damned_institute | NIGHTSHIFT 37: M41-50 HALLWAY

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NIGHTSHIFT 37: M41-50 HALLWAY

A click and the dry crackle of static was all it took to get Depth Charge on his feet. I’m coming for you, X. Checking his equipment and maps one last time he switched the flashlight on and opened the door.

The hallway was darker than it had been when he last entered it, and Depth Charge found himself hovering uncertainly by the door until his optics became accustomed to the shadows- a fact that immediately riled him up more than it should have done, since his usual optics sensors would have adjusted themselves instantaneously. As it was, it served as yet another reminder of how fragile this body was. Almost completely reliant on the light of his flashlight, he’d have to be vigilant if he wanted to keep himself in one piece.

Barely a klik later and he was off again, sizing up his options; according to his map, on his left was a dead end and on his right a door. Not the most difficult decision he’d ever faced. He turned right and paced purposely towards the end of the corridor and the next hallway, keeping one suspicious eye fixed on the doors he passed by.

[to here]

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The announcements were unusual, if only because it wasn't Martin Landel's voice delivering them. Still, that didn't make the woman's words any less disconcerting. But there wasn't much time to sit and dwell on those things -- they had more immediate matters to focus on. As soon as the door unlocked, Obi-Wan opened it, a knife in one hand, and his flashlight in the other.

He glanced towards Schuldig. "Is there anyone you need to find, or are we heading straight to the second floor?"

As to what finally roused Uryuu from his unplanned and truly uncanny slumber, he could not have later said.

What he knew in this moment was only this moment, the suddenness of jerking upright, of clawing blindly at sheets and covers as if they were binding, of breathing in rapid staccato gasps, of his hands pushing at the cloth and simultaneously groping at his abdomen, fingertips scraping over the unfamiliar fabric of his shirt, attempting to soothe the internal wound that no longer existed.

His breathing continued in the dark. His eyes moved, unfocused, squinting, blind. They adjusted to the dark, but would need more than that to get by. Before he could think, he felt around him for his spectacles. Once in position, pushed along the bridge of his nose, Uryuu tried to set his mind against this.

Hueco Mundo? The Octava? Too much worked against it, how real the bed was, how nothing had after all bound him, the utterly different and absolutely weaker concentration of spirit particles, and the clothing in which he found himself. But if not Hueco Mundo, then what? Uryuu had visited "heaven" - this was not it. As he moved to pinch himself, he felt the cool slide of metal on his wrist; his bracelet, his pendant, his pride.

Though he would never have admitted to a certain perplexed anxiety, that nonexistent plague began to fade as his fingers brushed, in brief, the pendant.

Without any other way to make sense of it, he denounced it an uncanny dream, denying a sinking certainty that it was anything but for the sake of productivity, and climbed of out bed. He had little other choice, and began a search of the room.

Fifteen minutes later, flashlight in hand and a pillowcase thrown over his shoulder, Uryuu peered at the open door. It had proved impossible to actually fit everything in the only thing close to a sack that he had managed to produce, but if it was in the dream, he was disinclined to leave it behind. Perhaps it was a game of a dream, where three pens would open a later door, where he would trade a sweatshirt for a key - if nothing else made sense, at least he could comfort himself with this excess.

He tried the radio. He opened the journal and quickly penned down a note, all the while resisting the maddening thought that all of it was too real. And after stuffing an extra pair of slippers, one sweat shirt, a set of batteries, a key ring, the radio, the journal, and fifteen pens into the pillowcase, he clicked on the flashlight and moved out of the room.

Calling out, Uryuu thought, would be a pretty stupid idea. If this was a dream (and it certainly had to be), it didn't look like it would be a very good one - he had never liked hospitals, and even in the dark, he could recognize that a hospital was precisely what this was.

Regardless, he had little choice but to move, and so he did, following the pale light down the hallway.

Edited 2008-12-09 09:49 (UTC)

For a weird magic prison, Yahiko thought, this place really didn't seem so bad. They gave him good food, even if he had no idea what it was, and the people who led him around seemed nice enough. Still, Sanosuke wouldn't exaggerate unless it was about something really stupid, so when he left his room gripping the thing Kenshin called a flashlight, he listened carefully for anything that might sound like a monster.

His dinner passed by quietly enough, though he hadn't really expected to hear that mysterious woman's voice over the intercom. Her words were strange, just like all the other riddles hiding in every shadow here. There wasn't much for him to do except stick with his plans for tonight.

Fortunately, it didn't take Claude long to get dressed in most of his Federation attire. After grabbing his flashlight and the bulging pillowcase of metal, he paused long enough to glance over the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He knew Ashton's sword was still resting beneath his mattress, but whether his friend would finally come claim it tonight remained to be seen.

But he had places to go and people to meet for now. He would deal with whatever the morning brought to him when the time came. Sighing to himself, he pushed the door open and stepped out into the hallway.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/516608.html?thread=42549248#t42549248).))

Edited 2008-12-09 22:01 (UTC)

Leon finished his dinner and stretched out on his bed. He laid there for quite a while, staring at the ceiling, focusing on his breathing.

Nothing.

He felt fine. No fever, not sick at all. It was like the virus was gone. He knew it wasn't, but... maybe it went dormant?

That meant that he had to search tonight, make the most of this time. Leon had no idea how often the virus reappeared, or how advanced it might be when it did so. A weapon would be good... maybe some other items to add to his collection of medicines, too. Leon quickly dressed, irrationally pleased about his new/old clothing. Even though he thought it was kind of mean to include an empty holster.

He collected his flashlight and trusty baseball bat, then flipped through his journal, trying to recall where things were. He knew he needed to get up to the second floor, if nothing else. And tonight was M-U again, so no patients in the halls to avoid. Just the normal monsters.

With something of a plan in mind, Leon headed out into the night.

[Jumping up to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/524456.html)]

Well, Depth Charge was certainly an interesting guy, but he was out as soon as the intercom went off. Then again, Matsuda was in a bit of a hurry, himself, so he couldn't really blame him. After grabbing his flashlight, he was out the door, headed down the hall.

Edited 2008-12-10 23:45 (UTC)

Yohji took longer to get ready than Leon, taking the time to have slow cigarette and relax as much as he could under the circumstances. He hoped that Leon would be okay. He'd seemed well enough over dinner, but Yohji couldn't forget what he'd said about the experiment that had been inflicted upon him. He checked the desk drawer to make sure that the tranquilisers were still there. And Schwartz possibly had a mission involving him. It was worrying to say the least.

Content that he had everything, he slipped out into the corridor.

Haku stood silently in his room for quite some time, stock still, head bowed, and waiting just like he'd been trained for his Master. After ten minutes, he began to pace. Fifteen minutes, he began to run his hands through the various forms in an effort to calm himself down.

Sixteen minutes later, he screamed in frustration and gathered up his weapons, remaining medical supplies, and left. He would deal with the repercussions for this later.

God help anyone that tried to stop him tonight...

(going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/522327.html?view=43001943#t43001943))

There had been no sign of his roommate during dinner, and Chopper had been too preoccupied to notice a different boy sleeping in the room's other bed. He had finished his dinner quickly, and then set to work separating out the medical supplies he might need tonight from the ones he either didn't need or still was unsure about. If he'd still had his pack, he might have carried them along anyway, but he didn't want to risk either losing or breaking something that could end up being really important.

He set out once his supplied were ready, using a pillowcase as a makeshift bag. By now, Chopper knew the way to the clinic's hall very well, since it was the same hall as Luffy's and Usopp's rooms.

He set forth, hoping he could be of some assistance.

A rather dramatic dinner, all in all, and after, a present. Vlad didn't hesitate in taking the notebook from Qui-Gon's desk, although he did take the precaution of removing one of the coat from his closet and tucking the notebook inside.

It was only after serious thought that he transformed, and after giving a little time so the hallway could be nicely cleared for the evening. Vlad's reasoning behind the change, aside from the fact that the coat at least added some bulk to the outfit and made him look faintly less absurd than in the t-shirt, was that it was after all a special evening, having been given a nice present, and he really ought to at least try to accomplish something. It was hard to keep scolding Daniel when he spent his own evenings idly... well, not hard, but Daniel might eventually comment on it.

Despite the change, he brought the usual flashlight and pipe with him. After a glance down the hallway, he hurried off. Where to? His roommate's plans were a bit grandiose, but his own ambitions were for the moment small. Just see a little something new, perhaps.

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