Night 57: West Wing, South Hall 2-B

[oneman_onekill]

[from here]As they made a left into the next hallway, Niikura thought back to the map of the Institute that he'd committed to memory. The hall they were looking for, the one that would hopefully take them to where Mike was being held- it was somewhere on his left. The problem was that this hall was huge, and he didn't even know how many doors he'd

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[princeofthemoon]

Sesshoumaru was used to the babble of others talking; what he was not used to was being expected to participate in the conversation, as Niikura apparently did. When Sesshoumaru had nothing to say than he did not say anything; a novel concept for many, but one which had always seemed extremely reasonable to him. Those who prattled on about every little thing usually had little control over themselves and their emotions, silence showed strength, and control, and perhaps the superiority that should be communicated in dealings with one such as him

[oneman_onekill]

"Aye," Niikura said distractedly as he worked the pen cap around inside the lock. It wasn't giving way...this was getting frustrating...

Get a hold of yourself. Stop panicking and get this done. How many times have you done this anyway, huh? Well, no one's life had ever been on the line ever except his own; even during that one time with the cream puff bomb he'd had a jetpack and all of his equipment.

Well, maybe it was time to call in the reserves. "Hey." Niikura looked over his shoulder. Ses...say, ya got anything on ya that might be able to break this? Just one clean hit like this." He mimed a karate chop. "I'd do it myself, but all I got is my flashlight, and I'd kinda like to keep that intact, and I can't just use my fists 'cause it's rusty."

In his mind, he heaved a sigh of relief. He'd almost called Sesshoumaru by name when he'd never even asked for it; the last thing he wanted was for the youkai to get distracted by this funky human who knew way too much about him.

[princeofthemoon]

Sesshoumaru caught the fumbled syllable, and looked at the human oddly for a moment. He was distracted a little by the unfamiliar name, and asked repeated the word, voice idle and curious - "Flashlight?" So that was the name. An odd, unfamiliar word, but the night seemed full of them. He held it for a moment, on his tongue and in his mind, tasting it, examining it

[oneman_onekill]

Oh, that was right: Sesshoumaru had no idea what a flashlight was; he probably had never even heard the word until right now.

Wow, I just taught him a word. With that truth came a rush of elation that for a moment had Niikura break out into an enormous grin. Who could claim that, huh? This place could be pretty cool sometimes when he wasn't dealing with things trying to gnaw through his ankles or brainwashing.

The sickly sweet scent of the poison followed by the loud snap of the door knob giving way startled him back into reality. "Oh hey, nice job there--whoa." He caught sight of the bared teeth and reflexively recoiled, eyes growing wide. "Everything- uh, everything...cool? Ya didn't cut your hand or somethin', did--" He checked with the flashlight. No blood, so that was good..."Uh...you know what? Never mind."

Niikura sprang back up and gave the door a well-deserved kick inward just because he could- and also because he still wanted to look cool in some way. No, he didn't have poison dripping from his palms (That would be

[human_sponge]

[From here.]

The door into the experimental hallway came up right as they turned the corner, though Peter already knew that. Still, as he moved up behind the other patients, he felt his fists clench around the handle of his shovel and his duffel bag. However, it seemed like they were in the clear. No sign of any monsters and he was pretty sure he wasn't seeing things; nothing seemed out of the ordinary, anyway.

Instead, all he had to look at was the two men in front of them trying to get the lock on the door open. They couldn't do anything until they'd succeeded, and so Peter allowed himself to lean against the opposite wall and keep a look out. "That's where we need to go," he explained in a whisper to Firo. "We'll just follow them in." This at least saved him the trouble of trying to break the lock open himself.

It was good to see that there were other people who were still concerned with coming up here and helping out those who were taken. Even if they were just a group of four altogether, that was better than nothing.

[immortale]

Firo had shot wary looks at the pair who'd passed them, but that was all; they'd been a curious couple, but monsters they were not. Any interest he'd had in them, however, was practically forgotten when Peter used some strange phrase. What was 'brainwashing' supposed to be? It sounded like some sort of torture (how did one wash a brain?), but that didn't follow with what else Peter had said about the 'brainwashed' people. If they were being forced to attack other prisoners, was it some method of coercion, like bribery or threats

[human_sponge]

It wasn't like Peter knew the first thing about picking locks, so he had no idea how long this was going to take. He could have started conversing with the pair, but one of them was busy with the door and the other didn't look like he was the friendliest. If they turned around and starting chatting with him then that would be fine, of course, but for now he'd focus on Firo.

Who had more questions, it seemed. Peter couldn't believe that he'd never gotten around to telling the kid all this before now, but Firo had had a hard enough time dealing with the possibility of monsters until recently.

"Oh, well..." It was a shame that he could talk from experience here, but he didn't want to make that obvious. "I guess people are taken and something is done to them to make them believe that they're working for the institute and need to guard an area. Usually their powers are given back, too, so they have the strength to back it all up. It's dangerous, but it's not their fault, what they're doing, so

[immortale]

"I see," was Firo's response as he tilted his head down, frowning in thought. What kind of... mind control could make people think that they were working for their captors? But... Well, if the details weren't readily available (saying that "something" was done wasn't exactly specific), Firo supposed it could be any number of things. The people who'd been 'brainwashed' could have had their own reasons.

He looked up again to give another glance at the other side of the hallway at a snapping sound. "It looks like they're done," he commented, pushing away from the wall to follow the couple that had headed through the now-open door.

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