Nightshift 19 - Cafeteria/Kitchen
The Cafeteria followed the same track record as all the other rooms, quiet and seemingly harmless at first glance. Cliff wasn't sure if he should be relived or disappointed so far that he hadn't noticed anything moving in the shadows. Even the tables and chairs had been arranged neatly for the night as if nothing in the world could be wrong and
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Pyramid Head took yet another step into the room, the sword dragging behind it so heavy that it left a trail (and sparks) in the floor. It was still burning, but the flames were flickering and sputtering; either whatever the apron was made out of didn't burn well, or whatever the apron was covered in was flame-resistant. (But if the stains were really what they looked like - dark reddish-brown and fresh bright red and old yellow - then wouldn't they burn just as well? Didn't it burn if it was dry ... ?) His legs stopped burning after a while, mottled flesh darkening and peeling, then falling off.
SCREEEEECH thump
The blade flew over the counter and lodged itself in Pyramid Head's apron-covered stomach; it tore through the fabric and bit into the covered skin. He jerked to a halt, almost flinching (wincing? flying back?); the blade flamed to life, just for a few moments, and then died down again. The apron caught, though, and he was forced to stop again, using his free hand to knock free the knife and try to smother the flames.
Then he paused.
Gripped his blade with both hands.
Hauled it up over his shoulder.
And brought it crashing down into the counter directly between the two men.
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The knife hadn't even distracted it long enough for them to move, but as it paused in its place Cliff inched closer to the side he would be going from. He hated running. But if that was all the effect his so-called weapon had on monsters, he shouldn't have bothered with it to begin with. Too bad for that.
He couldn't seem to break the silence that followed to answer Kurosaki's question. When the knife finally came crashing down it was like the starter pistol from hell. "Go!"
Cliff scrambled to his feet, vaulting over what was left of the counter to make his dash for the door. Yeah, think of it as living to fight another day.
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There's a big difference between facing up to a bully, and letting a frickin' streamroller pass by! he swore to himself, pushing himself off of the floor in a crouched runner's start.
Behind him, once he began to move, a shower of shattered wood, in all shapes and broken sizes, came raining down. Ichigo raised his arms and covered his head for a moment, then let them freely pump from front to back while he picked up speed. As sharply as he could, he turned the length of the counter, but the kitchen tiles were soft and slippery, nearly causing him to loose his footing and take a nasty dive. All he could do was use what little was left of his powers to gain traction off of what little energy in the air he could find. From there, he was able to take off like a shot, rapidly gaining for the door.
There was no time to even look back and see how close of a shave his escape had been. The creature could have been two paces or twenty feet behind him, for all he cared; Ichigo was going to keep moving! Quickly, he slipped through the door only a step or two ahead of Cliff, then continued on through the cafeteria.
"You better still be right behind me!" was all he would call out, finally sparing a small glance over his shoulder, just in case Cliff's luck had not held out.
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Unlike before, however, he was now much faster. Possibly because he was no longer dragging the sword behind him, Pyramid Head could now take full, unburdened steps, and for each step he took it was nearly equal to a sprint made by either of the two men. His hands raised, spasming and twitching even as flesh scattered off them (the flames had not been kind to him), as if aiming to sieze the men from behind and drag them back into the kitchen.
thump
thump
thump
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"Considering my options?!" Cliff called back, sparing a glance over his own shoulder. If he thought he could spare the breath, he would have sworn. Something that big should not have been as fast as it was. The again, the thing really was some freak perversion.
But the sword was gone. He could pretend that was a good thing. Cliff turned his eyes forward again and kept running. He could already see the door that led into the Sunroom.
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He even took the time to slow down and turn, hoping to see Cliff only a few steps behind, perhaps even smiling about their narrow escape. Ichigo began to grin softly; maybe they'd have a good laugh about this, the kind of bracing joke only fighters like them could really understand.
Yet, as he turned, his smile utterly melted. The creature was still following! Though Ichigo had lost some momentum, he turned and started to run again straight away.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Ichigo still had plenty of wind to swear, his expressions drawn almost comically panicked. Being young and in the best shape of his life certainly helped, as he immediately picked up an even greater pace than before, just praying to put a few more lengths between him and that rampaging giant. "We've gotta figure out some way to get him to stop chasing us! Any ideas!?"
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He wasn't relenting. Even as Cliff darted out after Ichigo, even as Ichigo turned and stopped and turned back and started running again, he didn't even pause for a moment. Pyramid Head continued to stride forward with that surprising, unwanted speed - despite the fact that his feet were burned and blackened, the yellowed skin having peeled away to reveal even more mottled and ugly layers beneath.
As he pursued them, his hands clenched and unclenched, arms extended to their full length in what might have been an attempt to grab whichever one of the men it could. Cliff was closer, but with his pause, Ichigo had put himelf at yet a nearer point. Even without his sword, Pyramid Head made for a formidable figure. To see something so hideous and deformed lumbering after you, unhindered by flame or blade ...
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He made a point of not looking behind him anymore. Even without the knife, he wasn't looking forward to taking on a 7ft steamroller on his current strength. He could hear the steady thump from behind him, getting closer despite his efforts.
He could almost feel those nasty burnt fingers on the back of his neck. Wait. Oh hell no.
Cliff didn't look back. He didn't even think about it. He just poured on more speed than he would have thought his body capable of, fueled completely by adrenaline and whatever remained of his Klausian abilities.
"Just get out of this room!" Monsters had territories, right? Normal monsters, anyway. They only attacked if you got into their space. Though this thing was far from normal and way too human-shaped for his liking, maybe its instincts...
What if it was human? Or just some ex-patient the doctors had gone too far with?
Now isn't the time for a moral dilemma. He told himself firmly, but somewhere in the part of his mind that wasn't dominated primarily by adrenaline, he wondered if maybe it could be reasoned with. Preferably before it reaped some bloody, violent death upon the two of them.
It hadn't made a sound the whole time it was on fire.
Weather he was right or wrong about this whole thing, the best he could hope for was to put the thing out of its misery. Soon. When he was strong enough to face it. But all his mind was telling him to do right now was run, and almost without thinking about it he dragged a chair away from the tables and shoved it back behind him to slow the thing down a little. He'd slowed himself just long enough to make the grab but hopefully it hadn't been for nothing.
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It was amazing to think how a perspective on luck could change so fast. Only weeks ago, Ichigo had hoped his fortune would hold out and see him to a good grade on a Physics test in school. Now, all he could wish for was that this hulking brute in the iron mask would do him a favor and trip on something.
Thrusting his arms furiously, the shingami's sprint would remain unbroken, even despite the slippery surface of the cafeteria's waxed and polished floors. The entrance to the Sun Room was fast approaching, those wide-open doors waiting just a stone's throw away. Ichigo squinted his eagle's eyes briefly, trying to discern through the meager lighting if anyone was unlucky enough to be lurking on the other side.
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There wasn't really an exact science to how he found the kitchen. Rather, he just exited the hallway and headed south. Either they'd run into what he wanted to, they'd just keep running around until he found what he was looking for, or he'd eventually be left on his own because they were sick of his wandering. However, something told him that he wasn't going to be left alone. Not that it was a particularly warming idea to him either.
It was nice for some reason to be in some new area. He took note to the cafeteria and figured that they were close to the kitchen. His conversation with the others as they walked wasn't particularly the best. That was, he wasn't sure what he wanted to say to them. Really, how does someone talk to someone from an alternate time line, or worst the future? At least, the future version of him had been cured. Lucky him. Looks like I'm going to have to suffer until Lifestream decides to cure me as well. He didn't even know if there was a Lifestream where they were. Did that mean I have so long until I eventually die here? What an unpleasant thought.
The ruckus coming from inside the kitchen was not one of the most pleasant of sounds, but it did break his thoughts of his eventual death through disease. He paused, unsure if he should enter or not. However, he didn't look back to gauge the reactions of the others. Wasn't it his job to decide what they should do? Once more, he was going for something that was familiar. No deep breath, no dramatic pause, just walking into the kitchen.
What should have been noted was just how messed up the room appeared, but that really wasn't what he saw first. It was the massive giant with a triangle (?!) for a head and the two people that were apparently fighting it. He counted his lucky stars. At least it isn't Vincent. For some reason, he wasn't quite as frightened as this creature as he was of Vincent. But then, he had seen what Vincent was capable of in battle and through experience -- that is, if that was real. Besides, who could be frightened of something for a triangle for a head?
"Come on, Barret!" He really didn't know what Reno or Rufus would do, but at least he knew he could order Barret to help him. Running into the fray, he picked up the nearest item to him as a weapon -- a metal pot. Not really one of his glorious moments, but it would work for the time being. Honestly, the thought occurred to him that he may just be poking his nose where it didn't belong. But the need to be a hero, to be in familiar territory despite the oddity of the situation, outweighted common sense. Par usual.
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For a moment, all Reno could do was stare stupidly, trying to process all of this information. His attempt to do so completely failed. Sephiroth? Kadaj? Second coming? He almost expected the next words out of Barret’s mouth to be chocobos going at it on motorcycles or something that would equally fuck with his mind.
God, he needed a smoke. Or a drink. Or hell, both.
At least Rufus’s explanation made a little more sense than Barret’s. Or, as much sense as coming from another fucking timeline did. Two didn’t make it back. He knew that-knew it very well, in fact-but, not back at all? There was no time for questions, though, and he found himself not wanting to discuss Tseng and Elena’s fate in front of the two AVALANCHE members.
Fine, dammit. Later.
Cloud led the way, and Reno didn’t mind at all. Strife could take all the responsibility if anything went wrong. He was made for it, anyway, what with his hero-complex.
Something was gnawing at him, though, as he walked along, causing him to be unusually quiet. He ignored it, though, passing it off as the general atmosphere of this place-the whole building was causing alarm bells to go off. It was until he finally caught sound of what was clearly a commotion of sorts that he finally perked up.
Strife didn’t hesitate to enter, but Reno did pause to take that precaution. He couldn’t see anything, though, from outside. Reno sighed and followed Cloud through.
This was a mistake. He knew it was a mistake, and then he saw it was one hell of a very big fucking mistake.
He blinked. Nope, not a hallucination. It was a human-like monster. With a-what the fuck was that? A triangle? For a head? Or on a head? It was impossible to tell. There were already two people fighting it.
And yup-Strife wanted to join in. Beautiful.
Oh, with a metal pot, too. Even better.
Reno felt like shooting himself. Or rather, shooting Strife.
And maybe even himself, because dammit, but he wasn’t going to stand on the sidelines. That’d be, well, boring.
Reno grabbed Rufus and dragged him away from the fray and behind a flipped piece of furniture. He knew Rufus would hate being forced into hiding. He didn’t care. Frankly put, he wouldn’t be able to baby sit and fight at the same time, and it would be really damned stupid for a guy with as demented a head as this to kill the President.
“Stay here. Okay?”
He didn’t wait for a response, moving off into the kitchen and rifling quickly through the cabinets in hopes of finding something better than a metal pot. The best he could come up with in an instant was a frying pan.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. He’d take it.
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But this did. The majority of them being in a different timeline. And how ironic it was that the man he was ready to beat to a pulp was the only one that was possibly from his own timeline. He cast a quick glance to Cloud, and withheld his immediate thoughts, refusing to voice them. It didn't matter what timeline he was from, Cloud was Cloud. His body ridden with Geostigma or not, he was a familiar friendly face, a face he would stick with.
And as they moved through the various hallways with flashlights in hand, Wallace was struck with a sense of deja vu himself. Like how Cloud would lead their party all across Gaia, map in hand, Barret often trailing the party to bring up the rear. He was often the first to cuss Cloud out for directing them in circles for an hour straight, passing the same landscape multiple times only to realize their hero had 'zoned out'. Memories...
He took that familiar spot now, allowing the others ahead of him not out of the need to protect, but the need for some sort of familiarity. He clung to it like a warm blanket, as he did the thought of seeing his daughter once again. He hoped against hope she wasn't in this place as well. The possibility sent a new wave of fury through him, causing him to subconsciously clench the flashlight in his grasp tighter, a third crack reminding him the unit couldn't take much more damage.
Crashing and thudding brought his attention to what was up ahead. The group had halted pace before the entryway to a room unknown to him. He abandoned his post in the rear to move closer to Cloud just as he called his name and disappeared within.
"What the fuck is goi--Oh shit..." the large man cut himself off as his eyes fell upon the reason for the noisy business within. His cranium ache just got larger...
And that stupid asshole Strife was charging at this triangle monster with a METAL FUCKING POT! If he thought Barret was seriously going to storm into battle with an unknown adversary to save some poor saps who already appeared to be having one hell of a time defending themselves....
He was right. But not without a lot of obscenities, "SPIKE, YOU STUPID FUCKING SON OF A FUCKING BITCH! GODDAMMIT WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?" He followed after his ally, coincidentally becoming the most well matched out of the lot of them by abandoning his flashlight for a steak knife he reached for in passing, and a metallic right fist by default (though his gun would have been really helpful right about now).
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Stepping into the kitchen didn’t do much for his sanity. At first, all he could do was stand there stupidly and think ‘What in is that thing?. It hurt the mind to look at it. It seemed as if some cruel creator had smashed an overly large triangle down on some unfortunate creature’s head, the thing looking nearly as large as the creature itself. His mind slowly took in the other details. The far door of the room was destroyed, hanging by bits of wood on hinges. The thing’s body was wearing an apron of some sort, something that looked far too thick to be human. Rufus’ breath came in harsh pants, feeling a bone-deep sickness of fear finally seize him. Fear was something Rufus Shinra was far too unused to experiencing.
His mind could only summon up one thought: Dear gods, what is it?
If it hadn’t been for Reno, he’d probably stood there until the thing reached him. He went easily enough with the Turk, gaze still locked on the thing. Shoved down and out of sight of it, he blinked dumbly a few times before focusing on what the man was saying. Stay here? Surely Reno wasn’t foolish enough to…
Wait, he was talking about Reno.
“Be careful, Reno.”
And then the man was gone, throwing himself into the fray of battle, probably not even hearing him. Rufus contemplated ignoring orders but he knew that if he did that it might cost this Reno his life. He’d already shown loyalty, and there was most likely no way he could fight that thing and defend Rufus. Besides, a flashlight made a piss-poor weapon. The best he could do was watch over the top of the knocked over table.
“Be careful, Reno,” he repeated to himself.
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As Pyramid Head lurched forward, people entered the room - another four. Yet they didn't seem to interest him for the moment; he was apparently more fixated on gripping the back of Cliff's neck (which he nearly did, fingers grazing the skin there for a moment) than on any events going on around him.
But when he didn't get a hold on Cliff, and when the chair flew into his path and forced him to stumble and pause, he seemed to realize what was happening. Slowly, he looked around, helmet turning left and right to see all the figures in the room (but how could he see?). They were charging him, three of them, two still running, one in hiding ...
He stood up straight, reared back, and swept a hand out, ready to smash back the closest charger. Without his sword, it seemed, he was still an utterly ferocious enemy.
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Albel loved battles. It was one of those rare moments when he truly felt alive as the adrenaline flowed through his vains, and the enemies could see the bloodlust in his eyes right before they were slaughtered, their blood a crimson pattern on the floor. The only condition was that the opponent was at least a worthy one in his deadly sworddance, since weaklings bored him easily. People considered him mean, merciless, wicked because of this. It's how he earned his nickname, after all. Outside of battles, he could be threatning, but mostly distant and uninterested. In battle, he came alive.
It was the actual reason he entered this room. There was a battle. The hallways were boring, and things were finnaly starting to get a bit exciting, unarmed or not, he couldn't let this opportunity pass up. If only he had known what he'd get himself into...
As Albel entered this new room, he was quite surpised to see...what was it anyway? He couldn't really decide wether it was man or monster. It's body seemed human, but it's...head...was replaced with, what? Some kind of triangle?? It was nearly as big as the creature itself.
There were other people in this room. One he didn't knew, a few others he recognized as the people he met at the riot - namely the fools that started it. But there was one person he didn't expect to see, one that caught his attention immidiately.
'Cliff?!'
[OOC: sorry for the double post, my commend looked completely fucked up!]
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"Hey! Don't underestimate it!" He shouted, taking note of some of the weapons they'd selected. Even barehanded, going up against something so obviously powerful with some cookware was little more than suicide. He and Kurosaki had been having trouble just keeping a good distance.
The blond man rushing towards it had to be crazy. Which, in turn, would make Cliff just a little worse because he knew what he was facing and turned back anyway. The thing hadn't been far from catching him, but the way it had turned to face their other assailants gave him a small window of opportunity.
He couldn't just leave them to face this thing on their own. On top of that, he and Kurosaki had started this fight. It was too bad none of them could possibly handle the giant sword the creature had left embedded in the kitchen counter, even if they could manage to pull it out.
"Busy!" Cliff responded to his name, already aiming a powerful kick at the back of the creature's knees (hell, it was tall enough). If this didn't work, it put him dangerously close to those peeling, mottled hands and he doubted if he would be able to move fast enough to avoid them.
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