Night 60: East Wing, Hall A [Second Floor]

[melodists]

[From here.]The comment Mikado had posed caught Tear entirely off her guard; however, she still took the time to examine her surroundings before moving to address it. Her light moved across the floor, the doors, and the ceiling, checking for incongruity, and then turned back to the other. "A soldier?" she echoed. Her memory spoke of an announcement

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[bastard_sadi]

[Coming from here.]

Daemon moved them into the adjoining hall, pausing to glance at his map once more. "There should be a janitor's closet down here, third door on the left," he murmured aloud, his voice hushed in the thick darkness around them. "There's another storage closet directly across from it, fourth door on the right."

[stray_shinigami]

Renji's shoulder jerked when Daemon touched him, but he made himself relax and nod.

Everything about the damn place sucked. As if he'd had a chance to forget. At least Daemon hadn't brought up the five minutes of unpleasant conversation they'd had the previous night.

"Janitor closet first," Renji said. "I think that's the best bet for weapons if the alchemists... aren't around any more."

There was no escaping it.

[bastard_sadi]

"We'll make do," Daemon answered, his own voice holding a grim note as he moved deeper down the hall, finding the door they were looking for. The handle was locked, but not securely. He could feel enough give that he was fairly certain he could snap it.

"Hold on," he murmured, drawing on his reduced reserves of power and crafting a Black shield about his hand and flashlight. Satisfied that it would hold for at least one impact, he made it count, slamming the butt of the flashlight handle down at an angle. The handle cracked, crumbling away, and the shield about his hand snapped, making him hiss as he pulled back his hand.

"Well. That worked at least," he muttered ruefully, carefully rubbing his hand where the magical backlash had hit him. "Let's see what they're hiding up here tonight.

[Going to here.]

[ofthemotions]

He followed her quickly, feeling a bit out of place in the setting at hand. He was being ordered by a girl no more than a few years older than him, who was a soldier of... Whatever she had said, and seemed more competent than he could ever hope to be. It was a little daunting. But, he really couldn't think about that right now. He needed to focus on at least succeeding.

So the boy nodded, seemingly open. "Major Harrington, I think," he replied, sounding out the awkward English syllables. "He was looking for information on the people who...." All of that was obvious; the military had been outright about wanting their traitors found. "Uh, my... uh, friend was talking to him." Because how else would he refer to Izaya, really. Mikado frowned a bit. "...He was doing some weird tricks with fire. I couldn't figure it out."

[melodists]

Her memory was spot on. The night Aguilar had taken to seeking out the cracks in his brigade, and it seemed Major Harrington had been placed in charge of the search. And Mikado had met the man and had found he could apparently perform "tricks" with fire. Needless to say, Tear's first thought went to fonic artes.

"What do you mean tricks with fire?" she asked. The Melodist continued moving down the hallway, conscious of the doors and openings. One of the doors on their right would lead them to the general storage.

[ofthemotions]

He gave a perfunctorily look around the hallway before answering. It was quiet up here. It had been louder two nights ago. It was really sorta... creepy like this, with just the tap of their feet against the flooring. He swallowed a bit, tightening his grip on his flashlight. "Um, well."

How to describe it. "He seemed to make fire appear from his hands. It shot up nearly to the ceiling at one point. I mean, it had to be a trick, but I really thought...." Really hoped to think, more like. He let out a small laugh, looking at her sheepishly. "Seemed more like magic than anything else. Guess he was really good."

[melodists]

The response brought Tear to a full stop, her countenance settling into a tight form. Mikado held an edge of doubt in his voice in regards to Harrington's ability, which Tear supposed was understandable. She did not, however, believe cheap machinations were the source of what the young man had witnessed. Fire to the ceiling sounded closer to a weapon than a simple trick, and given what this world was capable of, it wasn't wise to think in terms of simplicity.

Therefore, Tear glanced back to the other instead of progressing. Her eyes remained questioning, though an observant individual might have caught the unwavering glint beneath the blue. "I see," came the answer. "This is a rather odd question, but would you mind going over what he did with his hands?"