damned_institute | Nightshift 46: M11-M20 Hallway

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Nightshift 46: M11-M20 Hallway

Once again the doors had opened. Cloud believed most of what Yuffie had told him, but it was still unreal the way this place operated. They were clearly being tested, mocked, or both with the nightly routine, yet they didn't have many other options but to take the chances they were given.

Still unarmed, but hopefully ready to deal with anything, the blond nodded a goodbye to his roommate before stepping out into the hall with nothing but his flashlight. Yuffie's room was in the single female block, which was on the other side of the block he was currently in. It wouldn't take long to get there, but knowing that creatures could attack the patients even within the patient block caused him to keep his guard up right from the start.

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[From Here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/779043.html?thread=63937315#t64154147)

Celes had intended to move quickly along, and briefly remembered Dias emerging from this hallway when she healed him the first time. She worried her lip and smoothed a hand over her hair. He'd better be there, laid up in bed like a proper person and not wandering around the hall like another certain young man (she sees you, Guy. Prepare for a lecture when she wasn't busy somewhere else) was. Celes rapped on the door and waited.

"It's me."

Stiff as his movements were, and sore as he still was, Dias had indeed planned to go out for the night. There was nothing to be gained if he remained in his room, nothing to do save consider the time he was wasting or, even more compellingly, his death and all the potential repercussions of it. Rather than that, he might as well go out and try to accomplish something, even if he was in no condition for that something to be anything significant. He would have left already, if his injuries hadn't made changing into his clothes from Expel a slower and more painful process than usual.

He'd been pulling on a gauntlet - the last part of his outfit - when the knock came, and an uncomfortably familiar voice followed it. Celes would probably not look kindly on his plans for the night. "...Come in."

Celes flipped her flashlight in one hand idly and opened the door. Her expression immediately turned sterner upon seeing Dias up, dressed, and looking like he'd been preparing for a trip out.

Would none of the men in this institute learn that, contrary to their pig-headed and mule-minded beliefs, they were not invincible. She closed the door behind her and crossed her arms under her breasts. "Reviving from the dead is a very impressive trick, but don't think you'll be making a repeat performance of it anytime soon."

The look on Celes' face when she saw him dressed told Dias everything he needed to know about the rest of the night - namely, that if he was going to go anywhere, it would be an uphill battle to convince her of why that might even begin to be a good idea. And when it came to persuading people of things, he was far better at using his sword than his mouth.

"That was my third resurrection," he replied, cocking an eyebrow at her. "I've got a reputation to uphold by now." He doubted flippancy would do anything to lessen the tension on her end, but it certainly made it easier for him to deal with the thought.

She held up a hand to keep him from talking. "Enough. Allow me to be crystal clear, Dear Sir: you're going to stay in this room tonight even if I must restrain you." And from the tone of her voice, she meant exactly that.

Her face didn't soften a bit as she continued (though if he really expected it to, he was talking to the wrong woman), "You're hardly in the condition to go wandering about the halls tonight, a strong breeze could knock you over and then those giant cockroaches would thank the gods for their free meal. But as I am not so poor a friend to allow you, dear Dias, to remain alone tonight, I've elected to stay with you." Really, he should've felt touched.

Though it made her feel rather touched in the head to say it like that. "So, take off those gloves, and sit. Down."

Kakashi closed his eyes when Landel announced the end of night. Whatever personal issues he had, now they would be pushed aside in favor of the mission. Of course he couldn't forget so easily, but Kakashi knew better than most at what points such things risked causing distraction. He'd have Obito with him, and later, Sakura and Raphael. He couldn't afford to be anything but confident in that situation, since he'd have the coolest head by far.

Kakashi started gathering his supplies, and soon had reason to be glad he'd gotten dressed during dinner; he gave Dias a look of mild curiosity as he invited a woman in, but said nothing. Finding a place for the sword proved enough of a distraction, given it's odd shape and lack of sheath. He finally settled on carrying it for the moment, as it would give him a chance to move with it before he ended up battling with it. Then he headed towards the door, which apparently would be far simpler for Kakashi than his roommate. He almost felt bad for Dias, having been on the receiving end of a few lectures like that himself. But then, any sympathy didn't keep him from chuckling as he left the man to his fate.

Once in the corridor, Kakashi headed towards Obito's room, conveniently only a single hall away. Still, the jounin almost felt like he couldn't move fast enough, particularly if Obito got impatient and hadn't waited. The last thing he needed to do was wander the halls alone.

Dias heard the chuckle as Kakashi slipped out - at Celes' arrival, he'd almost forgotten the man hadn't left yet - and made a mental note to give Kakashi extra tempura the next chance he got. His life was difficult enough at present without his roommate taking amusement at his expense.

"It'd have to be a very strong breeze," he countered Celes dryly, although he did slowly sink back to a seated position on his bed. He made no move to take off his gloves. "And you don't need to act as though you're staying to keep me company when we both know you're staying just to act as my warden."

Good, he was sitting again. That was one more point in Celes's favor. "It's one and the same to me, you know. Not only do I get to speak to you for an unmarked length of time, but I also get to make sure you do not attempt anything decidedly foolish." She smiled thinly, though it was genuine.

She took a few steps forward, though her hands never left her hips, pointedly reminding him that he'd just better stay there if he knew what was good for him. A little dark part of her quietly relished having control over something again. Oh, how she'd missed it.

"Speak to me, or at me?" Dias asked guardedly. He wasn't so naive to think that he was done with lectures for the foreseeable future. In fact, he doubted Celes had even begun to get started on him.

It didn't help that he got the distinct impression that she was kind of enjoying this, somehow.

"Both, at my prerogative," Celes replied calmly. She adjusted her bracers and took another few steps forward. If she'd judged correctly (and she knew she had), there was enough space between them for her to cover all his possible exits.

Unless, of course, he did something particularly surprising. "Have you spoken with Claude at all?" The little thread of pleasure coiled warmly in her stomach. Enjoying this? Her? Well... yes.

"I did," Dias replied, now even more cautious. There were very few foreseeable ways this subject could lead anywhere but to what had happened in the coliseum, and exactly what Claude - and Celes - thought of his actions there. And Celes was very obviously blocking all his potential escape routes...not that he would actually try to run from her, and it might be a calculated insult on her part to even physically insinuate he might, but it was worth noting. As was her adjusting her bracers; it was entirely possible he was due (at least in her mind) another punch. "Why?"

If he was lucky, maybe the implied threats were only meant to be acted upon if he had proven to be avoiding Claude. It wasn't that he couldn't take a few punches or lectures from Celes, but no one would find them such pleasant experiences that they wouldn't rather avoid them.

"Because I was curious as to whether or not he noticed you drop your guard." Treading carefully would get her nowhere tonight. She'd have to hit him heavily.

It seemed as though 'subtlety' and Dias Flac weren't great friends, besides. A little niggling part of her itched to know why she'd been picked to suffer for Dias, too. But, that part could wait (wait forever, too, if Celes had anything to do with it) and the young woman watched his face carefully.

"I tried to ensure it," Dias replied with a quirk of an eyebrow. "I didn't want him to believe he'd killed me by accident, much less due to incompetence on my part. Better he blame me."

He fell briefly silent. "I couldn't just accept one of you dying instead. I doubt you'll thank me for taking that decision into my own hands, no more than I expected Claude to."

"You're right; I'm not going to. It was foolish," Celes's words were punctuated by each long-legged step she took towards Dias. "Risky, worrisome and ridiculously heroic. If stupid." She stopped before him and put her hands on his shoulders.

"Don't they teach the people in your world to not take overly-risky chances?" her tone softened, just slightly. For Celes. "The feeling of being unable to help you while you bled out was..." She took a deep breath and sighed. "Nevermind."

As he'd expected any physical contact between himself and Celes to play out entirely in punching - or, if she was in a more forgiving mood, slapping - the comparatively gentle hands on his shoulders startled Dias somewhat. "'Suicidal' goes beyond risky," he remarked, with the slightest flicker of a smile. "And heroism is often stupid. That's why only heroes are fool enough to try it." With a shake of his head, he continued, "Anyway, it only looks selfless from the outside. I gave up the one life I could stand to lose; that's all."

He dropped his gaze at Celes' cut-off statement. "I know the feeling." His voice had briefly betrayed him, becoming hoarser than he'd wanted it to. That had been the hardest aspect of his choice in the arena - why it was shame rather than humility that prevented him from even thinking of his actions as heroic. He'd known what it was like to see someone you cared about die right before your eyes, known how cruel and agonizing it was and had all but thrown himself on Claude's sword anyway simply because he couldn't bear to watch that sort of scene again. He'd taken the choice into his own hands out of cowardice; it was just that most people would never consider the possibility that he'd given up his life to avoid facing something far more frightening.

Mental manipulation: Celes used it.

She exhaled through her nose and nearly smiled at him - as near as she ever got to a smile, anyway. "I suppose I can forgive you, then. For now. At least until I desire to punch you. And at this range, I doubt very highly that I'll miss." She laughed a little bit, as through trying to break the odd cast to the air around them. That tone in his voice was a little too telling for Celes, and opened up avenues she wasn't sure she wanted to traverse any time soon.

Celes lowered herself to eyelevel with him, her blue eyes cool and curious as always. Her nose nearly touched his own.

When Dias lifted his head again, it was to find Celes' face inches from his owns - a realization that served to quite effectively wipe out all thoughts of old wounds in order to replace them with fresh bafflement and uncertainty. He'd observed for some time now that he and Celes were alike in many ways, but in just as many ways she was entirely inscrutable to him; now was one of the latter instances. Part of him was still waiting on that punch; there was a rock-hard core of cynicism that even wondered if this wasn't simply some sort of ruse to throw him off-guard for it. And instead she was leaning in too close for anything except - well, something he'd assumed she'd punch any man for trying.

Knowing he was already due a punch as it was, Dias opted to give her a questioning look and see what, exactly, she intended. His social skills were badly stunted as it was; he wasn't going to risk misreading this cue, if it was meant to be a cue at all.

Celes scoffed slightly and rolled her eyes, "Men." Really, she'd come this far, with little planning on her part, actually, she'd might as well go in for the rest. In for a penny, in for a gil, as the saying went.

Slowly, and possibly to keep him from instinctively flinching away, Celes kept her hands stiffly on his shoulder and closed the rest of the distance between them. Her lips pressed gently and congenially against his. A kiss could mean many things, as far as Celes had been concerned. It had been a payment for a knife once, and to other people meant much more than Celes thought it should. But there was reason behind this, and much more than Celes knew she could put into verbal expression.

Still, his lips were warm and slightly chapped, and not womanly soft ~~thank all the goddesses for that~~, much to Celes's relief. He'd just better have some idea of what she was putting behind this sneaky attack of hers.

Dias didn't have the first idea of what Celes was doing. (Or, rather, why - what she was doing was fairly obvious even to someone with his limited experience.) He wasn't sure what his first reaction should have been to being kissed by the last woman he'd ever have expected as much from, though - thanks to her exasperated remark as she leaned in - what it actually turned out to be was a roll of his own eyes in return.

Women. It was probably just as well she was preventing him from saying it aloud.

Trying to discern her motives seemed pointless, at least for the moment, and the kiss was pleasant enough - and coming from a woman that, baffling tendencies aside, he cared about and admired. With questioning or refusing it deemed thus unneccessary, response was left as the only logical option - though without experience he'd need to rely on instinct. Not that this presented any great difficulty; instinct had served him well before.

A gloved hand lifted to rest at the back of her neck. If figuring Celes out were at all possible, he'd have to do it later.

A few long moments ticked by before Celes finally pulled back, thankful for the dim lighting that hopefully hid the pinkness from her cheeks, though she couldn't say she had nearly as much cover for the warmth that rolled off her face. Still, Celes was a noblewoman and a General to boot (even if she was a branded traitor). She could handle this with aplomb. "I realize that was forward of me, and I apologize. However, Dias, I have come to realize that I'm rather fond of you. Overfond, perhaps, given the situation and our goals.

"But, even with all that, I would just like to make it perfectly crystal-clear to you." Celes reached up and closed her fingers over his hand. "So there is little confusion for both parties should something irreversible happen."

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/781617.html?thread=64395057#t64395057)]

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Nightshift 46: M11-M20 Hallway

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