Nightshift 36: F31-40 Hallway

[quickdrawbkiddo.livejournal.com]

[outside F33 to be specific]

Beatrix, with sword across back and chef knife in her makeshift oven mitt sheathe that rests on her hip, stepped into the hallway after warning Maki that one of her wards was coming to the room. She'd attempt to give the other woman and her 'date' some space when she could, but she had no plans on discussing Rena's disappearance with Hanyuu out in the hallway. She was only out there to keep an eye out for the small girl. She didn't expect there to be trouble in the F-Block hallways, but one never knew.

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[meironohosoku.livejournal.com]

That hadn't taken long at all. Hanyuu wasn't sure whether to be glad or anxious for that, although it was safe to say anxiety was winning. She couldn't help but remember the last time she'd gone to Arlene's room; that had been a very bad night... Surely tonight couldn't be anything like that.

The spirit hugged herself and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. It wouldn't do any good to get riled up before she even heard what Arlene had to say. And it didn't seem she had long to wait for that, as someone was waiting outside of Arlene's room. The dark made it difficult to make out who it was, but given how early it still was, Hanyuu felt sure it was either Arlene or her roommate.

"Arlene?" she called quietly, hoping she wasn't mistaking the figure. "I-is that you?"

[quickdrawbkiddo.livejournal.com]

The flashlight swung in Hanyuu's direction upon her speaking and the Bride quickly lowered it so as to not blind the girl.

"Hanyuu," she said, breathing out a small sigh of relief. She issued a heavy smile. "I'm glad you made it here safely." She glanced back at her room, knowing Maki was in there waiting for whomever was coming by, but not wanting to talk about this out in the hallway. She was torn.

"Let's go just inside my room. Maki has someone coming to visit her for the night, so we can't stay long, but I don't want to be out in the hallway too long."

[tostepforward.livejournal.com]

The sound of an unfamiliar voice was what woke Ayumu from a sleep she didn't remember entering, and before the last strange crackling noise faded she was out of the bed and trying to determine the situation. The last thing she recalled was speaking to Tetsunosuke on her way out of the compound, and then - nothing. And now here she was in an unfamiliar, dark room, with no idea of how she'd arrived there or even where it was.

Not-knowing was something that made her very, very uncomfortable.

Her normal clothing was gone, replaced by something odd and Western in style, and accordingly none of her usual equipment was still on her person. Even her fingernails had been trimmed, she was rather displeased to discover, as well as disturbed that someone had gone to that much trouble when they'd presumably imprisoned her here. However that had happened, and whoever had done it.

One might think she would have remembered it if she'd been caught and captured by the Choushuu, but stranger things could happen, she supposed. Right now, though, the immediate problem wasn't how she got there but what she was going to do now.

The place was dark, but Ayumu would hardly be a credit to her training if she couldn't deal with that. She found the door first, somewhat surprised to find it unlocked, though outside was only more darkness and the faint sounds of voices too indistinct to be made out. It seemed calm for the moment, at least, so she had time to examine her current surroundings.

A search of the room revealed identical beds, desks, and closets on either side, with a chest of drawers in between. Several of the items she found she left where they were, unable to identify some and uninterested in others, but the bundle of sticks made of strange material she pulled from a desk drawer and kept. After distributing several of them in various places under her clothing, she donned the oversized coast found in one of the closets to hide the annoying bulges some of them left. This clothing, whatever it was, was certainly not suitable at all.

Now prepared as best as she could be, Ayumu slipped out the door and down the hall, careful to stay silent as she headed in the direction of where she could hear other people. This place certainly didn't seem like any part of Kyoto she had ever seen before, but where and what it was, she intended to find out.

[tostepforward.livejournal.com]

[going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/486080.html?thread=39683776#t39683776)]

[morphenominal.livejournal.com]

It was the same routine that she'd practiced numerous times before; she knew it frontwards and backwards, and yet tonight it was proving to be much more difficult. Kimberly knew what the reason for that was--she'd been doing nothing but training and fighting lately, after all. Even athletes needed breaks now and then, but she was determined to perfect this routine. It wasn't as though she could tell Coach Schmidt the reason she'd needed to run out in the middle of practice, so she needed to show him that she was serious about her training.

Unfortunately, as she quickly discovered, having the determination and drive to do something didn't always mean it would work. Kimberly fought to regain her balance, but she was just too tired. Her reflexes weren't as quick as they'd normally be and almost before she could comprehend the fact that she was falling, everything went black.

The Pink Ranger wasn't sure how much time had passed, but it was a pounding headache that woke her up. With a groan, she reached up to rub her head and it was only after a few minutes that she managed to open her eyes.

Opening her eyes didn’t make much of a difference, though; the room was pitch black. That certainly wasn’t right... Kimberly frowned as she sat up, ignoring the headache as she tried to look at her surroundings.

She could already tell she wasn’t at the Youth Center anymore; the fact that she’d woken up on a bed rather than the mats told her that much. It was possible that Tommy or Ernie had come back to check on her, but then where were they? And that still didn’t answer where she was.

Well, if all else failed, ask Zordon.

“Hey, Zor...” The name trailed off as Kimberly realized her communicator was missing. As if things weren’t strange enough... She wasted no time in throwing back the covers and searching the bed for the small device. When that failed to turn up anything other than a flashlight, she checked under the bed then sighed when that failed too.

Great... She was in an unknown place, armed only with a flashlight, and her communicator was missing. Well, she doubted she’d learn anything just standing around. If Rita and Zedd were somehow behind this, then she needed to find a way to contact the rest of the team.

Moving to the door, she was surprised to find it unlocked. It opened into a hallway so, after taking a moment to prepare herself, the Pink Ranger slipped outside and moved down the hall.

[morphenominal.livejournal.com]

[marin-karin.livejournal.com]

If anyone were to ask, Mitsuru would have to tell them that she was probably ready to face most things that came her way. Already, she had she had lost several people in her life, and faced monsters more terrible than any that most of the world knew of. She led a team of her fellow students against those monsters, and anyone would have called them crazy if they knew how they fought them.

She knew that there were still things that she was unprepared for, and simple things that she was unfamiliar with given her upbringing. However, nothing could prepare her for waking in a strange bed to a crackle of static and a voice over what sounded like an intercom, and Mitsuru fought down the panic that rose within her as she tried to figure out just what was going on. She had been on vacation. She'd been in Kyoto with the rest of her school, sleeping in the hotel with all the others. She had been with the rest of S.E.E.S., save for Amada and Koromaru, and none of them were in the room with her. So where was she now, how had she gotten here, and where was everybody else?

It couldn't be Strega. They wouldn't dare try another kidnapping plot while everyone was together, and she doubted that they even knew or cared that S.E.E.S. was on vacation. Besides, the last time they had attempted a kidnapping, it had let to S.E.E.S.' own capture of Chidori. If she thought about it carefully, it was almost as though this were another Shadow's attempts to deceive them, but again she was forced to wonder why this had occurred during the Kyoto trip. Besides, they had defeated all the powerful shadows, so it was unlikely. Then there was the matter of the voice over the intercom...

Everything added up to equal nothing.

Either way, she wouldn't figure out anything lying in bed, wondering just who would come through the door. It sounded as though the door had unlocked, but the room still appeared empty for the time being, even though there were two beds, so it would be worth her while to take advantage of that. Without another moment's hesitation, Mitsuru was out of bed and taking another look around. She initially noted with slight disgust that the outfit she was wearing was far from something she would normally wear, but at least 'they' (whoever they were) had thought enough to give her clothing, so she couldn't really complain.

In addition, the room had the look of a hospital. Not a normal hospital, though, a specialty kind of some sort. The lack of equipment told her that it wasn't an emergency of some sort, and the layout seemed more like something suited to a rehabilitation clinic. They certainly hadn't had anything like this in Kyoto, to her knowledge. Did the company even know she was here?

She looked quickly through the desk, taking the journal and one of the pens before heading to the door and opening it. Mitsuru hadn't expected it to be just as dark as the room. It seemed almost like...

...Almost like Tartarus and the Dark Hour.

But if that were the case, the intercom should not have been working unless it had been modified specifically for this purpose. And if that were the case, then it would be dangerous to leave, even though she needed to in order to discover just where she was. Not to mention, those few dots of light that she saw floating about wouldn't be working. Flashlights wouldn't work at all during the--

[marin-karin.livejournal.com]

Wait, this couldn't be the Dark Hour, could it? Not if flashlights were working. For that matter, where had the flashlights come from? If this was a rehabilitation clinic of any sort, would they really have provided them, just in case? Doubtful, but people had them, regardless. Otherwise, these were just shadows, and she refused to accept that she was suddenly back on Port Island or that the shadows had extended their reach.

Suddenly, things seemed a bit less dangerous to Mitsuru, and she turned back to her room. After several long moments of searching, she finally pulled the flashlight out from under her pillow victoriously and flicked it on before heading out into the hall.

They had taken her weapon and Evoker, but she could hit things with her flashlight, kick, or even stab with the pen if she really needed to. But she needed more information, and thought it well worth the potential risk. She simply had to figure out what was going on.

F34

[ellectriclights.livejournal.com]

Elle was fumbling with her sling, trying to put it back on, when night fell. As soon as she'd managed to get it back in place, she generated a ball of electricity to see by and headed for the door. Her hand fell on the doorknob, and she sent some of the electricity into the metal, warming it up as much as she could. A nasty little surprise for Lia, when she decided to leave, and one that she could pass off as an accident later.

She slammed the door hard on her way out, because she needed to take her frustration out, and Daddy would be upset if she took it out on a person.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/486650.html?thread=39708154#t39708154)]

Re: F34

[gray-gambit.livejournal.com]

In retrospect, the heat of the doorknob should probably have been evident before Lia touched it. She wasn't anticipating it, wasn't paying attention to such minute cues, and so she'd grasped it before she noticed. She hissed a soft Nehelese curse and jerked her hand back, waving it as though to cool her singed fingers as she glared at the door. And wished it was a person. After a few seconds thought, she lit upon a solution to the small problem, and wrapped the tail of her coat around the knob to open the door and let herself out into the hall.

[centermusthold]

The silence was excruciating. She liked silence, and sterility; the impregnable exactitude of a moment without beginning, without ending, alone with her thoughts and a neat, organized array of bones. But this silence was impossible to bear. Of course, it ended. It must have ended. She remembered the feel of the wires in her hands and the way every breath tore at her lungs, the smell of three thousand dollar perfume, and that ridiculous belt buckle Booth had been wearing yesterday practically burned into her retinas (although she couldn’t think why that was the one image she recalled). But all those things were gone now.

Such anomalous sensations, but it’s strange what you think about right before you die.

And then the silence too was gone, and she was reaching up, like moving through solid rock, scrambling against gravity and straining upwards to find his hand. Maybe (just maybe) Hodgins was right. Maybe she had faith in Booth, but more likely she’d simply analyzed the facts and come to the logical conclusion that he’d be there, waiting.

But he wasn’t. Her hand never found his.

Brennan sat bolt upright, gasping for air, every breath still searing as her erythrocytes struggled to make the gas exchange between carbon dioxide and oxygen. The endotracheal surface must be scored with dust particles, which was why it was so difficult to breathe.

Oxygen. There was so much oxygen. She wasn’t in the car any longer. Impossible. How could she not remember anything after setting off her makeshift bomb? Retrograde amnesia was a common symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder, but she’d been in highly stressful situations (as stressful as being buried alive?) and had never experienced memory loss.

Easy, Brennan. Think. You’re not in the car, so where are you? It was a bed; that was certain. And she was clean and wearing what felt like pajamas. A hospital bed? No, the room was pitch black. Hospitals always kept a light on. Groping around, Brennan quickly discovered a flashlight lying under her pillow.

This definitely wasn't a hospital, she decided, shining the flashlight around. No heart rate monitor, no oxygen tanks, no nurses, no…

No Booth.

Admit it, you expected to find him here, waiting next to you for you to wake up, she thought. Obviously, something was wrong, because she knew her partner. He was the kind of guy who would beat a whole platoon of doctors up rather than let her wake up alone in a strange room after an ordeal. He was irrational like that.

So not a hospital. A prison? No, those were equipped only with the barest necessities. This room not only had a bed, but a nightstand, desk, chair, and closet as well.

A quick test of motor functions proved that she was quite healthy. Possibly too healthy for someone who had just spent thirteen hours underground, but she wasn’t about to look an equus caballus in the mouth if it meant she could get up and examine her surroundings more carefully.

[centermusthold]

An examination of the furniture turned up a journal, a set of pens, an empty key ring, and two pairs of batteries. And more of the same grey pajamas she was wearing were hung up in the closet. One set of slippers, one set of what she could only describe as… outdoor slippers. A painfully imprecise term of which she did not approve, but she couldn’t think of any other way to evaluate the shoes.

What did all these things add up to? They wanted her to write in the journal, obviously, but for what purpose? Anthropologically speaking, journal keeping was a way to record the present and preserve the past. Journals could also be utilized in the comprehension of voluminous data in a formal setting, but Brennan suspected she hadn’t been brought here to be lectured.

As for the outfits: forcing someone to wear a uniform was generally a way of suppressing individuality, either as a method of crushing the spirit or simply keeping rowdy children in line. In the case of prisons, they gave everyone generic clothes to aid in identification should an inmate escape, and hospitals provided gowns for comfort and easy access. Since she wasn’t wearing a hospital gown, had never heard of a prison that put smiley faces on its uniforms, and was no longer in grade school, she was leaning towards the “suppress individuality as a method of crushing the spirit” explanation. A fake prison, then. An unsanctioned one, or one sanctioned by an incredibly corrupt government.

The flashlight could indicate a desire on her captor’s apart (no, not captors – that was jumping to a conclusion, this could be some kind of… specialized hospital…) that she leave the room after dark without the supervision of someone with their own light. Or they expected her to write in her journal after dark, but there were no floor or desk lamps, so that seemed unlikely.

Well, might as well see where the door led. Bracing herself in case an attack came, Brennan opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

[tranquil-seas.livejournal.com]

Once the dinner trays had been taken away, Michiru gathered the borrowed pipe and her flashlight, placing them next to her on the bed. It was a little risky to have them out so early, but she wanted to be ready to go as soon as the doors opened. If a nurse happened by, she could easily shove both items under the pillow. There had been none that stopped by after the trays were taken on the previous night, though.

And much to Michiru's relief, there were none that came by this time. Once the doors were unlocked, the senshi grabbed her items and bid her roommate goodbye as she hurried out the door.

The hallway was dark like before, but Michiru resisted the urge to turn on her flashlight. They only lasted so long, and from what she could tell on the bulletin board, it was a pain to find more batteries. For the moment, she was only following the corridor to its end. She wouldn't need it until later, if she and Seiya ran into something unpleasant.

[tranquil-seas.livejournal.com]

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/486080.html?thread=39801280#t39801280).]

[endlessjune.livejournal.com]

Much like the first time she woke up in this place, Rika was surprised that she wasn't landing on something when she finally woke up in a new world. She could assume that this was another 'world', and that she had died in her previous foray into Landels. Again, without any memory of dying. Part of her hoped that she had returned to Hinamizawa, at the very least, but Rika frowned when she realized that she had woken up on a soft bed, in a room with no lights.

It was during her sudden investigation of this room that it was indeed a room in Landel's; if she had died, then this meant that the playing field had changed permanently. Rika wasn't sure what to make of this new development, brow furrowed as she tried to collect herself. She had failed the first round, but she had learned that the death of the radio man must have been a sign. It made sense, back home at least: Someone important died, then she would follow. But how far had she been taken back?

And most importantly, how? Did Hanyuu...?

"Hanyuu?!" Rika called, not sure if her friend was still in a physical form, or if she would emerge from the halls with that familiar pathetic wail. When she received no response, Rika realized that once again, she would have to find the spirit on her own.

"How rude, making me look for her again. I'm going to make sure Mii-chan makes her eat an extra spicy tuna roll for a penalty game when we get back," Rika mumbled to herself, but she didn't sound too amused at her own joke as she tried the door and realized to her dismay that she had woken up during a nightshift.

There were lots of things Rika realized she would have to check, to see how far she sent back and how she died, and if anyone remembered her in the previous world, but first, she had to find Hanyuu once more.

[endlessjune.livejournal.com]

[ moved up here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/487192.html?thread=40380696#t40380696) ]

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

Tsubaki could only call it fog, what she found there in her soul. Like thick fog that had rolled in from the horizon, and left her holding her knees to her bare chest in the small circle of water left to her. Why? Where was it coming from? How? What was there in her? No answers were coming. Even the ancestors' presence, her brother's presence, had become scarcely a whisper, somewhere beyond the fog.

Was it possible for her own soul to become a lonely place?

The thought had come to her while she'd been deep in meditation, and Tsubaki had clutched her knees tighter for one moment before opening her eyes in the heart of her soul and slowly rising out to full consciousness. It'd been harder spending the day not knowing, but even so, searching deep enough to feel the effects was difficult. To have something cold and foreign laying on her, so much so that it was preventing her from entering into corners of her own soul at her ease... It was both upsetting and unfathomably elaborate magic

That Michiru had somewhere to be again didn't surprise her; Tsubaki waved numbly and kept watching the door until she could no longer sense the other girl's presence. Then she dropped her head a little, holding tight to the flashlight in her lap.

Even though she suspected as much, Tsubaki tried to transform into her ninjatou form and was met with no response. She'd never been blocked off from her weapon forms before--the idea of the power behind it scared her. But she'd been told it was the same for almost everyone in Landel's Institute, and that meant it wasn't something she could fix. Not when there were plenty of people who had probably tried and were still looking for answers. Thursday had told her as much.

So after a moment, she got up and tucked the flashlight into the makeshift carrier she'd made out of her bed sheet, a rope tied high and tight around her waist, with a niche for the flashlight to slip into and sit just under her shirt. The radio was tucked in the other side. Tsubaki had promised to be somewhere, and she wouldn't hold them up. There was no time to feel sorry for herself, or go back on her word just because s.

Until I see Black☆Star again...

She still had skills in her human form, and that'd have to be good enough.

[thecamellia.livejournal.com]

_{[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/486080.html?thread=39835584#t39835584)]}

F33

[showtime-matsu.livejournal.com]

He had gone down the first hall he'd come to almost on impulse, but it looked like he'd been right. Luck, that's all it had been. Luck and a random guess. Still, it got him this far, and still no monsters. If he could make it there, he'd be safe. Matsuda hurried down the hall, glancing up at each of the rooms he passed for the numbers, before continuing on until he finally came to F33.

The door was still open, and there were two people standing off in a corner, talking quietly. Perhaps one of them was Naomi's roommate? He didn't really want to interrupt them by knocking, so he came in a little ways and stuck close to Naomi's side of the room. "Hi, Maki," he said softly, giving her a wave. Then he inclined his head towards the people talking in the corner. "Sorry, should I go wait outside? Is this a bad time?"

Re: F33

[fyeonly.livejournal.com]

Wow, Matsuda was quick. Naomi stood up, smoothing down her uniform pants and shook her head. She didn't even want to think what Arlene thought about all this, though she could surmise.

"No, it's fine," she said. "I was actually just going to run a small errand, I didn't expect you so soon."

She was careful not to let her voice sound annoyed - she wasn't. And she didn't want to give that impression.

[demon-beast.livejournal.com]

It felt weird, spending the evening in her room alone without Nami there to talk to, or even just the sound of her breathing. It was miserable. She hadn't even made a token effort to pretend that she was human by eating the food given to her, just glared darkly at the nurse, half tempted to sink her teeth into the woman's neck there and then and devour until there were only bones left.

She'd thrown herself down onto the bed, growling beneath her breath. There would be blood before the end of the night, she promised herself that. But there was something hard beneath the pillow and Argilla frowned, sigging beneath it. Her hand closed around a long rectangular block. She pulled it out and just stared for a moment before hugging the bar of chocolate to her chest. Nami must have left it. She'd remembered!

Argilla unwrapped a corner of the chocolate and broke off a small piece, determined to savour it and make it last as long as she could.

She sighed when the intercom sounded, going to grab the pole and then slipping out of the door to go and meet her Tribe.

[demon-beast.livejournal.com]

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/486650.html?view=39899130#t39899130)]

[see-my-back.livejournal.com]

It was hard to comprehend just how fast Naruto’s strength was growing. Just when Sakura thought she might catch up, he’d already learned a new jutsu or a new way to use his full strength. Considering who they were chasing, she knew it was necessary, but it felt like she was only falling further behind.

Now Naruto had left to train with the frog sages, while word had reached them that Sasuke had already killed not just Orochimaru, but Itachi as well. Two of the greatest threats Konoha village had ever known. And what was she doing? Helping Tsunade and improving her medical jutsu. It was hard enough work, but she didn’t have near the results the boys did to show for it.

When she woke up in an unfamiliar room, it wasn’t too surprising. Sometimes she stayed late to help at the hospital when Tsunade couldn’t and she might wake up any number of places. This room, however, was not anything she’d come across in Konoha’s hospital.

First of all, she was wearing some really drab, grey pajamas with a yellow smiling face on the front. It might be something Naruto would wear, but it definitely wasn’t up her alley. Even her headband was missing! A search of the dresser drawers only revealed more of the same.

“Hello?” Sakura called. “Hey, can anyone hear me?” She pushed the door open only to be met with darkness. Great. While darkness could be an excellent tool for sneaking around, it was usually best if you were familiar with the area. Sakura was not pleased with the prospect of sneaking around in the dark trying to figure out where she was.

She was hesitant to leave the room without anything on hand, so she did another quick sweep of the room. There was a flashlight at least, which might come in handy, at the very least for getting an idea of where she was, and there were a few pens that might not seem like much, but when used correctly, even old wooden odango sticks could be a pretty good weapon, why not pens?

The situation was less than ideal, but she had to try. She absolutely refused to be the weak, frightened, little girl in need of rescue. Whatever was going on, she'd get to the bottom of it.

[see-my-back.livejournal.com]

[[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/486080.html?thread=40092608#t40092608)]]

[mateswithnobody.livejournal.com]

Dinner had been lovely, and so had a quick conversation with her roommate once again, but Donna decided that another good night's rest wasn't on the agenda for this evening. This was the third day she'd been here, and it was getting annoying. That spaceman should have gotten something done by now, and since he hadn't, Donna knew she should step in.

There had to be records somewhere in this place, after all, and she could get through them in no time.

After locating the flashlight beneath her pillow, Donna stepped into the hallway and glanced both directions, finding a dead end to the left. Not that way then.

She didn't have any idea just where she was supposed to be going, but most records were kept either in a basement storage or otherwise an upstairs filing area. All she needed to do was find some stairs.

[mateswithnobody.livejournal.com]