damned_institute | Night 37: Main Hall, 2-East

Finally, they reached the second floor. Mitsuru paused to wait for Akihiko, shining her flashlight ahead of them. First hallway on the right, and there it was. "Not much further," she murmured, half to herself.

"Not much further at all," Akihiko remarked. He, too, felt something off in the air, as if there was something there that shouldn't be. "Let's make this quick," he added, turning down the hall.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/523934.html)]

Edited 2008-12-12 02:51 (UTC)

And once again, they were back in the hall that they'd come from. "And now straight down this wider hallway?" Mitsuru asked, looking back at Akihiko.

"Yeah, but let me doublecheck the maps." There was enough ambient light from the beam of her flashlight that it wasn't terribly hard to read them. Akihiko nodded a moment later. "Straight down the hallway, then it's the last hallway on the left."

He bounced on the balls of his feet just a moment - he'd loosened up earlier, but wanted to be sure he was ready for anything that might be ahead. A few last stretches and a punch at the air, and he was ready.

"Just say the word, and we'll go."

Mitsuru nodded at the confirmation, but her expression hardened when he began punching at the air again. "Akihiko, I thought I told you not to do that," she said sternly, trying not to snap at him. He'd done well up until this point, and she was proud that he'd been so serious about it. Then again, he was generally more serious whenever priority was given to rescuing someone and not just defeating enemies.

"Anything could happen between here and now," she reminded him, glancing down the hall. It sounded almost as if there was already a fight ahead of them, one they might not be able to avoid. "Let's go."

"Fine, fine..." Akihiko started to reply, but then saw a flash of familiar green light. "Come on."

[sweeping into action here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/515883.html?thread=42786603)]

Edited 2008-12-12 04:44 (UTC)

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/514976.html?thread=42754976#t42754976).]

Rude trained his torch ahead since he wasn't familiar with this route. Didn't want to risk any nasty surprises. Although he still wanted to find his nasty friend from before and kick it's ass.

Edited 2008-12-12 18:46 (UTC)

They'd gone through the area with the fight quick enough, but Matsuda felt kinda bad for not being able to stop and help. Still, it seemed like they had things under control, so he'd probably just screw it up.

After a moment of quietly listening, he cleared his throat. It was too quiet for him. "...Sounds like there might be some sort of fight up ahead, but there might also be something worth grabbing that way?" he suggested, looking back at Elena to see what she thought. Of course, he also sort of wanted to see if it was something he'd be able to help with, to make up for passing the other one by, but he didn't really need to mention that.

Hmm. Elena had never been up this way before. And even though part of her had really wanted to get involved with the problem, she didn't think Matsuda would like the detour as much, cute as he was.

She did, however, pull out her knife from it's secured hiding spot, in hopes that she'd find something else to use it on up here.

"Either way is fine by me," she admitted. "Rude's the one in such a hurry, so maybe he should pick."

Her eyes locked onto the other Turk in a way that said she still wasn't completely happy with tonight, but she was also trying to keep said feelings to herself at the same time.

[OOC: So very sorry for the wait, guys. -_-]

Rude stared right back at her. She knew she couldn't win a look of death contest, but...sweet of her to try. Some days it could even pass as cute.

"Doesn't concern us," he said, walking on. They only had to fight if it was their lives in danger. And he was certainly glad to see Elena was prepared.

It was tempting to go down the first hall he saw, but he was sure what he was after was a little further on. And, jeez, Elena made him sound so bossy. He was just trying to do something useful.

"This (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/525949.html?thread=43010685#t43010685) way."

[From here!]

It wasn't long until they reached the top of the stairs. Immediately, Anise noticed the sounds of a struggle to their left - the same place a fight had taken place the night before. Oh well! It was far enough that they wouldn't have to worry about it. They didn't have to go that way anyway. They were going...

...Which way were they going?

Tilting her head questioningly, she asked her partner, "Where should we go now? I've never been to this part of the institute before." If it became necessary, she could dig out her maps, but maybe Xelloss had an idea of where things were.

"Well, I've only been around a little." Xelloss answered honestly, pausing as well. He looked down the closest hallway, mostly because it was clear of any obvious fights for now. "I thought we'd just check doors. We just need metal; do you think it'll be that hard to find?"

Since he hadn't had any interest in a weapon made of metal, he hadn't really taken any notice of where people had suggested to hunt for it, aside from the, in retrospect, vague suggestions of 'upstairs' and 'bathrooms.' Leaning slightly against a wall for a moment, he added, "If you know which rooms store what, it might go more quickly." And all the rooms couldn't be storage, of course.

Anise nodded at Xelloss' reasoning. "Right... just a second." The girl knelt on the floor, set down her pipe to get it out of the way for the moment, then reached over her shoulder and plucked the big yellow doll from her back. Since getting it back, Tokunaga had been serving as little more than a cute accessory, but the little sack on its back was handy to have around. Reaching into it, Anise retrieved the incomplete map of the second floor. She then placed the doll back where it was and stood, moving a little closer to Xelloss so she could use some of his light to read.

"I don't have everything filled in, but..." The girl traced a finger from their hallway to one of the nearby ones. "There are a lot of storage rooms down this hall. I guess the general storage and the janitor's closet would be our best bets." Even though the patient possessions and the main files sounded way more interesting. Or those mysterious locked rooms! Having an assignment to focus on was pretty lame sometimes.

Xelloss had leaned forward helpfully with the light when she pulled out the map. He had a set of his own, but they were back in his room; well, he'd remember that for next time. And it was nice for a team to have a balance of resources, anyway, it made it harder for one member to abandon the other. Well, theoretically, anyway.

Looking over the map, he'd have snapped his fingers if he'd had a free hand. "Actually, I have been up here once before! I believe I went into the janitor's closet. They have flashlights there; we should get you one, then we'll have a set!"

The fact that people were posting constantly on the board either asking for or offering flashlights was beside the point, since it didn't seem to have changed Anise's situation. Or maybe she'd just left hers behind, the way Xelloss had left behind the map.

Leaning back, he gestured to the hallway they faced. "Since those rooms are all this way, it doesn't seem that we have any choice in direction for now!"

[to here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/525949.html?thread=42869885#t42869885)

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/529481.html?thread=43108425#t43108425)]

Kvothe looked around as he followed Clark out of the stairwell, shining his flashlight to see what was up there. A large hallway like the one below them, a cross hallway lined with doors, another up ahead. He couldn't really tell beyond that, the beam of the light didn't reach any farther. Even if there wasn't a working phone, they were bound to find something useful up here. "Well, where should we try first?"

Clark paused, looking around. He kept his voice down, feeling antsy and exposed. "I think that way overlooks the sun room," he replied, keeping his voice to a whisper. "And around the balcony is the Chapel..." Clark trailed off, remembering the last time he'd been in there. "Anyway, other than that, I haven't really been up here too much."

[Waiting for Brainy, I think?]

Brainiac 5 leaned heavily against the wall, relying on it more and more to keep him upright as well as guide him in the darkness. He barely felt the pain from his injuries any more, only the thin smear of blood on the wall from his shoulder reminding him of how damaged his body had to be. It was ironic really. He was one of the greatest minds of his time, had helped save planets and even the whole galaxy once, and he was going to die trapped in a body not his own in a Earth facility in the past. All because Grell was insane enough to attempt murder to support his delusions.

No, he couldn't think like that. He wouldn't allow himself to die so... pathetically. He was better than that.

He must have been more affected by the blood loss than he'd thought, because he noticed the two people in the hallway almost too late. He jerked away from the wall, trying to avoid being caught in the light and all too aware after his recent experiences that he couldn't afford to trust anyone in his injured state, but his foot caught and he stumbled and went down. He landed hard on his left side, jolting the scalpel still lodged in his shoulder and his vision blacked out for a moment as the blade scraped bone and he made a strangled half-gasp, half-scream. That seemed to finish him, he was simply too tired and exhausted to force himself up again and Brainiac 5 could only lay there breathing heavily and making faint whimpers of pain.

Kvothe's head whipped around at the scream, his flashlight searching for a moment before it landed on the figure on the floor. He shot a startled look at Clark before running over to the fallen man, it didn't take long to see why he was in such bad shape, he winced at the scalpel deep in the shoulder and held up the pillowcase he was using as a bag so Clark could see it. "Clark, tear me off some of this, quick." He knew that removing the blade could cause the wound to bleed more freely, but from the looks of things leaving it in would only cause more damage.

Clark dropped down on his knees next to Kvothe. It wasn't until he got that close that he recognize Brainy underneath the blood. Clark didn't quite go green, but he did stiffen, even as he numbly took the pillowcase. Without even paying attention to it, he easily tore it into strips as if it was tissue paper, handing it back to the other patient, too distracted by the boy on the floor to try to make up an excuse.

The farmboy leaned over Brainy, concerned. He could see something stuck in his shoulder - a scalpel? - and there seemed to be other injuries as well. He couldn't tell immediately off the bat if there was anything broken. His x-ray vision was as unreliable as all his other powers but he thought it was probably the least dangerous to try using right now: Clark tried to focus like always, but it burned his eyes and the first thing he saw was right through Brainy to the floor, getting a good look of its insides before he tried to center on the alien kid. He wasn't sure if his anatomy would be different but when he did manage to get a look at him, he saw glowing blue bones, moving weakly as Brainy did.

Clark's eyes were reddened and starting to water as he leaned back. Nothing broken he could see, although the scalpel was imbedded pretty deep. He wiped at his eyes as he glanced at Kvothe.

"We should take that out, shouldn't we?" Clark wasn't entirely sure. It wasn't like he knew how to treat injuries. All he knew was that had to hurt and he had to save Brainy...but he knew he couldn't do it alone.

He must have blacked out briefly from the pain, because next thing he knew the two people he'd almost run into were standing over him, looking concerned. Automatically he tried to move, but his body was too tired and drained to respond much to his frantic, instinctive attempts to get away; his right hand only pushing weakly at the red-haired man's arm and leaving bloody marks there. "N-no..." he managed. While the stranger seemed concerned, like he had Brainiac 5's best interests in mind, Grell had also seemed harmless and non-threatening and right now he couldn't afford to be taken by surprise like that again.

But he was just too weak to get away or do anything more than lie there, panting and dripping blood, hoping that his fears were unfounded.

A tearing noise drew his attention to the second person, who was shredding a pillow case into pieces as if it were paper without a second thought. If anything that made him even more nervous, until he looked up into a familiar face and concerned gaze. Clark. The one person he knew he could completely trust right now. Brainiac 5 immediately relaxed, his struggles ceasing though he still flinched and hissed at the pain from his wounds. He must have looked a mess in the light, he realised. Dark bloody stains from both shoulders, his right hand also bleeding from where Grell had stabbed him, the blood he could still feel spreading slowly from his back... But the worst was the shallow cut on his cheek and the traces on his face that he had been crying. Was finding he had to fight not to break down and do so again. He wouldn't allow himself to be so pathetic and weak in front of Clark. He could already imagine what the hero must have thought of him now, unable to apparently defend himself from others at all. "I'm sorry, Clark," he hissed, teeth clenched through the pain. "I should have... been more... careful."

He knew Clark, Kvothe winced a little as he realized. He took the fabric strips from Clark and gathered them into thick pads, one he pressed over the wound on the shoulder that didn't still have a blade stuck in it. "Just relax," he said soothingly to the man on the floor. "I need you to hold as still as you can so that we can take the scalpel out of your back before it causes any more damage.

Then he looked back up at Clark. "Yeah, it needs to come out, and the wounds need cleaned and stitched before he loses much more blood. I can do it if we can find the tools."

Why was Brainy apologizing? Clark wondered if this was a Coluan thing or if Brainy seriously thought this was his fault.

"It's not your fault," Clark insisted. He didn't think Brainy started the fight - whoever or whatever had stabbed him with the scalpel had. Somehow he felt he should try to make him relax and let him know he was safe, even though he had no idea what they were going to do next. "Don't worry, we'll look after you. You're safe with us."

Clark's hands hovered over Brainy: it wouldn't be hard, he thought, to just pull out the scalpel himself, but what about the stitches? They didn't have anything for stitches: he hadn't needed any himself before, but his dad had gotten hurt plenty of times on the farm and had. Clark thought furiously, trying to keep his cool like he had all those times in Smallville. Clark would have to trust Kvothe, but realistically, without his speed, he couldn't just zip around until he happened to find some supplies for him. And they couldn't sit here out in the middle of the hall either.

"I think there's a patient-run clinic downstairs," Clark said. He paused. He wasn't so sure if the next option was the best idea, but it was the closest. But the other people on the bulletin board had said that there was some kind of trade-off, even though he hadn't seen anything wrong his one time there. "I know for sure the Chapel has some way of healing people and it's pretty close," he added, glancing at Kvothe and then back at Brainy, eyebrows furrowed in worry. "It healed me once, it should do the same for him."

The sudden pressure on his shoulder hurt, as much as he knew it was necessary. Brainiac 5 couldn't help but flinch away from it gasping as the inadvertent movement caused the scalpel lodged in his other shoulder to scrape up against bone again. An itching wetness made him realise his eyes were tearing up again despite his efforts to control himself, but there wasn't much he could do about it with the red-haired stranger holding his right arm still. Instead he just directed his gaze away from Clark, clearly not wanting the other to see how upset he was.

"I should have... been more careful," he insisted despite the pain. "I shouldn't have been so... naive to trust him." Of course ideally he wouldn't have trusted this other stranger either but Clark seemed to know him, and he did seem to be trying to help more than anything else. Not to mention Clark was close by in case anything did go wrong, which was also reassuring.

"I'll try..." he answered the other man, "just... get it over with." He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth against the pain from his protesting body and against the pain that was coming. The comment about supplies and medical tools got a wry smile and sudden burst of laughter though, disrupting his concentration. If any of the Legion had been around that would have only made them more worried, as it had been a long-standing joke that Brainiac 5 never laughed unless there was something deeply wrong with him.

"I know where there are supplies," he panted, suddenly breathless after his laughter faded. "However, I think most of them are covered in blood now."

"There is a clinic," he said to Clark, "in M35 I think, my roommate's there helping out. But I don't think we should try to move him that far. We can try the Chapel, but I'd rather get him at least bandaged first."

Then he turned back to the injured man. "That's good, we can make do long enough to get you to see if the chapel helps. I'm sure there will be something useful, if you can tell us where they are. I'm going to take this out now, so stay as still as you can. I'll pull it on three," he says, taking a firm grip on the scalpel. "One, two, three." He pulls it straight out with one strong pull, then presses another pad of fabric over the wound to staunch the blood.

Clark sighed. It wasn't wrong to trust people, was it? Sure, he shouldn't be one to talk, considering his family secrets, but the point was that it wasn't wrong to trust someone when you met them. You just had to be careful what to trust them with; not everyone you met was going to stab you with scalpels and Clark thought it was terribly unfair of Brainy to think he could have anticipated that. He still wasn't sure what to do, except keep Brainy company for now: Kvothe seemed to know what to do, taking charge of the situation. Clark tried not to stare too much at Brainy's injury, at all that blood, and tried instead to force himself to pay attention to what Kvothe was doing.

Taking care of a normal human would be useful. He couldn't keep relying on his own powers to save people. Seeing Kvothe take hold of the scalpel, Clark hurriedly put a hand on Brainy to keep him from moving too much: if it hurt as much coming out as it had to have coming in, Brainy might struggle and hurt himself even more.

"It's okay, Brainy," Clark said. He just hoped the Chapel would be able to heal him too. He kept talking to try to distract Brainy from what Kvothe was about to do. "Do you remember where they are?"

Clark and the stranger were talking something about a clinic, which he supposed he should have been more interested in but it was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate on what was going on around him. Now that he'd stopped forcing himself to keep moving, had stopped being afraid of talking to others because of how Grell had scared him, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and sleep - really sleep, rather than the powered down but still constantly working rest of his species. His eyes drifted closed almost of their own accord and he slumped back against the wall despite the pain from his wounds. He was most likely succumbing to the blood loss, he realised distantly. He needed to make an effort to stay awake but it was just... too much right now.

Clark was talking to him, so Brainiac 5 forced himself to concentrate on what he was saying, even managing to open his eyes a bit. "I... believe so..." He licked his lips, wishing there was something to drink on hand while another part of his mind noted with detached interest the symptoms of shock and blood loss. "It should be easy to follow back though," he said with another faintly hysterical giggle. "I've probably left a trail..." His eyes flicked to the blood stains on his shirt and hands, and he was vaguely surprised to see how much there actually was. It must have been a small miracle of sorts for him to have even made it this far.

But then Clark was leaning forward to gently take hold of him and before Brainiac 5 had a chance to wonder what he was doing, the other man was saying something about 'on three' and taking a hold of the scalpel lodged in his left shoulder. The pressure alone was enough to make him flinch and tense up and then the man suddenly pulled. Intellectually Brainiac 5 knew the scalpel needed to be removed and the injury treated, but that didn't stop him from shrieking at the sudden, white-hot pain that lanced through him and instinctively struggling weakly against Clark's hands. But he was too drained to fight for long, collapsing back down and gulping for air with shuddering breaths. His right hand was clutching at Clark's shirt, he realised, and was leaving bloody marks there from where Grell had stabbed him with another scalpel. "...sorry," he whispered, but couldn't seem to convince the hand to unclench.

Kvothe doesn't really react to the scream but he bit his lower lip worriedly, the man looked like he was fading fast. Not knowing where the supplies were he wasn't sure how quickly he could find them, and with so much about this place being unfamiliar to him... He knew that if he had the right supplies he could treat and stitch the wounds properly, but he couldn't do much about the blood loss. He definitely needed more help than Kvothe could give him alone. It's not a hard decision to make. He looked up at Clark very seriously before turning his attention to using the remaining fabric strips to wrap bandage him as best he can. He's not entirely convinced that the Chapel will help, but if Clark's had experience with it, it's worth a try. "How quickly can you get him to the Chapel?"

"A minute, maybe two minutes," Clark said truthfully. He would've said right now normally, if he had his powers, but his speed was as unreliable as anything else. He did know he could probably carry Brainy and that the Chapel was pretty much around the bend. "It's close, around the corner from here if I follow the balcony."

Clark turned to Brainy, glancing down in worry at the hand clutching his shirt. Right now he thought Brainy looked like a scared kid, normal, and not at all like some amazing alien. He hesitated for a second and then laid a hand over Brainy's, trying to comfort him, before he bent down to try to pick him up.

"This'll probably hurt," Clark tried to warn him. He tried to be gentle picking him up: maybe some of his strength was back, because Brainy seemed to weigh nothing to him in the same way that bench-pressing his Dad's tractors used to feel like.

Much of the conversation between Clark and the stranger passed over his head, though the word 'chapel' drew his attention. They seemed intent on getting him there, and it took Brainiac 5 some moments of dredging through his knowledge of Earth in the 21st century to place what the word meant exactly. A small place of worship for various religions, not a place for caring for injuries at all. But why would they take him there unless...

Clark's hand pressed over his, distracting him and making him force his eyes open (when had they closed again? He couldn't remember and that should have concerned him more than it did) and look up at the Kryptonian. He managed a nod in response to the warning. "I trust you," he said simply, too exhausted and hurt to worry about if that was the right thing to say. It didn't seem to matter much now, as then Clark's arms were under him and lifting him effortlessly with the same amazing strength he remembered Superman possessing. The warning wasn't in vain however, as despite how careful Clark tried to be he couldn't avoid jolting Brainiac 5's damaged shoulders and back. Try as he might, Brainiac 5 couldn't keep down the sob of pain the movement caused and he clutched tightly at Clark's shirt again, wishing this would just be over but knowing that the end was far from close.

The end... The chapel they were taking him to. But why would they want to take him there? Unless... a surge of fear helped him keep his eyes open and his mind slightly more focussed than it had been so far and he flicked his gaze over Clark and the stranger. "Clark... I'm not..." He licked his lips again and swallowed hard. "I won't... let this finish me." He smiled, albeit weakly and added, "I've survived worse."

"You're going to be fine," Kvothe assured him, though he wasn't sure he felt it. The poor guy looked terrified. He turned away to gather up the last bits of fabric scraps from the pillowcase and the small odds and ends he'd had inside it, then picked up the scalpel as well. If they ran into anything unfriendly he'd probably need it. Then he looked back up at Clark. "Go, then, quickly. Don't worry about me keeping up, I'll manage."

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/515883.html?thread=43388459#t43388459)]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/515883.html?view=43155499#t43155499)]

Having rushed through the central part of the hallway, Indy slowed up once they'd made it past the site of the conflict. Things looked quiet here, and he had to double-check the map before they got any farther.

"Almost there," he muttered to Pierson once he'd consulted it. "The main file storage room is off the next hallway."

"Let's hope we've had our excitement for the night, then," Methos whispered back. He looked back over his shoulder, eyes squinting against the darkness to check for any sign of trouble still lingering in the corridor behind. To check for any new trouble approaching, for that matter, either brought by other patients or by the guards that still seemed conspicuously absent.

"And that the door's not too securely locked." It was an afterthought, and he grimaced in distaste as he shared it. Something to pick locks with. He added it to the slowly expanding tally of supplies he'd need if he were to find a way out.

In general, Indy's theory was that you didn't need lockpicking tools when you had two perfectly good shoulders, but he could appreciate the reduction in bruises a little finesse could lend. Pierson didn't look like the door-smashing type, at any rate.

"Just hope we actually find something useful after this leisurely stroll," he replied. Honestly, the trek had been easier than what he was used to--no spiders, no scorpions, no careening boulders; a cakewalk, really--but the payoff might be a lot smaller, too.

Well, he'd know pretty soon, either way. Indy pressed on.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/525949.html?thread=43170941#t43170941)]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/515883.html?thread=43164459#t43164459)]

This part of the hallway seemed rather empty, almost unnervingly so after the amount of traffic they'd passed so far. Apparently this end of the building wasn't quite so popular. Or perhaps people just hadn't made it this far - even though Ayumu knew they'd delayed for a while downstairs and then hadn't exactly been moving that fast on the way up.

Though it had been Mello himself who'd been discussing on the board about the odd nature of time in this place. It was like the mention of monsters that she'd accepted and now entirely believed; it seemed he was telling the truth. Ayumu would have to pay some attention to that now and in the future.

She kept her light off for now, though, until someone told her to turn it back on. It wasn't as though darkness was entirely unfamiliar to her, and supposedly being scared it gave her the pretext to reach out and rest a hand on Robin's arm - just lightly, as though making sure she didn't get lost.

Matt gave a bit of a start at the feeling of Sen's hand on his arm. He didn't jump, but he very obviously tensed. She shouldn't rely on him for anything. He couldn't actually do much to protect her.

He found himself taking a mental re-evaluation of things, though. Surely he'd be able to at least give her enough time to run to safety... if any place here really could be considered safe...

Night 37: Main Hall, 2-East

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