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damned_institute2008-08-21 10:30 pm
qui-gonjinn.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2008-08-21 10:30 pm
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Nightshift 34 - Walk-In Refrigerator
[From here]
Stepping inside, Qui-Gon could feel the change in temperature. His breaths came in soft white puffs of air. For now he was fine, but it wouldn't be too wise to stay in a place like this longer than they had to. He cast his flashlight around, the beam alighting on racks of food and large chunks of frozen meat hanging on metal hooks. Qui-Gon walked inside, moving slowly and taking his time, scanning the room, listening and looking intently. He could still feel that faint wisp of darkness, like an elusive scent, emanating from somewhere in the room.
Striding past the hanging rows of meat, he surveyed the room, wondering what he'd sensed. All of Landels was cast in darkness, especially at night. But something about this room had drawn him in somehow.
Stepping inside, Qui-Gon could feel the change in temperature. His breaths came in soft white puffs of air. For now he was fine, but it wouldn't be too wise to stay in a place like this longer than they had to. He cast his flashlight around, the beam alighting on racks of food and large chunks of frozen meat hanging on metal hooks. Qui-Gon walked inside, moving slowly and taking his time, scanning the room, listening and looking intently. He could still feel that faint wisp of darkness, like an elusive scent, emanating from somewhere in the room.
Striding past the hanging rows of meat, he surveyed the room, wondering what he'd sensed. All of Landels was cast in darkness, especially at night. But something about this room had drawn him in somehow.
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Goosebumps prickled on his bare shoulders, and the part of his neck that wasn't covered by the leather shirt. The monk shivered.The temperature reminded him of the morgue, nights ago, except tbere was hanging racks of meat, and other frozen foods in here.
Still, a butcher's playground, just like the morgue and its neighboring room.
Except this time he couldn't exactly pull the robes up to cover his bared torso. Not with the bandages in the way, and not with only one arm.
At least the cold was definitely driving off that lethargy from blood loss.
The monk began to slowly walk around the room, studying the floors. it didn't take too long to find something out of the ordinary: a discolored tile on the ground. He prodded at it. The tile wobbled, loosely set in the floor.
The monk wedged his fingers in, and slowly pulled the tile up, revealing a set of stairs.
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Was this a food closet? Somewhere they stored meat, obviously. But how did they keep it so cold? She would have wondered more if this place hadn't shown itself to already have all sorts of odd magical qualities. Callisto would just have to mark this down as another one.
It was obviously just cold enough to store food and not deter patients, and there had to be a way out because whoever she was following was no longer in the room.
She paused to examine some cold vegetables. Then she grabbed a carrot, biting off an end before setting the rest of it back where it came from. Didn't taste half bad chilled.
Her flashlight finally found the removed tile, and with a pleased "Hmm?" she moved to get a better look.
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Thursday stepped into the refrigerator, shivering slightly as she did. Thankfully, there hadn't seemed to be anything in the kitchen; hopefully, there wouldn't be anything here.
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The fridge looked clear, so he proceeded towards the trap door alongside his team.
He'd given up trying to convince Brook this was a stealth mission, and truthfully, he didn't care as long as the pirate didn't start shouting, "We're here, over here." He didn't think Brook was that stupid.
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Shouting was something Brook did about as much of as breathing and even more when he heard things like what Thursday was telling him. At least Archer knew better than to freak him out, but the woman still needed some pointers.
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"Brook," Archer said, making sure he had his roommate's attention before continuing. "Shut up."
He really didn't put much heart or effort into his words, knowing there was no point in telling Brook that. The pirate seemed incapable of being quiet for extended periods of time. Finding the trap door, he easily lifted the tile, revealing the passage. "I'll go first."
And down the rabbit hole they went.
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The first thing Claude noticed was how chilly it was. Using his free hand, he turned his jacket's collar to the cold air, but he couldn't fight the goosebumps that spread across his bare arms. That wasn't important, though. He'd been in colder areas before, so he wouldn't let himself get too distracted by it. Besides, they weren't going to be hanging around long if the entrance to the basement was really here.
After glancing around for any trouble, he was glad to see they were the only ones around. The last thing he wanted was to have to fight a battle in here, much less having to run away from all the progress they'd made tonight. "Looks like the coast's clear," he said. "But..." He turned to the others, looking vaguely sheepish. "How do you get to the basement from here?" He hoped it wasn't a stupid question.
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If Claude was cold, it was even harder on Guy, who only had a sleeveless shirt to his name. Still, having traveled to places like Keterburg in his normal outfit, he wasn't too bothered by it. Besides, the ballroom was a perfect temperature, and they would be getting down there in no time.
"It's over here," he explained, not seeming to find the question stupid at all as he moved to the displaced tile. He knelt down next to it, setting the cleaver down for a moment so he could pry the tile up with his fingers. He shined his flashlight on it to give Claude a proper look.