damned_institute | Night 43: F1-10 Hall

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Night 43: F1-10 Hall

Breaking down the bed frame after she'd eaten some of her meal had given Teresa something to do while she waited for the night time phenomena to arrive. Having not been conscious when it occurred the previous night, she was curious. She was not disappointed. The overhead words were certainly something different.

As the door opened, Teresa finished wrapping shredded bedding around the bottom portion of the six foot long metal bar that had once been a main side support of the bed's frame. It wasn't good quality metal by any means, but it was better than nothing. At least, she didn't think it'd break the first time she hit something with it given her reduced strength. As she hefted the weapon, she swung it around to get a feel and decided that it would do for now. Should she manage to find the right kind of stone or a file, she could even work a rough edge onto it.

A few more strips of cloth and the hybrid tied the makeshift weapon across her back, the 'hilt' sticking a foot and a half above her shoulders, and fashioned the cloth so she could pull on the knot by her right shoulder for a quick release. That done, Teresa took her flashlight and exited the room.

[to here]

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Buried in her blankets, Sheena vaguely heard the intercoms go off. She ignored them, pulling the covers even tighter around her. She didn't care. She wasn't going to go anywhere. To hell with any plans she might have had, which she didn't remember anyways. She just couldn't make herself move.

Shifting a little, the bell jingled and the ninja pulled the covers up over her head leaving only the tail of her hair visible. Her pillow was soaked from her tears, but for now, she'd cried herself out.

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/698992.html?thread=57806960#t57806960)]

F4 was indeed down the last hall. Suzaku stopped outside the door, hesitating a second before knocking. It was a little weird to talk to someone so much over the bulletin, but never to their face. Yet Suzaku had the feeling Yuffie wasn't the kind of person who'd have a very different personality depending on the medium. She seemed pretty straightforward, just like Suzaku himself, which was probably why he liked her.

Pile of scrap metal pipes on the floor? Check.

Pile of thoroughly destroyed dresser drawer, also on the floor? Check.

Incriminating evidence, torn out of her journal and stuffed into the depths of her hip-pack? Check. And then check again for good measure, since it really wouldn't do for Sen to get her hands on that.

Yuffie nodded to herself, standing back with her hands planted firmly, casually on her hips. The knives were all in place, stowed carefully to be as inconspicuous as possible. The shuriken was now leaning precariously against the desk. On top of the desk sat her journal-slash-notebook, smug and open for all the world to read if only they knew Wutaian; her growing collection of origami (plus the get well card from 'Maddie'); the note from Mr. Faker, her flashlight, her jacket, and her ribbon.

Keeping an ear out for Suzaku, she slipped the jacket on. Next came the ribbon; fiddly as it was, wearing this outfit… it wouldn't feel right to leave off the seemingly random pink addition. In the midst of tying it, there came the sound of approaching footsteps, followed by a knock at the door. "C'mon in," she called. "The door won't bite. … I think."

Edited 2009-08-29 21:08 (UTC)

Typical answer for her. Suzaku opened the door and stepped in, glancing around. "Hey," he said, looking more at all the stuff on the floor than her. Were they really going to carry all that between the two of them? And as for how quickly it could all be turned into a weapon -- well, he'd seen stranger things. "Wow, what a mess."

And just like that, they hadn't even started talking and he already felt comfortable around her. It was strange how that worked sometimes. He looked up at her then, noticing a) that she was way too short to be older than him, and b) she was not wearing a stupid smiley face. "Where'd you get the clothes?" he asked, lowering his voice once he spotted her roommate still sleeping in the other bed. Though he found it hard to believe she could stay asleep with Yuffie moving all these pipes around.

Spinning around on the ball of her foot, Yuffie flashed a grin. "A mess? No way. This is progress!" Haphazard, in bits, all over the place - okay, maybe it was a bit of a mess, but it wasn't like it'd be there for very long. She eyed Suzaku speculatively through the darkness, sizing him up in a flash, and was almost immediately waltzing over to grab her shuriken. Something about him… for some reason, she could've sworn…

… Nah. No way.

"Y'know, that's a good question. It was kinda weird." Unlike Suzaku, she didn't bother altering her voice any. Sen was almost definitely faking it, and even if she wasn't, she didn't deserve the consideration. "I just looked in my closet one evening, and wham! There they were."

"Not that I'm complaining," she added, the comforting weight of her shuriken now securely in her left hand. "Cute, right?" Picking up the folded-over note, she paused, just briefly, before turning back to tonight's partner-in-crime. "Before we get goin', somebody wanted us to play messengers." If he'd paid any attention to the bulletin board during the third and fourth shifts, he'd probably be able to figure out what she meant.

Suzaku's lip twitched a bit. She had a funny definition of progress. Then again, any "progress" he tried to make in his own world usually ended up more like a gigantic, terrible mess. He still believed they could make progress even from the ashes of all their failure, but if Lelouch wasn't talking to him. . . Suzaku shut down that train of thought, as he'd had to do so many times that day. He wanted tonight to be efficient, and that meant ignoring all his frustration and focusing on business.

"Lucky," he said easily, though his voice wasn't as light as it might have been. "I'm not sure whether to believe you." He took a closer look at her clothes, noticing she had similar taste to Kallen when it came to the best clothes to fight in. If it weren't for the funny-looking jacket. . . Well, it was probably easier to move in less clothing.

His mood dipped again at the mention of a message. He did remember, now, and it would have been so much easier to get a message to Lelouch before their argument earlier. Suzaku struggled to keep his expression neutral, determined to leave those matters behind for tonight. "For Lelouch?" He paused a moment, holding out his hand. "I can give it to him, if you want." That would give him an excuse to talk to Lelouch, and maybe have another chance to make his case.

There it was again!

Right there! In his voice, 'specially when it dipped just so. Yuffie tipped her head, an odd expression flitting across her face. It was almost like last night, with Homura, but at the same time it wasn't, and… Sheesh, she was thinking way too much. "You're just jealous," she said primly, as though she'd had no thoughts whatsoever about him sounding eerily, creepily familiar. "I'd let you borrow them, but, well," another twirl, this time a two-step, "somehow, I don't think I'd get 'em back."

Still with that same smile on her face, she dropped the note into his hand. "Yup, if ya don't mind."

It was like nothing had ever happened; no special counselling, no zombie apocalypse, no underlying whiplash of panic at the constant presence of enemies, no visitor shift. Just Yuffie, doing what she did best. She slipped around him, keeping track of where her shuriken's blades were at all times - with such a large weapon, it was all too easy for to lose track. Or it would be, if she was an amateur.

"Ready to play pack mule?" She crouched to scoop up the pile of broken wood, and a long strip of torn bed sheet that'd been hidden under it. "I can get this, but I can't carry the rest unless I juggle. Which, on second thoughts, I could totally do." There was a brief pause, in which she appeared to deeply, honestly consider the idea.

Suzaku watched her bemusedly as she twirled around. It really was easy to relax around her, easy to forget everything else that had happened that day. Not that he could ever forget, but he could put it out of his mind for a while -- or at least, he could enjoy the moment. That's what it always been like at Ashford, even this year when he'd been so preoccupied with whether Lelouch was Zero or not.

"I don't think they'd fit," he said mildly. "Otherwise I might take you up on that." He kind of meant it, too, because unlike Lelouch he didn't have any reserves about crossdressing. It was fun, and while "fun" seemed a bit inappropriate right now, he always tried to appreciate it when it came along. Sort of. Sometimes. Maybe it would amuse Euphie, too.

He took the note and shoved it into his pocket, deciding to give the matter no further thought -- whoever that imposter was, Lelouch could deal with it, because he didn't need Suzaku's protection anyway. Suzaku also tucked the butcher knife into his waistband where it could be easily retrieved. The arrangement was a little precarious, but he'd be careful, not that he would really care if he managed to cut himself.

"Please don't." That couldn't end well, even if she knew what she was doing. "I'll carry the pipes." And with that, he bent down and picked up the pile other pile, having to shift some of them around so he could carry them all properly and still hold his flashlight. "Is that it?"

"They miii~iight," Yuffie drew out the word in sing-song. "Suzie, you are a rake. In this, we are twins, except for the part where you're like a bazillion inches taller than I am."

Mysteriously Nostalgic voice aside, maybe this wouldn't be as weird as she'd thought it might be. He really did have a sense of humour, just like on the bulletin board. He was also… shoving that knife where? Oh, man. If he lopped something off, she'd do nothing but laugh. A lot. "But since all this would require me stripping, let's move on," she continued, springing up and over to her desk. Awkwardly, with her arms full of stuff and one hand full of her ~~precious baby~~ weapon, she scooped up her flashlight.

A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed that the pipes were safe, and that Suzaku had managed to stand without losing anything, uh, precious. "That's it! Team Awesomesauce ready to commence Operation… Buttkicktastic, yeah." Out of the door she went.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/698992.html?thread=57836912#t57836912)]

The odd coincidences were piling atop each other one by one, with Suzaku of all people dropping by her room, and Yuffie giving him a note for Lelouch. Ayumu's assignments and enemies were all converging, with Lelouch and his allies and Yuffie and hers --

Which reminded her of just who one of Yuffie's particular friends was.

Himura Kenshin.

The text of the page Susu--Makoto had showed her flashed through Ayumu's memory, the words "Battle of Toba-Fushimi" all but outlined in white light. The hitokiri had to have been there, in whatever capacity; it was another reason to want to see the man dead, albeit one above and beyond the mere call of duty.

But. No. Homura had insisted on the truce, and she rather thought even this wouldn't count as sufficient provocation to satisfy him. She pushed down her emotional response (too little, too late) and forced herself to a state of calm, pulling her hair back into a knot and securing it in place with a pair of the pens.

She hadn't made any specific plans for the night - perhaps she could follow Suzaku and try to find out more about him. Or locate Lelouch and find out what was going on with him and this friend who had returned from the dead. Or even find Robin, and try to determine if he had any new information that she needed to pass on.

There were any number of things she could be doing, and they all required that she push aside what had happened and move on for now. She could deal with that later. For now, she needed to concentrate on her preparations, then head out.

After Captain Thorne had left, Taura had asked to return to her room; there was nothing she could do on crutches and under close supervision to aid her escape except to sleep, and sleep she had. She was naturally a light sleeper; under normal circumstances any one of a number of things should have woken her up -- the dinner intercom, the arrival of a second person in the room, even the faint click as the doors unlocked. Instead, she came to tangled in the sheets in an empty room. Two trays on two tables were the only addition to the room, but they told her enough.

How much have I missed? What wasn't she seeing. She couldn't blame it on the painkillers; her request for nothing stronger than a mild analgesic had been the exception that proved the rule -- faithfully honored.

She could only hope she hadn't slept through the healer's arrival as well; she hadn't slept through a successful treatment, as leaning over to snag her dinner sent muscles twanging like overstretched shock cords. All she could do was wait. And eat, which helped make the former more bearable.

[waiting for Hanatarou]

Miku had dressed in her normal clothing, and the landel's uniform was in a neat pile on her desk. It had felt... comforting, in a way, to be dressed like she would've been at home. The skirt was feeling a little looser, but it wasn't something that Miku would be unable to fix once she found a little sewing kit. She smoothed out the skirt, fixed her stockings and did up her hair in the big, heavy bun that nearly tipped her head back if she thought about it.

She laid on her bed and waited for Ritsuka, her flashlight off. If she pretended she wasn't waiting for anyone at all, maybe it would make them come sooner.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/698992.html?thread=57891952#t57891952)]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/699758.html?thread=57937518#t57937518)]

By the time Hanatarou arrived at the correct door (the note had said F8, right?) he was more than a little bit out of breath, but at least he'd managed to keep from getting eaten by a monster. Or, by some miracle, tripping and impaling himself on his own sword.

He paused a moment there, nervously brushing off his uniform before lifting a hand to give a hesitant rap against the door. He didn't even know who this person was that he was supposed to be helping - hopefully they weren't scary or anything.

"Door's unlocked, come on in," Taura called, loud enough to be heard through the door. She didn't get up, but she did move the now-empty tray off her lap and back onto the desk.

All right, so she was expecting someone, so hopefully it was the right place. Hanatarou cautiously opened the door and pushed it open, hovering uncertainly in the doorway as he peeked into the room. "Ah, are you...Taura-san?" he asked, ready to back out with an apology quickly if she wasn't. "I'm Yamada Hanatarou, the healer...?"

The young man at the door was small, even by normal standards, and looked spooked, despite the curving sword slung comfortably across his back. Taura waved him over.

"Yeah, I'm Taura. And I don't bite, unless you ask very nicely." She shot him a grin that verged on a leer -- sometimes that was all it took to defuse the tension. Though it usually wasn't medics she was trying to reassure; they tended to treat her as a puzzle, rather than a person or a monster. She wasn't sure what to expect from a magic doctor, though, except that Homura trusted him. "I guess I'm your patient for the evening."

"Um." Hanatarou blinked several times, then finally decided that was supposed to be some kind of a joke. He gave a weak, uncertain smile, then bobbed a kind of half-bow and moved closer, frowning slightly as he looked her over. He'd just been told that she needed a healer, but no details on exactly what needed to be healed.

Crutches weren't a good sign, though. Hopefully Kenren would be here soon; remembering when he'd healed Nataku, he might need help walking for a bit after this, if there was a broken bone involved. "So, ah, what exactly needs to be healed, Taura-san?"

[[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/698750.html?thread=57950846#t57950846).]]

Raine wondered at finding the door closed, but considering how fast she'd moved maybe Sheena was still getting dressed; so, to be polite, she knocked. "It's me," she called.

Silence. That was odd... "Sheena?" Still no response. Worried, Raine waited for a few heartbeats (...which wasn't saying much) and called, "I'm coming in." When there was no answer even to that, she opened the door.

She didn't see anyone at first; heart pounding, she reminded herself that Sheena's room could have been moved without any warning. It certainly wasn't unusual. And it was possible she was hiding in the closet to change, and thus hadn't heard anything...

Then her eyes landed on the bed, and the huddled body under the covers. And the tuft of hair sticking out. Was she asleep? "Sheena..." Raine came forward and touched her shoulder, gently enough to hopefully not startle her but not so light as to go unnoticed. "Are you awake?"

Sheena had vaguely heard the knock on the door and ignored it. She ignored the words from the other side of the door as well. She still didn't say anything when Raine came in, hoping her silence and lack of movement would convince the half-elf to just leave.

Nope. Not going to happen.

Sheena twitched when Raine touched her shoulder, that being the bitten shoulder, but didn't move. "Go away," she replied, her voice muffled by the covers over her head.

Raine moved her hand up to touch Sheena's head, trailing her fingers lightly over her hair. "What happened?" She'd heard the tears in Sheena's voice, muffled though it was, and whatever was upsetting the ninja this much, she wanted to know.

Oh, no... did she finally get hurt like she expected to? Just because she'd expected it didn't mean it hurt any less, in the end--especially in a first relationship. Depending on what had happened, Raine might end up going off to hurt someone herself.

She should have just feigned sleep. Raine would have gone away then. Still, the fingers in her hair was comforting.

The ninja curled herself into more of a ball under the covers, hugging the bell to her chest so tightly it didn't make a sound. She shook her head in response, completely incapable of voicing what was going on inside of both her mind and heart.

Raine pulled the covers down slightly, to get at Sheena's hair more easily--but she also tucked them in around her friend's shoulders. She was obviously very sad about something, and if she admitted to it or not, she needed comforting.

She just stroked Sheena's hair for a minute, hoping it would calm her. Only after her eyes adjusted did she see what might have been tear stains on Sheena's face; Raine briefly touched the pillow and found it damp.

When she'd found Genis like this, especially after Mithos' betrayal, he'd usually been willing to accept comfort after a token resistance, and telling her why he was so upset usually followed after a while. So for now, she simply kept up what she was doing, and waited.

"I'm not entirely sure, but I think there's a hairline fracture in here somewhere." One wide hand spread out over her right hip. "Or just a bad bruise, but I think it's worse than that. Not sure -- I'm still getting used to this body."

When had she become comfortable enough with it to describe it that way? Just this body, like this uniform or this mirror-shield. Could a healer see brain-transplant scars that might or might not even be there? And what would she gain from the knowledge; either way there were innocent deaths to avenge, now.

"Should I lie down?"

Her eyes were closed when Raine unearthed her head from the covers. Still, she turned her face more into the pillow, a part of her unwilling to show this level of weakness even to someone she trusted. Besides, it's not like Raine was the comforting type. Even so, her friend was doing an adequate job.

The thing that actually got Sheena to even consider responding was the fact that Raine didn't push her. She didn't ask anything, didn't try to engage her in conversation. She was just there. It was enough to make Sheena open her eyes and her hand just enough for Raine to see the bell. The motion cause the light, familiar jingle to sound and fresh tears welled up in Sheena's eyes.

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Night 43: F1-10 Hall

F2

Outside F4

Inside F4 :V

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F4 (after the others left)

F8

F1

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F8

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Re: F2

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