damned_institute | Nightshift 30: M1-10 Hallway

Lucivar whistled at the sword, grasping the hilt. He took the sheet and pressed it against the blade, judging it's sharpness. "Not an Eyrien war blade but it will do," Lucivar said, clearly impressed. "Especially if it came from this place. And to think those orderlies gave me funny looks when I reached for my fork. Imagine if I had this in my hand."

"I'd rather not imagine it, thanks," Daemon replied dryly. "Things get messy when you get sharp, pointy objects in your hand."

Renji's pulse seemed even and measured, and Daemon reached out to shake the Shinigami's shoulder, seeing if he could wake him. With his back turned, he never saw River creep for the door as she dashed from beneath the desk.

"Renji?" he called, quietly, trying to rouse the redhead.

Sound started filtering back in to the temporary blankness, as did sensation. Someone was screwing with his weapon; in his mental confusion, he didn't quite understand why someone would be dumb enough to try to take a zanpakuto. But it didn't really matter. Either way, he didn't like it.

His eyes flew open; one hand shot out to grab Lucivar's wrist; with the other, he took a swing at the obvious target; Daemon.

It took a second for Lucivar to swing the blade around to press against Renji's neck. He growled, instinct taking over the moment he felt the hand on his wrist and saw his brother attacked. It was a testament to his self-control that he didn't cut off Renji's head. "Release me," he snarled, glaring down at the red head.

Daemon was semi-prepared for the abrupt waking, however, and managed to block the blow before it connected. His other hand was already moving to Lucivar's shoulder, moving his brother back.

"Enough, Lucivar, let him go. Let his weapon go. You'd react the same if abruptly awakened." His voice was quiet, but there was an edge beneath the words, his golden gaze sharp as it flicked from the redhead and his brother.

"Let go of my zan--" he paused for a moment, seemingly unbothered by the fact that his own sword was at his throat; he was far too angry to even consider being worried. He had to mentally start over, though, because things were rearranging themselves in his mind. "Let go of my sword, asshole," he said. He'd been through a lot of shit to get the thing made; he wasn't about to just let Daemon's brother take it. He might as well get his damn head cut off if he were that weak.

Besides, he was pretty sure he could manage a flashstep and do something before he blacked out again. That made the sword at his throat much less worrying.

Lucivar glared at Renji and then at his brother, meeting his gaze before he pulled the sword away from Renji's throat and placed it on the ground. "Don't strike him again in front of me, boyo," Lucivar snapped at Renji. "I don't care how weak you are, I will put you in your place."

"I'm quite capable of putting him there myself at this point, if need be, you realize," Daemon replied wryly, even if he couldn't. Lucivar didn't need to know that, not just yet.

An intent golden gaze turned back to Renji. "How are you feeling? Are you alright?"

"Put your dick back in your pants," Renji snarled at Lucivar. He didn't care if he was flat on his back, he wasn't going to take a childish threat like that silently. Old habits died hard. "Save the show for some ladies that'll give a fuck."

He managed to not glare or even snarl at Daemon, though he was tempted. "I'm fine," he said. He was pretty sure this entirely situation couldn't get any more stupid.

And speaking of that, he didn't really want to be in such an inferior position any more. He started to sit up, though cautiously since he was still feeling a bit... odd.

Edited 2008-03-04 02:37 (UTC)

"Rather hard to deny the fact you were after what's in my brother's pants if you're commenting about what's in mine," Lucivar snorted, though he wrapped the sword back up in the sheets Renji had it in originally before laying it on the floor away from Renji's hand. He couldn't care less if he was feeling all right. What he needed was a good kick in the head to stop his mouth from running. Lucivar was silently volunteering for the privilege.

"Lucivar," Daemon chided cautiously, shooting his brother a glance over his shoulder, before giving the same one to Renji. "You too. We're supposed to be all adults here. Act like it."

Speaking of which...

Daemon turned, his gaze going to the now-abandoned desk, looking surprised. "Where's River?"

Renji shot Lucivar a nasty look, but bit his tongue. Ignoring the man had worked the first time. Maybe it would work again. Though apparently the guy was an even bigger jackass when not under the influence of drugs.

He did give Daemon a rather toothy grin, though. "Dunno. Can't really grow up if you died as a kid."

So far sitting had worked alright. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and leaned over to grab the sword. He made a displeased noise as he inspected the careless way Lucivar had wrapped it back up. He undid the sheets and wrapped it up again, this time to his satisfaction.

"Wasn't my turn to watch her," he said, sounding peeved again. He loved the kid, he really did, but she'd certainly kicked this mess into being. Still, he stopped for a moment, bowing his head to get at least a sense of the threads, tracing the direction she'd gone. "She's fine," he said. "Might want to leave her alone. Sure seems to be in a mood." The effort made his hand start pounding again, and he reached up an slightly unsteady hand to pinch off the inevitable nosebleed.

Lucivar stood up and looked under the table, frowning when he noticed she was gone. "She must have slipped out the door," Lucivar said, looking at the opened door that lead into the hallway. "She can take care of herself, right? She seemed as if she was walking in the Twisted Kingdom so... I suppose it's not strange that she's wandered off."

Still, he worried that she would run into trouble on her own. Even women who could protect themselves still were in danger of being hurt.

"Honestly, Renji," Daemon sighed in exasperation, grabbing his napkin from his food tray and handing it to the redhead. "No wonder you're swooning on me. Stop casting things when you've already been weakened. And yes," he added, glancing at Renji. "River should be fine. I think she's capable of singlehandedly protecting all of us, let alone herself."

Although he was rather worried about this 'mood' Renji said she was in. That was never a good thing when it came to unpredictable females.

He shrugged and muttered something noncommittal. He didn't like being on his face all the time, but sometimes stuff just had to be done. Then there was nothing to be done but to just do it. "Swooning my ass. This isn't some trashy novel," he muttered a little louder.

"Yeah," he said, in agreement with Daemon over River's ability to take care of herself. "Only problem she's ever had was Ichimaru. And that wasn't anything anyone could've fought right against."

He took a couple of deep breaths and stood. His head hurt, but he was mostly steady, though he still had the napkin to his nose. "I need to get to taichou. I'm already late."

"Are you sure you're well enough to go anywhere?" Lucivar asked, raising an eyebrow. Renji's nose was bleeding and he looked like hell. How was he still thinking about going out there when he could barely sit next to Daemon without falling over?

Daemon knew it was pointless to argue with the redhead when he set his mind to something.

"Just be careful, would you?" he cautioned, offering the shinigami a hand to help him up. "I'm serious. Take it easy on your body for once. You're not all god here, you've a human shell to maintain and you can't keep using up all your energy in small doses. I can only patch you up so many times, you know," he added wryly, but his gaze as it locked on Renji's face was sincere and intent.

Renji actually did let Daemon help him up, which was more of an admission of weakness than he cared to think about. He had to keep reminding himself what River had told him. And she was right.

...except for the whole guy sex thing. He had no idea where that was coming from, and it was simply disturbing for all sorts of reasons.

"Got a lot to do tonight, and I don't want to keep taichou waiting," he said. He glanced at Lucivar for a moment, giving him a grin mostly hidden by the napkin. "But thanks for the concern."

His expression became disgruntled once more at Daemon's comment. Not necessarily at the man - he was right, damn him anyway - but because of the situation. "Yeah, I know," he said. "Rub it in, why don't you." He finally let go of his nose and sniffed experimentally. It hadn't been much of a nosebleed, so it had stopped quickly. "If anyone gets shredded, I'll let taichou take care of it, promise. He's better at that kind of shit anyway." Mostly because nearly anyone was better at kidou than Renji. Scratch that... everyone was.

Besides, if anyone was going to end up shredded, it'd probably be him. His job was to play meat shield, and he enjoyed it most of the time. He gave Daemon a crooked smile. "Don't worry so much. It's me. Stuff's been trying to kill me for centuries and it hasn't done it yet."

He headed for the door, though he was taking his time now. He'd give it a couple more minutes before he hit the ground running. In the doorway, he paused. "And be careful, both of you." He looked at Daemon. "You know what night it is."

Lucivar didn't understand Renji's words. Why the extra warning? Didn't they already know that it was dangerous at night?

"What did he mean by that?" Lucivar asked Daemon once Renji had left the room. "I thought all evenings were dangerous."

Daemon mentally cursed Renji for adding that last bit, turning a chagrined gaze on his brother.

"There's an additional threat each nightshift," he finally answered reluctantly. "One we didn't mention before. On alternate nights, patients are taken from their rooms. On one night, they're taken up to the second floor to be experimented on. Often, groups head up there to rescue them and bring them back. On the other nights..."

He paused, gaze flicking away, still feeling the guilt acutely. "Patients are taken and brainwashed, then sent to keep order among their fellow patients, incapacitating them by whatever means possible and returning them to their rooms so they cause no more trouble for that night. Their powers are returned for that period of time only. When they wake up in the morning, they retain all memory of their actions the night before. For the period of a night, they are puppets to this place's whims."

"Puppets," Lucivar growled, clenching his fists so hard his knuckles popped. The thought of being someone's puppet once more made him want to spit nails. He never wanted that again. He'd rather die first.

"So it can happen to anyone?" Lucivar asked, looking at Daemon intently.

"A few are chosen every other night," Daemon answered vaguely. "No one's noticed a pattern, as far as I know. They often lurk in the larger more popular rooms of the Institute."

Rage was bubbling inside of Lucivar once more. "I thought you said there would be monsters?" he snapped, kicking the desk in an attempt to rid himself of the anger that was dangerously putting him on edge. "I've been looking forward to killing things and so far all I've had was a stubborn red head with some sort of obsession over you. At least he had a decent sword."

"There'll be monsters aplenty," Daemon snorted, shaking his head. "Come on then. Although we should temporarily equip ourselves with something for the time being." He didn't want to mention that his magic wasn't working either, just yet. "Think you can manage breaking off the legs of the desk or the chair?"

Nightshift 30: M1-10 Hallway

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