Night 52: F1-F10 Hallway

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Tifa wasn't sure what to make of the strange promise heard over the intercom. The only conclusion she could come up with was that perhaps this would be another wild goose chase, running into one door, but coming out in a completely different room, time, or world. The first time had been exhausting and fruitless enough, she didn't really want to go through the ringer a second time. There was nothing she could do about it on her own, so she got up and tore through her closet for her ice materia and the knife she had borrowed from Yuffie. The former she tucked into her bra as usual so her left had could easily hold the flashlight.

She wished her roommate good luck and hoped that she returned from the night unscathed, or at least in one piece. Tifa would have offered to take Lightning with her, but it probably wasn't a good idea, not where they were going. The door was opened as quietly as possible and her yellow light was quickly flashed down both directions of the hall. Now that the coast was clear, she left the room just as silently down the hallway where it connected with another.

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Mele changed quickly, tossing the grey uniform haphazardly onto the bed without looking. If she looked, she'd have to think about the nurse(s?) touching her while she was unconscious, and as long as there was nothing she could do about that, she didn't want to think about it.

Not like there were a whole lot of things she wanted to think about, in any case. Today had just been a perfect example of unpleasant thoughts. Just have to focus on what I can do.

She grabbed ring and knife, and stole quietly out the door. In the hallway, she leaned on the wall while she slipped the ring on her finger (most efficient way to carry it, after all) and adjusted her grip on the knife. She wasn't as adroit with her left hand, but her preferred weapon had always been one that came in a pair; she could do well enough left-handed. And the knife didn't look like it could do that much damage, anyway; the arm she wielded it with wasn't likely to make a difference. (Punching with the ring on her finger also didn't seem like it'd make a difference either, so she'd put it on her left hand.)

Replacing her right hand on the hallway, Mele proceeded. There was a reason she'd taken so much care to memorize the route to the stairs—by now, she could traverse it without light.

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