damned_institute | Night 53: F21-F30 Hallway

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Night 53: F21-F30 Hallway

And that was just a weird jumble of nonsense. She wondered if that Marc guy knew anything about the name that Landel mentioned, or if it was just more bullshit being thrown around. She wouldn't doubt it. The girl shook her head, sighing a bit, and straightened, snagging her sword from its leaning position. Tucking it securely into her waist band, she turned to her roommate, giving her a small smile and a wave.

Then she grabbed her flashlight, tucked it into the other side, and moved to leave. She had a date, after all, didn't she? Wouldn't do well to be late. Like always.

[to here]

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[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1016785.html?thread=75026129#t75026129)]

The next hall was about as quiet as the first, although Niikura still kept his eyes peeled for the look of the thing. No sign of Badd's target, though - which meant time for Room Inspection Round Two. They'd made it through one hall without any mishaps; with luck, this one would prove the same. He'd still be keeping his distance, though, whenever Badd pried open a door.

...and he couldn't let things get too quiet. Still looking around casually, Niikura asked, "...so, Badd-san, where ya from? Anyplace interestin'?" Knowing this guy, he'd take the question with suspicion, but it was worth a shot.

Edited 2010-12-27 09:00 (UTC)

Badd was going through the rooms faster now, a bit annoyed. Laden with one teenage idiot and unable to find another, did his life ever not suck? At this point Badd was considering not going back to jail at all and finding some little hidey-hole in the country to spend his lasts days in instead.

"Los Angeles, nowhere special," he answered flippantly. "You?" Badd would bet on somewhere in Japan, from that little 'san' on the end of his name. Could be Zheng Fa, of course, Badd hadn't done much research on the country besides what parts of it the ring had their grubby little hands in, but the accent wasn't quite right.

Niikura smirked as he watched Badd zoom through the rooms. Looked like someone wanted out of his company, what a pity. He seemed to have that effect on people around here.

"Nihon," he replied. "But ya probably already guessed that." It was always interesting to see how quickly people recognized his origins through the honorifics. "And I've actually met a couple of people from Los Angeles - know a guy called 'Damon Gant'?" He crossed his fingers. Maybe Badd would turn out to be the desperately needed third party source he was seeking.

And then there was that girl, the one who called herself the Yatagarasu. A name had been signed too - Kay Something or Another. She was also from Los Angeles. He'd never seen this girl in person, but hey...the more he thought about it, the more he was liking the idea that this was the girl Badd was looking for. Niikura would keep this information to himself, though; it wasn't like talking with Kay about the limits of justice had involved her room number.

Badd didn't give him a horrified pause or dramatic doubletake at the name, he was too experienced for that. He continued moving down the assembly line of open and shut doors.

Spoken with Gant, hm? Now that was a name to drop. Badd weighed the information he might be able to gain against the potential risks from the seemingly innocuous Nihongite. He'd been a part-time cop and a part-time corporate spy, and in both jobs information was the most precious resource you could have.

Let's see what Niikura knew.

"I knew him on the outside," he said, leaving the relationship ambiguous. It would be wisest to play it cool and act as if Gant was nobody important. "Why? He a friend of yours?"

Jackpot. But he couldn't celebrate yet: Gant was probably "known" by many because of his high-profile position, but it didn't mean that Badd really knew him and what kind of man he actually was. Time to test for quality. (Great minds, they thought alike.)

"Kinda, but I think I'm the only one that would consider us 'friends' by any stretch of the word. I teamed up with him a few nights ago out of circumstance, and..." Again, how to say things without sounding unnecessarily suspicious? "...took an interest in the Chief, I guess. Guys like him, I'm always a little suspicious of 'em." He looked at Badd. "Sorry, if yer good pals with him or somethin'."

"Pals? Heck no, I could never stand being in the room with the guy." Badd gave a slight roll of his eyes and felt queasy at the very thought. If nothing else he never trusted anyone who laughed too much...not after her.

Empty, horrified stare, messy but empty. If the kid was on the level it was a good thing he had that healthy sense of paranoia, Gant had proven that he had few boundaries to his depravity. "I'm guessing the Chief never told you exactly how he got that position," he commented as he shut another useless door, giving Niikura a sideways glance. "It was a huge scandal a few years ago, though probably not something that Japan would care about."

Outing a cop in a federal prison would be the equivalent of putting a hit out on him, unless he had the kind of protection Badd had bartered for. Being a police officer here might not have the same danger to it...but if it did, Badd wasn't particularly fussed. The bastard deserved far worse than cushy couches and fine meals three times a day.

"Oh, okay." First strike.

The second strike...he was totally unsurprised. Of course Gant had to have trampled on a few people on his way to the top - and yet, he'd looked sincerely honest when he said that he always acted in pursuit of justice. And Niikura was rarely wrong when he read people; there had to be a catch, some tie-in that he was missing.

"No, I guess it slipped his mind," Niikura said, looking serious for once - almost scarily so. "Why don't ya fill me in?"

In a way, Badd really would be putting a hit out on Gant by talking, except this kind was different. Right now, Niikura had no intention of actually performing Akumetsu - he had no mask, for one, and no wish to truly, finally die - but the next time he and Gant saw each other...wouldn't that be interesting? Finally, he had his payment for all those questions he'd answered.

"He sure didn't sleep his way to the top. Where to even start..." Badd made a little musing noise as he went along the hallway.

"Damon Gant's murdered at least two people that we know about. The first was a prosecutor name of Marshall. Gant impaled him and messed with the crime scene to pin the blame on this sweet little girl named Ema Skye, then hid the evidence and used to blackmail her older sister Lana. He got promoted to Police Chief for catching the killer, then got Lana made Chief Prosecutor so he could control the DA's office too."

He was still trying to play it cool and detached, for all that the thought of what Gant had done made his blood boil, but a tiny bit of anger leaked into his voice. People who hurt kids, especially girls, were likely to get a little police brutality in their interrogation. There were criminals and then there were flat-out monsters.

Niikura's grip on his flashlight tightened so much, for one second, he almost thought he would break the damn thing in half. It...it wasn't even just bribes and luxurious, excessive pensions. It was murder. That was--

Katsuragi had gone almost the same way: killed for profits. Killed like his life didn't matter, like he was some tool. Unforgivable. Evil. Evil evil evil evil evil--

"But he was caught." And probably supposed to be paying for his crimes by rotting away somewhere - yet instead Gant was relaxing in a mental asylum where, for at least for half the day, they spoiled him with quality meals and nice, calm, therapeutic activities. Well. That might all be ending very soon.

Badd picked up on the small shift in Niikura's demeanor, the way his body tensed at Badd's revelation. Interesting. The next door was opened slowly and Badd barely paid any attention to the contents within. He kept talking lightly about earthshattering matters and watched Niikura out of the corner of his hawk's eye.

"Took years and another corpse to do it. Another detective got too close, so Gant killed him and pinned the blame on Lana." Badd was a bit fuzzy on the details. They'd all been following the case at the precinct but it had been years ago and the papers were barely able to keep up with how quickly the 'facts' changed. "Nearly got away with it until some hotshot lawyer got involved. They sent him up the river forever, no idea how he wound up in a cushy joint like this pretending he's got amnesia about the past two years."

More than he deserved. Badd wouldn't have acted as Skye did, he'd have taken matters into his own hands more efficiently. He knew as much about destroying evidence as he did about finding it and he was at least Gant's equal in size and skill with a weapon and they'd have had a bad corpse rather than a virtuous one in the back of the prosecutor's car...

It wasn't worth thinking about now. Gant got his trial, even if he claimed not to remember it, and once Badd got out of here he'd be sent right back to state pen where he belonged. Justice was done and it was done the proper way.

But if Gant so much as looked at Kay he'd break the bastard's legs.

Now that he was over his initial bout of fury, it was time to concentrate on the important details - names in particular. For example, both Lana and Ema Skye were on his list of law enforcement written in his journal, and Lana's position as Chief Prosecutor checked out. So...maybe he would need to seek one of them out - probably the older sister since she was more likely to take it better - if he needed to and get some motivations straight.

And then there was the matter of the lawyer Badd had mentioned, probably the same one Gant was talking about at lunch. And yet, the Chief had seemed to think pretty highly of whoever it was that had...actually figured him out. Simple admiration for a worthy opponent or something more? It marked another investigation to consider.

"Huh. Well, thanks for lettin' me know. Looks like we'll be havin' an interestin' talk the next time we collide." Oh would they ever. "Also...he might not have amnesia. Time gets pret-ty complicated 'round here." Niikura nodded to himself as he folded his arms. "I mean, what year are ya from? Probably not 2007." He was just going to assume that from now on with everyone he met and leave himself free to be pleasantly surprised.

Oh, not this stupidity again. Was there some kind of script they were all working from that said 'time travel and mysterious evil night monsters and also being very clingy to people who really don't want you around'? Everyone seemed to keep to the party line on that one, as obviously stupid as it was. "Don't insult my intelligence with that time travel garbage," Badd growled. "I didn't take it off Gant and I'm not going to take it off you."

Gant hadn't even been police chief in 2007, if Badd's memory served him properly, so the number seemed pulled from absolutely nowhere. At least if Niikura had named the 1700s Badd might have given him points for creativity. And all that right after Badd had helped him out, too.

"Riiiight." Well, guess he just had to take that as 'I'm not from 2007'. At least it wasn't too hard to decipher. "Should've figured ya'd say that, since between the two of us here, yer the sane one. My bad."

Hopefully he hadn't burned a bridge. Badd had given him some useful information, and Niikura had an inkling that he had more, too. But then, he hadn't exactly tried to prevent it from going either, given what he'd just said. Sometimes, it was just plain difficult for him to be any shade of respectful.

Badd let out an annoyed grunt. Little punk. "I'd say I'm the sane one. I'm not the one thinking I could take a guy three times my age armed with nothing but a radio. So what's your story, what did you do to get stuffed in here?"

He really didn't expect an honest admission of criminal guilt or proper insanity. People here seemed picked at complete random--teenage punks, old men, murderers, little girls. But knowing what Niikura had been doing might help give him another piece for the dizzying nonsensical puzzle that was Landel's Institute.

They were reaching the end of the hall now. Half the area down and still no Kay. Badd really hoped she was taking a nap.

"And a flashlight," Niikura added cheerily, waving it.

And ah, now what to do? He could drop the truth on Badd ("I'm not sure, but it might have something to do with my terrorist activities - or else one of my clones playing a really stupid trick on me.") or he could play dumb. Well. He'd given Mello a roundabout answer a few nights ago; that one ought to do the trick.

"And that's a good question, 'cause I don't know. I'm a student." Niikura shrugged. "Got on the bad side of some thugs recently, but that's it. Nothin' insane."

Another hall down, and no sign of that girl. Third time was the charm, though, right?

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1014307.html?thread=75073059#t75073059)]

Edited 2010-12-30 20:28 (UTC)

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Night 53: F21-F30 Hallway

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