damned_institute | Night 47: West Wing, South Hall 1-A

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/812854.html)]

Mello stalked quickly along the corridor outside his and Emmett's room, and made the by-now-familiar turn to the south hall.

Predecessor, that bastard had said, and Mello couldn't help but think he'd been referring back to the attack on the Institute. He sorted yet again through everything he knew and had theorized about this rivalry, trying to make sense of the 'Ms. Radio' taunt. The alleged Doyle, or someone claiming to be him, had used the intercom system to speak to the prisoners here. Mello didn't know yet what he'd used it to say. He silently cursed the schedule they were forced to adhere to, and the near-impossibility of reliably communicating with useful sources. Much longer here, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to resist the temptation to do something drastic, if only to do something.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810031.html?thread=65839919#t65839919)]

Edited 2010-02-11 06:38 (UTC)

The hallway was clear. Depth Charge moved on into the next hallway, forcing his mind away from his roommate and onto the present. What about the rest of the team tonight? There was going to be at least one other person, he figured, but what about that unsure fourth? Sokka, was it? Well, whoever they were, they’d have to fix those jelly-legs before someone broke them for him.

Edited 2010-02-11 09:29 (UTC)

[from here]

The next hallway was just around the corner, but Battler found himself pausing. He was pretty sure the nurse had escorted him in the direction he was going, but it was hard to tell. Between day and night, the area had a completely different feel to it. There was a hallway around the corner, right? At the other end, the door to the recreation field they'd been to earlier. He didn't think he was going the wrong direction, of course, but thinking through it logically like that, it would be easy to turn himself around if he wasn't remembering correctly. Luckily, a junction came up relatively fast, so the precaution proved unnecessary.

To be honest, part of him had to admit this was a little exciting. Navigating through a mostly unknown place in the dark, with nothing but a flashlight. Would one of those so-called monsters jump out at him? It was a surreal thought, the stuff of fiction, so even though his situation was quite serious, he found himself a bit disconnected from reality, as though he was living in some childish dream world.

[to here]

Edited 2010-02-12 00:15 (UTC)

[From here.]

The other thing that was swimming around in Sora's head was what they should even do tonight. Hitsugaya had asked that they first go to the shed out on the field; that was easy enough, but it was the second part of his orders that was giving Sora a harder time. The basement was definitely a tough place to head for when it was someone's first night here, and yet he knew that Riku was strong. He wouldn't want to be held back just because he was new.

At the same time, Sora wasn't sure if he wanted to drag his friends into danger like that. The entire institute was dangerous to an extent, but heading toward the basement was about the same as asking to get hurt. It didn't help that his side was still hurting him. He was doing a pretty good job of not showing it, but when push came to shove and they got into a fight, it was going to be another story.

He knew that the best option would be straight-out asking his friends for their opinions, but he was still scared for them. He didn't want to see them get hurt right after they'd come back.

Well, that just meant he'd have to try extra hard and fight as hard as he could, right? Even if he was hurting a bit, he could do that.

Heading down the hall, Sora knew that the stairs would be straight ahead. They'd figure this out one way or another.

[To here.]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810877.html?thread=65863037#t65863037)]

Ah, and now things did indeed get worse. Mihai paused, then let out a sigh as he tried to remember the correct turn. Correct, not right. Because if he thought right, he'd go right, and that might not be right. Unless it was right that was right, instead of left.

...Which way was he going again? Mihai chuckled into the darkness, which failed to provide an answer in return. At least if he had a coin he could flip it (though that landed him in front of a frustrated Kiri just as often as not). If Badou's room were nearby, he could at least sniff the air for cigarette smoke.

But standing there wouldn't get him anywhere, right way or not. Onward then, to the right, be it right or not.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810031.html?thread=65864239#t65864239)]

[From here]

There was little in terms of patient traffic, something Homura counted as fortunate. He hadn't lingered in his room, so this meant night was just beginning, and patients in turn still making their preparations. Hopefully that would translate into fewer monsters out during this early hour, though Homura wouldn't take their absence for granted. His sword remained at the ready, and his pace delayed enough to allow him time to defend, should something strike out from the shadows.

[To here]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/808560.html?thread=65874544#t65874544)]

Another hallway Tyki knew quite well by now. Huh, if he remained in this place long enough he might not even need a map anymore.

Not really something to look forward to, he supposed. Even the Noah of Pleasure could get bored here...

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810031.html?thread=65875503#t65875503)]

[From here.]

And there was his first hallway pal of the night. Yet another redhead. Peter sidled past him, pretending that he wasn't dressed in what looked like the most garish wet suit ever made and hoping that the man would just...conveniently look the other way the whole time.

He would kill to be crawling on the ceiling right now. Seriously. Everything would be so much easier.

[To here.]

Edited 2010-02-11 22:13 (UTC)

[From here to here.]

Edited 2010-02-13 23:08 (UTC)

(no subject)

tightsofmight - 2010-02-14 13:46 (UTC) - Expand

[From here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/812485.html)]

Where were all the guards? The place was crawling with nurses during the day, but the only people Carter had seen so far were other people in the grey-and-smiles prisoner uniforms. Unless they'd stationed an army at the doors this place seemed less escapeproof than Stalag 13, and yet nobody seemed to have found a way of escaping yet. Carter furrowed his brow in thought, sweeping his flashlight around the corner.

Not that he could see why anyone would want to escape. If they didn't make it out by tomorrow morning Carter wouldn't be all that disappointed.

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/811750.html#comments)]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810877.html?thread=65884285#t65884285)]

After locating a door and slowly pushing it open, Xemnas met the sight of another corridor. A corridor that was as equally dark and silent as the ones he had already passed through, but with a notable difference of it having two directions to pick from. Unfortunately, the small beam of his flashlight did not illuminate far enough to be able to perceive that what may have been at the end of either, making the choice of which direction to take a random one.

Closing the door softly behind him, the Nobody's amber eyes glanced around once more before choosing to head right.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810031.html?thread=65890607#t65890607)]

[From here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/811750.html?thread=65885414#t65885414)]

By the next hallway Carter had abandoned all premise of sneakery and was practically sauntering down the hallway, his flashlight held low only to make sure he didn't trip over anything. This was a piece of cake, or maybe a spoonful of delicious ice cream.

Any bad mood he'd received earlier today was fully evaporated, with a comfy room behind him and potential explosives in front of him.

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810877.html)]

Aerith had the first few hallways down. The only thing she'd had to remember was to turn left once she'd made it to the main one. If she hadn't been careful, she might've missed it, but she had a date to keep! Of course, she had to shine her light down a few hallways and almost take a few wrong turns before he realized she wasn't quite in the right place. It looked like it was a little further up...

[ From here. ]

Yeah, this was the main hall all right. As in: the same main hall that Sylar walked through every single night.

He didn't even stop to figure out what direction he wanted to go; he was sick of this building, and as much as he knew that it wouldn't matter in the morning, he wanted to get as far away from it as he could.

So he headed to the left, toward the Rec Field.

[ To here. ]

Edited 2010-02-12 02:45 (UTC)

[From here.]

The Scarecrow made it through another hallway, not exactly sure what it was he intended to do during the evening. Depth Charge had said he was headed for the basement, so heading upstairs would cover more ground. The immediate concern with the second floor was the Mangled Witch. Perhaps if he could avoid that end of the hallway, he could dodge her entirely? He and Depth Charge had barely managed to handle her- alone, he'd be an easy target.

He clicked the button on his flashlight off and on and trailed his hand along the wall, feeling neither. He stopped his walk, deciding it might be best if he waited out the clever little thing's effects.

[Abe]

[From here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/808264.html?thread=65919048#t65919048)]

Someone was flickering a light down the corridor. It was a curious action and when Abe drew close to find out what was going on he found it was none other than the very being he'd been looking for.

"Scarecrow," Abe called out softly, unable to hide a small note of relief at finding him safe. He scampered up to him, hand on the baseball bat just in case something was already after the poor ex-golem. The Scarecrow practically screamed 'eat me' to a bumper in the night of the sharp toothed persuasion.

(no subject)

scarefaux - 2010-02-12 07:01 (UTC) - Expand

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bprd-fishman.livejournal.com - 2010-02-12 19:49 (UTC) - Expand

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bprd-fishman.livejournal.com - 2010-02-12 19:52 (UTC) - Expand

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scarefaux - 2010-02-12 21:07 (UTC) - Expand

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bprd-fishman.livejournal.com - 2010-02-12 23:30 (UTC) - Expand

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scarefaux - 2010-02-13 20:56 (UTC) - Expand

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810877.html?thread=65924989#t65924989)]

As soon as they turned he noted a flashlight flickering with intent, a steady pulse and not the weakening of low batteries. He paused, listening, but when another voice spoke he decided that it was a signal of some kind and resumed passage. "I think Landel read us straight through when we got here," he continued, "but since then, everything's been deduction based on observa--" Shikamaru paused mid-thought, wincing. Why the hell would someone flick a light as a signal, anyway? Was it really too much of a bother to just stand there? The light was so bright that it was practically audible, and though he cringed and hesitated for less than a second, but he didn't resume speaking for another three. "-on observation. It's made mistakes based on minute details." He didn't look over, sure that Kakashi understood the implications of his words. As long as they could hide or disguise revealing details of their behavior, they could protect themselves in the future. The headache remained, sharpening with each flicker, but if he focused, concentration was not impossible.

His pace hastened. Hopefully, the next hallway's occupants would have a less troublesome way of drawing each other's attention.

"Well, that made more sense than wishing you a happy birthday." Kakashi nodded when Shikamaru confirmed that Sai had the metal for Leon, then fell into the same pace as the other ninja when they began to move. Having not seen Shikamaru for awhile (or at least, what passed for that concept withint Landel's), Kakashi paid particular attention to the chuunin. This held especially true when he began to offer up his theory on how Landel might be deciding the best ways to torture them. And it was interesting, definitely something worth considering.

But so was the gap in Shikamaru's words.

Had it been the light? Kakashi found it annoying, since they would have to preserve their night vision for more effective movement. Yet that's all it was--an annoyance, barely worth considering, and ultimately, easily ignored. So why had it made Shikamaru stop mid-sentence like that? Kakashi didn't say anything in reply to the idea at first, instead taking the moment to turn the corner, after a pause of his own to check for any signs of danger.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/808264.html?thread=65943880#t65943880)]

[From here.]

Edgar lit his flashbulb as he neared the main hall, his hopes high for spotting Celes amongst the numerous people wandering the corridor. He kept a slow pace, eyeing each head that passed him carefully. Then again, he'd not seen her throughout the day- what were the chances he'd spot her at night?

[To here.]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/808025.html?thread=65922905#t65922905).]

Leonard made it into the hall as other people were passing though. He paid them little attention. He didn't care why the power was out, nor why the patients were running in every direction- They're probably on a similar agenda. They probably belong here. I don't- I don't know how long I've been here or how I got here in the first place, but I'm not surprised this is where someone like me would end up. Sammy was institutionalized, after all, but he couldn't handle it. He belonged in a place like this.

He found a spot along the wall and pulled his map from his journal. He needed to find the shortest route, keep his mind on what he was doing. Keep it in mind.

[Neku]

[[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/811133.html?thread=66017661#t66017661)]]

Okay, so now it was time to find Josh and... was that Leonard? Given what Leonard had told him before, he really was just as lost as he looked. Well, it wasn't like Josh could object to the man if he invited him along again, and Neku sure as hell didn't want to feel responsible if something happened to the amnesiac.

"Hey," he tried, waving a hand to flag the other down. He made sure to keep his light low and even tried a half-hearted smile as he approached. Hopefully it would come off as friendly and not just creepy.

"I'm Neku. We met earlier um- try your pictures," he figured that was probably the most direct route and... Neku had never had trouble being blunt when he had to.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/812854.html?thread=65846070#t65846070).]

Remy went through the door that was just at the end of the hallway his room was on, and made it into the bigger corridor without incident.

His instinct was to stay close to the walls. There were a few other people here, but now, he wasn't afraid that they would try to hurt him if they saw him: he was getting used to the knowledge that the way they saw him wasn't the way he saw himself.

But the way they saw him was a lie, wasn't it? It was almost the same kind of lie that he'd been living in Paris, cooking at Gusteau's and letting Linguini take the credit for it. Any way he tried to look at it, he was coming to the same conclusion: he might not feel trapped in the human body he'd been given, but it was still weird for him to have it. So why did they do it?

He moved, at an easy pace, into the next hallway.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/808560.html?thread=65935728#t65935728).]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810877.html?thread=65932669#t65932669)]

The halls around here kind of looked the same, but at least the map could help Allen not get all turned around and backwards.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/810031.html?thread=65933871#t65933871)]

[from here]

Thankfully, Klavier wasn't without his own alternate plans for the evening. He was meeting with Nigredo to embark on what may or may not turn out to be a suicide mission. He certainly was not so idiotic as to do something if he didn't think there was a fair chance of getting through it, but as the phrase said, it was a "chance," not a "guarantee." Still, it would be worth it if he and Nigredo's reasoning was as sound as they believed.

The prosecutor had been here over a week already. Not as long as others here, but far too long to be considered acceptable by his standards. If traditional means weren't working, he would have to adjust and up the ante to focus on more dangerous leads. Like this one. Well, maybe he should see how tonight went before he decided risking his safety was something he wanted to do for the sake of possible information.

[to here]

[from here]

There had been two choices in directions and he had a feeling both would land him in the same place, but he remembered Sora and Kairi's words from earlier. It would probably be wisest to take the closest set of stairs.

He realized he had no idea what he would be doing tonight. Would they be fighting? Learning things about this place? Would they get anywhere? Despite Sora's willingness to mention the club, Riku had no idea what to expect from the whole ordeal. For all he knew, the club just wanted to sit around and dawdle. He'd have to hear what his friend would have to say when they got there, because he definitely didn't bother to check back at the bulletin board.

But since he was in this hall, he figured he had only a little more to go. Since he hadn't seen his friend lurking up ahead or behind him, he only expected that Sora was either way behind him or already there. Unsurprising on the latter—though Riku still didn't have a witty reason for why he fell so far behind.

[to here]

[from here]

He warred within himself. Denial. Fabrication. He knew the definitions well. Placing them to suit himself however... He could remain the way he was and deny all accusations. What, pray tell, was he denying? Life? Love? Those had never been for him anyway. Though, a part of him admitted... He had denied that. Even though he had already understood the truth.

[to here]

[From here.]

While it was possible there were a few capable wanderers around here that Harvey could have convinced to come with him (he knew full-well how persuasive he was, even if the burn wounds on his face tended to cramp his style these days), it was too hectic with people heading in and out of the closest block of rooms. He'd rather get closer to the stairwell and look around there, and so he decided to keep on moving.

And if he didn't find someone? He wasn't opposed to heading up by himself. He and Jason hadn't been attacked the last time they'd gone up there, so there was a chance he'd luck out once more. Not that he was willing to count on that happening, but it was at least possible.

[To here.]

Bart shot down the halls at his (sadly reduced) top speed, more worried about keeping Tim waiting than being spotted. Besides, with everybody dressed the same and the hallways this dark, it wasn't like anyone would ever be able to identify him anyway, right?

The door closed behind McCoy as he stepped into a long corridor. It was starting to look busy, the ancient flashlight catching glimpses of patients moving about. He stepped aside for one, then moved further on down the hallway.

Spock had said his room was around M27. His own block looked like it had numbered from the 40s and up, so his room was likely somewhere down here. Maybe. That was provided he didn't get eaten by the next creature that happened to make its way past the doors before he found out whether he was right or wrong.

((From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/811133.html?thread=66075773#t66075773).))

A few patients had been in the hallway as Spock silently passed through, his light illuminating his path. He managed to exit the block without encountering any hostile patients or creatures, which was rather fortunate, considering the incident he'd heard from McCoy's room last night.

Not long after he'd stepped into the next hall, he caught sight of a familiar medic's uniform. Dr. McCoy was looking for him, no doubt. The Vulcan promptly approached him as he regarded the man with a neutral expression.

"Good evening, Doctor," he softly greeted. "You are prepared to begin our mission?"