damned_institute | Nightshift 23: Janitor's Closet

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Nightshift 23: Janitor's Closet

[sneaking by from here.]

Focused less on what might be coming after them, and more on moving out of sight of the monsters, Reno glanced back just long enough to make sure that Rufus was still alive and well, before attempting to get them into the nearest door. The first didn't budge - gave no sign of even planning to budge - but the second felt like it almost gave way.

It would've been easier just to blow the lock off with his gun, but that probably wasn't a good idea right now. He gripped the doorknob and gave the door another forceful shove with his shoulder. It flew open with a satisfying crack.

Though it was pretty damned dark, there was enough light from Rufus' flashlight to catch a glimpse of what was in there.

And there was definitely stuff in there. He could already spot a few things of use.

"Hell, yeah." He turned around, eyes on the door. "Rest of you wanna loot the place while I keep watch?"

He would've preferred to hunt for equipment himself, but given he was the only one out of all of them with any sort of weapon, he either took the job or handed over the gun to someone else. And he wasn't about to trust Schuldig or Crawford with any sort of firearm.

Besides, Rufus knew what Reno was looking for. The President could gather the metal required - if there was any, that was.

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Rufus' nodded in the darkness, a thoughtful look on his face. Schuldig might have said more than he meant to there, but Rufus couldn't remember off-hand if the telepath had said before that he could or couldn't get into the minds of the staff. Either way, it was something to remember. It wasn't exactly a bad point for Schuldig. The telepath wasn't a good after all, and Landel's had been sure to protect themselves. That merely left the question of 'how'.

The fighting the others were doing was ignored for the most part by Rufus with the easy way that anyone used to being protected versus being the protector had. He was aware of the danger though, and not about to stupidly blunder into it or become part of it. He knew that something that dumb on his part could and would put his own people in danger, and that was unacceptable. While they were paid to live and die on his word, Rufus didn't take advantage of that overly most of the time. All that flicked through his mind if Schuldig were listening. Given that Rufus had never met a telepath, he had no way to keep the German out, nor did he try. As far as he knew, there was no way to.

"Exactly, Mr Crawford," Rufus murmured as he followed Reno quickly enough, nodding to the redhead as he made sure the two Schwarz members were with him. "Reno knows someone he calls an Alchemist that can fashion weapons out of metal."

Although Rufus knew who, the name Roy flashing through his mind, he didn't speak the name. That was Reno's knowledge to share, not his own. Giving Reno another nod, he turned the beam of his flashlight into the room and started pawing through the things piled about.

"I would give half of Junon for my white suit right now," Rufus grumbled more to himself than anyone else as he searched. "I am outlawing sweatsuits at Shin-Ra from here on out."

Picking up a pipe, he hefted it in his hand, not used to weapons of this sort. While he wanted his suit instead of this cheap clothing, he would have sold someone else's soul for his shotgun. However, a pipe would do for now. The toolkit was glanced at and tucked under one arm. It could come in useful.

"Got a pipe, Reno. Looks about two feet long. Toolkit and something called WD-40 that says it helps with rusty things too. It has a hammer, screwdriver, and I have no idea what the rest are. Crawford, can you or Schuldig pick locks? There's a box cutter there if either of you are good with knives and more pipes."

Some of the batteries were taken as well as another flashlight. That way he could give Reno's back to him later. A garbage bag was snared up, Rufus needing a moment to figure out how to open it before dumping the toolkit, batteries, and extra flashlight inside as well as the WD-40. It might help on some of those locks. Sliding that over one shoulder, he passed the flashlight over the room for Schuldig and Brad to grab whatever they wanted as well.

Even as he stood aside for the Schwarz members and gave them light, he offered Brad the other flashlight he had found with some batteries. The box cutter, a potentially deadly weapon in the wrong hands to Schuldig. Brad just didn't look like the sort that could slash a person up to him. In his mind, they were with him and therefore his responsibility, and he'd no more send them without something for protection and use than he would have let Elena go by herself.

(( http://damned-info.livejournal.com/7682.html#cutid3 is the list of what's there ))

It really was amazing, what Rufus thought he couldn't hear. He had mentioned he couldn't touch the minds of the staff before, over the bulletin board - it wasn't really a fact he liked revealing but, to be honest, it was self-evident. If he could access the minds of the staff it'd be hard to explain why he hadn't found a way out or knew more about the logistics of the place already.

And not revealing Roy's name...as if it mattered. Schuldig already knew all of the alchemists in the institute, and would share that information with Crawford in due time; what Reno did or didn't decide what to share was irrelevant.

"I have some skill for lockpicking," Schuldig replied to Rufus with a slight smirk. "And if I'm around anyone else who does know, then I can borrow their knowledge as well." It wasn't really a major skill, and he doubted that there were any sort of tools around here that would be truly useful for pursuing that course of action, but announcing that fact just further upped his apparent value in Rufus' eyes and was therefore no bad thing.

He did his best to tune out the thoughts around him then, in order to focus on the contents of the closet and work out how to make the most of them. The boxcutter was a no-brainer; after checking the blade - which to his delight and against all expectation was sharp and apparently brand-new - he made sure it was closed and tucked it away. It was an exceedingly short blade and knives had never been his specialty, but he could probably barter it off to someone desperate. And who knew; with Crawford already having put in an appearance, perhaps Farfarello would show up next, and if he knew anything about the muscle of Schwarz it was that he'd be intensely gratified to have a blade. For arming himself, he took one of the more solid-looking pipes. He'd never been particularly strong - his trademark was speed and sharpshooting, not brute force - but with a lead pipe one didn't need a whole lot of arm strength to cause serious damage.

The chemicals were also something he took into consideration. Useless to him as they were, but... "I wonder if any of these chemicals could be used by the alchemists to create explosives," he murmured aloud.

He could feel his fingers twitching slightly; a combination of excitement, tension, and purposeful overdose of sugar was making him jittery. He needed that energy for his mind...but when it translated into the rest of him, it made his hands shake and threw off his reaction times. He usually found something to do with his hands, both to redirect that energy and to hide the twitching.

He wasn't a habitual smoker, but at times like this - when he was stressed and twitchy - he wanted a cigarette. How handy that Reno had some. A mental nudge in the proper place, an implanted suggestion that went all the way to the nervous system, and he held out a hand for the cigarettes(he'd decided to take two, in the end - one for Crawford, if he wanted one, and if he didn't then the telepath would have one for later), assured enough of his success that even asking aloud was unnecessary.

His headache, expectedly, intensified, but not as much as he'd expected. Perhaps manipulation on such a minor level wasn't even worth restricting much; he had no illusions as to the migraine he'd be nursing if he'd tried to do something more difficult.

With the lock picked and Schuldig having retrieved a blade, Crawford found no need to say anything at the moment. He, too, entered the storage room and began to look around for something that could be used - either as a weapon, or just to barter or be useful later. The boxcutter they would keep, as their own safety came first, but he knew that in most cases, a person could be bribed to part with information, an item of their own, or more. With no possessions to his name save his glasses and his clothes (and whatever else was in the desk or table in his room), finding something to barter with here would certainly help him in the future. It was how he had survived so many years both inside and outside Rosenkreuz - because even though he could see the future, most current information did not provide itself so readily.

He hadn't always been able to use Schuldig and Nagi, after all. Some information simply had to be found.

First, Crawford examined a pipe. It was about two feet long, iron, and unused. Spare parts for pipelines, maybe? Regardless, he took it and put it under one arm - that would be his temporary weapon. He was better at hand-to-hand combat and typically saw all the blows before they came, but when faced with something or someone who was already armed and when the future no longer showed him where the strikes would come from, it was just a better idea to be armed.

Then he turned and surveyed the rest of the room (ignoring the way he saw Schuldig hold out his hand to Reno with no vocal instructions, as if expecting something) for items to barter with. There was a tool kit on the floor, tucked away behind some mops, and he crouched down to open it. It wasn't locked, surprisingly, and inside he found no small amount of tools. A screwdriver, a hammer ... all dangerous in the right hands. He pulled out the screwdriver and slipped it into one semideep pocket, then did the same with the wrench. The hammer he left - if someone else wanted it, they could take it.

After a moment of contemplation, Crawford stood up again and turned back to the others, gripping his pipe experimentally. If necessary, it would make an excellent lever to pry open a door ...

At the mention of pipes, Reno perked up slightly. They'd always been his weapon of choice, something he'd carried over into the Turks with the design of his EMR. And for some reason, he didn't find himself surprised to see Schuldig taking one, as well. Schuldig hadn't been wrong - they were alike, and Reno couldn't figure out if this was interesting or just downright eerie.

"Grab a good few of the pipes, if you could, boss?" The metal looked sufficient for Mustang to use.

He leaned against the doorframe, letting himself grow a little more lax now that it seemed nothing was going to come in thirsting for blood. It wasn't until he was already halfway through flipping open the matchbook that he realized he'd just - handed Schuldig a couple of cigarettes?

Wait. What the hell?

Reno narrowed his eyes. He couldn't be entirely sure what had just happened, but it also wasn't that hard to figure out.

How about we stop fucking with my mind, hmm? he thought, knowing and intending for Schuldig to pick up on.

On the outside, he offered Schuldig a sweet smile, and finished striking the match as though he'd never paused for that split second.

"Funny. Almost like you never even asked."

Amusement flashed through Rufus' mind as he watched Reno and Schuldig. Weird how much he did tend to watch people versus interact with them. He seemed content on the outside. Despite the fact that he did notice Reno handing over his precious cigarettes without Schuldig saying a word to him, none of it made it to his eyes or face. It was his wall against the outside. The appreciative look he took of the Schwarz members as they had their backs to him and digging around, of course, did show either. He did like the red hair. That was one of his few secret vices. In Edge (and Midgar before) red hadn't exactly been a common hair shade, and Rufus was great lover of anything that wasn't common. Exotic things always did appeal to him.

The likenesses between Reno and Schuldig weren't lost on him either.

His thoughts jumped away from that and back to their ongoing situation with ease, used to thinking on multiple tracks at once. They had metal, and that was definately in their favour. While blunt weapons weren't his choice, they could be used, and it was much better than relying on pens. All in all, it was being a favourable night. That didn't put him at ease though, quite the opposite really. Nothing good happened without something horrible being around the cornre in Rufus' mind.

Nodding to Reno, he selected some of them, letting Crawford and Schuldig take their pick first. He wanted the metal in these, not the use. Adding them to the garbage bag, Rufus tested the weight of it. He had to smirk faintly at the memory of Yuffie and her pillowcase. It could make a good weapon as well.

"I think we've gotten enough for now. If those chemicals could be used, Schuldig, you're asking the wrong man. I don't know much about them."

A name and face flicked through Rufus' mind. Rude. There was a half-moment of nostalgia before business took the forefront again. He forced back the image of a dark haired man before it could fully surface. Thinking on Tseng would do him no good.

"As for stealing skills, it might be best to limit on that. If someone realizes what you're doing, they might take offense. While I want you in one piece, I can defend myself and Reno can pick up slack, but a lot of people are in groups. Let's not start a battle we can avoid."

Sidling up to Reno at the door, he nodded his head towards the hallway further down. He was well aware of the Schwarz members at his back, men now armed.

"We ready?" he asked Reno, fighting his own urge to keep his eyes on everyone and everything. A small show of trust might be necessary at this point, especially with the silent Mr Crawford.

Schuldig took the cigarettes from Reno with a smirk. "Almost," he agreed, spinning them between his fingers lazily for a moment before holding out one and lighting it on Reno's match; the other one he tucked away, figuring he'd offer it to Crawford later. As far as he knew, his partner (he preferred not to use the word 'boss', even though that was a lot closer to the truth) wasn't a smoker, but he bet that they could use it to barter with other patients...actually, Kudoh would probably kill for one, although he'd been borderline homidical towards them even before they had anything he wanted. Schuldig set that intriguing thought aside for later; he might be able to buy some form of appreciation from the man by providing him with something as simple as a cigarette. Aloud to Reno, he simply said, "I'm not used to having to ask, anyway."

For the moment, however, he wasn't paying Reno much mind; the thoughts running through Rufus' mind had most of Schuldig's attention, as they were plenty interesting. He'd expected (and had already begun to encourage) the fact that Rufus was attracted to him, given the man's underlying fondness for redheads; that had been pure, happy coincidence on his part, but no matter what the president's preferences Schuldig was confident he could have won the man over regardless. He'd left off the obvious flirting for the moment; for one thing, he suspected that Rufus wouldn't appreciate it in front of people he was trying to exert authority over, but mostly it was because he didn't want Reno interfering with his efforts. He doubted the Turk would be thrilled to find that Schuldig was trying to bed his boss - hell, Reno was sharp enough that he might even suspect that Schuldig was interested as much in gaining an edge with Rufus as he was from any actual attraction to the man.

No, he'd let the president know that he was still definitely interested, but in front of Reno it would be subtle. In a way, that was almost better; the direct approach might put Rufus off, whereas a quieter, more sideways approach intrigued and enticed on a whole different level. And for him to have any sort of influence over Rufus, he needed the man to want him far more than the reverse.

Idly, he wondered whether such a calculating approach would put Rufus off, if he knew about it, or whether it would actually have attracted him to Schuldig more. The president was the type to appreciate a well-thought-out plan of action, and given that Schuldig wasn't actively planning on using any edge he gained against the man or his Turks(actively, anyway; he was probably making life considerably more difficult for them as a side effect but that wasn't actually his goal), Rufus probably could have understood Schuldig's searching for anything to turn to his advantage without resenting it for the consequences. It was certainly the sort of thing Rufus would do.

He'd keep the chemicals in mind for later; he'd ask one of the alchemists about them. It wasn't worth trucking them around if they might not be useful, and while he could try to find a combination for them in one of the alchemists' minds that would tell him if anything useful could be made from them, the alchemical formulas were too complicated and involved for him to bother to try comprehending what they meant; easier just to ask.

The cigarette was already helping, as was having a weapon in his hands. He moved to stand beside Rufus rather than behind him - while the way the hair stood up on the back of Rufus' neck at having his back to two armed men whose loyalty had yet to be proven was delightful, Schuldig didn't want the man to be thinking of him as dangerous(what he wanted Rufus to be thinking of him as was something else entirely). And it gave him an excuse to put himself in close proximity to the man - closer than was strictly necessary. "As we'll ever be," he said, with a grin at the president.

... Schuldig.

Crawford felt his mouth twist and his lips thin as he watched the mute conversation play out between Schuldig and Reno. The cigarettes were handed over and the match nearly lit before Reno seemed to realize what he'd done; the following statement sealed the deal. Schuldig didn't seem to be in any worse mood or any more pain than before, so clearly his influential abilities were still easy to use. Yet still, Crawford felt a slight tinge of worry in the front of his mind. It was possible that Schuldig could over-use his powers, and possibly hurt himself. (And probably someone else, too, but that made no difference to Crawford. Schuldig was his main concern right now.)

At the question from Rufus, Crawford merely nodded, shifting his grip on the pipe. He would prefer a gun, but that wasn't something he would be able to get at this point. For now, armed as he was, he would be able to fight. Something like this could kill or incapacitate - head trauma or strangulation - and Crawford appreciated dual-use weapons.

(It didn't really explain why he preferred guns, then ... )

There was really no point in wasting an already lit match, and so Reno ended up with his third cigarette in the space of a couple of hours. In truth, he kind of needed it, too.

Knowing Rufus, the President probably wasn't too comfortable right now with those two armed. Reno, however, suspected Schuldig hadn't spent all this time sucking up just to give Rufus a whack on the head with a pipe. Not that this knowledge eased his wariness any. If nothing else, it elevated it. Physical threats to Rufus, he'd dealt with more than enough times. This, though. This, he wasn't sure what to make of.

He nodded. "Looks it."

The fight back down in the hallway sounded like it'd died down, at least. He really had no idea where to go next, but there was a room right across the hallway. If it wasn't locked, they might as well head in there.

[to here (http://community.livejournal.com/landels_damned/103523.html).]

[Looking on the other side... (http://community.livejournal.com/landels_damned/103523.html?thread=6270819#t6270819)]

Next was the janitor's closet. There wasn't much left that was useful — Otacon remembered Fox mentioning weapon-viable pipes and a toolkit, but those were long gone. Still, OSP was a principle to live by. Otacon wasn't much of a stealth operative, but there had been a day where a ketchup bottle helped save a man's life, and he wasn't about to underestimate the objects contained here.

One of the smallest pipe pieces, about four inches long, went into his pocket. He knew collecting metal would be handy for anyone wanting the alchemists' services, but Otacon had no need for a sword, and somewhat doubted that Roy could rig him a high-end laptop out of bits of metal and plastic. This could be useful in other ways, however.

Same with the extension cords and duct tape, and a little searching around found another flashlight. He saw an empty box for batteries, but those were gone too. Which was fine. It would be better not to haul around too much anyway.

Otacon tested the weight of his pillowcase bag — hefty, but not too much of a burden. If things got bad, he might have to abandon it up here. He scanned the closet's contents again, and reached out for one of the flat brooms.

As far as fighting went, he was at a bit of a loss, but this would be better than trying to smack monsters with his flashlight. Otacon threw his bag over his shoulder and got moving again.

[from here (http://community.livejournal.com/landels_damned/105006.html?view=6279214#t6279214)]

The walk to the next hall over was relatively short. Penelo checked the doors on the left side again. The first one opened, but it was just a laundry room and Penelo quickly deduced it'd be no interest to them. The second one was locked firmly. The third one... was open?

Penelo curiously looked into the door and promptly bumped into a man who seemed to have hit jackpot with whatever was in the room.

"Aaah!" She managed to regain her balance before falling completely on her backside and let out a relieved sigh. Whew, the last thing she wanted to do was look like an idiot in front of complete strangers.

"Sorry about that. I should have looked."

Kazuo was inwardly glad Penelo had not been with him during Battle Royale, because she would have gotten them shot. He peered past her into the room and then at the man. "Anything good in there?" he asked. No point in looking if they'd taken it all.

"Oh! Sorry!" Otacon apologized at almost the same time, flashing back to yesterday when Yuffie Kisaragi had plowed into him in a doorway. It said something about his luck that these encounters were always with cute teenage girls rather than ravenous mutant creatures.

"It's fine," he told her. "Although it would be good to look. I'm pretty harmless, but you wouldn't want anything to happen the next time, right?"

The travelling companion of tonight's cute girl was not a kid this time — well, not a little kid, but he looked a little younger than the blonde. Like MOMO, he was admirably composed.

"Not much. A few guys were already in here and took most of the interesting tools." Otacon looked over the closet shelves, and pulled the spare flashlight in his bag. "They left this, if either of you need an extra. There's... let's see... another broom and some mops and... a plunger, and the room across the hallway has stuff you can use as bandages."

Thankfully for Penelo, the man was rather nice about the whole thing. The memories of the horrible Archadian Guards who would throw you in a dungeon if you so much as looked at them funny still lingered in her mind.

He was also kind enough to tell them what was left. To Penelo's disappointment, it looked like the most useful stuff was already taken; a shame, but she guessed it was to be expected. The brooms and mops caught her attention though. She was no expert on using poles for fighting, but she had used a few on the rare occassions when her knives would break and that was all they had left.

"Actually, that's really helpful..." Penelo smiled, wandering inside and taking one of the brooms, feeling it in her hands. It was light and flimsy, but it was better then a pen, that was for sure.

Now to just get the... broom part off.

Kazuo too was disappointed by the contents of them room. Next time he needed to start earlier, now that he knew these rooms were here. Penelo seemed interested by the broom. Kazuo wasn't sure how it would work for a weapon; it looked a bit flimsy. But then, Penelo didn't seem like a hands-on kind of girl, so maybe she would be more comfortable with that.

He looked around the room and decided that there wasn't anything he wanted. He glanced back at the man. "Any idea where we could find something better? Not much for weapons here."

"I think this place gets regularly restocked. A friend told me about what he found here last night, and it looks like those things were here just minutes ago." Or was that hours? What Otacon wouldn't do for a watch... "If you get here first thing tomorrow, there'll be some metal pipes of various lengths."

He looked thoughtful as he reviewed what he knew of the Institute's layout. "Let's see... it's possible that there are knives in the kitchen. There's metal in there, in any case. And the last time I was outside, I saw a shed which probably contains things that could be used as weapons."

Otacon looked over them both with interest. Kids. Considering his own history, he'd hardly underestimate others because of age, but it was still a little jarring to see. "Have either of you encountered monsters yet? Oh, and you can call me Otacon, by the way."

It took Penelo a few attempts, but she managed to unscrew the plastic broom-part off of the handle. What remained was a light pole, which would suffice until she got her hands on something better...

Like knives, which she heard Otacon mention. She tuned in, listening to what he had to say. Huh. She didn't think of that; there had to be something sharp in the kitchen, how else would they prepare the food?

"I haven't seen any monsters, but Kazuo has," Penelo told Otacon, glancing over to her companion. Hearing Otacon introduce himself reminded Penelo that she didn't even give her own name.

"Oh! My name is Penelo, by the way. Thanks for the information," She smiled. He was really helpful, she was worried that some of the patients would rather hoard their items and information.

"I'm Kazuo," Kazuo said, even though he didn't really need to given Penelo's introduction. "I saw a monster cat and some roaches last night; nothing very interesting, and nothing at all tonight." Which was really rather boring, and he was disappointed. Kazuo took note of the kitchen and the shed.

"Is there a map of this place anywhere?"

"Oh. Penelo, Kazuo. You're welcome," replied Otacon, managing to not stumble this time. He was getting pretty good at simply expecting everyone he met to be an fictional character. Which Final Fantasy heroine would show up next night? Dagger? Maybe they'd dwelve into the classics and bring in Terra or Celes...

There was also something vaguely familiar about Kazuo, and the Japanese name set off bells. Where was he from...? Otacon shrugged it off. The boy seemed pleasant enough, and he had to be okay if Penelo was accompanying him.

"Ah, I've seen a monster cat too. You two should also watch out if you run into a someone who looks like a robot, or a man with a giant triangle on his head. Just trust me on this, you don't want to get caught by them." Otacon considered Kazuo's question. "Try checking the bulletin board in the morning. There are apparently a few people who've been putting together a map."

Penelo wondered why Otacon seemed to be surprised. She was hardly here for a day; was this man from Ivalice? It almost seemed like he recognized her, but she decided not to press furhter. Standing around in a monster infested area wasn't a good idea, after all.

"All right. I'll... remember that," Penelo nodded at Otacon's suggestion. Whatever the monster he described, it sounded too tough for the patients to handle. Especially if they had nothing but metal pipes and broomsticks to fight with.

Right, a map. Penelo wondered if there was one lying around, but it didn't seem so. She was used to finding maps in ancient urns that were carefully tucked away in places... she guessed that was something that only occured in Ivalice.

"A robot and a man with a triangle head," Kazuo repeated flatly, storing that information for later. It didn't seem very useful at the moment, given how few monsters he'd seen. He considered the information about the map as well. Tomorrow night, he'd get an earlier start, so everything good wouldn't be taken already, and he'd try to copy down as much of the map as he could if he got a free moment.

"All right, well," Kazuo said, "you know where the kitchens are?"

"Yes. Trust me," Otacon repeated. He worried now about whether or not Snake or Fox might've run into Pyramid Head tonight. Not that Pyramid Head was the only deadly thing lurking in the hospital...

He put the extra flashlight back into his pillowcase, and shifted his hold on his own broom. "You've been in the cafeteria, right? Kitchens should be in the back. I haven't visited myself, but it sounds like a popular location."

He glanced at the open room across the hall, then back to the two teenagers.

"If you guys want to check out storage, you should do that now. I get the feeling that the night's about to end soon."

The kitchen... Penelo wished she had thought of that. It was closer and easier to get to. She wasn't too sure about how useful silverware would be in combat, but there always was the chance of finding a sharper knife. If they got there first.

"I guess we can check that out tomorrow then... since everything must be gone now," Penelo guessed, heeding Otakon's words that the night was almost over. She really couldn't tell, but she trusted Otacon's judgement. He was here longer than they were/

"I guess we might as well, it looks like there's nothing else we could use here."

"We can go to the kitchen, or we can go try and sleep a little," Kazuo said with a shrug. "It doesn't matter to me."

"Sleep. Now that would be nice..." Deciding that the teens seemed to have everything under control, Otacon made moves to head further down the hall. "Penelo, Kazuo, take care of yourselves, okay?"

[To here. (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/106441.html?thread=6390473#t6390473)]

"Right, You too!" Penelo grinned, hoping Otacon would make it back to his room safely. If what he said was true, about morning coming soon, then hopefully the trip back would be safer.

On the other hand, maybe it meant the monsters would get more frenzied. She didn't really know, and didn't care to find out.

When Kazuo suggested options, Penelo was really considering the 'sleep' option. She had no idea how people were still up and about during the day after running around trying not to get killed at night. Not that Penelo wasn't used to pulling all nighters and getting few hours of sleep, but in Ivalice, at least they had Magicks and weapons to keep them safe. In Landels, they had... nothing.

"I think we should sleep. I mean, what's the point of finding something if a monster could easily wipe us out? It doesn't seem like there's anything left worth taking anyway..." Penelo looked at the ransacked closet. No doubt, the other storage room Otacon mentioned had suffered the same fate.

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Nightshift 23: Janitor's Closet

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