damned_institute | Night 49: Stairwell by Waiting Room/Lobby 1

Matt followed up the stairs, trying not to seem as uncomfortable as he really was. He stuck close to Mello with the light, knowing all too well how little the blond could really see in the dark; it seemed a bit strange to him, that he had clicked his own light off, but he just chalked that up to his friend's incessant need to convince other people that he was flawless. In Mello's head, it seemed, that was the only way to make it true, was to make it seem true to others. A worthless theory, Matt had always felt, and he'd always been surprised that Mello put so much stock in it, but he never said anything. That wasn't about to change now.

Still wary, Matt just continued to follow, glad that it seemed fairly empty on the second floor. "January 26th, 2010," he answered with a slight cold feeling invading his torso; that's where most of the shots had collected, and it suddenly felt very strange to be up and walking around. He wasn't about to explain any further, though, no matter how much poking and prodding he underwent. It was especially disturbing to think that this wasn't the Mello he had spoken to just the day before.

"So you haven't given me a call yet?" he asked, already certain of the answer. Mello's inital reaction had told him all he really needed to know, though Matt hadn't known it at the time.

Edited 2010-05-17 06:44 (UTC)

These were the stairs he hadn't made it to, last night (really only a night ago? that seemed absurd), and, not far beyond them, the room he'd walked out of, just barely. Mello still held it as a point of pride that he'd done that much, even as a part of him found bitter amusement that so small an accomplishment could've come to mean so much. Bitter, too, to realize that one person he might once have confided in was following him along, just like he'd done so often before their whole world went to shit, and to know with dark certainty that it would be easier to tell a stranger what had happened than to admit his weakness to a friend.

"No. It was November 19, 2009, for me," he told Matt, making sure to look to the right when they reached the top of the stairs. Five years hadn't cured Matt of his skittishness around people, apparently. Mello fought the urge to tell him to turn the damn light off. Knowing him, he'd do it.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/890326.html)]

Edited 2010-05-18 01:42 (UTC)

[from here]

S.T. took the empty stairs two at a time. He could manage three, but not with the flashlight off (and no moonlight here).

With each step, he added a new slogan. The Head Bastard was falling down on the usage of all available real estate.

A HEALTHY JOG
AND AN APPLE A DAY
IT'S TOO FUCKING LATE
TO KEEP THE
DOCTORS AWAY
BURMA-SHAVE

[to here]

Edited 2010-05-18 03:27 (UTC)

[From here.]

Once they were on their way up, Sora let go of Neku, not wanting to be too pushy. What he only realized once he was halfway up the stairwell was that he still hadn't checked with Neku about whether or not he knew where they were going. Sora realized that he was the one who should have all the information, and he made a mental note to get a hold of Naminé tomorrow so he could see if she had an extra set of maps for him. And for Riku, since his friend probably needed them still.

"So," he asked with a slightly nervous tone as he continued climbing, "you know where this place is, right?" If Neku didn't, then they would just figure something else out. The second floor had a lot of different rooms that could be looked into, so Sora was sure they could find a backup plan.

It was startling, first of all, and second, completely uncool to be dragged up half the stairs like a ragdoll, but Neku managed to regain his composure quickly enough when Sora let go. It did take a bit of fiddling to fix his jostled headphones though.

He nodded and checked his waistband for the folded map Sheena had given him the other day. It took a little effort to unfold it with one hand while the other held the flashlight, but he managed.

"Right there," he replied, tapping the paper a couple of times once he'd located it. Unlike Shibuya, this place had a totally easy layout. He could probably find the room in his sleep. Once he was sure Sora had time to get a good look, he folded it back up and tucked it away, careful to check behind them as they went the rest of the way up the stairs.

[[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/890326.html?thread=69277910#t69277910)]]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/884585.html?thread=69164905#t69164905)]

TK shone his glowrod up the stairs as they approached, seeing no hostiles. Good. He'd seen evidence of fights before on the stairs, and he didn't want to get into combat in such an enclosed space. That, and he didn't really want to find out how Russia would react to a non-human hostile. He seemed confident enough, but also quite certain that nothing here was out of the ordinary. He wasn't sure if that made Russia crazy or far too sane for Landel's.

He'd suspected the man escorting him around the building was a soldier of some sort. Just from his speech patterns, his body language, among other things, it seemed fairly apparent. But learning he was a stormtrooper of all things, that was interesting. He didn't even look terribly German, first of all.

Even so, he didn't have to be told to be on his guard. It was almost constant, like an instinct, to watch his back. The few times he let it slip were only around family and even then (and especially around Belarus), it was a bad idea.

"I would be happy to help you get violent," he replied with a smile and a nod, "should anything come our way. But for now, we are clear." It was really a shame they'd taken his pipe away, since that would've been perfect for this sort of thing. Not to mention his guns and other favorite weapons. Though he still usually did a good job with his fists. It was more personal that way, more than just blood flying on the air.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/890326.html?thread=69284054#t69284054)]

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/884585.html?thread=69195113#t69195113)]

HK did his best not to just run up the stairs, eager to get to their target. If Lugnut could get a better weapon for himself, then they could kill meatbags more efficiently together!

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/890326.html?view=69290966#t69290966)]

[To here.]

In any event, if there was something that could really breathe fire (it still sounded like fairy-tale stuff to him, but he wasn't going to deny its possibility anymore), then a fire extinguisher was the logical next step. Harvey had been to a few supply closets on the second floor, though he'd never had reason to look for a fire extinguisher, and so he couldn't remember if he'd seen one. Only one way to find out, unless Jones already had an idea of where to find one.

"So, what else did you want to know about Lunge?" he asked as they moved up. Giving Jones what he wanted would make him more willing to share information down the line, and Harvey was luckily in a position where he could spill without putting himself at any sort of disadvantage.

"I haven't given up on the ruins, but so far I haven't learned much from them that I can use. I thought it might be a good idea to have more than one line of study going, especially after the damage that minotaur did to the church the other night," Indy explained as they reached the stairwell and started climbing. It had wreaked the worst havoc right near the pulpit, exactly where he'd been hoping to look. He might've thought about going back to check anyway, if it hadn't been storming so badly. Now he might have to wait a few more days for the water level to go down. If it had been an actual dig site, Indy would've been more concerned about what this rain might do to it, but that town--if it was real--must've withstood a hell of a lot of inclement weather over the decades and he figured it could handle a little more.

"As for the basement, sounds like not many people have been down there. It's worth a look, at least." The presence of the "monster"--and the warnings on the bulletin board a few days ago about the danger--suggested that there might be something underneath them Landel didn't want them to find. Danger and mystery: sounded like a job for the famous Indiana Jones, Indy thought with some amusement. That could almost be a movie tagline.

As they got closer to the top, Dent asked what other questions he had about Lunge's account. There was really just the one, but it was big. "Did he say anything about who was working on him; any kind of description? Whether they said anything?" Indy wanted to know whether the daytime doctors were involved with what went on at night, or if Landel was bringing in others--or even doing the experimentation himself.

From what Harvey had seen of the ruins himself, he could see why Jones was choosing to shelve it for now. There had been a lot of interesting things to see there, true, but the problem was that without more of a context to work with, it wasn't going to mean much to them. Keeping it all in mind would be important, of course, but having to make the trek there every night probably got tedious. Especially if minotaurs were there to make things more difficult. What a crazy thought.

"Who are you checking out the basement with?" he asked, hoping that he came off as only mildly curious. The answer would help him to figure out whether or not it was something he wanted to pursue. From what Harvey had picked up, the basement wasn't a place anyone went to alone, and he would like to think that Jones was smart enough to know better. He got the feeling that the man was like him in that he liked to strike out by himself, but there was a difference between being independent and downright stupid. Hopefully Jones knew the difference.

He figured Jones would get to the point where he wanted more details about what Lunge went through, but Harvey didn't have them, plain and simple. He sighed, working on getting up to the top of the stairs before answering.

[To here.]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/882232.html?thread=69344568#t69344568)]

Hitting the stairs, Wally took them two at a time in long, easy strides. Running up them (or just straight up the wall, if his powers had been up to it) would have been better, but with the few other people around and having just his flashlight, he didn't want to risk doing something stupid like twisting an ankle.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/890326.html?thread=69345238#t69345238)]

Edited 2010-05-19 13:20 (UTC)

Spock had a point. It looked like he only had some idea of where the experiments weren't taking place, and that was the first floor. It still sounded like they had plenty to cover, but at least it signaled out what they didn't need to check on. Made sense. And at least Spock was giving the go ahead to keep an eye out for his roommate.

What did he mean turned loose? It sounded almost mean released like Jim? He wouldn't say Jim had been 'turned loose' on the patients, that made it sound like they'd impelled maddened animal on someone. Jim had been wandering around like a lost patrol that night, more confused and belligerent than anything else, stubborn as an ass and unwilling to listen to them about who he was and who they were, but he hadn't been outright hostile towards them.

The Vulcan only confirmed that sinking feeling seconds later. McCoy shot him a sharp look. "You mean these people set patients on each other like rabid dogs?"

Edited 2010-05-20 01:47 (UTC)

"A crude metaphor," Spock quietly responded, "although perhaps not entirely inaccurate." It was another example of how danger potentially lurked in every corner, every shadow of the institute. Even their fellow patients could be turned against them under the right circumstances. McCoy had not witnessed the extent of Landel's power over them to the same degree Spock had. The odds were that he certainly would if they did not find a way to escape soon.

"I have yet to observe such patients for myself," he added, believing it better to clarify his own position on the issue. "However, others have made comments over the bulletin board alluding to such a practice. Given the nature of this facility, it does not seem out of the realm of possibility."

For now, there did not appear to be any signs of immediate danger, which made their path up the stairs easier. But he recalled what Alkaid had told him regarding the strength of the creatures that wandered the 2nd floor, and so Spock knew they could not allow themselves to believe the rest of their investigations would remain this quiet.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/890326.html?thread=69417686#t69417686).))

[From here; skipped straight across Main Hallway 1-West.]

L shined his light up the stairwell. He wasn't completely satisfied that it was empty, but what he could see suggested it, so he began to mount the stairs two at a time. The confined space made him uncomfortable; little room to move meant that they could easily become trapped, and it wasn't stable ground for fighting. Their encounter with the minotaur a few nights earlier was still fresh in his mind. How much worse would it have been if dodging the creature's rage had meant falling down a flight of stairs?

"To begin with, I should fill you in on what you missed last night; however, I would like to avoid any specific details until we are alone. There isn't any point in having had a private meeting if we're going to discuss what was said where just about anyone could overhear it."

He felt a faint urge to keep Lunge's mind on conversation. Reaching the laboratory required them to pass the wing where the "sleep studies" were performed, and L didn't want his companion to balk. He wasn't expecting it: under ordinary conditions, Lunge possessed an impressive degree of psychological strength. Where trauma was a factor, though, it was better to anticipate the possibility of erratic behavior.

Edited 2010-05-20 06:59 (UTC)

Again, talking shop came as an odd sort of comfort. With L walking by his side, Lunge let himself fall into the regular rhythm of their conversations. "No. It usually means he's got a trump card he thinks we have no way of suspecting."

He dropped his voice a little as they approached the stairwell. "He likes the control. He's got the carrot as well as the stick, and he doesn't want us to forget that." Control. It always boiled down to control, didn't it? Self-control, control of others, control of emotions... but what was Landel's motivation, here?

But pondering over that could take all night, and L had other information to offer him. "That's fine, he agreed, nodding briefly as they began their ascent. Javert, Jones and a couple of L's acquaintances had been there, hadn't they?

[From here]

When he reached the stairwell, Scar hesitated. The second floor...obviously wasn't safe, not on his own, not when he wasn't in the best of conditions. But returning to his room wasn't quite an option, and neither was heading back to the main hall and wait for some life bait to show up.

He didn't pick up the same sensation as a few nights ago, at the very least. He could run, if the situation called for it.

[To here]

[ from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/882475.html?thread=69536299#t69536299) ]

When they reached the stairs, and were away from the open hallway, Naminé decided that now was probably a good time to ask Riku about the maps. He could also tell her if Kairi needed one; though she wasn't sure if her maps would still be good. A lot could change in a week in this place, so she wouldn't be surprised if there was outdated information on it. Still, it would be better than nothing, and Sora didn't tell her anything outlandish like the layout changing...

"Did Sora give you or Kairi a map? If not, I can give you both one," She offered, looking behind her to try and see Riku's reaction to her question. Though, when she thought about it, not looking in front of her was probably very dangerous, so she sheepishly looked back.

"I wasn't sure if he did... I'm sorry, I should have asked sooner."

"We don't have any maps," he responded. It was something that they should have handled a while ago. "I've just been paying attention during the daytime, and what little we do at night. But ..." Riku glanced away, his lips twitching downward. His facial expression wasn't all that unfamiliar: it was one of the ones he wore when Sora was in trouble, when they were seeking answers for a way to fix the problem with his memories, but they hadn't found it yet. "Well. We haven't gotten much done. Like I said."

"So, a map would be good. Figures Sora wouldn't have managed one yet." It was a jab at his friend that was obviously light-hearted, and he even looked over at her with a smile before he pressed on and up the stairs. He knew where to go now, but it was obvious that he took his pace easy for her sake.

[to here]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/882475.html?thread=69560619#t69560619)]

The stairway was almost empty, and the "almost" was a bit of a relief. If someone else was in there and acting normal and not running from monsters or something, it generally indicated the coast was clear. Still, though, Hanatarou didn't dare slow down, and proceeded up the stairs as quickly as he could manage without tripping himself.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/890326.html?thread=69605590#t69605590)]

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/882475.html?thread=69561387#t69561387)]

The stairs were almost deserted. As they made their way up, Meche focused on not stepping on the edge of Alita's skirt--the dry cleaning bill would probably cost more than she'd made in any given entire year of her life.

"Well, if you consider a manicure a productive use of your time, I got a lot done," she replied, glancing down at her freshly-done nails. The women at the salon had done a good job, she had to hand it to them. "Other than that...I talked to the man who was in the hallway the other night. The monster's friend." Meche wasn't sure whether the girls wanted to hear what Peter had had to say--especially not while they were still walking around with injuries from that fight--but it wouldn't be right not to at least mention it.

"The sheriff didn't say anything to me, to be honest. I think he was trying to ignore me." Which was understandable, she supposed--she was supposed to be insane, after all--but it had been frustrating nonetheless.

At the mention of the man in the hallway she paused for a moment, one foot lingering on the step just long enough for it to be noticeable, before she kept climbing. She stayed silent until she reached the top of the stairs.

[to here]

[from here]

Lana took the stairs two at a time; she wasn't running, just moving quickly. Halfway up she threw a brief glance over her shoulder, as if to check that Gant was following. She knew he was; this was challenge, not security. The ball was in his court, and she was perfectly ready to march all the way to the "therapy" rooms without another word.

Oh, right. Going upstairs usually entailed climbing stairs. Definitely not good for his knees, but he was able to keep up with his old partner. Although he had worked hard intending to live the rest of his life in the luxurious position of Chief, he had never once fallen short on keeping in shape. Never knew when he'd need to put his body to use again, and getting old wasn't an excuse to let your guard down even for a minute.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/882475.html?thread=69798955#t69798955)]

Cissnei moved into the stairwell, pressing back against the wall and taking a look around carefully. She couldn't see anything immediately amiss so she ascended a few stairs to take a closer look before turning back. "It looks clear from here. We should have a clear run to the hall upstairs if we move quickly." She moved right up to the top of the stairs, shuriken at the ready in case anything jumped out to attack.

Taura bounded up the stairs four at a time, and joined Cissnei on the upper landing. She'd been attacked twice in the main hall; a third time would reflect more than poorly on her competence. And it would put a damper on their night.

"I'll take a closer look. Keep my back, yeah?" Taura repeated Cissnei's cautious advance to the door for a look; when nothing attacked, she slid along the wall and through the door without another sound.

[continued here]

Night 49: Stairwell by Waiting Room/Lobby 1

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