Nightshift 44: M21-M30 Hallway

[straydoghowl.livejournal.com]

[M30]

So the doors really did unlock, huh? That was something. And look, he even got a convenient flashlight. Well wasn't that something.

It was only as Haine reached for the door that he realized he had no idea what room that idiot partner of his was in. He'd been too busy growling at Giovanni to think of asking anything useful. Then came dinner, and now there was some crap about monitoring the bulletin board. Haine hadn't even looked at a bulletin board all day, so whatever, as far as he was concerned. There was some weird shit going on here, though, that was for sure.

He was really beginning to think that this might not be the Underground, but what other explanation was there? He hadn't exactly spoken to anyone who'd disillusioned him of that thought, so he'd stick with it until he had a better explanation.

The back of his neck suddenly felt funny, and he put his hand back there...wait. How was it possible that the metal collar was suddenly there? He was sure it had been gone! He'd been losing his fucking mind about it earlier! He was sure he hadn't been hallucinating that...

Fuck this. He was going to find that worthless partner and figure shit out while the doors were still unlocked.

[going down to here]

Comments

M28

[superdynamic.livejournal.com]

The transition to nighttime found Suzaku continuing to pick ineffectually at his dinner, like he had been ever since he'd been dragged away from Teresa. Teresa. . . He shuddered a little, wondering not for the first time if she had an ability like -- like that horrible man who'd threatened Nunnally. But no, he was pretty sure she had just read him the old-fashioned way. Who knew who she was, or what she had experienced in her lifetime? Maybe Suzaku's story was nothing to her.

It seemed laughable, however. Things couldn't get much worse than the way his life already was. And -- dammit! He'd been so caught up in what Teresa had been asking him, that he'd forgotten to probe her own motives, to analyze her as a person as she had done to him. And he had even forgotten to make sure he knew Euphie would be safe tonight. It was just, with the feeling of inevitability so strong in the back of his throat, he almost couldn't make himself keep fighting. They were all going to die -- no, he was going to change that. He had to keep trying, no matter what happened, until his very last breath. Suzaku's hand clenched around his fork in determination. He would make Lelouch see sense, he had to. Far too much was riding on that now. If anything, Teresa had made him recall his chosen path.

He had to wait for Yuffie first, though. Suzaku slid the wakizashi out from under the mattress, where he'd barely had the presence of mind to hide it that morning. He could do this. He could do it, step by step, until he reached his goal -- don't think about Lelouch, he told himself. Not yet. He was just going to wait for Yuffie and finish his dinner, because right now, that was all he could do.

Re: M28

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/728500.html)]

He didn't have long to wait. A scant handful of minutes passed, until, out of nowhere, there was a chipper chirp of, "Put your pants back on!" and one single rap on the door. Which was promptly—and dramatically—swung open, because hanging around outside was for losers.

Yuffie poked her head around. "Yo," she greeted, her smile easy. It was a front, but a good one; she'd had years of practice, and she didn't exactly want to show Suzaku a vulnerable front. Last night had been bad enough.

Re: M28

[superdynamic.livejournal.com]

. . . His pants were on. They'd never been off. Suzaku really didn't get this girl. And how she could talk like that, when just the night before she'd -- but that was what Yuffie was like. She always managed to be chipper, even in the Institute, so it stood to reason that something like that wouldn't get her down for long. Still, seeing her in person again brought back such vivid memories of blood all down her front, her small body twitching in its death throes. . .

Suzaku stared at her blankly for a moment before finally managing a "Hey." It hadn't been real, he had to remember that or he would lose it (again). She was alive, for now, and that was all that should matter. Step by step, action without thought, that was the only way he could keep going.

"Your sword's here," he said, lifting it towards her and trying not to stare, trying not to fixate on the way she was breathing, on her so-very-much-alive smile.

[boyking]

As guilty as Sam felt admitting it, he couldn't deny that it was a relief to have an excuse not to go meet Dean right away. He wasn't sure what he could say after what'd happened earlier. It was hardly the first time they'd...had words, but everything was balancing on such a precarious edge lately. After the last year, he wasn't—he didn't want a repeat of that. He didn't want to spend the next eleven and a half months or however long they had together fighting.

But he couldn't help feeling on edge about—things. About everything. It wasn't fair to take it out on Dean, though, he knew that. It was just, Dean was the only person there usually. And in some ways, it felt safer because he knew Dean would never stay pissed at him for long. Not about this kind of stuff at least. Besides, it was never Dean getting angry that ever got to him. It was...

Anyway.

Seeing Dean tonight would get awkward fast. Sam was perfectly okay with putting it off for the time being while he spent some time on his own. He had to admit, too, that though nothing would ever replace having Dean by his side, he missed being alone. He missed not having to worry about what he was going to do or what he was supposed to say or if he'd say the wrong thing. It was kind of nice to have that back.

[going here]

Outside M22

[remnantsofflame.livejournal.com]

Asch wasn't sure where to go or what to do this evening. He knew he wanted to find a way to actually procure a sword, but the chances of just finding one lying around were about zero.

He'd heard the intercom's announcement, but mostly ignored it. So they suddenly cared what people wrote on the board? Well, sticking all that info about monsters and things up there was probably not the best idea in the world anyway. It wasn't too surprising that it had been shut down. Anyway, if people started coding messages or something, it would probably still continue. If he needed to post to Guy, he'd write in Ancient Ispanian, though he wasn't sure he'd need to. If he needed to talk to anyone else, well, he'd just be vague.

He decided to stick with just the meat cleaver tonight, and leave the pipe behind. The pipe was heavy, and a bit cumbersome; the cleaver was lighter and sharper, more like something he actually wanted to use as a weapon.

He picked up his scalpel and used it to cut off some of his pillowcase. Then, he wrapped the cloth around the scalpel blade and pocketed it carefully. It wasn't the best way to carry it, but he didn't have a better option at the moment, so it would have to do.

He picked up the flashlight and clicked it on. It seemed to him that the beam it was emitting was dimmer than it had been before. That was a problem. He had absolutely no idea how the thing worked, let alone how to fix it if it was broken. He'd have to suck it up and ask someone tomorrow. Maybe Claude would know, and then he could avoid asking Guy about it. Sure, Guy would probably have figured it out, because that was just how he was. He liked to know how things worked. But Asch wasn't sure he wanted to ask Guy for help; Claude was closer to being neutral ground. With Claude, at least, Asch could pretty much guess that he'd be willing to help without holding some grudge about it.

He pocketed the map, finally decided he was ready, and headed out. He wasn't sure how far he'd get alone, but that was just fine. He'd manage.

Re: Outside M22

[remnantsofflame.livejournal.com]

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html?thread=60133537#t60133537)]

M26, Inside and Out

[ryuuzaki]

L had given his full attention to the two announcements that followed supper.

To begin with, they constituted an appearance of sorts by Landel himself, one more detailed than his brief comments that morning. Any information, even the continued impression that some kind of performance was involved, would help in developing a profile, but several specific new ideas came from what was said. Landel does not like the free exchange of information on the bulletin board, which may suggest that some people were coming too close to the truth, or elements of it, for him to remain comfortable. It is impossible to tell who, or which elements, or how much they threatened him, but we can certainly say that he is not pleased with the detailed information about the creatures.

Still, it is interesting that he has chosen censorship over using that information to his advantage. Because he is... confident? Maybe, but -- there is more than that. It might be that he is inflexible, and cannot change whatever his plans are, or -- a disruption in personality? Further speculation with any chance of accuracy was impossible; only continued close concentration on the content of future announcements with an eye to whether or not Landel's personality was truly different at night, and in what ways, would bear fruit.

Preparing to venture out was more difficult than he would have expected -- the remembered taste of blood in his mouth, the frustrating helplessness -- but he gathered up his flashlight and, after a moment's reflection, stripped his pillow and put his radio in the case. Even if he intended for this trip to be brief, the file could consist of multiple pages, and if he ran into trouble, a confrontation of some kind might happen. He did not want the pages to scatter. The pillowcase would contain them.

Confrontation. As he headed out of his room and down the hall, he considered how satisfying it would be to see Landel in person. L had an appreciation for hiding in the shadows and communicating at a remove, but even after a day and a half, he already thought of the administrator as his abductor.

[To here.]

[strayfag]

[from here]

And god fucking damnit, that was a long walk. If he got to Haine's room and he was sitting there on his pale naked ass - which was very pale when naked, as Badou now knew - watching imaginary TV or something... Badou was just going to shoot him in the face. With his water pistol. Yeah, take that Haine.

He would heal in ten seconds, but it would be a satisfying ten seconds. Until he got his face smashed in. Come to think of it, it'd probably be more like a satisfying .5 seconds.

...He really needed to stop thinking about maiming Haine. Before it was ok because Haine was being a dick, but now it was getting creepy. Maybe he hadn't burnt off all of that lazer-guided fury yet.

He tucked the water pistol under his arm so he could open the door and let himself in, talking around his second cigarette, "I'm not late, man, don't even start bitching."

[straydoghowl.livejournal.com]

[from up there (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/732557.html)]

Haine was still in front of the door when Badou opened it. He had to step back, and managed to glare at Badou anyway. Was he late? What time was it? Were they on a timeframe that Haine was unaware of?

"I don't give a shit if you're late. There's not a clock around here anyway," he said. It was supposed to be a joke, but it didn't really sound like one.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, missing actual goddamn clothing, and missing his guns.

"So what now?"

[strayfag]

This from the guy who threatened to screw an alarm clock into his eye socket. Maybe Haine was afraid of the dark and just not telling him.

"Story time I guess. Did you get any of the basic stuff?"

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

It wasn't strange for Sam to bolt out of their room like a bat out of hell, so Peter didn't think much of it. That kind of determination was pretty contagious, and Peter never liked to keep people waiting in the first place.

He was hoping that they could actually get to the shed in the courtyard without interruptions this time. With the zombies followed immediately by whatever had happened last night, it would be nice to go back to the normal grind. Compared to all of that, a few rabid, over-sized bats weren't all that bad.

As usual, Peter grabbed for his flashlight and his shovel, and he found himself wondering what kind of weapon Nathan would spring for. Considering his experience in the military, he probably wished they could find something a little more generic, but things like firearms or even knives were hard to come by. The latter wasn't impossible, but the former? Yeah, not gonna happen.

Peter stretched, let out a sigh, and braced himself. "Here goes," he murmured to himself as he walked out of his room and down the hall.

[human-sponge.livejournal.com]

Outside M29

[4lulzngiggles.livejournal.com]

((From here.)) (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/728500.html?view=60267188#t60267188)

Ah... this was a little obnoxious. Mr. H. had better not have gotten himself jumped again, or Joshua might find himself a tiny bit upset. Just a tiny bit. But then again, perhaps it was just the older man waiting for him? If that was the case, it wouldn't be so bad; after all, he had said 'same place,' which meant 'this place.'

With that thought in mind, Joshua made his way down the hallway and knocked on his partner's door, waiting patiently for a response. Hopefully soon, too; he wanted to make sure that they managed to get to their destination this time, ghosts or none.

Re: Outside M29

[catstreetblues.livejournal.com]

Jiraiya took off shortly after the intercom announcement for whatever business he had, leaving Sanae to get his stuff together and wait for Joshua to arrive while mulling over exactly what the Head Doctor meant by "taking your training to the next level". Yeah. Who hadn't seen that one coming?

The knock at the door caused the barista to spring from his seat and open the door with much more enthusiasm this time around. "Hey, Josh!" He threw a really casual salute. "All ready for round two."

Joshua would notice that there was a distinct change in uniform this time: Sanae had decided to make use of the coat hanging in the closet - mostly for its pockets. Two scalpels were sitting at the bottom of one, cloth wrapped around the blades; his precious spray paint was peeking out of the other.

"I've got some good news for you too; we can talk about it on the way."

Re: Outside M29

[4lulzngiggles.livejournal.com]

Ah, there he was! Joshua was pleasantly surprised by how energetic Mr. H. was- without even a supply of coffee! That was certainly a positive thing, and it made the young man more hopeful for the future. Of course, he still had his shovel and his cell phone handy, so they were about as well-armed as they could hope for.

And the promise of good news? Well well, that was a bright spot as well. "All right," he amicably agreed, "we should get going anyway. Hopefully there won't be any interruptions this time." Dying by his own hand was not an experience that Joshua wished to repeat again.

((Heading back to here.)) (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/728500.html?view=60267188#t60267188)

M22

[grosse-sklaven.livejournal.com]

There... was one positive side. While Adelheid had remained mostly insensate throughout the day, he hadn't been idle. No, resting had enabled him to fight off the worst of the infection, leaving him mostly clear-minded now. The whispers were still louder than normal, his blood still burning brightly, but it was a manageable affair. Certainly moreso than it had been the night before, and enough where he wasn't too worried about his mental state- no more than usual.

While he debated on what to do, Adelheid got to stretching and going through a light routine, easy on his dislocated arm but still enough to get his blood flowing. He had to remain in shape if he was going to be useful at night; both to keep his energy up for alchemy, and to make sure he could fight against whatever the Institute had planned for him. Still... he wasn't worried about that intercom announcement. He'd survived for this long, how much worse could it get?

Re: M22

[lost-metal.livejournal.com]

This time, the coming of night made Ed shudder, the first time in ages that it had even seemed like a scary prospect. But what he'd seen and felt last night, that had been creepy and disturbing. He tried to forget about it but such vivid recollections and sensations was impossible to forget entirely.

Ed pushed himself to his feet, reaching beneath the bed to pull out his spear before he left the room quickly. He needed something to keep him occupied, to keep his mind off things (too many things that were getting to him and he hated it).

He knocked sharply on Adelheid's door. "Hey! Adel! Are you in there?"

[zeus-incarnate.livejournal.com]

The announcements Landel had made were a bit troubling, but not all that surprising. The liberty of the bulletin board would have to have ended sooner or later, and at least Marcus had gotten enough going that he would probably be able to continue to organize nightly patrols. Just less obviously.

Marcus set out for the main hall, taking his flashlight with him but leaving the gun safely hidden in his room. He didn't anticipate heavy combat and if they ran into brainwashed patients he wouldn't want to shoot them. That, and gun powder and strong electrical shock did not go well together.

[zeus-incarnate.livejournal.com]

[Going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/727695.html?thread=60055439#t60055439)]

M25

[bprd-fishman.livejournal.com]

Abe carefully rolled up his sketches and placed them in the back of his closet after Statesman left. Last night had been...unpleasant to say the least, and he didn't intend to drop any more trauma on Demyx even if he did want to see the young man again.

Tonight would be best spent in exploration. He'd seen large portions of the first floor, bar the other living quarters, but the east side of the institution drew his attention. What were they keeping over there?

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html)]

[toadally4boobs.livejournal.com]

Jiraiya finally had time to consider the dinner announcmen tas he left his room. He had always wondered why the bulletin board wasn't watch more closely, and now he no longer had to. It seemed that the Head Doctor was going to correct that oversight. From now on, they would have to write in code.

He thinned his lips for a moment, considering something before making his decision. He'd have to give Renamon the most basic of Konoha codes. While it was dangerous to write down a code, lest it be discovered and decoded, he would have to chance it. The lack of communication was even more dangerous.

[toadally4boobs.livejournal.com]

But, first, he had to meet Sasuke.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html?thread=60432801#t60432801).]

[vayu-pavana.livejournal.com]

Gale didn't waste any time this evening. The moment the doors unlocked he was out and heading down the hall without a word. Existence in this place was tedious, and he didn't feel any closer to answers then he had the day before.

Tonight though, with the help of the others he hoped to shed some light on things.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/728500.html?thread=60469172#t60469172)]

[offduty.livejournal.com]

Not that rare for Reno to head out without a goddamn clue as to what he was doing beyond a vague notion of where he was going, so tonight?

Pretty damn par for the course.

The hallways were dark (usual) and quiet (usual) and a couple of people lingered (also usual). Paying attention to a random patient was about as tempting as paying attention to...well, a random patient. Reno didn't even spare them a second glance as he moved on.

Rude, of course, was a lazyass which meant Reno had to drag himself to his partner's room. Bastard.

M27

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

It was unfortunate that Gabriel would have to be confined to his quarters for the duration of the night, but there was little Spock could do about it. With the way wounds healed at an accelerated rate it was likely his condition wouldn't last for any longer than a few days, at least.

In the meantime, Spock's primary obligations involved Captain Kirk and Ensign Chekov. As such, the Vulcan hadn't wasted any time making the proper preparations for whatever exploring Kirk deemed necessary. With his bat in one hand (he was still surprised to know the staff hadn't confiscated it), and his flashlight in the other, he politely bade Gabriel farewell and stepped out into the hallway.

Because he wasn't certain of what to expect, he knew he needed to move cautiously yet quickly. Spock didn't want a repeat of last night by any means, although part of him acknowledged that in the end he probably didn't have that much control over the matter.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/730785.html?thread=60632993#t60632993).))