Night 48: Equipment/Chemical Storage

[anemptydecapo]

[Breaking down doors since the last time he broke a door~]

The now broken knob to the door was stubbornly ignored as it rolled across the floor, as was the majority of the room. The assassin instead immediately made his way to the yellow cabinets ahead and pried them open. Bottle upon bottle of dangers chemicals? Hm... It didn't look like any of them were empty. He'd have to do that himself. Searching the blue cabinets did prove his search for the syringes fruitful, however.

He always did want to bring himself to have mercy on his captors when they made things easy for him.

It was strange. As he carefully made work emptying what containers he could into the spare beakers (which in itself was off. As much as he had studied them, he'd never gotten to work with many chemicals before despite his namesake), it felt... Lighter now. The weight in his chest, that is. It felt easier. For once in this torturous week, he felt like he was making some sort of progress.

He was willing to admit that that in itself was pathetic.

The five stolen containers now empty and dried, Venom placed the lids back on top and let them rest at the bottom of the pillowcase. One empty container was used to hold the needles, while the syringes... Well, he'd just have to be careful with letting them sit on top. If any of them broke, the entire half of this night would be a complete waste.

...Nngh. That foreign bright feeling from before soon died out at the realization that he had yet to entirely complete his mission for the night. Back at it, then...

[Holy shit, more moving.]

Comments

[runner-up-robot.livejournal.com]

"Here we are!" At last, the storage room. He quickly walked over to the yellow cabinets, and pulled them open, to find... beakers and bottles of chemicals.

"Whoops, wrong one."

On the other side, however, in the blue cabinets he found what he was looking for. A stash of surgical tools and clear containers, including boxes of surgical scissors and scalpels.

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

"Nice!" The room looked... well, not like much, but it was at least different from the white and boring that was pretty much everywhere else here. He looked over Forte's shoulder, shining his flashlight down at the stuff. The little knife things weren't much, but he could care less. "Man, I've been missin' my claws." He picked up one of the knives, checking out the edge. "Ow! Okay, these'll work." Maybe he should've been more careful about that one.

[runner-up-robot.livejournal.com]

Setting his crutches aside, Forte started looking through the shelves. The scalpels were his main interest, of course, but if he could find something else useful, all the better. There was also another small cardboard box full of what looked like blades that had been encased in plastic to make them less dangerous. He dumped them out as useless, and put a few of the small scissors in there while Beelzemon was examining the scalpels.

"Yeah, they're small but sharp." Not that he'd know from personal experience of course. He certainly hadn't stabbed his own hand during that big fight with the cat... and anyway, the tiny scar wasn't even noticeable, especially against the large discolored ones across his arm and shoulder and torso.

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

"Dah, that went right through th' glove an' everythin'!" He just got his stuff back, too! Well, he hoped it'd be like when he was a Digimon. Wait long enough, and clothing stuff just straightened itself out anyway.

Well, whatever. He was taking five of those things. They worked, so he wanted extras, in case he--okay, for when he was sure to lose them.

what no I would never delay a fast reply just to make a new icon for it why would you even say that

[runner-up-robot.livejournal.com]

Forte couldn't hold back a small smirk; at least he'd hurt himself in the middle of a battle. He also grabbed some scalpels. With half a dozen each of the small, thin scissors and the small knives in his box, he also grabbed a couple steel funnels. After all, someone might be able to use them, and it looked like strong material. He also considered grabbing some more chemicals again. Now that he was here, he was feeling greedy. On the other hand, he still didn't want to give up his crutches, and he didn't want to get attacked while he was overburdened.

"You could also grab some extra stuff to trade," he suggested to the Digimon.

Totally worth it!

[brooklynisangry.livejournal.com]

Aw, hell, why not take some more? They were just there, all left in their own box and everything. He took the whole thing once Forte had what he wanted, dumping the ones he'd already took back in there before poking around in the other shelves.

"Yeah, but I don' know what any of this stuff is." He poked at a jar of liquid with a finger, holding his flashlight up to try and make sense of the label.

[darwinism]

[ From here. ]

He made his way into the room quickly and quietly. Although Sylar wasn't really trying to avoid a fight, he wasn't raring for one either, and if someone here could recognize him, it was all the more reason to be careful. Already, he could make out the backs of two other patients and – yeah, sure enough, one of them was... Poké-Man, or whatever his name was. And dammit, from the glint of metal off their collective flashlights, it looked like they'd already gotten all the interesting stuff.

Sylar's mouth twisted in frustration as the two guys moved back to the yellow cabinets, leaving... well, not much. Sylar briefly considered turning around and clocking them both before they took the equipment too far away, but he soon realized there were some interesting items in the disarray in front of him. They hadn't taken all the sharp goodies: in fact, they'd dumped out an entire pile of plastic-covered razors in favor of the scalpels. Great stuff for makeshift shivs, which actually might be more inconspicuous than the alternative.

Glancing furtively over his shoulder, Sylar grabbed one of the empty cardboard boxes that the two had left behind and swept the razors into it. After that, he continued searching the cabinets where wingus and dingus had left off: they hadn't reached the syringes or their corresponding needles, and, Sylar realized with a small smirk, there were some different-sized magnifying glasses that they hadn't seen any use in.

Sylar carefully put a few of each item in the box, making sure not to jostle any of cases or sterile wrapping. He opted for three magnifying glasses at the low, mid, and high range of the zoom spectrum, and then realized there was a small container of... oil? He added it to the pile; could come in handy if he decided to fall back on his crafting skills.

Not that Grell needed to know that.

His satisfaction temporarily outweighing his irritation, he slunk out of the room as covertly as he'd come in.

[ Back here. ]