damned_institute | Nightshift 38: M1- M10 Hallway

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Nightshift 38: M1- M10 Hallway

Dean had taken a nap after dinner, figuring that he might as well grab whatever rest he could before he took off trying to find supplies for a full-blown exorcism. His sleep was fitful, the hunter tossing and turning in the bed, eventually settling for sprawling face down in it with his arms flung around his pillow. When he woke up, Angel was gone. Dean rolled over to sit up, jaw set as he rubbed the sleep from one bleary eye, still breathing heavily. Cold Oak. Fucking Cold Oak. That was over and done with, yet he was still having nightmares about the goddamned place, as if enough wasn't enough that all of that was far behind him now. Reaching up, Dean took in a slightly shaking breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he told himself he wasn't gonna keep waking up in cold sweats feeling Sam's blood all over him, and, if he was, he would deal with it 'cause it was just a bunch of dreams. Wasn't real anymore. He'd saved Sammy.

When he stood up, he was ready to get on with the night. He'd find his little brother, no matter what, even if he had to get his information from that demon Punk-Ass and not by asking nicely.

Dean was even looking forward to it now.

Heading over to the closet, Dean opened it. His clothes hung there in the closet, all perfectly folded, just like it'd been this morning when he'd left it. Feeling under his jeans, his fingers closed around the bowie knife's hilt. Setting the knife aside, Dean began changing, shrugging out of his simple patient clothes and kicking them aside so he could put on his real clothes. The last things to go on were his boots and jacket, the weight of his pendent settling comfortably against his chest. Dean turned his attention to getting ready for the night. Flashlight? Check. Bowie? Check. And something to carry more than a handful of salt...Dean improvised, removing the pillow case from his pillow and balling it up so he could stuff it in his pocket.

Ready as he was ever gonna be. Aside from being bandaged up still, he was good.

Dean consulted the map he'd copied his first day here from the bulletin board. If he was gonna try to get hold of a rosary, it'd most likely be in Patient Possessions - someone here would've had to be a Bible-thumper who believed in God and all that stuff at some point, right? Salt, he figured the kitchen. As for something to deal with Punk-Ass, he figured he'd need some rope (or duct tape, if they didn't have any rope just lyin' around) and something to draw out the Key of Solomon. Not to mention water; kinda hard to make holy water when you had the holy but not the water. First thing was first though; he still had that meeting with that "R" chick - he thought it was a chick - in F-A hall for that spare flashlight.

The hunter turned on his flashlight and opened M2's door, stepping outside.

[To here]

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"I know you can't," Mello told Asch blandly. There was no criticism in his voice; he seemed to be doing nothing more than stating a fact. "You don't have a weapon, and I've seen skilled and armed swordsmen lose to these things." It wasn't true that he'd witnessed it, but he figured that the phrasing would be more convincing than saying he'd heard it secondhand. "And no, I'm waiting for people. The hospital keeps files that could help us figure out why they choose us, so we're going to grab some of them."

For a silent second, he sized up his roommate and then gave a small nod. "You can come if you want, or stick around with us until you meet another group. But going alone will get you killed, especially your first night." Mello was reminded of his idea to find a way to arm new patients. He still had a stash of scalpels, though, and those were better than nothing.

That was when the knock sounded. "Yeah, come in," he called, not rising from the bed although he leaned back comfortably, hopefully projecting the same casual confidence he'd shown at the earlier meeting.

Asch decided that he liked Mello less the more he heard him talk. That was generally his opinion of everyone, though, and he was stuck with the blond at least for a little while. He was skeptical about the entire situation, but there was some possible merit to what Mello had said.

He opened his mouth to say something that was undoubtedly harsh, but he was interrupted by the knocking. Maybe...that was for the better.

He moved away from the door to let the newcomers in. Mello seemed like he was expecting them, at least. And even though it galled him to admit it, there was some safety in numbers.

He decided not to reiterate the fact that he was already dead.

"Fine. I'll go with you."

ZEX gave Teisel an awkward attempt at a satisfied smile. There were few, if any, situations where ZEX would ever feel self-conscious, and this certainly did not qualify. Completely confident despite the awkwardness of his human body, ZEX opened the door and walked right in, glancing back at Teisel to see if he was following.

There were two humans here... well, Mello's invitation hadn't been exclusive. Which one was Mello? Well, he'd find out soon enough. ZEX rested a hand on the medals on his chest.

"Greetings." Attempting to mimic a human smile, and it didn't quite look natural. As always, he tried to keep his voice as friendly as possible to defuse possible hostility. It was difficult to remember that most of the humans here hadn't experienced the War, and would have no reason to resent him for it. "We spoke on the messageboard earlier about Max Vyer's file. I'm Admiral ZEX." He waved an arm in Teisel's direction. "I hope you don't mind that I brought a friend."

ZEX assumed that Teisel would prefer to introduce himself.

Teisel had been ready for one guy--he wasn't so sure about two. Whichever one of them was the guide (Teisel's money was on the shrimpy one, though neither of them were exactly big) might have had the same idea as the admiral. Well, if Admiral Zex wasn't bothered by it, then Teisel would just go with it. That didn't mean he wouldn't keep an eye on things.

At Zex's cue, he started to offer his hand, but thought better of it. "Teisel Bonne." He settled for a slight nod. No point in being overly friendly; Zex looked to be taking care of that part.

As Peter made his way down toward the end of the hall, keeping track of the sound of Sam's footsteps to make sure the man was following, he was somewhat surprised to see that the door of M3 was partly open. He moved in front of it and directed the beam of his flashlight inside, only to see that the room was already pretty crowded. It looked like this Mello guy was popular.

Not to mention one of the men who was standing was wearing something that was definitely not the regular uniform. Peter had seen a few patients in strange outfits wandering around, but it was a little different getting a glimpse up close.

He drew up to the doorway and then paused, moving to the side so that Sam could stand next to him if he wanted.

"Umm," he started, glancing into the room and trying to determine who Mello was. Probably the blond or the redhead, right? The other two looked like they had just arrived. "I was looking for Mello?"

Peter had said a patient, but it seemed the number had multiplied a bit into four somewhere down the line. One of whom was dressed a bit, uh. Different.

Sam hung a step back, though not far enough as to look out of place. Some kind of meeting? Sure looked like it. Whatever was happening, things weren't as chaotic as he might've imagined, nobody running around freaking out. Just people walking about and apparently congregating together. Somehow, he found that more unsettling than the alternative; panic and stuff, he was pretty used to that, but this was like -- everyone was almost way too well-adjusted for it to be normal.

Keeping his flashlight aimed lower to avoid blinding anyone (because that would be bad), he kept a casual eye on the group before him, completely ready with a disarming smile should someone happen to glance over in his direction. He wasn't looking to speak up and give out his name or something to this many people when he wasn't even sure who or what they were -- he was glad Peter hadn't bothered with formalities -- but he didn't want to raise suspicion on account of his silence, either. Experience had taught him that a polite and sincere smile was usually an effective solution to this. In the short term, at least, anyway. And if nothing else, he was good at handing them out.

"The more the merrier," Mello said to the man who introduced himself as Admiral Zex. It wasn't completely true; more bodies were better in the instance of an attack, but so many people could limit the progress they made, especially if they encountered conflict. "Asch'll be coming with us too," he said, indicating his roommate's presence with a jerk of his chin.

Asch seemed less and less friendly as time went on, which was both a good sign and a bad one. If pure arrogance ultimately led Asch to dismiss him, it was for the best--Mello's world could only accommodate so many egos. However, if it was intelligence that made him wary, he'd either be an enemy like Artemis or an ally like Renamon, Scar, and possibly Edgeworth. It was a risk he had no choice but to accept.

Then, there were more arrivals. Mello sized up the two patients quickly, then nodded. "I'm Mello." Although many now knew his room number, he only recalled one other person saying they'd stop by. "The file, right?" he asked, standing up and crouching beside his bed. Mello shoved his hand under the mattress and retrieved a stack of manila envelopes, which he quickly thumbed through before selecting one. It was nice to have use of both hands again. Though a plastic and velcro brace still encased his hand and part of his forearm, movement resulted in only an annoying twinge of pain. At least the institute had one useful quality.

He offered the file to the man who'd asked for it, not bothering with introductions either. The second patient had heard his name, and although Mello was in the business of making allies, he knew that efficiency and effectiveness spoke far louder than graciousness.

"You guys ready?" he asked the other three. "I've got scalpels if you're not armed."

Asch had to admit that while a scalpel wasn't exactly his weapon of choice, being armed with something was better than nothing. He hadn't expected this many people, and he was used to leading people more than following them. But he hadn't always been a high-ranking officer. He could probably deal with it for awhile.

He tried to appear more relaxed than he was - mostly because he tended to look stand-offish more than anything else. He had never quite mastered "friendly," but it wasn't like he needed friends. If it was really that difficult to get out of here, though, he'd at least need some sort of allies, and some sort of plan.

"I'll take one of those," he said to Mello, his tone even.

There, it was much better to be able to attach a name to a face. So the yellow-haired human was Mello... what interesting marks along his face. Perhaps he'd been attacked here once before, and still bore some scars from the experience? If those were scars, after all, and not some odd form of human coloration.

And then, more humans! Although it didn't seem like they'd be joining them tonight, if a file was all they wanted. ZEX quietly enjoyed the attention that was being paid to him for his outfit. It did make him wonder briefly why he was the only one who had so far been so lucky as to have it returned, but that wasn't important. What was important was looking over the two new humans who had arrived, and giving them... appropriate consideration. The one in the back seemed to smile at him when he gave him a look, so ZEX gave him an open leer in return. How better to communicate his interest for human relations...

It took a moment for ZEX to refocus on the conversation. He wasn't quite sure what a scalpel was, but there was no reason for anyone else to know that. He'd find out once he saw it, no doubt. "Ah yes, I think we both could use one." Whatever it was, it had to be more useful than the fork he'd managed to get. "I haven't focused much of my attention on weapons acquisition just yet. I find there are... other things to do at night that keep my interest," ZEX said, with an unconsciously lecherous grin. So many humans here! "But that's best left for later, I suppose."

Too many people! Teisel shifted a little closer to Zex to make room, fidgeting nervously. There was supposed to be one extra person, not four; how was a guy supposed to keep track of all this? The last two guys seemed to be heading on their own way again, but cripes...!

He nodded in agreement with Zex, figuring that keeping quiet was the best way to avoid any screw-ups for the moment, though it was easier said than done. The fork wasn't going to be very useful. Of course, the scalpels would probably break as soon as they had to use them, but at least they'd do some damage for the three seconds before they snapped in half.

So that was Mello. Peter waited as patiently as he could while the blond man went for the file, and it was only when he came over to hand it to him that Peter was able to see the scarring on his face. He did his best not to flinch at the sight of it - it had been unexpected, that was all - and instead took the file from him. He was curious about what had happened to the younger man (he looked barely past his teenage years, now that Peter could really see him), but now definitely wasn't the time to ask.

Especially with the sorts of comments that the man in the uniform was making, and the looks he was giving. His one look (with intentions that couldn't be mistaken) went right over Peter's shoulder, which meant that the stranger was directing it at Sam in particular. That probably wasn't the best way for the new arrival to be introduced to the patient population.

Either way, it looked like this group was getting ready to go themselves, so there would be nothing strange about making a quick getaway. After thanking Mello sincerely, Peter tucked the file under his arm and then turned toward his roommate.

"Ready to go?"

Did he just get—?

Never mind. Sam shifted. That was awkward. This little group did appear somewhat more eccentric compared to Peter, who—claims to having abilities aside—seemed pretty average. Someone he might've gone to college with, maybe, once upon a time.

Fortunately, Peter didn't seem inclined to hang around longer than necessary, and the brief encounter did at least give Sam a few more faces and another name to store away. He didn't have any use for them right now, but he'd learned not to disregard any tidbits of information, either.

"Sure."

[back here]

After hearing confirmation that the others needed weapons, Mello opened his closet door to search for the box of scalpels among his supplies. Once he directed the beam of his light into the dark space, though, his attention focused elsewhere.

Huh.

Matt had said last night that he'd found his clothing in his closet, but because he'd overslept, Mello hadn't had time to check his own and had subsequently forgotten about it while concentrating on L and Light's disappearances. Now, greeted with the familiar dark coat and leather vest and pants, he couldn't help but smile. The pockets were searched quickly--no gun, but his fingers closed around the smooth beads of his rosary. They were in a rush so he didn't have time to change, but he still yanked out the coat (better pockets) and boots (better kicking). As he slid his arms into the sleeves, the familiarity carried with it an unexpectedly strong sense of relief. Although Mello was far too smart to buy into Landel's lies, the letters he'd pulled from his own and Near's boxes still nagged him. The replication of his handwriting, angles and pressure so precise that even Near would have had trouble making such a convincing forgery. The physical presence of something that he knew to be true, knew to be his and not a toy Landel made up to fuck with his head, was appreciated. Not needed of course, but appreciated.

Those uniforms were ugly as fuck anyway.

He found the bag of supplies and pulled out one of the boxes of scalpels he'd taken on his second night. One each was passed to Zex and Teisel. "Blunt force works better on most of the mammals, so hang onto your flashlight too," he added as he gave a third to Asch.

He left the room with a glance behind to be sure he was being followed, then continued down the hall.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/547107.html?thread=45473827#t45473827)]

Edited 2009-01-31 09:54 (UTC)

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Nightshift 38: M1- M10 Hallway

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