Night 49: Mail Room

[human_sponge]

[From here.]Subsequently, the two fell rather than walked into their next room. Peter gasped for breath, overwhelmed by the sudden temperature change, even if this was far preferable to what they'd just come out of. He ended up half on top of Sam, and had to ditch both his shovel and sack to scramble up and into a sitting position

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[allroadslead]

This wasn't the least dignified entrance Sam had ever had, but it was up there. He hit the floor on his hands and knees, and when Peter fell on top of him a split second later, he just collapsed altogether.

Great.

He rolled over, ignoring the slight pull of stitches. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?"

He pushed himself to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. The slots and burlap sacks gave some pretty clear signs about where they were. He tucked his gun behind his back to free up a hand and swept his flashlight over the room.

Letters. Interesting. If anyone got any letters, it had be fake. Didn't it? That seemed to be the theme. Anyway, it was less of a concern for Sam; he didn't have anyone who would write to him in the first place. Though he was curious about what a letter to him would look like. Say, if it came from his mysterious visitor or something. Jess? She was apparently alive in his little fabricated world, but Christ, he didn't want to think about that. He was just glad she wasn't the one they'd plucked to have visit him.

[human_sponge]

"I'm okay," Peter returned with a nod. That was not an experience he particularly wanted to repeat, but they were out of the refrigerator and untangled from each other, so that was the important thing. Now that that was all taken care of, they had a chance to explore the room

[allroadslead]

Sam moved along the back wall, searching the slots as he went, but they were all empty. He guessed stumbling on a letter for one of the staff was too much to ask for. "Looks like no one loves anyone."

He wondered if they did get mail. The staff, that was. It was hard to get a read on the people who worked here. The nurses and orderlies were hardly cardboard cutouts, but they weren't...there was something off about them regardless. And the doctors-well, Sam's experience with them had been limited to the one. He remembered some of the patients had said their doctors seemed like good people, but even so

[human_sponge]

It was pretty clear that there wasn't much that was helpful here as far as information went, but supplies were another story. Well, there was just one thing that stood out to Peter, and that was the pair of scissors. While he couldn't envision himself stabbing the monsters here with them, he could use them to cut lengths of bandages and things of that nature. They just seemed like a useful item to have, and so he snatched the pair of them off the table and moved back to his pillowcase, where he carefully placed them inside.

With that done, Peter was finished with the room. He'd have to keep this place in mind. While there was no mail here tonight, maybe there would be in the future. Either way, it was interesting enough to make a note of, even if he had no idea where it actually was.

"Sure thing," he said with a crooked smile. He slung the pillowcase over his shoulder, grabbed up his shovel in the other hand, and then headed back out the door with Sam.

So long as they didn't end up in another refrigerator, he'd be happy.

[its_the_mileage]

[from here]

"What the hell?" Indy burst out, staring around him. From the doorway, his flashlight beam hadn't extended far into the next room, but he could've sworn he saw-- But where they found themselves now was unmistakably--Indy had frequented plenty of these places over the course of his academic career--a mail room. Why the hell would they put the mail room right next to the food counter?

He fumbled for the map again. It didn't take him long to find the "mail room" label, and he didn't like what he saw. "This is supposed to be on the other side of the building," he griped to Dent. "Okay, I take it back. It's more than just a mislabeling." Whoever had made the map was either incompetent or deliberately trying to confuse people.

Well, at least there was only the one door. It wouldn't be hard to retrace their steps and either try one of the other doors in the last hall or try the lab area, where Indy knew where things were.

[unheroed]

While Harvey had been glad that Jones had taken it upon himself to break the lock open (he didn't need to be bending his metal pipe even further out of shape for something so pointless), his mood swung around when they stepped not into a kitchen, but into some kind of mail room. He nodded to Jones, brow set in a deep, annoyed frown. At least both of them were in the same boat here. And why did he keep feeling this weird sense of vertigo whenever he walked through a door?

It seemed that their maps had been made by the same misguided (or malicious) person, since when Harvey checked his maps, he saw a similar labeling for the mail room. On that note, who even sent mail to this place? It looked like there were enough slots for each patient, but most of them appeared to be empty, which made the whole thing pointless. Another part of the charade, probably.

That wasn't the point, though. "Why the hell would some kind of counter for serving food lead into a place like this?" Harvey had made his way through a decent portion of the building

[its_the_mileage]

Reflexively, Indy found his name and room number among the rows of mail slots. His was empty. No surprise there

[unheroed]

[Posted 'cause I felt like it and didn't know when Zalia was going to. 8D]It was only after deliberating over it for a while longer that Harvey remembered what Landel had said over the intercom earlier. Something about reconstruction. Was it possible that

[thatdamnedninja]

[From here]

Floor - 3, Yuffie - big fat horrible 0. This was not her lucky day.

Actually, it was the opposite! It sucked. It sucked balls. On a scale of suckitude, it was right up there with Omega. Yup. Tonight Omegasucked, and Yuffie wanted nothing more to do with it. At all. And when she was done being a spluttering, retching-but-not-quite-upchucking pile of miserable super ninja on the floor, she was going to show it who was boss. Somehow. Hadn't quite worked that part out yet.

Yuffie didn't even have the presence of mind to check where they'd ended up. It was warmer; that much she picked up on. The rain was a dull pounding, the thunder was less up close and personal. Sounded like they were back in the institute itself, then.

[notthistrain]

The good news was that they were back in the building, if that could be considered good news. At least there weren't any zombies here. The bad news was that they weren't any closer to making sense of this mess than before. That and the fact that the door hopping was really starting to make Cloud nauseous.

He placed his back to the nearest wall and slid down it until he was sitting. Turning around and going right back through another door was not high on the list of things he wanted to do next. "What do we got, Zack?" the blond asked as he ran a hand through his hair. He'd look around the room himself in a second, once he was sure the contents of his stomach were going to remain there.

Yuffie seemed to be in worse shape than he was, still, so the best idea was probably just to sit for a while. They weren't getting anywhere just walking through doors. Well, no. They were getting everywhere, but no place that could help them.

[zack_fair]

The idea of Landel and Hojo making some happy couple as they vacationed with a trio of kids was actually more nausea-inducing for him than moving between the doors. Zack was just glad that they'd decided to go somewhere new instead of standing around and discussing that subject at length

[thatdamnedninja]

"I've never had mail," Yuffie groaned. "Is there anythin'-urp-in the s-slots?"

She'd been there almost a whole twenty days running now, and not once had she seen even a single scrap of a letter. Thinking about it now, the only way that made sense was if the dudes at the wheel were intentionally jamming up the system.

The young ninja decided that, for now at least, keeping a lid on dinner also meant keeping a lid on her theory. Her every motion exuding misery and longsuffering, Yuffie hauled herself and her shuriken over to join Cloud at his spot against the wall. He didn't look like he was ready to stay down for long, so instead of trying her luck by falling against him in a puddly pile of icky-grossness feeling ninja, she just barely brushed his arm. They could figure it out. She could do her part by hanging out right where she was and not blowing chunks.

Sounded like a pretty sweet deal to her.

[tiny_chef]

[From here.]

The next room was weird, and Remy didn't understand it. The numerous supplies -- things he was familiar with, like scissors and pens, and weird things like the platform with the handle at one end -- made it clear that it was some kind of work area, but he wasn't sure what kind. From the smell, though, it was obvious they were still in the Institute.

He turned to the Scarecrow and Kibitoshin. "This is better, but not much."

If he kept feeling sick from walking through doors, it wouldn't matter if they ever found a kitchen anyway. He thought he might not be able to stomach food. That would just be perfect -- finally finding the kitchen and not eating a thing.

[scarefaux]

From the dimming light of his flashlight, the Scarecrow couldn't see far into the room, but what he could see through his spinning vision didn't seem dangerous: papers and writing utensils, walls with various shelves and slots, a carpeted floor that looked more and more inviting by the second. Rubbing his eyes again, he took a seat a few steps from the door, taking a moment to let his head settle.

"I'm starting to think all this magic we're going through can't be good for us," he said tiredly. It was a lot easier to deal with enchantments when made of straw.

[bitpartgod]

Kibitoshin wasn't sure he wanted to leave those cabinets without knowing what kind kind of files were in them, but it was as if the Great Portal God heard his hesitation, because the very next room they walked into was absolutely full of paper and cabinets.

Unfortunately, Kibitoshin didn't really feel like exploring anymore. "Urgh. It really isn't nice," he agreed, leaning against the doorframe and rubbing his head anxiously. "Maybe we should rest for a while. Or- or try and find a room with chairs to rest in. Where are we trying to get to, anyway? The kitchen, still?"

[tiny_chef]

"I thought so," Remy grumbled. "I'm not even sure the kitchen really exists. Honey baked a cake there, but some of the people here are supposed to be crazy, so that might not mean anything. Maybe they bring in the food from somewhere else and just lie to us about it."

He sighed, then shrugged. "I think Kibitoshin is right. Any room that has a place to rest would be fine with me."

[whichwayagain]

[ From here]

That they hadn't ended up in the rain counted toward the positive, but a quick survey of the room didn't reveal much of use, either. The few letters that were visible made it clear that this room served as some sort of postal office, but Mihai wasn't exactly expecting any mail. Sure, the last letter he'd gotten had changed his life, sometimes for better, sometimes for worst. But given how things had gone lately, Mihai was good with a lack of upheaval.

"The mediocre luck returns." Mihai turned to Reeve, and also to the door. "Unless you're expecting a package, I doubt there's any good staying here." Still, it never hurt to check. And speaking of, Mihai patted the outside of his pocket. Now he had a reason to be in good spirits--and later, to indulge in them. The minibottles were still there, safe and sound. Clearly the night wouldn't be a complete waste.

[simplemechanics]

Reeve had never been much of a gambling man. Or to the least, it was what he had always told others, as well as himself. He preferred odds that he could see, control and predict. This was allowed him to plan, and gave him a probably result he could lean on. Facts, figures and physics made up his world. It was more practical than tossing caution to the wind and hoping that it all worked out somehow.

And yet, Reeve's life had involved increasingly slimmer odds as time went on. He would never have admitted it, but there was often more feel and believe to his engineering than calculation. Maybe there was a part of him that enjoyed it, a part that felt the adrenaline from a good risk or gamble. And if there was, it had surely been passed on to Cait Sith.

"No, there's nothing useful here," he agreed, and gave Mihai a smile that was more relaxed than before. He hoped he would be as lucky as his creation was with all his fortunes and dice. "Let's roll again."

[simplemechanics]

[To here.]