damned_institute | Night 44: Decontamination Room 1

Entry tags:

Night 44: Decontamination Room 1

[From here]

The room appeared exactly the same as it had the previous two times Homura had been there. He stepped inside, wary of anything that might be lurking in the shadows, particularly any wanderers from the next room. He knew just how difficult any of those creatures were to defeat; with only a fraction of their group present, even experienced warriors like Homura and Kenren would be seriously injured.

"Stay here. Do not open that door." Homura pointed to the very room he'd be sending Nataku and one other into shortly. Okita would still be coming, but Homura knew how short the night could be. His friend would just have to forgive him for "starting the party without him," as it had been put.

His order in place, Homura moved back into the hall to wait for the others.

[And back to the same thread as above.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Everything had happened so quickly that Hanatarou had barely registered any of it: he'd heard the sound that ghost had made, caught a glimpse of Taura with masses of unfortunately-familiar dark hair, and then suddenly it was a blur. Someone had grabbed him, his sash cutting uncomfortably into his stomach with the force of the pull, and dragged him away from that hall and through a door with barely enough time for him to realize that it had been opened. Unlocked, and with a key? There were keys to these rooms?

And then, after a second, Homura's comment about who guarded the room they were entering registered, and Hanatarou once more had reason to worry. If the nurses and orderlies were bad enough that Homura didn't want people just wandering in here, how bad would it be for those who had deliberately entered? It seemed entirely possible that the History Club really would need a healer; he only hoped that the healer would be able to help.

He gave a slight, belated nod and stared at the door after Homura left, stunned completely into speechlessness. All right, he was away from the ghost. But was he about to jump into the metaphorical fire?

Kenren was unusually silent, even as they headed into the first room. He had his gun in his hand and as Homura left, he began to tap it restlessly against his thigh. He was still spoiling for a fight and angry at himself for earlier, even if he couldn't tell whether it was because he hadn't fired straight away and stopped that bitch before it came to a fight, or because he'd come so close to murdering her in cold blood. And it would have been a murder this time, he knew it.

He watched Hanatarou for a moment. The kid looked pretty twitchy, worse than before. "You're the healer kid," he said gently, managing a shade of his normal smile. "Don't worry. We've got your back. One of the first priorities is making sure you don't get hurt." He was amazed hat the kid didn't seem to think that he had any worth. The hell kind of world did he come from where a Healer could be treated as though they were a burden.

Hanatarou jumped a little as Kenren spoke, having halfway forgotten there was someone else in the room with him until reminded. "Ah...? Oh. I...okay?" One of his hands drifted down to the sword he wore, closing about the hilt as though it was really the zanpakutou it resembled and he could find comfort from it.

At least Kenren was trying to reassure him. And Nataku should be here soon, and apparently Taura, and she'd been nice to him when they'd met. If they were really going to put a priority on keeping him safe (why would they want to do that?) then at least it would be people he knew and who were friendly. It wasn't much of a relief, but it was still something.

He cleared his throat quietly, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he attempted in vain to look less nervous. "Wh-what is this p-place?" he asked, wincing a little at the stutter. "If it's, um, so...dangerous?"

[And back again!]

Homura only remained in the hall for a brief time, and this time, had four following him in. That Okita (and Ayumu, who would apparently be joining them yet again) had arrived before they'd even begun only reminded Homura of how quickly the time could pass within the prison. The fight ahead of them would hardly be an easy one, but perhaps between the strength and numbers present, they could end things quickly.

"In the next room, for whatever reason, our captors keep a stock of weapons." Ones that were of higher quality than even the alchemists could provide, or were things they couldn't create; that was the ultimate reason why Homura had been careful to keep their access to the room secret, though the other reasons were true as well. "And there are always nurses and orderlies in that room as well, transformed into monsters by the night. They are difficult to defeat; the smaller ones are fast, while the larger ones have inhuman strength. They use chains as whips, and they can easily break bone."

Homura pulled out the knife he'd used earlier against Callisto, though he'd wiped it clean of her blood, and held it out to Taura. "The larger monsters seem to follow direction from the smaller ones. Okita, you and she," he nodded towards Ayumu, "will enter the room first. Draw out the massive creatures as before, and call out so we know how many we're dealing with."

"Nataku." Homura turned his attention to his fellow taishi. He still lacked a proper sword, but they were the assassins of the heavens. If any of the group should focus solely on killing, it would be the princes of war. "We'll take on the larger monsters. It'll be critical to draw them off of the others so they can go back to take care of the leaders."

"And that leaves watching over Hanatarou to you two." Kenren and Taura remained, and Homura grinned to the once taisho. "I'll trust you to take care of anything that might slip past Nataku and myself. As for you, Hanatarou. Avoiding injury is your priority. We need you unharmed, so don't jump carelessly into the fight, regardless of how skilled you might be with that sword."

His orders issued, Homura once again looked to each of the people in the room, seeking assurance that they understood their various tasks. Injuries they could afford, between Hanatarou's abilities and the accelerated healing of the Institute. Death, however, Homura refused to allow, particularly because of carelessness. He had given a mission, and now he trusted the others to fulfill it with success.

When he was certain the others were ready, Homura drew his sword, and took a position in the center of the room. "Go ahead." He nodded to Okita and Ayumu.

[And now the groups can split into individual threads (see here)! Whatever posting order you guys decide is fine.]

Nataku had only flashed the woman a smile at the word of thanks, idly considering trying to find her during the day. She was a part of the history club, close enough to warrant some curiosity, but more than that he'd be happy to properly meet anyone who seemed friendly enough.

His attention was diverted soon after that, by the arrival of Souji and Sen and Homura's instructions to follow him inside. His assumption about the blood, at least, had been right. He would be sure to find Homura and Kenren the next day, even if it was just for a little while.

As for where they were going and why, he frowned a little, maintaining his silence out of habit. They must be some extremely useful weapons for Homura to risk all of their lives when, as he understood it, weapons could be made with available materials and patience. But he trusted Homura and he didn't believe that trust was misplaced, so he would wait and see and do as he was instructed.

He shifted into position, careful to leave his fellow taishi room to maneuver, mind clear of all distraction. Except for one small thing, of course.

"Good luck."

Ayumu had noticed the look Homura cast at Okita upon her arrival, of course, but didn't bother to acknowledge it. It didn't seem their leader planned to argue at the moment, and therefore it wasn't anything to worry about until the time was right. Instead she merely nodded to him in greeting before entering the room, her gaze quickly flicking over the unfamiliar area and those already assembled. The maps she'd seen had indicated the door through which she'd just passed as one completely impassable, and her interest was therefore even more piqued than it had been previously.

Her attention shifted quickly back toward Homura as he began to speak, and as she listened to the explanation and instruction felt herself shifting automatically into the mental and physical state that marked her readiness for a mission. It was a familiar feeling, and one most welcome: it provided a clear target to occupy her attention, a purpose that she drew about herself like unseen armor. While fixed on the here and now, focused on Homura while simultaneously watching and listening to her immediate surroundings, she had no time to spare for creatures directly from stories told to frighten children, for words on a page and her brother's accusing stare, or for the feel of a blade sinking into the flesh of a red-haired Choushuu.

The mission was everything, and she would do her utmost to succeed. It would be unusual to work directly with Okita, but welcome; he was the only one in the Institute she completely knew that she could trust. Was that why he'd asked her along as well?

No, no time for that. She bowed her head slightly to Homura in acknowledgement, then paused to drop the pillowcase with the extra fruits of her gathering efforts. "If anyone has need for these, feel free," she said, as the collection of scalpels, sharp-bladed scissors, and razor blades clinked quietly on contact with the floor. If she had time, she'd retrieve it later. For now she needed to continue unburdened by anything other than what was vital.

She glanced toward Okita to make certain he was ready, then moved toward the door, taking the lead into the next room as she pulled out one of her knives and held it ready.

[going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/748311.html)]

....skilled with the sword?

Clearly Homura had never seen him try to use the sword he was carrying, or else he would never have said anything like that. Or else maybe he was just trying not to come out and actually say 'please don't draw that sword because we all know you'll just trip and impale yourself on it.' In which case, then, Homura had seen him try to use the sword, so never mind that.

Hanatarou winced slightly and nodded, then hesitated a second as a thought occurred to him. If Homura and Nataku were going to be fighting the whatever-they-were monsters that were supposed to be coming out of that room soon, and Homura had a sword and Nataku had...okay, it was a fairly decent-looking blade, but not really a sword. And he was already given orders not to even try to draw his sword, so it'd be completely useless for him to hold it, wouldn't it? (That was a rather familiar state of being for him, really.)

He carefully pulled the replica of Hisagomaru from its improvised sheath and held it out to Nataku hilt-first with a shy smile. "If you want to use this, you can," he offered, a little hesitantly. It wasn't his zanpakutou, but it was still the closest thing to it that he had here, so he was a little reluctant to let it go. But Nataku was kind of almost a friend, and he needed it more.

With that done, he ducked his head a little and moved back, out of the way of the people actually doing the real work.

[dropping down to thread below (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/746535.html?thread=60800551#t60800551)]

The site of Hanatarou offering his blade to Nataku caused Homura to raise an eyebrow, but he said nothing. After all, his orders had just included that Hanatarou not fight, and Nataku would greatly benefit from what was obviously a better blade. Still, the lesson that Kenren had taught him not so long ago about never giving up your sword had taken a firm root in Homura's mind, and was reinforced by his memories. So it seemed a strange offering, to put it nicely.

There was little time to wonder, however, as Okita yelled from the other room. Homura frowned sharply as he realized what it most likely meant: that someone with enough thought had changed the method of the monsters, quite possibly in response to the previously successful raid. The addition of gas limited Homura's powers just as effectively as the Institute itself had: creating flame of any sort would risk causing an explosion, one that could harm his own allies, or even worse. Though Homura had confidence in his skill with the sword, he was also one that made use of every advantage. Defeating the orderlies and nurses would still be possible, but much more difficult, and much more dangerous without his flame.

He held back in the first room for several long moments, but when neither Ayu nor Okita emerged, Homura looked towards Nataku. "We're going in. Control your breathing as best as you can, and if you can no longer fight, get out of there." To the other three, he looked over his shoulder. "Stay here for now. If things go against us, we'll likely need you to get us out."

With that, Homura moved quickly into the next room.

[To here]

[dropping down from above thread]

Hanatarou moved back to one side of the room, trying to find somewhere that he wouldn't end up underfoot or something. He kind of felt bad for Taura and Kenren, being stuck with him while the others got to go off and fight. Hopefully they wouldn't be too annoyed with him because of it.

Without even thinking about it he reached up to take hold of the band across his chest, hands closing tightly about it as if for reassurance. Hopefully if he was needed he'd be able to do something useful. If nothing else he had the supplies in his bag to patch up any injured, so he wouldn't completely be just a burden on the group.

Taura didn't argue; not with the orders, nor with Hanatarou's decision to give his weapon away. She nodded, murmured Yes, sir to Homura, took the knife, and followed Hanatarou. As they walked, she slid into formation, putting herself between him and the door, though a half-foot off to the side so that he had a clear sight line. If Kenren didn't take his other flank, she'd reorganize, but it seemed like the best bet for keeping Hanatarou both out of and near the fight. She'd seen what he could do, and if don't use the medkit as a battering ram was a good idea, don't break the magic medic was an even better one.

Waiting quietly was something she was good at, but since there didn't seem to be any reason to keep quiet when they were about to bash a door open, she turned to Hanatarou and greeted him.

"Hello again, and thanks for last night; repairs are holding." She grinned, wide and toothy, and anticipation lit her eyes. There would be enough action even on medic-guard duty, she was sure of that. She tipped the knife back and forth, and brushed the sharpened edge against the palm of her hand; her grin proved that it could get wider.

Edited 2009-10-28 18:17 (UTC)

It felt strange, to say the least, to be standing there without the sword at his side. Even if Hanatarou had spent the first few nights here without any kind of a sword, and half the time at home had forgotten to carry Hisagomaru around with him, it still...well, it was missing. The physical presence of the replica had sort of made up for the missing spiritual presence and now he had nothing.

But if it helped Nataku at all, it would be worth it. He just had to remind himself of that.

And Taura's clear eagerness for a fight was both reassuring and not. It reminded him somewhat of the 11th, and the less that reminded him of the 11th the better. But as long as she wasn't annoyed at being assigned to him, that would be acceptable enough. He supposed.

He just smiled up at her a little uncertainly, forcing himself to relax his grip on the band a bit. "You're w-welcome," he replied, wincing a little at the stutter, but was quickly distracted by the sound of a shout from the next room. Gas? Was it poisonous? He didn't have any remedies for poisons here, and he found himself mentally reviewing a list of the plants he'd seen in the greenhouse before realizing that wouldn't be of any use since he didn't have any of them.

He just had to wait until the pair re-emerged, and see what he could do at that point. And so he stared at the open door with eyes wide, trying not to look as nervous as he felt.

[Zalia, if it's not okay to skip Kenren again, lemme know and I'll delete.]

Gas wasn't something Taura had had to deal with much; she'd just flip her helmet closed and suck bottled air. And she hung onto your helmet with everything she had, just behind her gun and her shield generator; it was communications and tracking and turned mass confusion into a plan. "Damn," she said, looking at the door closing behind Homura and Nataku. Here they had nothing -- shouted coordination through a door that was both too solid to hear enough to help and too thin to prevent all of the gas from leaking around the edges.

Taura took her new knife and started hacking at the right leg of her sweatpants. A few black hairs caught and clung to her hands; she cut them loose with more force than necessary. Soon she had cut knee-to-ankle into three strips, and tied the first around her own head before holding out the others. "It'd work more, I think, if we could wet these, but it's better than nothing, right?"

It wouldn't help much, but even thirty seconds of consciousness could turn the tide in a fight; enough time to throw a body or two over her shoulder and run for fresh air, enough time to survive.

Hanatarou had taken the strip of fabric somewhat hesitantly, since he'd seen the hairs clinging to Taura's leg and couldn't help but associate the cloth they had touched with the spirit out in the hallway. Would just touching that bring back the curse he'd finally dared to hope was gone? No, he was being silly, he told himself firmly. He needed to worry about other things right now when there was the possibility that the gas in the other room was seeping into here as well.

As he was tying it in place, though, he heard Homura's shouted orders (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/748311.html?thread=60865559#t60865559), and barely managed to get the knot tightened for how much his hands were suddenly trembling. If they were to be gathering whatever might be considered valuable in there, then the others must all be busy fighting. He only hoped that they would be able to keep the creatures away from his group, especially now that Nataku had his sword.

But he said not a word, only lowered his arms again as his hands tightened into fists, fingernails driving into his palms as though that would force him to have courage. And into the room they went.

[going here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/748311.html?thread=60923159#t60923159)]

[back from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/748311.html?thread=61091863#t61091863)]

If they were going to do something like this again, he'd have to bring some clean water or something, Hanatarou told himself as he made his way back into the other room. Something to rinse out his eyes would be welcome, because no matter how much they watered the burn didn't get any better. He resisted the temptation to rub them, though, instead moving back to the safe corner where he'd been before.

If they were bringing injured people back in here, he needed to be ready to deal with it. He knelt down, setting the pillowcase he'd dragged out next to him and pulling off his own bag. It should be well-stocked still; he hadn't needed to use any of the supplies in there since he'd packed it.

[back out from here]

Ayumu was no real burden on Taura's shoulder, now that she was out in fresher air and could breathe again. After a few gulps, she looked around. Hanatarou had actually followed orders rather than running after a fallen comrade, which was one less thing to worry about. He was repacking a pillowcase -- next time, Taura would bring one herself. Looting hadn't been on her list of expected tasks since they hadn't been sent for metal.

Hang on, hadn't Ayumu had a bag? Yes, there it was. It turned out to be full of other makeshift weapons; that certainly needed to come with them. Taura tucked her prize in among them, and rebalanced her load. The air here wasn't completely scrubbed; Ayumu would recover more quickly outside, but they were also behind a locked door here; nothing but the enemy they knew could bother them. Tactical retreats were not a Dendarii speciality; missions tended to succeed, brilliantly, or not at all.

So the question was what needed to happen to make this a brilliant success? That was what Miles would do. Three things; no casualties (on their side), objective met, and a return to base. Stealth wasn't a priority; Homura hadn't hidden his possession of the key from the things that had once been medtechs. They'd gotten something; she didn't know what the primary objective had been, past those things, but they'd met the secondary. No-one was dead; there were enough people mobile to evacuate the injured; that was two. Now they just needed something to cover their retreat.

Miles...Miles would have something set up. Another prong, another feint, a conveniently located drop shuttle or explosive charge, while she and her men ran for it. All they had was a dark corridor and a spooky hair-thing -- oh! Oh oh oh! Did the monsters have a communications network? It didn't look like it. All they needed was to get back to that hallway and they could get lost in the crowd.

She walked over to the door, ready to get out of this dead end before it became a literal description.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Night 44: Decontamination Room 1

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject