damned_institute | Night 75: Underground Lake

Entry tags:

sechs,
taura

Night 75: Underground Lake

[From here.]

The moment Sechs felt his powers seep away from his grasp he knew they had entered Landel's territory. They must have been just below the institute grounds at this point. He and Taura would have to make the rest of their trek without any significant boost to their speed. Thankfully they seemed close to the end of the subway and before long the claustrophobic walls of stone and moss gave way to a grand cavern. They had reached the underground lake.

"So... This is that lake Marc and Sora were talking about!" Sechs remarked with a whistle, taking in the impressive scene before him. The cavern presented itself as a collection of environmental contrasts, an open yet oppressive landmark with unnaturally white sand set against impenetrable darkness. The central lake was but a black silent spot in the ground, nearly indistinguishable from a solid or a liquid. For all Sechs knew, it could have just been an enormous pit with no bottom or an expansive ring of black ice.

Such comparisons reminded Sechs of his M-U, causing his back to twinge and ache. Slowing down to a burdened shuffle, Sechs stepped off the rocky ground onto the eerily white sand. There he stopped to recover his energy, crouching down upon the sand with his crowbar supporting some of his weight. "Didn't think I'd be visiting this place from outside of the institute!" he panted, "Now we just gotta get across..."

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Taura's powers were entirely due to the body she'd been born with, and going to Farwell hadn't returned it. So she didn't feel anything other than dread at reaching the Institute. Walking back into a trap after she'd gotten out was one of the tougher things she'd ever had to do; she wanted this, and it was the right thing to do, but it wasn't easy.

"Did they say anything about how we can get across?" She was a strong swimmer, but she wasn't sure it would be a good idea to dip Sechs' wounds in dirty water, and it would definitely do bad things to their radios and flashlights.

The sand was too perfect, too; it was pure white, and almost seemed to glow, though that was the contrast with the water, and the fact that this body's eyesight was almost as keen as her own.

Edited 2014-04-18 02:24 (UTC)

Ahh, the dulcet tones of a new pair of patients. It was something that Charon couldn't resist, nor would he, seeing how this was his job and he might as well carry it out whenever given the chance. Considering how boring things were otherwise, playing with the patients was about the most excitement he ever got.

Pathetic? Maybe, but at least he had fun with it.

And so the boat slowly skimmed across the water toward the pair, appearing out of the fog, though Charon himself was laid down in it so that they wouldn't spot him at first.

A little spook was bound to loosen them up, right?

Frowning to himself and scratching his chin in thought, Sechs scanned the lake for an answer to Taura's question. "I think Marc mentioned something about a boat..."

And just as Sechs spoke, the aforementioned vessel made its appearance from the farthest and darkest point of the lake. It's approach was nearly silent, only giving out signs of its presence through the ripples it made in the once solid state of the lake's blackened surface. Once he spotted it, Sechs stood up and glared towards the direction of the incoming boat, his eyes narrowed as he tried to make out the small figure in the darkness. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it, something about the water-bound object made him a tad uneasy...

A few moments of watching past and the approaching shape came into clearer view. "There it is!" Sechs said once he saw that it was definitely a boat and not some sea creature out for blood. However, something still wasn't right about the whole thing. "I don't see anybody steering it though..."

"Neither do I..." Taura answered. An autonomous boat didn't seem strange to Taura, but it did feel out of place. She prodded the feeling as they watched it draw nearer.

The only other thing she'd seen that moved on its own at the Institute had been the stairs to the third floor, and all those had done was get them up to I.R.I.S. a little quicker. She remembered the jolt of fear-and-anticipation that had gone through her when the floor moved on its own, out of their control.

Ah. He liked giving them the illusion of control. Dancing to his tune, maybe even now, but with seeming free will. Giving them hope -- or rope to hang themselves. Maybe the two were one and the same. "I guess we just have to hope it's going our way."

As hoped, the boat did sail its way right up to the shore where Sechs and Taura were waiting, pausing when the front half rode up on the sand.

Before they could make any attempt to get in, however, there was a rattling sound and slowly but surely a spine and skull appeared as a living skeleton straightened itself up from the bottom of the boat.

The skull was fixed in an eerie grin and while it couldn't blink or move its mouth, a voice still came out.

"Well, here are some new faces. What're your names, kiddies?"

Sechs remained standing on the spot, his crowbar in hand, as he watched the boat smoothly glide its way to shore. There was still no sign of a driver -- or any sort of mechanism to propel it inside the windless cavern. No engine or autopilot computers... How did it get there by itself?

Cautiously curious, Sechs took a step forward to investigate the uncanny vessel. Knowing full well of the sort of "surprises" Landel liked to spring on his prisoners, Sechs couldn't allow the novelty of a self-guided boat distract him from possible danger. Frowning, Sechs stretched his neck out to get a better look. So far the boat still appeared empty--

-- That was, until a talking skull on a spine popped up like some morbid jack-in-the-box.

"URK--!" Sechs jumped back with a strangled yelp, staring wide-eyed at the skeleton with the frazzled look of a thoroughly spooked tiger. "THE HELL?!" Sechs' startled brain could barely register what was going on, all he knew was that for some reason or another, a freaky skeleton was talking at him! Then just as the skull finished its ghastly greeting, Sechs' dumbfounded alarm turned into shamefaced anger. Snarling, the former android reacted with the same measured reasoning of an indignant big cat -- by swinging his crowbar towards the skeleton's head--!

Clearly, this surprise was not well received by Sechs.

The boat drew nearer, seemingly empty. No humm of a motor, and the lake seemed still except for a few ripples. If it was being propelled, whatever was doing it was very quiet, and definitely invisible.

She was watching it closely, and still didn't spot the bones tucked under the edge.

Taura's golden eyes went wide when the skeleton popped up, but she held her ground. The stunner would be useless without flesh to attack, but the throwing star could and would break bone easily. That was, of course, if Sechs left anything alive.

Was alive even the right word? What was it? How was it moving? How was it talking?

"Taura," she said, since it had asked a question and it was only polite to answer, even as Sechs swung his weapon at it. Her voice didn't squeak. Barely.

It might have been Charon's intention to give the two patients a bit of a spook. He was a talking skeleton, after all! He had to play to his strengths.

But he figured that two tough guys like this pair wouldn't react so strongly, and so he wasn't prepared for the crowbar that came swinging right at his poor skull!

It popped off of his neck and he had to scrabble forward on his boat to catch it before it plopped into the water. Trying to wrest it away from those nasty souls hidden down there wouldn't be much fun.

His shoulders slumped as he affixed his skull back in place and then he straightened up again, pointing an accusatory finger at the one who'd assaulted him. "Some way to greet your ferryman! You'd better give me a pretty good reason not to sail off right now, kiddo!"

The crowbar hit its mark with a satisfying clunk sound, but to Sechs' disappointment it wasn't followed by any splash in the water. The Replica raised his weapon again, ready to finish off his target, but found himself taken aback once the skeleton started talking again.

"F-ferryman?!" Sechs stammered, eyes wide beneath his furrowed brows. He couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from curling with disgust as he watched the skeleton stuff its skull back onto its spine with an audible crack. It reminded Sechs a tad too much about the battered state of his own spine...

Shaking his head, Sechs forced his focus off the skeleton's exposed spinal column to make eye contact with it (or at least, look at where the eyes normally would have been...) "You're the ferryman?" he spluttered. "B-but..."

...Come to think of it, Marc had mentioned a ferryman, right? If he did, he sure missed out the detail about the ferryman's total lack of flesh!

Meanwhile, Taura's calm reply left Sechs feeling even more abashed about the situation. She didn't seem at all threatened and was taking everything better than he did. ...So they weren't in danger after all? Great. First he overreacts to a harmless spook and now it looked like the source of his brief fright was their only one-way ticket across the lake! "Well, geeze!" he growled with a pout, crossing his arms and turning his face to the side to hide his burning cheeks. "Excuse me for mistaking ya for one of Landel's henchmen! You just can't be too careful 'round here!"

Of course, he had to introduce himself too, violent first impressions or not. "And don't call me 'kiddo'! Call me Sechs!"

Taura was still trying not to stare. Mostly failing. She knew how awful that felt, like every glance was cutting right down to the bone. Um. Well, at least now she was trying not to giggle, and this time succeeding at keeping her thoughts to herself. Unless the Ferryman could read minds, but in that case, he was probably used to sifting through a lot of nonsense.

Besides, it had only been a rumor that anyone had managed to engineer that into people back home, though they hadn't managed talking skeletons, either.

She ignored Sechs' startled rant; she didn't think any less of him for being surprised, especially when he was still in a great deal of pain, but there wasn't anything she could say that would sound convincing rather than patronizing. So she turned to Charon and answered his question. "We're trying to find a friend. Is that reason enough?"

Charon might have stayed more upset if he wasn't so darn amused by how embarrassed this Sechs guy was for what he'd done. He laughed, the hollow sound echoing through the large cave around them.

"Hey, I asked for your name and you didn't give it! No need to get upset about it now." He shrugged his bony shoulders and then glanced over to Taura, who overall seemed much easier to deal with.

"A job's a job, and I'm here to do it. I guess I'll take you across." The question was, did he ask for a toll? Bah, they'd just pick smell anyway, and that was so boring he might as well expire on the spot.

He waved them into the boat. "Hurry up, now! Not gonna stay here all day." Except he was, because he was always here, but he could at least act like he was in a hurry.

The skeleton's laughter only agitated Sechs' sore ego. It wasn't that the uncanny ferryman was mocking the Replica (at least not with blatant insults or embarrassing nicknames), but all that eerie cackling sure made Sechs consider using up one of his three bullets...

Sechs didn't take the ferryman's invitation too kindly either, what with what just happened. How were they supposed to trust this odd skeleton man anyways? What if he turned out to be one of Landel's cronies? But if the boney stranger was the ferryman Marc told them about...

Taking a moment to think, Sechs grumpily scanned the cavernous lake, wanting nothing more than to find some other way around it or even just swim across. Anything but get screwed around with by this boney joker!

However, Taura's mentioning of friends was what kicked Sechs out of his grouchy rut. The Replica grumbled and sighed to himself, but he knew he had no other choice. Spooky ferryman or not, they couldn't afford to waste time getting back to the institute, not when people could be dying there...

"Ugh, fine!" Sechs finally growled, throwing his arms down and turning to face the skeleton. "C'mon, 'Cackle Bones'!" he nicknamed the ferryman as he clambered into the boat. "Let's get this done and over with!"

Edited 2014-05-05 01:09 (UTC)

For a moment, Taura was sure she was going to have to sit on Sechs to get him to stay in the boat. If she could even get him in it.

Funny, how having him so angry and frightened made her less so. Any fear evaporated as the boat captain became less strange as he huffed and blustered like any small-craft owner. She half expected him to ask for their credit chits and to fasten safety harnesses as well.

That wasn't to say he wasn't Landel's flunky, but if he was, he was no less a person than any of the others. Even the ones that weren't people to everyone. Like the Sphinx, who was somewhere down here, trapped and angry.

She wrinkled her nose to show her disapproval of Sech's nickname, and stepped into the boat. Carefully, since she was big and it was small, but it barely rocked at all. "We're in the basement, right?" She hadn't seen a lake in the basement, but that was where they were supposed to be arriving, and they were definitely still underground. "Do you know where we should go next?"

What the heck kind of nickname was that? Charon wasn't usually one to hand out his name so freely, but he'd rather be called that than "Cackle Bones."

"It's Charon," he corrected, shifting around in the boat as both of them got inside. There was more than enough space for all three of them, but he moved up near the front of his vessel and then gathered his row into his bony hands.

At least Taura had some sense to her, she was asking some questions that actually made sense. Though Charon still scoffed at that second one.

"Wherever the wind blows!" he said, almost singsong with his tone. "Nah, but you'll see where you are soon enough. Just hold your horses." He started to row, the boat pushing out into the water.

"Charon, huh?" Oblivious to the chagrin of Taura and the ferryman, Sechs agreed to himself that his nickname was more suitable for the skeleton -- or at least it was more amusing when paired together as a whole name. He smirked to himself, "Well, nice to meet ya, Charon Cackle Bones!"

As the boat drifted off through the murky water and left the eerily immaculate sand behind, Sechs felt some of his tension ease off. They were now another step closer to reaching their goal, and with a chance to rest while getting a free trip to boot as well! Sechs still kept a wary eye on Charon though, making sure the ferryman didn't suddenly decide to show his true allegiance to Landel before throwing them overboard...

Yet so far the coast seemed clear (no pun intended) as Charon guided their vessel through the calm waters. Relaxing slightly, Sechs shifted his focus away from Charon to take in the gloomy surroundings. For such a huge cavernous lake, it was quickly beginning to appear unnervingly claustrophobic as the distance between them and the white shore grew. Soon there was barely any light, nor any sign of the blackened' lake's edge. By then, the oily surface of the water merged with the surrounding darkness, giving the boat and its occupants the surreal illusion of being suspended in some starless space...

Sechs frowned to himself, bothered by yet another reminder of his past experiences with his M-U and recent visit with death. He turned his gaze away from the suppressive darkness and looked to Taura and Charon. "Well, while we're getting there..." Sechs said, keen on keeping any silence between them at bay. "How long have you been down here?" he asked the ferryman, impressed with how the skeleton could still be chipper despite the dank environment (or the recent crowbar-to-the-skull incident). "How'd ya get down here in the first place?"

The lake was black, but space was blacker; Taura felt oddly at home on the boat as it slipped across the water, and she watched the shore recede and the other one draw near. She hadn't seen anywhere like this in the basement, but there'd been several doors she'd never seen the other side of.

Landel's creatures were usually straightforward; if Charon said she'd recognize where she was, she believed him. It might be somewhere horrible -- the sand pit arena would be the worst of tricks to play on them, when she was fairly certain that was the cause of Sech's injuries and why he was so frantic to get back to his friends.

Sechs, on the other hand, was using chit-chat as a salve for anxiety. She had to admit she was curious, though. Was this man of bones some other myth, like the Sphinx? So she added her own question, without turning away from looking out at the water. "Does it get boring? Not that much call for a boat captain down here."

Charon preferred that they talk, no matter what dumb things might come out of their mouths. At least it was something to fill the silence, and so as he continued his slow, rhythmic rowing to propel the boat across the water, he considered their questions.

"Sure, it gets boring! And quiet. I find some monsters to play around with if I get too bored, usually, but spiders aren't very good poker players," he grumbled to himself. Was he joking? Probably, but he said it all as if he was completely serious.

"And you expect me to remember back that far?" he asked Sechs with a barked laugh. "I've been here as long as I can remember! Don't really got anyplace else to go." Believe it or not, a talking skeleton didn't have much place in the world.

Sechs blinked at Charon's answer, unable to stop himself from envisioning the skeleton trying to play a fair game of poker with many-handed spiders. Whether Charon was truthful or not, that comical image alone brought out a small snort of amusement out of the Replica.

Looking ahead, Sechs thought he could make out a sliver of white in the distance, but he was unable to tell if it was the shore ahead or just his light-deprived eyes tricking him. How much further did they have to go? Last thing they needed was to miss what was going on up in the institute because the lake took too long to cross. It made him wish Charon would speed up his rowing...

"Wait a sec--" Sechs turned his gaze back to Charon. "Y'mean you've been down here before the institute existed?" he asked with a perturbed perk of his eyebrows. "I thought Landel brought you here like everyone else..."

The opposite shore was closer than the one they'd left, if not by much, and Taura watched it draw near. Neither of the two men in the boat could see her smile as Charon spun his tales, but she did. If she didn't look at him, he seemed a lot like most of the mercenaries she knew; there was humor in everything, and the best bluff was a ridiculous story with just a hint of truth.

She still wasn't very good at it. But she could appreciate the art.

Sechs was like her; direct, and he drove to the heart of the matter. Was Charon one of Landel's victims, a co-conspirator, or something else entirely? And could they count on this as a way out if they needed one?

"How long has it been, really?" She knew what had been said -- seventy-five days, unless she'd lost track one of the times she'd overslept. That wasn't enough time, not for what Landel had built, and it was an awfully short time to have it all unravel on him.

Not that she was precisely complaining about the unraveling. Grabbing on with both hands, and teeth beside, and pulling as hard as she could.

The trip wouldn't take too long, all things considered. The lake wasn't particularly large, it was just completely impassable without a boat to ride on. Slowly but surely, more of the white shore became visible ahead of them.

They weren't really letting up with these questions, though, were they? "Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. Maybe I just showed up without warning." Whatever the true answer might be, Charon wasn't giving it.

"Time doesn't mean so much when you're dead, y'know!" he said with a chuckle. "But this has always been my job, ferrying people around, so I can't say I'm not used to it."

Maybe it hadn't always been here. Maybe he had once existed in another realm, the same as all of them, until he was whisked away to this place. Charon wasn't interested in sharing.

Sure enough, the white sliver in the darkness grew into a discernible coastline. Like spotting the finish line in a race, Sechs experienced a shot of adrenaline at the sight of the incoming shore. He could barely keep still in the little boat, the only thing that kept him from jumping out was his sore wounds. To think he could be this anxious to go back to the institute after having finally escaped felt sickeningly ironic to him. But his intentions weren't to willingly return as a prisoner -- he was coming back as a free warrior bent on destroying the place.

As the white shore grew clearer before them, Sechs chanced a quick glance above; for all he knew, the institute could be under siege above their heads right now... That thought caused his heart to skip a beat. The most important battle of their lives could just be ahead...

While Charon's answer didn't reveal any new revelations about the institute, it gave Sechs more reason to respect him. In a way, he reminded Sechs of the mute man behind the ghoulish bird mask; it was through that encounter that Sechs was given the cure to the illness Landel had unleashed on the prisoners not too long ago. They were both mysterious figures with threatening appearances, but in the end they proved to be unexpected allies. Out of Landel's population of monsters and cronies, could they have been the few to escape his control? He and Taura may never find out. Whether the ferryman was a prisoner, servant, or just neutral party, he was helping them cross the lake and that was all that mattered then.

Still, the idea of some dead guy ferrying boats in an underground lake for all time was a bit depressing to the Replica. "Y'know... Once Landel is gone, you could maybe go out and do new things?" Sechs suggested with some uncertainty. Just what kind of new things could a talking skeleton do out there anyways? "Or maybe you could start up some boating business for tourists down here?" he added with a shrug. Better than being alone with only bad poker-playing spiders for company -- at least that was what Sechs thought.

Taura knew that feeling -- she'd been born to be a soldier, and even if she hadn't turned out to be pretty good at it, she certainly wasn't suited to anything else.

But she'd had the choice. If she'd wanted to, oh, try out for the zero-G ballet, Miles would have hugged her and told her he'd see her when he was in the neighborhood. And he wouldn't have laughed. She wondered, sometimes, what he'd been born to do -- and what he was running from. Something, but she wouldn't ask. He'd tell her, or not, and it didn't matter.

The likelihood of tourists here seemed kind of low, but she didn't bother pointing that out. "This isn't the only lake on the planet. Or the only planet." Though being dead might be more of an obstacle, since she didn't know what was keeping him animated.

Sand hissed along the bottom of the boat; they were pulling into the shallows. They might be the last people to cross here, ever; she wanted to end it on a good note. "Good luck."

Were these guys really trying to give them advice about what to do with himself when this was all said and done? Charon hadn't thought too much about it before, but maybe he should start. He wasn't convinced Landel was going anywhere anytime soon, but still, Charon was bound to outlive him. He was eternal, whereas Landel -- well, who knew with that guy?

"A boating business!" He snickered and shook his head, his skull rattling around loosely. "Not sure most people would be too thrilled to have a guy like me taking them around." The patients only made use of him because they had no other choice, and usually Charon enjoyed taking a toll from them. That wasn't going to be a selling point in most places.

When the boat ran up on the shore, Charon set his oar aside and then moved out of the way so that both of them could depart.

"Pretty sure I should be telling you two chuckleheads that!" He doubted he'd ever be seeing them again, but this had at least given him some entertainment for the night.

Sechs had to restrain himself from openly cringing at the spine-wrenching sound of Charon's skull grinding against his vertebrate. "Hey, you never know!" he managed to reply despite his discomfort, "I bet some people out there would find a boat ride with ya pretty novel!" he said with an amiable shrug.

Just as he said that, the boat finally reached the other side of the lake, its front gently emerging from the ink black water before resting upon the bone white sand. Even with all his anticipation bubbling up inside his chest, Sechs found himself weighed down by his wounded body. Normally he would have sprung into action, but his sluggish muscles complained, already too comfortable from sitting down to be so eager for battle. Not letting that stop him, Sechs pushed himself up with the help of his crowbar and staggered off the boat.

Once on the sand, Sechs gave his wobbly legs a few kicks before stopping to survey this new patch of underground coastline. This side of the lake barely looked much different from the other coast, just another eerie contrast of pitch darkness and pale earth. Yet not too far away a shape of a familiar door could be made out against the ancient rock wall. Was that door the same one he saw in the grand ballroom? The last one to be opened after completing the coliseum's challenge...?

Seeing this gave the Replica another surge of adrenaline. He just about took off for the door, but not before saying goodbye to their unlikely helper. Sechs turned to Charon and gave him an appreciative nod of his shaggy head. "Heh! We need all the luck we can get!" he replied with a roguish smirk. "Thanks for the fine trip, 'Cackle Bones'!"

Not wanting to waste another precious minute, Sechs began making his way towards the door. As he jogged off, he suddenly remembered one last thing and looked over his shoulder towards Charon. "And uh... sorry 'bout... Y'know!" he called back, gesturing to his crowbar and head.

Might as well leave on good terms, right?

There was someone out there willing to pay for anything, you just had to find the right customer. And the right pitch. The problem came when it wasn't yours to sell, but Charon's labor was his own, so that wasn't an issue. Lots of people would pay to be scared. Or for the illusion of danger.

Taura didn't like to think much about what she and her siblings might have been sold for if they'd been a little bit longer-lived. She'd fought, and done some serious damage, but there was only so long anyone could fight. She had plenty left for this battle, though.

She tossed Charon a lazy salute, and fell in behind Sechs as he headed to the door. "We'll take it." They were going to need luck -- everyone here did. They'd need it just to find Sechs' friends -- he was certain they'd be there, but Taura wasn't. Too many people had disappeared in the past few days.

But she didn't need to let him know that.

They may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but these two had turned out to not be too bad. Charon still wasn't sure that people would really want to get boated around by a skeleton, let alone that they'd want to pay for something like that. He also didn't have much need for money, but if anyone wanted to temporarily give up one of their senses, that would be fun.

It was some food for thought, at least. Which was the only kind of food that meant much to him these days, so he appreciated it in his own way.

Not that he was going to let that show. He simply watched the two humans embark. "Hey, I told you, it's Charon!" he called out, his gravelly voice echoing in the large cave. Despite that, he chuckled to himself. "No hard feelings, but you better remember your manners next time! If not, I'm throwing you overboard!"

There probably wasn't going to be a next time, but Charon could play along.

Charon's echoing retort followed Sechs, bringing out a soft chuckle from him as he made his way through the darkness towards the door's faint outline. Even in such a dire situation, anything that could help ease Sechs' pain and anxiety was a good thing, especially now that he was but a few feet from the institute's door steps.

"Shit..." Sechs muttered to himself. "Didn't think I would willingly come back to this damn place..."

Staggering to a stop, Sechs scanned the looming door with his flashlight, illuminating its marble surface against the old craggy rock surrounding it. Akin to the white sand beneath their feet, the extravagant door was unnervingly out of place. Its luminous surface and gaudy embellishments clearly matched the basement's ballroom, but they couldn't be sure of where it would actually lead to. Staring at the door wasn't going to give them any answers, they had to open it to find out.

Readying his pistol for any ambushes from the other side, Sechs pressed his free hand against the door's cold surface and pushed it open...

[To here.]

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Night 75: Underground Lake

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ack sorry I thought I'd posted this

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No worries!

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