Night 57: M-A Block Hallway

[train_tracer]

[from here]He slipped silently down the hallway, flashlight (turned off) in hand, as he couldn't fit it into a pocket with both the bulky radio as well as the gun. A hassle, but bearable. Having a portable source of light handy with him while wandering dark corridors was actually rather helpful, even if normally, Vino wouldn't have bothered with it

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[anemptydecapo]

[From here. Time-skipping until after Dean and Claire's conversation]It was strange. He'd spent the entire day on edge, teasing himself with the assumption that his lord would return to visit him in the day, leaving his night to the inevitable task of searching for the man in Doyleton. Childish as it was, he hadn't made any plans for the night otherwise. He'd just... waited. Now that it had fallen through and he was left wandering through these empty halls, it was becoming increasingly obvious how little he could do here

[savagesolitude]

[DOING THE TIME WARP AGAIN]

With Dean gone, Claire was at a loss for a purpose. She could explore, she supposed. She could try to unravel what Charlotte was, return to her room and wring her memories for solid images and sounds that had nothing to do with islands or Others. She could test the boundaries of whatever this was. Attack something, try to break the illusion. Find evidence towards or against the nights of Landel's as an illusion. Her injuries carried over, but how much of that was her own perception and how much was reality?

She stood alone in the hallways, pondering her next move with unnatural stillness. A halo of white caught the corner of her eye. She turned and found Venom.

In what was probably the most hideously reprehensible costume known to mankind. Claire blinked. Guess that was one point for this all being a dream.

"...Venom?"

[anemptydecapo]

There was a brief moment after the woman called the assassin out on his location where he instinctively stepped back into the shadows, as if to correct her that, no, he wasn't there at all. It was rude, but unintentional and once he'd caught himself doing it he stepped forward again, dropping his raised hand back to his side in the process.

"Ms. Littleton." He hadn't seen here since the altercation in town, though she had written she was in good health. That didn't take back what he'd done or the fact that he'd sabotaged her gift, even if them taking it away was only temporary. It shouldn't have happened in the first place.

He didn't bother taking any further steps to be closer to the woman, though his tone of voice was at least partially less cold than it usually was. "What are you doing here?" Was she lost?

[savagesolitude]

Claire did take note of the hesitation, but thought nothing of it. She'd be trying to hide too if she was in that crazy get-up. Was this something of his own, like Battler's suit? Or even her own ragged, sandy clothes?

Good god, she hoped not.

"I was giving some chocolate to Dean," she elaborated, still bunny-stunned. It did not occur to her in the slightest to explain who Dean was. It was the honest answer, and that was all that mattered to her these days. "But I don't know what I'm doing now. Is this your hall?" She cast a quick glance down to sectioned rows, wondering which he'd come from. He had caught her eye far too late to figure out which.

Curious, and having just enough tact left within her to avoid asking about the clothes, she went for the next biggest puzzle. "Where are you going tonight?"

[the_prosecutor]

[from here.]As quick as Edgeworth's stride was, he was beginning to regret wearing a jacket. A part of his mind heavily considered going back and returning the jacket he had borrowed from Phoenix to his dresser, but he supposed if nothing else he could return it to the defense attorney. It had largely been a trade that they had made due to just how thin the shirt he had been provided with was, but he hadn't had the time to trade the garments back after the attack they'd endured with Niikura the night before. The uniform provided by the institute, however, had proven to be warmer than his secondhand clothes and more comfortable than his military uniform, and even if he abhorred wandering around in sweatpants, he supposed that he couldn't exactly be picky under the circumstances - though he desperately wanted to be

[lookitmemama]

[From here]

Asuka stuck close to the right so her flashlights could pick up on the first numbered room that began each corridor. Once she hit M31, Asuka quickly turned and turned off her flashlight. With a self-satisfied smile, she began creeping quietly over to number thirty-four. There door was still closed, and the eva pilot feared Kaworu hadn't even left yet.