Night 52: M41-M50 Hallway

[full_score]

((From M44.))His dinner had probably been one of the more uneventful ones in awhile, but that suited Claude just fine. After hearing about his father's release and running into his mother today, he had a lot on his mind. And that wasn't even touching on all the after effects of his sleep studies that he knew would probably follow him for a long

Comments

[hes_deadjim]

Uhura? So she was here too? When had that happened?

And which one was she? From the Enterprise he knew or from where Spock and Jim came from? McCoy suspected it was the latter, if only because of that strange comment Jim had directed at Spock on the bulletin. The Spock and Uhura he knew got along well, even practiced music together, but there had been something different about the way Jim had mentioned talking to her.

McCoy mulled it over, but didn't come up with anything that made sense. It almost sounded like personal, but McCoy couldn't imagine him involved with anyone romantically, namely because Vulcans were about as romantic as a block of ice. Obviously Vulcans did get together, but if that deal with T'pring was anything to go by, it was decided on a basis of logical choice. Spock was about as Vulcan as one could get.

But maybeMaybe when hell froze over first. McCoy just shook his head. He unfolded the partial map. He had his orders for the night, which was to continue the investigation of the second floor. The morgue was

[hes_deadjim]

[to here]

[tsunagari]

[from here]

Sai stopped outside the door to M47 and knocked. He was unsurprised when no one answered, but still he knocked again, this time telling whoever might be able to hear him who he was and that he'd arrived. There was still nothing, and after a minute or so more of waiting, the ninja opened the door to peek inside.

Nothing.

The room was empty, the beds made and the place tidied as if no one was staying in there at all. It wasn't just Artemis who'd been released, but Haku as well. Everyone was vanishing, and he'd never truly gotten to help the boy. It was incredibly discouraging, but he'd dwell on it later. Now he had more important things to worry about, such as whether more of his comrades had gone the same way his roommate and these two had. He had to find Naruto.

The empty room was left behind as Sai made for the main hallway at full speed.

[to here]

M49 -> M50

[anemptydecapo]

Dinner was spent without a word shared once again, the assassin's attention too scattered to focus on any sort of discussion. He had stayed on his bed, legs curled against his chest and shoulders hunched as he alternated between braving what bit of food he could manage, accessing his plans for the night, pushing aside the guilt from the night before, and staring emptily at the photos he'd been given of a life that wasn't his. After he eventually pushed aside his tray, he'd gotten dressed, reclaimed the ring from the night before (they never did get the chance to test it out), and waited for the doors to unlock before heading out into the hall.

It was disturbing how quickly this was turning into clockwork for him--get up, get dressed, try to make progress, fall asleep, get up, repeat it all over again. Growing used to these restraints, to being weakened and at a disadvantage. Used to being disrespected, under-appreciated (if at all), scorned...

Hmph. Don't think that way.He had business to attend to and he needed to make whatever

just popping next door for a game of death pool, won't be long

[herr_inspektor]

While they hadn't managed much in the way of actual discussion, Lunge hoped that he'd left Dent with enough food for thought that they'd be able to exchange a few more ideas by their next shift together. Still there came that vague but unshakeable feeling of faithlessness (you're not married to L, Heinrich. Don't be so dramatic), but it seemed to become slightly more bearable in light of the fact that he would be seeing the man later that night.

If you couldn't see it I'd have had to dismiss you from the investigation, L.

Funny. He'd only barely been joking, back then.

Flashlight in his right hand, radio in his pocket with the hunting knife (still stained), pool cue in his free hand: check

I guess you can say this pool... is adults only.

[anemptydecapo]

He took the outstretched cue into his left hand, immediately recalling how the weapon had been stolen from his grip just before Edward's idiotic suicide attack. Had the detective actually run back into those flames to retrieve it

YEAAAAAAAAAH /shades

[herr_inspektor]

It was probably fortunate that starting a conversation hadn't been Lunge's primary aim. Venom couldn't get away from the question fast enough. Still, that alone was enough to reaffirm his thought that the man had been hiding before- didn't like to be reminded that he was a little more out in the open now, did he? He hadn't even referred to it directly and he'd still managed to break that pokerface.

The matter was worth noting for later, when they spoke next (you don't seem like the type to lie- your previous greeting was about custom and diplomacy- so what is it you're concealing?), but Venom wasn't the only one with places to be. L was likely waiting with their third partner for the night, and it wouldn't have done at all to keep them waiting. Not out of a real burning desire to be punctual, that was- Lunge had the feeling that L would probably be the type to leave without him rather than sit and wait all night. That, or perhaps come looking for him if he was feeling generous

[gamingsostfu]

With a very quiet cough, Matt sat up in the bed, shoving the blankets slowly away from him and turning over, pressing his face into the cooler side of the pillow. Everything was silent now, and so dark... It was almost like he could fade right into it...

He bolted upright in the bed, wincing at the pressure on his legs, the sudden change in weight distribution. He wasn't at all expecting it, and it was a definite shock to his battered system - much like a bucket of cold water dumped on him. He'd been lulled into a deeper sleep than he'd known in years- ever since that warmth that occupied his room back at Wammy's disappeared, and he'd known, even then, young and naive as he was, that it would never be coming back. Not until Mello proved himself to Near and the rest of the world

[gamingsostfu]

Matty, why can't you believe that?

He slammed the sole of the boot down on the floor, his left hand lashing outward as he stepped forward; reaching the desk, his right hand grabbed onto the edge of it just as his other backhanded the radio, sending the shoddy piece of electronic flying into the closed closet door. "Because you left, you senseless twat!" he cried out, face turning a bright red as his knuckles went white. "Because you left, and all that happened when you came back was that I died! And it wasn't like you said- Nothing was ever like you said it'd be!Panting hard, Matt fell against the desk, his eyes and mouth both miraculously dry. He gave himself a moment before letting those eyes fade from his memory, squashing that voice down to where it belonged- in a time that could never come again

[osreborn]

When he'd been brought back to his room (M41), the first thing Norman did was practically tear it apart, seeking anything that could provide him with more insight to this place. He looked for cameras, for mirrors, for ducts that chemicals could be put through.

The door wasn't locked, but he didn't go for it immediately. He kept searching the room.

He did find a flashlight, which he held at his side like a weapon. He also found batteries, which he pocketed just in case. Pens and keys, which he pocketed as well. Those could be used as weapons in a pinch. He was surprised the patients had free access to them. But that would hold, he supposed, if this really were not a real asylum.

Armed, he opened the door, curious.

[To here.]