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damned_institute2010-07-11 04:56 am
givemeoblivion.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2010-07-11 04:56 am
NIght 50: West Wing, North Hall 1-B
[from here]
There was no one here yet. And wasn't that strange? If she remembered correctly, there was a male patient block here. Even if it was away from the others, it should still be fairly well occupied. Were they all just staying in for the night? It was also odd that no one from the female block had come up this way yet either. Either it was just too early, or something had happened in her absence that kept others from coming this way unless they had a larger group with them (or not at all).
Callisto stopped to shine her light down into the adjacent hall, seeing if she could pick out anyone heading out of their room. She thought she heard the sounds of people moving about on the other side of the wall, so it couldn't be completely empty. Was there any point in waiting around? She didn't need someone to accompany her, and it had only slowed her up in the past anyway.
She would wait a bit, perhaps, if only to sate her own curiosity before moving on.
There was no one here yet. And wasn't that strange? If she remembered correctly, there was a male patient block here. Even if it was away from the others, it should still be fairly well occupied. Were they all just staying in for the night? It was also odd that no one from the female block had come up this way yet either. Either it was just too early, or something had happened in her absence that kept others from coming this way unless they had a larger group with them (or not at all).
Callisto stopped to shine her light down into the adjacent hall, seeing if she could pick out anyone heading out of their room. She thought she heard the sounds of people moving about on the other side of the wall, so it couldn't be completely empty. Was there any point in waiting around? She didn't need someone to accompany her, and it had only slowed her up in the past anyway.
She would wait a bit, perhaps, if only to sate her own curiosity before moving on.
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It took little time to reach the recreational field from where his cell was located; it was only a matter of moving through a small number of hallways. The only problem would be of what was on the field, however, as there were relatively high chances of it being guarded. A logical solution would be traveling in a capable group and taking on the enemy would be an advantage; a ninja had no need for honorable one-on-one battles, something that wouldn't change now. However, finding a group and having its' members gather would take up otherwise valuable time, time the ninja wasn't willing to spend now.
Tenzen continued the infuriatingly familiar route of heading through the patient block and slipped through the door into the next hallway, only to find it to be occupied. A lone woman, unfamiliar but likely a patient.
"Hoh? I was beginning to think I was the only patient heading out for tonight," he said in manner of greeting. Though he had briefly considered moving on without so much as a second glance, much less speaking up, he realized that perhaps taking someone with him would not be a bad idea. After all, who knew what would await him on the recreational field.
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Nevertheless, he'd spoken up and she might as well learn what she could from whoever she could. If nothing else, she could always shove him in the way of danger. Never underestimate the value of a meatshield.
"Yeah, same here. Thought maybe there was something going on I didn't know about." Easy enough, seeing how long she'd been out of commission, but he didn't need to know that if she could help it.
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Not too many people had ventured out yet, from the looks of things. Good, Scott thought. He was still limping on his bad leg a bit, and having to fight his way through a crowd on said leg would slow him down intolerably. Granted, that just raised the question of what Scott thought he was going to do against the (ulp) two-headed fire-breathing monster if/when they got to it, but, well...
We'll, uh, just burn that bridge when we get to it, right? Right! Scott thought with a nervous laugh. The more he actively thought about what lay ahead in that basement, the more apprehensive he was going to get. Best to just think about tonight in vague terms, he figured, so as to avoid turning into a pile of jittery goop before even getting to the meeting point.
[To here]
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It took a fair amount of exploring before he reached the larger hallway. With no map, the numbers made little sense, but it was apparent that M17 was nowhere near the higher numbers of this area. He stalked quietly through the hall, not bothering with his flashlight, only feeling along the wall as he followed the other lights to the far end of the hall. He did remember that there were a lot of rooms in this area. It wouldn't do to be late to the world meeting after all. He pressed forward, humming quietly to himself.
[[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/938569.html?thread=70936137#t70936137)]]
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It was just one dark hallway after another here, wasn't it? Izaya couldn't tell one way from the other, so he stopped after a few steps, flicking on the flashlight to take stock of the area. If he only used it for a little while, he could disappear before any roaming staff caught him out and about.
Izaya could make out a door at the far left end of the hall, but there was no telling where it might lead. Instead, he decided to turn to the right, continuing down the hall.
[To here]
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The next hallway was bigger, and...hey, wait, was that a door that would go outside? He sure hoped so!
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This hall was nothing new; Niikura had gone down it each of his past few nightly escapades. He'd probably get to know this hall like the back of his hand by the time he was through with this place.
[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/938786.html)]
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Almost outside. Almost outside. Almost outside...
It was a well known fact that Millia remained faster than both Master Zato and Venom himself, but the Guild Head could have fooled the world with the way he sped back into the hallway. That brief stop at Edward's room had barely been enough to catch his breath during, but he couldn't slow down now. He had to keep running.
He didn't bother kicking open the door to the recreational field. As soon as it was in range, he just shoved open the thing with his shoulder, sharp pain and bruising be damned.
[Over here]
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So far so good. The passage of time was an unpredictable thing in Landel's Institute, but Kirk had a feeling that they were making good progress tonight. This didn't outweigh his quiet apprehension about everything else, but at least he could keep his mind off of that while he had a mission. Chekov. For now, accounting for his crew was all that mattered.
He let the door close securely behind them once Bones was in, and picked up the conversation again: "I don't know if the maze has anything to do with it, but it's not like him to miss a report." Kirk scanned their surroundings. Dark, quiet. "Other disappearances have indicated that sleeping a lot and missing days is part of the pattern, which makes me hope that Chekov's still around."
Hope. A heavy word. Kirk headed down the corridor before his voice could further betray his uncertainty.
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This place had a goddamn labyrinth on the grounds? Bad enough this place had malpractice pouring out every which way, but this was just crossing into the bizarre, something more suited to either a mad man or someone who had both money and egomania to spare. McCoy looked at him dubiously, but followed the captain anyway. Jim wasn't one to go making something like that up. As impossible as it sounded, or as unlikely, he to accept that there was either a labyrinth on the grounds, or that Landels was able to reach one with their transporters.
It did sound like there was something wrong. Chekov might be young, but that didn't mean he wasn't a professional. He would have checked in.
"He should have woken up in his room like the rest of us, even with those doors," McCoy pointed out. Hell, they'd been back in time and on his own Enterprise when they'd been pulled back. Granted, it might have had something to do with the transporter room, but they'd been somewhere other than the institute.
They were heading further down the corridor, his step falling in line with Jim's, when the doctor spoke up again. "He might not even be in his room still, Jim. He might have taken off already. Your orders didn't include a rendezvous with any of the crew, so he may not have stuck around."
He didn't quite believe it himself. It was one possibility but it didn't account for the lack of reply to the bulletin board, but he also hadn't followed those "symptoms" Jim had mentioned.
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Where was he even going tonight? He had not made any plans with his friends, and now he had this ring on his hand to think about. What was he going to do? The image of the sphinx's golden room was still fresh in his mind, and he had been wondering where the room was located in the institute.
Wryly, he thought to himself that he was feeling more directionless than usual. His Personas, usually quite contrary with each other, echoed in agreement with his feelings. Somehow, he'd have to get by in this institute. He couldn't just continue floating along in the institute without some sort of progress.
Shaking his head, Minato hurried down the hall. There were still enough passing flashlights around for him to get through the hall without turning on his own.
[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/938569.html?thread=71002185#t71002185)]
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People. More one-way streets. God, this was getting dull already. It'd been a total of five minutes and Damon was tired of the charade.
For a moment, he stood there, eyeing the couple of people in the hallway, considering if there was anyone worth putting to use. But he had no way of knowing if they were spiked drinks on legs and anyway, if whoever took him didn't know what he was, there was no need to tip them off.
He had his ring, after all. That was a stupid oversight, if they intended to keep him for any length of time. Fortunate for him, though. He didn't know how the other vampires did it, squirreling away from the sunlight for the rest of eternity.
He spun the ring absently as he walked through the doorway linking two separate halls. He paused for a moment, gaze flicking over his surroundings. Was this place unguarded or what? High schools had better security than this.
For the sheer lack of security, though, there were an awful lot of people lingering inside. Was there something else keeping them here?
Dammit, he didn't like this at all. For the first time in a long time, he almost felt hunted, cornered, and that wasn't a feeling he appreciated.
[colliding into Elena over here]
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And now there was the hallway where they'd all met up with each-other. He was glad that he hadn't seen Threepwood this time, he'd probably left while LeChuck knocked out his closet rod. He was hoping to keep this searching for that pirate-pantywaist's other enemies as secret as he could.
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He was struck by the scent of Venom once again (only temporarily heightened by the smell of the man's blood), and once again the vampire wondered what was wrong that had turned him so... frantic. Cool indifference seemed to be his main frame of mind; or it had, at least, until they had seen the thing that looked like Zato. It was fascinating how devotion had quickly turned into hatred. Even hunting him like an animal, Edward had felt the cold killer in Venom's mind. It was really the first time he had felt how deep the murderer was in him.
You're too old to care about things like that now, he told himself, moving swiftly through the hallway, the large shape in the pillowcase hitting the area between his shoulder blades with each step. He used to kill men that were in Venom's field, sure. He'd even killed Venom before. But it was becoming harder to tell whether he wanted to defend this particular assassin because he had some deeper quality to defend, or rather because he was an asset.
Hard to tell. Working with humans was still so far beyond him.
It was best to keep Bella and Venom away from each other for now - like separate parts of his life at the institute. Sometimes Venom seemed sane, sometimes... unhinged. An unpredictable personality was not what he wanted near her, even if he trusted Venom enough with himself.
Move quickly. He urged himself onward.
[To here.]
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"So, the doors were transporting people to Doyleton, and you claimed to have arrived elsewhere after that?" This solidified Erika's theories that the quaint town had more to do with the workings of the Institute than the place itself. A dark town with dark secrets... Such a common setting for this kind of inelegant mystery.
The hallway before them stretched on, quiet as ever save for a few people passing here and there. She wondered if there would be anything waiting for them once they reached outside, maybe another fantastic battle? Or a live monster this time? It would be impressive to see one of the creatures in motion.
"Can you tell me more about this city you arrived in?" In the meantime, Erika decided she wanted to know more about what Leela saw. She would have to ask others later about last night, but she had to start somewhere. Perhaps Erika would be able to divine the location of this city, or perhaps it was a dead-end. Still, she was in the mood for a good story.
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"The funny thing about the town was that it was like we were ghosts. My friend fell right through someone."
Leela hadn't gone this way before, having been shuffled around through the common areas, mostly. She noticed again how young most of the people passing through were. They seemed to be handling it okay, purposeful and all. "There'd been some sort of natural disaster. I know it was on Earth." She was trying to be helpful, and it didn't occur to her that that might have been an unusual clarification. "Japan, actually. It was going to be all right." She didn't want Erika to worry about her home.
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Allelujah moved quickly out into the hallway. He paused for a moment, pondering whether going out onto the red field was a good way of getting to Artemis's room, but dismissed it quickly. Too often, there were enemies out there and there was no sense getting held up so early in the night.
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Despite the darkness of the empty halls he schooled his expression. His grip on the chainsaw didn't ease, though he shifted it from one shoulder to the other.
It was a novelty knowing he wasn't the only thing out on the hunt tonight. So many warm bodies so close. He understood the attraction.
[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/938786.html?thread=71167522#t71167522)]
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"I'm from Star City myself," Oliver continued, as he rounded the corner into the hall. It was the truth, if not all of it. He'd been born there, after all, and even if his base of operations had shifted over the past two years, it was still what he thought of when he thought of home.
Even as he spoke, he scanned the hall. There were more people here, and though most of them had a very definite air of passing through, no one he spotted seemed particularly ill at ease. Which was unusual; even under the best of circumstances, darkness tended to unnerve people, especially in places that typically shouldn't have been dark.
"My name's Oliver. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but the circumstances are a little less than ideal."
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Star City was an unfamiliar name, but that wasn't particularly surprising. Maybe this man hailed from some Ferelden island or mountain top village with an overinflated sense of importance. Once Zevran had removed himself from this place, and dealt with countless other life-threatening issues, he could worry about geography. It would be an odd stage in his life where he had enough leisure to peruse books for a city in which there was no one to kill. If he allowed himself to be optimistic enough to assume he'd ever have that sort of free time, he hoped it wouldn't last long. Idle hands and all that.
Fortunately for Zevran, unfortunately for Oliver, he was here unwillingly as well. That, or it was a very elaborate trap. It seemed unlikely and a bit stupid, since they already had him. (If it were a trick, they had at least flattered him with handsome bait.) Zevran cautiously put aside such suspicions in favor of the much more likely scenario. Oliver was a fellow victim of this very unattractive building, and whoever occupied it.
"Then I will reintroduce myself when we are free," he promised easily, "and we can discuss how happy we are to meet. Until then, I take no offense, Oliver."
The end of the name overlapped with the sound of a disembodied voice. It bled out of the walls and echoed around them. Although poised for the attack, the weapon Zevran had chosen seemed more inadequate and flimsy than ever. His pulse quickened in anticipation, and even as the announcement went on, it took several moments before his body recognized the lack of a threat. A part of him was admittedly disappointed.
"Ah, lovely," he began, over the irritatingly cryptic threats and under his breath. Any further sarcasm was drowned out by the screech that ripped through his thought process. The cylinders he had adopted fell from his hands, but the clatter was nonexistent in the face of that noise. Pressing the heel of his palms over his ears barely discouraged it.
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Raph kept moving, hardly even slowing down as he moved through the hallways. Tonight was going to be different. No wasting time be teleported around the place, no getting into weird fights with stupid chicks with strange hair and floating swords while some other girl tried to tell him what to do. No, tonight he was going to find something and fight it on his own. One way or another.
And if that 'something' was one of the people running this place? All the better.
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One sweep of the hallway with her flashlight told Claire that it was almost empty. Creepy. She hated going places alone more than she hated wondering if Sylar was that stranger in the corner. With a shifty gaze, she looked over her shoulder at Elle and slowed her pace so that the other girl could walk beside her instead of just following. If they were very apparently together, maybe they'd be less likely to get jumped.
"Stick close," she ordered, tightening her grip on the shard of glass and not noticing in the slightest as it whittled away at the tendon between her thumb and forefinger. At this rate, if they actually did run into anything, she wouldn't even be able to hold the glass tightly enough to do anything with it. But, the lack of pain kept her from noticing the way her blood was dripping freely off, even as the wound resisted healing.
"I haven't heard of anything really bad being in the hallways, and we're almost out, but ..." She wasn't going to take any chances. Not on the way to finding herself a real weapon, anyway.
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"I am. Don't talk to me like that." Like she was in any position to give orders. And like Elle was expected to be completely obedient and follow them. Claire wasn't Noah, she wasn't some Company superior. She was going to whine more, but her attention was finally caught by the blood dripping from Claire's hand.
"Shouldn't that-- aren't you...?"
A flashbulb of realization.
"You're fucked up, too!"
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Maybe Stephen was trying to curse him. The gibberish could have been some sort of incantation in some dead language. Not that Rolo actually believed in that sort of thing, but his Geass had been real enough. Maybe other worlds had something like that too. Whatever it was, Rolo wasn't sure it was working and quite frankly, he still didn't believe in crap like that.
He shot another glance at Stephen and started to retreat down the hall again, being extremely conscious of his surroundings. He would take care of Stephen and his brother's task at the same time.
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If anything, this 'new' language had a bolder edge to it, something he hardly associated with the brunet ever since they met. He could've sworn he heard the same word that Spike said the first time somewhere in all that jargon, which prompted him to continue.
"What are you trying to say?" Right now the God-General had to admit he was mildly entertained, but if this went on he was sure it was going to get old fast.
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The doors to the right were closer. Uryuu switched on his flashlight and walked over, then pushed them open onto a corridor. Directing the light down its length showed a space that looked mostly identical to the one he stood in, only opening directly into a hall or room at the end, rather than another set of doors. He guided the doors into a silent closing, then turned, walking quickly down the current hallway, which did end in a door: one labeled FIELD.
The air felt colder on this side of the hallway. As Uryuu reached to open the door, the chill emanating from the frame raised the hairs on his arm. Once open, he again searched the next area by narrow light; grass, a large field, markings that suggested football (soccer to some). The process now repeated: a gentle close, a pivot, retracing his steps, now to Kida-san.
"Another hallway or outside," Uryuu began, but before he could continue, his pillowcase began to talk.
More accurately, the radio seemed to have turned itself on (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/948319.html), and a man's voice sounded, muffled by the cloth. He called himself Marc and went on to talk about rings. With a quick recovery from his surprise, Uryuu untwisted and opened his case, juggling the flashlight (now off) to his pocket, then retrieving the radio--just in time for the broadcast to be terminated. The finishing sound left his ears ringing; they'd been unprepared for it after the comparative quiet of their explorations thusfar.
"Rings?" Uryuu wondered aloud, distracted from their decision. "It must be a message for the others here. I found no ring."
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In any case, like Ishida, Masaomi hadn't seen any rings or portals or cameras, unless there really had been a few situated in the bathrooms. If he strained, he imagined he could hear echoes of people who had been here before. Recently, too...
"A bright side dawns," he finally replied, twirling the flashlight as if it was a laser pointer. Light refracted from the smooth metal accents of the corridor, and he relaxed at the thought that the shadows here weren't as all-absorbing as a Dullahan and her horse's. "Signs of life! This Marc guy might even know what's going on behind-the-scenes."
That didn't mean the guy sounded exactly trustworthy. Dark abysses didn't sound all that great, and neither did the invitation to try again with the rings... was it just him, or did the tone not match up well with the content of the speech? Cutting off at an ominous moment like that was more cliché than Marc could afford, as far as Masaomi was concerned... but he kept in mind that neither he nor Ishida were in a position to know for sure. Too bad the radio was really unlikely to work two ways, not like in chats. Marc could be telling the truth as well.
[ @here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/938786.html?thread=71418146#t71418146) ]
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Stalking out into the hallway with a sledgehammer in one hand and flashflight in the other, Forte heard another announcement over the intercom. Wasn't it usually longer before that bastard started gloating again? He briefly worried that he was losing time again, somehow - after all, some nights were shorter than others, what if this one was going to be over in a matter of minutes?
When the horrible shriek came through, however, the question was quickly knocked out of his head. It was only a brief moment of pain, mostly annoying, but it gave him pause to remember that it didn't matter. He couldn't do anything about it anyway, so he just had to focus on his goal - finding a real fight.
So, if it was either the Sun Room or outside... the field was closer, but also wet. The Sun Room was still nearby, and something told him, as a regular fortress guardian, that it would be well-guarded. Even if it was questionable how useful they were, it was an access point to several other rooms, and the focus of their regular days. So, guided by his vague logic, he turned toward the main hall, and hurried on.