Comments | damned: Night 49: Main Hallway 2-West

swornandbroken in damned

Night 49: Main Hallway 2-West

May 17, 2010 21:35

[from here]As Mello walked toward the area overlooking the Sun Room, a tension he hadn't realized he was carrying eased off a little, not entirely. There'd be screaming in the rooms by that hallway, the one he deliberately hadn't let himself glance in the direction of, though he knew the sound wouldn't carry to the hall itself. Nothing he could do ( Read more... )

sho, ronixis, meche, asuka, tsubaki, agatha, two-face, sora, neku, prussia, indiana jones, matt, fai, kurogane, lunge, spock, mello, scar (tlk), l, brainiac 5, the flash, tim drake

Comments 56

gamingsostfu May 18 2010, 01:46:13 UTC

Matt stopped again at that, awash in a strange mix of shock and anger. He stared blankly for a minute before his eyes narrowed into another glare, and he was quickly losing what little patience he'd started the night off with. "Look," he started in an even tone, trying to keep his voice down. "I had a pretty shitty day yesterday, dealing with you and Kira and all sorts of shit I didn't ask for. Then I woke up in a weird place this morning, was told immediately that I'm crazy, and then told that I'm not crazy, just trapped. On top of all this shit, I haven't had a smoke since-" I died, but he couldn't say that. "...since last night.

"I need you t'get over whatever's up with you." He didn't know what was going on with his friend, but something bad had happened, of that he was sure; Mello was just too tense, way more tense than normal. It was alarming, to say the least.

After another moment, Matt looked away. "I don't know. It hadn't ended yet." He technically wasn't lying.

swornandbroken May 18 2010, 06:02:13 UTC

"It hasn't?" Mello stopped dead, staring at Matt. That's impossible. Two months, and he hadn't ended it yet? He'd been so sure he was closing in. Wrong about that, when he hadn't been affected by this place yet, that hurt. He frowned heavily. "How long ago did I contact you?"

He wouldn't have waited, once he decided to call on Matt. He was still the same person who'd flown from LA to New York not even a week after blowing himself up. Because he'd had to, and that was what he did. He huffed. "And there's nothing wrong with me. I'm fine. Having a fucking field day in the crazy house." His voice dripped sarcasm by the end, and he let the flashlight hang at his side, tapping a restless rhythm against his leg. There was more up with Matt than he was admitting to. Sure, it had been five years since Mello had seen him, but he knew skirting the edge of babbling when he heard it, and he knew evasiveness damn well when he saw it. "What's your deal?"

gamingsostfu May 18 2010, 06:34:34 UTC

Matt's eyes focused almost immediately on the repetitive motion of the flashlight against Mello's leg; aiming his own down at the floor, he stared at the other man's flashlight, trying to avoid direct eye contact for as long as humanly possible. The denial was expected, but Matt couldn't help the feeling that there was something inwardly off about Mello; even being in a place like this, he couldn't really see the blond as the type to get so easily high-strung over nothing. He chose not to say anything more about it for the moment, though. It wasn't worth it yet.

"Look, I- Crap, that's not what I meant," he went on, shuffling backward a little at Mello's questions. He clicked the light off to keep his slight flush in the dark; if the blond saw that, he'd know for sure that something was wrong, even more so than he knew right then. "You called me about two months ago, and it's probably ended by now, but I didn't get the chance to catch it." He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. This was fucked up enough without losing his cool ( ... )

swornandbroken May 19 2010, 00:26:29 UTC

God, you couldn't be more blatant if you tried. Mello gave another irritated sigh. He would have accepted the explanation that Matt had been dragged here before the end went down, if the other had been able to offer it without literally backing off and hiding, which made the breath he sucked in, in the now-dark silence, all the more obvious. Whatever the fuck was going on, Matt was at pains to hide it. It was also the only reason, Mello was sure, that he hadn't started in with questions of his own yet. All the more reason to get the story out of him.

"Come on." He clicked his flashlight on. Only so Matt could see he was continuing, of course.

[to here]

toxicspiderman May 18 2010, 03:26:37 UTC

[from here]

And there was Exhibit A in the no pity department. Shorty was bitching at (or being bitched at) a new arrival who knew the kid. Great. The lack of people from S.T.'s home was neatly counterbalanced by the lack of people from S.T.'s home. Though he still maintained that Dolmacher would love this place. Treat it like one big happy survival game and assume he was going to win. S.T. might even reconsider his Hell Freezes Over policy on returning Dolmacher's calls.

Why the fuck was he thinking of that sad excuse for a college chum? Because the last time the world almost ended, his smiling face had been the pasty white lantern in the sky.

[to link TBA]

emotionl4arobot May 19 2010, 07:49:23 UTC

[nocturnal collision from here. NO LINKING OUT FOR YOU]

With his flashlight off to avoid detection from Grell, Brainiac 5 had a much harder time of navigating the stairs than he would have normally, something that likely wasn't helped by how jumpy he was feeling. He kept half-expecting Grell to appear behind him somehow, the result of which was that he was less concerned with what was in front of him as what, or who, might have been following him...

And he bumped into someone.

He jumped back immediately and flicked on the flashlight again, directing it towards the floor and taking a quick look at the man he'd run into. No one he recognised as a threat, though come to think of it, he was certain they'd spoken before.

"Sorry, I was... preoccupied," he said quickly. "I didn't see you there."

toxicspiderman May 21 2010, 01:04:15 UTC

S.T. was debating the merits of the janitor's closet versus the staff kitchen for likelyhood of plastic baggie possession when someone rear-ended him. Just a nudge, really. No scratches, possible whiplash lawsuit three decades later when someone slept with a lawyer and got ideas. He turned around.

It was the kid from that night. The third (bicycle) wheel in his and Peter's little death à trois. Back for another round on whatever the hell this night was going to be. "Hey, man. No worries. But," he trailed off. You're going to get yourself killed that way was a little more of an asshole thing when talking to someone you'd seen kick it. "Who pissed in your granola? They didn't drag your roommate off or something, did they?"

It was the logical explanation for the kid looking two exhaust backfires short of an unseasonably youthful heart attack. That or something had tried to eat him on the stairs, but S.T. didn't smell blood.

emotionl4arobot May 21 2010, 11:07:54 UTC

It took him a fraction of a second longer than he would have liked to place the voice and face to a name. Sangamon Toxic; they'd had lunch the day after they'd all... died. Brainiac 5 had been understandably in a bad mood after that, and less inclined to be civil to others. Which hadn't been fair, considering Sangamon had been polite enough in conversation.

Unfortunately he wasn't any more inclined to stand around talking now, since he still wasn't sure if Grell would be heading up to this level some time soon.

"No," he said quickly, glancing back at the stairs more out of habit than anything else. "Peter's fine, at least as far as I know. I... spotted someone I'd rather avoid. And I think he might have seen me as well, so I should try and keep moving."

Thread 5

composers_proxy May 18 2010, 16:46:32 UTC

[[from here]]

So far, so good. And from the look of it, no creepy stalkers tonight. Whatever vendetta Sho had, it seemed like it was against Josh and Josh alone. There'd been, surprisingly enough, no death threats or hostile action from the mathematician since the incident. Though that wasn't to say he wouldn't in the future.

Looked like the place was pretty clear too. Whatever he and Leonard had run into last night in this area, it didn't seem to be around anymore. Even if it was hard not to wonder if each shadow was a trick of the light or if he really would see not!Shiki again tonight. One shot to the chest was more than enough for him. Hopefully they could just get the files and get going.

scintillatingly May 19 2010, 02:06:08 UTC

Even Neku had a map! Sora really needed to hit the bulletin board first thing in the morning and get a hold of Naminé. Still, he could only be thankful that the other boy had been more responsible than him, since now he had a pretty good idea of how to get to the file room. It was kind of a trek, since it was over by the storage rooms, but he didn't think they would have a tough time getting there unless something got in their way ( ... )

number_crunch May 18 2010, 17:50:23 UTC

[From here]

It was with a mad cackle that Sho topped the stairs and entered the hall, the trailing end to one of his usual rants. He would have continued, but the roving beam of his flashlight briefly illuminated two familiar silhouettes. Or, rather, one familiar silhouette twice. That mass of acute angles for hair was Phones, no doubt, but why was there another one? For that matter, what were they up to? Not that Sho really cared what Neku did, but as the (former) Composer's Proxy, he was a variable worth keeping an eye on.

"Just what are you up to, you little yoctogram," Sho muttered under his breath as he headed down the hall. He was wary, but it wasn't like he was going to avoid the Player or change his plans for him.

(The comment has been removed)

number_crunch May 18 2010, 23:15:37 UTC

Heh. "Sounds cool". When was the last time someone gave that kind of lukewarm praise to Sho's art? Or any praise at all. Then again, that kind of lame excuse for a line sounded like the kind of thing someone named "Alvin Draper" would say. Guy was already grating on his nerves, but who didn't? He could always just throw him at the first thing with teeth and claws they encountered.

"Bzzt, wrong!" he said with a snort. "That's one of the Players from the Game. Uppity little limacon. A real pain in the asymptote, getting in my way that week."

Making a snap decision, Sho changed directions, angling towards one of the side halls now rather than just parallel to the wall.

"Kitchen's this way," he told Alvin, though it sounded like he was convincing himself.

[To here]

chainsaw_royal May 18 2010, 18:01:59 UTC

[From here]

Hime looked about in the new hallway. She hadn't been to this part of the institute yet, but she had a mild understanding of the layout. The nearest hallway was the one that led towards where the sleep studies were conducted. The idea that Kagura had been taken for them was one that had also occurred to her. Unlikely, but always possible. There was always mention on the board of people disappearing and reappearing, after all.

"Even if it's locked, I'd like to investigate these M-U trials," said Hime, pointing her flashlight and leading the way.

scalyfishman May 18 2010, 19:24:55 UTC

And there was another one of what Depth Charge had come to recognise as Hime’s own personal Minor Psychotic Tics: those little moments where, really, he couldn’t help but wonder if she actually liked the idea of running into Landel’s worst in a dark hallway. Pit, maybe things were flipped and he just hadn’t realised that the monsters in this place all secretly feared running into a certain terrifyingly smug blonde girl at night.

Well, whatever. None of them were around here tonight, and that was what counted. “Pretty much. You wouldn’t believe half of the crazy slag I’ve seen happen in this hallway.” Then again, spending time here did have a way of opening your mind. He nodded, eyes briefly following the line of her light. “Fine with me. Should be a rescue team there at some point, if you want to ask one of them about it.”

Never mind the fact that he knew that he should really be on that rescue team. With a hurried mutter of "c'mon," he moved in front of her and strode down the hall towards the door to the next corridor.

[To here]