Night 53: Main Hallway 2-West

[neuepolitik]

[From here.]Well... here he was. Ludwig's flashlight played along the empty hallway, and for the first time, he truly felt like he was alone in this place. Up on the second floor, he couldn't even hear the constant hum of activity and movement on the lower floor. In a way, it made sense, given how much distance he'd put between them. But on the

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[rischiarare]

[From here, time-skip after Damon's encounter just so there's no desire for heroic interruptions.]

The top of the stairs was mostly free of life and almost unnaturally quiet. In a strange, possibly ironic way, the Nobody was glad to see the lights weren't shining on the second floor either. After last night, he was probably going to have a long-lasting paranoia about lights.

Maybe that was fitting. He felt so disconnected from his own element already, it was probably appropriate to start being wary of it. ("Disconnected" was relative, obviously. He was still a Nobody, no matter what Roxas thought he "felt

[thatdemonbitch]

Naive it was. There were no two ways about it -- she couldn't even bring herself to be endeared by that level of ignorance. Hell, Ruby considered it progress that she wasn't leaping to the levels of just considering him pathetic for that fact alone. Could someone seriously find it within themselves, after being grabbed by Landel and his goons, to think that the world was a cozy enough place for everyone to help one another out without expecting something in return

[autophoenix]

Used to? She tried to hide the curiosity in her gaze at that remark, and instead just gave a nod. It definitely wasn't her business why his best friend wasn't his best friend anymore, and it was even less important given the long list of things they had to get done tonight that would be helpful. That curiosity did a good job of replacing the concern in her gaze at the thought of the messiness on the second floor

[autophoenix]

Of course he had to pry. When didn't Pete feel the need to pry? A sour look twisted onto her face -- one that she tried to repress but found herself unable to. There was a lot that she could say about Mohinder Suresh, regardless of how little she knew about him, but none of it was something she wanted to drudge up at this point. She found herself chewing on her lip and she briefly turned her head away, clearing her throat.

This wasn't even close to a topic she wanted to breach. Not with Pete, not here, not out loud ever. It was just another item in the long list of things she'd managed to avoid bringing up with Peter and had hoped to dodge with everyone else on the sheer principle that they shouldn't have any reason to be interested. Having Mohinder as her therapist, however, had changed that

[gargantuanlaugh]

[from here]

Well, the stairs hadn't been too bad. But it was getting too quiet for Gant's tastes. He was about to start up some light banter with his silver-haired buddy when the sight of a monster attacking some patients off to the side caught his attention. Actually, was there more than one?

"... Have you ever seen them attack in packs like that?" It was pretty hard to watch, even though it looked like the patients there were putting up a good fight. He was a chief and believed in helping out citizens in need. But this was a special case, and they weren't in his jurisdiction. He was certain he would just get in the way, anyway.

[itneverwas]

Once Xemnas reached the second floor, it became clear that there was indeed something of interest afoot. A pair of patients were battling three small, armless abominations. In the small beams of the flashlights he could see their sickly grey skin and their large yellow eyes. Their main offense appeared to be their legs ending in sharp claws and their teeth. Alone, the creature would be of little concern, but it seemed they could become a nuisance once they traveled in numbers

[gargantuanlaugh]

"Guess that's true..." Gant cleared his throat, and shook himself mentally. He had to get used to this someday. At least he wasn't sweating quite so badly as he had on nights before. He was getting used to this place. Both a bad thing and a good thing.

"Er, true that other creatures travel in packs but..." How did he explain this? He was hoping that monsters could only come one by one? Like they would be so lucky. "You know what, I don't know what I was thinking. Let's just... move on. If you're interested..."

Gant still didn't know what this man was capable of but surely he could take a hit better than a 65 year old man. If he wanted to lead them along, Gant would follow. And while he didn't much like being a follower, he would rather the other man be the one to lead them into danger rather than be the salient on in a skirmish himself.

[itneverwas]

Xemnas merely persisted in his stare as he waited, as the other man searched for an explanation but seemingly found himself unable to find one. The topic was dropped; it would seem Gant had realized his error. Not many retaining an essence were capable of recognizing their own errors, too consumed by their own pride.

A nod. "Indeed, let us continue on our way. There is, after all, little more to perceive," the Superior commented before he returned his gaze towards the situation at hand, observing it for the briefest of moments before slipping past.

[yin_yang_fox]

[from here]

The Digimon had moved through the lower halls quickly--for two reasons, neither fully seeped in facts. There were always less patients on the second floor, and she moved easier without a throng of people--was more comfortable if it came to combat, with clear space and no liabilities around her. And another reason was only that she had noticed that the nights that became the shortest were the ones in which she stayed on the lower floor. She hadn't checked this with others, to see if it was a legitimate pattern, but it could possibly hold.

She paused at the top of the stairs, noting the sharp smell of blood. Someone had already fought here. Her accented hearing caught the trail end of something scampering away. Something that was still out there. Hm. "We'll move to the laboratory first, if you have no objections," she said offhandedly, listening intently on the hall for any further threats. Closed spaces and rooms had been proven decidedly more dangerous, but they also offered fortifications if the need arose.

[scientist_skye]

Over three weeks?! Somehow, that sounded like longer than forever despite being less than a month; time really was an odd thing in the institute. Just the six days that Ema had experienced had been exhausting and overly eventful, with being attacked by a giant rat and being experimented on and dealing with a roommate who had been brainwashed and everything that had happened the previous night. Multiplying that by three (and then some) seemed almost unfathomable

[yin_yang_fox]

There were several aspects to be noted of the next few seconds. Renamon, who didn't touch much as a Digimon, dealt with it less as a human. The first two weeks she was here, the showers had been unbearable on her unprotected skin, too much like raw flesh to her to be any comfort. The small contact she had received had been from Orihime, mainly. Jiraiya, slightly, and Nataku. But the three had been held as close, as something dear. (And now all three were gone.) Not a stranger, be it one that Renamon didn't necessarily mind. So when Ema bumped into her, the Digimon stiffened entirely, half angled towards the girl, an arm out to steady her. Ema's night vision must have been horrendous, for the flashlight not to assist her at all

[scientist_skye]

Renamon's reaction to Ema walking into her was about what she could have expected, although she was grateful when an arm came out to try and steady her. As the sounds of the creature faded and Renamon reassured her that it was not a threat, Ema released a breath she wasn't even aware of holding. The pressure of Renamon's hand on her own was a welcome bit of comfort, and Ema ran her fingers across the fabric she had clenched in her fist for a little bit before releasing it. Cotton still felt strange against her skin, rougher than it was supposed to

[sheepwood]

[From here.]

Guybrush peered outside of the stairwell before taking a step into the hall. Aside from a little commotion from other patients, the area looked clear. So far, so good.

"Okay," he said as he turned to Morgan, dropping his voice to a whisper. As eager as he for any scrap of information they could get their hands on, he wanted to make sure Morgan was going to stick to the plan rather than jumping into her usual stab-first-ask-questions-later methods. "Leela and I saw the guard right over there, just over the sun room. I'll get in there, see if I can find anyone. Let's let me do the talking first, and if things look like they're going sour, we'll let you do what you do best while they're distracted. Got it?"

[fangirlfatale]

"Guns?" Morgan questioned. Good to know. That'd make it a little more difficult to get close, but once she was in range, it wouldn't be much of a contest. Not that firearms didn't have their uses, but for a real challenge, a connoisseur's only choice for a fight had to be a sword. Anyone could shoot; a blade took innumerable hours of practice to master. Not to mention the time it had probably taken Guybrush and his generation to learn all those insults.

She joined the Mighty Pirate™ in looking around once they got out of the stairwell. Nothing interesting. The lecture that followed wasn't completely unexpected, and Morgan let out a short sigh of impatience. "Fine," she said back. "Do I get to decide when things are going sour, or do you want me to wait until you're being chased around by an angry mob again?" Clarifying that point seemed like a good idea.

[sheepwood]

"Very funny," Guybrush answered with an eyeroll. While Morgan could jump the gun sometimes, he had admit she kept a cool head in the face of danger and knew how to take control of a situation. It was a little like Elaine in a way, but with less diplomacy and more swords when she took charge. And she had gotten herself killed for his sake- the least he could do was let her decide when was the best time to get involved in the interrogation.

He sighed. "All right. We'll go with your judgment this time around. Just give me a minute to see what I can do first, okay?"

With that, he started toward the center of the hall.

[To here.]