damned_institute | Night 49: M11-M20 Hallway

[M16]

Edgar made note of the intercom's nightly message. Visitors. He'd heard the prisoners received them on occasion, but hadn't put much thought into the matter. There were more pressing concerns at the moment.

"I've not had much opportunity to try escaping yet," he told Gren as he thumbed through his journal, taking note of the supplies he still needed. "Even if we could, there's still the matter of getting back to our individual homelands. It can't be as easy as leaving this place and finding a ship headed in the right direction. It's even more complicated for those who claim to be from different times entirely."

Then there was what he'd seen on the board- stories of patients being "released," as the nursemaids put it. Edgar doubted the validity of being "released" by the institution as a method of escape. It was more likely those who had been removed from the ranks had been killed, or perhaps had submitted to the brainwashing they were trying to-

The machinist froze as his mind entertained a dark thought. Celes. Her words just the day before had reflected someone who was ready to give up, her spirit more than battered from its long battle with imprisonment. If Luxord could disappear without notice...

He rose from his chair, the metal scraping against the floor slightly. Pulling the desk drawer open, he took his light and radio. "You'll have to forgive me, Gren, but there's something important I have to check." He looked over his shoulder at the other man, feeling a little guilty for leaving him with little explanation of the situation into which he'd been thrust. Edgar had been there himself once, and not everyone had enough skill in combat to defend themselves. "It might be best that we stick together for this evening. This place is more dangerous than it seems during the night."

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"Right, I'll do that," she replied, turning away to at least keep up a pretense of looking through Kakashi's things. As much as she wished it, it wasn't going to change the facts that were staring her right in the face. Her flashlight skimmed over the obvious places, though she would hesitate here or there, just to make sure she checked it thoroughly.

"Be right behind you," she added.

She told herself she'd cried enough just finding out that her teacher was dead in their world. That even if they made it back, he probably wouldn't be there. But it didn't make the reality any easier to cope with. Hope could be a cruel thing sometimes and the longer she held onto it, sometimes just meant it was all the harder in the end.

Shikamaru gave a quick nod, which he didn't bother waiting to see if she caught before he left the room and started back toward his own. Again, he felt an indistinct twinge of concern, but he knew that she'd sort herself out. People always did.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/886165.html?thread=69856917#t69856917)]

Thankfully, as she sat on the empty bed, she managed to hold back her tears. That wasn't to say that it didn't take several moments of forcing her breath not to hitch and her eyes not to water, but somehow she managed. There was the possibility, slim as it might be, that this was something else, but who could be sure? Nothing was positive here.

And unfortunately, whether or not she wanted to spend the rest of the night moping, they had work to do. Work that required her to be focused, attentive, and all the things she didn't feel much like doing.

Sparing a few more moments for deep breaths and forcing herself not to think about what all the facts added up to, she picked up her things, double-checked her pouches and medicine bags, and headed out the door.

[[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/886165.html?thread=69856917#t69856917)]]

Night 49: M11-M20 Hallway

Re: M18

Re: M18

Re: M18