damned_institute | Nightshift 44: Stairwell by Medical Wing

Lockon eyed the hand truck as it went up the stairs. That couldn't be very convenient--but he had a feeling that Sho was rather married to that cart. He didn't worry too much about being heard: they didn't seem to be monitored during the night, anyway.

"Batteries? I like that idea," he said. "Let's hope I can find some better rubber for a slingshot, too." The cut-off plastic hanger he'd made the handle of the slingshot from was holding up pretty well, but he'd been testing out the elasticity and that could definitely use some improvement.

But it hadn't fallen apart yet! He was trying to be positive about that.

"You be the battery, I'll be the assault," laughed the Reaper, wheeling the cart around the middle landing and yanking it up the second flight of stairs. "With that, any hectopascal that gets in my way is as good as derived!"

His wording indicated that, while Sho couldn't believe in teamwork, he could believe in command hierarchies, and it was clear what end of that chain he believed himself to be on.

"The battery and the assault...that's a good one," Lockon said with a laugh as he followed up behind the clang and clatter of the hand truck.

He was pretty adept at figuring out Sho's speech by now, and he could tell what that last one had meant. Lockon was only second-in-command in this hierarchy of two, huh? Well, he could live with that. And maybe there'd still be the chance to demonstrate some teamwork later.

If not...at least he could get some materials and defend his real team.

Pulling the hand truck up the last steps, Sho turned it around and wheeled it out into the hall, ready to mow down anyone who got in his way. They needed to get the batteries first for that pun to work.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/734251.html?thread=60323627#t60323627)]

[From here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/735489.html?thread=60428033#t60428033)]

"Two days. I'm given to understand that about a week is considered a particularly long time to have spent here." What Abe wanted to know was where they were all going. Eaten by monsters and cleaned up afterwards seemed a possibility but not the only likely one.

Perhaps it was a good thing he was going first. Mr. Smith probably had little knowledge of how to defend himself.

Now that he thought of it, the Doctor didn't really have a firm idea of how long people were generally here. He knew that they sometimes vanished, or died like Brainiac 5's friend, but the length of time before that happened... He was only sure of two people who had been here longer than he had--though there were more that he could conclude had--and those two were Edward and Arlene. It was something that might be worth looking into...

"You might be right," he ended up saying in reply. "I can't say I know many who've been here for longer. Maybe there's a reason, and if there is</I, well... That would be something worth finding out."

"Ideally not firsthand..." Abe swung a glance behind him to make sure Mr. Smith was keeping up, then out of habit checked the ceiling. You always checked the ceiling, eight times out of ten whatever was pursuing you would hide up there and assume you wouldn't look up.

[Ack, sorry about the html fail in that last post!]

The Doctor grinned, putting his hands in his pockets as he walked with Abe. "I don't know about that... Finding out firsthand tends to be the best way!" he said.

After a pause he added, "Well, depending on what there is to find out, I suppose. Some things you don't need to find out firsthand, like whether there are pears in the fruit salad; I'd take someone's word on that. But finding by what method people are brought here and why they disappear, well..."

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/734251.html)]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/734251.html?thread=60747819#t60747819)]

Stopping at the top of the stairs, Sho was now presented with a new problem: transporting his new additions down the slope. While normally he'd have no qualms about just tossing it all down and picking it up afterward, he'd rather these particular goods remain intact.

Parking the hand truck at the top, Sho walked down a few steps and turned to face his companion.

"Hey, uh..." he paused, realizing Lockon wasn't really under his command and if the man put up an argument, Sho probably couldn't stop him without increasing the negative value of his injuries. "Grab that end of the cart, will ya?" he asked somewhat gruffly, but not barked out as he usually would have. "I'll get this end and we can carry it down."

Something about Sho's demeanor had changed as they'd made their way through that hallway. Even if Sho tried to hide it, Lockon was good at noticing that sort of thing. Normally he'd cover up any reaction to it, but his injuries made that kind of impulse sluggish, and so he was frowning slightly in curiosity as he followed Sho into the stairwell.

Fortunately, there was something new here to occupy his attention: Sho was making an effort at something approaching teamwork. Sure, it was only because of the situation and his injuries, but it was still kind of cute. Lockon smiled. "Since you put it that way, I don't mind."

Moving carefully so as not to disturb his own injuries, he picked up the other end of the cart and got ready to help carry it downstairs.

Sho made a bit of a face at how amicably Lockon responded, but gave a small grunt of approval that was the closest the man was going to get to a thanks. Picking up his end of the cart, he gave a another grunt, this one of pain, as he took up the weight, but managed to steady himself.

"Right... let's hold off on velocity and aim for stability," he said after a moment, adjusting his body so that he wasn't crushing his ribs. He was only partly successful, but it didn't seem like there was any other way to carry it. "Okay, let's go..."

One slow step at a time, he felt his way down the stairwell, the thought that Lockon could just give him a good shove and send him tumbling down the stairs crossing his mind more than once. Maybe he should have taken the top...

Naturally, Lockon noticed the face Sho made. Even with his vision dimmed, he could make out those little cues. It was his element. He smiled a little.

But the smile lasted only a fraction of a second. He still had to deal with the combination of his injuries and the cart he was slowly maneuvering down the stairs. His expression faded, and he merely concentrated, moving slowly, just as Sho had suggested.

It did occur to him that a certain amount of trust was required for Sho to give him this position. Was that progress, or an accident? Probably the latter, Lockon decided. But he'd make it a happy accident.

"You doing all right down there?"

If Sho had noticed the smile he would have made another face, but at the time he had been picking up the hand truck instead of looking at Lockon. His attention was similarly absorbed in the task at hand to really pay attention to much else.

Well, it didn't seem like Lockon intended to forcefully accelerate Sho's descent. It was just as well, it would be a waste of time to change spots now and besides, it would show a certain amount of fear or paranoia, neither of which were things the Reaper particularly wanted to broadcast.

"All right? I am a veritable standard of stability!" he shot back with more confidence than he felt as they reached the middle landing and began to turn about for the bottom flight. "Triangles could take lessons from me!"

Lockon followed after, still as steady and carefully as ever--even if his grip trembled briefly, when he hoped Sho wasn't looking. This wasn't doing any favors for his injured ribs.

But they were clearly both hurting, and Sho at least was nervous, which meant it was time to distract him with something harmless. "I don't know," Lockon said. "Triangles never seemed that stable to me." He was teasing, of course, but he was also counting on Sho not to quite pick up on that.

"What are you-" Sho paused and winced, the cart shaking in his hands briefly. This yelling, even if it was lower than his normal volume, was doing nothing positive for his ribs. "What are you talking about?" he tried again, a little more softly, though he was quickly increasing his volume soon after. "Triangles are the strongest polygons known to man!"

He paused in his rant for a bit as he started down the bottom flight, taking care not to miss a step. In this case, it seemed gravity was more of a threat to him than any animate forces.

"The triangle is the only polygon that cannot be deformed without changing the lengths of at least one of its sides! All other shapes waver under pressures that the triangle simply shrugs off! Don't underestimate them!" he resumed before having to catch his breath and try not to miss a step. Okay, maybe he should save it until they got to the bottom of the stairs.

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/734251.html?thread=60787243#t60787755).]

"Well, I think we can - cautiously - call that a successful mission. There's always tomorrow night for the file rooms, and hopefully there won't be another gauntlet to run through like there was tonight."

That much would, hopefully, be true. If they didn't face any 'specially counseled' patients, it should be a relatively easy task.

Edited 2009-10-28 02:50 (UTC)

"Hopefully," Phoenix echoed, trotting down the stairs quickly, flashlight rattling along the railing as he traced it on its way down. The beam jostled erratically, and he directed it at the ground as he came to the first-floor door, shouldering it open and peeking outside. "Isn't the second floor always supposed to be bad, though?"

Seeing that the coast was clear, he stepped out into the hall, propping the door open for Edgeworth.

Edited 2009-10-28 03:11 (UTC)

Nightshift 44: Stairwell by Medical Wing

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