damned_institute | Night 43: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

Empty hallway, monster-wise. Minimum threat. Just so long as he kept up the basics, he could keep going. As for the frustration? Pounding it all out on the floor with his footsteps would have to do for now.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702705.html?thread=58123249#t58123249).]

The next hallway look almost identical to the last one. Tenpou put his hand in his pocket and took the opportunity to examine the hallway more closely, more openly than he had been allowing himself to. He had been so concerned with not looking out of his depth, he had been unwittingly putting himself in danger by not taking a full assessment of his surroundings. He couldn't find anything immediately hostile in this hallway. Still no sign of the monsters, although he wasn't going to push his luck by dwelling on that.

He moved on to the next doorway, still trusting his instincts, still hoping that it would pay off. Whatever this feeling was that was guiding him, it was a familiar one, one he had trusted so many times in the past. Although his mind was swimming far too much to connect what exactly the feeling was, he was fairly certain it had yielded great returns for him in the past.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703548.html?thread=58123836#t58123836).]

Edited 2009-09-01 17:15 (UTC)

Teisel wondered how Zex had been holding up the last couple nights without him. The guy seemed to have no shortage of allies, so of course he'd been fine, but he'd seemed a little withdrawn on the bulletin. It was hard to judge something like that from notes, though. It couldn't have been anything too bad; maybe he was just a little annoyed. Teisel had had limited experience with honest toil, but he did know that employers didn't take kindly to their drones up and missing work with no warning.

It wasn't like Teisel was getting paid, or anything. Zex had no right to get snippy with him.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702090.html?thread=58134922#t58134922)]

[To here.]

Rude had told him to meet here, so here he was. Reno still had no idea what this was really about, but almost ten years of Shin-Ra, and you kinda got used to running meetings that you weren't properly briefed on. Joys of bureaucracy.

Whatever. At least he trusted Rude a lot more than he trusted his bosses. Once-bosses. Or. Anyway.

He stepped up beside his partner. "You know who we're looking for?"

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/706079.html?view=58151967#t58151967)]

He jogged quickly along the corridor, hurrying to his meeting with Hanatarou and trying to forget the expression on Nataku's face. It wasn't working.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/699758.html?thread=58152558#t58152558)]

Edited 2009-09-02 02:25 (UTC)

((From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702746.html?thread=58160154#t58160154).))

As he stepped out into the next hallway, Spock noted that the odd images were not reducing, though they were not growing in intensity, either. In the meantime, he remained cautious, taking care to shine the beam from his light up and down the path so as to make sure he would not get ambushed. When he was certain the way was clear, Spock turned right and began walking toward the area the Captain had selected as their rendezvous point.

It was fortunate he'd discovered the extra pair of shoes, he silently noted. The slippers were impractical for long bouts of walking. Still, he had to wonder why Landel's saw the need to provide their prisoners with so many supplies. Did the behavior studies the automated system had alluded to include recording what sorts of items patients used during the nights?

With this thought in mind, Spock continued on his way.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703548.html?thread=58171964#t58171964).))

Edited 2009-09-02 05:39 (UTC)

Doumeki took a slight step back, his brows furrowing as the boy jumped back from him and pressed against the wall. Something was very obviously wrong - there was something entirely wrong about the sense he was getting from him too.

"What is it?" he asked, tilting his head, staring at him. Unfortunately, Doumeki wasn't the type to just keep walking. To him, the boy looked like he was in obvious distress, and this place...it was strange. Dark, and glitchy around the edges, things flitting in and out of vision. It wasn't safe here, and if this boy was sick, then he needed help.

"Do you need to be walked back to your room?" he asked, his voice low, leaning down to peer at him.

No. No, just keep going. I'll only try to eat you. "Y-yes. ...Yes, that would probably be best." Matt slumped in defeat. To the other boy, it would seem as though he was simply wary about accepting help.

All he had to do was find an empty room. It didn't have to be his own, would be better if it wasn't, actually. Hopefully the good Samaritan would survive, and in that case he wouldn't want him being able to find him at his room later. During the day the orderlies would at least be able to fend him off... "It's just back down that hallway."

This was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Doumeki could understand why someone in a place like this might be a bit reluctant to accept help, but thankfully the boy gave in. He gave a nod when he said it would be best to get back to his room.

"Alright. Which room are you in?" he asked, his voice low as if trying to avoid bringing too much attention to them. Probably a safe bet in a place like this.

Glancing down the hallway the boy had pointed out, Doumeki shifted to get his balance and held a hand out to the boy, "I'm Doumeki. What's your name?" he asked, since it was getting a bit troublesome to keep referring to him so generically. And it was only polite to introduce oneself first, after all.

"Robin." Matt thought quickly, trying to recall what rooms he saw people leaving from on the way out of his own. M58 was a no-go. There'd been a man heading in that one. M60 was also out - he'd seen that little blond kid there.

"My room is M57," he finally answered, recalling having seen it vacated by its two younger occupants. "I'm really sorry about this."

Of course, it wasn't the need for assistance he was apologizing for, but the terrible thing he'd yet to do.

"Good to meet you, Robin." Doumeki said, his voice still low to avoid detection from the other people - or, more importantly, the other things - that were lurking in the hallways. Doumeki himself was aware of the strange auras in the place, the sense of pressure, like there were spirits here, lurking out of his vision. It was why he hadn't bothered asking for Watanuki on the bulletin board. He could tell he wasn't here, because the spirits were invisible to him.

He was separated by at least one world, maybe many, from the objective he'd been working to complete for more than a year.

Glancing down at Robin, he took note of the room number, M57, in case he felt the need to check up on him later. The apology caught him almost off-guard, and he shook his head, "It's nothing."

Matt shuddered, then pulled away from the wall, still clutching his rotting arm.

"It's not too far."

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702705.html?thread=58184433#t58184433)]

[ From here. ]

Sylar paused for a split second as he stepped out into the main hallway. For a second, he'd thought he'd seen a new hallway stretching out from the wall opposite him, but... with the dark and general disorientation, he must've been seeing things. Probably the dark.

He clicked on his flashlight and directed it towards the area of interest. Yeah, no hall. Normally, he would have taken such a hallucination into serious consideration, but right now, as painful as it was to admit, he wasn't at his best and he never would be unless he started making some progress in this place.

Resolve strengthened, he glanced down one section of the corridor and then the other. One way led to the Rec Field and the Courtyard, and the other–

He froze.

The Courtyard.

That's right. He'd made a date with the bastard on the bulletin board who'd tried to call him out to a battle under the threat of revealing him to others. Sylar couldn't believe he'd forgotten, though given everything else he'd gone through tonight, he guessed he shouldn't have been surprised. Still, this was just one more problem on top of all the other things he was dealing with, and he was having trouble even remembering where–

Sylar's eyes widened and he swung around to point the beam of his flashlight down the other side of the hall.

He began walking, pace quick.

He wasn't sure why.

[ To here. ]

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

Rude shook his head. Or it twitched a little at least, but it was another of those things other Turks just understood. He'd practically needed his silence translated when meeting people from other departments. Unless he was interested enough to actually just talk.

And that just unsettled people.

He held the torch in his hand so he could extract the surgical spirit from the pile under his arm, which included the brandy and his notes. He held the spirit (the surgical one) out to Reno and rearranged himself, torch back in his hand.

"Wants this," he explained. It was only half full now and he didn't desperately need it. Besides, this was...you know... for Reno and stuff...because...yeah. So, whatever.

[ from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702705.html?thread=58206705#t58210289) ]

Rolo didn't entirely forget about the woman following him, catching himself before he slammed the door in her face. Not that she would be affected by such a thing, but he didn't want to risk getting caught by that thing again.

Now that he was out of that hallway and into a much warmer one, the color started to return to his face and he let out a breath, noting that his breath wasn't coming out in condensed puffs anymore. Making sure he still had everything (bat, flashlight, self), Rolo turned around to stare at the hall he just left.

What was that? Common sense told him to keep moving, but he decided to ask the woman he was traveling with if she had seen the creature. All he knew was that it probably was that strange flickering that he saw before...

Teresa did not halt once she passed the threshold, letting Rolo close the door on his own. She slowed down to a halt a few feet away and waited, his back to the boy and the child-phantom.

She decided she might have to hate this place on principle.

Hm, how to ask this. Rolo wasn't sure if it was appropriate to ask her what it was or if she saw it. It looked like a child, but it was clearly a ghost... yet it did something to him. The woman, on the other hand, looked unaffected. Rolo wasn't able to see if it did have an effect on her, since his back was turned on her the whole time.

Still... if nothing else, this was adequate proof that she wasn't going to kill him anytime soon. That was the best time to do it, when he wasn't able to react, and she hadn't. It did bother Rolo that only he seemed to be affected by that ghost-child and he swallowed his question, walking up to her and right past as he continued to go down the hallway.

"We wasted time. Let's go."

"How is your head?"

Teresa had yet to move, and she asked her question before the boy had gotten too far. Her voice was just as controlled as ever, but if Rolo was to look at her eyes, seriously look at them, he might see there was something in them.

Ah. She noticed.

Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, Rolo was not someone who looked deeply into things and he just shrugged in response. She was concerned? How thoughtful, he supposed. It meant little to him though, at the moment.

"It's fine. You don't seem like it bothered you," Rolo observed, however inaccurately since he only glanced at her face for a moment.

"No, it doesn't," Teresa replied. She'd learned a long time ago to hide the few things that got to her behind a calm facade. It was only ever the extremely perceptive that knew there was something in her eyes. In reality, she could only ever think of two, though Orsay had his moments of seeming like he did.

"If you are fine, we will move on before it chooses to not let the dead be," she commented, moving on to the adjoining hallway.

[to here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703548.html?page=2#comments)

[ From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/702705.html?thread=58221041#t58221041) ]

Hurrying his way down to the other end of the Ciel, once again tucked the map back into his pocket, seeing the door to the main hallway up ahead. He would just have to wait there until Sebastian came and hopefully avoid any mishaps. Luckily, the numbers were diluting already, fewer and fewer people crowding this section as everyone split up and went their own way.

[ To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703548.html?thread=58224188#t58224188) ]

Night 43: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

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