Nightshift 49: Doctor's Office 3 [Dr. Kisugi]

[loyal_soldier]

[From here]"Fierfek," 622 cursed softly as he stepped through the door, sighing. There wasn't any reason to try and hold the door to head back, it wouldn't help them. Instead of a corridor, they'd just stepped through into one of the doctor's offices. It was better than being dropped right into a crowd of hostiles, that was for sure, but still, it

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[vodka_jump]

There might be times when Russia couldn't remember how he'd gotten somewhere, or what he was doing. There were even times when he couldn't remember what'd led up to the bloody mess on this living room floor, but it didn't change the facts. They'd come in from a hallway, walked in the door, and now they were walking back out and into a completely different room. Not a hallway at all.

"Since we are seeing the same thing sergeant, I think we can rule out your sanity."

If he didn't know better, he would've been sure this was nothing but a hallucination brought on by a long night of heavy drinking. He often had strange dreams, but this felt much too real to him to be a dream. At least not completely. Drugged maybe? It might explain a few things.

All the same, it didn't stop the dark, worrisome, and depressive aura from hovering over him like an invisible cloud. Nowhere near as bad as the anxiety his sisters caused him, but he found himself muttering a repetitive kolkolkol under his breath as he lumbered into the room. It couldn

[loyal_soldier]

This was just incredibly disconcerting. He'd already been subject to impossible forces here. The fact that he was alive after the destruction of the Death Star was proof of that in itself. He'd seen stuff that could only be described as magic here. But he'd never seen physical reality bent like this. It made no sense.

He watched Russia curiously, deciding not to speak until his destructive mood was finished. It would be easier to mention practical matters that way. Like making sure they were prepared for whatever was on the other side of the door the next time. They could easily end up in a guarded area, and he didn't know whether someone could just turn around and open up the door again as soon as it had shut. It didn't make any sense, but it felt to him that being able to rearrange the universe itself should take more than just a second or two.

He was used to feeling totally outclassed by everything else, but this was just so far from normal or even just hostile that he was fighting to not slowly pick up on Russia's mood. Hostile

[vodka_jump]

He toppled the chair easily, and knocked over a few more books, but managed to keep from completely losing it. He gave the desk a good kick though, but it only sent it less than a foot. Thing must be sturdy. Apparently content with the damage, he looked up at the sergeant, the same serene(or slightly deranged) smile returning to his face. Someone was toying with them. Someone really should have thought first before upsetting Russia. True, he could be volatile, dangerous, and erratic, but even so, he was also patient. And more than willing to wait if it meant finding the one responsible and punishing them slowly and thoroughly.

"It doesn't look like my things are here either," he said, voice strangely soft for his frame and recent temper. "Was there anything you wanted? Or should we keep going?"

[loyal_soldier]

622 waited, standing at ease. Well, he supposed that was one way to deal with stress.

"Nothing that I can see. Back through the door, then." Please, let it be somewhere useful this time.

[To here]

[simplemechanics]

[From here.]

Reeve didn't have a particular image in mind when he opened the door, but he did have a sense of scale. Subconsciously, he had noted measurements that this new room carelessly contradicted. It was only a small office, and not a very grand one at that, and the span of the wall outside dwarfed it. The plain room was completely out of place where it had been set, and Reeve felt himself growing irritated by the poor placement. It forced him to reconsider the floor plan he had begun to sketch out in his head.

"This is a ridiculous place for an office," he sighed. More upsetting than the poorly planned layout, however, was the state of the office. A chair was overturned, and books were scattered across the floor. Reeve picked up the nearest one and flipped through the pages, speaking on the topic of phobia. He quickly put it down, but not fast enough that he didn't feel chills.

"What city are we in?" He turned to his companion, to make sure Mihai had followed him.

[whichwayagain]

"It's more than just that." Mihai had indeed followed after Reeve, but paused just beyond the closed door--that he didn't remember closing, actually. Yet as he took in their surroundings, he focused more on the idea that they weren't where they should be at all, and not in the usual maybe I should have made a left back there sense. "This is completely wrong

[simplemechanics]

"I've never heard of that language," he confessed with obvious disappointment. "It's lucky that I ran into someone I can communicate with." It was looking less and less likely that he had ended up here by accident, or by the intervention of friends. But still, he could think of no reason why someone would go through all the trouble to hide him away in some distant hospital. He had no injuries, no illness, and so would have had to have been intentionally kept unconscious through the transport, which was unnerving. It was a lot of hassle for some executive, regardless of his illegal activities

[simplemechanics]

[To here.]

[falseblack]

[From here.]

Nigredo barely caught the sound of a closing door as the pair entered the office. Their first of the night, if he counted correctly. This area proved a bit more confined in regards to space compared to their last trips, and what arrangements he caught were disarrayed with near inhuman precision. It reminded him of a certain other's office, if everything had been tossed and turned and thrown aside.

Of course, he immediately hated it. "What a waste," the child murmured. Whoever was here beforehand either despised the room as much as he did or its owner with the same level of abhorrence.

[purpletaint]

What a waste was perhaps true. The mess that another had made was somehow comforting in it's chaos. The lack of comfort stemmed from an office, pure and simple. The last time he had been in one, he had felt almost nothing. A frightening sensation, almost wanted, almost breaking. He had no wanting for that now. And before that....

Memory flashed, of a different time, different place, different institute, and Albedo had no wanting to be here. He spared a glance but nothing gave any interest. The boy turned back, expression frustrated. "Let's try again."

[to here]

[deadlyjuliet]

[from here]

There was that sense of nausea again, but it was lessened this time. It hit like a wave, almost as if a carriage had taken an unfortunate dip in the road just a tad quickly, causing the stomach to bottom out and--

"Oh, for the love of all that's holy."

As soon as Grell opened his eyes, he felt his anger spiking again. Another office? Another office? And this one completely trashed. The chair was overturned, books lay scattered about, and the desk was slightly askew, meaning someone or something else had been in here before and it hadn't been too pleased with that.

But seriously. "Another office?"

What was it with the night and him getting royally screwed almost every time?

[doctorbadtouch]

He followed Grell without protest. If he was going to volunteer, he might as well let the shinigami play the role of designated meat shield. If he was destroyed, well, Muraki supposed he could still do something with the remains.

The chance of that, however, appeared to be extremely slim. The only thing either of them would be dying of soon was frustration. Or boredom. Literally. If this kept up too long, one of them was going to lose patience.

Once again, the door slammed shut behind him. Shoulders tense with repressed emotion, the doctor pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing slowly to fight down the combination of nausea and frustration. "Another office," He agreed, an unspoken profanity lingering over the words.

Trashed, but empty. Useless. Pointless.

Another fucking office.

Without another word, he yanked the door open and held it for the shinigami.

[link coming]

HOMEWORLD (backthreading): Death God Headquarters

[deadlyjuliet]

Muraki seemed to be reaching the end of his leash with these offices, too, and Grell clicked his tongue against his teeth quietly. If this was going to continue, perhaps he'd see Muraki's darker side. Or just kill the man and move on. Either way things would prove interesting for Grell at the very least and the death god moved forward when Muraki held the door open for him, tapping the chainsaw against his shoulder

Re: HOMEWORLD (backthreading): Death God Headquarters

[doctorbadtouch]

It was nearly impossible not to stumble blindly into the next room. He had no control over this kind of teleportation, so even if he anticipated it now, the sudden serge and shift still left him sick and disoriented. His hand had gone to his collar automatically, lips pressed into a thin line as the nausea faded. This time had been worse than the previous two, but at least he had manged to catch himself before he ended up stumbling into... Ah, what was this?

Enormous bone-white columns rose all around them, but he could neither see nor hear the faintest trace of life. It looked like a government building of some kind, the sort of place that could never be big enough to house the egos of the small men inside. Yet, there was an undeniable elegance to it, something naggingly familiar - something wrong.

Could he be more of a fool? Too late, he forced his attention back to the shinigami.

"...What?"Only to find he had been entirely forgotten. As Grell observed their new surroundings, Muraki observed Grell. His clothing had changed to