[from here]

Now that he thought about it- as in, actually thought about it- maybe it might have been better to wait for one of those 'better ideas' to grace them with its presence. Even if it had meant sitting around in the slagging reception area for the rest of the night 'cause, as he felt the first drops of rain pelt down the back of his shirt and felt the floor underfoot harden to cement and the roll of thunder shudder through his back teeth, that first idea had been a bad one. A very, very bad one.

They weren't just outside. Oh, no, that would have been too easy. They'd somehow walked out of the Institute and right the Pit into the very heart of Doyleton, no doors necessary and no easy escape routes. And all around them he could see the slow, shifting shadows of figures hunched not against the rain but from rot, not as many as the week before but there nonetheless. And here they were, caught in a crossroads between the slagging beauty salon and the Sherriff's office. They might as well have turned up at a Sharkticon convention for how well this was going to go down- and not just with those things, but with Hime.

Wincing, Depth Charge cast her a sideways look. "Bad move?"

[from here]

The hallway was empty, but Depth Charge was used to that by now. This place seemed to have a thing for drama, and what could be more dramatic than footsteps echoing in a long, bare, dark hallway?

Checking briefly over his shoulder to make sure Hime was still following him (like Pit he was going to lose sight of her around here, not with his track record), he bypassed the first door and stopped in front of the door to the sleep trial hallway. "Not broken down yet," he commented, giving the door a little experimental push with his shoulder. As expected it didn't budge, but it gave the same old satisfactory creak that indicated it could be easily broken down. "Congratulations. We're the first here tonight." The first ones not strapped down, at least.

Obviously, expecting the princess herself to do any manual labour was out of the question. Dropping his flashlight expectantly in the general direction of Hime's hands so that he at least had one hand free, he stood back, gripped the crowbar in both hands and swung it at the lock so that it made that satisfying little chipping sound he was so used to hearing around here. A few solid hits and the lock would free up, good as gold.