A Multifandom Asylum RPG

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Night 52: M41-M50 Hallway
full_score wrote in damned
((From M44.))

His dinner had probably been one of the more uneventful ones in awhile, but that suited Claude just fine. After hearing about his father's release and running into his mother today, he had a lot on his mind. And that wasn't even touching on all the after effects of his sleep studies that he knew would probably follow him for a long time to come.

Being left to his own devices for a little while wasn't such a bad thing sometimes, because it meant he'd had enough time to sort through his thoughts long enough to keep them from getting in the way when he hung out with friends later. That was why Claude didn't waste any time moping around as he prepared for the night. While going through his things, he was pleasantly surprised to find that his jacket had been returned to him, neatly folded along with the rest of his uniform. Since he'd been unable to check before tonight because of his previous condition, he'd just assumed that it'd been lost on board the Calnus. At least that was one thing that was back to normal now...

Speaking of his Federation uniform, he hadn't forgotten about the phase gun, either. Even if he wasn't sure whether it would be of much use within the institute, Claude had no intention of leaving it lying around his room, either. He slipped it into the inside of his jacket, just as he'd done on his first official away mission all that time ago. His heart ached with something he couldn't quite name, but he pushed that aside for now. He had other things to do.

There was also the ring Guy had found for him to consider. Upon closer inspection, he was able to admire the craftsmanship of the piece of jewelry for what it was, even if he knew it hadn't been given to him to wear as some kind of accessory, or even as an aid in battle. But if what he'd heard was to believed, that jewel was capable of transporting him to the last place he'd been before the Calnus -- wherever that had been, exactly. Maybe it'd come in handy at some point. Claude slipped the ring onto his right hand and collected the rest of his things.

He didn't need to waste much time. After the last few days, Claude had a renewed appreciation for all the possibilities a new shift could bring. He didn't have to sit in his room with a couple of cold compresses taped over his eyes. That was always something to be grateful for.

With that thought, he pushed the door open and slipped out into the hall.

((To here.))

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Not only was there the chance that Depth Charge's friend had disappeared, but the nightly announcements were even more ominous than usual. Well, ominous or not, something had to be done- any friend of Depth Charge was a friend of the Scarecrow, and he wasn't about to let the Wizard Landel get away with taking another person for the Sleep Studies or Special Counseling. There had to be something they could do!

The Scarecrow took another bite of his meal, fiddling with his flashlight a moment. Clicking it on resulted in only a weak flickering of light, followed by nothing. Uh oh. It had been acting as though he needed to replace the batteries again, but he didn't have any more- even the used set from his first outing was gone.

Digging around the bottom of the drawer in the hopes he'd simply missed an extra set of batteries, the Scarecrow's fingers ran along something else: the knife his roommate had given him. Even though Depth Charge had intended the former strawman to protect himself with it, he'd yet to carry it with him at night- he wasn't sure he'd know what to do with it when the time came, not having a brain and all. He pulled it from the drawer and examined it a moment before returning it to its spot, glancing over his shoulder guiltily. Another night where he'd decided he shouldn't carry the knife, protection or not- there was probably a reason Depth Charge wanted to keep an eye on him.

Edited at 2010-10-16 05:37 am (UTC)

The lights went out with the usual impenetrably vague threat and Depth Charge's eyes flashed around to meet the Scarecrow's. "Showtime."

Almost instantly, he whipped the two-way radio up to his mouth and pressed the button. For a second he might have hesitated while he worked out what to say- and how to say it. Last thing he wanted to do was advertise the fact he'd been concerned at all. She'd eat him alive next time they met. If she picked up at all. In the end, he settled on a firm but bored tone, just loud enough to be heard from her desk drawer. "Hime? You there?" He released the button.


Heart beating a staccato in the quiet, he tried again. "C'mon, Hime, don't screw around. Pick up."

Still nothing.

Which meant... the Maximal shook his head abruptly. No time for guessing games. Turning to the Scarecrow where he stood by his desk- looked like he wasn't the only one whose flashlight was dying on him- he gave an impatient (and slightly anxious, not that he'd admit it) sigh. "She's not answering. Gonna have to chase her up person." He paused. "Last chance to back out. I won't hold it against you if you stay." With that, he snatched up his shears (slag it, dropped the crow bar last night) and made for the door.

[to here]

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