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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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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thump
thump
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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There were far too many thoughts running rampant inside Ichigo's head at the moment for him to focus. Plenty of conflicting feelings, of courage and common sense, fear and determination, with a small side of confusion thrown in for good measure. With his mind on complete overload, he simply couldn't comprehend anything other than where his next footstep would be landing.
Weird, because I don't remember seeing any of that stuff in here before...
Just as these ideas were running about, Ichigo was still running at the moment as well, only thinking of escape, and his sureness and speed had carried him directly past the blonde porcupine, who was...running in the opposite direction?
Wait, WHAT?
As hard as he could, Ichigo dug in his heels and slowly came to a stop on the slippery tiles. He was finally able to concentrate, and everything he had been thinking of before suddenly came crashing in. Some silly group of unfamiliar faces, all of them likely too new to know better, was actually trying to tackle this beastly figure with cookingware.
"Cliff, don't let them get close to that...thing? Cliff!?"
Cliff would undoubtedly choose to ignore his advice, having instead opted to try and fight the monster again. Ichigo huffed sharply in frustration, then charged right back in as well.
Pumping his legs furiously, Ichigo ran straight up the middle, then leapt nimbly off to the side when the creature took its first crushing swing. Strangely, though, he didn't stop and try to set up some light and ineffective attack when he approached it. He kept right on running, putting all his weight and all his momentum into one anger-fueled push by bracing his hands upward and shoving together on either sides of the triangle-shaped helmet's closest tip.
"HaaaaaaaaAH!" Ichigo yelled out, using his voice to further stoke the flames of his efforts. The boy's entire body, every inch of lean, sinewy muscle, was flexed and looked ready to tear apart by the tension. Ichigo was doing everything in his power to use the humongous weight of that massive helmet against the creature and (hopefully!) push it straight back off balance.
There was no way he could do it by himself, though...
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He saw Cliff shouting that the creature shouldn't be underestimated, only to attempt giving the creature a kick at the back of the creature's knees. If Cliff would fail for some reason, he was within reach of the creature's hands. And who knew what would happen. Albel actually wanted to have a conversation with the ape later on, perhaps he knew more of the things going on here. But for that, he was needed alive. Albel refused to admit he was actually relieved to see a familiar face, no, it was because Cliff was the most likely person to supply him with information. Yes, that's what it was. He? Albel the Wicked? Relieved to see Cliff? Yeah right! Like he would waste his time and energy with such trivial matters.
Albel looked around for something, anything he could use. He grabbed a chair. Not the most genius weapon, but anything was better then that metal pot or a frying pan. Things would be easier if the warrior only had the Crimson Scourge with him, but he didn't and he had no clue what happened to the litteraly cursed sword. He briefly wondered if one person was foolish enough to try and wield it and would face the consequences, but it wasn't the time or place to be thinking of such matters.
No, he was going to fight some monster, who was a disturbing sight to behold on itself, with a chair and a flashlight. The most sad excuse of weapons he had ever wielded.
Seeing the details of the room, the creature was defenitely strong. Along with it's size, it would be logical if the creature wasn't very fast. But then again, these were strange circumstances, and Albel wasn't about to be caught off guard by sudden unexpected speed. But according to Albel's logic, the creature had to have a weakness.
Albel lived for the battlefield, but that didn't mean he was stupid.
'Fine, maggot, let's see what you're made of...' he thought.
With that, he sprinted to the monster with chair in hand.
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His reaction time was a few beats off to what was happenig around him. This related more to the chaos of the situation than his own capabilities of responding. (Or so, he would like to hope. After all, it was hardly the best of times for his Geostigma to start acting up.) First, to the voice telling him not to underestimate the triangle-headed creature, he responded something overly cocky like, "I've dealt with worst!" Honestly, he wasn't quite sure what he had yelled back, just let some words come tumbling out that felt right. Second, to watch orange hair ran ahead to dodge the swing (a swing, which range was almost surprisingly wide and almost clipped Cloud in the head, before he could duck out of harm's way) before watching him try to push it off balance.
"Good idea!" He let the metal pot swing out of his hands upwards at the helmet (?), away from the other's hands. (Could he really still call it a creature? It looked like a human to him, despite the oddity of its appearance. Like, one of those from the mako reactors that Zack had told him about.) It hardly did any damage, just made a resounding clang of metal hitting metal before clunking off to the ground. That was not particularly reassuring, but still he barrelled on forwards to help.
Hands set in the same position as the other's as he joined in in trying to push it off balance. An almost answering yell as he too felt additional strength come from his own voice. Something this heavy, it would take awhile to try to get back up. Yes, Cloud was stating the obvious, but thankfully it was in his own head. Not like he had much breathe to spare for needless comments. His body brushed off the ramblings inside to continue to move forward, straining as it did so. If he could, he would have launched some order to Barret to help out too, but hopefully, the man would join in regardless -- just like he did when Cloud joined in this insane battle.
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So...throwing stuff?
Not much of an option.
Actually, what he needed was Rude. Rude could whip up a bomb out of anything. Besides, it was odd to be in battle without the eternally silent man. He’d done it before, of course, but even then, they were usually in some form of communication. He was too used to having his partner right at his back, Elena and Tseng not far behind.
He could really use Elena’s prowess with any sort of firearm, too.
But instead, he was watching Cloud and some other kid with hair the colour of carrots try to push this damned monster off balance. What was even more ridiculous was that it was probably the best plan they all had. Aside from getting the hell away, that was. Strife was too goddamned heroically idiotic to do that, though, and Reno’s pride wasn’t going to take fleeing while the other stayed.
Beyond fucking sad, this.
Reno sighed and sprinted forward to pitch in, nearly tripping over-something. He didn’t even pay attention as to what it was, only cursed loudly.
He slid in right next to Cloud. And pushed. Brute strength was hardly his fine point, but it was something. The flashlight, shining end pointed backwards, dug into the palm of his left hand. It occurred to him that if the thing broke, he’d be so completely screwed.
So much for not getting close.
At least he did possess the ability to run away really fast should things go even more wrong.
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Looking to the others choice of attacks, he noticed they all came to a common, silent goal--tip the mother fucker over. As insane as it seemed and sounded, it appeared to be their only chance.
He took brief notice of the others, but the flaming head of a lanky Turk caught his immediate attention. His efforts to aid the situation were perhaps noble worthy, even for a Turk, but his lack of strength and close proximity to the being left him an open target for a whoopin'. In any normal circumstance, Barret might have been content to watch the Shin-Ra employee take a brutal bruising. However, if they had any chance of survival, all able bodies would most definitely be required. He knew with his next action, if they did not succeed, Barret was placing himself directly in the line of fire.
With that lingering thought in mind, Wallace gripped the steak knife within his left hand, and charged forward with a primal yell, coming up behind Reno to tower behind him and add to his brute strength with his own. The left hand motioned to slice the blade through the flesh of the beast, while he used every muscle capable to thrust his energy to aid in the toppling process.
One thing was for sure--if they got out of this alive, he was going to kill Cloud.
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