http://hes-deadjim.livejournal.com/ (
hes-deadjim.livejournal.com) wrote in
damned_institute2010-05-15 02:15 pm
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Entry tags:
- depth charge,
- hayes,
- kadaj,
- kibitoshin,
- matt,
- mccoy,
- prussia,
- reeve,
- the scarecrow,
- two-face,
- venom
Night 49: M41-50 Hallway
McCoy hadn't managed to get any sleep this time, instead spent the rest of the dinner nearly pacing with a nervous energy that seemed to to well up out of nowhere. He could feel it this time, his mind starting to drift on its own, back to those half-remembered thoughts earlier in the day, the ones that had had involved Chekov, Sulu. He couldn't remember the full details, he might as well have attempted to go catching smoke for all the good trying did, but it had something to do with their promotions. Sometimes Jim drifted in there, carrying some scars he didn't remember him having, and for some reason, the thought of him prompted a sense of wariness that shouldn't have been there.
He resisted actually pacing. He'd settled for lying on the bed and trying to get some rest. It was the sensible thing to do, because who knew how many hours they were actually getting of rest here? Humans needed a certain amount. He wasn't any different. And getting a few hour's shut-eye might be just the thing for the way he'd drifted off today and just now.
McCoy found himself instead staring at the ceiling, hands folded over his chest. There was that strange sensation that his limbs weren't quite long enough, his body temperature too low even though McCoy knew it was perfectly fine for a human. The room felt overly small, growing warmer by the minute...
The doctor was on his feet the moment the intercom sounded, relief flooding through him. He couldn't say he liked the sound of changes when it came to the Head Doctor. But to get out of this room and get his mind on work, instead of allowing it free reign to wander? An idle mind was a devil's workshop, something he'd learned in his youth.
He gathered his things quickly and stepped out into the hallway.
[to here]
He resisted actually pacing. He'd settled for lying on the bed and trying to get some rest. It was the sensible thing to do, because who knew how many hours they were actually getting of rest here? Humans needed a certain amount. He wasn't any different. And getting a few hour's shut-eye might be just the thing for the way he'd drifted off today and just now.
McCoy found himself instead staring at the ceiling, hands folded over his chest. There was that strange sensation that his limbs weren't quite long enough, his body temperature too low even though McCoy knew it was perfectly fine for a human. The room felt overly small, growing warmer by the minute...
The doctor was on his feet the moment the intercom sounded, relief flooding through him. He couldn't say he liked the sound of changes when it came to the Head Doctor. But to get out of this room and get his mind on work, instead of allowing it free reign to wander? An idle mind was a devil's workshop, something he'd learned in his youth.
He gathered his things quickly and stepped out into the hallway.
[to here]
M41
He moved more slowly now than before, taking a good look at everyone he saw and a quick peek through any doors that were open.
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He didn't have any time to ponder about the mental age of his roommate. He needed to deliver the blood to Edward and get the information he required or all of his effort was in vain. It was not going to be.
As he walked through the darkness, the doctor's words wandered through his mind, no longer ignored in favor of getting ready for the night. Visitors...?
The thought stung as much as it did amuse. A visitor? Who would visit him?
[To here]
M42
Alright. Crowbar: check. Flashlight: check (although if he wasn't careful he was going to run out of batteries pretty soon). He wouldn't need a map tonight, seeing how he pretty much had a fair idea of the layout on the second floor by now, but it was worth having one in his back pocket just in case, along with his back-up shears. Primus, by Institute standards he was a walking arms factory.
Nodding briefly to the Scarecrow and giving him the usual 'don't-do-anything-I-would-do' look, Depth Charge opened the door and slipped out into the hallway with a click of his flashlight.
Re: M42
A metal chink came from the drawer as he opened it- the knife Depth Charge had given him the night before slid along the bottom, rolling against his light. The Scarecrow took it in hand, wondering if he should carry it. His roommate had just given him the stay-out-of-trouble look not a minute before and encouraged he defend himself, should it come to it. On the other hand, he wasn't sure he knew how to use it effectively, aside from eating. Even then, his skills were questionable at best.
Returning the blade to the drawer, the strawman grabbed his flashlight and left quickly. If he was going to accomplish anything, he'd have to get moving.
[To here.]
From M49
He headed out a few minutes after Venom had, having first taken a moment to pick over the remains of his dinner first. He contemplated changing into the boots in his closet again or grabbing the coat, as well; the weather outside would be ideal for covering an escape, but it could also make unfamiliar terrain more hazardous than it may have been otherwise. Between his past attempts to get out and what Dr. Jones had said about it, maybe sticking inside tonight would be a good idea. All he'd have to do was find the bastard behind bringing him here and beat the shit out of him.
With that in mind, Prussia grabbed his torch and headed out.
[To here]
M47
"Tonight I was hoping we would be able to go over the wall and attempt to rid myself of some of this magic," Artemis said, getting his sword with his good arm. Though how he was going to use it was another question entirely. "While I'm still refreshed from last night's silence."
Re: M47
Since Haku was sure that Artemis would rather have help than put it all on Haku's shoudlers, even though he knew he was quite capable.
Re: M47
A roll of thunder punctuated his sentence, and Artemis frowned a little at the ceiling. "Apparently we're going to be getting wet."
Re: M47
"If you're ready, I'll be following you."
Re: M47
Acorns tucked carefully into his pocket (just in case he could reverse the process with an acorn as much as he could gain magic from one), he opened the door with his good arm and set out with Haku at his side.
(To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/885357.html?thread=69458797#t69458797))
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The past few nights he'd wandered out and run into people, so he could always fall back on that. He liked to have things worked out in advance, but that had become more difficult with Jason's disappearance. He was pretty sure he could classify it as such at this point, and... honestly, he was pissed. What the hell had that kid allowed to happen to him? He'd just disappeared without giving Harvey any useful information?
If Jason ever did resurface, he was really going to get it. Harvey wasn't interested in playing around anymore.
That was all a moot point now, though. Having collected his flashlight and metal pipe while the announcements were going on, Harvey was ready by the time the lights went out. He had those syringes and scalpels, too, but he didn't think he'd have much need for them on a random outing. So with that all taken care of, he grabbed lastly for his maps and then nodded to his roommate. Lunge didn't need his pity, and so he said nothing about the sleep studies before taking his leave.
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M44
Well, if he went left, he hit a wall, so Matt figured that going right was his only bet at this point. Once he made it out of this maze of patient rooms, it would be simple for him to locate the front door.
He goes right, watching out for any boogeymen in the darkness.
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M45
Logan grabbed his flashlight and headed out into the hall. The caf had had two doors besides the entrance and the one to the kitchen, and he had a vague interest in what was behind them.
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Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodnesss-
He'd tried so hard all day! There wasn’t an inch of Doyleton Kibitoshin hadn’t scoured, not a single building he’d left unsearched, not one stone he’d not turned, and still, still he couldn’t find either Trunks or Dahlia. He’d even spent most of the trip wriggling around in his seat trying to get a better look at everyone else on the bus, and even on the buses he could just about see outside of his window. There was a chance they’d been left back at the Institute, yes, but… but…
This was hopeless. He didn’t have their fake names, so he couldn’t even ask his nurse about them. Why couldn’t he have been more organised, or better prepared, or-- or anything like that, like Haseo had told him to be? How had he managed to let them both slip away from him? Even worse, what kind of a guardian did that make him?
He slunk back down into his seat, staring dejectedly down at his desk. It was night, but the thought of going out all by himself was just unbearable. Goodness only knew, if he couldn’t even take care of two people, his own chances must have been pretty pathetic. But at the same time, the thought of sitting around all night was even worse. Somehow, he hadn't quite realised just how lonely it would be, all by himself. How did Franziska do it, night after night?
W-well... even if he was probably the worst guardian in the entire universe, he still had to do something. Even if it meant just getting in someone else's way or being a burden. There had to be something he was good at. Didn't there?
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Rinrei, in the Institute's walls. Whether she was brought as herself or as Lily, Homura felt true fear thinking of her facing some of the horrors he'd encountered--much less the Institute's experimentation.
It was all the more reason to move quickly. Homura had changed into his clothes almost immediately on his return, and gathered the few items he'd carry with him into the night: his sword, his light, and his radio. Yet depending on what happened, Homura already suspected that he might not be able to follow any clues that might be broadcast. If Rinrei was present, he'd keep her from harm, even at the risk of missing a piece of information. And even if she wasn't, there was still Okita to consider. Homura hadn't been able to fully share Heiji's store, meaning the man likely still wanted blood. Without knowing Sai's room number, however, Homura could only hope to catch Okita before he made it too far. Though there were only a few halls between them, Homura couldn't count on the proximity when dealing with his friend, which was why he hurried from the room shortly after the doors had opened.
[To here]
M45
He took the radio, the flashlight, journals, pens. There was a coat in the closet, and after making a quick tear in the lining he was able to keep all of his meager supplies in the garment. He discarded the slippers for a pair of boots, but despite all of this he still felt naked. He was going to need a weapon if he intended to escape, and nothing in the room looked promising. The flashlight might help against the average civilian, but any guard would be able to put a quick stop to that.
Belatedly, Reeve noticed a lack of commotion outside. He edged towards the door, wondering where his distraction had gone. Instead of finding his roommate being dragged back to him, the hallways was empty save for the murmur of people conversing. Lots of people. The power was out, and from what he could see, each individual was wearing the same uniform he was. His heart sped up with dangerous hope; whether or not someone had intervened for his sake, this was an opportunity to not be missed.
Reeve inhaled deeply. One way or another, he refused to return to Shin-Ra custody. He couldn't put AVALANCHE (whatever remained of them) at risk now, and he was a security risk if he stayed in Shin-Ra's hands. It wasn't really all that noble, considering that if he didn't escape, he was as good as dead anyway. He exited quickly before his resolve wavered.
Re: M45
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But getting distracted by a single paltry victory in the evening wasn't going to get him anywhere during the night. As the lights flickered, Lunge's mind was already beginning to process the information he'd heard from Landel's last broadcast: recording it had been shaky, but after a few false starts he was almost positive he had managed to memorise the bulk of the message. The key parts, at least.
Curious how in the moment between day and night, an extra presence had been added to Landel's room. There was Landel himself, of course, and Nurse Lydia- but who was the new friend? He wasn't aware of any extra players currently involved in the Institute aside from Jill, and he was fairly certain that he would have known by now had Jill been kidnapped during his-- his night out.
Someone new, then. Someone new who was currently being held prisoner by Landel- and in some degree of pain, from the sounds of things.
Resisting the urge to go straight to Dent's bed and take his gun was simple work as he armed himself with his own decidedly less fearsome weapons: a flashlight, a knife, and his own broken memory. Time to leave, then.