DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Night 49: Hall of Armor
[composed]
girlsandgadgets wrote in damned
[From here.]

It was bad enough that the wave of dizziness returned as Edgar stepped through the doorway, but he'd almost prepared himself for it in the event the door to the Music Room was enchanted as well. What he hadn't prepared himself for was the sudden appearance of light on the other side of the doorway. He was blinded briefly, squinting as his eyes adjusted from the suffocating darkness to the sudden light. Once able to see again, he was taken aback.

This certainly wasn't the music room.

Suits of armor- nine- lined the stone walls, the whole room illuminated by lanterns on the ceiling. Though familiar with several styles of armor, Edgar only vaguely recognized a few of the pieces as anything that he'd seen before. The armor itself only held his attention briefly; what the armor was holding was far more appealing.

"This isn't the music room," he said to Gren, taking a few cautious steps into the room, "but I can't say this is entirely undesirable."
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That terrible lurching transition wasn't getting any better the more it happened, and he didn't even need to look around to realize they probably weren't where they'd meant to end up. He braced himself for a moment against the wall near the door as he tried to get his equilibrium back, and took a look around, squinting a little as his eyes adjusted to the sudden illumination.

It only took a second to see what Edgar meant.

"Well, this would certainly solve our weapons problem." The suits of armor were a strange assortment, one of them even seemed to have a rifle similar to the model he'd used on Titan. "What do you think the chances are that we'll be able to take anything out of here?" As optimistic as he tended to be, even Gren couldn't help but think it had to be some kind of trap.

"Slim to none," Edgar replied casually as he approached the suits, eyeing the weapons held in their gauntlets: a sword, a partisan, a crossbow, a large drill, a few he didn't quite recognize... and then something he recognized very well. He approached a rough set of armor holding a chainsaw. Oh, how he missed his own tools.

He examined the weapon closely, getting as close as caution allowed. It was quite different from the one he'd built, but the basic idea was the same- a rotating series of blades, engine on the back, even a mask similar to his own dangling from one of the handles. It was a beautiful sight, but ultimately too good to be true. There had to be a catch.

"I'm wondering two things," Edgar said, putting a hand to his chin. "First, why would a room like this be here? It would have to be hidden well- surely not with the rest of the fake asylum." Was it even within the walls of the institution? Or was it somewhere else entirely? It crossed his mind that the room had perhaps been where the other weapons he'd seen people carrying originated. If so, why would Landel keep such a room accessible? Maybe that was all part of his game.

He came to the second part of his thought. "I also can't help but notice that some of the instruments look very... familiar. I told you I build weapons, right?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought." It would have been too easy, really. Ah, well. He was sure he'd get his hands on something to replace the flashlight as a means of protection eventually.

Feeling a little better, he followed Edgar into the room, looking at the suits a little more closely now. Some of the weapons were familiar (that really was a Heckler & Koch rifle, now that he looked at it) while others were pretty foreign looking to him.

"I don't know," he admitted. "It does seem pretty weird. And the architecture in here..." It certainly didn't look like the rest of the institute. Hell, it didn't look like anywhere Gren had ever been in his life. It was like a movie set someone had made painfully real. "It's either some sort of display hall, or..." He trailed off, not sure how to explain it. He had the weird sense that the room was just waiting, somehow.

"Yeah, you did." He walked away from the suit holding the rifle and towards the one Edgar was inspecting, arching an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you build chainsaws in your spare time."

Edgar glanced over his shoulder and Gren, grinning knowingly. "I suppose I won't tell you, then," he said, wagging his finger in a playful manner.

He took a step closer to the armor, listening for any traps, any sound of gears moving within the suit that'd cause it to spring to life. The situation wasn't to be trusted; at the same time, he couldn't help but want to experiment. After all, whether by intentional magicking or some strange string of luck, they were in a room full of weaponry that was beyond what he could cobble together with pipes, air tanks, and crude equipment... for now, anyway.

"Stand back," he said quietly, as if the armor were listening. "I'm going to see what happens when we try to pry one of these beauties from the suits."

For all that the evening (and the day preceding it for that matter) had been bizarre and disorientating, Gren found himself laughing at that, grateful that, at the very least, he was with someone who had a sense of humor. "Good. I can continue to feign ignorance, then." Honestly, he was impressed that Edgar was able to construct something like that. Everyone had their own unique talents, he supposed.

Gren took a few steps back towards the door they'd entered from, keeping a wary eye on the armor as he did so. He wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they suddenly sprang to life. He really hoped they didn't, of course, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. "Okay. Go for it." He steeled himself a little, waiting to see what happened.

Preparing himself to leap backward should he set off a trap, Edgar examined the weapon one more time, finding where he'd grab hold of it. He tucked his flashlight into his pocket, regretting he'd not be able to carry both at the same time. Moving quickly and staying on his guard could make all the difference if they were dealing with mechanical or enchanted armor. Having seen one of the abominations Landel had at his disposal just a few nights ago, he'd be surprised if there wasn't some sort of catch involved in a room full of weapons.

The machinist slowly put his hands on the chainsaw, first on the back handle, then on the bar near the chain, moving carefully so as not to jostle it and set off an alarm. After another moment, he took the opposite route, giving the chainsaw a heave. He stepped backward sharply, armor still unmoving, weapon in hand. He listened again: nothing. No reaction at all from the armor. Well, he was certainly surprised. He smirked, wondering if all that caution had truly been in vain.

He held his new prize a moment, swinging it back and forth, testing the weight and feel. It was similar in build to his own, though the creator had taken more care in the ornamentation than he had with any of his works: the engraved lines on the sides of the body, the leather grip on the handle- even the mask was beautifully polished.

Edgar couldn't help but smile now. He slipped into the mask with one hand, pushing it backward so it rested atop his head. "I suppose there's always the chance the armor could come to life as we try to leave," he said, eyeing the other door, "though I can't imagine anyone would believe it a good idea to let us take the weapons first. Do you want to try for anything? Or would you prefer to keep the light, in case we end up somewhere much darker?"

Gren tensed for a moment as Edgar removed the weapon from the suit of armor holding it, but relaxed again when nothing happened. From the way he handled the chainsaw and the smile on his face, Gren could tell his roommate was pleased with his acquisition. He certainly looked confident holding it.

At the question, he looked around the hall one more time, eyes lingering on the rifle for a moment before he shook his head. "I'll handle the flashlight," he replied. As much as he was sure of his ability to wield a gun, it was an impractical choice. Even if he managed to carry it out, the ammunition was limited, and he somewhat doubted he'd find any extra laying around somewhere. Nothing else in the room was something he'd want to try his hand at. And it was more practical, this way. If he took the rifle, neither of them would have a hand free for anything else.

"Which way now?" There was the doorway they'd entered through behind them, and another down at the end of the room. Not that it was likely to matter--he doubted either one was going to lead them where they were supposed to go.

Edgar looked to one door, then the other. "We came from that way," he said with a nod, "so let's see where this one takes us."

He walked toward the double doors, noting they were as ornate as the weapon he held. This room definitely had more significance than just being a weapons storage- the question was what that significance entailed. Despite the caution he carried as he gave the doors a push, he couldn't help but feel excitement stemming from the tool in his hands.

[To here.]

[From here.]

... That answered that question. It was almost enough to make Zero expect that the trigger for the sudden jumps in location were for those making them to expect them the absolute least, but trying to figure out the logistics of that was enough to make him discard the idea as quickly as it had occurred to him. It was better not to question it, anyway; he had gotten his wish. They were back at the institute, or else... that was what he assumed.

He took a moment to tug his cape into a more natural position around him and check that he still had his gun (which he did, thank goodness) before looking around, his gaze lingering on each suit of armor as he took in the entire room. What was this place? "N-1, N-2, do either of you recognize this location?" he asked, glancing back at them. They couldn't linger, of course, but his two guards would require just enough time to regain their equilibrium after that unexpected jump that he thought he might as well take advantage of it.

Heat took stock of the area, narrowing his eyes. He didn't say anything at first, as the hand-cannon held by one of the armored suits caught his attention. The demon pulled it easily out of its grip, examining the barrel curiously.

"No," he finally answered. "But I think I know where it might be." It wasn't his weapon, but it could be useful. Not that he'd had much need for guns like this after the virus, but he'd still brought it out every so often - like whenever they found Omoikane in the Junkyard. Annoying little bastards.

He glanced back up at Zero. "Last night I was brought to some level of the Institute below ground." Against his will, no less. "This kinda reminds me of that. Might be in the same area."

That probably wouldn't help them get any closer to the girl their leader was looking for, of course. She was on the second floor as far as they knew, unless she'd moved since then. Who knew, with everything that was going on? Their only real option was to keep moving, for all the good that had done them so far. And still he hadn't seen a single monster.

Edited at 2010-06-03 09:56 am (UTC)

[Sorry for the hangup, guys! I swear I'm done being sick now D8]

Well, now they were somewhere totally different that he didn't realize. He didn't know if that was a step in the right direction or not, but at least it was a change of scenery.

"No clue where this is, but--Hey!" Beelzemon was completely and irrevocably distracted the moment he saw a real sawed-off shotgun that one of the armor suits was holding. He pried the thing out of its grip and looked it over, a big grin spreading across his face. Fully loaded and everything! Suddenly, he didn't care where they were. Could have been inside the D-Reaper, it didn't matter because now he had a gun!

... His laptop was gone, wasn't it. Zero did a double-take, not quite believing his eyes at first, but with how eagerly and easily N-2 was pulling that shotgun away from the suit of armor, there was no mistaking it. Damn it, of all the stupid-- he'd told him not to lose it!

He closed his eyes briefly, then turned away again, examining the room for a split second longer before heading back to the door. No, there was no real sense in blaming N-2, he supposed; for his laptop to have vanished into thin air like that, there had to have been some other force at work. A side effect of the sudden jump back to the institute, perhaps? Another way for the Head Doctor to toy with them? Why the gun had traveled with them instead was therefore something of a mystery, but perhaps because it was of a relatively simple construction... he would need to think on it further later. For now, they had to keep looking.

He threw his arm out in an expansive gesture to get his guards' attention, holding himself as straight as he possibly could against the rapidly increasing weight of his despair. Nunnally-- if he didn't reach her soon, then-- "Come. We must go." No time for his usual magniloquent speeches. They should have reached her by now, and he couldn't--

He opened the door and stepped through.

[To here.]

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