NIGHT 53: WEST WING, NORTH HALL 1-A
[ from here ]The doors to the next hallway were already wide open when she came through, though the ones at the far end of the hall were, as she could see from one brief flick of her flashlight, were tightly shut. Weren't those the doors to the recreational field? They were in the hall directly North of hers, it only made sense for this to be the
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Even though there was nothing tying her to the conversation she'd caught a snippet from as she jogged through, the name still echoed. Elena. She didn't even know Bothari-Jezek well, though she had some connection to Miles neither he nor anyone else had bothered to explain. Not that she'd asked; there were things Taura wasn't on the need-to-know list for, and why a couple of ex-Barrayaran minor nobility were running around a mercenary outfit definitely qualified. At least she thought they were important; maybe nobility wasn't the right word. Other Barrayarans twitched when they walked in, though some of that was evidently due to some odd rules about women in combat. Given that one of the few things everyone knew was that Elena could out-shoot, out-wrestle, and out-plan her engineer husband as well as most of the Dendarii's makeshift brass, they should twitch before offering her insult ( ... )
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Taura had been engineered to have a high pain tolerance; pierced ears were nothing compared to being grazed by explosive needle darts. The water standing in her eyes as she ran had nothing to do with the fresh wounds on her ears, and everything to do with those on her heart. She'd been left behind, again, and she couldn't pin her hopes on a second miraculous rescue.
One to a lifetime. If she wanted to get out of here, she was on her own. And she had a meeting to attend.
[to here]
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While Ritsu’s footsteps were usually shuffling and effeminate, there was something different about how his feet dragged across the smooth floor of the hallway this night. His gait was less frantic and fearful than most would remember, and his pace had a rather a slow, listless rhythm. Uncertain. Lost.
He let out a shaking, almost rattling sigh, daintily wiping at the tears which blurred his vision to near blindness in the darkness around him. His flashlight was almost no help, considering the half-hearted way he held it - most of the beam hit the floor, only managing to illuminate the few feet in front of him, though this didn’t seem to affect his movements.
The young man continued to move, pausing every so often to dab at his eyes before proceeding. Going somewhere, anywhere, even he wasn’t sure, his mind too full and too empty all at once.
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The crowds showed no sign of abating. Javert only quickened his pace. There was little to be gained from watching anyone else.
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All things considered, the meeting with Sechs had been far from ideal. Most importantly, it had wasted precious time. Javert turned his steps toward the outside hallway with purpose. There were patients upstairs who needed assistance.
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Russia pushed out into the larger hallway, not bothering with a light. Japan should have gotten a nice party together to go up to get his scarf back, so he stepped a little lighter, thinking of the new friends he would be making. Of course, Japan was old and feeble, so it was possible there wouldn't be very many.
He strolled at an easy pace, not bothered by the hurry or panic that seemed to fill the patients around him.
[to here]
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The door to this hallway was open for some reason... odd. Ranulf scanned the hallway, drawing even more information on his map as he decided what to do next.
He could continue on or head to the left. Thinking about it, he decided to take the left doorway. It'd probably be better to scan this whole area first, before advancing onward. Grabbing the door handle, he slipped his way through.
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