damned_institute | Nightshift 34: Kitchen (First Floor)

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Nightshift 34: Kitchen (First Floor)

[from here]

Sanzo stepped into the kitchen, flashlight held close to his hip. It was going to be awkward with one arm working, and that meant keeping it close to the Smith & Wesson tucked close to him. He let the flashlight beam roam over the kitchen, taking note of the island in the middle, the ovens and stove tops...

It looked clear. So far. He took a few more steps, each one slow and measured.

He was feeling... well, not better but at least not any worse. Light-headed at times, but that was only if he made any sudden moves...

He glanced back at Qui-Gon. The man looked winded: whatever he'd done to get that door unlocked had also done a number on him.

"You could try following your own advice," Sanzo said.

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Qui-Gon intended to...at least by taking it slower in order to bide his time. If there was another locked door, then Sanzo would be on his own: he didn't think he could open another one for quite some time, not with the exhaustion making itself known. He followed a bit more slowly after Sanzo. "So you said you think the basement entrance is around here?" he changed the subject.

And where was Obi-Wan? Qui-Gon knew walking like this with Sanzo was begging for an ambush. Unfortunately, he had plenty of experiences with those in his years as a Jedi. It was different, however, when the Force wasn't your ally and your Padawan was unaccounted for. Former Padawan, he reminded himself. No doubt Obi-Wan wouldn't approve of his venture tonight, citing it as being impulsive, if not reckless. But Sanzo would no doubt be attacked and possibly killed if he kept this course, especially if he was one against many.

An exhausted Jedi Master might not even the odds, but Qui-Gon was willing to give it a try. His fingers tightened on the knife's hilt, feeling foreign and heavy in his hands, with none of the elegance of a lightsaber.

Changing the subject. Figured.

Sanzo tucked the flashlight under his arm, rooted around for some ammo, and awkwardly drew out the Smith & Wesson.

"Yes. I just don't know where yet." Sanzo answered. He flipped the chamber open on the gun, and carefully began to slide in one bullet, then another, replacing the two he'd used on that patient. His fingers were still unsteady, but they weren't trembling nearly as badly before.

He jerked his head to the rest of the kitchen. "Spread out, search for any signs.

Sanzo flipped the chamber closed.

Qui-Gon went about the confines of the kitchen, searching intently. His body still ached from using the Force tonight, but it would recover if he focused himself and ran through some Jedi breathing exercises. While being able to connect to the Force more readily would certainly speed that up, not all Jedi techniques were reliant on the Force. Qui-Gon divided his attention between focusing on slowing his heart-rate and searching the kitchen, shining his beam over the counters, the shelves, the hanging cooking utensils and opening the cabinets. So far, nothing.

That brought him to a giant metal door. Laying his hand on it, he could feel a slight coolness rising off from its surface. Some kind of freezer, he'd supposed. But there, too, was also a faint undercurrent of darkness, like a misty breath of cold air, seeming to seep through the cracks.

"This could be something," Qui-Gon said quietly, glancing over at Sanzo. The young monk seemed to be doing better, but not as well as he'd hoped.

The monk moved to join him, leaning against the island for support, before slowly crossing that last bit to the door. Qui-Gon was standing in front of a large, metal door.

There was a lock on the door. It looked rusted.

"Stay back."

Sanzo pointed the gun at the lock, and fired. There was a large crack that echoed in the kitchen, as the gun went off, followed by a clang as the lock fell the the ground, chains slithering after it.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/437324.html)]

Callisto had heard a loud noise before entering, but she seemed to have just missed the room's former occupants. She didn't miss the door they'd left ajar, however, and she took a moment to study the broken lock. It hadn't been sliced. Blasted with something? It had to be something precise. That made her curiosity all the stronger.

There were voices not too far ahead. They echoed lightly in the smaller chamber beyond. Nothing else to do but see where this led.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/437324.html?view=35401548#t35401548)]

No one was here, at least no one Itachi could see or otherwise sense. That did not mean no one was here, but as a ninja his senses were well-developed. Itachi edged into the room, still cautious, but also giving an eye to the cabinets and drawers. Surely there would be metal things in there.

Yuuhi was wary as they entered the kitchen. The last time he'd been here, there'd been that strange creature that'd tried to eat both him and Kurogane. They'd escaped, but narrowly. He'd prefer not to repeat the same scenario.

"We just need metal, right?" he asked. There had to be plenty in a kitchen. Silverware, tools, pots and pans, all sorts of things, didn't there? He set to work rummaging in the cabinets and it wasn't long before he pulled out a few pots and started filling them with everything from egg beaters to ladles. He tried to be as quiet as he could, but with all the metal it was hard not to clank a little here and there.

"Yes, unless you find something that could serve as a weapon." Itachi also began to go through the cabinets, still remaining on guard even as he shoved a number of cooking instruments in his bag. He didn't know what they all were; his mother had done the cooking when he'd been a child and even then, there were a lot of things here he was sure she had never used. Of course, after he left, he had either bought his food or killed some animal and roasted it.

The clanking of metal also left Itachi on edge, so he periodically swept his flashlight across the room behind him. Hopefully they would be able to just get this done quickly. Even so, he put a few pieces of silverware in his pocket, just in case. They would certainly work better than the pens from his room.

Yuuhi filled one pot with a variety of metal items and picked up a couple of cookie sheets before he was at his limit. It wasn't too far back to the room, but hopefully he could carry that much without falling on his face. His chest still held a constant ache, but he tried to ignore it.

"Hmmm... these are all really more for cooking," Yuuhi replied. The cookie sheets might make a passable shield, but they seemed really impractical. Though if he recalled right, Syaoran had been able to make a pretty good weapon of a ladle. Of course, the boy had to be pretty drunk to even try it in the first place, but it'd been fun to watch!

"Many of these things could be used for improvised weapons." Blunt objects, like the larger spoons or even the pots and pans. "I notice there are no knives here, though." Itachi had been under the impression that knives were needed for some cooking operations. Perhaps he had been wrong.

There were, at least, some longer, duller knife-like things, as well as some smaller rounded ones. Itachi helped himself, his bag nearly full now. It looked like Fai would have some trouble carrying his own collection of objects, as the other man hadn't thought to bring a bag. "I believe we have about as much as we can carry, now."

"I guess so," Yuuhi said, twirling an egg beater between his fingers. Some of the butter knives might be good for throwing. Better than the pens that so many patients were fond of at least.

He set the pot on top of the cookie sheets and lifted it, heading back toward the door. It wasn't too terribly heavy, but they'd both be making a lot of noise on the way back. Probably not the best idea, but it wasn't really his decision. Besides, there was no way he could climb the fence the other way with this load of stuff.

Itachi didn't bother replying, filling his bag with a few more utensils and then shifting it over his shoulder. The bag itself could make a weapon, if an unwieldy one. He hoped they would not confront anything antagonistic on the way back, because neither of them would be in a very good position to fight with these loads. It was an unfortunate situation and it irritated Itachi, who hated to rely on luck. They might as well try to get back as quickly as possible. With that in mind, he traced his steps back to the cafeteria, still remaining wary of his surroundings.

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/433654.html?thread=35516918#t35516918)]

Thursday could see no signs of anyone, alive or otherwise, as she entered the kitchen. She scanned the ceiling carefully, giving it a thorough sweep with her torch - nothing.

Still, it was far too early to celebrate. Moving slowly into the center of the kitchen, she kept a lookout for any signs of movement. The last thing they needed was a repeat of last night.

Archer kept his sword ready as they entered the kitchen. It appeared to be clear, but you could never really tell, since danger came when you least expected it.

Last night, Archer had been apprehensive about fighting an alien, but now that he had his bow, he felt more reassured. No, it wasn't just his new toy that brought him confidence; it was from an underlying anger towards this Institute for taking so many things from them.

Following behind Thursday, he took out his flashlight, sweeping it across the area, scanning for any enemies. It was more likely that any monsters they may encounter had better senses than them, so there wasn't much point in hiding. Also, the blood from earlier suggested there was danger nearby.

"My, you both are awful quiet..." Brook commented out of nowhere to break the silence of the room. Apparently his burning hide and close encounter with blood not his own had made him forget that this was supposed to be a stealth mission. Not that Brook could ever keep the stealth part of it going anyway. He, like so many others of his crew, had little to no attention span.

Thursday glanced briefly at Brook, one eyebrow raised. "The thing that caused all that blood could very well be in here," she said, assuming they were far enough away from the door at this point that he wouldn't attempt to make a getaway. "And, as Archer said, I believe this is a stealth mission."

A few more quick steps brought them to the door; Thursday examined the lock on it, frowning slightly. The unmistakable scent of gunpowder, while faint, still lingered here.

"Someone has a gun," she said quietly as she pulled the door open. "This lock was shot off. Let's just hope it was someone friendly."

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/437324.html?thread=35542348#t35542348)]

[From here.]

This was where it had happened before, and once again, the kitchen was completely empty. However, this time there didn't appear to be any signs of previous fights, and so Guy was willing to cross his fingers on them getting to that discolored tile without encountering anything.

Peony had insisted that they kept running, and so Guy did just that. He was certain that Claude would be able to keep up, but how about the "old man"? Peony could be a very persistent person, though (even if it was usually in regards to his rappigs or outfits or whatever else), so Guy wasn't too worried.

"Almost there!" he called back. That was mainly for Claude's benefit, though it was also supposed to be encouraging. It was something he imagined Luke might have done, actually.

As Peony jogged forward, trying to keep up with Gailardia, he couldn't help but shoot Claude a deadpan look when he pointed out that they'd been running. Of course they'd been running! What did Claude think Peony thought they'd been doing? The poor boy just didn't know what had happened last night. Being too slow, too cautious, had caught them in a sticky situation that Peony was fine with occurring maybe once or twice a week, and definitely not every day.

"If there's any lesson we need to learn from Landel's, it's that we should run from our problems," Peony informed him in a fatherly, half-joking manner. How the little shorty took it was up to him.

Peony was getting kind of winded, actually, and his shoulder ached terribly, and he knew he'd be pretty happy once they got to the bottom of the stairs in the weird kitchen. Thankfully, it was totally free of monsters thus far, though Peony made sure to shine that light around good and thorough-like before pointing it at the entrance to the fridge.

"Bingo." He felt exalted. They'd be there so soon...!

Claude was glad to know they were almost to the basement. He'd never been there before, so it was hard for him to know how long they'd need to walk -- or run, really.

He didn't say anything at Peony's comment, though he did glance at the Emperor with a raised eyebrow. If it were really so easy to do that, he figured they'd all be out of this place by now. Then again, it was kind of hard to tell whether the older man was being serious or not. Since he was the leader of a country back on Auldrant, he had to have some serious side to him...right?

Riiight.

He blinked once Peony shined his light at the fridge. "We go through there?" he asked. "Really?" Well, Guy and Peony seemed to know what they were doing, and it wasn't like there were many other places to go...

After adjusting his grip on Ashton's sword, he pulled the door open and led the way inside.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/437324.html?thread=35689036#t35689036).))

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Nightshift 34: Kitchen (First Floor)

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