Nightshift 40: Greenhouse Yard

[youlackmascara]

[from here]Itachi made it out to the yard without being accosted by any vengeance-obsessed brothers, so he could probably continue with his plans without further disruption. Additionally, there didn't seem to be any monsters or other obstacles in this area, either. With the exception of that minor occurrence, the night was proceeding entirely too

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[sasuke_of_sound]

[[one vengeance-obsessed brother coming up, from here]]

The door slammed open and Sasuke burst in expecting to have to chase Itachi wherever he was headed, Sharingan blazing to life to catch his trail -- but, unexpectedly, there he was. Itachi, without a doubt, simply standing there and finally close enough to hear him and see him and fight him.

Aidou and Wolfram were long forgotten. Sasuke let the door slam shut behind him and slowed his movements to a cold, determined stalk.

"Itachi," voice almost more growl than speech. "You won't get away this time."

And without further preamble, Sasuke swung his sword into an offensive hold, pinpointed Itachi's position, and let the Sharingan fade out as he charged -- this time, unlike their first encounter in the Institute, with all his natural speed and agility fully intact.

[youlackmascara]

This is why he should have just left. He should have known his luck would turn out this way, because nothing had gone perfectly right since he had found himself in this place. Of course Sasuke would be there tonight, of course he would see him, of course he would follow him. It would be of no consequence if Sasuke's performance approximated that of the earlier night, however. Some part of him hoped it wouldn't, some part wanted to match Sasuke evenly to whatever end may come. But he could not afford to consider that option, because he would not die like this, and neither would Sasuke if Itachi had any say in the matter

[sasuke_of_sound]

There wasn't even a response -- not even the usual dismissal that Sasuke had grown to expect. Had he finally stopped so much as registering as anything of interest to Itachi? Then again, the state that Sasuke had been in the few times he'd encountered Itachi in the Institute had hardly been conducive to making it clear just how much of a threat he was

[youlackmascara]

That had backfired. He had underestimated Sasuke after all, which in some ways was rather satisfying, but at this point in time the knowledge was not improving Itachi's mood. Not only had Sasuke not charged as blindly as he usually did (speaking of course in the figurative sense), but he had immediately assessed Itachi's position and used it to his advantage. This could perhaps be an interesting fight after all. But Itachi shouldn't be entertaining any such thoughts, because whatever flicker of detached pride he felt at Sasuke's performance so far paled in comparison to the need to win. There was a time to lose, and this was not it. And Itachi was strong enough to decide when he would win or lose

[sheisthecause]

[from here]

There were only two patients in the greenhouse yard, but they were sword-fighting--and it didn't look like a practice match, even to Meche's untrained eyes. Suddenly she realized how much safer they'd been in the more crowded main hallway. Kira at least was armed, but she wasn't sure he could fight off two attackers if they decided to turn on the intruders. As for her own weapons, the best she could probably do would be to cut their hair.

She ran ahead to try the greenhouse door. No dice. "It's locked," she hissed back to Kira as loudly as she dared. "How do you want to handle it?" She could probably break it open if she had to, but not quickly and not quietly. Hopefully Mr. Death God had a better plan.

[loyal_despair]

Kira stepped into the greenhouse yard and watched the two swordfighters critically. Meche rushed to the doors of the Greenhouse, but apparently nobody had gotten in there yet. they were going to break the door open on their own. He didn't respond just yet, focused on the battle that was going on not far away. If it was a patient versus one of the brainwashed patients, then they should intervene ... but no, even when he focused to try and see if there was anything different, nothing obvious came up. The fight didn't seem particularly one-sided, either.

And they had their orders. Kira watched the fight a moment longer before approaching the greenhouse door himself to test its strength for himself. If he could still use his kidou ...

"We'll have to break it." The glass was likely to shatter, but if they were careful they could avoid being cut. He shifted his grip on the sword so the hilt was forward and eyed the lock. Would it be better to break the glass around it? "Stand back - I don't know how strong this lock is."

[sheisthecause]

Meche wasn't a particularly big believer in the idea of standing back and letting a guy do all the heavy lifting. If you were going to be on the team, she felt, you'd better be contributing to it somehow. Right now, though, she figured the most important contribution she could make to the team would be not doing anything stupid.

Manny was the one who had to turn everything into a competition, she thought--for her, coming back in one piece with what they'd been send to find would be plenty of heroism for one night. Meche moved quickly back to stand well behind Kira, giving him room for whatever he was about to do next.

[loyal_despair]

Kira tried the door one more time before stepping back again and bringing the hilt of the sword down hard where the lock and handle were. The crash reverberated up his arm, the door jerking with the effort of it. Another few hits - it couldn't take that long before the lock would give way, or the glass would shatter and allow him to reach through and get the door from the other side.

Finally, he pulled the sword away and hit the door with his shoulder, building up as much force behind it as he could muster. The door shuddered and cracked - but it gave way, as well, and Kira nearly fell straight into the greenhouse. The humidity hit him suddenly, and he moved back out of the doorway, still holding onto his sword.

Tonight, their chances of getting away unscathed couldn't be as good as the last time.

Kira glanced over at Meche, to check and see if anything had hit her, but she seemed fine. Slowly, his sword at the ready, he stepped beyond the door into the heat that seemed almost ... oppressive.

((To here.))

[shallweplay]

[From here]

Outside there looked to be the beginning of another fight, and the Claymore rolled her eyes, hoping that Tsubaki would ignore this as well. She had her eyes set on the eastern wall, which didn't look all that impossible to tackle, even with her reduced human strength and agility. "I take it you'll help to boost me up, and I'll pull you from above, correct?" she asked Tsubaki as they approached the wall, though it seemed more of a statement than a question.

[thecamellia]

When one was used to the outdoors, simple moonlight--even the kind cast by a strange, foreign moon--could illuminate a lot, and that made the confrontation happening in the greenhouse yard that much more noticeable.

Tsubaki came to a halt by the door, registering the clash of metal on metal. Weapons. Two dark-haired figures with weapons this time, both seemingly focussed on their fight, if not acting with the same amount of aggression. What was happening? What this how it really was each night? She’d seen more fights in this one night than she had her whole stay. It was one thing to read about the sorts of attacks one could expect at night here, but another to witness the reality

[shallweplay]

Ophelia was fairly confident that a boost wasn't needed hucherself, but she had been burned too many times during her time in the institute by underestimating the new limits on her abilities to risk another such incident. Better to lose a little bit of face by asking for help than losing a lot of face by falling flat on top it.

Thankfully, her assumption had been right, and the boost was barely necessary. As Tsubaki helped to push her up, Ophelia jumped and grabbed onto the top of the wall. She then pulled herself up with a surprising amount of satisfaction and reached out a hand for Tsubaki just in case she needed it.

[thecamellia]

Keeping her attention on the fight only so much as to ready herself to protect their position, Tsubaki linked her fingers tightly under Ophelia’s foot, lifting her as high as she needed. Although not quite as tall as Tsubaki herself, Ophelia was a full grown woman with muscle--managing her weight wouldn’t be an easy task for everyone. When Ophelia’s weight left Tsubaki entirely, though, she knew the woman had found the lip

[gentiana_clusii]

[from here]

Well, now at least they were outside. There was a fight going on, between two patients again--at least Ken assumed they were two patients, though really he should know better--but it wasn't any of his business.

A week earlier and he might have tried to step in. He just didn't care anymore.

Time to go up and over the wall. He assumed Crawford wouldn't need any help up, even if he did Ken wasn't likely to want to give it. He scaled the wall quickly enough, pausing for a moment before jumping down to the other side.

[to here]

[gentiana_clusii]

[ Flying! No thanks to his claw.]

Ken hit the ground like a ton of bricks, flat on his back--his head whacked the earth last, stunning him. He could feel his awareness slipping--he knew that he should struggle to keep conscious, but he was too dazed to really care.

Ow.

[damned_monsters]

For a long moment there was no sign the mimic had chosen to pursue, even though its prey was incapacitated. And then there came the sound of something hitting the ground nearby, and after another pause, soft footfalls approaching with careful deliberation.

"You make it far too easy," the mimic observed, crouching beside Ken and resting a hand lightly on the man's injured shoulder. "Not very fun at all." Its words came out in an almost mocking chuckle, smug and self-satisfied.

The light touch suddenly turned to a tight grip for a moment, squeezing the reopened wound as the creature leaned in again. Too-sharp teeth closed on the soft flesh of the man's throat, the tips dimpling skin but not quite piercing for an agonizingly long instant before they finally broke through