damned_institute | Nightshift 39: Basement, West Hall

((From here.))

As Claude waited for the others to get inside, he glanced further down the hallway. He didn't hear or see anything up ahead, but that didn't necessarily mean much. Interestingly, there seemed to be lit candles, sort of like the ones in the previous room, along the stone walls. It was nice to be able to see without having to rely on a flashlight for a change.

But the view wasn't necessarily a comforting one. The tapestries, with their depictions of violence and war, were a strange choice in decor. "I'm not sure what's beyond here, but we should stick together and be careful," he spoke up, perhaps unnecessarily. Still, it felt nice to hear someone say something in such an eerie place, even if it was just his own voice.

It was at that moment he let go of the door. The click of the lock shutting behind them echoed down the dimly lit hallway, and Claude wasn't sure what was creepier -- the sound itself, or the fact that they might not have such an easy time getting out if they needed to escape.

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While Guy was sure the basement had all sorts of dangers lurking in it, the fact that it was well-lit did make it more bearable, in a way. Granted, the architecture and the decorations made it feel like this was a place that could be haunted, though Guy knew that sort of thing was silly when it came down it. Either way, he clicked off his flashlight, knowing quite well that he shouldn't waste the battery power.

He nodded at what Claude had to say, but was distracted by the new area. He moved toward the wall, running his hand over the stone. It was very solid, and while it seemed old to him, Guy really couldn't make a guess at when this place had been built. He would have had a better chance of determining something like that if he was still back on Auldrant.

Moving forward, he scanned the images, wondering what meaning they might hold. There were soldiers engaged in battles, though the uniforms were different from what he was used to, and there weren't any swords in sight. Either way, the pictures didn't seem to fit in with the torches and the ancient feel that this area had.

"This has to be some sort of clue," he murmured under his breath.

Dias didn't have much time to take in the details of the hallway before he heard the sound of the door locking behind them, and that little sound promptly drew all of his attention. He immediately turned on his heel to try the door, without much real hope, but it was no good.

Clearly someone didn't want them able to go back. While no threat had presented itself, which Dias had first suspected to the point of their being sealed in to begin with, his first instinct was that anything that the institute (or, by logical extension, the head doctor) had set up was by definition not in their best interests, and to attempt to circumvent such things by any means possible or necessary.

"From now on," he said flatly, "we leave the doors open behind us. We'll wedge them open, if we have to." He didn't plan on letting them be herded along like mice in a maze if there was any way around it, because if this door had locked behind them, he suspected all of them would. Even as he spoke, he scanned the tapestries lining the halls; unlike Guy, his interest was far less towards the thoughtful and more towards the practical. Cut down and rolled up, one could likely hold the next door open, unless Landel had anticipated that in some way...which was entirely possible, although that wouldn't stop Dias from making the attempt.

Claude wasn't an archaeologist, so he couldn't tell how old the tapestries were in comparison to the scenes portrayed on them. Maybe it was artwork taken from the distant future? It wasn't like Landel couldn't mess with time all he wanted anyway. Or maybe someone had it commissioned them to look old, but that seemed like a strange thing to do.

Not that the basement's set-up wasn't strange to begin with.

"You think so?" he asked Guy curiously. "I mean, this sort of looks like a war scene you'd see in the 20th century, but that's supposed to be the time period now, so..."

As he spoke, he was aware of Dias trying out the door, but it'd sounded like it'd locked tight. He wasn't surprised when he couldn't get it open. Still, the comment grated on Claude a little. "It just shut on its own," he said with a frown, and it was hard to hide the mild irritation in his voice. "I don't know if there's anything we can even prop it open with."

Guy glanced over at Claude curiously, pondering over his talk of centuries. It sounded interesting (some sort of contradiction?), but before he could ask for any kind of clarification, he was interrupted by Dias' comment regarding the door.

He could understand the man's concern - he didn't like the feeling of being closed-in either - but he could understand where Claude was coming from as well. Guy put a hand to his chin as he thought it over.

"We could use one of our flashlights, maybe, but that would be risking the chance of losing it." He wasn't sure if that was a risk any of them wanted to take. Guy knew that he used his flashlight a good deal, not to mention he'd gone to the effort to get extra batteries for them (as had Claude). Dias didn't seem as prone to using his, but that didn't mean he was willing to chuck it away. On the other hand, it had been Dias' idea, so if anyone was going to donate one, it made sense that it would be him.

"If it comes to it," Dias said flatly, "we could cut down one of these tapestries. They look heavy enough, and rolled up they ought to be more than thick enough." Even as an artist himself, Dias didn't hold art so sacred that he wouldn't make practical use of it if necessary. He'd sacrificed some of his own sketches for firestarters before when he'd been out in the woods(but never sketches of Cecille, although that wasn't about the art itself so much as the subject). He didn't care how significant the tapestries might be, how old or ornate - if they could serve a useful purpose, then he'd use them.

There were two doors in the hallway - a wooden double door at the far end, much like the one they'd just come through, and a set of golden doors closer at hand. Having explored ruins before, Dias had learned a few simple guidelines; chief among them was that the architects of the past had been almost physically incapable of placing important rooms or treasures behind plain, nondescript doors. So it was the golden doors he moved to, testing their weight briefly - heavy, he noted, but well-balanced, and hopefully not inclined to swing shut behind them - before pushing them open and heading into the next room.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/564078.html).]

Stepping inside, Sai held the door open for the others. He didn't trust it not to close quickly and lock after them, so this was the safest option. If they were locked in here, hopefully morning would see them at least returned to their bedrooms. He hadn't heard of anyone getting trapped down here, at least.

Then again, if they hadn't returned there'd be no one to relay the message. That wasn't a pleasant line of thought, and he frowned for a moment as he kept the passage open. Would that explain some of the disappearances? Others had returned from the basement, however, so this didn't lend well to that theory.

Naruto was keeping quiet again, but keeping his makeshift dagger in hand and ready to lash out if necessary. This place really made one paranoid, he'd never been this on guard even on missions.

Then again he'd never been tied to a table and felt a knife slice through his cornea, either.

"We can go anywhere, then?" He asked, after nodding that whatever information they gathered would be useful.

Nightshift 39: Basement, West Hall

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