Nightshift/Day 16 - M23 and outside in Hall M1
A walk usually worked at soothing his frayed temper. Usually.
And when Gojyo decided that Goku had to join him in some moronic contest or another (Sanzo couldn't be bothered with the specifics), it only succeeded in further destroying his patience. Gojyo wasn't getting the hint either. That or he was outright ignoring the threats the monk made at him. The roach really didn't care that much about seeing another morning, did he?
Sanzo had wasted so many bullets on these idiots. It was fucking unbelievable. And right now, he was running low. They had left the last town a few days ago: at best, it was a little shithole in the middle of nowhere. Until he could reach a bigger town, he'd have to conserve . It irked him to let their dumbass behavior slide this time, but he couldn't afford to waste more until they got to a gunshop.
So the monk had opted for the only other option. He'd shot to his feet, aimed a kick as best as he could at the kappa and headed for the clearing's end, away from the camp.
Goku might've called out for him, but Sanzo ignored it this time. He kept on walking. The darkness was quickly swallowing him as he walked away from the camp fire, and soon it was just him, the somber greys of the tree trunks and starlight peeking through the canopy of leaves above, and the few animals that remained in this part of the forest....
So suddenly waking up to a dark room, lying on something that was decidedly not-ground was very disconcerting. With a creak of springs, he pushed himself off the bed. The confusion he felt at this new development was followed closely by a sense of rising apprehension. They'd been miles from the nearest town. So how the fuck...?
Sanzo chanced a glance downward, and bit back a curse.
His usual robes were missing, replaced by a strange uniform. He'd them on last night. The robes weren't even the main issue here: he could get them replaced, probably even the Three Aspects' card as well. But the Smith & Wesson was in one of those sleeves. So were his cigarettes, and...
The sutra was gone. It wasn't rolled up in a neat bundle and placed in a nearby drawer by Hakkai. It wasn't lying crumpled on the floor as Gojyo's makeshift pillow. It wasn't on his shoulders.
It was fucking gone. He didn't remember even being attacked, unless....
No, this wasn't Zakuro's style. He favored theatrics: floors made of skulls, torches, anything that reeked of the melodramatic. He couldn't resist gloating either, so the priest was very sure that he wasn't involved with...with whatever the hell was going on here.
Sanzo took a deep, shaking breath. He could manage without the others. He could manage without a gun, to a point. Without the cigarettes, maybe. But losing the sutra was just....
Another deep breath. He'd lost the other sutra already. He wasn't about to lose this one. It was just a matter of tracking down the bastard who'd managed to actually lay hands on it, and kicking the crap out of them. Then introducing a bullet into the asshole's brain. They couldn't have gotten far. He was still alive. He could still do something.
Sanzo stood up. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and he could see that the room he was in was sparsely furnished with a desk, a dresser and the bed he was on. It certainly wasn't what he'd expected from a youkai prison. No wallowing in filth, no chains or restraints, and no demons crowding around to boast of how they'd managed to capture one Genjyo Sanzo, and did they really need him alive or dead for the full payment from Gyumaoh's side, because they'd heard that monk's flesh granted immortality...
Well, maybe there were little miracles left in the world. At least he'd been spared that.
The monk began searching the drawers. He quickly came up with a pen and a journal (useless, at the moment), and a flashlight, but little else.
What prison even allows a prisoner these kind of things?
Sanzo had to wonder about that. He glanced at the door. If whoever ran this prison(?) was this lax...
Almost as if in answer, the lock clicked open. Sanzo only raised an eyebrow at that. Things apparently weren't as they seemed. He'd have the chance to find out more about this place, and look for the sutra while he was at it. Taking the flashlight, he cautiously pushed the door open, and looked out into the hall. As far as he could tell it as empty.
He hated to admit it, but his eyesight wasn't as good as the rest of his groups'. It was like staring into a void. Sanzo couldn't help but catch the sense that there was something seriously wrong with this place....
Perfect. Just perfect.
And when Gojyo decided that Goku had to join him in some moronic contest or another (Sanzo couldn't be bothered with the specifics), it only succeeded in further destroying his patience. Gojyo wasn't getting the hint either. That or he was outright ignoring the threats the monk made at him. The roach really didn't care that much about seeing another morning, did he?
Sanzo had wasted so many bullets on these idiots. It was fucking unbelievable. And right now, he was running low. They had left the last town a few days ago: at best, it was a little shithole in the middle of nowhere. Until he could reach a bigger town, he'd have to conserve . It irked him to let their dumbass behavior slide this time, but he couldn't afford to waste more until they got to a gunshop.
So the monk had opted for the only other option. He'd shot to his feet, aimed a kick as best as he could at the kappa and headed for the clearing's end, away from the camp.
Goku might've called out for him, but Sanzo ignored it this time. He kept on walking. The darkness was quickly swallowing him as he walked away from the camp fire, and soon it was just him, the somber greys of the tree trunks and starlight peeking through the canopy of leaves above, and the few animals that remained in this part of the forest....
So suddenly waking up to a dark room, lying on something that was decidedly not-ground was very disconcerting. With a creak of springs, he pushed himself off the bed. The confusion he felt at this new development was followed closely by a sense of rising apprehension. They'd been miles from the nearest town. So how the fuck...?
Sanzo chanced a glance downward, and bit back a curse.
His usual robes were missing, replaced by a strange uniform. He'd them on last night. The robes weren't even the main issue here: he could get them replaced, probably even the Three Aspects' card as well. But the Smith & Wesson was in one of those sleeves. So were his cigarettes, and...
The sutra was gone. It wasn't rolled up in a neat bundle and placed in a nearby drawer by Hakkai. It wasn't lying crumpled on the floor as Gojyo's makeshift pillow. It wasn't on his shoulders.
It was fucking gone. He didn't remember even being attacked, unless....
No, this wasn't Zakuro's style. He favored theatrics: floors made of skulls, torches, anything that reeked of the melodramatic. He couldn't resist gloating either, so the priest was very sure that he wasn't involved with...with whatever the hell was going on here.
Sanzo took a deep, shaking breath. He could manage without the others. He could manage without a gun, to a point. Without the cigarettes, maybe. But losing the sutra was just....
Another deep breath. He'd lost the other sutra already. He wasn't about to lose this one. It was just a matter of tracking down the bastard who'd managed to actually lay hands on it, and kicking the crap out of them. Then introducing a bullet into the asshole's brain. They couldn't have gotten far. He was still alive. He could still do something.
Sanzo stood up. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness now, and he could see that the room he was in was sparsely furnished with a desk, a dresser and the bed he was on. It certainly wasn't what he'd expected from a youkai prison. No wallowing in filth, no chains or restraints, and no demons crowding around to boast of how they'd managed to capture one Genjyo Sanzo, and did they really need him alive or dead for the full payment from Gyumaoh's side, because they'd heard that monk's flesh granted immortality...
Well, maybe there were little miracles left in the world. At least he'd been spared that.
The monk began searching the drawers. He quickly came up with a pen and a journal (useless, at the moment), and a flashlight, but little else.
What prison even allows a prisoner these kind of things?
Sanzo had to wonder about that. He glanced at the door. If whoever ran this prison(?) was this lax...
Almost as if in answer, the lock clicked open. Sanzo only raised an eyebrow at that. Things apparently weren't as they seemed. He'd have the chance to find out more about this place, and look for the sutra while he was at it. Taking the flashlight, he cautiously pushed the door open, and looked out into the hall. As far as he could tell it as empty.
He hated to admit it, but his eyesight wasn't as good as the rest of his groups'. It was like staring into a void. Sanzo couldn't help but catch the sense that there was something seriously wrong with this place....
Perfect. Just perfect.