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damned_institute2010-02-13 02:16 pm
fuzzy-diablo.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2010-02-13 02:16 pm
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Nightshift 47: Janitor's Closet
[BAMF!]
Kurt stumbled a little as he arrived in the closet in a puff of sulfuric smoke. While he was elated that he'd made it and was putting his teleportation to good use, his head was also swimming from what felt like being forcibly squeezed through the alternate universe he passed through whenever he teleported. After steadying himself on a nearby shelf, Kurt began looking around the shelves. He had five minutes before Terry came after him, probably even less before Terry started to worry.
Well. At least this time the floor wasn't covered in chemical cocktail. That made it much easier to look around without having to cover his mouth or cough out the stench of cleaning fluid.
He put his hand on the handcart and began looking around for other useful things. Rolling the cart around as he looked, Kurt also gathered up three longer pipes and stuck the toolkit on the handcart. He took one final look around, then closed his eyes, looking for his center.
Kurt stumbled a little as he arrived in the closet in a puff of sulfuric smoke. While he was elated that he'd made it and was putting his teleportation to good use, his head was also swimming from what felt like being forcibly squeezed through the alternate universe he passed through whenever he teleported. After steadying himself on a nearby shelf, Kurt began looking around the shelves. He had five minutes before Terry came after him, probably even less before Terry started to worry.
Well. At least this time the floor wasn't covered in chemical cocktail. That made it much easier to look around without having to cover his mouth or cough out the stench of cleaning fluid.
He put his hand on the handcart and began looking around for other useful things. Rolling the cart around as he looked, Kurt also gathered up three longer pipes and stuck the toolkit on the handcart. He took one final look around, then closed his eyes, looking for his center.
no subject
no subject
Chekov pushed the door open, clicking on his flashlight again and aiming it at various spots in the room. Closet--a closet that looked very much like the storage area they'd just been in. If they were all like this, Chekov had to wonder how efficient it was to keep the same sorts of things in three different places. It would be convenient... if they all weren't located in the same general vicinity.
He began noting things down as he saw them, frowning a little when he noticed some disturbed supplies on the floor. He'd had to open the door himself, so what had caused those things to move...?
Tucking the map away again, he cast his light over the room again. The beam fell on the door at the back, though Chekov found himself hesitant to go in there and potentially trap themselves by putting an attacker between the door and himself and the Captain.
"Zat should be ze other storage area," Chekov said warily after confirming that that's where the door should have led.
no subject
It did look rather familiar here — or at least, haphazard organization had a way of making one mess look the same as another. As before, the available space was just narrow enough to permit to two men to search around, but it was easy to get a sense of their available resources within a minute.
"What's that smell?" Kirk wondered idly, moving around Chekov as the ensign took his notes. He picked up a few small things here and there as he looked around: a roll of industrial-looking tape, an extension cord, a box cutter and a length of metal pipe a few feet long. Most of this he tossed into his bag, which took the added weight without much complaint, but much more and he'd have to set it down if they were forced to run.
Which reminded him that they needed some kind of weapon, even something as comically low-tech as Spock's baseball bat. The pipe had a good heft to it, but Kirk would prefer something with more range. The door to the other storage area turned out to be locked as well, but in a similar rusted state. Motioning for Chekov to help light his way, Kirk switched off his flashlight and grabbed the length of pipe instead. He had the next room open in a few solid hits to the door knob.
[to here]
no subject
"Or something that could pass as a weapon, anyway," Kirk amended as he looked over the janitor's closet for a second time. Now was not the time to be picky — anything they had on hand was better than nothing at all. Quite possibly he would've been killed on the Recreational Field if Bill hadn't thought to bring his flashlight.
A broom, then. No points for style, but the wooden handle packed a decent amount of hurt, and looked sturdier than a pool-cue, which Kirk had used several times before in a pinch. He tied his bag of goods to the broom-end of it to allow himself to carry his flashlight in the other hand.
"Maybe you should grab something too," he remarked, glancing back at Chekov. "You never know what we might encounter next."