Yuffie collected the stick - she really couldn't bring herself to call it a staff - and double checked her weapons. Everything that she didn't need was shoved into her desk drawer and locked; journal and flashlight included. The half-eaten cake and barely touched dinner was left on her desk, sad and forlorn and unfortunately not being worn by her roommate.
She couldn't wait to get out. That shift had been awkward. It'd also put a dampener on her formerly sunny disposition, but she could shake off the irritability -- she was getting a weapon! Her weapon! Her real, honest to Leviathan, shuriken! Sure, it was the least powerful out of her arsenal back home, and having the Conformer at hand in a place like this would have been a godsend, but it was better than nothing. Yuffie could complain about a lot of things, normally, but this -- this, it was too awesome for words
( ... )
Once she reached the last hallway on the other side of this block, Yukari ceased her steps to take a moment for herself. Why did Falis always, always have to be so ... so ... Dammit, she really hated this place!
In one final way to vent her frustrations, Yukari slammed the side of a clentched hand against the wall-- and instantly regretted it, that hurt more than she had anticipated-- leaving it there as she let out a heavy breath. There. This was done, finished, gone and over with, and whenever Ken found out the same news he had better not mention this topic again.
But most of all, Yukari was just glad that meant things would be looking up, and she prayed she would never have to deal with something like this again.
-- Right, she had to be somewhere.
It wasn't too far down the hall before Yukari saw a girl standing outside, one she assumed had to be who she was looking for since she was standing right outside the designated door.
"Yuffie, right?" Yukari started tentatively, as casually as she possibly could after
( ... )
The night was already starting to pick up, and they were barely even in. Yuffie looked up at the sound of footsteps, and pushed away from the wall at the sound of her name. "Right on time!" She greeted. "I was just starting to get bored. Hey, d'you want some candy?" There was a pause as the ninja sized up her travelling companion, in a casual glance. A small grin lit her face. Short skirts were a familiar sight, and one she wasn't gonna linger on, but all the same... "Actually, never mind, you already look like a truck-full of candyfloss exploded all over you."
Yukari had opened her mouth to answer her first question, because as silly and childish as it had sounded aloud, if there was going to be one highlight this night would allow her, it probably would end up being a piece or chocolate. Or whatever it was Yuffie said she had earlier. Whatever, it didn't matter, something sweet was just that no matter what form it took.
But then, of course, she had to end off on a comment like that; Yukari could only roll her eyes indignantly in response. "It's better than those uniforms they give us." So much better, if she had anything to say about it.
Misa blinked up at the intercom, a little confused. She'd been warned, of course, about what happened here at night. That didn't make it any less worrisome, though, as she got her things together. But...she hadn't expected things to be quite so scary.
Misa took a long, deep breath. I've met shinigami and I've seen scary movies and I've seen the police go mad over things that I've done. I've got to be strong, right? So. You're an actress, Misa. Just...act like it's a scary movie you've been cast in. You'll be fine.
With that thought firmly in mind, she opened the door and stepped out.
Kagura hoped her new roommate would do alright. She'd gone through a lot of them recently and she really didn't want to think about where they might be or what might have happened to them. She picked up the staff from Alita and her flashlight and headed out the door.
The intercom - that was the cue. Soma straightened, some tiny part of her wondering what the Head Doctor meant by a 'game' - but really, that didn't concern her. She had a mission tonight, and she needed to focus on it.
She grabbed her flashlight and the spear she had received the previous night, barely giving anything else a second glance. She didn't want to be weighed down, and anything else she took ran a risk of being ruined in the river crossing.
With one last nod at Mele and a quiet, awkward, "Good luck tonight," Soma departed.
"Well, sounds like it's time for me to get going," Taura said, as the intercom cut into her dinner conversation.
She moved quickly, searching the room for anything she'd need. The journal she folded and crammed into a pocket, along with a couple of pens, while she looked over the contents of the closet. Aside from the shoes, there was little worth adding to the sweats she was wearing. They weren't quite Dendarii grey, and they offered little protection against hostilities, but at least they were soft against her skin and they didn't restrain movement.
The last thing she needed was the flashlight, which turned out to be under her pillow, of all places. She nodded to Rangiku and opened the door.
The hallway looked smaller, in the dark, and she turned on the flashlight. The only living things around seemed to be other patients, none of whom seemed to be trying too hard to hide their movements. So neither would she, and she set off down the hallway in long, loping strides.
Yomi’s hair was still damp when she left F7 behind her, back in the same gear of the night before.
A game would be more welcome than this never-ending farce, so she found herself hoping the abrupt end to the announcement meant good things in that regard. She wouldn’t complain if things livened up, even if it looked like she wouldn’t benefit from the weapon makers present for days yet. She’d take an enhanced threat, unarmed, if it meant some answers.
But in the mean time, piddling around was not going to get her either answers or relief from the place’s power repression
( ... )
Comments 125
Yuffie collected the stick - she really couldn't bring herself to call it a staff - and double checked her weapons. Everything that she didn't need was shoved into her desk drawer and locked; journal and flashlight included. The half-eaten cake and barely touched dinner was left on her desk, sad and forlorn and unfortunately not being worn by her roommate.
She couldn't wait to get out. That shift had been awkward. It'd also put a dampener on her formerly sunny disposition, but she could shake off the irritability -- she was getting a weapon! Her weapon! Her real, honest to Leviathan, shuriken! Sure, it was the least powerful out of her arsenal back home, and having the Conformer at hand in a place like this would have been a godsend, but it was better than nothing. Yuffie could complain about a lot of things, normally, but this -- this, it was too awesome for words ( ... )
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Once she reached the last hallway on the other side of this block, Yukari ceased her steps to take a moment for herself. Why did Falis always, always have to be so ... so ... Dammit, she really hated this place!
In one final way to vent her frustrations, Yukari slammed the side of a clentched hand against the wall-- and instantly regretted it, that hurt more than she had anticipated-- leaving it there as she let out a heavy breath. There. This was done, finished, gone and over with, and whenever Ken found out the same news he had better not mention this topic again.
But most of all, Yukari was just glad that meant things would be looking up, and she prayed she would never have to deal with something like this again.
-- Right, she had to be somewhere.
It wasn't too far down the hall before Yukari saw a girl standing outside, one she assumed had to be who she was looking for since she was standing right outside the designated door.
"Yuffie, right?" Yukari started tentatively, as casually as she possibly could after ( ... )
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But then, of course, she had to end off on a comment like that; Yukari could only roll her eyes indignantly in response. "It's better than those uniforms they give us." So much better, if she had anything to say about it.
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Misa took a long, deep breath. I've met shinigami and I've seen scary movies and I've seen the police go mad over things that I've done. I've got to be strong, right? So. You're an actress, Misa. Just...act like it's a scary movie you've been cast in. You'll be fine.
With that thought firmly in mind, she opened the door and stepped out.
[to here]
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[[to here]]
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She grabbed her flashlight and the spear she had received the previous night, barely giving anything else a second glance. She didn't want to be weighed down, and anything else she took ran a risk of being ruined in the river crossing.
With one last nod at Mele and a quiet, awkward, "Good luck tonight," Soma departed.
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She moved quickly, searching the room for anything she'd need. The journal she folded and crammed into a pocket, along with a couple of pens, while she looked over the contents of the closet. Aside from the shoes, there was little worth adding to the sweats she was wearing. They weren't quite Dendarii grey, and they offered little protection against hostilities, but at least they were soft against her skin and they didn't restrain movement.
The last thing she needed was the flashlight, which turned out to be under her pillow, of all places. She nodded to Rangiku and opened the door.
The hallway looked smaller, in the dark, and she turned on the flashlight. The only living things around seemed to be other patients, none of whom seemed to be trying too hard to hide their movements. So neither would she, and she set off down the hallway in long, loping strides.
[to here]
Reply
A game would be more welcome than this never-ending farce, so she found herself hoping the abrupt end to the announcement meant good things in that regard. She wouldn’t complain if things livened up, even if it looked like she wouldn’t benefit from the weapon makers present for days yet. She’d take an enhanced threat, unarmed, if it meant some answers.
But in the mean time, piddling around was not going to get her either answers or relief from the place’s power repression ( ... )
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