damned_institute | Nightshift 40: M11-M20 Hallway

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Nightshift 40: M11-M20 Hallway

[M12]

There was this 'Avatar' again, the thing that supposedly linked one's consciousness within this video game. Klavier couldn't quite understand how such a thing could help anyone fight, but he was certain that this connection had something to do with how and why Endrance was taken. If this really wasn't something every player experienced, then there was little doubt others might find such a thing interesting, yes? He still wasn't sure how this all worked, but preserving this connection had to be the point of it all. At least in this particular case.

Any further discussion on this or the strange 'Kira' murders was cut short with the intercom announcement. If one could call it that. Herr Doktor's voice and demeanor changed come nightfall, true, but this was stranger than usual. In fact, he couldn't even be sure if it was the doctor. It was far too raspy to identify either way.

This was getting more bizarre with every evening. First taunting then what may or may not have been snoring... and now this strange dilapidated voice?

"Open the box?" he repeated. What could he possibly mean by that? ...Wait. Was this voice even addressing the patient population? It seemed too specific a thing to say to everyone. Could this be a message for Herr Doktor? Or was this a message for a specific party? Maybe someone had managed to do something recently...

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Somewhere the sound of his door opening registered, but to Homura it was distant and unimportant. Admist the pain he'd finally come to understand, to find a purpose within the prison. He was now and always the Toushin Taishi, an unclean being used for an unclean purpose. The sword of those with power, to be weilded and used at their discretion, and for their will.

The gunshot was so much louder than the door had been. So much more real, but just as insignificant. The air rippled around Homura as the bullet came near, so close to doing as Sanzo wished...

...before it harmlessly ricocheted into one of the walls of the room.

"You shouldn't be here, you know." The pain was nothing more than a fading memory, and Homura grinned as he moved to his feet. "Were you hoping to accomplish something with that little attack? It's a wasted effort, just like everything else you try to gain at night."

There was no need to fear this man. What could he do in the face of a god? Yet Homura relished the answer he knew he'd receive, and the inconquerable spirit that hadn't dulled the in the least over five centuries and numerous reincarnations.

"I'll give you one chance. Go back to your room now, and this will end peacefully, Konzen Douji."

What the fuck? The bullet had been hurtling right towards him: there wasn't any way he'd miss at that range. That would've been a fatal head shot....

...Only, it seemed more like that time he'd tried to fire on the orderlies. The only difference was there didn't seem to be the bullet swerving to avoid him. The shot had connected. Except it was more like Homura himself had just repelled it. Instead of burying itself into his skull, the bullet only bouncing right off the son of a bitch, before burying itself into a wall.

Homura was rising, as if he hadn't just been shot at. He had that same smug grin on his face. Sanzo grit his teeth, even as he spared a small glance at the smoking hole in the wall.

What was going on here?

"I know better than to listen to your shit. Shut up." This wasn't the first time he'd tried to use fair words. Sanzo hadn't been taken in by it then. He wasn't about to be taken in by it now.

With another bang, he fired another shot, this time at his chest.

The second shot shared the fate of the first: perfectly aimed, yet stopped by the invisible power surrounding Homura that kept him safe from such strikes. For the second time the air rippled before the bullet veered away from the demi-god, as if there were a wall surrounding him Sanzo couldn't hope to breech.

Which wasn't so far from the truth.

"I will always like that about you." The stubbornness, the will that refused to bend. It was why he sough people like Sanzo out, and the others. Yet power was what determined who ruled the worlds of gods and mortals alike, and power is what the patients lacked.

His movement was quick, Homura stepping forward with speed that made the strike almost too quick to be seen. Closing the distance between himself and Sanzo, Homura punched hard at the man's chest. It wouldn't be a fatal blow--that would do little good when it came to seeing the man again. But he would easily break bone with the impact, and send Sanzo flying through the doorway of M13 into the hall.

Homura moved, practically a blur. Far faster than he'd ever seen him move before. There was that split second to register that he was suddenly gone from that spot. All of his instincts were railing at that. Sanzo just barely had time to raise both arms to try and block.

It wasn't enough. The blow still struck, and the monk was sent crashing through the doorway and out into the hallway. His shoulders struck the wall hard, almost enough to drop the gun.

For a moment, Sanzo could only just try and get his breath back, sparks swimming across his vision. It felt like his lungs had just collapsed in his chest, and he desperately tried to suck in breath after breath. It felt like he'd just been hit by a truck.

"Not bad." That Sanzo had managed a block was impressive, though Homura was hardly using the full measure of his power. He didn't actually want the man to actually die, after all. He simply needed to apply enough force to throughly discourage Sanzo from venturing beyond his door.

Or at least to knock the monk out. Homura wasn't quite so foolish as to think Sanzo would give up so readily, even in the face of certain defeat.

He walked casually into the hallway, crossing over to where the man was still standing. "You do realize that it's futile, don't you? Despite how hard you fight or how much you struggle, you simply can't win. The only reason you're alive now is because they will it to be." The gods, the Institue. "Continuing to struggle will only make your agony that much worse in the end. Give in, Konzen."

Edited 2009-04-19 09:02 (UTC)

Sanzo's shoulders shook as he coughed, trying to force the air back in. He leaned heavily on the wall, attempted to pull himself up with it and just barely succeeding. There was a sharp pain from his side, his breath remaining short despite his best efforts.

Cracked ribs? Hard to tell just right now. Sanzo's mind was racing, still reeling from the blow and the fact that Homura had somehow gained powers he'd never seen before. Suddenly the god that Sanzo hadn't quite believed he was earlier.

All the monk knew was that bullets weren't going to work on him. The paralyzing tantra? Who knew. Even if it had, what then? Sanzo was pretty sure it'd be useless, unless he planned on bailing. And he wasn't about to.

How the hell did you kill this man?

He wasn't about to give up. The monk scowled at Homura's words. He was alive because he had a will to live; the bastard was full of it. He wasn't under the the gods' thumb, or the institute's. And he'd keep on fighting. He wasn't about to roll over just because it looked grim.

"No one controls whether I live or die. I do, " Sanzo managed. "Go fuck yourself." He straightened a little further, eyes on him. He began chanting under his breath, although it wasn't the same one he'd used on the bastard before. The sutra had been strangely quiet after the arena, but it was worth a shot.

The insult inspired little more than a widening smirk; certainly Homura didn't go do as Sanzo suggested. It made him sorry that he had other things to move on to. Sanzo wouldn't remember what Homura said, but it still held true. When something was so fun, it made a person want to stretch it out. That reason alone was almost tempting enough to not knock out the monk completely, and to give the man opportunity to pursue him.

But Homura had a task to complete, and letting patients roam the halls as they pleased went against his orders.

"Do you really think it will work this time, Konzen?" Homura recognized the quiet sounds of a tantra, but the attempt was laughable at best. Even the power of Sanzo's sutra could be resisted with enough strength, though the demi-god was willing to let the man have a try. Only an utterly crushing defeat stood a chance of convincing this man--and the likeliness of success was minimal even then.

The son of a bitch was just standing back. He wasn't even trying to stop it this time, so secure in his powers.

Even as the last words of the mantra came tumbling out, Sanzo knew something was wrong. Something that didn't have to do with Homura's powers. There wasn't any building power flowing from his body and the sutra jointly. Even when he finished the chant, there wasn't any explosion of light.

Nothing happened. The scripture remained where it was, cold and unresponsive. Despite himself, a chill went down his spine.

The sutra wasn't responding. The gun was, but was doing jackshit against the god. There weren't many options left, but there wasn't any way in hell he was just going to leave, give up on this. Homura had done too much shit to let him live.

Sanzo lunged forward, pushing down the sudden stab of pain from his ribs, swinging at Homura.

So something had gone wrong with the sutra, and the burst of power that had once accompanied the chant had somehow been stolen away. Homura was curious, but not surprised. He'd told the monk his battle was futile, and this only further illustrated the point.

Yet even so, Sanzo still lashed out. Homura couldn't deny his delight as the man tried to land a strike, and he was almost tempted to let him land the hit. But Sanzo wasn't one to appreciate pity, so Homura reached up, catching the monk's wrist in a firm grip.

"You'll have to do better than that if you want to strike me." Maybe if Son Goku were there, then they would stand a chance. As it was, however, with his power gone, his sutra sealed, and his gun ineffective, it was only a matter of time before this battle ended, and the length was entirely left to Homura's discretion.

"So what will you do now, Konzen?" Homura kept hold of the monk's arm, meeting his eyes with an arrogant gaze. "What can you possibly hope to do as you are?"

Sanzo tried to jerk his wrist out of Homura's grasp, but he might as well have tried pulling steel apart. He let out an angry breath. Homura was giving him that look, the one that grated his nerves raw; it was almost as if the god was fucking indulging him. Sanzo's jaw clenched as he spoke.

It was a good question, because as his options went, they were growing fewer by the second. This wasn't only getting worse. The priest was becoming more and more aware of just how outmatched he was right now, and it only made him more frustrated. He might be stronger than most humans - enough that youkai usually didn't take him lightly - but he was still mortal. There wasn't any way he could match this speed or strength.

The question was could he do right now. He couldn't afford to let Homura keep playing his games. He had to try something else; anything to throw him off balance.

"What would that Rinrei bitch think about this?" Sanzo sneered. "Or do you feed her the same shit you feed everyone else here, and she actually believes it."

It was a shot in the dark; he didn't know if the name really meant that much to him or not. Sanzo had only seen Homura asking for that name on the bulletin board once, and then there was that patient file of his with the name 'Lilly' being connected with him; the name had been pretty damn prominent, even if the cover story was fake.

Homura was always one arrogant, even tempered asshole; he always seemed so secure in his power. If the monk could make him lose his cool, he might have more of a chance. People did stupid shit when their control slipped. It wouldn't be the first time he provoked someone.

The monk jerked a knee towards Homura, trying to catch him by surprise.

Few things could rile Homura enough that he would actually give eagerly in to his temper. Out of control emotions created risks on the battlefield, and Homura had long since learned to show no sign of his doubt or his rage. Doing so only provided an opening to the enemy, a way for them to worm inside of his mind and disrupt his focus. But even as good as he was, Homura still had those triggers, just like any fighter, be they god or mortal.

And with three words, Sanzo struck one of his.

That Rinrei bitch. The words all but echoed through Homura's mind, and before Sanzo's knee had a chance to connect, Homura shoved the monk back hard against the wall by pushing with his free hand against his chest. Though he released Sanzo's wrist in the process, there was no chance for recovery; Homura immediately came at the monk, slamming his knee with full force into the man's stomach.

"Can you still hear me, Konzen?" Gripping the monk by the neck, Homura stepped closer, his voice low enough for only the two of them to hear. The anger in his words was thinly veiled, perhaps tempered only because he spoke through nearly clenched teeth. "That woman is the one I was willing to destroy the world for. Don't think I won't destroy you as well."

Homura'd definitely had a chink in that armor. He wasn't as invulnerable as he wanted people to believe.

Except he'd acted far faster than he'd expected. There wasn't even any time to exploit that weakness.

Homura had managed to beat that hit as if it was nothing. The god slammed him backwards. Sanzo hit the wall again, harder than before, the wind knocked out of him for the second time, ribs flaring in pain. There wasn't even a chance to try and block. The monk didn't even see the next blow coming until it hit him.

Nothing prepared him for the burst of agony that followed as Homura's knee came crashing into the lightsaber wound. It was like someone had flipped a switch, the sudden shock of pain too much. His vision greyed out, blackening, even as his limbs seemed to lose feeling. The monk's legs suddenly gave out. Sanzo started to sag. The only thing keeping him up was Homura's hand around his neck.

Homura was talking, saying something low in his ear. Sanzo could barely understand it through the pain, consciousness weaving in and out.

'You-you did a piss poor job of it," Sanzo gasped out raggedly.

[peeking in from here]

One of the nearby doors opened just a portion. Klavier carefully stuck his head and one shoulder out the doorway, just enough to look around. If the fight had stopped, someone might be lying nearby, hurt.

Instead, he could see two men standing right there, one beaten and looking like he was about to collapse in the grip of the obvious instigator. This didn't even look like a fight. It just looked like assault.

He'd told his brother he was only going t look. That was all. But seeing this scene was enough to make his blood boil. "What are you doing?! Let him go!"

In spite of himself, Homura grinned as Sanzo managed to spit out his insult, if only just barely before he fell completely limp. The man was still breathing, and he only had Homura to thank for it; the man chose to obey his orders, and to show the monk mercy. Not that it would be seen that way.

"That part of you will never change." Homura spoke softly to the unconscious man just as a door opened, and someone he didn't recognize peered out. A moment later the stranger was in the hall, yelling at Homura to release Sanzo.

"As you wish." Chuckling lightly, Homura dropped Sanzo to the ground before he turned to this newcomer. "Since you seem determined to play the hero, I'll leave him to you. He'll need treatment for his ribs. No doubt they're broken."

Homura glanced back into M13 then, but after a moment, decided to leave his sword. He wouldn't need it tonight against any of the opponents he'd be facing.

He turned then to head down the hall, but after a step, tlanced back at the man over his shoulder. "If he wakes up again this night, tell him I'll be close by. I doubt I'll move beyond the Western Hall. If he looks for fire, he should be able to find me, if he wishes."

Though Homura had no doubt that Sanzo would.

Klavier looked the antagonistic man over, but couldn't find a gun on him. He didn't seem to be holding anything other than the other man. That quickly changed as he let the poor guy fall to ground, limp. Obviously, he wasn't conscious anymore.

He planned to keep his promise and not throw himself into anything, but he wasn't going to leave the victim outside in the hallway. With everything that was supposedly crawling around, he'd be dead for certain. Klavier never moved his eyes from the assailant, watching to see if he'd suddenly pull something out. Instead, he seemed to be ready to leave entirely.

Quickly leaving his spot, he moved toward the injured man. Dammit... Broken ribs. He knew nothing outside basic medicine. He couldn't fix an internal injury. As soon as the assailant stopped in his tracks, Klavier did the same.

He glanced down at the injured man. He was close enough to grab hi-- The gun! There it was, lying on the ground right next to the victim. Klavier grabbed it quickly so no one else would get the chance to shoot it again (though he was obviously not holding it for use). The other hand grabbed the back of the man's collar.

"...I think you've done enough. You shouldn't be wasting your time fighting with other patients. Use your energy to find a way out of here!" It wasn't very smart to heckle with someone like this, especially if they were the violent type, but if the guy was just going to stand there, it was better to occupy his mind with conversation than let him stew long enough to get ideas.

Still keeping his eyes on the assailant in case of any sudden movement, Klavier grabbed the injured man under each armpit and proceeded to drag him into room M12.

[Rawr! And back into here]

Edited 2009-04-20 07:36 (UTC)

Klavier was safer than he realized; Homura had little interest in fighting with a patient who couldn't (or wouldn't) even hold a gun properly in the face of a threat. Besides, there were other groups gathering that had to be halted that night. It was Homura's fault for calling them together, and now the task fell on him to take them apart.

He only let out a quiet laugh in reply to the man's harsh words, and resumed his walk down the hall. He walked without fear in his stride, without the typical caution most took in these darkened hallways. For Homura on this night, there was a mission, and anything that hindered his goals amounted to little more than an annoyance to be removed.

[And going to here]

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Nightshift 40: M11-M20 Hallway

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