damned_institute | Night 41: M81-M90 Hallway

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Night 41: M81-M90 Hallway

S.T. woke in a rush from a dream involving playing referee to a wrestling match involving two topless girls and a leviathan-sized octopus waiting for a rematch with the Nautilus or the world's largest deep-fryer and dish of butter sauce. His fingers were in his mouth and he was trying to whistle, when the intercom took over the job.

He'd slept through dinner, and the smell of uneaten fish hung in the air. That explained the dreams, at least the parts involving sea life and condiments. He made short work of the potatoes and asparagus, washing them down with the ubiquitous and still-over-chlorinated, now-lukewarm tap water.

Opening the closet doors let out a gentle wave of aromatic brewing by-products; the beer was progressing. He picked up one small bottle without agitating the breadcrumbs off the bottom, and poured a small amount into the glass. Looked like beer, smelled like beer, tasted like flat beer and stale bread. He screwed the caps down on all of them, since it seemed like the time for explosions had passed.

Then he hunted down his toolbox and repacked. The syringes went back in the trash can, labeled and sorted. A spare t-shirt went in the toolbox, pre-emptive protection against bottle-rattling. The flashlight got a new layer of tape, and the glass cleaner went in its holster. Everything ship-shape, which meant it was time to shove off.

[to here]

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Belphegor nodded, the glare seeming to go right over his head. He continued to smile- almost creepy, by now- and shoved his hands in his pockets with a dull shrug. "I wouldn't dream of it. Where are we going?" Of course, knowing just what they were doing would probably be a little useful- Leon looked like a man on a mission, and Belphegor couldn't help but he a little curious... of course, only because he was starting to get bored, anyway.

Fake, creepy smiles were old hat for Leon. At least his roommate wore his insanity like a badge of honour, unlike Hugo, who hid every bit of his cruelty behind a perfect public facade of magnanimity. No, compared to Hugo, this idiot was transparent and predictable. Leon made a little hmph noise and tucked the kitchen knife--which he had been considering giving to his roommate--into the swordbelt along with the sword. Even if Leon couldn't dual-wield anymore, he wasn't going to put anything sharp in a madman's hands without some of assurances. "Someone I know from home is coming by, and I'm going to see about getting him armed."

That almost surprised Belphegor- from what he understood of this place, they took people from everywhere, and the likelihood of finding someone you knew seemed a little rare. Still, the idea of Squalo or Xanxus coming along to ruin his fun and give him orders- well, he didn't particularly mind, but it would be a bit of a drag, all the same.

"How sweet of you." He murmurs in a sickeningly cotton candy tone. "Looking after the weak, serving princes- well, you're just full of compassion. 'shishishi."

[[Wandering in from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/635651.html?thread=53715459#t53715459).]]

Aha! Room 86! He was polite enough to knock, calling in cheerfully, "Hey, Leon, it's me!" He'd probably be surprised to see Stahn already armed; just having a plain closet rod wouldn't work for too many fights, but it was something.

Leon's head snapped up, at that, and he all but shouted his retort at his roommate, "The only royalty I serve is the King of Seinegald! He has more royal grace and dignity than you can ever dream of, putting his people and his nation first, before his own selfish wishes! I pity the nation that spawned you, obviously it will fall into ruin the day you take the throne."

The knock on the door came just in time, too, preventing Leon from giving into his temper completely and throwing a punch at his roommate. "Stahn. Come in, it's open."

Belphegor flinched, but the motion was hidden behind a loud laugh as Leon completes his retort, shaking his head in mirth. He was about to say something scathing in return when the knock on the door came, and he glanced out towards the door curiously. Belphegor didn't say anything for a moment, before giggling in amusement.

"Ohh, another pauper? I can't waaaait to meet him."

Stahn wondered what exactly he was missing... he came in anyway, closet rod over his shoulder. "Hey." He was curious to see what Leon's weapon was, since he'd never asked, and was obviously surprised at what he saw. "That's not... Chalthier, is it?" The sword's grip looked a little different, and he didn't see any jewels, but it definitely looked like Leon's Swordian--and as far as Stahn knew, if Chal had died it had been with Leon. Which kind of didn't mean much here.

It was a long shot, but he missed all their Swordians, not just Dymlos, and Chalthier was the only one who might still be around.

"Don't be stupid. If I had Chal, I'd have been out of here ages ago." Leon would have reduced this place to rubble by now if he had access to his and Chaltier's full powers. "It's just a sword. I gave the smith a design that would be familiar and comfortable for me, that's all."

The pole--probably from the closet, from the looks of it--was a pleasant surprise, but Leon doubted it would last long against the monsters here. "There are sturdier things than that around, but it'll do for now. Stahn, this idiot is my roommate, who hasn't bothered to give me a name and seems insistent on following me around like a puppy tonight."

Bel tilted his head curiously at all the strange words, filing them away for analysis later. At the moment, all he could have surmised was that his roommate had a different sword at one point, and this other person was- like his roommate- an idiot.

At the introduction, he laughed and nodded his head once, smiling cockily. "Prince Belphegor. The prince. Nee, you look a little boring. How are you going to kill someone with that?" He points at the pole, the smile still ever-present on his lips. "I don't even think you could bludgeon someone to death with it. How boring."

"Boring?" Stahn echoed, puzzled. "It's not the greatest weapon, but it'll work in a fight." Just maybe not for very many.

It was a surprise to hear that the boy who'd just... kind of insulted him was a prince, but Stahn had met royalty before and wasn't exactly awed.

To Leon, "So... what's the plan?"

"Ignore him, he's insane." Leon dismissed his roommate's--Belphegor's--words and Stahn's mistaken attempt to respond to them with a wave of his hand, turning his attention instead to the matter of getting Stahn some better weaponry. "It depends on where the guardians are stationed tonight, but there are three main places people go for makeshift weapons. There are storage closets upstairs with metal pipes, a kitchen upstairs that sometimes has a knife or two, and a shed outside with sports equipment."

"Don't call me thaaat, it's hardly very nice." Belphegor comments at Leon's dismissal, smiling innocently. Though, at the next words, he can't help jumping up with a happy little sound- the sheer idea of knives, beautiful knives, just made his heart leap. He hated being so unarmed, so... defenseless, even for this little amount of time. Bel reached out to try and tug at the fabric of Leon's shirt like a child, asking for attention.

"Kitchen, we'll go there." His voice made it sound almost like an order.

Stahn wasn't sure why this... supposed prince was hanging onto Leon like that, but he knew that was not going to go over well. Trying to pull him away wouldn't either, though, so he decided to ignore it.

"Uh... so what's usually the safest way to go? I'm not sure how many battles this thing'll last through." His makeshift staff already had a few thin cracks in it from his attempts at yanking it out of the wall; something sturdier would definitely be good.

"... Don't touch me." Just when Leon thought his roommate couldn't possibly get any more annoying... there it was. Leon swatted irritably at the hand tugging on his shirt and explained impatiently, "There's no point going to the kitchen tonight. We've wasted too much time, someone else will already have raided it by now."

Trying to preserve what was left of his sanity, Leon turned his attention to Stahn's startlingly logical question. "Some areas are safe one night and not the next, it's hard to say. But the sports shed is closest, and most likely to still have some bats left."

Belphegor pulled his hand back as he was swatted away, laughing softly and chewing on his thumb- though he was more than slightly irked at the answer, and frowned a little in response. "You stupid pauper, why are you so slow?"

Another pause, before he decides that maybe a baseball bat would be fun- the rain brat from home was always toting one around, and he'd seen some of his co-workers beat people senseless with them. Still... it didn't offer him the distance he preferred, nor was it ideal for his level of physical strength... but if Leon really thought it would be wiser (not that Bel particularly trusted him), then there wasn't another solution. "Baseball bats it is, then~"

"...I wouldn't say that if I were you..." Stahn said, a little hesitantly. Leon was not slow by any stretch of the imagination, and he had a sword, and he probably still had a very nasty temper.

He agreed that they couldn't just abandon the guy, but this was kind of looking like not the best way to start out the night either.

Leon twitched violently, needing every ounce of his considerable willpower to keep from flying off the handle and attacking Belphegor. "Why am I so slow? Who exactly do you think has been delaying me, you wretched little moron?"

Turning on his heel and stalking out the door, Leon shot back over his shoulder, "Follow us if you want, but I'm not lifting one single finger to help you! Move it, Stahn!"

[this way! (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/630007.html?view=54002167#t54002167)]

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Night 41: M81-M90 Hallway

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