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damned_institute2010-01-02 10:02 am
quickdrawbkiddo.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2010-01-02 10:02 am
Entry tags:
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Night 46: Main Hallway, 1-West
[from here]
Beatrix had walked this path to the Sun Room so many times, she could do it in complete darkness. Which was exactly what she was doing. Knowing the way, there was little need for light as it would only draw creatures and other unwanted attention. Silently counting her steps, at the right number, the assassin headed left and down the hallway.
[to here]
Beatrix had walked this path to the Sun Room so many times, she could do it in complete darkness. Which was exactly what she was doing. Knowing the way, there was little need for light as it would only draw creatures and other unwanted attention. Silently counting her steps, at the right number, the assassin headed left and down the hallway.
[to here]
no subject
Bizarre analogies aside, there was a lot to be gleaned from that little drop of wisdom. One being that Luxord was certifiably crazy. To refer to the institute as a game of all things, treating it like a romping good time? That was unsettling. Brainy had seemed confused about how he'd ticked off Luxord enough to make him join Grell in his stabby escapades, but considering that kind of kooky philosophy, it was just as easy to say Brainy had done nothing at all. The guy had come along for kicks. What did he do, flip a coin on it?
The next statement cemented it. Luxord was just flying by the seat of his pants, morality and survival instincts be damned. What a whacko. No point in arguing further. Any sign of dissent could tip him off. Peter only shrugged, saying, "Eh. It's your funeral."
Now he could see his face, at the least. Older than Grell, blond, goatee. Somehow Peter couldn't fit in the earrings with the silver British tongue he'd grown to know and love.
Also why were all the creepy people he met British?
His eyes moved down to the man's boots when Luxord shone his light on them, proving that he was completely buckle free. Okay, between the chuckling and the playing along with his jokes, Peter wasn't quite sure what to say anymore. The man was...strangely charming. Craziness aside. On a very big level he knew that being amicable didn't come close to excusing what he'd done, but on another he was thrown off track. None of the creeps he'd met were friendly in the good way. They could be polite and say nice things, true, but you always got the feeling they were a second away from pulling a knife. He wasn't getting that vibe from Luxord. His spider sense wasn't even buzzing.
"Then the Black Lagoon will just spit out seven pounds of zippers once it's done with you. They are very nice boots, though. I'll have to look for a pair just like them."
He swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't even notice he'd had a lump in his throat until he swallowed it. Cripes. They were getting closer.
Peter still didn't know what he was going to do.
[To here.]