NIGHT 53: WEST WING, NORTH HALL 1-A
[ from here ]The doors to the next hallway were already wide open when she came through, though the ones at the far end of the hall were, as she could see from one brief flick of her flashlight, were tightly shut. Weren't those the doors to the recreational field? They were in the hall directly North of hers, it only made sense for this to be the
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It felt good, Lunge realised, to step out in his own clothes again. Very good. Far better than he had anticipated. He felt less exposed, less cornered, less like the Institute was dogging his every move and crowding him in with grey. And while he realised that the effect was largely psychosomatic, and while he understood the psychology of it- having a piece of his individuality returned to him, being better equipped to project an air of authority (suit= professional, that was written into most people's minds), being less physically exposed- part of him simply didn't care. Or didn't want to care. Now that he had a suit, he was officially back to work. Thank God.
Which, hopefully, boded well for the two of them tonight. Provided they could avoid the Institute's various perils, they would hopefully be able to get far more of a thorough investigation underway then they had managed so far. Jones had been a useful colleague to bring along, more useful still to speak with, but with just himself and L traveling they could hopefully move faster and attract less unwanted attention. That they'd been the ones to walk into certain danger that night didn't matter- a larger group was a larger target. Simple logic. The point was, with his wrist still twinging, Lunge wasn't sure how capable of defending himself he would be, and if they were trapped out in the open...
... it didn't matter. That was a risk that he was more than willing to take- and he was almost certain that L felt the same. He stopped by the door to the recreational field and waiting, flashlight aimed at the floor. If they were as fortunate as Landel was self-important, there was also the chance that they'd still be able to hear the intercom from the ruins; he struck Lunge as the sort to like his own voice well enough to want other people to hear it from wherever they were. Yes. Danger aside, this night had the potential to be very useful, and Lunge would take full advantage of it.
This was the suit he'd taken to Ruhenheim, after all.
[hey sister soul sister, lemme hear ya flow sister]
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It was annoying to travel this way, so encumbered, but given the need to have most of these items at hand, carrying them in a pillowcase wouldn't have been any better. Some night-not tonight-he'd have to find a real bag; until then, pockets left him with the least to handle. He'd have to worry about getting the flashlight and brush axe over the wall when the time came.
There was Lunge, waiting at the end of the corridor, his feet bathed in a small pool of light. Even from a distance, L could see that he had also found a surprise in his closet.
"A proper agent of the BKA, hm?" he said, by way of greeting. He didn't smile, but the lightness of his tone made it obvious both that he was joking, and that he felt well enough to joke.
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Footsteps. Lunge turned expectantly and was met with a surprisingly wry greeting from someone who'd barely been able to stand the night before. "Naturally. You didn't expect any less," he answered, smiling just a little in acknowledgment and just a little out of genuine pleasure to see the man moving more easily while he made a physical assessment. L's head was still wrapped in bandages, but- what was this? No Institute uniform tonight- under the standard overcoat he could a pair of blue jeans. Those certainly weren't regulation.
Another mysterious reappearance, then. He opened the door and stepped out, holding it open for L with his foot.
[to here]
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