damned_institute | Nightshift 40

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Nightshift 40 - M31-M40 Hallway

[From here]

Dean's flashlight flickered as he focused it on the room's door. M31. He had a winner. Normally he'd just let himself in - either by picking the door or kicking it down - but for some reason he didn't. Instead Dean knocked, rapping the door with his knuckles and waiting to be let in. Standing here felt good - he was supposed to be here and, his new-found confidence told him, he'd report. To who and for what? Dean didn't remember quite yet but it didn't seem to bother him at all as he waited outside in the dark, keeping an eye and ear out for anything that went bump in the night and needed to get bumped back. All the aches and pains from the last couple of nights here ceased to bother him as much as they had earlier: the cuts, the bruises, the bandages, everything took a backseat to getting into M31 and answering that compulsion.

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M11, that's what Yue had written, right? So it wasn't all that far at all. Even if Yuki was coming to him, they'd meet each other halfway. So Touya didn't see any reason at all for him to stay put and wait for Yuki to show up.

Grabbing his flashlight and bat, he wished Jaime good luck and left the room. Touya walked down the hallway, being sure to mind the shadows and be on the lookout for anything, while trying to remember which way M11 was.

That was fast.

Somehow managing to contain the unbearably smug grin threatening to overtake his face, Lelouch rose from his seat and limped to the door. The knock hadn't sound like Suzaku's, and with there being only one other person he was expecting tonight, it was easy to determine who it was. The knowledge that his Geass had been entirely effective this time around was far more satisfying than that, though, and while it was disappointing that his influence over Subject D would disappear come daybreak, the contribution his "assistance" would make to Lelouch's tests was nonetheless invaluable. Now...

"Thank you for coming, sir," Lelouch said once he'd opened the door. It was early enough in the night that there might be others still emerging from their rooms that could overhear their conversation, and while he wasn't especially worried about that right now, it didn't hurt to be cautious. "Why don't you come inside? We have one more person to wait for and it isn't safe out there." That and it would be easier to deliver the rest of his orders in the room's relative privacy, but he wasn't about to say that.

Edited 2009-04-17 23:05 (UTC)

(To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/603918.html?thread=50558222#t50558222))

As Suzaku neared the end of the hallway, the darkness gave way enough that he could tell someone else was outside Lelouch's door. Steps slowing with caution, he determined that the man didn't seem up to anything just yet, and drew nearer. Near enough to see that Lelouch had his door open and was speaking to the man, but that wasn't adequate grounds to believe the man's intentions were good or that he was here by Lelouch's design. The only way to tell for sure was to find out directly, so he joined them, not quite able to hide the tenseness in his posture or the narrowing of his eyes.

"Lelouch?" he asked quietly, glancing toward the other man. The question didn't have to be asked verbally.

Eager as Bart had been to get out and find something interesting, he almost knocked over his chair in his haste to get out the door as soon as the intercom went off. With a wave and a grin for Lelouch (and a roll of the eyes for the crazy guy; come on, what kind of self-respecting supervillain did he think he was?) he was off. To what exactly, he wasn't yet sure, but whatever it was, it'd better watch out!

Sure, he could do that. Dean only glanced at the newcomer before turning his attention to the kid who answered the door. For some reason, he kept thinking about Mommy's dresses, of all things, and he swore he'd had that same thought before, only he was sure he hadn't. It didn't occur to him that he'd had the exact same thought only a few hours ago or that it was actually his third time running into this boy. Ignoring the deja-vu, Dean strolled inside as if he belonged in M31, automatically sizing up the (girly) kid who answered the door. He looked like he could break him in half by accident. That didn't mean much, though, and you didn't have to be able to bench-press a bus or eat nails for breakfast to be a badass. Or at the very least to be someone to look out for. This "Lelouch" just seemed to be someone worth following to him and while Dean couldn't place a finger on his instincts, he did know he trusted him.

As for the other guy...Dean had only barely paid him attention, but he looked like he was the same age as Lelouch. Maybe they were classmates or friends or something. Honestly? It didn't even matter to him. All that had mattered up to this point was hauling ass to M31, meeting the skinny kid behind the door, and...that was pretty much it, as far as he knew.

Dean took up a position in the room where he could keep an eye on the door. It was just going on auto-pilot, making sure the room was safe even though he couldn't see any immediate reason why it wouldn't be. The hunter found his eyes again straying toward Lelouch, unconsciously waiting for more orders, his grip on the bowie knife he'd brought with him relaxed. His other hand he shoved into his jacket's pocket, to wait as long he was supposed to stand here. Dean looked entirely at home in the stranger's room.

Edited 2009-04-18 05:33 (UTC)

And there Suzaku was. How convenient. Lelouch had honestly expected him to take a little bit longer with how far away his room was, but apart from meaning that he'd have to deliver the rest of his orders with Suzaku looking over his shoulder, it didn't mean much. The idea itself was somewhat uncomfortable-- Lelouch didn't know just how his knight would react to him flaunting his power when it had always been such a point of contention between them-- but he eventually cast the emotion aside. Suzaku knew full well what he was capable of and willing to do to achieve his goals. That was enough.

"You will accompany us tonight and serve as my guard and Suzaku's backup," Lelouch said next instead, his eyes on Subject D. The man was wearing regular clothing in place of the usual patient's uniform, which was somewhat confusing, but maybe he'd just gotten them from the patient possessions room or something. "Follow his orders if I am ever incapacitated and do everthing you can to make sure that both of us live through the night." That last part probably hadn't been necessary on top of everything else Lelouch had specified, but he wasn't going to take chances with either his or Suzaku's lives.

He glanced back to his knight once he'd finished, only the slightest downward curve to the edge of his mouth to suggest that he was still a little apprehensive about how Suzaku would react. On the whole, he didn't care, but... no, that didn't matter anymore. Suzaku understood his methods now and there was no need to explain himself. Why would he even want to? How perfectly idiotic.

"Shall we, then?" Lelouch asked, fetching his flashlight and pulling on his shoes. He was still slow about it all, but his limp had improved from yesterday and he didn't think he'd have any trouble going without his crutches. Probably. Besides, the recreational field wasn't that far.

Edited 2009-04-18 08:19 (UTC)

Frying pan, splintered wood, flower, door. Scourge left his room with a resigned sigh, having a sinking feeling that this night was going to go about as well as the last two. He made sure to walk quickly this time to avoid any possibility of getting there last and being again for holding them up.

It had been Lugnut's fault for taking so long interrogating him that they never had a chance to get to the upstairs area at all, but the higher ups never took the blame for anything.

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/604759.html)]

Suzaku stiffened at Lelouch's tone and glanced at the other man again, eyes narrowing further. So Lelouch had foreseen that the plan for the night could end unpleasantly, and made provisions in case any danger arose. But was it really necessary to make those provisions? Suzaku supposed it was much more secure than just trusting a stranger, but he still couldn't help a bit of instinctive distaste at the entire concept. And the thought of the power of absolute control being transferred to him, that was just. . .

But he didn't have a right to be thinking this way, did he? This was the best practical solution for any difficulties the night might pose, and he'd agreed to take the same path as Lelouch, be willing to sacrifice his own moral principles for the good of the world. If he was truly prepared to fight at Lelouch's side and at his level, he couldn't just let Lelouch take all the sin upon himself and refuse the same burden. The bottom line was that he had decided to accept this, even if it still made him uncomfortable.

"By the way, Lelouch," he said with a slightly strained, forced normality as he left the door's threshold and led the way down the hall. He assumed the other two would follow; he'd just have to take a slow pace to make sure Lelouch could keep up. "My room got changed, I'm in M28 now. Practically next door."

It looked like the Commander was sleeping in tonight. Everyone needed a break now and again, really. Too bad Junior couldn't do the same. As he got ready, he wondered what the hell the intercom voice meant by opening some 'box'. The only thing that really came to mind was Pandora's box, but that was just a myth, wasn't it? Why didn't anyone ever give good warnings that weren't cryptic?

Not that he had too much time to consider it. He had a brother to meet. Junior grabbed his sword and flashlight, then headed out the door and down the hall.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/611114.html).]

Schuldig rapped his knuckles lightly on Farfarello's door. "Hey, Farfie," he called. "What's terribly unlucky and bleeds profusely?"

The correct answer to that little riddle was, of course, 'the first suitable victim we find', and the telepath expected his partner knew that. The question had been largely for the Berserker's benefit, to assure him immediately that the Mastermind was aware of his needs and had every intention of seeing to them tonight...and all of this, preferably, through a nice sturdy door.

Schuldig never underestimated Farfarello when he started getting twitchy. He took all sorts of risks every day, but that would be just plain foolhardy.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/610149.html?thread=50728037#t50728037), with permission, sorry about the repost]

Miku was pleased with her speed - in fact, her bruises protested very little as she hurried through the men's block, quick and careful. Without any problems at all, she stopped in front of Sousuke's room and sighed heavily. She'd made it. This was the moment of truth, where she found out if he'd vanished or if his things were still there and he'd gone off to look for her, instead. Miku knocked on the door politely, and pulled it open slowly.

"Excuse me, I was looking for Sagara..." she started, and paused when she realized that the room was dark and still, except for the heavy, male sounds of sleeping. Curious, Miku shone her light into the room and swept it across Sousuke's bed, carefully picking her way inside so she wouldn't disturb either man. She breathed a little sigh of relief to see that he was still there, and her stomach twisted itself into a knot. She tiptoed to his bedside and pointed the light at the floor too keep it dim.

Oh, Sousuke. She thought and smoothed the covers over him. You look peaceful this way. I won't wake you up. She knelt down and used her knees as a desk, writing another quick note. (http://rope-victim.livejournal.com/5573.html) She pulled it out of her journal after folding it back and forth a few times to reduce the noise of the tear and put it beside him on his pillow.

Shyly, Miku wondered if kissing his cheek while he slept would be strange. It would be, that's so silly. I'm such a strange person sometimes, she thought and hurried out of the room with her bag, closing the door behind her. I hope they sleep well.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/605196.html?thread=50731276#t50731276)]

Tonight promised to be a productive night. Wesker didn't take his own supply of chemicals with him up to the lab. Since he was heading to the lab it would be simple enough to merely retrieve the necessary chemicals from the storage upstairs.

Wesker took his assorted knives with him as he made his way out into the institute.

[Going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/605196.html?thread=50736908#t50736908)]

Shikamaru used more force than necessary when he tore the duplicate page of notes from his journal and shoved it into his pocket, both annoyed and aware of his annoyance from a distant vantage point, as if it belonged to someone else. It was better to get it out of his system, if he'd have to present a rational and calm argument against working with Sasuke, so he also yanked open his closet door hard enough for it to thump solidly against the wall and rebound a couple of inches. He trusted Kakashi but he knew what Kakashi would say; for some reason, all of Team 7 firmly believed in Sasuke's redeemability, despite how many Leaf-nin he'd directly attacked or nearly gotten killed. It was unforgivable. Shikamaru was sick of being asked to forgive it.

They needed to use their heads. Everyone needed to use their heads.

He leaned against the wall beside the closet and crossed his arms as he stared at the dim shadows lining the point where the opposite wall met the floor. It was troublesome. A pain in the ass. He was running out of stamina for this kind of junk, and running out of words to describe it.

After tempering his annoyance with a few more silent complaints, Shikamaru pushed away from the wall and looked into the closet. More clothes. Nothing worth carrying, though he did put on the shoes, remembering the feel of fresh cat-blood soaking his socks on the first night. They felt unnaturally heavy.

He didn't have any plan, nothing to offer the team. Anyone could figure out what not to do, as his father had told him on more than one occasion, and with so little information, so little chakra, and so little faith in the surviving members of the Uchiha clan, he felt like more of a hassle than an asset, though he knew he was right about Sasuke. In the end, being right was irrelevant. He wasn't the one who would make the decision, and even bringing up his point would be more trouble than it was worth. Still, it remained in his thoughts as he left the room and started down the hall.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/603918.html?thread=50758926#t50758926)]

Edited 2009-04-20 01:25 (UTC)

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/603918.html?thread=50864398#t50864398)]

Kvothe shown his light forward as he and Tony turned the corner, and frowned when he saw the chair sitting out in the hallway. By the door of the Clinic unless he was mistaken. "I wonder what that's for..."

Tony ran up to the door to see. He read the note propped up on the chair, then waved Kvothe to follow him.

"It's about Tamaki. He's been moved, and they need supplies. They're open though." He went inside.

[gone here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/616267.html)]

It had taken him longer than he'd thought, but Jaime had gotten down a lot of the information he'd found out so far and was starting to come up with a couple of solid plans. Provided he could find the things he needed anyway.

Either way, he wasn't going to find much out by sitting around his room all night, so he paused long enough to collect his journal with the maps he'd gotten, stuff the radio into the pillowcase stripped from his bed (if it did talk, he wanted to hear it), and pick up his flashlight before he was out the door and on his way.

It was a sobering surprise to find his scalpels and flashlight exactly where he'd left them in his old room. He felt a bit like he was being mocked after going through the effort of hiding the admittedly paltry weapons. Like it didn't matter what he had because they were far stronger. Nataku had no doubt that they were, but it was still pretty irritating. Well, at least he wouldn't be joining Kenren completely unarmed.

After taking a look at his map again, Nataku said goodbye Ritsuka and headed for the end of the hallway. There were already people going into the clinic, but so far no one looked hurt. Maybe they were the healers. Either way, he hoped Ritsuka would manage alright for the night. Wasn't Homura interested in medical supplies too? Maybe he could bring some back for his roommate later on.

He'd talk to him about it when they met for whatever job he had tonight.

[to here ()]

Farfarello jerked the door open and glared balefully at Schuldig. "Don't call me that." He was way too far gone to have any patience for the stupid nickname, right now.

Also, he was already armed up and ready to go. But on the up side, Farfarello wasn't quite twitchy enough get to stab Schuldig for the use of the aforementioned stupid nickname.

"All right," Schuldig agreed readily, and if nothing else would have warned a knowledgeable observer that Farfarello was on edge, that alone would have been enough. The telepath would only pass up the chance to bicker semantics - or, really, anything else - if there was genuinely serious business to attend to. Usually only something lethal qualified as serious enough to shut Schuldig up...and the Berserker could be just about as lethal as anything the Mastermind was familiar with, and he was familiar with quite a lot. "You've got more of a knack for finding violence than I do - care to lead the way?"

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Nightshift 40 - M31-M40 Hallway

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