Night 43: Hall M41-M50

[razmaspaz]

Raz opened his eyes. The room was now completely dark. Night had arrived.

He felt something hard under his pillow, and he lifted it to discover that it was a flashlight. "Where did this come from?" Raz inquired, obviously not expecting an answer. Still, it was definitely going to come in handy, so he took it in hand as he hopped off the bed and

Comments

[itstaichoutoyou]

Iris' strange announcement roused Hitsugaya from his sleep. The first thought that crossed his mind was that he had a mission, something to give his mournful body a purpose tonight, something he desperately needed.

As his padded feet touched the cool floor, his eyes were drawn to the new items in his room, splayed out on his desk. This is... His fingers reached for the hauntingly familiar blade, which he recognized as Haineko...

"That's impossible..." he whispered. This was Matsumoto's blade, with her... gone... Haineko shouldn't even be here, yet it was staring at him in the face

[itstaichoutoyou]

[to here]

[screwthegods]

As entertaining as it was making his roommate fluster, the evening announcements accounced the dwindling time better than any clock could. As soon as the first came over the intercom, Homura had taken the knife he'd gotten the night before and cut his sheet into strips. Some would likely be used for bandages before night's end, but most were for Adel. Braiding those strips together to make a stronger rope, Homura worked quickly until the second announcement came on.

There wasn't enough time.

Lacking any concern for his roommate's potential mortification, Homura changed into his regular clothes, and got his sword from the closet. Strips were used to make places for both blades to hang at his side: not ideal, but functional. Stuffing the rest of the bedsheet into a pillow case, Homura took that and his flashlight, then headed into the hall. Kibitoshin received little more than a nod from the demi-god on his way out; Homura had no more time for games now that night had officially begun.

[screwthegods]

[ To here]

[bitpartgod]

W-wait a second-!

Homura was gone, leaving a very confused Kibitoshin to stare after the space by the door where he had been standing. Did... he do that at the beginning of every nightshift? Oh, boy. This whole 'roommate' thing was really going to take some getting used to...

Forcing himself out of his dizzy snap he hopped to his feet, narrowly avoiding stumbling against his desk, and dug around in the drawers for his flashlight. It clicked on without a hitch and for a moment he thought he was going to faint with relief; the difference having it with him the previous night would have made... well, okay, it wasn't enormous, but a light would at least have made him feel a lot better about being in a zombie-infested nightmare.

Feel surprisingly good for someone about to walk into the institutionalised equivalent of the same, he set about finding his weapon. The shelf had been tucked neatly under his bed. He manouvred it carefully out and, with a cautious peek out of his door, he took in a deep breath and hurried out.

[To here]

[purpletaint]

The machine crackled over the intercom, and Albedo barely moved in response to it. Fingers flicked over the material beneath them, cheap cloth and smooth buttons, yarn and string and little more, and felt something like anger overriding the settling amusement, something too close to discontent, itchy and anxiety ridden under the skin to be ignored. The boy stood suddenly, crossed to the closet never-opened and retrieved the overcoat there. The doll hidden in one pocket, flashlight hanging out of the other, Albedo moved to the door.

Once there, he paused, glancing back. A thread of uncertainty passed through him for no reason he could voice, punctuated by the wall across from him shuddering, digitalizing, before becoming like it had always been. His eyes were unreadable as he stared, then Albedo turned and opened the door.

[to here]

[unheroed]

[Going to chronologically assume this is after Lunge leaves.]At this point, Harvey still wasn't sure what to make of his new roommate. He couldn't help wondering about what the hell had happened to Godot, though he wasn't invested enough in the man to do anything besides wonder. As for Lunge, he was easier to talk to in one way (he didn't toss out analogies and metaphors like they were candy, for one thing), and yet there was something about him that put Harvey on guard

[unheroed]

[To here.]