Nightshift 43: Main Hallway 2-Center

[constellates.livejournal.com]

[from here]

As they approached the top of the stairs, Alkaid took the natural exit, and turned to face the right. She'd already sorta been down what was there in the left corridor, but she wasn't sure where to go from here.

"...Hey, Badou? Speaking of sane... don't pay any attention to me if I talk about items and item screens and equipment. It's kind of a really old habit, so if you go thinking I'm crazy, I won't forgi--"

Just then, out of the corner of her eye, a wall seemed to peel back for a split second, revealing the rusty, drippy pipes within. She flicked her flashlight over to it just to see the normal, if dirty, wall. Nothing was there, but...

"Huh. I take back what I said earlier... I'm starting to think this place is glitching."

It would make sense, especially if he had already seen something similar. And with the intercom screwup, it seemed totally obvious.

Comments

[strayfag]

Item screens? Equipment? Badou was about three seconds away from asking to check Alkaid's vial for leakage just in case she was tripping on some other kind of acid entirely. It sounded vaguely familiar, too. Like something he'd heard on tv or... something.

He flicked his flashlight beam after hers automatically, vaguely unsurprised to find nothing but a wall there.

"That's what happens when you spend all your time on long, hard paperwork and ignore the upkeep." Badou replied, deadpan. "Maybe the Institute's just feeling neglected."

[to here]

[number1smiley.livejournal.com]

[from here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/705076.html?thread=58226484#t58226484)

The upstairs hallway was empty, though Teresa could hear the sound of another group's passage down the hall.

"Yes," she stated as an asnwer to Rolo's question, but she left it up to him to understand that.

[timeseal.livejournal.com]

For a moment, Rolo glared at her back with the intensity of someone who was plotting to just wind up his bat and knock her off the stairs. As long as she landed on the steps, perhaps she would break her neck...

But she managed to escape the stairwell before she answered him, with a simple "Yes." And that changed everything, Rolo's eyes widening slightly. He was here! If she knew of him, then was she an ally? Or an enemy? Before Rolo could really accept her answer, he had to know more.

"How do you know him? Did you see him? Where is he?" Suddenly, Rolo was very interested in what Teresa had to say and he didn't hide it.

[number1smiley.livejournal.com]

Silver eyes flickered over to take Rolo's reaction in.

"I do not know where he is, nor have I actually met him," Teresa replied, choosing not to admit that she'd had visual conformation of Lelouch's presence earlier in the day. She also did not explain how she knew of him.

Teresa continued down the hallway, pausing to shine her light down a hallway to the left before she continued east.

[reallyshortfuse.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/707046.html?thread=58345190#t58345190)]

"Looks like the gross stuff ain't continuing here," she commented as they headed further down the hallway. The only surroundings passing the beam of her light was just normal floor, wall and ceiling. Aside from the pipes she saw in the corner of her eye (which had disappeared again by the time she got a proper look at it), there was nothing here.

[girlsandgadgets]

"Thankfully," Edgar responded dryly. The outfits were already terrible- they didn't need enchanted slime to make them even less appealing.

He kept following Kuukaku down the hallway. He wasn't the type to let a lady lead, but she did seem to have some sort of a map, and he was quite sure she wouldn't share if asked.

[reallyshortfuse.livejournal.com]

Kuukaku had seen the railing they passed, recognizing it from her stay in the sun room during the day. Looked like they were right above the place right now, but she couldn't make out anything in the darkness even with the light they carried.

"Let's keep goin'!" she ordered.

[timeseal.livejournal.com]

[ from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/713620.html?thread=58534548#t58534548) ]

Since they wasted time at the chapel, Rolo moved quickly and just picked the next hallway at random. He could only hope they didn't run into anything else that would slow them down.

[ to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/709216.html) ]

[revolutionise]

[From here]

The flesh floor and walls bled back into normal plaster not much further down the hall, like a grotesque gradient of sorts. Utena and Leonard ended up around the corner from the western half of the hall, next to the balcony. "Really, really hope they'll be okay," said Utena, glancing back over her shoulder worriedly and listening for any sounds of scuffle.

She sighed softly, and turned to the hallway ahead. She had no idea where to start looking for clues. None of the closed doors gave her any immediate hints, either. To make matters worse, when she turned her flashlight back on, she swore she could see another of the phantom doors caught in the beam. Just as before, however, it disappeared faster than she could focus on it.

"Uh, maybe the Chapel?" she suggested after a few long, silent moments. "They say Landel appeared in person there once a few weeks ago."

[otnemememento.livejournal.com]

Leonard ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. He looked behind them, still trying to figure out the hallway. Damn this place. Were we both hallucinating somehow?

He turned back to face the girl when she spoke. "Makes sense to me." Guess we're looking this guy. He fumbled through his pockets for his polaroids, his hands still shaking a little from the adrenaline running through him. He scanned them for a moment before returning them to his pocket and grabbing his camera.

"What did you say your name was, again?" he asked as he flipped the device open.

[revolutionise]

"Huh?" Utena blinked in confusion when Leonard brought out his camera, turning back to face him rather than heading for the Chapel. "Isn't this a bit of a weird time for a photo op?" she asked, giving him an awkward smile. "Anyway, it's Utena." She thought it a little odd that he couldn't recall her name even though she had told him what it was only ten or fifteen minutes ago. Was her name really that hard to remember?

[vstheworld]

[From here]

As they entered another more normal hallway, Scott spotted something on the wall below the Sun Room balcony that interested him even more than a gigantic fleshy walk-in throat. It looked like a red and blue blob in the dim light, but something still looked very familiar about it. "Is that . . . Hey, hold the torch light over the rail for a sec. What is that?" he asked Indy, hoping that he was seeing what he thought he was seeing.

[its-the-mileage.livejournal.com]

Indy, who had regained most of the authority in his stride and was keeping a few steps ahead, had been planning on keeping up the pace until they got where they were going. But Pilgrim sounded serious, so Indy took a couple steps back and leaned out over the railing with the torch. They were looking down into the Sun Room.

It took him a second to notice what Pilgrim was talking about--some kind of weird colorful shape against a wall down there, a ways above the floor. When he looked closer, he saw that it was human-shaped. Pretty small, a kid maybe. A girl? But what the hell was the person wearing? And even more importantly: what the hell was he or she doing on the wall? He couldn't see any obvious supports.

"No idea," Indy replied honestly. "Looks like a person, but it can be hard to tell around here, with the experiments they're running." He was all set to keep going when he heard a familiar voice coming from down there. It sounded like Peter Parker. Indy was still feeling pangs of mild guilt over how broken-up the kid--no, Peter hated that, the guy--had been at breakfast, so he leaned back over with the torch to see if Peter was all right. At first he couldn't figure out where the voice was coming from, but it didn't take him long to realize that there was only one possibility. Oh, for crying out loud...

"Peter!" he called at the red-and-blue guy hanging onto the wall. "What the hell are you doing?"

[scarefaux]

[From here.]

The Scarecrow felt his foot slip on the floor as it went from the pinkish something back to its normal state. He hit the wall awkwardly on his arm, but managed to keep himself from falling to the floor completely. He looked around, waving his flashlight on the walls, silently thanking the hallway for being normal- well, as normal as it could be.

He was startled as the intercom buzzed again, loud in the seemingly quiet hallway. He still wasn't sure what it was going on about, but it was downright creepy. He was pretty sure he could still hear voices, as well as the sounds of fighting from the corridors.

He took a few breaths before reaching for his map to check their directions. "Should be down this hallway," he said with a wave in the right direction.

[scarletspeedstr.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/707046.html?thread=58804454#t58804454)]

The seriously disturbing squishing noises faded and merged into the sound of normal footsteps on normal flooring, which was a definite plus. The smell was mostly gone as well, which was even better. Pulling them both over in the direction of a wall, Wally stopped and turned to get a better look at Chihaya.

"Feeling any better?" he asked hopefully. "The chapel's at the end of the hall here, so you can take a break when we get there, if you like."

[numberonemonkey.livejournal.com]

Chihaya nodded, numbly. All he could see was the blackness of space, without even the stars, and Janice... drifting. Why didn't they help her? Why did Kagetsuya have to be so stubborn!

He moved away and grabbed Wally's hand, pulling him along to the chapel (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/713620.html?thread=58806420#t58806420).

[numberii.livejournal.com]

((From here)) (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/707046.html?thread=58775014#t58775014)

Now this was a much better vantage point. From here, Xigbar could look down onto the battle in the Sun Room, and even better, he was mostly protected from what was going on. If he did take his sniper shot from here, then there was no way the guy could dodge, either. He'd go from sitting pretty to just another point of starlight in a matter of moments, if certain myths were true.

For now, though, Xigbar noticed something. The ground was cool beneath his feet, and there was an unpleasant moisture between his toes. ...toes? Yes, toes. Somehow, his slippers had gone missing while he hadn't noticed. Which meant that he slowly turned to Luxord, a questioning look in his eye. "Hey, wait... the last hallway we were in. Didn't it seem kinda... fleshy, to you?"

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

Luxord paused mid-step as Xigbar brought that up, bring up his hand to rub his chin. After a few moments of that, he lifted his right foot to casually examine the bottom of his boot. Was that... mucus? Ugh. That amount of bodily fluid should never coat someone's boots that way. "The floor was particularly squishy, yes." Sigh. "I wish I may, I wish I might that we've no need to pass through Monstro again tonight."

Obviously, the worlds he had traveled to desensitized him.

The disgust (however much was really there, anyhow) faded enough for him to walk to the railing and examine the Sun Room below. He gave a low hum as he sat down, letting his legs slip through the gaps of the railing and wrapped his arms around them too, like a child intent on spying on their sibling downstairs. And what entertainment could be brought here? Certainly it was a better view, yes, but...

Hm.

[4lulzngiggles.livejournal.com]

((From here.)) (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/707046.html?view=58818534#t58818534)

There... they were free from that odd situation, though Joshua's feet were now slick with what he was afraid might be saliva and might be far worse, and he grumbled as he brushed a hand through his hair, to make sure it was still dry. This entire experience was getting a little... obnoxious.

Which meant that Joshua went over to the railing to rest his hand, in case he started tripping, and he quietly muttered, "Your room mate is quite the interesting person, Mr. H. What was that, anyway?"

[catstreetblues.livejournal.com]

Sanae leaned over the railing, panting slightly from their little sprint. "To tell you the truth I have no idea. Looked like we were in the wrong side of someone's throat to me - crazy." He laughed. "Guy said he was a ninja. Funny, 'cause what he had going on back there didn't look like typical ninja stuff to me. Too flashy - but I guess maybe they come differently where he's from."

And what about that outfit? He'd have to talk to Jiraiya later about his "fashion sense".

Just then, a very familiar voice drifted up from down in the Sun Room. Sanae peered down. "Hey, that sounds like..."

[emotionl4arobot.livejournal.com]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/707046.html?thread=58836966#t58836966), bending time a bit to arrive towards the end of the night for Peter]

He'd lost sight of Clark. Brainiac 5 gritted his teeth, cursing his injured foot, shoulder, back and side that were now all throbbing painfully and forcing him to move at what felt like a crawl. He wasn't sure how Clark could be here, despite him having seen him die, but if there was a chance, just a minuscule one, that he could somehow make amends for what had happened...

Then he was willing to take it.

He followed the wall as it turned into a smaller hallway, then paused as he heard a trace of a distantly familiar voice before the intercom sounded again, overriding it. Brainiac 5 only listened with a vague, distracted interest to the announcement now, far more concerned with trying to find out what was going on with Clark - if that truly was him.

With that goal in mind, he limped away from the wall and towards the railing near the centre of the room, wondering if the voice he'd heard was that of his dear friend--

--another voice broke through his thoughts, and Brainiac 5 froze up completely. Luxord. He was right there, leaning against the same rail the Coluan boy was gripping tightly with one hand, like it was simply coincidence that he was here as well. But he wasn't going to be fooled by that.

He should have known, should have realised this would happen. He'd seen Luxord once already tonight, so the man must have followed him here, no doubt seeking to either make his life worse somehow or to put an end to Clark once and for all. Grell must be around here too then. It was the only explanation.

But there was still a chance, he told himself desperately. If he could slip away, maybe he could find Clark before Luxord did or before Grell turned up from where he was no doubt hiding. Then he could save him, make amends maybe.

Doing his best to keep quiet, Brainiac 5 turned around.

Clark was right behind him.

He didn't mean to, but with his body wound so tightly and on edge, he couldn't help but scream in terror and try and propel himself backwards, away from the silent and deathly pale figure. The railing caught him in the small of his back and Brainiac 5 experienced a brief moment of sick anticipation as he hung in a literal balance between falling and not. He shot the silent figure of his greatest hero a desperate look and made to reach for him--

But then gravity won out and he fell.

[bungee jumping without the bungee to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/704857.html?thread=58857305#t58857305)]

[toxicspiderman]

[from here, also timed to the end of night]

One astronaut-like jog later (hey, an inflated elastomer sheet at an upstate New York country fair was almost remote enough from civilization and good taste to qualify, as was this place), and S.T. needed a breather. Shit, maybe there had been something wrong with the beer. His intestines were taking lessons in lanyard making and the world was a little shaky. Not in the nice beer buzz way, or even the more explosions the better, the hell with collateral damage. Mutually assured destruction had never looked so sexy.

He'd chalk it up to the smell -- worst came to worst, he could live with being the bastard who put up the signs about spray deodorants in common locker rooms. Might help the ozone layer, as well as his sinuses. Or an uncountable number of nights without a measurable sleep cycle. It was surprising more people didn't just drop dead from that alone. And the screaming was Chinese water torture for the ears -- individually barely more than irritating, but in concert, soul-destroying. Metaphor for his fucking life, man.

He was crouched by the railing, which was probably a good idea, as it looked like Spiderman was the next special guest star in the Brainwash Olympics. Poor kid was going to spend the rest of his life apologizing on the bulletin, even if no permanent damage was done. Some people were just too nice for their own damn good. He turned his flashlight off and set it down -- a moonlight stroll-slash-pacification attempt of a superhero by Joe Average didn't need to start by turning himself into a walking lighthouse. Reconnoiter. Axe the vertigo. Let his eyes adjust so the moon wasn't doing a fantastic job of imitating a sodium-vapor streetlamp.

Shit. Holy fucking shit that wasn't the light. That was his skin, blending in with the blond wood like he'd dipped them in fake tanning lotion or bile-green Kool-aid. Or like the concentration of bilirubin in his bloodstream had tripled in the last hour, which was complete paranoiac bullshit. It was the light, or alien intestinal fluids, and that was all. He didn't need to go hunting for a mirror to see his eyes or find something to piss on. Get a fucking grip, Sangamon. Couple of creepy messages and you're having a midlife hypochondriac crisis, while your hero's down there kicking the crap out of his friends.

After an indeterminate amount of time had passed, due to both psychological reasons which S.T. would later deny as well as the general chronological instability of the institute, he raised his head back out of his hands. Still crouching, he crab-sidled along the railing, trailing the iron pipe along the wooden bars like a one-note Orff instrument.

[toxicspiderman]

[this thread is running in parallel to this]

"Haven't you heard of multitasking? Come on, throw me a line here!" Not the most original taunt, but it beat the usual level of comic discourse. Besides, it'd be cool. He punctuated the taunt with another few slams on the bars, trying to make the pipe the obvious target rather than his own hands.

Though now it looked like whoever the other kid was was trying disarmament talks, rather than shoot-first-questions-later diplomacy. This seemed even less likely to work than SALT II, but it might reduce the groveling on the board come morning, and the associated guilt-trips.

[rubbermancan.livejournal.com]

((From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/703548.html?thread=58901564#t58901564).))

Luffy was pretty sure he'd been up the stairs before. That had felt like ages ago, though, so it was pretty fuzzy in his mind. If he'd made it up here that time he'd hung out with Brock, he must not have gotten very far. Come to think of it, it'd been a long time since he'd seen Brock around, period. Had he gotten himself lost or something? Maybe he'd ask someone once he got the chance.

In the meantime, he glanced back at Kaworu, looking more curious than anything now. "So what kind of place do you come from?" he asked. "Do they not have pirates there or something?"

[moral-liberty.livejournal.com]

"There are pirates," Kaworu responded thoughtfully. "There has been an increase in piracy due to economic and political distress across the globe. Pirates will target transports, including both civilian and cargo vessels. They seize the contents, often killing the crew and passengers, or holding them ransom, if convenient." He recalled the articles he had read, though they had held little interest when competing for Kaworu's time with music, or a psychology textbook. No one had particularly minded, though he wished now that he knew more about pirates outside of works of fiction.

Upon second thought, maybe knowing those story books would be more useful when it came to looking at Luffy as an individual. He didn't seem to be a member of a violent group pushed to raiding cargo vessels because of the deteriorating climate. The wake of the Second Impact had made violence of that nature commonplace. Luffy's attitude made it sound as though he had stepped out of a romantic novel, where he was a pirate to find freedom on the high seas. In his world, pirates wore straw hats and carried wide grins, and they met with heavenly angels, rather than things like Kaworu.

"You are not like them, are you?" Kaworu asked. "You seem too kind."