damned_institute | Night 43: F21-30 Hall

[in F22]

Falis was sitting on Senna's bed, her back to the wall with the shinigami laying against her, when the weird intercom thingie went off. She looked up at the little box for a moment before frowning. What the fuck had that been? Damnit! Where was Dominikov when she needed him to figure shit like this out for her?

A sharp pain ran through the hunter's left arm accompanied by a searing heat she recognized from the night before. It seemed peoples' fears were going to be true this night. Taking a peak at the flesh underneath her bandage, Falis grimaced seeing the decay return and it work its way up to her shoulder. At least it stopped there, but she wasn't sure it'd stay stopped all night long.

Her eyes slid back to the sleeping shinigami. Falis licked her lips. Damn, she looked and smelled... No. She was not going to do this. She was stronger that whatever fucked up zombie sickness. Senna was important to the hunter. She may be Falis' prey, but not prey like this. Resisting the hunger that lay in her stomach, she idly combed her finger through Senna's hair as she rest her head back against the wall and waited for people to show up or for the shinigami to wake.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well...that had been an interesting message. One that sounded as if IRIS was either malfunctioning or was purposefully hacked. And by M Landel - the Head Doctor. Franziska noted the announcement in her journal and then grabbed her supplies - the dog leash was found, surprisingly in her drawer where her pens were, and that was hung over her shoulder. Following that she got her flashlight, wished her roommate luck for the night and headed out.

Tonight of all nights, Franziska was busy - and she had to get the evidence needed before her father showed up. It would be disastrous to the case if it were allowed to be taken back, or worse, if her father insisted upon examining it himself. Turning on her flashlight, she moved down the hall, walking as fast as she could.

[going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/698992.html?thread=57834352#t57834352)]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/698992.html?thread=57897840#t57897840)]

And back to where she had started. Franziska opened the door and stalked in, looking around the room once before going over to her closet and setting the wrapped bat down inside. It would be best to hide it, but she had little to hide it with. The idea of dropping the jacket on top of it was weak to say the least, and she knew it would simply be too obvious. Franziska von Karma did not leave things lying about.

But now the thing was mostly hidden and she had things she needed to do. Opening her desk drawer, she pulled out the roll of pens and removed five of them. The ink in just one should be enough, but she wanted to be certain. Pulling her journal out from her waistband, she clipped the pens in a neat row, each spaced a perfect three centimeters apart, onto the cover and then took a deep breath. She wished she had a small dish to put the ink in, but for now, she'd have to make due. With that finished, Franziska grabbed her flashlight again, adjusted the leash over her shoulder, and left the room without a word.

[going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/699758.html?thread=57901678#t57901678)]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/699758.html?thread=58918254#t58918254)]

Back to her room. Franziska slipped inside and shut the door, leaning back against it with a sigh of something akin to relief. With no one here to watch her, to judge her every move, she could relax a little. She closed her eyes and let her breathing return to normal before she pushed away from the door and set her flashlight and her makeshift whip on the desk. The journal was laid down soon after and she checked the prints - still pristine as ever. Removing the paper trash from her pocket, she tossed that onto the desk as well. The help could take that away tomorrow since they so handily neglected to give them wastebaskets in the rooms.

Sitting at her desk, she flicked on the flashlight and stared at the prints. Her father's fingerprints, taken like he was some criminal. Which, he technically was. She should have been more willing to throw him away. To ignore his presence and dismiss him as a murderer to be prosecuted and yet, she was having problems. It should have been easy! So why was she--

"Bah!" Slamming her hands on the desk, she stood and opened her desk drawer. The fingerprint sheet was set inside and the she pulled the key out, locking the drawer soon after. There. The key was hidden in her clothing drawer and now...

Now she had to figure out how to create fingerprint powder. Taking her seat again, she put her hand in one hand. Edgeworth had given her some ideas, but she still needed to get those supplies. Opening her journal, she checked her 'shopping' list and frowned. "Starch powder, candles or..."

Night 43: F21-30 Hall

F23

Re: F23

Re: F23

Re: F23

Re: F23