damned_institute | Night 50: Main Hallway, 1-West

Stairs, stairs. There were two of them, if she remembered correctly. Though she hadn't been paying the most attention when Yakitori had lead her up, and the other one she'd discovered more or less accidentally.

Well, directly in front of her stood a blank wall, so the stairs had to be in either direction. Maybe there were even stairs in both directions. At a loss for definite data, Mele just picked a random direction. She could always come back here if she turned out to be wrong.

[From F-A Block Hallway. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/936512.html?thread=71219776#t71378496)]

"...not that there's any sense in any of this," Evangeline finished derisively as she emerged into the main hall. At least Junpei had managed to be mere recipient instead of target for her little lecture this time.

"Hey, hey! I get -- C's." Okay so that wasn't as impressive as it sounded in his head. He was used to his friends being under the impression that he failed most of his classes or just barely passed. In that case, a C was an impressive grade for him. Mostly he had such bad grades because he didn't study or do homework, not because he was stupid.

Junpei listened to Evangeline's explanation, really glad she was using Japanese cause that he probably wouldn't have been able to follow. "So... it's just magic? Huh. Simple explanation." He could have guessed that much himself. "Maybe whatever magic they use is just making us use our own minds to synch up the lips since we kinda naturally know and reject those really bad dubs."

"Not all magic is the same, Junpei." Evangeline supposed she shouldn't have expected any more from him... she really wished the boy was here, sometimes. Though his grasp of theory was excellent; she would not have needed to give him this kind of broad overview in the first place.

Another shrug. "It's possible. Cognizance disruption doesn't work well on someone who's focusing, though. They'll be actively manipulating perception, if it's not outright reality distortion."

"Of course it's not. Otherwise there'd be more than a handful of people that had Personas forced onto them instead of naturally developed," the teen replied, not realizing he'd never mentioned that tidbit about forced Personas to Evangeline.

"But, as a broad catch-all explanation, it is pretty simple. People used to call all sorts of things magic before they understood the whole science behind it. Hell, this all could be the work of some kind of really damn advanced technology that we can't remotely understand... which still makes it magic."

"If you use the word like that it's not an explanation, it's just a name you made up for so you'll feel like it has some sort of place in your world and you can stop thinking about it." Evangeline resumed lecturing. "And magic is something I understand. The greatest dark mage, remember?"

But no, she hadn't missed the new information he'd let slip. "Is that how you ended up with yours, hm?"

She leered at him, hoping the topic would set him off-balance.

"Yes, yes, greatest dark mage. I remember. Terrifies me to my very core," Junpei replied flippantly. It wasn't the dark mage that terrified him so much but the vampire part did.

His eyes flickered over with her question. "No. I'm all natural. I just... know someone who had it... yeah." He was a bit uncomfortable, but not like Evangeline was expecting. He seemed... sad almost.

The flippancy was annoying, but she'd already threatened to kill him once tonight. It was probably enough.

Besides, he was showing a more interesting vulnerability than simple fear. "That girl, right? What was her name?"

Whether Eva had genuinely forgotten or was trying to make him drag up memories by association for some purpose or another was anyone's guess.

"Chidori."

Junpei said her name softly, fondly, sadly as he did every time he spoke of his dead girlfriend. He'd managed to not deal with her loss and the loss of everyone else when Landel had sent them away. The others he knew were probably back home - hopefully back home - but Chidori... She was dead.

He rubbed his chest idly, almost wishing there was a scar even if he could still feel her inside him. He then decided to change the subject.

"Why do you think that douchebag decided to make the translator thing not work? Other than to irritate us?"

Evangeline could actually bring herself to like that Junpei; the wistful, worldly one that knew loss and fought alone and without the prospect of reward. Unfortunately it was trapped under an extremely annoying teenager and could only, it seemed, emerge for a few seconds at a time.

She sighed.

"How would i know? I'm evil, not insane. He's showing his hand much too early. If I was him I'd save changing the established rules of the game for a time when we're a real threat to him. As it is people will know to plan for this in the future."

Maybe. Some of the patients here were pretty stupid.

"I don't think it's us he sees as a threat." Junpei took his hat off, rubbed the top of his head and put it back on. "That radio dude. Or something. Maybe."

He then shrugged. "And I, uh, just thought maybe there was some kind of diabolical reasoning that only the really evil understood." As Junpei, clearly, wasn't evil and would not understand.

"If the radio was a problem he could just jam it. Unless you think he's sitting up there with a giant board of unlabeled switches and knows as much as any of us about what he's doing. That's what my evil genius intuition is telling me, Junpei. Whatever powers he has he doesn't have close to full control of them, he's just making everything up as he goes. I'm surprised he hasn't been eaten by his own monsters yet."

Speaking of which... she looked back at the sword she'd almost nicked him with earlier. "Do you know how to use that thing?"

"Maybe he can't jam it cause that's the simple solution." Junpei shrugged. "I'm just glad you speak Japanese."

He then gave Evangeline a bit of a glare. "Duh. Of course, I can."

[to here] (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/940332.html?thread=71527212#t71527212)

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/938786.html?view=71426082#t71426082)]

Here, again, Uryuu felt compelled to pull out his own flashlight and make use of it. The size of the hallway prompted it: it was much longer and much wider, with corridors branching to the left and doors on both sides. There were more of the others here as well. From what he could discern through dim light (beaming it directly at their faces would undoubtedly not be appreciated) and distance, a wide range of ages were represented. No one seemed raving mad. Closest but still moving was a teenager and a girl who looked younger even than that; the murmured conversations that came back from those within the hall were strange.

Uryuu realized that a number of languages were being spoken. He recognized Japanese, of course, and English, but others eluded him. Using the flashlight to push up his glasses, Uryuu concentrated; he had not heard every language in the world, of course, but for some to sound so alien... after a minute, he put the question aside.

One more mystery. The priority ought to be pinpointing someone speaking Japanese, and approach. He quickened his pace.

"I think all anyone really caught was the screech..." Paying loose attention to where Ishida was and following his trail into the even-bigger hall, he thought on the second announcement more briefly than the first. Was that even Japanese at the end there? He brought his flashlight up again, noticing more people and more talk going on in this corridor than the last.

Whether they'd actually get the opportunity to talk or not, Masaomi started paying more attention to fellow kidnapees milling around than he did the place itself, figuring there'd be more things to learn from them than the empty spaces they were occupying. The sparse crowd was diverse, people of all ages speaking what seemed like different languages too. He picked up more English than anything else recognizable as he passed by, and what were probably several other languages. Coherent, even if he didn't get it.

It made sense, he told himself more calmly than some part of him thought he ought to. If timewarps or kidnappings-you-didn't-notice-happening could (in fact, just did) happen, why couldn't he have been transported outside of Japan as well? He inanely reconsidered the possibility that aliens really were in Ikebukuro, that they were the ones that had abducted him. He'd never given the rumors credit before but now, he hastily shelved the thought and hoped it'd stay there long enough to gather dust till it was forgotten completely... how would he fight that, anyway, if it was true?

And if this place wasn't in Ikebukuro, Tokyo, Japan or Earth, even — did anyone here know where?

Think, think. Like a shounen manga hero. ...Or not. Masaomi was grateful he'd read up on astronomy some random afternoon, during his stint as a simple high school student. (Granted, though he'd only wanted to learn more about it in relation to astrology so as to better impress girls with precisely how star-crossed they were, it could come in handy here too.) Springtime in Japan last he checked, so... Leo and Hydra and the Big Dipper should be out there in the sky too. "Hey, Ishida-san, you didn't happen to notice if there were stars outside, did you? When you found the field?"

He regretted not walking out and seeing for himself when they were still back there. But instead of hearing a response, Masaomi turned and found Ishida starting away already. Was he tuning him out?! "Oi, Ishida-san..." Or, more likely, was someone else speaking their language?

[And here he comes, from here! (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/936745.html?thread=71476009#t71476009)]

Gai had fully intended to keep his sharp mind focused on the task he had set for himself, but he soon realized that even he could not manage to tune out the phenomenon taking place in the shadows around him. He knew that one would pass other patients in the hallways, and was in fact prepared for the occurrence, as such happenstance had been the only way he had encountered his fellow Konoha ninja during his first night here. He had even allotted himself time to pause, should someone witness his passage through the hallways and feel the need to ask his undoubtedly impressive self for momentary protection or assistance.

While that had yet to occur, he had made note to pay close attention to the individuals he passed, at least in the fleeting moment he moved by them – a good shinobi makes sure to be aware of all parts of his environment, especially those people in it, as harmless as they may seem. It was in these instinctual observations that the strange occurrence became apparent to him, and his striking brows knit as he listened more closely, though he was still running seamlessly through the hallway as he pondered.

He had always been able to clearly understand the words being spoken by his fellow patients, both during the day, and during his first night shift in this place – but now, while every so often he would catch a clear utterance or recognizable phrase, much of what was being said around him had turned to what seemed like gibberish. It was not due to a change in his own impeccable hearing, he quickly verified – all the quiet voices were crystal clear to his well-trained ears, as were all the noises, large and small, that echoed against the walls of the corridor.

Maito Gai’s dark eyes shone dramatically with sudden realization – this no doubt had something to do with the unsettling intercom communication which had come just moments before, and was likely yet another attempt by his unidentified foes to hinder him, the pride of Konoha, in his progress towards an escape for him and his comrades – did they hope that by disturbing his ability to communicate with those around him, they would have successfully disrupted his ability to navigate this place? To call for help should he (somehow) need it, once he reached the less populated parts of this facility?

Once again they had underestimated his abilities, and likely were unaware of the maps he possessed, which would ideally render the need to ask for directions obsolete. Still, it would be unwise of him to continue on his journey without first addressing this concern and how, if at all, it could be circumvented – and there was no better approach than directness.

The movement of his powerful form through the hallways came to a sudden, perfect halt, and he stood still, listening carefully for the first voice that spoke words he could identify. He spun on his heel, the movement a dynamic flash through the darkness, and leveled a finger dramatically at the speaker, or rather, the speaker’s companion who had been moving ahead of him – there were two of them, he realized…and they were both young men about the age of his treasured students.

“Excuse me!” He announced in his strong, masculine voice, after framing his handsome face with his other hand and offering the two his most reassuring smile, complete with a star-like gleam. “Do you understand what I am saying?”

"There were stars," he answered, barely turning his head to do so. The question was a good one and Uryuu understood the meaning of it, having glanced at the sky. What he had noticed, if at the time only with a sense of discomfort, one that sharpened as his mind reviewed the image, made turning and facing Kida-san less desirable. Having to say it, and allow it the reality of the spoken word, was enough.

"The constellations weren't recognizable. Not only for a Tokyo sky... if you've ever seen the stars from the city." Uryuu had not yet taken Astronomy, but he'd looked into it himself, recognizing the value of situating oneself by the stars. He knew what one should expect in England, in Brazil, in Texas, or roughly so. He knew the patterns the stars made over the Earth. Wasting time with, or allowing himself to become stumped and obsessed by the question of possibility wasn't an option - and even he could recognize the irony of thinking this is impossible when the world he'd come from before this one wasn't a human one.

Uryuu had slowed to answer, but before he could quicken or even call to the other pair, his eyes (still directed more toward Kida-san) picked up the moving darkness, his flashlight turning with his upper body, catching first the jutting finger, then a chiseled jaw and very white, very straight teeth. It took him a moment to understand. The man spoke what sounded like Japanese, yet it was oddly reminiscent of something archaic, as if he quoted a text from the Heian period. Even that analogy failed; it wasn't old Japanese. But, that syntax.

Without shining the light directly in the man's face, Uryuu noted his unflattering haircut and the confidence in his posture. He held himself as if posing, as if a superhero on a children's program; somewhat like Don Kanonji. The drama of his entrance was ruined, made less cool, by the persisting ugliness of the uniform. The man looked to be in his thirties. Without looking back at the shrinking pair, Uryuu redirected his and Kida-san's goal, targeting this guy. He did not return the smile. It was irritating to have rely on a complete stranger, to admit his ignorance of the situation.

"Yes," he said, "for the most part. Who are you? Where are we? Unless you, too, woke up here for the first time tonight."

The last said with obvious doubt. Appearances could be deceiving; it could be that the man's attitude came not from experience with the place, and more from idiocy. For the moment, Uryuu assumed otherwise.

Not only... He frowned, processing the information reluctantly. Aliens were starting to seem more and more likely... and even if it wasn't really the case, he'd have to act from here on out like it was, unrealistic though it may be. Because they weren't in Tokyo, Japan, or even Earth. It was probably strange that Ishida-san was from there, then. Coincidences, jokes, caprices. Ikebukuro couldn't be the only place that suffered those.

He didn't bother sharing that he'd grown up in Saitama, that he'd spent summer nights hunting beetles, finding creeks and doing other things his future self would like to look back on. The stars were pretty visible, back in the idyllic days of his childhood.

Before he could come up with an appropriate response, he caught someone speaking loudly in what sounded like Japanese, right in their direction. Slowing down and turning to look for the source about the same time Ishida did, Masaomi found himself looking at someone who must've, like him, been confused about what kind of show they were here for. This was beyond a two thumbs down version of a Hanejima Yuuhei movie, hadn't this guy figured by now? Or he had, and gotten used to it or something....

He looked much older at least, and if it wasn't for the pose he was making (though he might've passed for impressive in the right clothing), Masaomi would be less inclined to think he was being, for the most part, honest. The man must've been speaking some dialect too — it wasn't any sort of Japanese he outright recognized. Similar words, jumbled in a different order. Masaomi had solved puzzles like this sometimes, little online games that'd test how well your brain could piece things together. And his brain usually did a good job of those, if he did say so himself.

The man's haircut was atrocious, but Kida Masaomi wouldn't judge! Much. After all, teeth that sparkled like that deserved some props. Tacking onto Ishida's blunter questions, he met the man's intrusion with a faint, amused grin. It never did any good to show that he was as discomfited as he felt, especially around adults. "A cosplayer? Is this a convention? We don't have cameras, so there's no press to put on a show for. You can be honest with the likes of us~! As inundated with cynicism as all young men are, we surely have much to learn about —" (he gestured vaguely) "— all of this."

Edited 2010-08-03 22:39 (UTC)

Gai raised a striking brow as the young men spoke, holding his pose effortlessly until the two had finished. He pondered the strangeness of the language they spoke – it was similar enough to his own that he could understand the general meaning behind their words, but he was sure the subtle nuances of their speech was lost due to the change. No doubt the same had happened to him, as he could gather the phenomenon was affecting comprehension on both sides.

He understood little of what the second boy said – whatever he meant by “convention”, and “cosplay”, the jounin hadn’t the slightest idea…though it was true, this place was most unconventional in many aspects. He did pick out certain words, however, having to do with honesty and youthfulness, and he offered a nod of manly approval at these, at least.

“Who am I?” He repeated once they were finished speaking – it was a question he was not quite used to, though it made sense that his shining reputation would not precede him here, in a place like this, and to people who had seemingly only just arrived. A dramatic flash moved through his dark eyes, and soon he had spun into a new pose, though his hand still framed his handsome face, and his gleaming smile quickly returned.

“I am Maito Gai, the proud, green beast of Konoha!” he announced with his characteristic flourish, the bold sound echoing through the dark hallway. He was unsure whether the majority of his introduction would make sense to the two, considering the complications, but no matter – a ninja such as himself was impressive in any language. After a small pause, he spoke again, adding what he could in clarification after considering the rest of the bespectacled youth’s question. “I am a shinobi, and this is the second night I have found myself in this place. I do not know a great deal, yet, but I will gladly pass onto you the explanations given to me upon my own arrival.”

“But first!” He pointed again, somehow managing to level the two with the gesture simultaneously – no small feat, but one he had down to a practiced science after his years of teaching. “Might I hear your names?”

At the time the "change" had occurred, Uryuu and Kida-san had not yet encountered other patients, had not yet heard their voices. As far as they knew, language division was the norm. Despite the man exuding confidence, Uryuu couldn't help but get the sense that behind the nod, he had as much difficulty understanding them as they did him.

The man kept moving precisely as if he'd sprung out of a television set, obviously posing for them. As little as Uryuu trusted Kida-san, as disinclined as he was as a general rule to bond or share with others, he found himself glancing at the other boy, his expression a clear mixture of, is this guy for real? and See? Mental institution. (Hypocritically, of course, given his own penchant for drama).

The flashy, distracting movements failed to keep Uryuu from paying close attention to the man's words: Maito Gai the name, a kind of creature of Konoha, wherever that was. And, apparently, a ninja. Though the guy had not barreled down the hallway, it was difficult for Uryuu to suspend his disbelief in this matter. To decide if this Maito Gai was impressive or insane, useful or not. Two things provided the benefit of the doubt: 1) indubitably, if Uryuu were to explain that he was a Quincy and what that entailed, he'd be considered mad, and 2) Maito Gai spoke of explanations.

"Ishida Uryuu," he answered, and deliberated as to how to label himself. Student or Quincy? To omit the latter seemed, somehow, wrong, to be denying himself; but that feeling was absurd. He didn't sign his test papers or exams Ishida Uryuu, Quincy. "Student at Karakura High School, of Karakura, Tokyo, Japan."

[ooc: SORRY A) SO LATE!!! B) TL;DR WITHOUT MUCH HAPPENING ;_; wanted to let kida say sup mah name is what my name is who my name is... C) ... all the edits ]

Edited 2010-08-12 05:46 (UTC)

And now he passed through the familiar hallway, where he usually headed upstairs. But tonight, he continued left, past the staircase. Yes, in theory, it was more dangerous, but he'd rather find a dangerous patient in a main room than wander the halls waiting for some monster to find him, so down the hallway it was.

There were plenty of people talking, waiting, or passing through, but he ignored them as he rushed to his goal.

Edited 2010-07-31 01:33 (UTC)

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/940332.html?thread=71549740#t71549740)]

"Quit overreacting. Have another smoke, or something." He sped up a bit to pull ahead of Matt and make for the stairs. There was still a lot to be done tonight. Mello was sure that if he could accomplish something, he'd feel better. Getting a nic fix for Matt helped, but didn't really count. What he wanted was weapons, and lots of them.

"Hey, did you get treated to a bullshit visitor today, too?" He needed to compare notes with someone he could trust, and he still needed to get the bitter taste out of his mouth that Near-only-not had left him with. Matt had seen it through to the end, back home-- Mello's expression darkened for a fleeting second. The final end, for Matt, and arguing that he hadn't done it yet didn't absolve Mello of responsibility, not in his eyes, and not, he was sure, in Matt's. What made it even worse was that he knew he'd shamelessly use Matt's knowledge of his past, Mello's future, if it would help at all.

"Go fuck yourself, yeah?" Still, he dug into his coat pocket, fishing out the somewhat crushed pack and popping it open, sliding a slightly mangled cigarette out with his teeth on the filter. Lighting up as he hurried after Mello, Matt resolved that his precious pack must have been squashed during the assault - a turn of events he was not at all pleased about. Neither was Mello, obviously.

As he sucked in a deep, calming drag of noxious smoke, he glanced at his friend, finally catching up to him. "No," he answered simply, pondering the question. He'd overheard talk of them, sure, but nothing solid. Matt had to wonder how such a thing was possible - more brainwashing? Such a widespread phenomenon had to have been noticed by someone on the outside already. He fought back a chuckle as they passed the hallway that would have led to their respective rooms. Take that, you crazy jerk, he thought at the German mess they'd encountered, hiding his snicker.

An idea crossed his mind just before they reached the stairs. "I know you don't want to," he said carefully, in a low voice, "but this might be a good idea to try to contact Near. He has resources we don't, mate, and I know you don't like to hear it, but he could get us out of here." He wasn't entirely sure how it would be possible in his case, but he was sure that if the three best and brightest of Wammy's got together, they could damn well find a way.

Edited 2010-08-06 06:16 (UTC)

Night 50: Main Hallway, 1-West

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