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damned_institute2009-08-29 09:52 pm
whiny-egomaniac.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2009-08-29 09:52 pm
Nightshift 43: Stairwell by Waiting Room/Lobby 1
[from here]
A sudden wave of fear washed over the Decepticon as his recently-injured foot hit the first step; granted, tonight was, as far as he could tell, no different from any other night here... but the events of the previous evening had had their impact upon him, as it doubtless had on the other patients. Thus, it was with quiet trepidation that he slowly made his way up the two flights of stairs, his back to the inner railing, the flashlight pointed forward with an occasional swing back to the ground floor.
His foot, though no longer in a cast, still ached if he placed too much pressure on it, and though he could walk just fine, he found the branch to serve as an excellent cane in times of particular pain. Perhaps I should fashion this into a proper staff at some point, he mused; it's certainly long enough, and from its heft, it does not appear as if it would break should its mass be decreased to a more manageable amount.
Reaching the top of the stairs after a few tense minutes, Starscream paused, sweeping his light around him. No one here yet, he thought to himself. Rather than stepping into the hall, however, he chose to wait just to the left of the doorway, light shining forward as he slid to a seated position, back to the wall. He held the branch vertically at his side; surely his anonymous companion would not mistake him for someone else now.
A sudden wave of fear washed over the Decepticon as his recently-injured foot hit the first step; granted, tonight was, as far as he could tell, no different from any other night here... but the events of the previous evening had had their impact upon him, as it doubtless had on the other patients. Thus, it was with quiet trepidation that he slowly made his way up the two flights of stairs, his back to the inner railing, the flashlight pointed forward with an occasional swing back to the ground floor.
His foot, though no longer in a cast, still ached if he placed too much pressure on it, and though he could walk just fine, he found the branch to serve as an excellent cane in times of particular pain. Perhaps I should fashion this into a proper staff at some point, he mused; it's certainly long enough, and from its heft, it does not appear as if it would break should its mass be decreased to a more manageable amount.
Reaching the top of the stairs after a few tense minutes, Starscream paused, sweeping his light around him. No one here yet, he thought to himself. Rather than stepping into the hall, however, he chose to wait just to the left of the doorway, light shining forward as he slid to a seated position, back to the wall. He held the branch vertically at his side; surely his anonymous companion would not mistake him for someone else now.
[at the base of the stairs]
Leonard reached the spot where he'd seen the door, tucking his journal into his pocket and putting a hand on the wall. The wall doesn't feel any different here. I know what I saw, though.
He shined his flashlight around the wall, looking for any sort of depressions or hint that this wasn't just some figment of his imagination.
[Unknowingly awaiting Utena]
Re: [at the base of the stairs]
Just as she was nearing the bottom of the stairwell, the intercom went off again. Utena slowed enough to listen to it. She felt hair rise on the back of her neck when the melody kicked in over the strings of code. Stop it, you're not gonna give in to him trying to creep you out! she told herself. Even as she thought this, though, she couldn't help feeling incredibly unnerved.
The melody gave way to a lower, but equally eerie sound as Utena reached the first step. She shivered physically. Though she couldn't make out quite what it was, it reminded her of faint shrieks and moans of agony long buried in her memory, their origin now unknown to her. She felt the same cold tightening in her chest hearing shrieks in her head as she had felt when thinking about the coffins earlier. Why was that? Utena strained to remember, but found that she couldn't make out anything clearly past a deep sense of uneasiness.
It took a few moments before Utena realized she had frozen in place with one foot on the bottom stair. She had unknowingly ended up next to a man checking over a wall, much the same way she had checked one coming out of the female patient block. She looked him over, not taking long to put two and two together. "You saw something too, didn't you?" she asked, moving her foot down and turning toward the man, trying to keep her voice from wavering. "So I'm not crazy, then."
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As much as he didn't want to admit it, Sam was right. Even knowing that any of the patients could be possessed was only half of the issue, the other with how many might have had a chunk taken outta them in Doyleton and might be turning tonight. Weird, he couldn't get over thinking they could turn, just like in the friggen movies. It wasn't very awesome when you were perfectly aware of the bandage on your brothers arm and hoping - for once - that whatever protected him from infection in Rivergrove would kick in here. Dean just nodded, although he glanced at his brother, mouth tightning into a thin line.
Seriously, after all of this was over, he was calling a few days - or week - vacation. Dean figured they earned that much, and maybe some time trying not to get killed would help him figure out just how he was going to break it to Sam about the deal.
Dean led the way to the stairs, keeping an eye out.
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There were no signs of inexplicable visions here. Javert shook his head slightly to clear it. Sometimes you saw these things after too many hours on patrols, alleys that hadn't been there before and doors leading to nowhere in particular. It generally meant you needed a day off, although it had certainly never happened to him.
In any case, a day off was, unfortunately, out of the question here. He kept moving; it wasn't far to walk anyway.
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Moving up along creaking floorboards and heavy shadows, it slowly dawned on the Maximal how well he was starting to know the place. The solid, confident gait he moved with came with experience, with knowledge of his surroundings.
Just whether that was a good thing, he couldn’t possibly say.
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It was a straight shot across the hall to the stairway, the sunroom on one side and a dead end on the other. Pretty much impossible to get lost. Badou squinted a little and tried to get his flashlight beam to reach a little further ahead.
"Since when was there a... hallway there. It's gone." Just stairs. An optical illusion maybe? "Did you just see something?"
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Dammit, she needed to stop thinking about gross stuff like that! Especially since the more she thought about it, the less gross - and more natural - it seemed to feel to her.
The stairs were dark as always, and Alkaid was passing the beam of her flashlight over the floor as she was prone to do. She cocked her head to the side when he stopped to stare. "Huh? Nope. ...Don't tell me you're goin' delusional on me!! One of us has gotta stay sane in this place."
She hopped up the stairs two at time and threw the door open. If there was something wrong with this particular area, the best idea was just to charge right past it. Right?
Right.
And she didn't want to see him, either. Not when she was thinking of him more as a meal than as a party member.
[manly strides over to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/708752.html)]
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As he lead his group up the stairs, Hitsugaya aimed his flashlight forward, making sure nothing lurked ahead of them. The stairway was a nicely cramped area for a group, a perfect spot for an ambush.
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Hitsugaya was wise to assign the formation he did. It was only logical for the best-equipped fighters to take the front and rear. While Faize couldn't fully shake his doubts about the youth, he was showing a fair amount of competence as a leader so far. Faize only hoped that his skills in symbology were not hindered too greatly, and that he would be able to provide backup should a fight be unavoidable.
The Eldarian followed behind the young captain, assisting with his flashlight. For the moment, it was the only way he could make himself useful to the group.
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When they reached the stairs, Rolo finally seemed to realize that he still didn't know his companion's name. Or it was more like he seemed to finally care that he still didn't have a name for her. "Woman" was a little too general if he wanted to find her again. He had a feeling she was following him purely on a whim, but if she ended up to be just a random stranger who meant him no harm, then it might be useful to travel with her again.
"... Do you have a name you're comfortable telling me?" It sounded like a weird way to ask a question, but Rolo was aware of how important names were when it came to hiding. He simply needed something more descriptive than "woman" to call her by.
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She shined her light up the stairs, uncaring about how it may affect the others in the stairwell that were not Rolo. She'd gone up this way in the morning to the religious chamber.
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Huh?
As Kuukaku approached the staircase (looked like the map had been right), she could've sworn she saw another hallway in the corner of her eye. But aiming the flashlight in the direction only revealed a wall. What the hell? She glanced over her shoulder for a moment, wondering if Gerad had seen the same thing, before shrugging and starting to climb the staircase.
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He'd not even had the time to respond before she'd made her way into the stairwell, so he chose to follow her without a word. Spicy as she may be, he couldn't leave a lady alone in a dark and possibly dangerous place like this. Even more, she seemed to know more about where they were headed than he did. He could use the help.
He kept behind her on the stairs, idly shining his light to survey the surroundings. Seeing doors and passages appear and disappear just out of his direct sight was starting to wear on his mind, but magic could have that effect sometimes. "Lady Kuukaku, what sort of supplies are you collecting?" he asked, wondering if they would collect anything that could be of use in his own endeavors.
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"You'll rest while we wait for the others." It was meant to be a question, but he didn't bother finishing it that way. What else was Homura going to do while they waited? He took the stairs two at a time, keeping pace just ahead of Homura.
"Will you let Hanatarou look at your injuries?" This time it was a question; whether Homura thought the healer should save his strength or if he thought he would be significantly hampered by what he'd received. War Princes could take a great deal of abuse, but sometimes that made it difficult to know your limits.
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"He can look, but it would be better if any work was done afterward." The wounds he'd sustained were nothing he couldn't fight with, and Homura would rather Hanatarou save his energy for anything more severe that might be incurred. A few scratches on his limbs weren't worth the life of someone else. He'd already asked Hanatarou to treat Taura, and even that was a risk.
Making his way to the top of the stairs, Homura opened the door to look down the hallway he'd selected as the meeting place. What he saw, however, was a scene that could only be caused by a brainwashed patient: the walls, ceiling, and floor were all covered by some sort of muscle. Homura let out a slight curse; whoever it was, they were obviously powerful. He didn't want to waste time or energy fighting with them.
"Change of plans. We'll have to go the long way around." It would take longer, but hopefully it would also prevent them from running into any obsticals such as this. Glancing at Nataku again, Homura paused, then let a slight smirk cross his lips. "But we'll still have to wait for the others to tell them. So if you wouldn't mind keeping guard, Nataku?" Homura moved against a wall, sinking down until he was sitting on the stairwell.
Only because he knew he needed the rest. Not because Nataku had given a mock order.
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The amount of people lingering around this staircase didn't quite improve things. Tenzen's eyes narrowed as he ascended the stairs, trying to keep his mind focussed upon anything that might be out of the ordinary instead of wondering how the skin of the man at the base of the staircase tasted.
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There were people in the way, but Yomi didn't care. She didn't acknowledge them as she blasted across the threshold, and up the stairs, legs pumping and ponytail flying. Having left what meager supplies she had in F7 (utterly forgotten when she'd sensed the impossible), she was without even a flashlight, but that didn't stop her or remotely slow her down.
If she wouldn't let the sesshouseki take her to Kagura, and the sesshouseki wouldn't let everything end where it should have, then--
Because of who she was and what she'd done, Yomi was as strong a runner as she was a fighter, and when she cleared the last step like a silent shot out of a cannon, she came to an immediate stop, not winded in the slightest. Part of it, too, was a craving for movement, for forgetting, for so much distance...
Her dark violet eyes pierced the darkness. There was a sitting figure to her left that stood out for the sole fact his stance was so defenceless. Likely someone waiting. "Are you the one who offered to help collect metal?" Yomi questioned, flat and to the point. If he asked, she wouldn't answer. She had nothing to say about what had happened between then and now.
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"I'll look over this incident only once," he spat out, the light passing over the human as if inspecting her slowly. She had nothing on her... this should be fun. "No one keeps the mighty Starscream waiting a second time and comes away unscathed."
The Decepticon pulled out the map of the second floor and thrust it between the two of them, illuminating its contents with his flashlight. "There are two restrooms up ahead, next to this hall. We can even reach the kitchen for extra materials..." And it might not hurt to have some readily-available weapons for myself, either, he thought to himself, an obvious smirk curling on his lips. "Either way, I will allow you to choose our destination."
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The interruption hadn't been unwanted--blowing past wasn't something she could've done--but nevertheless, exchanging information and introductions with Lockon had taken time.
Time the assassin would have to make up.
Quickly and silently, Tsubaki scouted out the inside of the stairwell, and once she confirmed it was clear, started up the stairs at a jog, staying out of the way of the others inside. Now that she was alone, though, the strangeness of the night at large was only that much more apparent. What was happening on the intercom now? It sounded like that automated voice was back, and... those other voices, getting louder. Tormented voices.
It made travel worse than ever, a worrying reminder of the night before. Everything felt... out of sorts. Maybe a part it was her, but she couldn't let personal matters or nerves get the best of her.
Still... what was this feeling?
[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/707046.html?thread=58906854#t58906854)]
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No... no, there he was, clear and sharp as a dagger. Xigbar could have sworn that was Xaldin himself, moving around as though he owned the place. Which, if he really was there, he surely would. Part of what made him so much fun; of all the Old Fogies, he was probably the most self-confident. Well, perhaps not that exactly, but he was certainly the most likely to strut.
The question was whether it was a ghost, a 'glitch' as Luxord called it, or not. Right now, Xigbar was just willing enough to bet that Xaldin had been dragged in like the rest of them. That was why he started taking the stairs two at a time, hoping to catch a real glimpse and make sure of who it was.
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"Are you quite alright?" he asked, though if that were actual concern bleeding into his voice, no one would be able to tell for sure. After all, he wasn't completely dastardly, just heartless. If his
onlydear friend were catching a fit of insanity, he would like to know first.(no subject)
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Lockdown shown his flashlight up the stairway, making sure there was nothing to get in his way.
Determining that it was safe enough, the bounty hunter went up.
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Heiji shined his light up the stairwell, then checked his map again for good measure. They were on the right track, but he didn't want to be slowed down by any unforeseen 'issues'. With teeth. Or claws. Or that breathed fire. Yes, better safe than sorry.
As the detectives began climbing the stairs, the intercom came on again. Frowning, Heiji shined his light on the stairs and kept moving at a steady pace. It was probably better if they listened to the announcements, but didn't really listen to them.
"Hope the guy's body is in here," Heiji said idly, trying to make conversation after the most recent Creepy Announcement From Your Local Glitchy Sponsor. "F'r all we know, it could still be in town."
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The detective shivered.
"I feel like I'm in a bad horror movie," he joked unconvincingly. His voice sounded small and hollow, even to his own ears. "Wonder who the red shirt is."
[going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/707046.html?thread=58827494#t58827494).]
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Come to think of it, Wally hadn't been upstairs of a night since his second night with Tony. Hopefully this one went a little better than 'chewed on by crazed midgets' at any rate. He'd hate to ruin a first date.
He looked back at Chihaya and smiled reassuringly. "Stay close, okay? I'll protect you if anything comes after us, don't worry."
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"Hm. I hope I can repay you sometime... This really means a lot to me."
He moved a little closer when told to, not really wanting to get attacked. So close now, that his other hand was holding onto the top of Wally's arm. Wally was pretty well built, definitely a good friend to have in this situation!
The intercom clicked back on with more of the frightening sounds. At first, Chihaya stopped, closing his eyes tight before he'd see shadows moving again, squeezing Wally's hand as tight at he could to block it all out.
"Um. C-can we hurry...?" he asked, releasing the hand from Wally's arm to rub his chest. He'd feel safer in the Chapel. He was just panicking....
Hearing voices. Janice.
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Concrete stairwells smelling like bile were not unusual for anyone who had attended an institution of higher learning. S.T. gritted his teeth and tried to avoid wasting any of his hard-earned beer. Either by puking it up or tripping on someone else's vomit and losing the bottle he'd brought for Spider.
[to here]
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As Joshua proceeded, he just... had to wonder. Something was going on here, and it felt too chaotic to be a well-planned deal. Too much screaming, too much running around...
...and then there was a massive shockwave, something that shook the Institute to the foundations and, Joshua was sure, would be quite unpleasant for those who were caught outside. For a moment, he was worried that the second floor might have caved in on top of them, but it held. For now.
After making sure, he grumbled under his breath, "He's just trying to show off now, I think. Either that, or he's just plain not in control anymore..."
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The shockwave caught him completely off-guard, and Sanae wobbled as he tried to keep his balance. Shit! The source seemed to be outside the building, but it'd been powerful enough to rock the entire building, which meant that someone had just used some serious firepower. Scary.
He happened to catch Joshua's mumbling. "If that was him showing off, I have to admit that we might have underestimated him a bit. But only just a bit." Spontaneous explosions were still rough, but they were a step up from just monsters running around.
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It only took Brainiac 5 a moment longer from limping out of the hallway to find the staircase in the dark, but his nerves were already on edge and trying to keep track of everything going on around him. It was too dark and there was no one else around. It would have been far too easy for Luxord to sneak up behind him again. He'd managed it in the day after all, and of a night he'd have the advantage of the darkness and his coat. And injured as he was, Brainiac 5 wouldn't be able to offer much by way of resistance.
His best bet was to keep moving and hope that he could find other people to further on that would deter the chance of attack--
There was a flicker of red up ahead and Brainiac 5 froze, half expecting to see Grell descending the staircase towards him, but what he saw instead was more startling.
"...Clark?"
His face was pale and drawn, with deep shadows under his eyes, but it was definitely him. Standing there. Watching him.
"Clark! How are you-- I thought--" he began, voice a mix of relief and elation and a crack that might have been the beginning of tears.
And then he realised what the splash of bright red he'd seen was. Blood. Leaking from the corner of Clark's mouth. Staining his shirt. Running down his arm. There was so much of it...
He felt faint, ill. Clark couldn't have, hadn't, survived those injuries. So how could he be here now? Unless...
He didn't get to finish the thought before the figure turned away and disappeared, and Brainiac 5 felt a gaping hole open in his stomach that had him scrambling up the stairs despite his painful foot. He had to know if it was really Clark or not. Had to find out what was going on and if, maybe, there was a chance to apologise.
[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/707046.html?thread=58836966#t58836966)]
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622 mounted the stairs, resolutely ignoring the flickers of half-seen images in his peripheral vision. They weren't there. This place was just finding new ways to turn his own senses against him.
He especially wouldn't let himself pay attention to anything that looked human. It would just be a trick. He had a mission to focus on, and he didn't have the time for distractions.
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