damned_institute | Nightshift 39: Pharmacy

Hanatarou cautiously edged into the room when the vice-captain moved aside, feeling reasonably assured that it was safe enough for the moment. Of course, he'd thought that until he was halfway across the previous hallway, and considering how that had turned out - well.

He moved up to the closest shelf and shone his light on the rows of bottles, catching his lower lip in his teeth and chewing lightly as he examined the labels. The names he could see might as well be another language, for all he recognized them, though. Norvasc? Warfarin? Xanax? None of them looked like the remedies he was used to seeing in the 4th Division stores, but he was certain at least some of them would be useful.

After a moment's consideration he finally just shrugged a little, carefully setting his sword down at his feet so that he could unfasten the bag strapped across his chest and retrieve the pillowcase he'd left inside. Hopefully they'd be able to move on to the next room on the list and there would be something there to fill the bag itself, as sadly empty as it was. "I don't recognize a lot of these," he replied, a little sheepishly. "If...if maybe I take some of everything...? Whatever I can fit in here."

He didn't recognize any of the names, either, and he'd spent time in the Fourth himself. Kira nodded and approached one of the shelves, examining the labels there as well. No, they weren't familiar, and he certainly wouldn't know what to do with any of them, but if someone was able to discern their use later, then that would be for the best.

"Fine," he agreed, wrapping the pillowcase around his arm to get it out of the way and switching his flashlight into his left hand to scan the areas around the shelves. "I'll keep watch. If you think you hear anything, say so." The sounds would probably carry better than the sights in here.

Fortunately the task didn't take very long: when he didn't really know what he was grabbing, just taking a little of everything was quite simple. And the pillowcase ended up quite full, too. Now Hanatarou would just need to find someone to identify everything that he had, as soon as he had the leisure to read over the labels and figure out just what he did have.

Of course, now that he'd finished the errand in here, they had to move on to the next room. And...that meant going back out into the main hallway. After a moment's consideration he took the pillowcase back, stuffing his flashlight inside as well; hopefully Kira's would provide enough light for the time being.

[out to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/584603.html?thread=48651419#t48651419)]

The door banged open, and Spider cheerfully pulled his dolly into the room with him. It was hard to keep a raging battle-fury going through the wobbly headmaze of the chemical fumes, the heaviness of his dolly, and his joy at having reached his goal.

"Let's see what you past people get high on," he muttered, leaving the hand truck parked by the door and turning towards the shelves. Then his three flashlights finally illuminated the room's selection.

It was magnificent. A towering metropolis of succor-lined terraces, swaying under the weight of their chemical bounty. Sterile white pharmaceutical fruit-trees ripe for harvest. SHELVES full of DRUGS. Spider felt as if he were standing at the entrance to a great library, the Alexandria of getting fucked off his ass. He spread his arms and threw back his head.

"Let us begin!"

Edited 2009-03-15 08:44 (UTC)

Unfortunately, in addition to being a veritable Mecca for those who worshipped the concept of recreational drug usage, the pharmacy also housed a creature who was right at home in its surroundings.

The snake was curled under one of the lowest shelves, its tongue flicking out intermittently as it tasted the air in search of something that didn't belong in its haven. When the sour and sweaty being entered, carrying with him the flavor of years of drug usage, the Kida's interest was piqued. It slowly uncoiled, spiraling out like a curious rope, though the bulk of its body remained in the deepest shadow.

Spider skipped down the aisles, tipping entire shelves into his sacks and humming a tuneless, miserable punk song he hardly remembered. It quickly devolved into maniacal laughter.

"W-what? MORPHINE?! WE HAVE MORPHINE!" he said, "AND CAVEMAN JUMPSTART!" he crowed, holding a bottle of ritalin between his few working fingers before tossing it into a rattling pillowcase. It was like fucking candyland. Reds and whites and fiendishly difficult childproof caps cascaded past him and into his seemingly limitless bags. A waterfall of medication. He couldn't help but pop a few pills as he went. He was skipping down technicolor corridors of intoxicants, reaping the druggy rewards. Not a mist, or a ninja, or an evil snake in sight to mar his perfect joy! How could things possibly improve?

Edited 2009-03-17 06:15 (UTC)

The Kida swished its tail, letting out a low, almost inaudible hiss as it began to move out of the shadows. Its single eye caught the light of Spider's flashlight and seemed to glow in the dim ambient light. It was drawn by the vibrations of the pills rattling in the bags, and it was curious.

While it kept most of its body in the shadowy space, the dark, viscous liquid that it left in its wake was also just barely visible in the light. It almost shimmered and reflected the rainbow of pills that was raining down.

It wouldn't take long for the hallucinogen to kick in. The walls would fade into a sweet blue sky, and the floor would be the rough ground typical of a mountain range. The view from here would be beautiful, the kind you saw in postcards and those obnoxious travel shows on public television.

Spider had just started on the last row of shelves in the pharmacy when he thought he heard something. Actually, he'd been hearing a lot of things for some time now - cows mooing, ice cream truck jingles, stray cats violating each other - but nothing that was actually within the realm of possibility. This sounded like air, or worse, gas escaping from some hidden pipe.

"Tryna sedate me, you crussy jizzrags?" he yelled, slurring his words so heavily that it sounded like his mouth was full of jellyfish. "Too bad I beatcha to it. Heh heh. Aww fuckall." Spider had somehow managed to collapse forward and knee himself in the face while he was talking, and was spending a great deal of effort righting himself. Pill bottles fell all around him.

"You try an' shit in my mouth an' I'll take enough jumpstart ta shoota dead dog ta Mercury!" He walked clumsily down the aisle, dragging his hand across the shelves. Maybe he shouldn't have taken those pills. Or those other pills. He sniffed the air, trying to get the residual chemical fumes out of his nasal passages, and then he smelled it. The insidious scent of ... fresh mountain air? He looked around. He could still feel his hand on the pill bottles, but instead of tiled floors in a badly lit room, there was green grass between his toes. And there, off in the distance, untouched in his unbearable absence, was his old mountain cottage.

"Hah! Tryan trick me, ya gonad-grabbin brainfucks? Yull hafta get cher stepdad's dick out your ear if ya wanna pull one over on Spider fuckin Jerusalem." With that, Spider took off running towards his mountain home.

"I knew your so-called institution wassa hallucination all along!"

The snake hissed, spreading another layer of the hallucinogen on the floor. It seemed to be kicking in, but...it might have been the copious amounts of drugs the man had taken. It wanted to be entirely sure the hallucination had kicked in. It would last for some time, even after he left the room, but it wanted to be sure. Once the Kida was, it slithered back into the darkness.

"SECURITY MEASURES DEACTI ... ACTER ... RACTIVATE!" Spider commanded as he sprinted through fields of blooming flowers, some of which were actually SINGING TO HIM! Hmm ... that didn't seem quite right. Oh, that was probably just the drugs. What drugs? He hadn't taken any DRUGS, had he? Spider stared at a crooning daffodil for too long and slammed into the wall of his house, just to the left of his door. His arms got caught in something metal which seemed to be ... what was his wheelbarrow doing by the door?

"I SAID SECURITY MEASURES RADIC... DEACTER... TURN THE FUCK OFF!," he yelled at the house, grabbing his wheelbarrow, which was heavy despite appearing completely empty. "As for you, murderous wheelbarrow, I'm going to take you pieces! Where are my grenades?" With one hand keeping the homicidal farming implement at bay, Spider opened his front door and pushed inside.

Edited 2009-03-26 06:52 (UTC)

The swordsman entered into the room quietly, but there was no need for subtlety; already one of the...fellow patients, perhaps? was already here, rather noisily and boisterously digging through the shelves above. Doubtless he would be able to assist them, so Kunzite sauntered up to one of the unoccupied shelves and scanned his light over the contents.

Each of the small bottles bore names that were utterly foreign to him. He was never a man of the sciences, but even those chemicals he did recognize bore different names to those used by modern humanity. Turning round partially, he looked to Javert for some hopeful assistance.

"I don't suppose you know what any of these are, do you?" he asked, somewhat pathetically, as if ashamed of his lack of knowledge. "I may just grab whatever I can here, but it would be far more efficient to obtain items that would be the most beneficial to others." He turned back quickly, grabbing the few that he did recognize, especially penicillin and calcium.

Javert cast an embarrassed eye over the contents of the pharmacy, trying to ignore the triumphant crowing of the man beside them. Clearly he was familiar with the contents of the shelves, but as for Javert himself, he was more than a little lost. Dying a century before even penicillin would be discovered didn't exactly help matters.

Morphine was at least somewhat familiar - that went into the pillowcase - but by and large the rest of the names all looked the same to him. He glanced surreptitiously at what Kunzite was taking and filled the bag with those as well.

He'd been here once before, with Trevelyan, near the beginning of his stay here. As he surveyed the shelves, he tried to think back. What else had the other man taken? He was from this time, wasn't he? Getting soft, Javert. You ought to remember this - ah.

"Tylenol and Vicodin," he said, stumbling awkwardly over the pronunciations as he reached up and took a few bottles. "I have reason to believe they are painkillers. But I'm afraid I'm over a century and a half behind when it comes to medicine - not that it was ever one of my interests to begin with."

"There, at least, you have some advantage over me," Kunzite laughed, reaching for the "tie-len-all" and "vai-ko-din" his companion had mentioned. "I was originally born numerous millennia ago, and while I was reincarnated in the late 20th century, I never quite had the chance to learn of even the most basic of modern medicines." The swordsman stopped himself short before continuing with for numerous reasons, not the least of which was that the madman's boisterousness made speaking difficult.

Though there was SOME satisfaction to actually getting a job done...this was not Kunzite's element, and not the job he had envisioned when he joined up with the History Club. True enough, ransacking Landel's stores reignited his none-too-subtle rebellious streak; the swordsman tended to chafe under any authority that conflicted with his own ideals, and what better example was that than this insane doctor who claimed them to be ill? Nevertheless, he thought, grabbing a few more bottles and trying to memorize their names as he shoved them into his pillowcase, Homura seems like a reasonable individual; perhaps I should suggest to him that I might be better suited in an exploratory/combative role, if there is indeed such a need among the patients...

"Millennia ago." Javert chuckled slightly. "I almost wouldn't believe you, were it not for the fact that I've met so much stranger in this place."

The pillowcase found itself full relatively quickly; the bin of needles and glassware had taken up quite a lot of space, leaving little room for the containers of pills. He settled for shoving what would fit into the numerous pockets of his greatcoat, feeling little better than a petty thief. At least the staff had done them the small kindness of leaving clear labels on all the bottles.

"For a time after my reincarnation, nor would I," Kunzite smirked. "But once I was...reawoken to the truth, it was as clear as day to me. I must admit, however, that many of the things here are reminiscent of some of the things I've witnessed in my world. The 'staff' here have surely recruited quite a motley of patients, eh?"

The swordsman soon also noticed that his own make-shift rucksack was starting to get rather unwieldy. The bat stuck out awkwardly and altered the center of balance considerably; along with handling Edgeworth's sword and flashlight, he feared that he would be an easy target for some creature wishing to cause needless mischief. Thus, after gathering a few more bottles at random, he took the satchel and flashlight in one hand, sword in the other, and turned toward the door.

"Perhaps we should make our way out of here," he murmured. "I don't know about you, but I feel we have our full, for now."

"So it seems." Javert cast a glance at the other man currently rummaging through the shelves; it appeared to him that he was leaving himself completely open to attack, but the room seemed quiet enough for now. Besides, there were enough strange patients here; who was to say the other man was completely helpless to begin with?

That was that, then. He didn't like the idea of leaving someone so probably unhinged alone, but it wasn't as if the two of them were capable of protecting someone else so easily here. Nodding to Kunzite, he led the way out of the room.

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/612963.html?view=51452259#t51452259)]

The tiny room was disappointingly already fairly ransacked. Perhaps some of those medicines were going to go the pharmacy, though Armand feared they wouldn't. He squeezed inside enough to let his friends join him. This would take some time to sort out if there was anything of value left.

What a mess. Time's arrow had streaked past them again tonight. Alec wondered how exactly everyone else could get here before him, and decided it was the Head Doctor being a bastard again. Nothing new there.

"Nothing left but to grab what's left over," he said, wandering over to a shelf. Morphine, Vicodin, Tylenol, ibuprofen, codeine, aspirin. And maybe that oxycodone stuff. Really, he was just scanning the labels, looking for pain relievers and assorted opiates.

We're here for the clinic. "Any penicillin left?" he asked.

"I'll cover the door," Steve volunteered once they were in the pharmacy. Someone had already gone through it, that much was apparent. Unfortunate, but there would probably still be something they could use here. Steve wasn't completely unfamiliar with modern medicine, just mostly, since he rarely required any of it himself.

He couldn't really see much, but it would be negligent to ignore any potential danger coming from outside. They hadn't properly cleared the room either, but there weren't very many places to hide inside the pharmacy. If there was something in here, it would have to be small.

"I will too." On what was considered 'modern medicine' here, TK knew absolutely bugger-all. He'd be a lot more helpful watching the door than getting in the way.

"Let us take everything we can find in pill form," Armand instructed as he picked up a small bottle of liquid morphine. If it had been labeled "laudanum" he might have recognized it. Mostly out of curiosity, he pocketed that and a few other of the small bottles and vials of various drugs, then started filling his pillow case with what he could of the rest.

It was uncertain how much they'd finally get, but even if the previous ransacking was also going to the Clinic, the more the better. He was hoping to find other supplies here, like bandages and tape, but the staff must store those somewhere else. Armand tried not to worry that they hadn't been asked to get supplies for the Clinic. It had simply seemed the altruistic thing to do when no definite plans surfaced. He knew that he'd have to find a real assignment during the next day to test his ideas. And that'd be tricky.

The desk and computer caught his eye. He didn't recognize the computer since it looked so different than the super-powered laptop computer that Washu had shone him last week, but the similar elements of a screen and keyboard made him wonder. "What is that?" he asked his companions, pointing to the device.

"Sounds like a plan," Alec said as he cleared off the shelves. Lorazepam, calcium, anti-diuretics (someone might need that, for whatever reason), all of it went into the pillowcase. He smirked at his handiwork. Sure, the place was probably going to magically restock itself in the morning...but if it didn't, oh, he wished he could be there to see how vexed the staff would be.

Armand's question caught his attention. Oh, great. "That's a computer," he said, and meandered over to it. The light on the monitor was amber - the machine was off. He leaned over and turned it on, waiting through the boot sequence. "It could have something useful on it."

Password-protected. Fuck. He wished, for once, that Boris was around. The Russian programmer may have been annoying and with questionable taste in shirts, but if anyone could crack the computer quickly, he could. Alec could probably do it, given enough time, but the night was likely running out. He made a note of the computer's location and resolved to see if anyone was a skilled hacker on the bulletin board. He glanced back at Rogers and TK. "Either of you any good at sidestepping password protection?" He was loath to admit that he couldn't do it right away - that ego again - but he had to if they were to get anything out of it tonight.

Nightshift 39: Pharmacy

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