damned_institute | Nightshift 35: West Wing, South Hall 1-B

Looking down at his boots, Armand shuffled his feet. Sometimes he felt as if he were just part of the set-dressing to Citan. Very intelligent people fascinated and intimidated him. He wanted so much for them to like him, to praise him and include him in their brilliance, but he thought he was far from ever getting such an achievement. Armand knew he was the semi-intelligent assistant at best.

"I have been curious about what is outside, but it seems so much to be chasing after what Dr. Landel wants for us. To tell the truth, I think that of the basement too. I don't like being a toy." Even while he spoke, he kept an eye out for their third friend.

"From what I saw, rocks and trees and dirt." Citan chuckled a little. "I don't think we made it very far. But you're quite right. We're just toys, and it's terribly frustrating. And I fear no matter how much we discover, we won't have all the pieces we need." He shook his head and sighed.

"But I suppose we'll just have to see."

"Do you think we we will see? The answers, I mean." He wasn't sure they ever would. "The people seem so randomly chosen, and the deaths make no sense." Though he did have a feeling that nights were more important than days. "You have been here longer. Do you think we should just keeping playing in these games Dr. Landel and the radio people propose?"

Citan pursed his lips. A serious question and for the time being, he responded with equal seriousness.

"At the moment, my young friend, I don't know what else we can do." What other options did they have but to play the games they had been forced into? "We either do as they wish each night and struggle against odds we cannot beat and don't understand, or we remain hiding inside with no hope for escape. We're between the rocks and hard places, I'm afraid. With no choice but to scramble against them and hope we come out on top."

"I find that very depressing." He stuck his hands in his pockets, looking downwards again. "I'm not good at any of this. I'm sorry. You must probably wish you'd found a more capable partner." Armand bit his tongue. He hadn't meant to say that. He wasn't seeking re-assurance or comfort. He simply was searching for a nugget of hope in this mess. And he still thought a smart man like Citan would see it before he did.

"None of us are very capable here," Citan said, honestly. It did look rather bleak, but they weren't dead yet.

"Not you, not our friend Morrison, not myself. But we'll figure something out. I don't intend to live out the rest of my days here, my friend. I have a family to return to." He turned to Armand, offering him a look of grim determination.

"As long as we're alive, we have a chance."

"I do as well," said Armand, but his thoughts went to Morrison who said he'd died. He had his wife and sister, but what did the soldier have beyond his life here. Would he fade away or die if they succeeded in breaking Dr. Landel's power? "As long as you have some idea of what to try, what to do, I will help as best as I can."

"We'll be quite alright," Citan said, his cheerful demeanor returning. May as well discuss what they could do, rather than dwell on what they couldn't. Perhaps that would cheer Armand some.

"I've been meaning to see if I can dissect a handful of the nighttime creatures. It might give us some clues as to what, exactly, this place is capable of doing. Or it may simply be another dead end, but we won't know until we've tried."

"That would mean hunting for and killing a monster, wouldn't it?" Armand asked, his worry now swiftly transferring objects. "I hope it's a very small monster." He found Citan's cheer inspiring, but the things that made the man cheerful perplexed him. Dissecting monsters? Eww.

"A cat or a rat would be sufficient to begin with," Citan agreed. "I went searching for one last night, but the time I wish to encounter some sort of creature, there were none to be found!" He laughed a small bit at that.

"Perhaps I'll find something tonight. It shouldn't be difficult to drag one into a safe room to work. Of course, you needn't help me with that! It's messy work, I'll admit."

Armand weakly echoed Citan's laughter.

"I can help," he said, not sounding very convinced. "I don't mind as long as it's not trying to eat me. You're a very strange man, Dr. Uzuki. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"If you're certain," Citan said, nodding. He was happy for the help, but he certainly didn't want Armand doing anything he'd rather not. And he knew that for those not accustomed to cutting things open and pulling them apart, dissection was remarkably unpleasant.

"Am I?" He smiled. "I believe I may have heard that one or two times before, come to think of it."

Armand shivered, not wanting to admit his reluctance, and paced. He kept rubbing his arms in a nervous gesture as if the motion would warm him up. "If you need help, who else is there? It looks like Morrison may not be making it out tonight."

A reluctant smile returned to his lips. "You are, but I trust you. I'm not surprised that people that knew you better noticed as well."

[OOC: I still haven't heard from Lauren about TK. If she still wants him to join us, we can find a way for him to "accidentally" run into them later, can't we? If we're going actually to find a monster and kill it, they may need to head out very soon.]

"A pity," Citan said, thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose you're right, in that regard." And it was better to have some aide, rather than none.

"I suppose I'm simply a strange man then." He chuckled, as though it were a very funny joke. "But there are much worse things to be!"

[OOC: Come to think of it, has Lauren come back from the Land of No Internet yet? I can't recall seeing an end-hiatus note from her since last week....]

Armand nodded. "I will do my best, if we should manage to defeat one of the creatures."

The smile grew more sure, though Armand didn't venture as far as to laugh, even nervously. "Yes, you're right about that. You usually are about most things."

[OOC: You know, that may be it. She was still around when I first told her we were set for her to join us, but she might have not come out because of going away right away. I didn't realize she'd be gone this long, but I haven't seen her on AIM at all.]

"Well, if we stand around long enough, I imagine one will find us," Citan said, with a hint of humor in his voice. Though it was roughly true, he supposed.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he went on, in an effort to appear humble. "But there are some universe truths. And one of them is simply that there are worse things to be than eccentric. Especially around here."

[OOC: I checked the hiatus tags, and didn't see an off-hiatus post, so I think she's just not around yet.]

"This close to the dormitories?" Armand squeaked. Then he flushed, ashamed at himself. "Have any been this close that you've heard?" he asked, making an effort to speak more slowly and calm his tones back down to normal.

"That is likely also true. I find it hard to think in absolutes anymore." Other than the absolute that anything he set his will to do would go horribly wrong. "I can't believe how much being here has destroyed my faith in almost everything."

[OOC: I must have misread it, because I thought she was only going to be gone a few days. Thanks for looking.]

"They sometimes come this close," Citan confirmed, nodding. "Small ones. And this close it would be a simple matter to return the carcass to a safe room." And get to work.

When Armand mentioned his lack of faith, Citan's eyebrows drew down some. "You shouldn't lose your faith, my young friend. Like hope, faith sustains the soul and mind in even the darkest of hours. And I fear that we haven't reached those even yet." He reached out to lay a hand on the younger man's shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"We can hope then, I suppose." He would rather face a small one than something big and hungry. Armand stuck his hands in his pockets and found the door knob. The little metal ball could but put in the pillowcase and swung around he supposed.

When he felt the hand on his shoulder, his other hand went immediately to try to cover it. Just to touch another person was a kind of hell because of all the memories that surfaced. He didn't think Citan was like Percy in any other way (other than they were both brilliant enough to frighten him), but the eternal optimism struck dangerous chords in Armand's heart, the kinds of chords that brought his shame far too close to the surface. "I lost my faith in God years ago. The rest has just crumbled away."

Armand's wish came partly true. While the monsters that surfaced were small, there wasn't just one of them. The three rats made their way down the hall in a tightly-packed group, mouths dripping with saliva and yellowed claws clattering against the floor as they approached the two patients.

Like all of the creatures that resembled animals and served as monsters here at the institute, the rodents were far larger than they should have been, and their eyes glowed in a way that would probably come across as exaggerated.

But it was all very real - their hunger was very real.

"Have faith in yourself," Citan began to say, before the small clicking of claws on the floor caught his attention. His hand left Armand's shoulder in an instant, and he turned, eyes narrowing behind his small glasses.

"I believe we have company," he said, fighting the impulse to grin. Now this was more like it. Myriad eyes, glowing in the darkness. The thrill of the fight, the attack.

Citan dropped into a fighting stance, setting his flashlight on the ground to keep his hands free.

Perhaps he should have handed it off to Armand, but his mind was already three steps ahead, intent on the creatures coming for them.

While he didn't hear the noises before Citan reacted to them, he was only a few seconds behind. The light was on the floor, safe for now he hoped. Armand backed up a step or two, just far enough that he had a moment to put the knob into the case to use if he needed it. Otherwise he had only his feet and fists.

He wasn't skilled at all in this kind of fighting, but he was far better dressed in his woolen coat and trousers and knee-high leather boots to defend against smaller teeth and claws than Citan was. Against anything even a smidge more serious his clothes would mean nothing, even be a hindrance, but they gave him some confidence as he stepped up to Citan's side again. He swung the loaded pillowcase in one hand to get some momentum going and balled his free hand into a fist held slightly in front of his body as he somewhat copied Citan's low stance.

Against creatures so low to the ground, he wasn't sure the defensive blocks Alec and Morrison had shown him would be much help, but he tried to keep them in mind as well. So many things to keep track of when trying to fight. He hoped he could actually help this time.

Even if the patients had heard them and were ready, the rats didn't hesitate. They continued to stick close to each other as they reached the two, and it was only once they were practically at the two men's feet that they split up.

One rat went for Citan, tail swinging around as it jumped forward and aimed for his ankle. Another moved toward Armand, skirting around the pillowcase he was swinging in order to make an attempt to latch onto his leg as well.

The third started to circle around behind them, not wanting to give the two any chance of escape. The creatures didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that the things they were attacking were much larger than them.

Citan had to fight back a chuckle as the diseased little thing went for his foot. He brought his foot up and out in a sharp little kick, intending to catch the thing in its middle and send it backwards.

"Tenacious creatures, aren't they?" he called back to Armand, narrowing his eyes some at the animal going for his companion. He hated to turn his back on the one attack him, but...well...he knew Armand was no fighter.

"Yes," Armand agreed. He kicked out at the rat, to break its attempt to attach itself to him, and turned in place so he could swing the weighted pillowcase again. He lost track of the other two rats.

"Where did the other ones go?"

Nightshift 35: West Wing, South Hall 1-B

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