Nightshift 39: M41-M50 Hallway

[scalyfishman]

Dinner had been refreshingly quiet after the roar of the music room- apparently Matsuda was sleeping this one out- but even with room to reflect, Depth Charge still found himself at a loss. For one thing, he hadn’t made any plans. For another, he’d dropped his slagging flashlight and bat last night. Three minor issues that, while not exactly

Comments

[byname_bynature]

[Currently in M47]

Artemis continued to hold Haku in the silence that followed each announcement, trying very hard not to break his jaw when he heard Landel's snoring. At least have the decency to act evil--even if it required a cup of coffee.

He turned his attentions back to Haku, gently stroking his cheek. "Badou will be here soon."

[faithful_frost]

Haku blinked at the sound of snores. Really? Snoring? How stupid.

He smiled up at Artemis and moved to pull back slightly. "Company," he teased. "And me without anything to wear."

[byname_bynature]

Artemis laughed lightly, nuzzling Haku's cheek. "You look beautiful, he'll be impressed no matter what."

...more due to the lighter than Haku's appearance, most likely.

[faithful_frost]

"Thank you, but you're biased, I think." He pressed a kiss to Artemis's cheek and sat up a bit straighter, combing his fingers through his hair, planning on pulling it back into a braid.

If he was going to be meeting a stranger (and possibly trading with him), he wanted to at least pretend like he was steady.

M49

[never_learns]

Yohji watched the smoke curl towards the ceiling as he took another drag of his cigarette. He had no plans, nothing to actually do tonight and he wasn't certain, honestly, if he could even be bothered to try to do something constructive. He felt tired. Maybe he'd just finish his smoke and then roll over and go to sleep. It would probably be about as productive as anything else that he could do.

He brought the cigarette to his lips again, taking a long drag and then blowing out the smoke, letting it trail into the room. Maybe he should go and find Ken. Maybe not. He knew his friend's room by now, but he might have gone by the time Yohji got there. A wasted trip. Ugh. He'd finish his cigarette and then decide. Small choices shouldn't be so damn difficult.

Re: M49

[never_learns]

Finally the cigarette burned down to the filter and Yohji sighed softly as he stubbed it out against the wall. It left a dark scorched mark on the plaster but why should he care? He was certain that come morning it would be gone, replaced once more with pristine white paint. Had no-one ever considered that the perfection of the place was odd in itself. No mental hospital would be so clean all the time, no mental hospital would be so undamaged. Then again, it wasn't as though there were ever any outside inspectors, or he doubted it anyway.

Much as he would quite like to just sit there and smoke the rest of the goddamned pack, he should go and find Ken. After last night, he was even more worried that his friend would end up doing something dangerous.

He grabbed the knife from beneath his mattress and stood up, stretching slightly to get rid of the stiffness in his muscles. It wouldn't be too far to walk and he could head off if it turned out that Ken wasn't there.

[To here]

M44

[full_score]

It was safe to say that this had been among Claude's weirder days in the Institute (which was saying a lot, really), but this was just the icing on the cake. Was the Head Doctor seriously snoring? He wasn't sure whether to find it funny or just plain irritating. This was the man who held the keys to getting out of this place, and there he was, sitting asleep, with no one able to use it to their advantage

M44

[razing_phoenix]

[From here.]

When all was said and done, it hadn't taken that long, and Guy did his best not to worry about the juice as he reached Claude's door. He knew his friend would understand that some of it had been lost in the transport, and there wasn't much else that could be said about that.

Right now, the bigger problem was that he had no way of knocking on the door, or even opening it (which he wouldn't have done even if he could since he remembered the way Claude had reacted to Dias barging in last night). He could have set down his flashlight so that he could knock, but that seemed like way too much effort -- and way too risky, when he'd already spilled who knew how much of the juice.

There was another way to go about this, of course. "Hey, Claude?" he called out, making sure to raise his voice so that it would carry through the door. "I'm here." Claude would understand why he hadn't just knocked once he opened the door, he figured.

M44

[full_score]

Claude perked up a little once he heard Guy's voice. He almost just told him the door was open, but then he got up from his seat and walked over to the door. Once he opened it, it became apparent why his friend had just called out for him -- between the flashlight, Ashton's sword, and the bag of stuff Guy was carrying, it was a wonder he was able to make it in the first place!

"Oh, wow!" he said as he moved in a little closer. "Here, let me take something from you." Claude smiled a little guiltily. "Sorry, I should have realized your hands were going to be so full."

Maybe it would have been better to meet in Guy's room, but it was a bit late for that now. This was probably something to keep in mind the next time they set up a meeting spot, though.

M44

[razing_phoenix]

"Haha, thanks," Guy said, quickly extending his hand forward so that he could offer the hilt of Ashton's sword to his friend. Once he'd been relinquished of it, he moved into the room (though he wasn't able to close the door behind him), heading for the bed that he knew was Claude's so that he could set everything down. The flashlight went first, freeing up that hand so that he could focus on carefully settling the pillowcase.

"I think some of the juice may have spilled," he explained, tone somewhat apologetic. In fact, it was probably seeping from the pillowcase onto Claude's sheets now, but Guy didn't think it mattered since everything would be back to normal when morning came.

He carefully opened the bag and first pulled out the artifact, which had gotten some juice on it as well. Sighing, he wiped it off on the bed and then put it down before easing the pitcher of juice out. "There's still a good amount left," he said thankfully.

M43

[k4t4str0ph4l]

Schuldig grinned to himself as he exited his room. He'd been looking forward to this all day; after all, regardless of what he went to Crawford's room for, or what he got out of it, he could still flaunt the fact that he actually had decent clothes to wear while Crawford was stuck with a smiley-face shirt.

The look on Crawford's face alone would be worth trekking halfway across the institute for, really.

[To here.]

[purpletaint]

The doors had opened but Albedo hadn't moved for a while.

His mind had become a new sort of fractured, caught inbetween his own wants and desires. There was a part of him that had some kind of happiness, small as it may be, overwhelming as it could be, from the kindness of strangers. Of an empty plate and a full notebook. And that made him hesitate.

Albedo knew that that was nothing. Knew in his heart of hearts (his heart, or Rubedo's heart?) that those things couldn't stand up to his pain and his hatred (his love and his loss), and for that, he was sorrowful. For that, he faltered for a moment, and wished that it was enough. That it could be enough.

The dull echo, twin heartbeats pulsating inside his chest, made what actually mattered hard to ignore. The boy felt very tired. He just wanted to sleep.

Agitated by indecision, he found himself rubbing his fingers together, and looked down at them. He remembered last night, and he remembered this afternoon--the blood that fell that shouldn't have, the delay in his regeneration.

[purpletaint]

[to here]