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damned_institute2008-11-24 12:40 pm
pleading-ngri.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2008-11-24 12:40 pm
Entry tags:
- aidou,
- allelujah,
- badou,
- batman,
- brook,
- captain america,
- claude,
- demyx,
- eddie brock,
- fai,
- forte,
- guy,
- harry osborn,
- homura,
- hughes,
- itachi,
- kaiji,
- kenshin,
- kristoph,
- kurogane,
- luxord,
- matsuda,
- mello,
- mikami,
- near,
- peter petrelli,
- phoenix,
- rude,
- sanosuke,
- sanzo,
- scar (tlk),
- schuldig,
- siegfried,
- teisel,
- the flash,
- tokito,
- tony stark,
- tyki,
- valyn,
- xellos,
- xigbar,
- yohji,
- yue,
- zelnick,
- zex
Day 37: Men's Showers
I wouldn't really call this a locker room. More like a bathroom with lockers. The place was uncomfortably crowded, with almost every adult male patient being hustled into the showers at once, but Phoenix wasn't as annoyed by the claustrophobic, milling throng of bodies as he might have otherwise been. Every extra person was one more person who might end up standing between himself and Edgeworth.
He knew that the prosecutor would have a fit if he found out about this. He'd known since he'd tacked that first response up on the bulletin board. And in a way, he couldn't blame him. Phoenix knew that he jumped into things all-or-nothing more often than most people. At the same time, he had some kind of reality testing. He wasn't going to learn the basics of how to defend himself and suddenly decide that he was Rambo.
He found an unoccupied locker in the southwest corner and glanced around, trying to gauge how long he could possibly stall in a locker room, looking as if he was expecting something, before people started looking at him strangely. It would have been easier if he'd known something of the description of the man he was supposed to be meeting. As it was, all he had was handwriting and a military rank, neither of which guaranteed any particular appearance.
It's not as if there was a better way to plan this, though. "Yeah, meet me by the lockers. I'll be wearing gray and a smiley face, just like about a hundred other guys."
[for Hughes]
He knew that the prosecutor would have a fit if he found out about this. He'd known since he'd tacked that first response up on the bulletin board. And in a way, he couldn't blame him. Phoenix knew that he jumped into things all-or-nothing more often than most people. At the same time, he had some kind of reality testing. He wasn't going to learn the basics of how to defend himself and suddenly decide that he was Rambo.
He found an unoccupied locker in the southwest corner and glanced around, trying to gauge how long he could possibly stall in a locker room, looking as if he was expecting something, before people started looking at him strangely. It would have been easier if he'd known something of the description of the man he was supposed to be meeting. As it was, all he had was handwriting and a military rank, neither of which guaranteed any particular appearance.
It's not as if there was a better way to plan this, though. "Yeah, meet me by the lockers. I'll be wearing gray and a smiley face, just like about a hundred other guys."
[for Hughes]
no subject
Aidou wanted scalding hot water and the chance to wash, but he didn't want to be another public spectacle, when the shower room was nothing more than a cesspool of nudity, mixed company, and chitchat. It galled him.
And at the same time, the noble cared less about it than ever before.
Even as he stripped down, all without the aide of a nurse, and carefully knotted a towel around his waist, Aidou knew the color had come back to his cheeks, if only because of the cloying steam, which made the effort of breathing even more taxing. Every move he made in pulling off the uniform top felt like he was being stabbed all over again--with a proper anti-vampire weapon.
The conversation with Sasuke was no indicator of the true depth to his thoughts. He hadn't for a moment forgotten how, exactly, he'd come to be in this state, and the memory of that little hag spelling him to sleep repeated over and over in his mind. Not only had she used her magic on him, but she'd finished her assault in so cowardly a way. The hunters were more forthright than she had been. At the same time, she didn't have the means to kill him as a hunter would. If her sword had been anything but normal, Aidou would have shown the injury more concern than he had. And now that the night had past, he just had to outlast the pain and let his body heal.
He moved straight for the most secluded corner of the room, giving the room his back as he positioned himself on a stool. At the very least, he could wash the lingering smell of blood away, so that it'd stop aggravating his senses. Before that, though... The bandages wouldn't last under a proper shower, of course, but considering how little say he had in how the staff "tended" to wounds, he wanted to see how ugly the wound still seemed. Worse in look and severity than a normal human could stand, he figured, though the lung was no longer deflated and by the constant tickling sensation, was trying to heal as quickly as possible.
An injury like this should have been healed within an hour. Clenching his jaw once in frustration, he pulled back the last of the dressings.