damned_institute | Night 60: Underground Lake

The first time they teleported to the underground beach, Anise had been thrown off her feet. This time, she was ready for the shift to more uneven ground, and managed to keep standing with only a slight wobble after the transition. She looked around with a small smile, glad to see the others made it safely too.

Guy's words were answered with a firm nod, and Anise started walking after him. So it was already time to meet the skeleton...

"It's my turn, right? I should probably go with..." Her voice trailed off. With her flashlight still tucked under her arm, she was able to bring her fingertips to her throat. It was going to be weird for someone as talkative as Anise to go a whole night without talking. But sight was out of the question, and hearing would make it hard to follow group plans or notice danger. "Well, it's just for a little while, so I guess it's okay!" she quickly added on a lighter note.

As nauseating as the sudden shift could be, the transition wasn't as jarring this time around. Claude's feet sunk into the sand as he quickly regained his balance, and his eyes readjusted to the dark, moist cavern. He had a feeling they'd warp here several times more in the future, so it was probably just as well that he was starting to adjust. Glancing at both of his friends, Claude was relieved to find they'd made it here along with him.

Even though none of them likely wanted to deal with the ferryman again, they needed his boat to cross the water. Claude moved beside Guy and Anise, his grip tightening on his sword in case something ambushed them.

All this toll talk irritated him, though, especially after last night. "That's not fair, though," he sighed, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice. "I mean, we didn't even make it across the lake. Of course, I guess that won't mean much to this guy, but..." Well, he could dream.

It was then that something occurred to him, and his gaze snapped over toward Anise. "But besides that, shouldn't I be the one to pay this time?" Claude pointed out. "We never got to any doors, and my sense of touch came back just fine this morning, so it's not like I really had to pay anything in the end." To be honest, he'd expected to take the toll again, since he'd hardly kept last night's long enough for it to be an inconvenience to himself. It didn't seem right to foist the responsibility onto Anise when he didn't think he'd shouldered his fair share of the burden.

It didn't take them long to cross the sandy area and reach the docks, although Guy made sure to move his flashlight around them in case the ferryman decided to ambush them again. It didn't seem like the skeleton meant them any true harm. Instead, he just liked to string them along and trick them. That didn't mean that Guy wanted to be startled, though. Still, the ferryman was their only way across, which meant they had to be at least somewhat polite. It was a good thing that Guy had some experience with being civil toward people he didn't like.

He wasn't that surprised that Claude was bringing up how they hadn't gotten anywhere last time. As his boots hit the wooden planks that made up the dock, Guy turned back toward the pair. He had to admit it would be strange if they had to deal with a mute Anise for the rest of the night, but...

"Well, I think we should also make doubly sure that we can't repeat the same toll. Seeing how it's a different night, and -- like you said -- we didn't get anywhere... we could at least ask." They'd only gotten a very vague briefing on how this all worked the first time, after all.

Anise turned to face Claude when he voiced his objection, looking a little surprised. "Huh? But..." She'd fully expected to be the one to pay the toll this time, but now that he mentioned it, she could understand where he was coming from. They didn't even get across the lake last time, did they?

She pressed her lips together, reluctant to agree. Anise felt like she needed to pull her weight more, especially after they rescued her before. But he had a point, and Anise couldn't come up with a good argument against it. "... Okay," she eventually agreed with a sigh, then looked over to Guy. "Yeah, it can't hurt to ask... probably." There was no telling what that creepy skeleton might do, but she could always have hope.

Speaking of whom... where was that creepy skeleton? Anise checked over her shoulders. Maybe he was trying to sneak up on them again.

So far neither of them had any strong objections, which would hopefully make negotiating with the skeleton go smoother. In the meantime, they couldn't do much until they found him. Part of Claude feared that maybe he'd decided not to man his post tonight for whatever reason, leaving the three of them stuck in a lurch. But they'd found him twice before, at least, so maybe their luck would hold out a little longer.

"Mister Ferryman?" he called out as he took a few more steps onto the wooden dock. "We'd like to talk to you!"

Hopefully he wouldn't play games with them with this time, but Claude knew that was probably wishful thinking on his part.

"About time," came Charon's gravely voice from further up ahead. The torchlight illuminated his white bones as he rose from the gently rocking boat. "I was just about to get ready to see if I could find someone to play a game of cards with -- or to push into the lake, either one." With how ill-tempered a lot of the creatures here were, any game inevitably ended with someone falling into the water.

"Kind of flattered to see you back again so soon," he chuckled. "But I guess you three didn't come just to look at my pretty face." Gazing at the group with a pair of hollowed eyes, Charon continued speaking. "Anyway, you know the drill. Who's it going to be tonight?" Placing some of his weight onto his staff, he eagerly leaned forward. "The cute one?"

As it turned out, the skeleton had been hiding in his boat after all. Guy hadn't spotted him until he emerged, which seemed strange. On the other hand, something that was just a bag of bones could probably hide pretty easily. It was still bizarre to see a skeleton walking and talking; sometimes it almost felt like the ferryman could make expressions, even though it was just a talking skull.

It was a mix of intriguing and unsettling, but either way there was only one thing that they needed from the ferryman, and that was passage across the lake. While Anise had conceded to Claude taking the toll easily enough this time around, they still needed to be careful.

"Not necessarily," he responded before either Claude or Anise could speak. "Before we decide on anyone, we were wondering... Are we allowed to repeat tolls? Claude gave up his sense of touch last night, but seeing how we never really made it across, it doesn't seem fair for that to be off-limits now." Guy thought that he sounded pretty convincing, but he realized that that wouldn't necessarily make the skeleton any more inclined to be helpful.

The skeleton's voice sounded ahead of the group while Anise had her head turned, and she snapped her gaze back just in time to see him rise from the boat. At least he didn't catch her completely off guard this time...

When the skeleton leaned closer and mentioned the toll, Anise frowned in return, scrunching up her face in disgust. "Boooo. You don't have to be so creepy about it." While she enjoyed being 'the cute one,' the skeleton's words were sounding less flattering and more disturbing with each night.

Fortunately, Guy went ahead and started negotiating, and Anise kept quiet while he did. He was usually good at this kind of stuff, though she was a little skeptical about how cooperative the skeleton would be. He didn't strike her as someone who cared that much about what was fair.

While Guy had a valid question, the more Claude thought about it, the less giving up his sense of touch sounded like a good idea. As a front-line fighter, he needed to rely on his ability to wield a sword. If he couldn't use his body to gauge how much force to throw into an attack, where would that leave him? Without something so crucial, he'd easily become a burden if they fell under an unexpected ambush -- and, judging by their first night in here, the odds weren't in their favor.

"On second thought, it might be better if I give up my voice tonight after all," he suddenly said. While he wished he could have had a little more time to think things through, he also knew there was a chance the skeleton would interpret Guy's words as verification that Claude actually wanted to hand over his sense of touch. With that in mind, he'd decided it was better to speak up sooner than later.

"Anise might need her voice to cast one of those fonic artes, right?" he pointed out with a concerned frown. "What if we get bounced back somehow and she winds up having to give it up as another toll?" This place didn't always play fair, and it was probably better to be prepared.

Before anyone had a chance to add anything else to the conversation, Charon cut in. "Pleasure doing business with ya', Blondie," he said with an unnatural, grating laugh. Then, as if to seal the deal, he knocked his staff against the dock. The sound echoed off of the damp cavern walls.

"Anyway," he casually continued as he turned to look at Guy, "I normally hate answering Captain Obvious questions, but--" Pausing, he gave a raspy cough and cleared his non-existent throat. The next time he spoke, his voice sounded eerily familiar -- just like the one he'd just taken as payment. "Since I want to give this baby a test spin, I guess I'll be generous."

Growing quiet a moment, he considered how he'd sounded just then. Not too bad, though not getting the chance to take Cutie's voice left him a bit disappointed.

"Oh--right, got distracted there, sorry," Charon continued. "Anyway, like I said the first night you were lucky enough to find me, you can't pay with your sense of smell again. That's boring, and this place isn't exactly a charity. The other stuff, though? Fair game, no matter how many nights you have to come begging for my help. A guy made of just bones isn't going to be picky about that stuff."

Gesturing to the boat, he looked at the group. "Either way, the toll's been paid, you've got your tickets, so climb aboard."

Edited 2012-01-07 06:35 (UTC)

Guy hadn't really been ready for Claude to change his mind at the last minute like that. Giving up his voice? It seemed like it would be a tough burden to bear, but in the end Guy could understand Claude's reasoning pretty easily. So long as he could still nod, shake his head, and gesture to them, they would hopefully be fine.

Not that they really had a chance to reconsider, since the ferryman took his toll almost right after Claude made his offer.

Guy's gaze remained on Claude for a moment. This wasn't as bad as if he had lost his sight or something, seeing how that would have had some terrible memories associated with it, but --

Then the skeleton spoke up again, and it was with a voice that most certainly didn't belong to him. "What--?" Guy's head whipped over to stare at the ferryman, his shoulders stiff. While he'd realized beforehand that the skeleton took their senses for itself, this was the first time that it had been quite so obvious, and it was bizarre.

While Guy didn't really want to hear it in Claude's voice, he still made sure to pay attention to the explanation. So it seemed like other than smell, everything else could be repeated in subsequent nights. That was something they should keep in mind, then.

When the ferryman ordered them aboard, Guy sent Claude a worrying glance before taking the lead and settling on the far end of the boat. He hoped he wouldn't have to deal with listening to the ferryman talking with Claude's voice for too much longer.

Claude's reasoning was sound. In fact, Anise had considered that too, back when she was thinking up objections to him going before her. Being able to feel was vital to swordsmanship, and she needed a voice for fonic artes. This way, they'd all get to stay in good fighting shape.

The sound of the staff's thud was as ominous as ever, but what was even worse was the sound that came out of the skeleton's mouth after that. Anise was taken aback for a moment, flinching at hearing her friend's voice coming from the ferryman. She took a moment to absorb both that and the information he was giving them, and then sighed. "Now I'm really glad I didn't pay tonight."

Before boarding the ferry, however, Anise went to Claude's side, her hand fishing around behind her for something as she did. "I brought these just in case. You should take them," she explained before finding and producing a pen and two folded paper scraps. "We can probably get by on gestures, but if you need, you can use this!" So long as they didn't end up swimming again, that was.

Once those were handed over, she flashed him an encouraging smile and hurried over to the boat, settling into a seat with as much distance from Guy as was possible in such a small space.

Oh, hell, was the ferryman seriously using his voice now? Claude grew stiff at that realization. Really? Well, at least this beat paying over his sense of touch, although for a fleeting moment he wondered if such a price was worth not having to hear that skeleton talk like him. But, no...last night he'd realized he'd made a mistake by not quite thinking things through, so he was glad to at least get a chance to set things right this time around.

At any rate, thankfully the skeleton decided to clear up some of the confusion about how tolls worked. With that done, they were ready to be on their way. But, first, it looked like Anise had thought to bring along a pen and some paper just for this very scenario. Claude wordlessly raised his eyebrows at the offer before taking them with a grateful smile. Thanks, he mouthed, and he tried not to let the lack of sound unsettle him too much.

After tucking both items into his jacket, Claude climbed into the boat after his friends. He settled down beside Guy, careful not to jostle his seat too much. After flashing him what was hopefully a reassuring grin, he waited for the ferryman to take them across.

The sooner they reached the other shore, the better.

Once everyone sat down, Charon took his usual position at the back of the boat and pushed them away from the dock with his staff. The water gently lapped against from their movements, sending small waves across the dark lake. It was quiet -- and, thankfully for the group traveling with him, the skeleton wasn't in the mood to shatter tonight's relative peace. Considering how long he'd been stuck here alone, it almost surprised even him, but maybe that was what laziness did to someone.

Well, whatever. If they didn't wind up like the unfortunate creatures scattered across the sand, they'd likely be seeing him again anyway. Their luck was bound to run out sooner or later.

Charon chuckled. "Since there's nothing new to see this time around, try not to jump around so much, all right? I can't guarantee safe passage every time, and carrying on like a bunch of banshees like you did before won't help you."

As it turned out, Anise had possessed the foresight to bring some sheets of paper and a pen along with her. Guy watched as she handed those over to Claude, smiling at the sight. That was bound to come in handy at some point, though he also realized that they should probably rely on it as little as possible, seeing how they were going to probably be forced into situations where they wouldn't have the time to wait for Claude to write things out.

It was a relief nonetheless. Before long the boat had set off across the murky waters, and by now Guy knew better than to peer into it too closely. He thought that the remark that the ferryman made about their previous reaction to the waterlogged corpses was rather exaggerated, though he realized that there was no point in arguing about it.

Besides, it would feel strange to argue with someone who was speaking with Claude's voice.

"Don't worry, we aren't planning to rock the boat around or anything." In fact, Guy was staying pretty still. It wasn't like the boat was that large, after all, and he didn't need to brush against Anise by accident. That might end up with one of them falling into the water, and who knew what that would mean for them.

Aside from the short exchange between the skeleton and Guy, the ride across began quietly. Knowing what sort of things could await them on the other side, it was almost like the calm before a storm... though with Claude unable to speak, it was possible that the whole night was going to be much quieter than what Anise was used to.

Despite being reminded of the bodies in the water, Anise found herself gazing outward at the faces bobbing along near the surface. It was hard not to look, when that was really all she could see beyond the boat itself. If nothing else, they served as a somber reminder to stay on guard. Anise still didn't know what could have happened for them to end up like that, but what she did know was that she didn't want to find out the hard way.

When she'd had enough, the girl looked back to the inside of the boat and let out a small, barely audible sigh. She didn't enjoy sitting quietly for such a long time, and the skeleton's reminder that they were no longer guaranteed safe passage left an uncomfortable bit of tension in the air. Inwardly, she was just praying that the ride would be uneventful to the end.

Claude wanted to come out with a grumpy retort, especially with how annoyed he was getting from hearing that skeleton use his voice, but he clenched his jaw and kept quiet. It wasn't like speaking would do any good, anyway, thanks to the toll he'd paid. But when he thought of how much better off they'd be if he had his sense of touch, his frustration ebbed a bit.

Instead, he silently listened to the sounds of the ferryman's paddle breaking into the water and pushing them along. The stillness of the caverns unnerved him. Claude could practically feel the nameless faces peering at them from the dark lake, their gazes burning into him, but he did his best to ignore it.

If they were lucky, they wouldn't have to find out firsthand what had happened to them to wind up like that.

"A wise decision," Charon quietly said to Guy with a small chuckle. "Very wise indeed." They didn't want to wind up in the water, after all. And as dull as it could get with only short-tempered spiders and silent faces to keep him company, it was better that they not test his patience with a bunch of unnecessary flailing.

With little else to add, the ferryman was content with paddling them across the lake. Of course, it was hard to keep from humming a mindless tune just so he could keep listening to his spiffy new voice. If there was one thing he was better at than playing cards or rowing boats, it was entertaining himself.

Thankfully, they didn't have to endure his noise for too long. The other shore soon came into sight, its torches flickering and casting unsteady, fitful shadows around then. Charon brought the boat to a halt and linked it to the dock. When that was finished, it didn't take long for the three of them to move onto the shore.

"No presents from me this time, kiddies," he said as he climbed back into the boat and idly checked over it. "But if you don't die, maybe we'll run into each other again soon, huh?" With one final bark of a laugh, he waved and pushed away from the dock with his paddle.

Despite all the grief that had come before it about the toll, the actual boat ride turned out to be very quiet and very short. That was fine by Guy; he wasn't exactly interested in chatting with the ferryman, and his whistling had been oddly eerie in the way it had echoed off the cave walls.

When the boat docked Guy waited for the others to disembark in front of him, following them off as he stretched and looked around. It was the same as he remembered it. Before he could even respond to what the skeleton said (and he kept having to stop himself from looking over at Claude when he heard that voice), the boat had disappeared from view.

That was probably for the best.

"So..." He drew forward, glancing at Anise because he realized that he'd been mainly relying on her for input, seeing how Claude was temporarily mute. "Last time we went through that door," he said, pointing out to the one that was directly to the left from the dock. It looked like there were three more. Did they have to go through all of them? "Any preferences for where we go next?" It wasn't like they had any criteria to choose, so they might just have to make a random decision.

Anise followed Guy's gesture with her eyes, noting the door they'd already passed through. After a moment of consideration, she looked back up at him to answer. "Well... It doesn't really matter, does it? So let's just go through this one," she suggested, waving her hand in the direction of the rightmost door. No particular reason; it was just the one that caught her eye at that moment. All the doors were equally mysterious, so it was probably best if they didn't spend too much time deliberating which to take.

With that, she started on her way to the door, stopping once she was close to allow time for last minute objections or for simply gathering their courage. If the next trials were going to be anything like the last ones, they had to be prepared for anything.

"Let's just, um, watch our feet this time," she advised the others with a light, sheepish grin, remembering that terrifying first step beyond the other door.

Although Anise had given him some paper and a pen, it wouldn't have been practical to go fishing for all that just to give his opinion about something none of them knew much about. Thankfully, neither Guy nor Anise seemed particularly inclined to think too hard about it. At the end of the day, they were all just making a bunch of guesses down here, weren't they?

Upon hearing Anise's warning, Claude gave a silent nod in agreement. Since they had no idea of what to expect, they needed to be careful. Tightening his grip on his sword, he reached out to push the door open. He led the way inside, but moved slow and deliberate enough that it would be easy for them to stick close together.

((To here (http://damned.livejournal.com/1224296.html).))

[from here, timeskipped after the other group]

Life's a beach, and then you die. There was a fucking lake down here. S.T. couldn't see it -- there'd been a lot more torchlight in the ballroom -- but he could sure as hell hear it. And smell it.

His foot hit something hollow in the sand. Sangamon squatted down, and switched on his flashlight. A human skull looked up at him with empty eye sockets filled with white sand. He teased it out of the sand, brushing it off with a finesse that wouldn't make Indy happy, but at least he wasn't flinging it around. The bone had been bleached pure white, and the broken edges worn smooth. Any more than that would take a real forensics guy. Or an archeologist. "Nice decor. Either this has been here for a while, or Landel's going all out on the props budget." He set Yorick back down on the sand, patting him on the head, and brushed off his knees before standing up.

"Water has to be going somewhere. If there's a river, this might really be our ticket out of here." Or it could flow into a channel without any air space. Still a ticket out, just a one-way one.

The door and what lay after it was not what Peter expected.

By now, yeah, he was feeling more than a little anxious. Heading down to the basement again and setting foot in the ballroom had his teeth on edge. He'd made the mistake of glancing at the Coliseum doors first and letting that chill down his spine (to which he'd carefully put Sangamon between himself and the view of it, in what was hopefully a totally natural manner). Then there was this.

Peter's toes were curling in his shoes as Sangamon yanked a perfectly bleached skull from the ground and played Hamlet. Yeah, he was used to gore and things, and truth be told skeletons as a whole rarely bothered him. They were far enough from looking human that it all seemed like an elaborate prop dump than anything. Looking at freshly dead people was far, far worse, and that was all that Peter seemed to get.

But seeing the skulls and bones here was not doing him wonders. Peter flinched and snapped his foot away from the barren femur underneath. It had creaked at him. "You don't think this is where they put..."

He wrinkled his nose. No. Too clean. These were old bones, far too old to be coming from the morgue. "Nevermind."

There were lights up ahead by the lake. Aside from the flashlights, they were the only illumination this dank hole had to offer. "I really hope this isn't the sewage dump," Peter muttered irritably. The place didn't exactly smell like toilet offerings, but it didn't smell good either. Making a face, he began the trudge over. The torches had to be planted over there for a reason.

Indy gave up on sorting out who Freddy Kreuger was. Dent's reply suggested that he wasn't an immediate threat, which put him at the bottom of the list of things that mattered right now. He kept quiet the rest of the way down and focused on keeping an eye out and staying in step with the others. It was easier tonight, although pain still washed through his chest whenever he moved. Still, the now-familiar trip down went pretty quickly--and what was better, uneventfully. Until they went through the black doors on the other side of the ballroom.

It brought them out into a large cave, in which the main feature was a large body of water that spanned the whole space ahead of them. Sand shifted under his feet (not good; it meant every step took a little more effort). This was the first time in the basement that Indy'd really felt they were underground.

He was still looking around when Taylor, ahead of him, knelt and turned on his flashlight to look at something on the ground. He came back up with a human skull. Indy looked down again and saw it wasn't the only one--the beach was covered with bones as white as the sand, and you wouldn't have to be an archaeologist to tell at a glance that they were all human. He crouched down himself and brushed sand from the half of a broken ribcage nearest him. It looked and felt real, but he'd need better light to tell too much about who it had belonged to.

Peter's question was one he could answer easily, though. "No," Indy confirmed, getting to his feet. "Taylor's right; they've been dead for a while. By the looks of it, the bones were moved here well after that. You don't get that bleached appearance underground." Unless you bleached them yourself, which he wouldn't put past Landel. Taylor did have a point about the man's love for atmosphere.

The lights seemed to mark where they were supposed to go (another generous Landel touch, Indy thought grimly), so he followed Peter that way. Presumably they had to get across the water, and presumably doing that would involve some kind of elaborate trial(s). That seemed to be par for the course these days.

Harvey had been a little annoyed by Depth Charge's insistence on getting the door open when he had been handling it just fine, but in the end he'd allowed it because it meant he got to conserve his own energy and didn't have to bend his metal pipe even more out of shape.

After that, he was forced to the back of the group again, but in the end they didn't have very far to travel. All of them seemed interested in getting in and out of the ballroom as quickly as possible, though Harvey was surprised by how easily the ominous black doors had opened for them. He supposed that was their prize for what they'd endured in the arena: getting through here with no trouble.

They really must all be gluttons for punishment.

But now it was apparently time for something completely different. Walking from a luxurious ballroom setting into a dark, sandy area with the sound of lapping water was strange, to say the least. Harvey could feel the moisture in the air. The fun didn't stop there, though, if the skull that Sangamon unearthed was anything to go by.

The others determined pretty quickly that the bones that were scattered around couldn't belong to anyone they knew. Harvey hadn't been worrying about that too much in the first place, and so he simply followed after the others toward the two torch lights, keeping his flashlight pointed at the sand to make sure he didn't trip over any bones.

"So, how do we get across?" That was clearly what they had to do here, right? "Think there's a boat down there?" And would it fit six people?

They passed through the doors, only to be consumed by an even larger cavern than the basement's ballroom might once have been. Now this place could almost have been his home away from home (away from home, even: Earth was no Cybertron, even if he hadn't been back there in stellar cycles), with soft silty sand shifting under foot and the dark glimmer of deeper waters up ahead, the damp, porous smell unmistakable- though they certainly weren't anything Depth Charge would have risked taking a dive into out of choice. He wasn't that homesick.

Shame about the skeletons. Though the smooth, bleach-white shapes peeking out of the sand didn't exactly disturb him- with their flesh withered away they seemed too distantly placed from the humans walking and talking in front of him almost biomechanical in their smooth, efficient curves- they weren't the best sign they could have hoped for. But hey. Why expect anything less from good old drama-mongering Martin Landel? He was just surprised they hadn't run into any heads on poles or their own graves, carefully yet wittily inscribed with personal epitaphs.

"Better be," he answered Dent. "Unless they want to give me my old beast mode back, swimming in that'd probably be suicide."

Now that they were closer, though, it was becoming obvious that they had another choice: a dock extending out across the water, and, bobbing at the end of it, their transport. "There. One boat, ready and waiting."

Scott would have said something about this not exactly being a day at the beach, but even he could reach his limit on lameness.

He almost expected the bones in the sand to assemble themselves and do some kind of Halloween skeleton dance in front of them; they were that cartoony-looking. For that reason, Scott was able to deal with the scene that had been set out for them. The bones were as good as set decoration, background pixels. He could write them off as not real enough to care about. His subconscious thanked him for that. Any realism on the level they had seen the other night would be very hard to take right now, to say the least.

So, Scott let S.T. and Indy worry about the bones and instead followed the gazes of Harvey and DC, shivering at the sight of the dark water ahead. Water that black and this far underground had to be freezing cold. How to get across indeed? They would need some kind of...thing to keep them out of the water. Light enough to float, maybe made of wood. Nice curved-in design to keep anyone from falling off. Vaguely boat-shaped, preferably.

"Oh hey, a boat. That works," Scott said after Depth Charge pointed one out further down the shore. And was it just him, or was there something kind of white-looking standing inside said boat? What was...

Maybe it was too early to be assuming no Halloween dances.

After dealing with the three stooges, Charon was ready to settle down for the rest of the night and take a nap in the boat. But the minute he heard another set of voices approach his humble little dock, he used his long, bony arms to push himself up to a stand.

More people, then. Goody! As entertaining as everyone else has been so far, he was starting to wonder if they were the only ones who could find their way out of a paper bag -- or maybe the only other ones here, period. After waiting all this time, he was glad to see he was wrong, if only so he'd have more poor schmucks to play with in the future.

"About time," he grumbled as he wrapped his fingers around his ebony staff, peering at them with hollow eyes. He was still using Blondie Two's voice from earlier, but the beauty in that arrangement was that these guys probably had no idea he normally didn't sound like that. Now he really wished he had Cutie's voice.

"What's this?" He leaned forward, counting each person he saw. "One, two, three, four--oh, six of you now? This should be rich."

At the word boat, S.T. dropped the bits of the archeology playtime set he'd been toying with, and squinted into the gloom. Definitely a boat, with what looked like an entire skeleton hanging out near the stern. It'd be a tight squeeze, but they wouldn't need to leave anyone behind.

Then the bones talked.

S.T. could have been more surprised. The thing could have pulled out a guitar and posed for an album cover. Attempted to kill them. Both at once. Instead, it bitched like an old dockhand, though with a voice way too young to ever call grizzled.

"This your boat? Where can you take us?" He made it sound like he talked to skeletal water taxi drivers every day. Wasn't really that weird, compared with Sphinxes and zombie robot dinosaurs. This was just an old guy and a little boat. Only question was whether or not the fee was going to be anything they were willing to part with. Like their lives.

He nodded to Indy's clarification. While he had worked out the first part on his own (halfway through his dumb question, though), it had never occurred to him that the bones would be planted. Now it seemed all too obvious, with how white they were. That only happened in the sun. Peter just never had to think about that kind of thing before.

And he would be extra grateful if he never had to again. Just saying.

He trailed along with the rest of the group, pondering the question of the lake and how to cross it, because hell if he was diving in. There were probably ten billion piranhas waiting for them. Or worse. The dock seemed to provide an answer as they drew closer, with a humble little boat attached to the side and a figure laying...down...

...What.

There was horrifying, and then there was hands down ridiculous. Talking skeleton definitely slotted into the latter, especially when it was talking like a hokey early math segment on Sesame Street. He cast a sideways glance to Scott, trusting his brows to properly convey 'Is this for real?' when words were failing him.

Really Landel? Really? This is what we are stooping to now? They could have at least gotten a real Olson twin to do the gig.

(Though he did have to say that was...not what he expected a talking skeleton to sound like. Less guy next door, more gravelly ghoul? Props for breaking expectations, he guessed.)

"If he says anything about 'our wildest dreams' or 'our heart's desires', I'm out," Peter chimed in flatly. He crossed his arms and cocked his head at the thing, looking particularly unimpressed. "I've seen this after school special. Nobody take his candy."

Edited 2012-01-11 10:49 (UTC)

Charon, was Indy's first thought, and "Oh, for crying out loud" was his second. He couldn't fault Landel's interest in Greek mythological figures, but the execution always seemed to owe more to the funnies than to any classical depiction. At least he got the attitude problem right.

What this place really needed, Indy decided, was a mythology research department. Not a bad retirement plan, if you were an archaeologist with megalomania and a high tolerance for bad company. Belloq would've loved it.

He turned his attention back to the situation at hand. That there was a boat was good, but it didn't ease his suspicions that some test had to be passed--or some price to be paid--before they could get across. Obviously Peter's thought were running along similar lines. "I agree, kid," Indy muttered to him before he stepped forward, feet creaking on the dock. "And what do we have to do to cross?" he added to Taylor's questions.

Beast mode, he said. Harvey figured that he couldn't expect much more from someone who called himself Depth Charge, and he decided that he really didn't want to ask any clarifying questions about that.

It was really the least of his concerns right now, since they had stumbled upon a boat, along with its owner. Who happened to be a walking, taking skeleton. All of them managed to take it in stride, which just went to show how long they'd been dealing with this crap. It was like Landel never got sick of putting them through improbable situations and laughing about it.

The skeleton's voice was surprisingly young, but Harvey realized that it was ridiculous for him to have any preconception for what a talking science exhibit should sound like. He brushed it off, taking in the questions that were asked and figuring that Sangamon and Jones had managed to cover all the bases. No surprise there.

The question was how all six of them plus a skeleton was going to fit in one boat without weighing it down, but Harvey realized they'd just have to make it work. He doubted that the skeleton was going to want to make two trips.

Night 60: Underground Lake

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