damned_institute | Night 47: General Storage

( literally crashing into the room from here. )

Bella fell into the room and crashed onto the floor with a loud thud and a groan, landing on the shoulder she had previously been crashing into the door with. The impact caused her to let out a soft cry in response, and she lay on the floor for a second before sitting up and rubbing at the pained area. She could practically feel the bruise starting to form.

It would hurt in the morning, but it was worth it.

Pushing herself to stand, Bella lifted her flashlight and looked around the room, biting her lip as she peered around. White tile, gray walls ... another bland room.

She could see shelves upon shelves upon shelves of boxes, followed by even what appeared to be cabinets full of other things. As much as she wanted to explode and look around, she had what she wanted in mind, and that was that.

Moving quickly to the boxes of things, she placed her flashlight on the shelf and began to tear through the boxes, opening the plastic to find gloves, shoe coverings, ... bandages and first aid kits.

Grinning to herself, she picked out a few rolls of bandages and gauze and shoved them into her pockets, grabbing tightly onto one of the first aid kits before grabbing back onto her flashlight with her free hand.

Done.

Feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline, Bella moved back towards the entrance of the room and headed out.

( blahhhh. )

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[from here]

Kirk nudged the door the rest of the way open with his hand, noting how someone had broken their way in instead of unlocking the rusted doorknob. He shone his flashlight inside: a simple room, decorated in the same spare manner as the corridors of the Institute, filled with cabinets and stacked boxes which made it difficult to get a clear view of the whole area. Someone had clearly been in here before them, judging from the open boxes — but how long ago? Minutes? Hours? Before the night had even started?

If something had been planted here, it wouldn't be easy to find. On the other hand, even if it wasn't the supposed prize alluded to by the radio, he could see a few things which would be of interest to Bones, at least. Glancing back once at Chekov, Kirk walked in, drawn to what appeared to be an askew cabinet containing small first aid kits.

Chekov entered as well, taking note of what was in the room and marking down a few of the more visible contents on the map. Documenting what was where was another important part of cartography, after all. If there was need for something in this room later in their time here, it would be easier and safer to locate it when they already knew where it was.

Once he'd made inventory of most things in the room, Chekov turned his light on the rows of boxes. He had no idea what they were looking for, to be perfectly honest. The navigator pulled down a box, nearly buckling under its weight. When he got it down to the floor and opened it, he found it full of gowns and doctor's jackets. Well... extremely old gowns and doctor's jackets, he guessed. It was still a little disorienting, being this far in the past.

"Do you have any idea what we are looking for, Keptain?" Chekov asked hopefully, holding up one of the gowns awkwardly.

(sorry for the delay ;3;)

Kirk surveyed the room again with his flashlight. "Anything we can use," he replied — which wasn't much, admittedly. If there had been something truly useful in this storage area, it had been taken by whoever had been here before them. The kit in his hand contained extremely rudimentary supplies, the kind of thing they kept in the Iowa farmhouse for when Jim fell out of a tree, dusty from the years spent under the bathroom sink. Still, he'd rather have this than nothing for the next time a monster's claws tore up his shirt.

Holding it meant his hands were full, however. Inspired by the ensign's discovery, Kirk strode over and fished out a white jacket, finding it to be made of suitably sturdy cotton material. He set his flashlight down and in a few seconds had tied to sleeves to create a makeshift sack, which he filled with just a couple of things: the little first aid kit, gauze and bandages, nothing so weighty that it slowed him down at all.

"Next room," he said decisively. "We have a lot to go through."

[to here]

[From here.]

Edgar stepped into the doorway first, moving his light into the corners of the room, down the walls. Boxes opened, items on the floor in a disarray, cabinets open- it didn't appear there had been a struggle in the room. It was more likely the room had simply been ransacked earlier.

"It looks safe enough," he said to Yuna, focusing his light on some of the items on the floor. Near the cabinets, there they were- the pressurized tanks. The machinist breathed a sigh of relief as he moved toward them, pleased to see they were still in the room. He tucked his light under his arm and lifted one of them, gauging the weight- not too heavy, though they were definitely cumbersome. He scanned the room quickly, looking for a practical way to carry them. He couldn't go with his initial plan of using one of the wheelchairs- getting the tanks past that monster in the hall would be especially treacherous.

"Well, these are the items we came so far for," he noted to his companion, taking another look around the room for anything else he could use. Might as well look, since they came all that way.

Yuna breathed a sigh of relief when they reached their destination, and put the bat down by her foot for a moment.

Hey, it looked like someone else had been here! But it looked like the thing Edgar wanted was still here, Yuna observed, following him with her light, which was good. It looked heavy, though.

Yuna nodded at Edgar's comment, and then dropped her arms, letting the light's beam illuminate her shoes. She'd just rest her arms for a moment. "Anything else useful in here?" she asked. From her cursory scan of the room, it held mostly stuff Yuna was unfamiliar with; she just didn't know enough about machina. Her guess was that Edgar's world didn't carry that same stigma. "It looks very...complicated."

"I found some goggles in here on my last visit," he said, shining his light around the floor. "From the looks of it, there are some medical supplies here, as well." He knelt and picked up a stray roll of gauze, pocketing it. It could prove useful.

Another glance around the room left him with few ideas of how to transport the tanks. He could carry one easily, though it'd leave him with no free hands. He had hoped to get two, but carrying one of the cylinders would be awkward enough...

His eyes landed on an open box on the floor and to its contents: spare gowns and medical jackets. Kneeling next to the box, he pulled one of the thicker jackets, tying the sleeves and lower edges together to fashion himself a crude bag. He stood and moved toward the tanks, grabbing two and tucking them into the jacket-bag. He gave it a lift, hearing the two tanks clink together- it didn't look great, but it'd be functional, allowing him to carry two tanks at once.

He heaved the bag over his shoulder, keeping hold of the knots in the fabric with his left hand while his right held his flashlight. He listened a moment, making sure the fabric wasn't too strained- it seemed to hold, and the weight was easier to carry on his back. "I believe I'm ready," he said. "Did you take a look around? We came so far- I'd hate for you to leave empty-handed."

"Medical?" Was any medical 'equipment' aside from ethers necessary? ...Um.

And this world had a strange concept of bags.... Yuna would offer to take one of those things if her hands weren't already full. But, it looked like Edgar had it covered! (Literally.) "I'm good!" Yuna couldn't carry it, after all. "Do you need anything else? That I can carry in a bag?" Yuna could rest it on the arm with the light! Or carry it on her shoulder like Edgar. It'd probably jostle, but it was an option.

And...Yuna wasn't keen on returning to that hallway. If they could delay it for just a second longer....

"Medical," Edgar repeated. "Bandages and the like. You know, in case someone gets injured." He circled the room again, scanning some of the shelves a final time, grabbing a roll of tape before nearly running into something. He turned his light to the object- some sort of a four-legged cane? He tapped his light on the metal walker, listening. Hollow, but it could come in handy; however, it would have to wait for another night: his hands were already full, and the monster in the hallway prevented him from taking more than he could comfortably carry. He made a mental note to remember its location for future inventions- its four-legged structure gave it a lot of potential.

"From the looks of it, potions are either kept elsewhere or don't exist at all in this world," he commented. "Anyway, it'd probably be best if you kept your arms mostly free of items, since you're the only one of us with a viable weapon."

He caught sight of Yuna's face, barely illuminated by the lights in their hands. "Is something the matter?"

No potions? ...Oh, that explained it. That was...inconvenient. Guess she should get something of the like, then, she thought, raising the light to begin searching.

"That's true," Yuna agreed regretfully. She was going to have to drop the light in the first place, and she didn't want to break whatever else she was carrying by dropping it. Still, they might not encounter anything—er, no, they had to go through that hallway again to get back to Edgar's room.

"Um, it's nothing!" Yuna said quickly, moving over to something that might look like cloth on a shelf. Cloth counted as medical equipment, right? Or, maybe, umm...

Hey wait. "...Oh! Sir Edgar, should we switch lights?"

Night 47: General Storage

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