Harvey Dent / Two-Face (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dualistic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2010-12-13 01:42 pm
dualistic) wrote in damned_institute2010-12-13 01:42 pm
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Night 53: M41-M50 Hallway
Dinner had turned out to just be a session of complaining with Lunge about how hard it was to get things done in this place, which just made Harvey take a step back and realize that complaining wasn't going to get him anywhere. As much as he enjoyed stewing in his own anger, the only thing he could do was keep going. That explosion had taken a lot of things from him, but ambition was not one of them. It was just directed to a different cause now.
Landel's hadn't really been part of the equation, but he had to deal with this before he could get back to the rest of it. If only Batman had actually stayed put here, but that was obviously too much to ask from The Dark Knight.
Landel himself was acting nervous, but it seemed like the reasoning behind that wouldn't come to light until the next day. Or... not? He was being extremely vague, which just made Harvey shake his head and ignore it as he grabbed for flashlight, metal pipe, and gun, as usual. He had to admit it was nice, not having to worry about Lunge seeing it. And he hadn't touched it, either.
"Here's to both of us getting further tonight," he said with a shrug, not sounding all that convinced. He already knew that this was an uphill battle, but he wasn't one to lay down and die. So, as he quickly pulled the bandages from his face, not even wincing when they caught on tender patches of burnt skin before pulling away, he turned toward the door.
"I'll see you tomorrow." That was all he had to say before stepping through and heading down the hall.
[To here.]
Landel's hadn't really been part of the equation, but he had to deal with this before he could get back to the rest of it. If only Batman had actually stayed put here, but that was obviously too much to ask from The Dark Knight.
Landel himself was acting nervous, but it seemed like the reasoning behind that wouldn't come to light until the next day. Or... not? He was being extremely vague, which just made Harvey shake his head and ignore it as he grabbed for flashlight, metal pipe, and gun, as usual. He had to admit it was nice, not having to worry about Lunge seeing it. And he hadn't touched it, either.
"Here's to both of us getting further tonight," he said with a shrug, not sounding all that convinced. He already knew that this was an uphill battle, but he wasn't one to lay down and die. So, as he quickly pulled the bandages from his face, not even wincing when they caught on tender patches of burnt skin before pulling away, he turned toward the door.
"I'll see you tomorrow." That was all he had to say before stepping through and heading down the hall.
[To here.]
M42
Taking one last look inside his drawer, the Scarecrow decided to take the two-way radio after all, leaving his own in the desk for now. If he got into trouble (wandering through the Horrible Hallway almost always led to that), he could call for help. The fact that he could keep in contact with Depth Charge over a distance and make sure he was all right was an added bonus.
Clicking his second flashlight on and off again, he gave Depth Charge a nod. "You be careful out there tonight." The door closed softly behind him as he hurried through the corridor- with luck, he'd beat the somethings to the halls and make it upstairs without a hitch.
[To here.]
M44
By the time the Head Doctor's message came on, he could barely even pay attention to it. Instead, his mind was reeling over what he'd just witnessed.
Those bastards, he furiously thought to himself as he paced up and down the room like a caged animal. Those rotten bastards! As if all the other roommates they'd cycled through hadn't been enough. Now they were going to torture Mason, too?! Just seeing the man get dragged away had stirred up a lot of unwanted memories for Claude, and he was determined to make sure Mason didn't wind up alone once those damn doctors were done with him.
As soon as he heard the all-too-familiar click of the locks coming undone, Claude wasted no time in throwing the door open and dashing into the hall.
((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/1018098.html?thread=74769394#t74769394).))
M50
As for himself, he only had a few things to collect: flashlight, radio, batteries, and hunting knife, all assembled on the desk. While he organised himself he had the intercom messages to consider, too- aside from the obvious mystery of the 'Eagle' (the authority figure he'd considered before, but who was he? what was his role?), there was the general cryptic wording of Landel's announcement. He'd sounded scattered- everything about his wording sounded unscripted, quite unlike the polished performances the man could put on when it suited him. He was genuinely rattled, wasn't he?
Warm clothes. He and L were heading to the ruins, so they'd need warm clothes. Switching on his flashlight, Lunge made for his closet to pull out a sweater, and- what was this?
Hanging among the various alternate Institute uniforms, as though it had been there all along, was his suit- charcoal grey jacket and pants, white shirt, even his usual striped tie. But why? There was no real advantage or disadvantage to having it- plenty of people had clothing from home suddenly appear, so it seemed- so why bother?
... hmm. It didn't matter. There were more pockets in his suit, and better shoes for the cold. He changed quickly and distributed his night's inventory in his new pockets before stepping out of the door.
Re: M50
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It was the part where he was expected to work with Spock as if last night hadn't happened that he didn't like. Spock had done the bureaucratic duck-out; the old red tape dance that woulda done any Starfleet bureaucrat proud by referring him up to Jim. Jim seemed like he'd gotten over it, or was at least, trying very hard to look that way. McCoy knew very well Kirk would never talk. He might come to him for a drink and a good talk but he also rarely, rarely aired out that sort of thing and any impact it had on him without digging his feet in.
Spock was determined to smother it (bad analogy there, McCoy was conjuring up all manners of Spock doing that very thing to Jim, and strangely enough, it wasn't seeming as impossible as before) the event, pretend it never happened. Jim was probably trying to just move on without actually dealing with the matter. It didn't change what had happened.
With a face, McCoy gathered his things and left.
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M46
As tempted as he was to continue selfishly confiding in Kibitoshin, he wouldn’t dare to be so presumptuous as to assume that the young man didn’t have far more important things to be doing, especially once the door unlocked. And so he stopped himself when he heard the intercom, his voice trailing off as he covered his pretty face with trembling hands, as though hiding from the announcement, along with everything else he was facing at the moment.
The click of the doors registered in his ears in a much different way that night…more ominous than ever, and more cold – while he’d faced the darkness alone at least a few times, he had never been truly alone in this place. He had always had his cousin, waiting for him…watching out for him, despite how burdensome his presence most certainly had to have been. She had always been there, someone for him to move towards, to listen to, to act for…even when he couldn’t see her.
But now, there was no one – no one to protect him from those things that roamed the institute at night, no one to care whether or not one of the monsters had snatched him as he moved clumsily through the halls. He knew he didn’t have to leave…that he could stay in his room, relatively safe, until the dawn came – and in fact, he had never been so wholly terrified of setting out into the darkness.
Still, when the time came, he rose from his desk, his feet taking him to the doorway, the guilt he felt moving his body as though it had a mind of its own. He knew that there was a part of him that hoped the story he had heard from the nurse wasn’t a lie…that hoped that Kagura had gone home, and that she was happy, with their family, and her friends. Someone as selfless and sweet as she was deserved happiness, and deserved to be rid of this place.
And yet, here he was, someone so useless, so burdensome and unremarkable, wishing that she was still here. Having the gall to feel sadness for his own sake, when he should only be glad for his precious family member...
Selfishly regretting all the things he had never gotten the chance to tell her, or do for her, or show her – his chest tightened.
Before Ritsu knew it, he was calling a tremulous thank you and goodbye to his roommate - his flashlight hung limply in his hand as he stepped out, Kagura’s crumpled little gift still tucked away in his desk.
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And just like that, Ritsuka was gone, leaving his goodbye still hanging in the air and Kibitoshin at a serious loss as to what to do with himself. He'd thought about hanging around here tonight to keep an eye on his roommate and make sure they were okay, but obviously that just wasn't going to work now. Worried as he was, by the time he finished doing the sensible thing and getting his things together, Ritsuka would be long gone. And he certainly couldn't go tearing off after him in the dark, could he?
With a leaden sigh, Kibitoshin sank down into Ritsuka's chair. Maybe if he'd said the right thing, they wouldn't have... no. He couldn't start thinking like that, could he? That only ever made things worse.
Well. Now there was no reason for him to be sitting around his room all night, he probably needed to get moving. With not a little reluctance, he stood up and headed over to his drawer. What did he need, again? Radio, spanner-wrench-thing, flashlight...
As he switched the flashlight on, however, something caught the Kaioshin's eye. Something red and yellow and blue and poking out of his cupboard door just a fraction.
"What in the galaxy?"
There, hanging in his wardrobe, was his Kaioshin uniform. Every last piece of it, right down to the yellow boots sitting innocuously on the floor underneath. Gingerly, very gingerly, Kibitoshin took it out. Nothing happened- no explosions, no electric shock, nothing. He blinked. So- so did that mean that he could wear it? Why? Just how had it gotten there? What was the catch?
Kibitoshin asked none of these questions. Instead, he ripped his shirt off over his head and began hauling the undershirt on as quickly as possible. Then the pants, then the rest of it, until finally he stood in front of his desk in full uniform. And suddenly, he felt a million times better. He'd almost forgotten, during his time here- it had been a very close call- but now he knew for certain. He was a Kaioshin. And he was going to act like one.
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From M49
Even aside from his doppelgänger last night (and Austria's, and West's, though he still refused to admit any of that had really happened) and other miscellaneous oddities (weird doors and the like), he couldn't make out what was going on with the purpose of the prison. Or—hospital, or whatever it was supposed to be. But the guy doing the announcements was quicker to change his tune than usual tonight, it seemed, and all that stuff he was saying... 'the Eagle'? Being on their best behavior? Right, like Prussia was going to follow those orders.
But morning was still a ways off, and maybe he could actually do something interesting tonight. Prussia hadn't gotten to find a fight last night, but Austria wasn't around to drag his feet this time so maybe tonight he could. Feeling pleased by the idea, he pulled his sword from its hiding place in the closet and then headed out of the room and down the hall.
Tonight was going to be awesome.
[Skipping to here]