damned_institute | Nightshift 30: M11-M20 Hallway

[Specifically M12]

"… Wait, really?" Axel asked, mainly to himself, as he listened to the intercom and the head doctor’s sudden confession. It hadn’t been long since he was escorted back to his room after his dinner, feeling rather content after spending a shift to himself. It was fun and all to chill with a couple of people beforehand, but a guy needed a break every once in a while.

His plans were relatively simple at the time. He was going to run off to Kairi’s room, swing her body over his shoulders and haul her back over to his own. He’d forgotten to write a note down for Roy in the bulletin saying he couldn’t make it, but he was sure the colonel could make the right assumptions.

He had been in the middle of rummaging under his mattress for his chakram when the intercom came to life again, and with that he couldn’t help but stop and look up at the ceiling with a mix of curiosity and disbelief. At this point it almost felt like a tradition for the man behind the radio to pop up every evening, so a change this big earned a bit of attention. Axel’s gaze remained on the ceiling for at least half a minute before he glanced over at his roommate on the other side.

"You know, I almost don’t believe it." But this was technically a battlefield, and one side had to give in one way or another. He had to remind himself that tradition didn’t exactly last forever.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Edgeworth saw through the lie about how the detective was feeling - the man had never been a particularly good liar. This was something he felt it was best to let slide, however; one needed to keep their pride and dignity, after all. "Someone posted several copies of the maps to the bulletin board, with a note saying to take a copy. I've been distributing them since then, and they're accurate, to my knowledge. The second floor isn't complete, but it's better than no map at all."

He finished the drawing of the first floor, setting it to the side and beginning the second floor. "I don't know whose rules he thinks he's playing by, but they aren't any that would be lawful in any jurisdiction. I suspect there's proof buried somewhere in the Institute itself - the doctors' records, if nothing else. And there's enough patient testimony that I don't believe it would be difficult to build a case, bodies or no bodies."

Edgeworth looked up from his drawing, chewing just a bit on the end of the pen he was holding before answering that question. "We were investigating what was happening, yes, but not personally investigating Landel himself. I..." He trailed off, lost in thought for a moment, and when he spoke again, it was in an unusually sad tone. "I can only hope Wright's disappearance wasn't related to that investigation, though there's no way to know for sure."

The prosecutor finished the second map, put his own copies away, and then clicked his flashlight off. Any traces of sadness in his voice were gone when he spoke again, replaced with his usual steely determination. "I'm well aware of that, Detective. However, I'm determined to learn how to defend myself, and won't turn that weapon on a person unless it's a matter of life or death."

He stood up, then pointed to the scar on the back of his neck again. "That scar is from my first proper night here in the Institute. There are doctors experimenting on patients here, which happened to me that night. I don't intend to let any of those monsters near me, you, or anyone else without a fight."

"Hmm..." Gumshoe set the pen behind his ear in an almost involuntary fashion, slipping the notebook into his pocket. "We gotta look into those files. If we could pick up a paper trail, we'd have him behind bars faster than it takes for water to boil!" He smirked, having delivered a decent one-liner there. "No, seriously! With our expertise...! We could definitely build a convincing case. And this time -" he flashed a huge grin - "Mr. Wright would be on our side! We'd be unstoppable!"

He hastily stopped chuckling as Mr. Edgeworth answered.

"Sir, he... Mr. Wright's had his darker days, but he's always managed to climb out the holes he's dug himself into." He offered the prosecutor a weak smile. "Y- You shouldn't worry. We've underestimated him before... He doesn't give up that easily."

Nodding glumly at the other man's final choice, he took a quick look of that mysterious scar that hadn't been explained to him before. It felt something like a white-hot spike piercing his heart when he was then enlightened as to the secret of the mark. He clenched his fists until they were quivering, rendered incapable of finding the right – or respectable – words to describe his indignation and mild disbelief. It seemed the heated expression had frozen on his face.

"That we would be, Detective. That we would be," Edgeworth said, that slight sad tone coming back into his voice. "It is true that Wright doesn't give up easily, though. Considering he put himself in quite a large amount of danger to come find me that first night..." He sighed softly, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. "I owe him the same, whether he's here or not. This isn't something I can run away from."

The prosecutor stepped towards the door, placing one hand on the doorknob. "You understand the position I'm in now, and why I feel the way I do. My mind is made up, and my stance on this matter isn't going to change."

He turned the knob and opened the door, turning around to face Gumshoe. "I should go soon - I'll be next door, in room M18. As I've said before, you're more than welcome to come along."

Edited 2008-02-29 15:10 (UTC)

All that rage swiftly died as Mr. Edgeworth continued in a gloomy voice; the discontent that would remove the detective from his reverie when he saw someone suffering from it. He stood quite motionless, an intense frown spreading while he looked down those few inches at the other man's face.

He couldn't be confident in what he was supposed to say when this happened. He'd learned that listening was the best course of action. It allowed Mr. Edgeworth to organise his thoughts, and Gumshoe hated that his own articulated ideas could wreck such a crucial process. He was powerless in these situations. His presence couldn't possibly reduce the prosecutor's sorrow when it was this profound.

When suddenly he was presented an opportunity to help out, he was keen to snatch it for all it was worth.

"Thank you, sir! I'll gladly accompany you to... the room next door!" He said in a triumphant tone, laughing before he could stop himself. The door, already ajar, was pulled wide open in seconds, and the taller man was beaming, showing his colleague outside. "This'll be a piece of cake!"

[moving down the page, to the M19 thread]

Nightshift 30: M11-M20 Hallway

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Re: M18