it... Momo hadn't felt this good since she'd woken up in Landel's. Setting the badge on the bed, the shinigami returned to the closet to find her socks and sandals on the floor and the cloth and tied she used for her hair folded neatly on top of them. Sitting back down on the bed, she pulled the socks and sandals on.

"You look like you've never held a katana before," Momo said lightly as she bent at the waste and then flipped up her hair up, catching it and smoothing the bun out, wrapping the cloth over it and tying it with the leather thong. Double-checking her white sash, she picked up the badge and once again looked at it with reverence.

"No, I have," Hokuto protested; to prove it, she backed up and went through a few kata she'd learned in kendo class. She wouldn't want to try to actually fight for real without practicing first, but she'd handled a sword before.

Never mind how few of them hadn't been made out of bamboo or wood.

When she finished, she studied Momo and had to smile a little. "Very nice." The shinigami really did look awesome (...and very pretty) in her uniform; she seemed to be holding herself a little differently, too. Confidence did made a big difference.

Momo glanced up and saw the clumsy movements of the sword as Hokuto swung it, at least to the shinigami's eyes. It was obvious she at least knew enough to not to cut her own foot off and that was the first step. She smiled at the compliment and fixed the vice captain's badge upon her right upper arm.

"Thank you," she said and bowed.

Momo grabbed her own flashlight, the cloth fixed over it to mute it as usual, and she hung it from her sash. Taking the katana back from Hokuto, she slipped in into the sash as well and nodded.

"Alright. Let's go get your weapon and then to Signum-kun's room."

"Hai~!" Hokuto's energy level was higher than usual; who needed sleep? It would be fine unless she ran into someone who didn't speak Japanese (the nurses were convinced poor Kazuko didn't even know where she was).

She managed not to run, but she could hardly wait to get back to her room. School uniform, gym uniform, she didn't care; she might get real clothes!

It would be a little strange if she found Subaru's onmyouji robes waiting for her, but--she'd see.

[[Skipping off to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/258486.html).]]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/258486.html?view=19177654#t19177654)]

The bats were exactly where she'd left them, along with her flashlight. Good.

Jean hurried out of the room as fast as she'd come in.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/258126.html)]

from [here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/252798.html?thread=19171198#t19346814)]

Claire lead the group into her room where - thankfully - her roommate was nowhere to be seen. Wasting no time, Claire pulled open the drawers on Larxene's side of the room, taking out two extra flashlights she found there in case the others wanted them. Heading towards her own bed to grab the flashlight under her pillow, Claire stopped dead at what she saw.

There on the bed was her cheerleading uniform, neatly folded.

Claire gently lifted the shirt, running her hands over the Wildcats logo and momentarily forgetting the others in the room. They worked so hard to convince her that her life was a nothing more than a lie, and then they did this? This just seemed like some cruel joke.

Clark blinked. Where had Claire gotten the cheerleader outfit? Judging by the way she was touching it, it must've been one from her school, which was kind of creepy thinking about it. Not her school, but the fact that the outfit was here. It made him wonder just what the point of it was - it seemed a lot different from the patient clothes. Clark remained standing near the door, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans as he waited. He had a feeling that maybe he should give Claire some time.

TK watched, more than a little confused. Claire looked like she recognized the clothes that were found neatly folded on her bed, but why would this place give the prisoners personal items? It was probably some attempt at psychological manipulation that he didn't understand. But if they had this, then they must have kept things from other prisoners. His armor and kit would be somewhere here. If he could just find where they were being kept...

When Wesker saw the red uniform he frowned slightly. Claire wasn't going to run around in that, was she? He quickly erased the frown from his face and moved towards her.

"Did you really enjoy cheering?" A lot of it was dull and boring, and Wesker had never shown much interest in sports or cheer-leading, but this was supposed to be his daughter he was dealing with. A certain amount of interest in her life was required, and any insight into her that he could find would be helpful.

Claire turned to Wesker, considering his question. It had started out as just a simple pass time and became so much more. It was a desperate attempt to fit in - to pretend that she did fit in.

"It was...normal." Claire whispered the last word, struggling not to get any more emotional. The last thing she wanted to do was cry, especially in front of everyone like this. Only Wesker could understand, really understand her. He was just like her.

Normal. Clark didn't say anything, but his mouth thinned to a line; yes, he could understand the need to be normal, to want to fit in. He wasn't sure why Claire was so concerned about it though - if anything, she just looked somehow like she belonged in the popular crowd and he just figured it'd be a given she'd be a cheerleader, not the kind of person who got picked on and wanted to hide in the background. He'd already figured out that she was a lot more three dimensional than the typical cheerleader, but it was hard to shake old stereotypes.

TK was as lost as usual when it came to civilians and their ways of thinking. At least he could understand the need to conform to a set standard- That was completely familiar. Normal meant surviving the training. Usually. Did civvies get similar treatment where Claire was from?

TK's train of thought was light-years off the mark, but at least it wasn't lost in hyperspace without a nav computer anymore.

Wesker could tell that Claire was becoming emotional about the subject, and he carefully wrapped her in a hug.

It was only through years of practice at deception that he managed to hug her without seeming awkward. He'd never had to pretend to be affectionate before... well, a certain amount of awkwardness wouldn't be too strange.

Wesker had only met his 'daughter' a few days ago, and had no idea he'd had a child previously. "I bet you were good at it..." But now was really not the time to linger over false sentiments.

"But right now we need to keep going if we're going to get anything done tonight."

Claire felt eternally grateful for Wesker's hug, but nodded when she realized he was right. Grabbing the outfit and the tennis shoes laying at the end of the bed, she placed them in the closet and took out her poker.

"All right," she said, her voice steadier than it was before. "I'm ready."

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Nightshift 28: F11-F20 Hallway

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