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damned_institute2007-04-20 08:47 pm
blacksustenance.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2007-04-20 08:47 pm
Entry tags:
- aidou,
- alucard,
- ashton,
- caim,
- captain jack,
- dean winchester,
- eddie brock,
- elena (ffvii),
- faust,
- fayt,
- goku,
- hisoka,
- homura,
- javert,
- kazuo,
- kyouya,
- lord recluse,
- mal,
- matsumoto,
- naminé,
- otacon,
- penelo,
- raine,
- raven,
- reinforce,
- river,
- riza,
- roy,
- rukia,
- saïx,
- snake,
- sora,
- tsuzuki,
- wesker,
- xemnas,
- xigbar,
- yuffie
Nightshift 23 - Stairs Near Lobby 1
[Coming in from here]
So far so good.
The stairs to the second floor should be around here. So far they hadn't run into any of the locals here, which was both a good and bad thing: they didn't have to expend needless energy defending themselves, but, on the other hand, that also meant no food. Brock sighed, searching the walls for the door to the stairs, and tried to not focus on the fact that he was not only starving again for human food (apparently they were still recovering from last night), but he was also getting pretty hungry for some of the fresh, rather socially inacceptable meat that had a habit of walking on two legs.
It would be the first time that he could remember that he'd fed when he wasn't Venom. While it probably wasn't a far stretch to assume that the symbiote took his body on joyrides when he was asleep or unconscious, there still remained the fact that he didn't recall any incident where he'd killed with his bare hands, fed as Eddie Brock only.
The mental image of himself crouched over a corpse and going for the head was a bit nauseating, actually and he had to hurriedly focus on the walls before him, rearing up in the darkness and grainy in their eyes. Being back to near-human apparently made him somewhat squeamish again.
It's just a need like normal eating, Brock thought, echoing the reassurances of his Other. It's perfectly okay. We have as much a right to exist as everyone else.
The blond paused before the stairs, slightly comforted by this, and started up them, careful to watch his feet and feeling along the rails with one hand. Hopefully the Chapel was empty when they got there; Brock was all for feeding outside it, but it seemed wrong to profane that kind of ground with even their very honest needs. It just didn't feel right to pull that kind of shit in a holy place (while it didn't have any religious markers, Brock still felt it was special and deserved the proper respect).
So far so good.
The stairs to the second floor should be around here. So far they hadn't run into any of the locals here, which was both a good and bad thing: they didn't have to expend needless energy defending themselves, but, on the other hand, that also meant no food. Brock sighed, searching the walls for the door to the stairs, and tried to not focus on the fact that he was not only starving again for human food (apparently they were still recovering from last night), but he was also getting pretty hungry for some of the fresh, rather socially inacceptable meat that had a habit of walking on two legs.
It would be the first time that he could remember that he'd fed when he wasn't Venom. While it probably wasn't a far stretch to assume that the symbiote took his body on joyrides when he was asleep or unconscious, there still remained the fact that he didn't recall any incident where he'd killed with his bare hands, fed as Eddie Brock only.
The mental image of himself crouched over a corpse and going for the head was a bit nauseating, actually and he had to hurriedly focus on the walls before him, rearing up in the darkness and grainy in their eyes. Being back to near-human apparently made him somewhat squeamish again.
It's just a need like normal eating, Brock thought, echoing the reassurances of his Other. It's perfectly okay. We have as much a right to exist as everyone else.
The blond paused before the stairs, slightly comforted by this, and started up them, careful to watch his feet and feeling along the rails with one hand. Hopefully the Chapel was empty when they got there; Brock was all for feeding outside it, but it seemed wrong to profane that kind of ground with even their very honest needs. It just didn't feel right to pull that kind of shit in a holy place (while it didn't have any religious markers, Brock still felt it was special and deserved the proper respect).
no subject
"The chapel," because he didn't want to admit that he really didn't know where his main objective was.
At this range, it was easy for Recluse to see the change to the other man's eyes. It must have been granting him night vision. Not as sharp as Recluse's own, judging by how the man moved.
He wasn't inclined to trust anyone at the moment, especially not a symbiote- even if it wasn't a Nictus or Khledian. He shifted his grip on the sharpening steel to ensure that it was still hidden behind his forearm. If the situation got out of hand tonight, he was determined to not let anyone get the drop on him.
no subject
Rather than making any unnecessary detours, Raven headed for the stairs she took last night with Naminé and Haruhi. She would have to move quickly though. The dead spider was still fresh in her mind, and she didn’t want to risk meeting any of the living variety.
Once at the top of the stairs, Raven noticed two figures. Thanks to the flashlight, she was able to confirm that they were male “patients”. The smiley face on their gray shirts was unmistakable.
Even so, Raven remained on high alert as she continued walking closer to them…
no subject
Damn. So he wasn't the only one heading to the Chapel. Frowning down at Richter a few steps below him, Eddie just couldn't see the man as a very religious guy - he couldn't imagine that a self-professed supervillian would have much use for religion. It wasn't like he could will Richter away, though, and after a long moment, the blond shrugged.
"Okay. I'm heading in the same direction."
He thought he could see the shape of yet another person in the distance and closing in, but wasn't immediately worried. The form was small, petite, and a bit feminine even in the baggy grays: he got the impresion of a girl. His last encounter with a strange girl in the dark, however, hadn't ended very well (she'd ended up spontaneously combusting while holding him in front of Jonathan Crane). The healing skin on his stomach still hurt just at the thought and his symbiote gave a pained hiss.
They would avoid strange children in the dark getting that close again.
no subject
That was fortunate, although the other man didn't seem to think so. But other people's opinions didn't really matter at the moment. Recluse was most certainly not religious- having a leftist, atheist, newspaper editor father had colored his opinions a little. Of course his father probably would disagree with just about everything his son thought by this point. If he hadn't been shot seven decades before, of course.
The light from down the stairs made him turn to look at its source, instantly regretting the action. Even at this range the glare from the flashlight made him let out a small snarl and shield his eyes.
He pushed past the reporter and up the stairs- anything to get away from those damn lights.
no subject