batmanschmatman | 118 [spam]

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118 [spam]

[Open Spam for the Hallways, Backdated to before the flood ended]

[As messed up as it was, Dick was actually really enjoying this flood. You could spend as much time as you wanted in the gym here, and it still wasn't quite the same as actively running a gauntlet where you risked serious injury and/or death if you weren't fast enough, and he'd run the sims in his danger room facility enough that it wasn't really a challenge anymore.

This was different, and he really needed the distraction for the time being, so instead of staying put and waiting the flood out in his room, he'd been roaming the hallways aimlessly, dodging darts and spears and moving floor tiles and sudden narrow, practically invisible bridges stretched across sudden vast gaps in the floor. It wasn't exactly normal, but it was something he could do to keep his mind active and not wallow, and it never hurt to brush up on how to not get yourself killed.

At the moment, the hallway he was walking down seemed more or less normal (for the flood, anyway), with well worn bricks that looked vaguely Egyptian, maybe, or at least something that seemed at home in the desert lining the walls and floor. It was dark, and he'd reached into his jacket pocket for a mag light, carefully sweeping the light methodically over the corridor, checking for any traps. There were markings on the floor, and he crouched down to look at them, carefully tracing a finger over one of the characters. Definitely not Egyptian, then. Nothing he recognized, actually, which meant maybe this was some kind of space Egyptians or from another culture or something else entirely, and it was those thoughts that distracted him a little bit as he stood up and carefully continued his way down the hallway.

... Only to have the floor drop out from underneath him. He dropped the flashlight with a surprised shout, and it rolled down the hall and bounced off a corner of brick, illuminating the opposite wall. Dick caught himself before he actually fell, whacking his chin on the floor and grunting a little as he tried to reorient himself. He could pull himself up pretty easily, but he wasn't sure if the rest of the floor was booby trapped or not, and with footsteps coming down around the corner, and a shadow suddenly appearing on the wall the flashlight was lighting up, he figured a head's up to whoever was coming was probably necessary.]

The floor's a little unstable over here. Just a friendly tip.

[ooc: Multiples welcome! I'm assuming this is after Kirk and Shego have left timeline wise but am otherwise very flexible. c:]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hey, you never know when it might come in handy.

[He stopped briefly when he heard her swear, making sure he wasn't going to slip either and carefully shining the light up the shaft to see how much farther they had to go.]

Are you okay?

Edited 2012-08-29 22:18 (UTC)

I'm fine. Just slipped for a -

[She hears something below her, like a mechanism whirring into action, and strains to look down over her shoulder. Below them, the tunnel has been capped at the base, and she sees the gleam of sparse light on shards of black glass. It feels like they're a lot further up than they were a moment ago.]

Oh good.

Well, I guess this is what we get for wanting the tougher option.

[Dick keeps shining the light up at the ceiling, squinting, trying to see if there are any openings in the side of the wall they can eventually get up to and hopefully get out of this tunnel thing.]

Any chance you've got a spare jumpline on you? [He does, but he's not sure it'll cling to the glass well, and he's not testing if it can hold his weight when they can't really see how far up they are or how far down they have to fall.]

[She's pulling a face even though he can't see it.]

Kinda.

[As in, not to hand this second but she can grow one in a hurry.]

Think we're going to need it? I can stick this out a little longer.

Nah, I'm good for a while longer. [And he's going to start moving again, still careful, but maybe a little more confident now that he knows how best to maneuver this.]

I just wish we had a better idea of how much further we're going to have to go.

[And that weird noise is getting louder, so.]

I'd be happy just to be sure of where we're going to be when it's over.

[She looks up, squinting, but she can't see much beyond Dick's silhouette and the glass walls.]

What is making that sound?

[Dick hoists himself up a little more and then stops, straining to listen and- yeah, it's definitely starting to sound familiar, and although he knows it's not likely, there's a definite thought of "please don't let this be happening again", because the last time he heard this, well. Things had kind of majorly sucked.]

It sounds like rats.

So our choice is up into rats or down into a pit of broken glass?

[Cold metal threads swarm over her arm and encase her shoulder and she is not going to complain about that at all.]

Next time we're going outside. No - next time we're not leaving my cabin.

Sounds like a plan to me. I'm sure we've got enough movies and whatever to keep us entertained for a while.

[He's less bothered by the rats and more concerned about the broken glass, honestly, because while they're both pretty capable of dealing with stuff like this, climbing straight up like this is going to tire them out sooner rather than later, so he just keeps moving.]

They hopefully won't be too much of a problem. At least it's not snakes.

At least.

[Her legs are really starting to ache now from the pressure of keeping them braced against the glass; her shoulders are sore and her neck feels like it's been at an unnatural angle for too long. After this she's just going to shower for an hour or two and then sleep, maybe until the end of the flood.

After a few more paces, though, she realises she's actually putting more weight on her feet than on her arms and the tunnel is very, very slowly starting to level out, which is an incredible relief right up until she sees something dark and beady-eyed darting over the glass, and she knows it's the first of many because since when did the Barge do anything by half measures.]

[Dick puts the flashlight down before dragging himself up, trying not to think too hard about the sound of claws clattering over the tunnel floor and the squeaks. He stops pretty close to the edge of the tunnel, giving Sara enough room to pull herself up, and tucks the light back under his arm before reaching into his jacket and pulling out a flare. The rats in the innards of the ship hadn't liked fire, and he knew regular ones didn't, either, but. It was hard not to remember glowing red eyes and an almost sentient malevolent force calling the shots.

He lights the flare and lets out a relieved breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when he saw they weren't about to be attacked by a swarm. There were a lot of them, more than you'd want to see on the Barge, but he'd been in sewers that were worse, and they could get through it.]

It's not exactly a torch but I've got a couple of these, it should hopefully last us a while.

Good.

[Finally the tunnel levels off enough that she feels she can safely unbrace herself, hunkering down a little because there's still not enough space to stand upright, and she wants to drop to her knees just from exhaustion - but like hell she's doing that when the rodent procession is getting steadily denser.

There's another noise now below the clatter of claws on glass and the rustling of matted fur, like a dull continuous roar.]

You think they might be running from something?

Starting to look that way.

[But he's going to keep moving forward anyway, because, well. Moving was better than letting yourself get cramped up and their other option was still falling down a tunnel into broken glass. A rat ran over his foot and he swiped at a few others with the flare.]

I think I owe you an apology for not realizing how potentially suicidal this was.

Don't sweat it. It's not like we know outside's any -

[The rats are actually obscuring her view of the floor now, squeezing between her feet and running over her boots. The occasional squeak and chitter in the tunnel ahead has become a constant buzz of panicked squealing, and after another half-second it becomes clear why.

The roar resolves itself into the sound of rushing water, surging under pressure, and then it hits like a hammer blow. In less than a second there's absolutely no friction to be had, nothing to cling onto, and barely even space to drag in a breath. She feels her feet leave the floor and her body's hurled backwards into the current.]

[Dick's lucky he didn't inhale a lungful of water, but it's still not enough warning to prep for this, and the flare is gone, the best hope they have for figuring out where the hell they are is the flashlight, and he tries to stay calm as he hits the opposite wall - remember your training remember what Bruce taught you where's Sara don't panic don't panic don't panic can't breathe - and he fumbles for the light, trying to orient themselves before they run out of oxygen, flailing around in the almost darkness for Sara.]

[Sara's heels skid helplessly against the floor a couple of times, but there's no purchase, and a heartbeat later she's back in the vertical shaft and there's nothing except a long drop and a lot of glass to get minced against - oh, and she's basically blind and lightheaded from lack of air.

It's at this point that the 'all-purpose safety belt' aspects of her nonhuman life partner kick in. She hears shattering glass as long sharp spines reach out, anchoring her into the sides of the tunnel, and she feels herself come to an abrupt halt. Now she's being held in place against the rush of the water it's painful, tearing at every inch of her not covered by armor, but - better than broken glass. She reaches out blindly for Dick, knowing the tunnel isn't wide enough for him not to at least snag her on the way down.]

[Dick's free hand finds her arm and he holds on, tightly, but that's about all he's good for at the moment, with the water pressing down on them and the fact that he can't breathe. Still, he tries to focus, push past the light headedness, ration the rest of the air, and tries to bring the light up, trying to figure out what the hell they were supposed to do now and where they even were.]

[She clings tight onto him, trying to think through the pressure and the dizzying lack of air - if she was on her own she could probably climb through this, or smash open the walls of the tunnel and let the water out faster, but she's not risking Dick's life in the process.

She feels her throat spasm and she knows that any moment now she's going to take a breath and fill her lungs with water; white spots dance under her closed eyelids and suddenly the rush of water passes and it's gone.

Serendipitous.

She seizes in a huge gasp of air, her whole body heaving under the armor.]

[Dick coughed violently, shaking his head and trying to orient himself, take some of the weight off Sara and the Witchblade, but not letting go, either. He knew he was close to hyperventilating, and consciously tried to calm down, taking slower, deeper breath and shaking his wet hair out of his eyes.

His voice was strained and quiet once he'd gotten his breathing even enough, and he glanced up at Sara.]

You okay?

Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay.

[It sounds less 'okay' and more 'I've brushed death harder than this'.]

You?

[She reaches out with her free hand and the jumpline she mentioned kinda-having extends, snaking around the curve of the tunnel, and somewhere up above there's the sound of breaking glass as it anchors in.]

About the same.

[There's some humor forced in there, even though he still feels lightheaded and exhausted. He glances up to see what the Witchblade's doing, still breathing slowly and evenly.]

Serves me right. I think I need to just give in and carry the full utility belt with me.

Nobody would judge you for it.

[And nine times out of ten she would flip out and try to resist the Witchblade doing anything without her explicit urging to do so, but when it retracts from the walls and starts to winch them up she's so sore and light-headed that she just kind of lets it happen and hopes Dick'll assume she's the driving force behind it.]

[He's more or less too out of it for the moment to care, more focused on the fact that he can breathe again, and while he doesn't really understand the Witchblade as much as he'd like to, but he does trust Sara, and so he doesn't say anything, just holding on and hoping wherever they end up, it's solid ground.]

[Their second trip along the tunnel takes less than a minute; there's a seam where glass ends and stone begins, and it's flat and solid and perfect. Sara keeps shivering as the cold armor starts to retract, partly because she's soaked with freezing water and partly because the damn thing on her arm can't save her life without half her clothes being forfeit. She's going to have to ask the Admiral to treat the contents of her closet like the contents of her bathroom cabinet and replenish it once a month.

She opens her eyes for a moment, just long enough to establish that they're on the first floor, then shuts then again and just concentrates on breathing and maybe at some point she'll actually get up.]

[Dick isn't really interested in doing much more than breathing right now either, although there is a part of him that's still listening for any other signs of oh my god, we might die.

But there was nothing, and after a good minute or so though, he pushes himself up and, seeing Sara's predicament and the fact that she's shivering pretty badly, he quickly shrugs off his jacket - it's wet, but it's better than nothing - inching closer and handing it over]

Here.

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