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damned_institute2009-09-20 11:43 am
thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2009-09-20 11:43 am
Entry tags:
- abe sapien,
- aidou,
- alec,
- alexander conklin,
- alfred,
- alkaid,
- allelujah,
- anise,
- artemis,
- asch,
- ayumu,
- batman,
- beatrix,
- beelzemon,
- brainiac 5,
- chise,
- claire bennet,
- claude,
- dahlia,
- daphne,
- dean winchester,
- depth charge,
- edgar,
- edward cullen,
- edward elric,
- endrance,
- euphemia,
- fai,
- falis,
- forte,
- giovanni,
- guy,
- haine,
- hanatarou,
- hanekoma,
- harley,
- haruno sakura,
- haseo,
- heiji,
- hime,
- hinamori momo,
- hitsugaya,
- hk-47,
- homura,
- honey,
- howl,
- indiana jones,
- jade,
- jason,
- javert,
- joshua,
- jun,
- junpei,
- kagura,
- kakashi,
- kanji,
- kaworu,
- keman,
- kibitoshin,
- kio,
- kirk,
- klavier,
- kratos,
- kristoph,
- kurogane,
- kvothe,
- l,
- lelouch,
- leonard,
- lockdown,
- lockon (neil),
- loz,
- lugnut,
- manny,
- meche,
- mele,
- minato,
- nightcrawler,
- nigredo,
- otacon,
- peter parker,
- peter petrelli,
- phoenix,
- pied piper,
- reno,
- rey,
- rolo,
- ronixis,
- sai,
- sam winchester,
- sasuke,
- scar (tlk),
- schuldig,
- scott pilgrim,
- scourge,
- sechs,
- setsuna,
- sheena,
- shikamaru,
- sho,
- soma,
- sora,
- starscream,
- suzaku,
- sylar,
- sync,
- tenzen,
- teresa,
- terry,
- the flash,
- the scarecrow,
- tim drake,
- touya,
- tsubaki,
- tsuchimiya kagura,
- two-face,
- tyki,
- utena,
- venom,
- von karma,
- yohji,
- yuffie,
- yukari yakumo,
- zex,
- zoro
Day 44: breakfast
Yuffie had died.
No, really. Seriously. She had actually died. Bleeding all over the place, making a horrid, sticky mess and scaring the hell out of Suzaku; she remembered it clearly. Kind of. Sort of. Through the blood loss, the pain, and the visions. Through Aerith's voice whispering in her ear, Cloud's stricken eyes, and her own panic. As bad nights went, it had been Bad, capital B and all the trimmings, and oh, god. She sat, trembling on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and hands pressed hard over her racing heart. The by-play between Landel—Landel!—and Lydia barely even sunk in. There was nothing in the whole world, any world, that could prepare you for something like…
Had it all been some kind of hallucination?
Had she imagined the whole thing?
No… She didn't think so. Nightmarish or not, Yuffie knew reality. But if it had been real, how was she alive now? That kind of pain wasn't something you could just cook up, was it? She thought about it all the way to the cafeteria, drifting behind her nurse without focus or intent. Maybe if she tried to stay clinical, tried to step back… But she'd never been good at that when things got personal. And every time she closed her eyes or blinked, she swore that the scenes played back to her, like an overused commercial on a crappy channel on a crappy TV, in a run-down dump of an inn that smelled like mothballs and yesterday's breakfast.
The scent of blood and damp, rotted wood clogged her nose. Disgusted, Yuffie shoved her bowl of cereal—handed to her by a clucking Plucky—off to the side so that she could melt into her chair, palm heels scrubbing against her eyes. Too much. This was… Too much. She couldn't even paste a plastic smile on her face to make herself feel better. Her usual shield, the white noise of inane babble that could filter out almost any crisis, was in tatters all around her. Five minutes, she gave herself.
Five minutes (not) to think, five minutes to get her act together, because there was no way she could let herself shatter here. No way…
[Closed to Sheena]
No, really. Seriously. She had actually died. Bleeding all over the place, making a horrid, sticky mess and scaring the hell out of Suzaku; she remembered it clearly. Kind of. Sort of. Through the blood loss, the pain, and the visions. Through Aerith's voice whispering in her ear, Cloud's stricken eyes, and her own panic. As bad nights went, it had been Bad, capital B and all the trimmings, and oh, god. She sat, trembling on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and hands pressed hard over her racing heart. The by-play between Landel—Landel!—and Lydia barely even sunk in. There was nothing in the whole world, any world, that could prepare you for something like…
Had it all been some kind of hallucination?
Had she imagined the whole thing?
No… She didn't think so. Nightmarish or not, Yuffie knew reality. But if it had been real, how was she alive now? That kind of pain wasn't something you could just cook up, was it? She thought about it all the way to the cafeteria, drifting behind her nurse without focus or intent. Maybe if she tried to stay clinical, tried to step back… But she'd never been good at that when things got personal. And every time she closed her eyes or blinked, she swore that the scenes played back to her, like an overused commercial on a crappy channel on a crappy TV, in a run-down dump of an inn that smelled like mothballs and yesterday's breakfast.
The scent of blood and damp, rotted wood clogged her nose. Disgusted, Yuffie shoved her bowl of cereal—handed to her by a clucking Plucky—off to the side so that she could melt into her chair, palm heels scrubbing against her eyes. Too much. This was… Too much. She couldn't even paste a plastic smile on her face to make herself feel better. Her usual shield, the white noise of inane babble that could filter out almost any crisis, was in tatters all around her. Five minutes, she gave herself.
Five minutes (not) to think, five minutes to get her act together, because there was no way she could let herself shatter here. No way…
[Closed to Sheena]
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Beatrix was of the opinion that anyone that needed to hire a mercenary would be better off choosing an independent than an affiliated. Less ties that way.
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Okay, so he wasn't that well-known on Cybertron. The only people who really knew about him were the top bots in the Elite Guard, some of Megatron's personal squadron, and a few back alley bots. Everyone else usually found Lockdown by reccommendation and most of the time the bounty hunter just scanned the broadcast waves for potential jobs. Most bots sent out messages that they had a bounty one someone's head in the hopes that anyone would take the job.
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"I take it the Elite Guard are whomever leads the Autobots' personal unit? Interesting... I've not heard anything about their leader."
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"Who leads the Autobots these days?"
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"Same bot as it's been for the past few million stellar-cycles, Ultra Magnus."
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Her lip quirked up. "So, in a fair fight, who would win - Ultra Magnus or Megatron?"
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"Superior technology, I see. I'm sure Megatron would like to get his hands on that," Beatrix replied. "What is it?"
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"You bet your skidplate Megatron would want it, if he ever found out where to find it."
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"Depth Charge says he's from a time further in the future from the rest of the Cybertronians that are here," she commented. "Perhaps he knows the Omega's location. Or at least what may have happened to it."
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He knew that Starscream wasn't a reliable source by himself, but when a Transformer who hated Starscream claimed the same thing, Lockdown couldn't just pass it off as a Starscream trick. Plus, the Starscream here had reacted in certain ways to information that the Starscream he knew would not.
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"If there are alternate versions, how do you know which ones are from which version?"
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"You mostly just gotta find out by askin' 'em stuff or seein' how they react to information. For example, there's this young Autobot from my universe named Optimus Prime. He's some nobody in my universe and Megatron doesn't even know his name. But the way Starscream and Scourge talk about 'im, you'd swear he was Ultra Magnus."
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