damned_institute | Night 36: Staff Lounge

Entry tags:

brooklyn,
near

Night 36: Staff Lounge

[From here]

The door opened without noteworthy effort, and Near immediately noticed that this new room was as dark as any of the rest, creating a cliche foreboding atmosphere within. Brooklyn was the first to go inside, a wise tactical move, then Near followed, pushing his cart along. The hand truck was left by the door, however, and Near quickly cut his flashlight free with the box cutter so he could use it within the room.

"We will have to search for whatever it is." How thoroughly remained to be seen, as did what might potentially trigger any traps associated with the clue. Given that the locations had been veiled, however transparently, Near assumed that the items shouldn't be easily obtained. But at the same time, the protection of indirect revelation would lead one to question who wasn't supposed to know where these items were hidden. The obvious answer was of course Martin Landel.

Yet if that were the case, why would there be more difficult traps around the clue at all? Near knew there were, from his conversation with Usopp. Had they been hidden in more dangerous locations on purpose? Another bit of the puzzle that would likely need to be pieced together before it made sense.

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One huge paw pinning the child, the Lamassu closed it for the kill; mouth wide and rows of overlapping, sharp teeth bared, it snapped at Near, mad with hunger, rage and pain. Only his quick actions with the box cutter saved him from the full force of the bite; the slim blade bit deep, parting the rotted and decaying sinews and muscle and lodging against the bone of the creature's jaw.

As it bit down, Brooklyn's blade finally found its mark, penetrating a vunerable spot at the base of its neck and scraping against the bone as he drove it in as deeply as possible. The Lamassu would have roared its pain, but the sound was muted by the extensive damage to its skull and jaw - it was already dead, it just didn't know it yet.

But even as the life - if that was what it could be called anyway - ebbed out of it, the Lamassu seemed intent to fight to the finish. Its wings still buffeted Brooklyn as it stumbled and fell heavily forward, the combined weight of its body and Brooklyn driving the jaws down at Near.

But that seemed to be the last it could do, as it gave one final, shuddering breath and went still, its bulk now resting heavily atop the patient beneath it.

The pain was intense, and two-fold; first the bite of course, doing greater damage to an arm already injured. He hadn't been able to position it as perfectly as he wanted due to the previous wounds, but by angling his arm in a certain manner, he'd been able to reduce the additional injury by keeping most of the limb on the cut side of the mouth. The damage he had done to it by slicing half of it's jaw open drastically reduced it's biting power, particularly on that side. So while it was worse, Near hadn't suffered so much as he could have.

From the bite.

The second part of the pain came when the creature fell forward, it's head landing directly on Near's torso. Because it had already attempted to close its mouth, damage from the teeth would be minimal there. The sheer weight, however, of the monster's body combined with his ally was more than enough to force out a sound mixed with pain and shock from the intensity of it. Near's head rolled back, and suddenly he found it very difficult to breathe.

"Brooklyn." Near knew the other man was suffering, but lacking any desire to suffocate, he also knew that time was an important factor now. Amazingly, he kept his voice steady, empty of the panic he could sense rising in the back of his mind. "I need you to get this creature off of me, if you would please."

Finally the creature fell still. Brooklyn was going to wait, see if there was any chance it might rise again, but Nate's voice brought his attention back to the more important things. He pulled his weapons free and tucked them, still covered in gore, back in the pockets of his robe.

Then he stepped off the dead monster, staggering sideways several steps before falling over. He was bruised, dizzy, and was still bleeding fairly heavily from his side. Nate was trapped, though, and he had to free the boy before he was crushed any further.

With some effort, he got himself back on his feet and by Nate's side. "Hold on... I got it." It would have been nothing had he been his normal self, but moving the creature now was a more difficult task. The sight he was greeted with when he did caused him to hiss. He'd allowed his charge to get that badly injured. Such a great protector he was. "I'll... I'll wrap that up best I can."

“No.” Near said that not because his wounds didn’t need treatment—far from it. But now that the creature was dead, new priorities came into play. Brooklyn’s injuries were at a minimum equally severe. Though he couldn’t see to truly assess the extent, the sound of the man’s stumbling footsteps followed by the heavy thud of his body hitting the floor made it obvious that Brooklyn would need immediate treatment.

A frown crossed Near’s face at the thought. Their supplies were limited to say the least. To use clothing would require the clothing be torn, and clean enough to be used. While most of Near’s shirt hadn’t been so stained by blood that it was still an option, the teenager was dismayed to discover that at some point during the altercation, he’d been so afraid that he’d wet himself. It was a natural response, and Near’s negative reaction wasn’t out of any sort of embarrassment, but dually out of only realizing it at that moment, and that the cloth could not be used for a more important purpose due to the contamination.

So far, all of the news had been bad.

“Cut off your shirt, but move as little as possible to do it.” Sitting up brought a new wave of agony, leaving Near rather certain that at least one rib was cracked; the absolute best case scenario, and one that didn’t take into account the damage to his leg. It took more effort than the normally detached boy was used to expending to force his body to do what he wanted. Every bit of his physical response screamed an urge to do what he had instructed Brooklyn to, yet that was not an option in this instance. The benefit to the extent of the injuries they had both suffered was that the creature was nearby, and Near only had to shift a short distance in order to retrieve what he wanted: the box cutter.

The blade was hardly sterile, but it was the best option. It could cut fabric with the least expenditure of energy in the shortest amount of time. The only additional concern was the way Near’s hand shook when he lifted the cutter, putting the blade into the collar of his shirt and pushing down. Minor scratches accidentally incurred by the act he could handle. Yet it was so odd to have to think about making such a mistake, given his normally exceptional motor control.

“Try to make strips out of the cloth that isn’t already blood-soaked, and treat your injuries if you can. If you can’t, I will.” Near’s voice remained steady and deceptively calm, particularly now when dizziness was beginning to set in. Yet he knew that succumbing to the urge to lay down would do no good. Their injuries had to be treated, and then there would be two goals left for them, neither of which involved leaving the room.

One was to find their prize and claim it. The other was simply to survive until morning.

Brooklyn had already been removing his coat and he set it aside. It would be a bit thicker and they might need it intact. The shirt then followed, and the gargoyle pulled out one of his blades, wiping it as clean as he could on the bottom of the coat and using it to slice it and save them time.

The most bloodied of the mess was set aside, though even that might be useful later. The coat had taken a lot of the gore from the creature, but plenty of that had gotten the shirt underneath as well. When all was said and done, there was less clean shirt than he would have liked. He began wrapping with the cleanest bits, leaving that to touch the skin while the dirtier strips could cover over it. He bit his lip to keep from hissing every time he jerked a makeshift bandage the wrong way.

When he was satisfied that he'd done the best he could for now, which probably could have been better but he considered his wounds secondary, he moved to help Nate with his. "I'm more used to fighting than you are," the gargoyle smiled weakly. "This... isn't anything."

Near's efforts were slower than Brooklyn's, which likely wasn't something that would be any less true were they both healthy. But under these circumstances, where Near was physically spent and left with only the use of one arm, the observation was even more apparent. By the time Brooklyn moved to help him, Near had only just made a single strip out of the remains of his shirt. It was an unpleasant process, as he was forced to make a small cut, then hold the cloth in his mouth as he ripped a length of it free. If his injuries were any worse, the likelihood of his bleeding to death before he could prepare treatment would have been high.

"I thought we'd already established--" Near winced as Brooklyn began tying a strip around his injured arm, yet made no indication for the other man to stop. "--that I was denying you heroics." Yet the repeated joke was all Near would say on the matter. Anything they would accomplish from this point on would be due to willpower in place of physical prowess. To that end, there was no benefit to point out that simply due to extent, the probability of neither of them surviving the night had increased drastically against their favor. It was more important to finish making what he could from his shirt, and then to find the promised item; to force some measure of success in exchange for the heavy price both of them had already paid.

Brooklyn just snorted at that. When he thought he'd done as much as he could for now, the gargoyle stood on shaky legs and began searching over the room again now that there was nothing else to attack them.

A basic sweep with his eyes revealed nothing, so he slowly began making his way around the place. Television... coffee maker... nothing which would be of any real use to them here. There was a mini fridge, and he opened that to find a few beverages and some cheese and... something that didn't belong in a refrigerator at all. He picked it up, glancing it over. Was this what Nate had hoped to find here? Hopefully.

He grabbed a pitcher of juice as well, bringing both it and the weird tool back to Nate along with a couple disposable cups. They'd both lost blood, and while this wouldn't go far to fixing things it might help keep the mind clear.

Near watched Brooklyn as the other man searched, so much as he could in the darkness. The time at rest allowed his breathing to return to normal, and the pain of his body to come at him as the biological buffer caused by excitement and terror faded away. It hurt to move, more so than it hurt to not move, so Near stayed where he was, and looked over the monster, considering. He and Brooklyn both would do well to clean off the wounds; mouth and claws would hardly be sterile anyway, and the creature itself was in an advanced state of decay. Was that a side effect of whatever process had put it together?

Brooklyn returned after a brief period, and Near silently nodded when he was offered the item. He quickly identified it as a stun gun, the hand-held version that was highly effective, but required the target to be in arm's reach to use. He wouldn't complain, however, as that night had made it clear just how quickly the creatures of this place could get close.

Of course, Brooklyn had a claim to the item as well, a stronger one than Near did. Because he hadn't announced the find, Near assumed that the other didn't have knowledge of the item, or what it did. He held it up, thumb on the trigger. "This is called a stun gun, or a tazer. If you press the switch where my thumb is, it will release an electric charge." He did so, letting the sharp sound of crackling energy fill the room for a brief moment. "This is designed for use against humans, but it will likely be effective on most creatures. A single discharge is enough to temporarily stun most people, though it can be fatal if applied repeatedly in a brief window of time."

"It's yours if you want it. Of the two of us, you did the most work to earn it." Near knew that it was a valuable item in this place where weapons were in high demand. He also knew, from his personality type, that Brooklyn would likely refuse it. Near had been heavily injured, and Brooklyn's reactions indicated a level of guilt, one that perhaps had grown stronger since he'd treated Near's injuries. Regardless, if the man wanted the tazer, Near would give it to him. He was certain it wouldn't be wasted in Brooklyn's hands.

Near was right. Brooklyn shook his head immediately, busy pouring the boy a cup of juice with hands that weren't nearly still enough to be doing it. "I'm already armed," he said. "It will be of more use to you." After all, it didn't seem like something that required much physical force and weapons that relied on any sort of energy never sat well with the gargoyle. He was reminded of the odd guns Macbeth was fond of using.

He held the cup out, trying his best not to spill any of it. "Here."

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Night 36: Staff Lounge

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