damned_institute | Nightshift 49: West Wing, South Hall 2-B

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Nightshift 49: West Wing, South Hall 2-B

[from here]

The hallway was empty, but Depth Charge was used to that by now. This place seemed to have a thing for drama, and what could be more dramatic than footsteps echoing in a long, bare, dark hallway?

Checking briefly over his shoulder to make sure Hime was still following him (like Pit he was going to lose sight of her around here, not with his track record), he bypassed the first door and stopped in front of the door to the sleep trial hallway. "Not broken down yet," he commented, giving the door a little experimental push with his shoulder. As expected it didn't budge, but it gave the same old satisfactory creak that indicated it could be easily broken down. "Congratulations. We're the first here tonight." The first ones not strapped down, at least.

Obviously, expecting the princess herself to do any manual labour was out of the question. Dropping his flashlight expectantly in the general direction of Hime's hands so that he at least had one hand free, he stood back, gripped the crowbar in both hands and swung it at the lock so that it made that satisfying little chipping sound he was so used to hearing around here. A few solid hits and the lock would free up, good as gold.

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Had Hime known of Depth Charges previous responsibilities, she might have made some quip about how convenient this was for him. As it was, she simply led the way. It didn't seem many patients were here yet, though it sounded as if more were coming from behind. The locked door confirmed this.

"We get whatever lies in ambush all to ourselves," she said dryly. While she did want to see something more than just the same old halls, the idea of playing monster-bait wasn't exactly appealing to her. No pleasing her, really.

She waited while Depth Charge broke down the lock - it only stood to reason he took care of it. He was the bigger and stronger of the pair and, more importantly, had a crowbar. Hime's wooden bat was likely to take as much damage as the door if she did it.

Once lock snapped inside the door, Hime strode forwards, opening the door as if it had been unlocked for her all this time and stepping forth into the darkness.

[Getting Portal Roll]

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/893477.html)]

"Here," he said coming to the door on the side of the hallway. He nodded Tsubaki towards it before looking to Fai. "You want not obvious, then fine. We'll look for a way up over here."

In the two times that Kurogane had been over this way, he had never been able to actually explore. Just fumble around from drugs or lack of light. If they were already there, and well prepared, then it was better to at least give the place a look through. And see whether there really were any of those trials happening.

Looking through the rooms where people were experimented on was hardly what he'd had in mind, but if it kept Kurogane busy and was enough to please Tsubaki, then he wasn't about to argue. While he had no problem with the girl's excuse, valid or no, Kurogane obviously wasn't buying. Just because it'd gone unannounced didn't mean it couldn't be happening. She could have a roommate that vanished or some other circumstance to lead her to that conclusion.

He gave a shrug to Kurogane, leaving it to him. As far as Yuuhi remembered, he hadn't come up this hallway before, so whatever they came upon was more or less new to him. It was going to be difficult to see though, since fewer and fewer people with lights were in the deeper halls.

Filing out onto the second floor landing, Tsubaki looked around the nearly deserted intersection, silent but for the sounds they were making and the rain beating on the glass ceiling. There were no changes that she could make out. Somehow that made the Head Doctor’s promise worse--he seemed to like unpleasant surprises too much.

She took a step away from the stairs, but had to stop at Kurogane’s unexpected disagreement. What? The accusation was clear and continued to ring in her ears after it was said. Taken aback, she didn’t know what to say. Why was she being called a liar again? It was the truth. That he was once again implying she was a cheat bothered her the most; it struck a spot she tried hard to make amends with yet had been rubbed a little rawer due to everything that had happened in Landel’s. Her bewilderment needled at her self-imposed calm, threatening to distract her, and Tsubaki realized how off balance she’d been thrown by the remark.

"They were, during dinner," she protested faintly. She found she was moving on auto-pilot. "He said they’re replacing Special Counselling tonight." She wanted to say more, but… she didn’t have the words for what she wanted to voice and inwardly had to shake herself. What mattered was that Tsubaki was 100% certain the experiments had been announced. The rest would only get in the way and cause trouble.

Unable to come up with anything else to say, she instead worked to squelch the feelings Kurogane had raised and resume a silent watch on the hallway. When they got to the door, she peered at it, making out the shade of black that was the broken door and the darker black of the hall beyond. Someone had obviously broken in already, but she couldn’t see or hear anything inside. Crouching, she placed her makeshift bag beside the door where it’d be out of the way.

"It could be dangerous inside," she murmured, pretending nothing had happened.

Kurogane hadn't been focusing on the Head Doctor's announcements during dinner. He rarely paid the man mind until night fell. That being true, he didn't admit to the fact, or that he had been wrong in saying the trials had been announced. Instead, he snorted, and turned his attention towards the last of the girl's words. Was she serious?

"It's dangerous everywhere. If you're going to pull that crap now, then go back to your room. Come on," he said, possibly to both her and Fai, as he turned for the door himself and pushed it open. He wasn't hesitating and never would.

[From here.]

Zero swept past the first door on the left and stopped just before the second, waiting for N-1 and N-2 to join him. From the looks of it, someone had already broken the lock, and while that meant less effort for his group, it made his stomach twist guiltily. He should have been here first. He shouldn't have spent so much time talking to the thugs he'd brought along with him, should have ran instead of walked-- anything! But he was here now, and Nunnally--

"N-1," he called over his shoulder, taking what little comfort he could in the familiar echo of his altered voice. "If you would be so kind..." Hurry up and go in first so that I can know it's safe. It was his own damn fault for pulling ahead like that, sure, but that didn't mean he had to acknowledge it.

[and taking the lead to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/895911.html)!]

The panic subsided a little as that door passed him by at what seemed like a blur. There. It was an irrational fear, anyway, of course it was: being near the room was inevitable in this part of the second floor and, at any rate, he was the one in the driving seat tonight. Yes. That moment had almost verged on embarrassing- there was no basis in such illogical feeling. All it did was delay them further.

"What did you decide between you?" Lunge asked, before that same old conversational rhythm could miss a beat. Hopefully, all L would notice was that his pace had momentarily picked up. There were other patients in both corridors, and he adjusted his volume accordingly.

"Yes, control," L murmured, as they reached the top of the stairs.

Before he had the chance to continue speaking, the atmosphere became more charged than usual. It was Lunge, who seemed -- L gave him a speculative sidelong glance, appraising his current state -- who seemed to want to be anywhere else, other than where he was. L prepared for him to bolt back down the stairs, even as he doubted that it would happen.

Instead, Lunge picked up the pace and passed through the hall at the top of the stairs, then around the corner, in a grim headlong rush.

L didn't know what to call the area; Edgeworth's map had left it nameless, but it didn't seem to need a name. It was a place where no one wanted to be unless they had to, or unless they were driven by altruism to help someone. Lunge's reaction was the best L could have expected apart from indifference, which was unlikely. Would I be able to muster it...?, he wondered. ... No. Signs of post-traumatic stress are involuntary.

As they left the two locked doors behind them, L listened for noises beyond the wall -- Nothing. Yet he knew that at least a few unfortunate souls were being tormented just a few yards away, and the knowledge kept him moving, propelling him towards the next door, the one at the end of the corridor.

The beam of his torch, as they approached, showed that someone had already pried open the lock. That meant that they might have company in the next corridor. If it was unavoidable, he hoped that it would be the benign sort.

"I wouldn't say that a decision was reached, but we discussed loose collaboration, among other things." He had already told Lunge that he wanted to wait until he was certain they were alone before he revealed any specific details. But then the realization struck: He is covering his distress. L, resigned, let out a soft sigh. "I think Dr. Jones was the only one to raise any specific objections."

They had reached the door. He put his back to the wall, and his flashlight up, and made sure that his knife was accessible. Then, he pushed the door open with his foot, and stepped through.

[To Sphinx's Chamber.]

Edited 2010-05-21 14:25 (UTC)

McCoy grumbled but didn't argue the matter. Spock knew what he meant. Whether it was crude to his Vulcan ears or not, McCoy thought it sounded highly appropriate. Did the man really want to start discussing the proper descriptive terms out here in the hallway and while they were on a mission?

The doctor had seen him settle on less to argue about. It didn't help that over half the time McCoy was prodding and provoking him every chance he got.

"I think it's fitting," McCoy said. He continued. "I haven't noticed a specific criteria they're going by when they select for experiments, have you?" he asked. Jim had clearly been singled out, his 'story' tailored for him. He didn't think they were going to just up and announce their criteria, but maybe Spock had noticed something he'd overlooked. Maybe it would help them figure out what was going on with them. Of course, it'd help to know exactly what these people were looking for or what they were trying to accomplish in the first place. They could conjecture all they want, but it was still just conjecture.

With any luck, maybe they could find this roommate of his before it was too late. Or maybe those experiments wouldn't involve that. The two alternatives he'd seen hadn't looked much better though.

Spock was turning towards the hallway that branched off. He understood that well enough. Spock didn't have to say anything, the doctor was already moving to follow that flashlight beam pointing down that hall. A row of doors on either side of the hallway stretched downwards, ending in another door at the end.

McCoy tried the first door, the one marked "Nurse's Station". It didn't give.

Edited 2010-05-20 18:54 (UTC)

No, Spock hadn't accumulated enough data to ascertain how specific their criteria was. Gabriel claimed he had been experimented on once before. Was there was some sort of screening process that predicted who the most successful test subjects would be? The possibility couldn't be discarded, but he would need to check to see how prevalent it was for the staff to pull the same patients for multiple experiments, and, if so, what the precise nature of these experiments was.

"There may be criteria we are currently unaware of," Spock said. "We would do well to consider this when asking other patients about their experiences in the institute."

In the meantime, they would need to carefully look through the rooms in the immediate area while using their time efficiently. Spock glanced at the first door, recognizing it as one of the nurse's stations, not unlike the one located downstairs. "The nurse's station on the first floor was completely locked," he informed McCoy. "In all likelihood, we will not be able to enter this one, either."

Although it would have been ideal to have been able to successfully open it, Spock knew better than to dwell on a lost cause. That was why he focused his attention on the next door. After momentarily setting his bat down against the wall, he placed his hand on the knob and turned it. It, too, was locked, though not as tightly as the way in which the nurse's station was. After pushing his weight against it for a moment, Spock realized the lock was probably about as strong as the one leading into the pharmacy.

"We may be able to force this one open if we use our combined strength," he said.

What, ask the patients why they thought they got selected for any experimentation done on them, cool as you please, and all the gory details while they were at it? Did Spock expect it to go down that easily? McCoy didn't. Information gathering among general humanoids was easy in theory, more complex in practice. There was a little something called emotions that Spock tended to forget about, and then any traumatic memories and reactions regarding their ordeals. Some might handle it better and be able to talk about it with more ease, others couldn't.

The doctor wasn't nearly as surprised to hear that specific request come again. The door had seemed to have more give to it than the nurse's station, although there didn't seem like there was that much rhyme or reason to what they locked down in the first place. Why not just keep the patient blocks locked down in the first place?

All the same, when he signed aboard the Enterprise, he hadn't thought that he'd be doing all that much of this sort of thing all the same. It was starting to feel like he was going to spend more time trying to force doors open, rely on (combined) brute strength than actually practicing medicine.

"I'm a doctor, Mr. Spock. Not a battering ram," he said. McCoy positioned himself at the door anyway, shoulder braced towards it. He met Spock's eyes, wordlessly giving the signal that he was ready, then hurled himself at it.

Edited 2010-05-21 11:09 (UTC)

Upon hearing the comment, Spock glanced toward McCoy and raised an eyebrow. Ultimately, however, he didn't say anything further. Instead, he reached down for his bat and positioned himself along with the doctor, carefully aiming his shoulder at the door's surface. While it likely would have been easier to do so without a weapon in hand, the fact remained that they were uncertain as to what, exactly, they would find. Spock did not want McCoy and himself to be caught without any means to properly defend themselves.

Once McCoy indicated he was ready to force the door open, the two officers threw their weight forward. The surface rattled, but the door didn't open. After one more try, however, it abruptly flew inward, allowing them to stumble in.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/900785.html).))

Edited 2010-05-21 23:00 (UTC)

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/890326.html?thread=69499094#t69499094)]

Recluse moved ahead of Agatha as they entered the hall, partly to lead the way and mostly to obscure more of the glow from that damned flashlight. Humans were so utterly useless in the dark.

"It's through that door," Recluse pointed towards it. For all the good it would do Agatha, now he was likely going to have to deal with either waiting for some girl to get tossed out of one of the rooms, or wait for Agatha to do something kind to said girl. He really didn't have the patience for either, but he could pretend, however much it grated on his already frayed nerves.

The door hung open, apparently broken- someone had been this way already. That was good. But Agatha didn't see much in the way of activity through it, which was... less good. She'd learned caution, had it pounded into her by people who meant her no good and by people who did, and this was clearly the right time for it.

She approached the doorway, and flicked the beam of her light through it a couple of times in case something was going to respond to the apparent movement. Nothing did. So she braced herself, and stepped through.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/902177.html)]

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

And here they were! Hanatarou paused, looking a little uncertainly at the door that was already hanging open. It seemed that someone had already gone through this way, which was a good sign that they were in the right place. So... hopefully they actually were.

He glanced up at his companions and gestured toward the doorway. "This should be it," he said, keeping his voice hushed in case anything was lurking in the darkness nearby. "Looks like someone already opened the door for us?"

Tsukasa had hurried along with the two of them, following them through the hallways and keeping a watchful eye out for lurking monsters. He didn't see anything, but he couldn't believe that they weren't out there. He hadn't been this far into the upstairs area before. it was a little intimidating. "Yeah," he said quietly, and glanced between them. "I guess I'll go first." he pushed the door open a little further, peering inside before stepping through.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/892850.html?thread=69697202#t69697202)]

[from here]

The next hall was empty, but the door was open. At the very least, Agatha and her partner should have made it up. Likely some or all of L'Inspecteur's makeshift department had also taken the intercom broadcast as a call to duty. There were no signs of a struggle beyond the broken door; so far, everything was proceeding smoothly.

Lana inclined her head at the dark entrance -- funny that there was no light at all beyond the crisp circle of her flashlight, but perhaps the bend in the hall was catching it all.

She was quiet as mouse tonight. Almost felt like she was playing with him. Twenty Questions wasn't his favorite game by a long shot, but if she insisted on being vague he supposed she couldn't be blamed. She was worried about her sister after all. Lana always got distracted whenever Ema was involved.

When she mentioned an attack, the Chief really had to wonder if some of the other patients actually were crazy, unlike the newcomers he had met. It was possible their records had only been mixed up for the one day. But if that meant that the normal patients were crazy, and if Lana had come in sometime last night...

Uh oh. Her question about being armed helped pull his thoughts in order. Something had happened, maybe after the trial, that had really sent Lana over the edge. It would explain why she continued to carry on as if she didn't know he had framed her sister. And if that was the case, little sister might not be here at all. Gant may very well be following his crazed partner on a wild goose chase. He suddenly wished he was armed with something more than a flashlight.

"...As you can imagine, they took my pistol sometime between leaving the courthouse and arriving here. Afraid I haven't had the time to visit the armory to stock up yet." He tried to sound nonchalant, but he kept his gaze fixed on her as he reached for the door.

For now he would go along as if nothing was amiss. He could ditch her somewhere in the dark if things got out of hand.

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Nightshift 49: West Wing, South Hall 2-B

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