[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/585347.html?thread=48918659#t48918659)]
The door ahead of them was already open, luckily, and as the four moved through it, Shikamaru pulled it shut behind them. It didn't lock, but it would hopefully stop those in the cafeteria from using any magic or weapon that required a line of sight.
The room smelled like blood: bad sign. Given the silence and stillness, though, it was most likely that someone had escaped through here after being attacked by the person or people in the cafeteria. Just in case, he cast the beam of his flashlight over the surroundings.
Aside from the spilled blood, the kitchen was even cleaner than the one at his house--a feat, considering how often his mother made him clean the damn thing. There were no visible monsters or people ready to attack, so he stepped aside to a drawer and quickly slid his fingers around the edges then pulled it out a quarter inch, listening for giant roaches or ants or sentient silverware or whatever the hell haunted the kitchen. Satisfied that it wasn't rigged or a habitat for man-eating washcloths, he balanced the flashlight between his chin and shoulder and yanked the drawer fully open.
Judging from the disorder, it seemed someone else had been here first, but after pushing around the spoons, he did find a few very dull knives. Shikamaru moved quickly, not wanting to hold up the group but working as quietly as possible within those constraints. "We can sharpen this stuff later," he said, picking up a couple triangle-shaped things with wooden handles. What the hell? For cake? Nothing he found was especially sturdy, but they'd run out of scalpels eventually and those blades were thin to begin with, requiring a precision that was difficult in the dark and possibly bending or breaking when used against anything with armor or a protective shell.
The instruments were useless now, so he didn't bother offering them to the others. After a few seconds of trying to fit more than a couple knives in his pockets, he gave up and glanced across the others. Somehow, Kakashi had managed to keep his usual clothing, and the assortment of pockets there should be enough. "Can you hang onto these?" he asked, holding out the findings. "We'll just get rid of them if we find something more important."
no subject
The door ahead of them was already open, luckily, and as the four moved through it, Shikamaru pulled it shut behind them. It didn't lock, but it would hopefully stop those in the cafeteria from using any magic or weapon that required a line of sight.
The room smelled like blood: bad sign. Given the silence and stillness, though, it was most likely that someone had escaped through here after being attacked by the person or people in the cafeteria. Just in case, he cast the beam of his flashlight over the surroundings.
Aside from the spilled blood, the kitchen was even cleaner than the one at his house--a feat, considering how often his mother made him clean the damn thing. There were no visible monsters or people ready to attack, so he stepped aside to a drawer and quickly slid his fingers around the edges then pulled it out a quarter inch, listening for giant roaches or ants or sentient silverware or whatever the hell haunted the kitchen. Satisfied that it wasn't rigged or a habitat for man-eating washcloths, he balanced the flashlight between his chin and shoulder and yanked the drawer fully open.
Judging from the disorder, it seemed someone else had been here first, but after pushing around the spoons, he did find a few very dull knives. Shikamaru moved quickly, not wanting to hold up the group but working as quietly as possible within those constraints. "We can sharpen this stuff later," he said, picking up a couple triangle-shaped things with wooden handles. What the hell? For cake? Nothing he found was especially sturdy, but they'd run out of scalpels eventually and those blades were thin to begin with, requiring a precision that was difficult in the dark and possibly bending or breaking when used against anything with armor or a protective shell.
The instruments were useless now, so he didn't bother offering them to the others. After a few seconds of trying to fit more than a couple knives in his pockets, he gave up and glanced across the others. Somehow, Kakashi had managed to keep his usual clothing, and the assortment of pockets there should be enough. "Can you hang onto these?" he asked, holding out the findings. "We'll just get rid of them if we find something more important."