DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Nightshift 43: East Wing, Hall A [2nd Floor]
xxii ✈
constellates wrote in damned
[from here]

Alkaid thought about it for a second - what else to really say about her boring lifestyle, besides give him the plain and simple details? She wasn't sure he wanted to know, and she was kind of worrying a little bit about coming off like a normal high school student, like the rest of her peers. She was popular in her class, even though she poked her nose into books a little too often to really spend much time with others, but she'd always wanted to go above and beyond, show that she was stronger...

It was just stupid that she wasn't stronger IRL. And that she could never have such heroic adventures in Sapporo.

She poked him gently with her bat, smiling testily. Her mouth was watering. "And, besides, Mr. Private Investigator, you could have probably figured out what I do in real life by now. If you're that good. Hint: I'm honestly not really looking forward to going back to it."

This hallway was full of doors, so Alkaid was taking her time with walking; she didn't want to walk right past the place and have the eyepatch have to drag her back. And walking more slowly would keep her from alerting the proper monster authorities. Surprise attacks were the best!

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[Back from here]

According to her map, there were more storage rooms in this place. Though handy, Kuukaku wasn't going to be satisfied with just a first-aid kit. She needed at the very least a weapon, and maybe some inflammable materials. She walked over to the door of the room called the 'janitor's closet', assuming Gerad would follow.

"Locked, huh?" she muttered after trying the lock. The fireworks master glared at it for a moment before proceeding to kick it in. She had to wonder why anyone would bother locking it in the first place with such a seemingly weak lock.

"Nice work," Edgar remarked as he pushed the chair toward the now-open doorway. The two tanks clinked together, the sound of metal hitting metal ringing loudly in the quiet hallway. He stole a glance down the corridor- the hallway was empty, save for a couple of other prisoners and the specters that seemingly followed them. He turned his eyes away from the one that resembled his brother. He would not allow himself to be fooled. Not this time, anyway.

Deciding the chair might be hard to navigate through the room, he opted to leave it sitting outside the door. "I don't suppose anyone will mind if we leave this here for a minute while we have a look around," he said, pushing the chair against the wall with a heave. Even with wheels, those tanks were not light by any standard. "After you, milady?"

[From here.]

The second floor seemed clear tonight -- no signs of that thing that had possibly caused his body temperature to rise the last time Harvey had been here, either. The man's eyes narrowed as he shot a glance around just in case. He could hear some noise coming from his left, but it was far enough down that he didn't think it would be a problem.

However, as Harvey continued down the hall, he realized that there were two people standing right in front of the door that he and Jason needed to get into. Well, great. He realized that it would have been too easy otherwise, but that didn't mean he was ready to cooperate. On the other hand, having to negotiate would at least give him the chance to stop thinking about Rachel.

Once they got closer, he realized that one of them was pushing a chair around for some reason. He eyed it for a moment but ignored it, instead making quick eye contact with the two strangers. His appearance wasn't going to allow him to come across as friendly, but they didn't necessarily have to play nice. It was just a matter of seeing if they were after the same thing. Unfortunately, it looked like they had gotten the door open already, which technically meant that they should get first dibs. Not that Harvey was particularly inclined to play by the rules, but he wasn't going to force a conflict unless he had to.

"Looks like the janitor's closet is most popular than we thought," he lied, crossing his arms over his chest as he sent a casual glance back at Jason. He looked forward again, watching them coolly. "What are you two after?"

This wasn't so good. Jason sized up the two in front of the closet. Neither one looked like a pushover but they were unarmed - pretty much in both ways in the woman's case. He could take them in a fight and unless Two-Face was a complete pussy compared to the one Jason had met before, he'd be able to handle one on his own. But unless they killed them it could also blow their cover. Much as he wanted some action, he didn't want to screw over his chance to get back at Bruce and that could happen if they fought.

He'd let Two-Face do the talking for now, but if it came down to a fight he wasn't going to cry about it. If Bruce heard that he'd been travelling with Two-Face he'd just have to try harder to get him in place. It wouldn't be that difficult, Batman could be so predictable and Jason had more than enough leverage here. He may as well make use of the baby bird being around since he couldn't do anything about it.

With the new intercom announcement and the increased noise that came with it a fight began to look even more appealing. He wanted a distraction from the ways his guts clenched in (fear) agitation and standing around making nice wasn't going to cut it. Jason didn't bother hiding the machete he was carrying or try to look anything other than threatening, tension humming through him as he waited for confrontation.

The door gave away after a couple of kicks. "Like some damned door's gonna stop me," she answered to Gerad's comment, and she was just about two enter when two strange men suddenly approached them. The fireworks master narrowed her eyes as she watched them. One of these guys had a half-burned face, she noted. In any case, both punks didn't look like they were here for some lame tea party.

But Kuukaku wasn't easily intimidated. Like some cool tone or a machete was gonna scare her, anyway. Her eyes narrowed as she placed her hand on her hip: "And who the hell are you punks?!"

They got here first, so that meant she was going to ask the questions here!

Edgar took interest as the two men approached them- both looked like they'd seen rougher days than most people, especially the man with the burned face. He took a quick glance at the one man's bladed weapon- clearly, they were dressed for battle. He wasn't one to drop his guard entirely, but he also wasn't the type to start a fight where one wasn't necessary.

"What the lady means," he said, stepping to the side of the wheeled chair and giving an open-palmed gesture, "Is to ask who you two gentlemen might be. We've seen few souls around, especially in this area." Well, that wasn't entirely true- they had seen specters of some sort, but as they were likely conjured demons, they didn't have much valid standing in the count.

"As for us," he continued, "We're simply scavenging for supplies in some of these rooms. What about you?"

Neither the man nor the woman reacted much to his appearance. Oh, they noticed, but they didn't look particularly mortified. Harvey was surprised by that, if he had to be honest -- though when he realized that the female was missing an arm, her lack of response made more sense.

That didn't excuse her attitude, though. The man accompanying her tried to be diplomatic about it, but this negotiation hadn't gotten off to a very good start.

"It doesn't really matter who we are, does it?" Harvey shot back, and his tone was only a shade or two below hostile. "We're specifically looking for rope, so as long as you don't get between us and finding some, there shouldn't be a problem." If they started getting curious about why they needed rope, then things might get ugly. Still, Harvey would prefer that didn't happen, seeing how they would be better off if they stayed under the radar until tomorrow night.

The intercom and the unending screaming coming out of it had been bothering Harvey for a while, but then a sudden silence replaced it. He heard ragged breathing, as if someone was in distress. It seemed so familiar...

And then, her voice.

"They told me that only one of us was gonna make it..."

It took a lot of self-restraint for Harvey not to glare at the nearest intercom system. How could it be doing this? He had already seen her; he didn't need to hear her final words once again. They had run through his mind so many times already -- he had let them torture him. Hearing it so clearly once again--

But he had to keep his composure. He wasn't going to fall apart around these strangers -- or Jason, for that matter.

Oh yeah, Two-Face was one hell of a negotiator. Jason wouldn't have bothered with anything more civil himself but you'd think the man who up until recently - according to Dent - had been a successful DA would have had a bit more patience. But then, he had been Gotham's DA and Dent had probably been messed up long before his little 'acid trip' according to all of Bruce's stupid files.

This was going to get messy, the only question was how badly these two were going to get hurt. He could just let Two-Face shoot them in head and be done with it but he didn't think they deserved to die and if anyone happened to see them leaving the scene they'd have someone out for their heads. Besides, the woman in particular looked like she'd be worth a good brawl.

Jason didn't even bother pretending to be diplomatic, smirking as he addressed the pair. "I think what he meant to say was, are you going to get out of our way or do we have to make you?" He let the hand holding the machete hang loose and ready by his side as he moved away from Two-Face to give himself some room to move. He hoped she took the challenge, if they just talked it out he wasn't going to have any fun. Sure, he wanted to get the rope before the night ended. Tying Bruce up promised too much entertainment to pass up but that didn't mean he couldn't play now.

"Oi! Don't interrupt me while I'm talkin', got it?!" Kuukaku scolded to her traveling companion, obviously not pleased by the way he corrected her. The damned wheelchair was in the way, or she would've kicked him to emphasize her point. Either way, the fireworks master wasn't known for her diplomacy. More for her temper.

She redirected her gaze towards the other two. "If it doesn't matter, I wouldn't ask, dumbass!" she continued to scold, glaring at the guy with his face burned off before shrugging. "Che! I don't care about your damned rope, you punks can have it for all I care!"

And she simply didn't feel like dealing with any sort of crap while trying to find items, but there was one thing she apparently had to make clear. "But we got here first! If you're gonna cause trouble I'll kick both of your sorry asses, am I bein' clear?!"

She noticed the younger punk of the two take a step back as he shifted his weapon, and the fireworks master narrowed her eyes in response. "That also goes for you!"

The obvious threat the kid just made really didn't help things.

"The point I'm trying to make, milady," he said with a hint of irritation, "Is that there's no point in picking a fight with people who have a similar goal. They're looking for rope, we're looking for supplies, and we're all looking to get into that room. Bickering like children is pointless and time-consuming."

The inter-prison communication hissed again, its words sounding strangely familiar. The shade of his brother had disappeared, now replaced with one of his father, his face pale and sickly, his skin decomposing. He ignored both the speaker and the specter for the time being- now wasn't the time for distractions. Now was the time to move.

He purposefully turned away from them and walked to the open doorway. "I suggest we go ahead and find what we're looking for so we can be on our way again. You can be as volatile as you like to each other once we've done what needs to be done." With that, he stepped into the room, hoping his being in the room with the supplies would draw the others in.

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