NIGHTSHIFT 43: M1 - M10 CORRIDOR

[stiffserpent.livejournal.com]

Ignoring the pain in his broken arm, Snake crept along the hallway. He had brought only the matches and hairspray with him, hooked into the band of his pants, needing no light. His feet made no sound. Even that vision of the corridor earlier hadn't phased him like his much-loved old Outer Heaven flashbacks usually did, as he was far too focused on his mission.

He had been checking the men's block rooms, one at a time. Most of them were vacated; some were not, and even the sounds of movement inside those ones were enough to reassure him that they were not the rooms that belonged to Big Boss.

Systematically, he started down the furthest corridor in the block to the south of his own, starting with room M10. The door was, of course, unlocked, and he cautiously pushed it open. Like many of the others, it seemed empty, but for less than a second he caught a trace of Big Boss's smell. It was enough to lure him into the room, even though no-one was visible. Had he imagined it?

[M10]

Comments

M8

[whos-da-man.livejournal.com]

Junpei was restless, he was in pain, and he was hungry. Out of all three, the last was the one that bothered him the most. He'd eaten all of his dinner, every last bit, just in case having a full stomach would stop him from wanting to find a midnight snack. He'd been wrong and the dull ache in his stomach was almost too much for him.

He wasn't going to admit it, but he was scared. What if he couldn't control himself? What if he bit Chidori? Even worse, what if he bit Ryouji and it got taken in the wrong way?

Baseball bat resting on his lap, Junpei purposefully avoided looking at the rotting mass that was his ankle. His other foot bounced impatiently as he waited for Ryouji to show up. This totally blew.

M10

[pseudovirtueman.livejournal.com]

At first glance, the room was perfectly silent -- and empty. It was the one Big Boss had awoken in just a couple of hours ago, at noon on the same day, and which he apparently shared with another guy who's acquaintance he hadn't been able to make yet. But it wasn't like he would have been interested either way. There were other people he had to take care of first.

He could almost smell Snake approaching from a mile away, and it came as no surprise to him. According to all the explanations he had gotten so far, and what he'd been able to read on the bulletin board, all doors were open and no one was under surveillance of the nurses at night. Snake would take his chances.

So would Big Boss. He watched him attentively from his corner, making no sound. Like a moth to the flame. Even though it was dark, it was easy to identify the other man. The limp arm in the sling was a pretty good indicator already, if you disregarded his build and the whole way he moved. Lightly, treading carefully, techniques Big Boss knew all too well. However did he find out where his former commander roomed, though?

Details. He would have found his way anyway. They were alone now, and could continue where they had left off. The monsters would have to stay outside tonight; and he wouldn't let anyone else interfere, either. Once they had settled this score, he (they?) could move onto other things. Eventually.

It was stupid to act like this, but neither of them was known to act very rational when dealing with obsession and certain other, pressing urges. The door Snake had just walked through slammed shut with a bang that might have been heard by anyone who was currently in the block. As soon as his copy turned to check what had caused the noise, Big Boss struck, right where it hurt the most -- his shoulder, and executed a CQC throw which would land Snake face-first -- arm first -- on the hard ground.

Re: M10

[stiffserpent.livejournal.com]

Snake landed on his right with a roar of pain, his legs arching against the floor as spasms of agony rolled up and down his side.

No! he screamed internally, I can't let myself be useless again!

Panting, he rocked onto his left shoulder, and did his best to roll himself to his feet.

Re: M10

[pseudovirtueman.livejournal.com]

A futile effort, considering Big Boss was down and next to him within a second. If he'd been smart, Snake would have rolled to the side and out of the way; like this, it was easy to pin him by sitting on his legs. And exert some more pressure on his broken arm and shoulder, which should keep him down. His left fist was sent flying into Snake's face, aiming for his nose.

"I see you still can't stay away from me," Big Boss spoke, just a hint of strain in his voice, but he wasn't gasping for air. "Those two years you spent looking for us must have been hell." He calmly, precisely punched Snake in the stomach, and then reached for the collar of his shirt. It was faster like this, and would save them both time by not having to fight with the sling, too, or any of his arms.

"I know what you did during your stay with the CIA, Snake. Why you really came to Zanzibar -- not because you had no other choice. Same reason why you came here tonight." From the corner of his eye, he noticed a small package slip out from Snake's waist, and something else roll onto the floor. Hm?

Re: M10

[stiffserpent.livejournal.com]

Snake rolled with Big Boss's blow, minimising the damage to his nose, but it was bad enough - the halves of the recent break were sent askew again, and his head burst with white stars. His body curled into a C as Big Boss struck his stomach, and he took the opening to fight - clawing with his left hand, lunging in with his head to bite at Big Boss's face. But he was overpowered easily, and there was nothing at all he could do.

"You - know what I did in the CIA?" he gasped, swallowing blood. "Funny how you - only mention that once you've got me pinned down, huh?"

He laughed. It was all bravado, an attempt to distract him from what had fallen to the floor, but it was too late. He followed Big Boss's gaze to the can of hairspray, the matchbook folded around it. Terror spiked up in his chest, and he felt sweat immediately prickle all over his torso, damp underneath his tightening shirt.

Leaving M2 [after Howl]

[kindalikedit]

Dean still didn't know what to make of Howell. He hadn't exactly got used to Angel, either, and it wasn't like he'd had time to. Spending all these years on the road, getting cramped into motel after motel with Sam and Dad, and then just Sam, Dean was still getting used to the idea of having a guy sharing the room who wasn't his brother. It was kinda weird to be actually missing the days where you got into stupid fights about who got the best bed and if a sink was a good place to hang your socks (Dean's opinion was yeah it was, 'cause where else was he gonna hang 'em?). Howell seemed pretty sane, if a little bit...he didn't know, Dean couldn't really place his finger on it. Not all there? Then again, getting friggen kidnapped and waking up to find yourself in a place, and he couldn't blame him. Still, the fact was he didn't know just how trustworthy Howell was. He'd trusted Angel just enough to not go stabbing him in the back.

He waited until he had the room to himself before changing into his real clothes, glad to get rid of the patient get-up and feel like a normal guy, slipping his necklace over his head. Last night had somehow netted him a sheath for that bowie knife, but he wasn't gonna complain, instead strapping the belt around his waist and letting his leather jacket hang over it, concealing it just outta habit. Checking the flashlight, he found it was dead, but fishing around through the drawers, he came up with a spare pair.

There was a whole lot more crazy on the intercom from HAL. Dean wasn't sure what to make of it, except that he had some potential spirits he needed to take care of ASAP, and that would have to be enough for now. One thing at a time. The hunter geared up, splitting the salt he had into one of the patient shirts and bundling it up so he could carry it to Sam's room, before stepping outside.

[And Dean's off to here]

[lighthearted]

Sora had heard the rustling of Hanatarou getting dressed, making sure to wait until he was absolutely certain that his roommate was decent before he stood up from his seat and turned around to face the other boy. There was something about Hanatarou's tone that confused Sora.

"Does Arts and Crafts not want your help?" he asked with a tilt of his head. He'd never gotten that impression from the club leaders, though he realized that Hitsugaya was definitely the deadly serious type. Maybe the History Club people were a little more friendly.

Still, the shinigami were Hanatarou's friends, weren't they? It just didn't make much sense to Sora, and yet he didn't want to make his roommate uncomfortable...

It was at that point that the intercom came on -- it was still that computer, but it was different now. Sora realized he shouldn't have been that surprised by it (everything changed at night), but that didn't defeat the fact that it was creepy. The boy let out a sigh and went into his desk for his flashlight. Unsettling or not, he couldn't make Hitsugaya wait.

M7

[mitase.livejournal.com]

Hanatarou had started to fish his bag out of the back of the closet when Sora spoke, and froze in place as he tried to think of a good way to answer that. Or, at least, something that wouldn't be unnecessarily convoluted and confusing and didn't go into a lot of detail on just why he was completely and utterly useless most of the time.

Tonight was probably going to be the only time that the night announcement came as a relief, though, because it gave him an excuse to change the subject. He glanced up toward the speaker with a dismayed little squeak, then quickly grabbed the bag and sword and turned to fetch his flashlight as well.

"Um, I should get...and you have to meet the, the captain," he observed, awkwardly juggling what he was holding until he finally managed to get the bag slung into place. "Be careful tonight?"

M7

[lighthearted]

Sora didn't take Hanatarou's insistence that they get going as a way to avoid his earlier question, and so he gave a firm nod at the boy's suggestion. "I will be!" he chirped, though he already knew there was a chance that he would end up injured. He definitely wasn't going to want to let Hitsugaya get wounded after what had happened to him, after all. Still, he was going to do his best to avoid getting hurt, if only for the healer's sake.

As usual, his flashlight was the only thing he needed. Hitsugaya hadn't said that he should bring anything else, and so he started for the door, sending his roommate one last smile. "Good luck with whatever you're doing tonight!" He'd never gotten the full details on that, but he wasn't going to worry too much about it.

He flashed a wave at the other boy with his free hand and then exited the room and moved down the hall, having to skirt around a somewhat concerned-looking blue-haired man in the process. Sora hoped he wasn't in any kind of trouble, but he knew he couldn't spare the time to ask -- not when Hitsugaya was waiting!

[To here.]

[currently pacing between M4 and M9]

[oftemptation.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703812.html).]

For a moment, when Endrance rounded the corner, he looked away, flushing a moment. He wasn't entirely sure what was happening in the room at the end of that hallway, but it certainly sounded like...something that would be far too rude to give further thought to. He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away, then moved on, stopping just outside Haseo's room.

There was the moment's temptation to fling the door open, but Endrance really didn't think Haseo would take terribly kindly to that, given what had happened the last time. That gave him a moment to think, then, and he paced back and forth down the hallway, absorbed in thought. Who was it I sensed earlier? I still don't think it was Atoli...then, was it...

He thought back to everything Haseo had said that first morning at breakfast. If he went so far as to betray us all, then I can't put it past him - past this place? No, past him, to get at Haseo by acting like a visitor. That would explain the strong feeling...

Endrance sighed heavily. If this had been any other place, he would have been running the minute he'd felt that sensation. But as it was, what could he have done? The thought troubled him.

[coming out of M4 and awkwardly passing along]

[liveforthispart.livejournal.com]

Soon after the doors unlocked, Kanji headed out. It wasn't like he was in some kind of rush or was busy. Hell, he didn't even have a plan. But the last thing he wanted was for a repeat of that last time. He'd rather avoid having to watch... you know. That. Or whatever. At least, if he could help it.

And speak of the devil, as he was trying to remember which way he should be going to get out of the bedroom areas, his flashlight landed on that same blue-haired person from last time. At this point, it was kind of impossible for him to go unnoticed now. ...He didn't know why he was worrying about it. It's not like he was obligated to be nice to his roommate's... er, company. But somehow just walking off seemed like it wouldn't be right.

...But neither was just staring, which was what Kanji was doing. He glanced away, somewhat embarrassed. "Uh. Hey."

That pleasantry over and done with, Kanji turned and quickly walked down the hall, passing the other person awkwardly while not looking at them much.

[doo dee doo, oh! What's this place over here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702746.html?thread=57999386#t57999386)?]

[outside The Room of Death]

[feartehreaper.livejournal.com]

Despite specifically asking them to meet him, Haseo found himself reluctant when it came down to facing his allies. Before, he'd already felt somewhat guilty regarding the previous night, and after being both physically and emotionally knocked down by the Institute's shenanigans the entire day, in many ways he would have preferred to actually go through with just barring the door and staying there until things reset again.

And yet when Kanji left, the Adept Rogue found himself getting his things together anyway, trying to put aside his hesitation. In addition to Endrance and Tsukasa, he'd told Leon he would come by in order to obtain another sword. Plus... if he expected them to tell him things, then... he'd have to face his own problems, regardless of lack of resolution. There wasn't really a way around it.

There was a slight problem in that with the sword and knife he already had, he really didn't have the handspace to carry the flashlight or much else as well. Considering his friends were likely to have their own and were supposed to meet him nearby though, he passed it by and entered the hall. He caught the beam of a flashlight and stood silent, recognizing Endrance but... not really willing to say anything until he was noticed in return.

[leaving M5]

[spiritrepellent.livejournal.com]

There was an announcement that sounded like some sort of computer malfunction, something Doumeki didn't particularly understand. Something about a password denied...

Brushing it off (though he noted it, in case it was important), he stood, his brows furrowed as he heard the doors unlock. Waiting for a while before he decided to try it, he got up and crossed to the door, pushing it open. He emerged into a hallway, with a dead end at one end, and the entrance to another hallway.

With only a moment's hesitation, eyes flicking back and forth at the strange shapes he could see out of the corners of his eyes - something he was used to, to some extent, since he'd started sharing vision with Watanuki - he started toward the next hallway. Perhaps he could learn more about this place.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702746.html?thread=57894170#t57894170)]

[141-12.livejournal.com]

Otacon stepped out of M3 just seconds after the echoing bang sounded nearby — too close nearby. He froze in front of his door, but there were no other noises except other patients going through the dark hallway, and snatches of conversation coming out of the rooms. No one else seemed perturbed by the slamming sound, and why would they? It was a textbook horror game tactic to freak out players with random loud background noises.

It's nothing, Otacon told himself, then added self-deprecatingly: You're getting old. It didn't do much to settle his nerves (which had little to do with the Silent Hill-esque ambiance, as much as he didn't want to think about it), but it was enough to get him moving. He switched on his flashlight and walked swiftly—

—only to stop again when he heard a yell a few doors down, the same yell he'd heard countless times before screaming into his ear over the Codec. The words must be my imagination flickered through Otacon's head, but this time, he didn't smile.

Something was definitely wrong.

[prisonerofdeath.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/705712.html?thread=57919920#t57919920)]

The institute was eerie tonight, and Fox wondered if he was seeing things. He thought he'd seen a hallway that he knew wasn't there, and he hadn't felt or seen the hallway in the sense provided by his implants. It had just made him move along even more quickly. He knew the corridors and hallways of the patient rooms fairly well, and Fox recalled that Otacon had been in this hallway the last time he had been in here.

After having just been thinking about him, Fox was very surprised to see Otacon in the hallway here. "Otacon," Fox called softly, lowering his sword slightly. The hallway wasn't quiet, it sounded like there were people doing something in their rooms, and he thought he'd heard noise coming from M10. "What are you doing tonight?" Otacon looked worried, although it was hard to tell. The flashlight was providing light, but it was aimed in his general direction and that made it much more difficult to determine expression. Otacon's body language was fairly easy to interpret, though.

[141-12.livejournal.com]

The flashlight in Otacon's hand jerked up instinctively at his approach, but he quickly lowered it again when he made out Fox's dark outline and now familiar voice. His eyes widened a little at the sight of the metal sword, and he briefly flashed back to the actual first time they met, nine years ago, a cyborg ninja and terrified engineer. In different circumstances, Otacon might've smiled at the way things had changed, and the few ways they hadn't.

Right now, however, the memories at the forefront of his mind were of a broken arm and a broken face, and the distant glint of sunlight coming off two primitive but dangerous-looking robotic arms. "Fox," said Otacon, voice full of urgency. "Where's Big Boss? Snake's planning to see him tonight." He looked past him back down the corridor, and angled the flashlight beam towards the doors. "Or... he might've already found him."

Leaving M2 [before Dean]

[slipperymagic.livejournal.com]

Howl excused himself as soon as the doors opened. His roommate was not the friendliest individual, but that actually won him a few points. It was a bit of a reprieve to spend time with someone who was not interested in pressing Howl for detailed information, and didn't seem interested in overtures of friendship. It gave him time to relax and prepare for the meeting with Ryuuzaki, who was full of questions. He was practically bubbling over with them.

Howl sighed heavily, and in the darkness allowed himself to look as miserable as he felt. Light, journal, makeshift ruler, pens... It was a sad set of supplies for what he needed to do, but it would have to suffice.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703215.html?thread=57968879#t57968879).]

Outside M1

[phasings]

[from here]

Why, oh why did it have to be at the other end of the hallway? The night had just started, and Kitty had already just about had it with all the hallways this hospital had. Oh well. It wasn't like she could do anything to change that, and she'd reached the room without running into anything mean or nasty along the way, so that was something to definitely be grateful for.

She ran along the length of the hall, passing a couple others along the way, before finally stopping in front of M1. Once there, it was all she could do to keep from simply going straight in. She often did that back home after all. But, Kitty reminded herself, this wasn't the Xavier Institute and there was no telling how Kurt's roommate would react to something like that. So, she raised a hand and knocked on the door instead.

"Kurt, you in there? It's Kitty."

[fuzzy-diablo.livejournal.com]

Kurt had spent most of dinner on the ceiling, curled into himself. Kon was gone, his nurse had told him as much. The first friend he'd made here, gone. The first person to look past the fur and see something unique and attractive. He suddenly felt scared and alone again, even though Kitty was here and Peter knew as well. But Kon had always been so adamant about Kurt's appearance, and so confident in himself, he'd been a beacon for Kurt's ongoing crusade for self-esteem.

But now he was gone, and now Kurt was spending the dinner shift on the ceiling crying a little. Kon had been a friend, and he was gone. There was nothing Kurt could do.

He shivered a little when the bracelet stopped functioning again, and he was blue and furry. His eyes glowed lamplike in the dark, allowing for near perfect nightvision.

When he heard the knock, he felt both relieved and a little embarrassed. There were wet trails in his fur--heading up his temples instead of down his cheeks. Yeah, this was weird.

"Hi Kitty, one second!" Kurt called, falling down off the ceiling. He bounded over to the door. "Brace yourself, the fuzzy dude is back," he said, opening the door.

[phasings]

Kitty shifted anxiously from one foot to the other, keeping her gaze on the door in front of her. She didn't want to risk seeing anymore... what were they called? Tricks of the (lack of) light? Glitches? Whatever those weird things had been. And the best way to do that, was to keep from looking around too much.

Thankfully she didn't have too long to wait before Kurt answered the door. It was rather surprising to see him back to his fuzzy self, given how many people were around. That was the main reason she hadn't thought twice about the way he had looked earlier that day. It was more difficult to see him at night when he was normal though, so maybe it was a smart move after all, if a little risky.

"Hey! It's great to see you again," she said, laughing and grinning a bit. At least until she took the time to really look, and notice the darker lines trailing upwards in his fur. She tilted her head, smile fading as she did so. "Is... everything all right?"

[world-makeover.livejournal.com]

True to his word, Dist had absolutely no intention of staying in his room all night. Once the door unlocked(and he located the flashlight in his room -- this place was weird) he made his way out into the hall. Finding nothing immediately interesting, he turned to head down the hall.

[stiffserpent.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/699228.html?thread=58431068#t58431068).]

Snake managed to make it to the opposite wall without passing out.

Touching the cold, slick outer wall with his chest, he gave a futile groan and collapsed bodily against it, sliding down to the floor. Rolling around as best as he could to sit up against the wall, he disgustingly imagined what he must look like right now - half-naked, face smashed in, torso bruised and criss-crossed in deep cuts, covered in grainy, clotting blood and reeking of his own piss. Some date that was.

The first thing he did was snap his thumb back into place with his teeth, biting down on it reflexively as it snapped back into place. He rolled it around in its socket a few times, and then a wave of dizziness caught him and he slumped against the wall, chin on his chest, breathing heavily. The walls around him appeared to be breathing in and out, heaving like his chest. That was a sign he'd lost a lot more blood that he ought to have done.

His eyes rolled from Big Boss's door to the dark stain on his pants to Otacon, and he eventually managed to say, "I told you not to come here. You put yourself in too much danger. What were you thinking?"

[141-12.livejournal.com]

"I was thinking that you're lucky to be alive," Otacon answered mildly as he knelt on the floor beside him. Snake looked even worse up close, but he'd seen the spray can in Big Boss' hands. Between this or what could've happened had Fox come in just a few seconds later, he'd take this.

Otacon reached out as if to touch Snake's left cheek (bruised, swollen, otherwise unmarred), but then seemed to think better of it and dropped his hand, going for his flashlight instead. He quickly shined it down both sides of the hallway — there were no zombies, unbelievably — then turned back to pan the light down Snake's body. The stink of urine was obvious enough even without visual confirmation, and he thought to make a comment before realizing that Snake wouldn't get the joke. Not that Otacon was in a joking mood, exactly; he just wanted to say something. Anything. Anything that wasn't lecturing, because that never did any good.

It suddenly seemed as though so much of their friendship was composed of Otacon watching Snake get hurt, or watching Snake have to push himself to the limits of his endurance. Objectively, he knew there had been far more in their relationship than just that, but it was hard to remember when Snake was threatening to bleed to death right in front of him. Then again, this wasn't even the worst state Otacon had seen him in, nor was it even first time they'd been stranded in enemy territory with barely any tools at their disposal.

One thing at a time. There was bruising on Snake's shoulder which suggested a break in his clavicle (oh please no), but Otacon ignored it in favour of the cuts in his chest, patterned on top of the old scars he'd seen many times before. He set the still-lit flashlight down and pulled off his T-shirt, folding it over to staunch the worst of the bleeding. He tore up the rags of Snake's shirt next to make bandages, which would have to do until they got to M3.

"If you want to blame someone, blame them for rooming Big Boss in my hallway," said Otacon as he worked. "I would've never heard your screams otherwise. Or maybe you can blame your future alternate self for telling me that you have to be able to protect the ones you love." He carefully pulled Snake's left arm over his shoulders, and put an arm around his waist. His skin was starting to feel clammy. Not good. "Let's go. It's not safe out here."

M9

[sir-savien.livejournal.com]

Some time after Tsukasa left, before leaving their room Kvothe reached under his pillow for his flashlight and grasped the hilt of the knife he'd found the night before instead. He grinned fiercely to himself and went to the closet to find something to use as a sheath and discovered the green coat he'd been wearing had somehow turned up there as well, and it hadn't suffered to badly while escaping from the zombies. He pulled it on and grabbed a sweater, the end of a sleeve once cut off and the end tied made a passable bag for the blade. He was ignoring the strange sounds and voices over the intercom as best he could, they were incredibly unsettling but so were most things about this place.

Something about the atmosphere seemed even more oppressive than usual as he moved out into the hallway. The darkness was more oppressive than usual, his skin crawled like he was being watched but when he shown his flashlight nothing was there. Surely he'd only imagined the flicker of movement, the barely seen glint of the beam off a nightmareish smile. It was all in his head.

Until he turned back around and there was a man standing in front of him. He took a startled step back, eyes wide with disbelief. No, it couldn't be. His father died when he was twelve. He tried to speak but his throat was too tight, his hand shook...and when the light returned to where the man was standing there was nothing there. He desperately searched the hallway but couldn't find anyone. Or anything. Badly shaken, he returned to his room for the moment, needing a chance to collect himself. He pulled his coat more closely around himself as he sat on the bed, staring at the circle of light the flashlight beam made on the opposite wall, trying to ward off a chill that wasn't physical.

Re: M9

[sir-savien.livejournal.com]

He managed to not cover his ears to block out the recordings coming over the intercom but he couldn't as the volume grew, dissolving into screams, and all he could think of was one pleasant evening in spring when he had returned to the camp to find fires, the horses gone, Trip in his jester's motley and blood with his sword still in his hand, Shandi lying beside her fire and how when he'd brushed back her hair his hand had come away wet and red. He remembered noticing in the midst of the silent chaos that her potatoes had been done cooking. he'd taken them off the fire.

Flames burning blue, good metal rusted away, the closer he got...

Is this your parents' fire?

He curled in on himself, eyes tightly shut and hands pressed to his ears as if to block out the nightmare eyes and the voice that were only in his mind and his memories.

Someone's parents have been singing entirely the wrong sort of songs.

The flashlight fell from his lap with a thump and rolled under the bed. He didn't notice.

Is this your parents' fire?

Silently, he wept.