damned_institute | Nightshift 43: Hall of Armor

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Nightshift 43: Hall of Armor

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The lighting just kept changing here, didn't it? They had to do it on purpose, and that creaking only served to up the creepy factor again. Landel had a thing for mood setting, didn't he?

But all those thoughts went out the window completely when Junior's eyes settled on what the room actually held. The armor was the most noticable, and it was really pretty fascinating. At least one looked like something Jin might wear, if he were here, and another looked like something you might find in the military ranks of Ormus' history. All that paled to what the armor actually held.

Score!

There were a few different kinds of weapons there, but the only one that really mattered was the gun. The redhead made a beeline right for it, picking it up and turning it over to give it a good look. It felt like forever since he'd held a gun, and it was like being reunited with an old friend.

"Oh man, a Beretta 92!" he exclaimed. It was a really similar model to those M9s he had back home, even; though if he remembered right, an M9 was just the military version of the Beretta. So not only was it a gun, but it was a gun he was sort of used to. Could this get any better?

A little song started going through the back of his mind as he continued to turn it over, checking to see how much ammo it had. 'Cause the eyes of the ranger are upon you. Any wrong you do he's gonna-- oh man, yes! 15 rounds! "Hey, guys! Come take a look at this!"

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The click of the lock was for the large part ignored--Albedo not even glancing its way. Nigredo answered, and Albedo nodded, eyes returning to the texture on the wall, his hand shifting over it in something close to affection. His lips twisted once, and then he followed Rubedo down the hallway, and into the next doorway.

This room gave way to the part of his mind unnatural to life, titillating the presence within him, sending jolts of impressions and sensations along Albedo's spine and into his mind. Weapons. Armor. And he could probably name most of them without knowing why. He blinked carefully, once more treading on the edge of a blade. Walk lightly, oh; the ice is so thin.

While his twin headed for the western (western? And how did he...?), Albedo found himself wandering towards the eastern types, ornate in form and deadly in nature. A hand reached out to trail along a naginata, from bottom to blade. Here, Albedo paused, eyes roving over the decorations instead of the sharpness of the blade. The delay could only last so long, even with his new peace of mind. Silently, Albedo pressed his wrist onto the blade until the blood was running rivulets down designs ingrained. Nothing major, no tendons snapped or arteries fully severed, but the gouge was deep as Albedo pulled his hand back, skin sticking on the blade. Per usual as of late, nothing happened at first, and his attention focused to a singular point--if this would be the time that it truly didn't work.

It crept in like fog, the glow of focused energy shifting molecules to succeed in its purpose. Albedo still stared, minutes passing as the wound closed; every second creating another point of exhaustion to pound at his headache. His other hand went out to steady himself against the armor, knocking against the nagainata as it did so, sending the weapon crashing to the floor. Albedo continued staring, the blood from the blade now smeared on the floor. He wondered. He wondered if....

A hand over his wrist, though healed and forgotten, Albedo shifted to the next one, reaching out and deftly plucking the kukri from its hold. He moved it back and forth, watching the shine glint among the engravings. Rubedo's voice rang in his ears suddenly, an impression like he missed the first half of the sentence sticking at him. He frowned, glancing over, then slowly followed in his brother's steps.

Edited 2009-09-12 06:38 (UTC)

Rubedo's retort was met with humor most in tune with the youngest: bland and unresponsive. Beneath the cool exterior, however, Nigredo rejoiced at the turn of emotions. Peace--regardless of form and length--was a welcome sight; he would take any semblance he could get, especially after tonight's incidents. The boy scanned the tapestry for another minute, then drifted over to his brothers.

It seemed the basement grew more intricate as the trio ventured further in, this room being the most decorated so far. What made up the decor proved unsurprising, on the other hand; the hallway outside had provided enough clues for the boy to hazard an accurate guess. Of course, he couldn't name or place much of the objects, but training and knowledge formed an understanding. He could probably predict their use if he considered the subject long enough.

With slow, uneven steps, he followed Rubedo to the opposite row of armor, green eyes glued to the weapons presented. Most were clear cut in design, a few impractical, but all appeared quite capable of fulfilling their individual purpose. Nigredo slid his eyes to a slim, white dagger with a cylindrical blade and without meaning to, imagined it embedded in the back of an unarmed man.

A crash from the other end of the chamber derailed his thoughts. He looked back to find one weapon at the feet of the suits of armor and a brother moving on. Had something happened? Nigredo couldn't tell from this angle and opened his mouth to speak--

"Hey, guys! Come take a look at this!"

Rubedo had beaten him to the punch, for a much different purpose than he'd intended. Other brother forgotten, Nigredo stared at the redhead in bemusement. Which vanished as soon as he recognized what was in his brother's hands.

"A Beretta 92?" That sounded remarkably outdated. "You're pretty excited for a simple semi-automatic." He crossed his arms, doubt and suspicion settling in place.

The sounds of his brothers moving about the room went in one of Junior's ears and out the other, so engrossed was he in the prize he'd found. Until, at least, Nigredo's calm statement tried to kill his excitement. He looked at the youngest with an expression that said 'are you kidding me?' Sure, it was a simple semi-automatic, but they were good, reliable weapons. Well, give or take a few problems that the Berettas seemed to be plagued with. That appreciation for antiques had to be something he'd acquired as an adult.

"But this is an antique! It's a Lost Jerusalem-era weapon!" Which fit, really, considering where they were, but that didn't matter right now. It was a gun. He held it out for his brothers' inspection and pointed to the slide, frowning as he noticed what seemed to be dried blood on the grips and the back of the slide, like someone had used it when making their last stand. That development did nothing to dampen his enthusiasm, though. It could've been used during some sort of shoot-out! Wouldn't that be cool?

"See this stainless steel? A lot of this model's parts are made out of it, but a lot of earlier Berettas weren't built like this either." Junior transferred it to his uninjured arm and spun it around on his finger for a moment, then caught the grips and held it out so he could look through the front sight. "Sayonara, baby!" came the unbidden phrase, and he finally lowered the gun.

"This is a real find! Wonder why they've got something like this just lying around?" Then Junior noticed the dagger that Albedo was holding, and the other weapon on the floor. There was really some weird stuff in here, wasn't there? Maybe Landel was a weapons collector. "Or any of this. Geez, you'd think they'd at least try to hide them better if they let people go running around at night. Maybe this is why we don't hear much about the basement."

Making his way to his siblings, Albedo unconsciously continued to play with the kukri in his hands, shifting it back and forth and running his fingers down its length. Surprisingly, no blood was shed with this one--the sight of the blood on the floor was enough to slip a memory of only minutes ago into his fractured mind--of endless blood and an absence of death. Perhaps he was a fool to keep thinking that maybe one day--it wouldn't work.

Thoughts his own, Albedo watched Rubedo with a slight frown, adding to Nigredo's own reaction. As Rubedo continued in his senseless excitement and nonsense, the frown grew more pronounced. A master of tact, Albedo merely asked, "What is wrong with you?"

Lost Jersualem-era? Did the thing even fire? Then again, if they were in the very era, this should be more than expected. His eyes again flickered down to the gun below, interest piquing.

This lasted for approximately three milliseconds.

Nigredo peered up at the eldest brother, a mix of surprise and laughter lurking beneath his otherwise curious expression. "Rubedo," he spoke slowly, as if to add to Albedo's question. "How do you know so much about four-thousand-year-old pistols? Also--" Here, he brought his head up to catch his brother's eye. "--isn't it rather careless to pick up something just lying around?"

What was wrong with him? Absolutely nothing! Junior was in absolute bliss, so he just blinked at Albedo's question. "what do you--" he started, before Nigredo asked something a bit clearer, forcing the redhead to step off of cloud nine for a second.

Oh crap.

That's right, he wasn't supposed to know that much about it, much less start rambling off facts right in front of his brothers. "Uh...someone gave me a crash course during one of the day's shifts here," Junior lied. "It's not like there's anything else to do during the day, or like we'll ever get the chance to really study it back home--" yeah, right "--and it was interesting, so I listened." A hesitant pause. "Very carefully."

Instead, the redhead focused more on the second half of the youngest's question, the one that revolved more around him doing things he shouldn't rather than knowing things he shouldn't. "And man, don't say it like that. If it's lying around, it's not being used against us." Sure the weapons could malfunction and hurt him in the process, but did he really need to say that? "Besides, it's nice to have something long-range on hand, just in case."

The blade stopped moving against his hands--tapped once against his fingertips and silented. Data filtered through and occupied Albedo's mind, probability making its way forward. There were two holes, and only two with Rubedo's tale--one only noticeable in part for an earlier realization. "So..." Albedo started, voicing the suspicion casually. "You learned while you were here. Became enthused and garnered a high appreciation. While you were here. Like that earring."

Because Albedo hadn't forgot the suspicious hole in Rubedo's flesh, something noticeable even now, if one looked. And as for the other loose end... "And pray tell, twin of mine. That little trick." He spun his finger for emphasis, twirling an imaginary gun. "When did you learn that?"

Albedo's eyes lost the casual look, and instead became shrewd. "Because I was of the understanding that firearms are not to be found here with any of the usual methods." He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. "And by your reaction here, it would seem that's true. We're in the two thousands AD. These are the only guns you would find, and you're excited now. So you didn't learn it here. And I have never seen you do that before."

Logic was not Albedo's strong point--it was far too close to sanity to touch on. But finding holes, finding tears in the fabric, little threads to work and twist away to show what's underneath--oh, yes, that was his. His enough, when his mind was stable in any degree.

Curiosity vanished. In its place, dubiety surged, and despite his best intentions, Nigredo frowned. Minus one exception, everything Albedo brought up might as well have come from his own lips. There was something significantly off about the eldest since arrival; it was only now either had a chance to call him on it.

"You recognized the gun's identity almost instantly. Unless you have handled this Beretta 92 for at least a day, such a task would be improbable for you," he added. Albedo had sufficiently covered as to why the latter was not likely. The boy, therefore, simply continued his addition. "Furthermore, you hesitated and then tried to change the subject. I mean, you practically jumped at my other question."

There was more, but Nigredo couldn't voice the entirety. Not in Albedo's presence anyway. "And what earring?" His frown deepened. "Just how long have you been here to get an idea like that?"

Like the...oh. Right. Albedo had seen that a few days ago, hadn't he? And the implications didn't stop there, with questions cropping up as to how he'd been able to spin it. After about a week and a half of non-stop practice with both hands to keep it going for a while was the real answer for when he'd learned it, but he couldn't bring himself to actually say it. Not with the attitude his brothers were taking, because then they'd want even more of an explanation.

One thing was certain. Keeping his own timeline quiet was really coming back to bite Junior in the ass. They'd done a brilliant job cornering him, though he shouldn't have expected anything less. He needed a way out.

"I've been here for almost two full weeks," he admitted, answering at least one of their questions. "And--" Another door caught his eye, this one on the opposite end of the room from the one they'd entered. It looked a lot less shiny, more like the door that he and Albedo had fallen through, but maybe it would help. "Hey, look at that." Junior reached down to pick up the sword that he'd dropped in his enthusiasm, and then headed over to it. "Let's take a look through here."

But the door didn't open that easily. Yeah, great going, he thought to himself. Now it'd be even more obvious that he was just avoiding the topic. His brothers wouldn't have bought that in the slightest. Junior sighed and glanced back over at them, giving a sheepish smile. "It won't budge. Look guys, help me out here and I'll give you a real answer, okay?"

Edited 2009-09-15 02:32 (UTC)

Two weeks. This did not line up. The brief mentions of different times on the bulletin flitted through his mind, but he hadn't paid nearly enough attention. So instead, Albedo frowned, working through it. It had been almost two weeks from the Conflict now. Almost, but not quite. But he believed Rubedo, that he would keep track of time better than Albedo himself. But what did that mean then?

The frown grew more pronounced as Rubedo tried and failed horribly to shift their attention away. General suspicion shifted to complete suspicion, and Albedo crossed his arms, watching as Rubedo tried in vain to open the door in front of him. Albedo sighed, then followed along with Nigredo, planting both hands on the large door.

Where his attempt to just altogether evade question failed, at least by saying he'd explain, he'd managed to get them to follow along at least. Junior sighed with relief, though he tried to do so as quietly as possible, which turned into a bit of a yelp as the door suddenly started swinging open when they were all touching it, inviting them further into the Institute's depths.

The URTVs couldn't have had that much power between them. What the hell was with this place? The redhead was starting to think that perhaps trying to rush them on and distract his brothers might not have been such a great idea, but he couldn't admit as much to them. So, once again, he stepped through the door, trying to quell his uneasiness.

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Nightshift 43: Hall of Armor

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