damned_institute | Nightshift 36: Men's Bathrooms (M81-M120)

[With Leon from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/491056.html?thread=39978032#t39978032)]

Clark wanted to shake his head as he followed Leon down the halls. He wasn't sure he even wanted to know how his roommate smuggled a knife out of Doyleton, much less got it on the bus and into their shared room without him even seeing it. The farmboy tagged along after the shorter boy, closing the bathroom door behind him and looking around, his flashlight flickering. The batteries had lasted way longer than he would've thought possible, but obviously they were running pretty low on juice. He just hoped it wouldn't go out tonight.

Clark stepped to the side, sweeping the weak beam of his flashlight about the bathroom. Was it him, or where there some pipes missing?

Leon frowned slightly, seeing that the bathroom had already been picked over. Still, there was metal left and there was little point going elsewhere until he had determined just how much he could get here. "Well. We were slow, I see."

The room itself, though, actually felt more like some of the dungeons Leon had been in at home than any other place in this "hospital" ever had--something about the drip of water from the damaged pipes and the coolness of the tile made Leon think of underground spaces. Of... no. He could not afford to let his memories go there.

Leon moved to the nearest intact pipes, and knelt to examine them more closely. It would take some work to get them loose.

Place was pretty spooky, Clark had to admit. He wasn't exactly defenseless, but that didn't mean he couldn't be feeling uneasy.

Joining Leon, he glanced at the pipes. They looked a tiny bit rusted, but he was fairly sure he could remove them, even with his powers on the fritz. Reaching out, he put his hand around one of the pipes and made a show of wiggling it before just giving it a good pull. With a screech, it came out in his hand.

"That okay?" he asked, holding the pipe out to Leon.

Leon arched an eyebrow at Clark's little show of wiggling the pipe, like that was enough to loosen it--they had looked sturdier than that to Leon. Well, not looking a gift horse in the mouth seemed the wisest course of action here, so Leon didn't say anything except, "It's a good start. I need enough for a sword, and this metal seems to be impure. Why don't you work on this end, and I'll go to the other?" That way Clark wouldn't need to pretend, if that was what he was doing. Leon imagined a few solid kicks could get him a few pipes of his own, as well, and two doing the work was better.

"Sure," Clark said, relieved Leon didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

Clark moved down a little further away, ducking so he could reach out and begin to work on the pipes. He was relieved he'd been able to pull it out, actually - he'd been half-expecting it not to budge or for him to accidentally crush it, what with his powers being on the fritz. Happy to be helpful and not be dangerous, like his heat vision, Clark set about removing the pipes at his end. Soon enough he had a small pile of them, about as much as he could carry.

He wasn't sure why Leon would want a sword of all things, though. He got his roomie wanted to be armed but knowing how to use a sword was kind of a weird skill. And how he was even planning to make it, anyway? Clark knew there were some people claiming they could change things but he hadn't actually ever seen them do it. And he doubted they'd be able to forge a sword in Landels without abilities.

"I think I'm done over here," Clark said after a bit, glancing over at Leon.

Leon had only managed to get a few pipes himself--it was a lot of work, breaking the things apart. He would never admit it had anything to do with his size, but the fact was that he just didn't have a lot of brute strength to go around--he'd always let skill and magical power make up for that fact. Unfortunately, skill didn't seem to be very helpful with getting pipes separated. They were screwed in awfully tightly... Clark definitely had more strength than Leon would have thought, even for his size.

Slightly short of breath but hiding it out of pride, Leon picked up the lengths of pipe he'd managed to break free--at least it had been easier after the first one--and put them in the pillowcase he brought. "I believe this should be enough. If not, I'll gather a little more tomorrow, since my appointment with the 'cook' is not until the night after that."

"Do you need help hiding all this in the room?" Clark asked, looking down at what he collected - now in his arms - and at the pillowcase Leon had brought with him. He had to admit, he was curious about this "cook" and how, exactly, Leon planned to get a sword of all things in Landels - and where was he going to hide a sword in the room anyway?

"I should be fine once we get it back to the room." Leon shifted the bag so that it was slung over his shoulder, and he could hang onto it with his bad hand--that way he could keep his good hand for the spear. "Thanks for the help."

[did we want a monster, or what?]

[If they get into a fight now, it might be awkward with the stuff they're carrying though - they might lose some of it in the fight, if you're okay with that?]

"You're welcome," Clark said with a startled smile, a little surprised he'd actually been thanked by his roommate. "Do you need me to carry anything else? I'm, uh, pretty strong, so I can help out."

It was the least he could do. Clark still felt bad about the fight, even if he knew he wasn't (entirely) the one at fault. Besides, he was helping Leon to protect himself, he thought, so any disagreement he had with his roomie was kind of a moot point there since they were two totally different things, in his mind.

[I'm fine with that. He does have another night to get more if he needs it. ^_^ And things have been going too smoothly for him lately!]

Leon had quite figured out that Clark was very strong, at this point, but in the interest of not getting ditched here with a pile of metal he couldn't easily carry on his own, he bit back the snide comment he otherwise would have made about Clark's stating of the obvious. "No, just getting this settled away is sufficient."

It came from the darkness as the two men talked. Silently, of course, they were always silent; and not easily noticed either. It approached without a sound, without a presence, because it had none to give away. Slowly, it ate away at Clark's reflection in the mirror, replacing the youthful image with its own half rotten one. Bit by bit, the flesh fell away, bone showed through and then - it was there. It was watching. It was mimicking and waiting.

All it needed was a chance to escape and for the two men to look its way.

[Kaze]

It wasn't something Clark would've noticed, not at first, anyway. But he happened to glance over at the sinks when Leon was talking and he thought he saw something.

Something that didn't seem right. It was at first too dark to figure it out, but, bringing his flashlight up, he froze. Something was there in the mirror, where his reflection was supposed to be, and it took him a long, scared second to realize it was him, except it was rotting, dead. Bone poked through. Feeling the hair raising on the back of his arms, Clark backed away.

His voice was a little strained. "...Leon."

At the tense tone of Clark's voice, Leon immediately came to full attention. He dropped the bag of metal and swung his spear into attack position before he even turned to see what Clark was looking at. He would not be caught unawares by this place again.

When he finally did see the problem, the tip of the spear wavered for a moment and Leon swallowed loudly. Zombie. He could remember... the feel of his flesh rotting, slipping off his bones, wet and putrid from his time in the water... trapped in a body already dead, not his own to command... no, he would not suffer that hell again.

Too wary. The little prey possibly knew already what sort of things the mirabis could do. Maybe they knew how it could mimic and hurt and bite and kill and feast on their flesh. That was a little inconvenient.

As Clark moved away, the mirabis moved forward, peering out from the mirror wearing the same concerned look Clark did. Pressing its hands against the mirror, it starting pushing and the glass snapped beneath its fingers, cracks spidering across the surface.

Clark flinched at the crack, but his eyes were fixed on the other's, seeing his own expression even though the face was half-rotted and unable to look away. Creepy was an understatement and while he'd been scared before in the past, this was a whole 'nother level here, like he'd been dumped with a bucket of cold water, his hands feeling weirdly clammy. Maybe it was a human thing.

He found himself backing away but by then it was too late - he could see the very real cracks on the mirror's surface, whatever was there trying to get out. Clark remembered the last time he'd tried to fight something head-on here; he'd been torn up pretty bad and if it wasn't for the Chapel, he might not have made it. They had to get out of here.

Taking those few steps back and then toward Leon, seemed to take a lot of effort. He didn't know how fast these things are, but he had to grab his roomie and hustle out the door.

Leon frowned and shifted the spear a little, to cover the way his hands were shaking. This wasn't the same as what had happened to him. This wasn't actually Clark, become something rotted and helpless--this was a separate being, and it was trying to get out and reach them. He could do this.

Except there would be precious little to hit with a bladed weapon, on that thing, and damn if he hadn't traded the heavy metal pipe to Seiya. The bits and scraps of piping they'd pulled apart wouldn't anywhere near as effective, either. Damn and damn again. Definitely time to go. "You're unarmed. Get out of here, I'll cover you."

The mirror cracked and a piece fell out of the frame, crashing to the ground and splintering into a hundred little pieces. The prey were trying to leave and that just wouldn't do. Raising a fist, the mirabis punched the glass again and the entire mirror bowed out. It punched again and the glass shattered, spraying shards everywhere. And from the black hole, the mirabis came - a decayed Clark Kent, muscle visible through holes in his skin and where there was no muscle, then there was bone. Few teeth were left in its mouth, but it had strength and that was what mattered.

Grabbing the edge of the mirror, the mirabis pushed and the frame bent away, giving it enough space to begin to crawl out.

"I'm not leaving you here," Clark said, his voice shaking a little. By now he had managed to cross the room, but the mirror zombie was close, too close and his heart was hammering again, breath hitching. Clark continued to back away, tried not to look at it and see what he could recognize of it in himself - he could only hope it didn't have his powers, because the last thing they needed was some super-fast, strong zombie armed with invulnerability and heat vision.

Reaching out, he grabbed Leon by his upper arm, pulling him back with some of the same strength he had used on the pipes, although he was very careful not to squeeze, and took a few more steps backward toward the exit.

Leon was shielding his face from the flying glass when Clark grabbed him, and so he had no time to react except to stumble after the lunkhead unwillingly. What ridiculous strength! "Let go of me, you idiot!"

Couldn't he see that the thing was too close, that they needed some sort of strategy, a way to delay it long enough for them to get away? And now Leon, the only one who was armed--and apparently the only one with the sense nature gave a piyo bird--was off-balance and had one arm pinned by Clark's grip, leaving him more vulnerable to attack than he had been a moment ago.

Nightshift 36: Men's Bathrooms (M81-M120)

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