damned_institute | Night 53: M1-M10 Hallway

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Night 53: M1-M10 Hallway

As Sora had guessed, Bridget had refused to budge from his sleep through all of dinner, and even through the nighttime announcements. Landel seemed uptight, worried about something and annoyed at them all at the same time. As if he had the right to be annoyed at them! Sora frowned up at the intercom transmitter for a moment.

Still, was there really going to be a visitor tomorrow? The Eagle sounded like some sort of weird nickname, but in this place Sora could only guess. For all he knew, it was a real eagle -- or rather, some huge, rabid eagle monster.

It seemed that he wouldn't have to worry about it until tomorrow, though, and so the boy did his best to focus on the present moment. He'd organized everything for Arts and Crafts, so now all he had to do was gather his things and head out to the meeting spot.

Well, changing into his proper outfit was the first step, though doing it in a quiet room with his roommate sleeping in the bed only made Sora miss Hanatarou even more. Even if they'd awkwardly turned from each other whenever they'd both changed their clothes, at least they'd been used to each other and at least they'd talked.

Sighing as he put the finishing touches on his outfit, Sora then grabbed for both his radio and his flashlight, nodding to himself. He remembered how Scott had offered some batteries, but he'd have to pick those up another night. For the moment all he had to do was get to the stairs, as he did practically every night. And so he stepped out of the room and quietly moved down the empty hall. With Kairi in the mix, there was actually a chance that he might be beaten to the stairs, so he had to hurry!

[To here.]

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Dean slung his jacket over the bed as he checked for what stuff he might want to give to the Doctor. If he had any salt, he'd give the guy some 'cause you never could have enough but...yeah, he was fresh out. He was probably overthinking this, especially helping out a guy who was fitting the definition of all kinds of impossible.

But it was either that or get hung up on his talk with Sam and he knew he wasn't equipped to handle that thing right this second. Or ever, but he didn't have that, so sooner or later he'd have to suck it up. Grab it by the balls. That kinda thing. Dean didn't have a whole lot of time to go breaking his promises to Sam. It was a shitty way to go, far as he was concerned. All he needed was some time to just take it in, make sure he wasn't onboard still with murdering Sam in his sleep (hell, he was probably too surprised by that talk with the kid anyway) and get through another night first. Didn't seem too bad on paper.

Then again, he'd thought that the night he ran into the Doctor, so Dean was a little wary.

If he could just make it without Daleks and monster statues, he'd be set.

Dean checked the salt line around the room's edges while he waited, then the devil's trap on the ceiling.

[Skipping from here]

Another turn and another stretch of hallway later, and the Doctor could see M2 ahead.

Last time he'd come this way was the night Donna and Brainiac 5 had been taken for experiments, and... Well, he really hoped that tonight wouldn't have any similarities to that night, for everyone's sake. At least Landel hadn't mentioned anything of the sort in his (admittedly lacking) announcements.

The Doctor stopped outside the door of M2, giving it a firm knock before cracking it open to peek inside. "Dean?"

Dean turned, the bowie knife in his hand. It wasn't looking in the best of shape and he'd kill to get the Impala back - there was something to be said about having an arsenal instead of this junk. He made sure to keep that knife where the Doctor could see it after their last run-in with it, sliding it into the sheath slung across his hip as he motioned the other patient inside. Dean was still separating out the stuff he'd stolen over the nights - he would've stolen more, but hey, only two hands here - as he gestured for the Doctor to take a seat so he'd get this all set up.

"How's your friend, by the way?" Dean asked, glancing over his shoulder at the Doctor. Donna hadn't been talkative the one time he'd sat down with her but he couldn't blame her. She'd been through hell, so if she wasn't exactly in a sharing and caring mood, he'd give her her space.

The Doctor took a seat at Dean's desk, eyes trained on the knife and the shadow of a disapproving frown on his face. It didn't seem like Dean would try to use it against him again, but seeing it at all was a reminder of the case of mistaken identity.

"Better," the Doctor answered, looking finally away from the knife to Dean's face. "Well... probably. I didn't actually end up finding her today, but knowing her, she'll be okay." There was an unspoken 'I hope' somewhere in there, and the Doctor paused before adding, "Eventually. I'd give it a few days at least."

He may have not seen Donna today, but he'd be sure to find her tomorrow to make sure he was right. Or maybe even tonight, if he happened to see her; he wasn't going to try heading for her room after Dean's, since the chances seemed good he would have already missed her, but if he ended up spotting her in one of the halls...

"So what was it you wanted to see me about?" he asked suddenly.

Edited 2010-12-17 16:01 (UTC)

Dean held up a roll of gauze, tossing it over to the Doctor, "Figured you could use this. Somehow I doubt you're packing the same bandages as you did last time."

Those bandages on TARDIS hadn't exactly been as loud and flashy as the Daleks, but they'd definitely made an impression on Dean with that insanely fast healing. Would've been real nice to have on the job, Christ. Like the Daleks, he could safely say they didn't have those back where - when? - he came from. Damn shame they hadn't thought to pick up the stuff before they got dragged back to Landels, although it wasn't like there was any way they could've predicted it would turn out like that. Dean went through the rest of the stuff: forceps, skull chisel, scissors. A lot of stuff you could use for patching someone up or using them as weapons but...yeah, he wasn't sure about the Doctor, if it was wise to start handing him weapons, no matter how friendly he was, or if he even knew what to do with them in a first aid crisis. He figured if the guy was used to borderline magic bandages that going ghetto with all this other stuff was probably asking a lot.

He started to put the rest back, speaking over his shoulder, "I'm probably gonna have to run a supply run," seriously, they were dangerously low on salt, for starters. "You up for coming?"

The Doctor caught the roll of gauze, glancing down at it. "Oh, yes; thank you," he said. That would have been handy to have last night, instead of using his tie as a makeshift bandage... It took him a moment to realize what Dean had been referring to with the 'last time', but then it clicked: the bandages from the TARDIS he'd used on Dean's hand. "No, I don't have those here, but this'll do. It'll be good to have on hand."

He slipped the bandages into a coat pocket, wishing again that they were still bigger on the inside; really, at this rate, he was going to run out of pocket space before he ran out of things to keep in them... especially if he might be picking up some more things tonight.

He had been thinking of taking another look at the chapel, but really, it wasn't so pressing that he had to go again tonight. A 'supply run' could be a good idea—he had the roll of gauze Dean had given him, but a few more wouldn't hurt, just in case. And who knew: maybe he'd find something even more useful, if there were more than just medical supplies to be had.

"Of course!" he answered with a smile, standing up. Dean was still rooting around—or maybe organizing—but the Doctor didn't think it would be too long before he was finished. "It sounds like a brilliant idea; definitely wouldn't hurt to pick up a few things."

Dean snorted. The way the Doctor was smiling, you'd think they were going on a milk run or something.

"What'd you have in mind? Probably help if we had a plan of attack," Dean said. He wasn't sure if the Doctor had seen that copy of the map someone had put up, but it was one of those things Dean didn't plan to leave without. He spread the copy he had out on the desk so the Doctor could take a look himself, craning his head down.

Okay, so he sucked at drawing. Dean never claimed he could draw worth a damn, but he figured it was (mostly) legible and that was what counted.

"Sun Room's probably a death trap, so I'm thinking we should try to avoid that," Dean said, tapping the paper with a finger. "Could try upstairs, see if we got any better luck there."

If they were really lucky, Dean would get through the night without getting shot at or...statued-at, which somehow sounded crazy, even with his line of work. Dean glanced over at the Doctor to judge his reaction, still privately amazed with the fact that the guy was still alive despite not carrying any real weapons (he wasn't sure if that sonic screwdriver counted or what), much less able to smile like a cheerful sonuvabitch. If Dean wasn't careful, that was probably gonna rub off.

The Doctor didn't have much of an answer until Dean spread a map across the desk—the list of where he'd been was growing by the day (or by the night), but he wasn't exactly sure where the best place to pick up supplies might be. The map was a bit sloppy, but it provided a slightly better idea of where to go.

"I agree; upstairs sounds more promising." There were a lot more unlabeled places, for one; there were also the sleep study rooms marked off in a block, but there wouldn't be any supplies there. But where to start...

He pointed to a large block of rooms on the right-hand side of the upstairs. There were a lot of rooms marked off there, so it might be a good place to start. "This area might have something," he suggested. There were slightly fewer unmarked rooms on the left side of the map, but... With the proximity to the sleep study room, they might have been examination rooms, or medical-only supplies. "Well, the only thing we can really do is start checking rooms one by one. Some of these might just be offices, but they have to keep supplies somewhere."

He glanced at the door and then at Dean, his smile dimmed but still lingering on his face. "Allons-y!" he said, gathering up the map and heading for the door.

[To here]

Edited 2010-12-22 03:59 (UTC)

After the intercom announcement (John didn't understand any of it, except it was nothing like standard hospital procedure), after he heard the door lock click open (ominous, the sound of the lock turning; real horror movie stuff), John sat on his bed, studying the map Dean had given him and considering what to do next.

Staying in wasn't an option, not if he was ever going to figure this place out. So as soon as he was satisfied he had the layout of the map in his head, he folded the sheet of paper and tucked it in a pocket with a pen. He got up and paced to the closet, trading the soft slippers he'd worn during the day for sneakers. (Practical, he thought. Something he could run in.) He grabbed the flashlight he'd found (still wondering why a flashlight would be kept under a pillow), testing to see if it worked. It did. Good.

That done, he stepped out into the hallway, pausing to take it in. It was just a hallway. Dark, but still, just a hallway. He shook his head as though to rid himself of all the stories of monsters and injuries he'd heard during the day. There was no reason to jump at shadows.

John walked towards the main corridor, keeping his eyes open.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1018567.html?thread=74777543#t74777543).]

Edited 2010-12-14 20:26 (UTC)

Kurt adjusted his belt and gloves one last time before closing his closet. Everyone he'd ever had comment on the sheet was right: it really wasn't such a good idea to wear it when his uniform was already built to freely allow the sort of movement he needed when on a mission. He could catch the sheet on something, trip on it, get tangled in it. And no one, aside from that scary redheaded girl, ever commented when they saw glowing eyes coming from under the makeshift hood.

And so tonight he decided he wouldn't go out with the sheet. He would just walk out, into the hallways, like Goku did with his tail.

...nonetheless, it wouldn't hurt to be safe.

Kurt opened the door and poked his head out. When he saw the coast was clear, he darted out and ran for the stairs.

Goku followed right behind Kurt, but his nose led him elsewhere. After getting all rallied up to fight and get out of this place, the little boy wanted to find Kibitoshin or that lady, Claire, or maybe even Spock so that he had back up, just in case it actually did get dangerous around here. Unlikely, but people kept saying otherwise.

Just as he was getting used to balance without a tail, now Goku couldn't move a few steps without wavering back and forth like a boat being bullied by its stern. Inevitably, he went down face first with a loud "Uwwwaahh!" echoing the length of the corridor. Rubbing his stinging face, the monkey boy haphazardly continued his trek through the dark hallway with nothing to light his way as per usual.

[To here]

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1014975.html?thread=75014079#t75014079)]

It was a relief, somehow, having an actual goal to work towards during the night. It made him feel better, like he was useful, like he could do something. He could heal and that... that was useful here, and if people were being tortured like... like Haseo had been, then he wanted to help. He wasted no time in dressing, changing into his sneakers and he frying pan. He was hoping not to be involved in fighting but he'd rather be prpared.

When he was ready, he grabbed the radio, switching it on just in case. He didn't want to miss anything if he could avoid it and he felt sort of responsible for Marc in a way. Tsukasa had met him, so he should pay attention.

With that done, he headed out into the hallway, hoping that he'd find the right place.

[To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1017510.html?thread=74884006#t74884006)]

The Head Doctor's message was foreboding as usual. Though it was highly annoying, Ranulf made sure to pay close attention to it. Anything this person said could render a clue to what would be in store for him as he ventured out into the darkened hallways of the Institute.

As his sharpened senses returned, Ranulf flipped through the pages of the leaflet he'd carried along with him on his journey with Sakura and Nightcrawler the night before. The inside cover revealed a few of the hallways they'd darted through... hardly a map at all. It was a start though, and he'd continue the layout until it was finished. The laguz figured the more he knew about his surroundings, the easier it would be to find a way back home.

Picking up the leaflet and a pen, Ranulf peeked his head out the door. Empty... good. He slipped out, jogging stealthily down the corridor, footsteps hollowly echoing off of the dimly lit doorways.

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Night 53: M1-M10 Hallway

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