[IN PROGRESS/OPEN]

[dancewithadevil]

WHO: Alucard/toothsomehound, Usopp/longnosedliar, Sam Vimes/stonyfaced, Jessica Sanders/DIVIDEDSANITY, Otacon/justlikeoneofmy, Lauren Reed/dancewithadevil, Ken/artiglio, Zoro/resolute_edge, AND - anyone else who would like to be trapped is welcome to join!
WHAT: BOOM.
WHERE: Guilty Pleasures.
WHEN: Evening.

Comments

SECTOR 1; THE ELEVATOR

[stonyfaced]

Usually, Vimes avoided places like this. The restaurants he went to had severely overweight waitresses named things like 'Maude' where they filled your cup with the bottom of the pot before serving you burnt bacon drenched in grease, rubbery eggs and toast helpfully devoid of any fiber whatsoever. Unfortunately, Dean had given Vimes information that Guilty Pleasures was run by Vescovo, so dutifully, here Vimes was. Checking it out. Not in uniform, because that was like putting a 'Shoot Me' sign on his back, but he had his gun and his badge, and that was enough.

Sickeningly cheerful elevator music tinkled as he rode up to the club. There went the cheesy saxophone ensemble, and oh, some asshole of a sellout was beginning to croon, and...

BOOM.

...That didn't sound like elevator music. Heart racing, Vimes gripped onto the side of the trembling elevator, its cables screeching above them. A piercing scream from outside of the elevator alerted him to the fact that things were exploding. The elevator swayed.

Don't snap. Don't snap. Don't fall. Don't fall. Don't fall.

With an almighty crack, the elevator began plummeting downwards and Vimes was sickly aware of burnt, greasy bacon going up the wrong way. He held onto the sides and shut his eyes, tight.

He knew he should have taken the stairs.

Re: SECTOR 1; THE ELEVATOR

[toothsomehound]

Alucard, leaning against the wall of the elevator, watched his fellow occupants through his lowered lashes. Integra was checking her watch. The man who had just gotten on was impatient-looking.

Integra had decided that they should have a meal, and Alucard, mindful of the fact that he actually didn't know this Hellsing woman that well, had accepted. She had mentioned going to a place where they could discuss business in peace. While Alucard had figured this to be a rather interesting establishment, he hadn't quite anticipated the nature of this establishment. However, he was in the mafia now (his mother would have wept!), and such things, he supposed, were to be expected.

Such things that were NOT to be expected: the restaurant being bombed. His first instinct at hearing the sound of an explosion was to grab the nearest person- in this case Integra- and cover them. The nightmarish feeling of the earth falling from beneath their feet made him grit his teeth, bracing for the bone-jarring crunch of impact.

The sound of the elevator hitting the ground made Alucard bark in pain, then cower as it partially collapsed in on itself. The world went dark, then red as they bounced around like bits of fluff on the wind. A moment later something crashed onto the roof, a bit of what looked like a support beam slicing through the roof and coming to an abrupt halt about a centimeter away from Alucard's leg.

Bruised, bleeding, he checked on the limp Integra. She must have knocked her head on the wall as they fell, because she was unconscious.

"Are you alive?" He didn't savor the idea of being trapped in an elevator with a dead man.

[stonyfaced]

Vimes gave a sharp grunt of pain as he felt his entire body jerk to the ground and the back of his head slam into a bar that was, apparently, far pointier than it looked. Grimacing, he reached a hand clumsily to the back of his head and noted with disgust that blood was trickling down his shirt. The pain didn't seem to register, though, nor were his eyes working.

"Barely," he replied, a bite of sardonic humor apparent in his tone. Ah, and there went his vision. The other man and woman accompanying him bounced into clarity. Ah, there went the pain. Oh goddammit, there was the pain.

Keeping his hand clamped firmly upon the back of his head, he rose unsteadily to his feet, regarding what had happened all around them. Shit. Not one investigation could go according to plan. Explosives, too! Vimes wasn't in the explosives field. He wasn't in the CIA. He was a copper, whose expertise consisted of running, ordering lads about, running, shooting things, running, dealing with possibly violent situations and running. And there was nowhere to run in here. (Nowhere to hide, either, but Vimes was never very fond of clichés.)

He surveyed the man in front of him. Tall. Pale. Dark hair. Handsome enough, accompanied by a lady. How much help would be be in a crisis? Well, he looked fit. Fitter than Vimes. Who knew how much help being fit would be when trapped in this sort of place, though. But he was wearing a suit, and Vimes as a rule, did not trust men in suits. He just didn't.

"Are you hurt?" He asked. For courtesy's sake. He cared a bit more about his own blood right now, but he figured that it would be a good idea to know if any legs were chopped off or not, and squinting in the darkness of the enclosure, he was startled to see that even if some sort of limb had been removed, he wouldn't be able to tell.

[toothsomehound]

The other occupant's response relieved Alucard, to some degree- not that he cared deeply about the life of a stranger, but it was nice to know there was an extra set of hands to help in this nightmarish situation. Integra was a deep-breathing weight on his lap, bleeding heavily from a forehead wound (but they always bleed so deeply, forehead wounds, so much blood you could go blind from it).

"Well, barely is better by infinite amounts than not, so stop looking around and help me to get the escape hatch opened." He eased Integra off his lap, squinting at the hunk of metal above his leg. Edging it out from under the beam hurt, but he'd had worse. Standing up felt- strange- like the back of his suit was drenched in blood. His hand came away from it painted with the stuff. Smelled like his, so he wasn't concerned. He wasn't the type of man to pass out from blood loss, he told himself. Pain was no issue, either. Alucard had dealt with worse. Hell, he had pulled that bullet from his hip just a few days ago by himself.

In response to the question Alucard shrugged. Now wasn't the time to categorize injuries. That could be done when there was time to spare, not when they had to mind any more potential collapses of integral structures. "I don't know. It doesn't matter right now, there's nothing to be done about it." He gave the beam lanced through the crushed top of the elevator an experimental push. It didn't budge.

[stonyfaced]

Getting out. Yeah. Right. Vimes set to look around, a bit sheepish at not being able to get things underneath control first, as someone of his status ought to. Oh well. Things like that didn't really matter when he had a great big bloody hole in his head and there was some concussed woman lying in front of him. Priorities, priorities.

"Fine," he said shortly, not irritated but definitely ready to get out of the damn elevator. He didn't like small spaces, and being here, in the dark, really didn't help. Speaking of which, he could hardly see and was forced to squint to make out the vague shapes of ominous looking objects.

All right. There was a beam in the ceiling. Would shooting it help? No. He frowned in thought, a million different things racing through his mind that were decidedly unhelpful. He regarded the ceiling of the elevator with little interest. There was a little blinking light that informed them that hey, that thing right there that a pole crashed into? That's where they could get out.

He stamped the ground a couple times, experimentally, but to his dismay, the ground was completely solid. The doors, on the other hand... He marched up to them, jabbing his fingers through a small crack and began to push. It creaked, slowly. There was a chance of them getting out through there, and by God, Vimes was going to take that chance. "We can get these doors open, I think," he grunted.

[toothsomehound]

Alucard couldn't help but stare at the gaping wound on the man's head. His own vision, unencumbered by the darkness (and it was dark, oh, so dark), could still pick out each hair stuck together with blood. There was no notable indent on the man's head when he walked by Alucard, though, and for that he was grateful. "Here, let's pull together." He joined Vimes and began to pull on the opposite door, trying to get the doors' gears to give. His vision started to streak white, then black. Losing sensation in his back was a small price to pay for the comforting moan of metal giving way. Even so, he doubted he would have succeeded had it just been himself- Vimes was strong, despite his gaping head wound.

Alucard staggered back, sliding down to the floor of the elevator (the movement was a little too slick- was he still bleeding? what from?) and surveying the rubble in front of them. It wasn't as bad as the tangle of the elevator- in fact, there was a discernible path. "Do you know the layout of the basement at all?" Something a bit more pressing occurred to him as he slid Integra into his lap, checking her breathing, her pulse: "What's your name?"

She was alive, breathing steadily, pulse thrumming under his fingers. After a moment of thought, he managed to get her onto his back, draping her limp arms over his shoulders and hooking his arms under her legs. Her hair was rich and gold over his shoulder, her weight light. (Alucard made a mental note to tell her to eat more.) "Lead the way, if you can find the exit."

[stonyfaced]

As soon as the door finally opened, Vimes fell forward through it, hissing a curse at his lack of foresight. Gravity. He forgot about that. If you leaned on something and it opened, you'd fall. Getting over the pain of smashing his nose into the concrete floor (which really wasn't too bad; Vimes' nose was crooked from how many times he broke it), he clambered to his feet.

"It's Vimes, thanks," he said hurriedly, not even bothering with the whole 'sergeant' thing, "and I think I know the layout well enough to give it a go." He regarded the dark basement, filled with clutter and debris grimly. A map of the area had been provided for him, sure, but it would be hard enough navigating in the dark, let alone around all the crap lying around.

Closing his eyes, he hummed underneath his breath, bouncing on the balls of his feet; where his eyes failed, his feet would lead. Yeah. He got this. "This way. And be careful, Mr...?"

He took two steps. Stubbed his toe. Kept on going. That's what coppers did--they kept on going.

[damnabletart]

Integral stirred on the vampire's back, consciousness returning with throbbing ache in her skull. It took her a moment to realize where she was, but her attempt to straighten resulted in a very painful protest in her skull. The blond inhaled sharply as her head spun, darkness doing nothing to ease the headache that was suddenly splitting her skull with bright bursts in her vision.

"Put me down, Alucard." Her voice wasn't as strong as she would have liked, nausea and disorientation blurring her usual clarity.

[toothsomehound]

Watching the other man stumble around, Alucard couldn't help but wince as he smacked into object after object. "Alucard," he offered in response to the other's question, sighing deeply. Reaching forwards, he caught the man by the elbow and stepped in front of him, shaking his head. "Please, tell me which way to go. I seem to be able to navigate the particulars a bit more... efficiently... than you can." He gave Vimes a rather nasty smile, one filled with entirely too many teeth and entirely too little kindness.

The stirring of Integra on his back made him start. "Master Integra," he hissed in pain as her grip shifted, spiking into a particularly wet-feeling spot on his back. "You are in no shape to walk, regrettably. Hold still, if you will, and we'll be able to escape soon." Alucard didn't say it, and nobody but he could see it, but his expression cleared significantly. His master alive and snappy was something he was deeply glad of.

[damnabletart]

His back was covered in something damp; She could feel it soaking through his shirt beneath her hands, and the feeling of something wet on the back of her own neck as well. It smelled like blood when she rather reluctantly rested her forehead on him once more. It was strangely chilling, to realize he was so badly injured and still walking.

"What is the situation?" She couldn't remember the moments past checking her watch, for some reason.

[toothsomehound]

Alucard wasn't sure what to make of his master resting her head on him again. Had she hit her head too hard? Was she unable to move her neck properly? Or... was she simply upset? Any rational human being would be, he decided. Alucard was focused on getting Integra (and Vimes, he supposed) out before anything worse happened inside the building. A small part of him centered on that contact and didn't let go, memorizing the feeling of somebody turning to him- him!- for comfort.

"There seems to have been some kind of explosion," he explained, picking through the rubble casually. To him, after all, everything was bright as day. "The elevator dropped down to the basement and some sort of beams seem to have followed as well. Currently we're trying to escape the basement."

[stonyfaced]

"No, thanks," Vimes replied--he barely trusted himself to navigate through this mess, let alone a man he didn't know. Actually he just didn't like the look of him in general. He smiled, and people generally didn't smile unless something was funny (and Vimes didn't consider this particular experience to be humorous in the slightest) or if they were hiding something. Nasty business was why he was summoned here in the first place; it wouldn't surprise him if this Alucard man was involved in it as well.

Regardless, Vimes had to get all three of them out. Protocol was important. If you killed a man, you were just as bad as those basatrds running around on the street claiming sacrifices for the revolution. "I wouldn't know this place well enough to give directions, and..." He patted his pocket, trailing off, and felt a packet of cigarettes. Good. He could use--

Wait. How stupid could he get? He had his cigarettes, which meant he had a lighter, which meant fire, which meant light! He lit it, hoping briefly that there would be a convenient candle (there wasn't) and instead made do with holding it in the air as he made his way across.

A wall of debris made itself usefully in the way of the door Vimes knew existed.

"Oh--bugger!"

[damnabletart]

Integral closed her eyes, though it didn't make much difference from one interrupted darkness to another. "Don't try. Do it." She certainly wasn't going to die in some dusty basement from a silly explosion. "That's an order."

She felt like her head was jumbled with gravel or something, a fuzzy feeling like barbed wire rattling in her brain. Hit her head too hard, obviously, on whatever it was.

[toothsomehound]

Turning up his nose at Vimes' dismissive words, he scanned the area for another path out. "Yes, my master." He ignored the lighting of the match, knowing full well what Vimes would see. "There is another path through here," Alucard told the man. He moved towards it soundlessly, listening to the heartbeat of Integral in his ear, the sounds of Vimes cussing and searching for a way around.

He kicked aside a small bit of rubble, surveying the corridor of crushed wood ahead of them. The entire thing looked ready to fold in on itself. In fact, it seemed to be in the process of it. Because of that, he had no concerns about walking straight into the spiked maw. "Please do try to keep up, Mr. Vimes," he called, hands tight on his master. His own energy was seeping out of him like a fount of water. He had to get them out- all of them- before he lost all will to go forwards.

[stonyfaced]

Vimes watched as the guy...walked straight through the fallen wood, which was most probably full of splinters and nails and other such unpleasant things. He called the woman slung over his shoulder "My Master," and it made him recoil in disgust. The man was a genetic mutation whatever, probably. Couldn't stand the things. And really, right through the debris? Really?

Please do try to keep up, Mr. Vimes.

Feeling as if he was being treated as some sort of insolent child trailing behind (which he damn well wasn't), he didn't dignify that with a response, merely kept at his attempts of bashing wood off to the side. He was prideful, yes, stupid, no. Pride wasn't enough to make him run headfirst into a pile of pointy objects.

Usually, cops were presented in a more positive light in these occasions. In movies, and all that rubbish. You know, copper trapped, leads people to safety, people are redeemed, he gets a shiny medal, the dog gets a bone, the people yell, hurrah for the copper! Hurrah! Oh well. Vimes didn't much like medals anyways, and was all too happy to follow somebody else if it meant getting the hell out of there.

Through the doorway! Let there be light! Let there be grass! Let there be... stairs. Damn! Damn damn damn damn damn! Vimes took a step and plunged his foot straight through a stair, gaining a few nasty splinters he somehow managed to avoid getting in there. "Careful," he warned, and with that, climbed up the stairs and cautiously pushed the door open.

Another room full of debris and a small fire in the corner. Splendid.

[damnabletart]

If Integral had been a bit more coherent, she probably would have suggested leaving the arrogant policeman behind to fumble about on his own, and see how much good it did him. Right now, however, she was not terribly coherent. She just wanted to get out of here.

"Kitchen or front door. Fire escape."