Entries tagged with michelangelo

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Day 65: 3rd Shift: Courtyard

[From here.]

It was chilly out in the courtyard, making Lloyd glad for the odd but relatively warm clothing he'd found himself in when he woke up. He could have stay inside the building, he knows. His nurse had told him he had a choice of several rooms he could eat his lunch in, if he wanted. The cold felt good, though, and the tree he was sitting against felt solid and comfortable. He still felt lost, but trying to get straight answers from the nurse was frustrating. The man had retreated to let him eat in peace, promising to come back when Lloyd was finished and he'd had a chance to "clear his head." The teen was just fine with that.

Lunch itself was actually pretty good. He'd gotten a chicken sandwich, and his spirits lifted a little when he saw that there was a brownie with it. It had taken him a minute to figure out the box with juice inside, having never encountered anything like that before, but after that it was easy to just settle down and enjoy his food.

Well, for the most part. Worry for his Dad still ate at him, and he had no idea where any of his friends were. He still felt a little off, too, like some intangible part of him was missing or weakened, but he chalked that up to leftover side effects of whatever it was Yuan had done to him. He was confident that would disappear soon enough, once he finished recovering. He already felt well enough that as soon as he was done eating, he was determined to leave. If his doctor had his things, he'd ask for them first, and maybe he could talk to some of the other people here, see if they knew anything that could help, but one way or another, he needed to find his friends and make sure his Dad was all right.

[To here.]

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DAY 65: Breakfast

Scar came to slowly, vision blurred and head throbbing. His memory of the previous night was vague and somewhat scattered. What he was most aware of was his renewed and increased hatred for the man called Lingormr. The Ishbalan didn't give a damn if he had been a special counseling patient. That bastard had enjoyed every second of tearing Scar to shreds. What he may or may not have realized was how much it had affected Scar emotionally. He had felt a renewed sense of drive at the start of the night; the disruption on the intercom and the news of the 'cure' had rekindled a fire that fueled Scar to drive forward. To have a little hope.

Lingormr had promptly crushed that.

He was in pain. So much pain. The cut on his hand was only fading scab at this point, but stitches now pulled at the deep gashes in his legs and back. Not only had the nausea not settled, but his stomach was beginning to cramp. The rash on his arm was impossible to hide without the old bandages covering it. It had nearly reached his elbow.

Scar's hazy eyes could make out the nurse, now pushing a wheelchair up to his bedside. This was humiliating. And he was too exhausted and hurting to lash out or become angry. He was just broken. He still tried to take some sort of grudging control, insisting that he didn't need to be pushed around, that he could at least turn the wheels of the damned chair himself. But he didn't make it down the hallway before the pulling and sharp pain in his back became so obvious on his face that the nurse took over.

He entered breakfast with a frustrated, tired, but overall defeated look to him. Scar felt too sick to eat. He sat at the table and brooded, wishing more than anything to simply be left alone.

[For Goku!]

Entry tags:

michelangelo

Night 64: West Wing, North Hall 1-B

[OOC: From here]

Although maybe there was a chance of tonight not sucking. There had to be a small chance of that, right? He could have a sliver of hope left. Who knew--maybe Turtle Luck would take the night off. Maybe he'd even find a stash of comic books to share with Niikura!

Mike glanced around this hall as well, frowning softly.

Who the shell was he kidding? Tonight was going to suck. It was either going to suck a little or suck a lot. There really wasn't a whole lot he could do about it other than be prepared.

Not that anyone could really prepare for one of their friends to become a monster, but, hey, he was trying. Not that trying helped. The only thing that got results was actual... action. Yeah, action.

There was supposedly a cure. The only chance they had to save her was to find it. So, the only thing that would get results would be finding that.

He had to hurry. He kept on moving.

[To here]

Entry tags:

michelangelo

Night 64: M-C Block Hallway

[From here.]

Mike decided, as he walked out into the next hall, that tonight was probably going to suck worse than he thought. It was best to be pessimistic, so that when crap blew up in his face, he was prepared for it.

So, worse case: Shiina became a monster. Another worse case: someone else became a monster. Even worse case: Someone attacked them and then Shiina became a monster. Absolute worse case: Shiina became a monster, he and Niikura subdued her, and then another monster came along and ate all three of them.

That would just about do it, Mike decided. He kept on moving.

[To here]

Entry tags:

michelangelo

Night 64: M81-M90 Hallway

Tonight was going to suck. One way or another, that was really the only conclusion that Mike could draw. He could hope that Shiina wouldn't turn tonight, but Mike knew how Turtle Luck went. It'd be just their luck to have Shiina change into a monster moments after convincing her that they needed to get her help.

At least one thing didn't suck about tonight: he had a new accessory. A tool belt. Sure, it was kinda stupid looking, but it was a tool belt all the same, and therefore useful. It'd be even more useful if he had something to put in it other than pens, but at least it was better than his previous solution of wrapping a pair of pants around his waist and messing with it until it made a pocket. This was, at least, a normal solution.

Not that Mike really cared about normal, other than his solution distracted people from paying attention to things around them. He was more interested in having a solution that allowed him more natural movement. It wasn't his old belt, but it would be good enough for now.

But enough about his belt. He had two teenagers to find.

[To here.]

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Nightshift 64: West Wing South Hall 1-B

[from here]

hall·way [ˈhɔːlˌweɪ] n. 1. A passage or corridor in a building. 2. An entry foyer or lobby; a vestibule. 3. Really fucking boring.

[to here]

Entry tags:

cox,
michelangelo

Dayshift 64: Doctor's Office 8 (Dr. Cox) [fourth shift]

Well, hadn't that been a nice warm up?

Now that Cox had had a rounding game of fetch with Bingo, he was done with the day and the sacrilege it brought. The only problem was that he still had one more loony to deal with. This one he had no intention of bothering to go get either so the only effort he wasted was awaiting the guy's arrival at the door. With just one knock, he threw the door back, just missing thumping the small nurse and ordered, "You, in. You, go," to patient and nurse respectively.

Once orders were followed, he slammed the door and looked back at the newcomer, watching and awaiting a response of any kind.

Entry tags:

michelangelo

Day 63: Tasty Burger (Late Afternoon)

A hamburger and fries. It was exactly what the doctor ordered. Still not pizza--he had to wait until Wednesday for that--but greasy fast food was something he still couldn't get enough of after all these years without. His stomach still wasn't used to it, but all that would take was training. Lots and lots of training.

Needless to say, Mike was in a fairly good mood as he walked in to grab his burger. He was even going to get ice cream with it. There was even a bit of a bounce in his step, would have probably a bit creepy coming from a heavily scarred man with half a left arm missing if he had been smiling along with it. Well, he was smiling, but only a little, and most people wouldn't even call it that. Just enough to alleviate any chance of a creepy factor, although Mike wasn't even thinking about it nor did he care.

He just wanted his Tasty Burger.

So, he stood in line and waited, shifting his weight from foot to foot every now and then. Man. Why couldn't they hurry up?

[For Johnny!]

Entry tags:

michelangelo

Nightshift 62: M81-M90 Hallway

The aftermath of turning back into a turtle and then turning back into a human again sucked. It sucked horrible. Like Leo's sense of humor horrible. Which, for those of you who don't know him--it sucks pretty bad. Sucking as in keeping Mike bedridden through the rest of the day with pain.

Basically, it sucked.

But things sucked a little less now. His joints weren't as stiff. He felt more... normal. There was still some soreness, but the pain in his scars was gone. Good. After last night, there was no way in shell that Mike was gonna let Niikura down. Even after over twenty years of working with humans closely, there were still few that Mike trusted as much as Niikura. Sure, he was pretty young, but he got it.

Mike broke into a slight jog, going down the hall and towards the meeting spot.

[Hallway skipping to here.]

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Night 61: Mission #6 [Niikura Shou and Hamato Michelangelo]

One second he was walking through the door, the next he was standing out in the middle of a field in complete darkness. "Whoa..." Niikura took a step forward, and jumped a little more than he should have when the dirt crunched underneath his boots. It was real--well, duh, of course it was real. Teleportation wasn't one of the things he was accustomed to, though; it had just felt so surreal, watching the landscape change with the blink of an eye. To be honest, it made him feel sort of amateurish, even though he already had every necessary skill to fulfill this mission as quickly and efficiently as possible. Just one little thing, though. Niikura liked having all the possible factors under his control or at least known to him, and that included initial transportation.

But no time to think about that. They had some people to catch. He looked around for the dim shape of his friend. "Mike-san, ya here?" His voice was a quiet hiss. Even though they were a few meters away from the encampment they were supposed to raid, he didn't want to take any risks while the mission was still in its nascent stages. "We, uh..." Niikura looked down at the two guns clenched in his hands. "...oh, that's nice of 'em." One was clearly the tranquilizer gun that the file said would be provided. Two rounds only apiece. One reserve in case they missed. Not...not too bad. It added a little challenge, although he considered himself to be a decent shot on bad days.

The other...he lifted it up so he could examine it a little more closely, and then nearly laughed when he saw the shape. An M29, huh? Now all he had to do was paint "Nyuunanbu" on the barrel and it'd be like a flash from the past, except hopefully, he wouldn't have to use it at all.

He looked back up again. "What'd you get?"

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Night 61: Meeting Room #2

Mike followed the orderly, but he didn't like one bit of it. He was frowning and openly so. What the shell was going on? The orderly was telling him nothing, and he didn't like it one bit.

Part of him had wanted to defy the orderly, but Mike knew how this place worked. It was better not to piss off the captors when it would only lead to restricted movements later. Even so, part of him was curious over what this was all about. This wasn't standard procedure. Something was up.

He walked into the room behind the orderly, looking around. A meeting room of some sort. He hadn't been to it before, but it wasn't exactly impressive enough to have warranted exploring in the first place.

The orderly left, and he was left waiting. Mike would cross his arms if he had two. Instead, he simply settled with leaning against a wall.

So what was all this about?

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Day 61: Arts and Crafts Room (Third Shift)

Now that he had finally been allowed back inside, the warmth from the Sun Room hit him like a heated slap in the face. With ruddy cheeks and the sticky feeling of perspiration from his little walk/job with Niikura made him feel like a sun-burned mess. His nurse was kind enough to take his jacket from him before he went to the restroom to splash a little water on his face.

It also gave him a moment to himself, completely alone and silent so he could think. The water in the sink continued to run, but the older man was more occupied with the mirrors. He stared at his wet reflection as he took a few slow breaths to help contain himself. The longer he stayed here, the more surreal it all felt. Slowly, he began to feel less and less attached to this reality because he believed it was only a matter of minutes, seconds before he woke up.

He couldn't let the sensation overwhelm him. In fact, he picked a hand up from the sink and pinched himself to prove his point. Bizarre or not, this was his situation and he needed to figure out soon just who put him in it. The fact that none of the nurses would even humor his talk of his Hero alter ego said many things to him. Suddenly no one had even heard of him and it was an all too familiar problem that made his blood run cold. In spite of it all, he needed to be on his toes. This was no time to fall apart, he reminded himself. With one last deep breath, Kotetsu put his clueless smile back in place and stepped out of the bathroom with his nurse in toe who gave him a quick tour of the all the places he could go if he chose to.

He passed one room and took three steps back to get a better look. "Ah, excuse me, ma'am! What's this one?"

"Oh, that's arts and crafts," she said flippantly, not expecting a grown ass man would be interested in playing with clay. Well, she was clearly mistaken now that he saw the extent of the materials. They had a lot in here! And he had the perfect idea. If the staff here refused to regard him as Wild Tiger, he was just going to have to force it on them.

Snickering like a fool, Kotetsu grabbed several sheets of black construction paper, glitter, glue, and a pair of safety scissors before sitting down at a vacant table. Actually, all the tables were empty. He was the only one in here and that was probably for the best since he was making himself a makeshift domino mask of ultimate secretiveness.

He laid all the pieces of construction paper on top of each other before he began cutting out something that looked like an elongated figure eight with little barbed fins at the bottom. It wasn't going very well. Kotetsu was confident he could probably cut a tree down with a stick of butter faster than these scissors would cut through the paper.

He was going to be here for awhile.

[~~Kaede~~ Kairi, come to papa!]

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Night 60: The Sphinx's Chamber

[from here]

Another door that closed and locked behind them. This time there were no other doors to draw the eye. Instead, the one thing Shiina had never wanted and never believed she would see was now in front of them. This time, she didn't hesitate to reach out and take Shou's arm.

"Sh-shou... it... it's really..." No, this was not happening. This couldn't be real and yet, there it was. She could even see it breathing where it lay on the pedestal. A mythological man-eating beast. They were all going to die.

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Night 60: West Hall

[from here]

The door slammed shut behind them with an audible click, and Niikura looked back and sighed. They were locked in...well, that made things easy. There was only one way to go, now: forward.

He switched off his flashlight as they walked further and further down the hall, staring up at the tapestries covering the walls as he had the ceiling in the ballroom. There was a kind of a weird juxtaposition going on here, what with the modern war scenes clashing with the older tapestry style. Landel had truly eccentric tastes in interior decorating--and who would ever decide to stick these things down in the basement, anyway? Adults. Sometimes, Niikura wondered why anyone bothered living past the age of twenty-one, given the way people could turn out.

"...so. This place sure is, uh...interesting, huh?" It made the institute proper look absolutely normal, really.

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Night 60: Cafeteria

[from here]

And here they were! It seemed like just the other night--oh wait, it had been just the other night since they had last been here. Of course, this time there were no hordes of monsters chasing after them or bursting out from under tables...yet. Yet was the key word, and as fond as Niikura was of taking his sweet time when he felt like it, he wanted to get out of the cafeteria before "yet" ran out.

"So I have no idea what to expect once we get down there," he said casually as he walked down an aisle, guessing this was as good a time as any to admit that his research had gone rather shoddily, if only to dispel some of the heavy silence that seemed to be sitting pretty in the room. Admittedly, it wasn't shoddy because of him. People just couldn't talk about what happened in the basement, which made it that much more interesting and appealing in his opinion.

Niikura edged smartly around the corner of the counter in the back and paused at the door to the kitchen. "I take that back. I do have some idea. Apparently there's a sphinx somewhere, so, y'know, it's gonna ask us a riddle so just be prepared to think outside the box a bit." He then knelt down to examine the lock. It was another one of those sketchy ones that just required some brute force or some poison from a demon lord-turned-human, whichever one happened to be available at the time.

"Anyone wanna do the honors? I'll just give it a whack otherwise."

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Night 59: Activities Shed

[from here]

Even though the temperature in the shed was not much different from the field's, Niikura could honestly say that he had never been more grateful for a roof in his life. He turned on his flashlight as he went in, shivering in the cold air, and briefly resting his sword against a wall so that he could try to rub some feeling back into his arms. After several failed attempts, they had finally made it...and nothing had tried to kill them the moment they had entered. Sounded like a small victory to him.

"Well? See anything?" He looked back toward Mike and Shiina. "Lookin' for bats, right?" Water was dripping into his eyes...he swiped the back of his hand across them and then shook his head, sending droplets flying everywhere, before resuming his flashlight search. "Looks like they've got wooden ones and metal ones, so take your pick."

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Night 59: Soccer/Recreational Field

[from here]

It was admittedly a little better outside. The air lacked the smell of too many things not-so-freshly killed and it felt less claustrophobic than the hallways by far. Unfortunately, even the sky seemed to be glowing faintly pink, which meant Code Fabulous was still in effect. It was casting a lot of freaky shadows.

Badou was starting to think that this might have been a bad idea. Passing through the Rec Field was the quickest route to Alle's room, but not necessarily the safest one. Despite the fact that he was moving quickly with his back mostly to the wall, he kept thinking he saw shapes moving out on the field.

He couldn't be more relived when his fingers closed around the cool metal of the knob and the door eased open. Unfortunately, he wasn't the only one who wanted in apparently. Something fat and mangy reared up about five feet ahead of him. Badou froze. The squirrel stared. Badou stared back. You have got to be kidding me.

"You wouldn't be one of those singing---"

The squirrel bared its teeth and lunged. Badou swung the door open, throwing his weight behind it as quickly as he could. The impact nearly pushed him off his feet, but squirrel face meeting door was a pretty fantastic sound. Badou grinned. Asshole.

Maybe when he told this story, he'd say it was a bear. And that he'd punched it in the face. And that it had stayed down, because Alvin sure as hell wasn't going to let a little head trauma get between them.

Badou, on the other hand, would be all too happy to end this sordid affair. He bolted. In retrospect, he should have pulled the door shut behind him.

[RUNNING THIS WAY.]

Entry tags:

m-u,
michelangelo

Night 57: Disciplinary Therapy Room 4 [M-U for Michelangelo]

( Preparation had taken longer than usual with this one, but he was confident that the results would be worth it. )

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Night 54: Waiting Room/Lobby 1

[from here]

As he walked into the waiting room, Niikura nearly closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable sound of several guns or so cocking, or maniacal laughter, or the door suddenly closing behind him and locking him in. None of that happened, but, he told himself (There had been no tinge of disappointment. None.), the danger had hardly passed.

He took several, slow, measured steps into the room and then spun around quickly on his heel, fixing Mike with a piercing stare.

"Alright." He suddenly glanced to the side, flicking his flashlight toward the door on his left. When someone failed to barge in after several seconds, he whipped his head and the flashlight back and resumed staring at Mike. "What was that all about just now, Mike-san?" Niikura's voice had lost its usual lightheartedness; now, just as it had only seconds ago, it sounded flat and almost...accusatory.

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Day 53: Intercom, Morning

When the intercom came on for the second time that day, interrupting people's meals and conversations, it was punctuated by what sounded like a flurry of movement, mainly the shuffling of papers and the noise of things being shoved around.

And yet it was Lydia who spoke. She sounded just as firm as usual, but there was something in her voice that betrayed how tired she was. "Hello, patients. Now most of you will be escorted from the cafeteria into the Sun Room to relax for a short while, though a few select patients will be taken to see their therapist. Also, as Dr. Weaver has had to leave us, some of her patients will make it up with some group therapy."

The loud noises continued, and a grumbling could be heard in the background. "... I apologize for the noise," the head nurse added. "The head doctor has decided to clean his office."

She coughed and sighed. "In any case, have a good day."

The intercom clicked off.