damned_institute | Night 65: Underground Lake

The bracelet upgrade meant S.T. wasn't having to cut himself every time they jumped, so he counted it a bonus. And the security guard had a pretty good sense of humor.

"Yeah." S.T. jogged over towards the dock, jumping over human skulls like a linebacker running drills through a field of used tires. "Hey, dead guy." He reached out a hand and bounced it on thin air. "Ka-bing. Customers. Let's get this party started."

Was it weird that the walking, talking skeleton was feeling more and more like just "one of the guys" the more they came down here?*

"What they said," said Scott, keeping pace with S.T. "Sense, boat ride, pick-a-door. Think we got it. Seems to be what works, so why mess with the formula, right?"

* - Spoilers: yes it was.

Charon slowly pushed himself up from the bottom of the boat, letting what sounded like a yawn escape from the bones that comprised his jaws. "Yeah, yeah, I hear ya'," he grumbled as he leaned against his staff. "Geez, cut me some slack here. 'Least you could do is say thanks for the bracelets, you know. It's not like I hand 'em out like candy."

Well, whatever. They wanted to pay the toll, so he was willing to accept it. "Well, then?" he asked, sounding a little impatient after having his nap interrupted so suddenly. "What's it gonna be tonight?"

So maybe they were being a bit demanding. Harvey didn't think that was a problem, seeing how they were already being good little soldiers and playing along with Landel's game. Besides, if it weren't for them Mr. Ferryman wouldn't have a single thing to do all night. So really, he should be thanking them.

Either way, now was the time to get all of the rules ironed out. Harvey took a step forward, realizing that he would have to take charge of things this time around. "We have a question first. We know that smell was a freebie, but how about the other senses? Are we only allowed to use each one once?"

He could hardly imagine that was the case. Five tries wasn't much to go on, especially with how difficult they made this whole process. But at least he'd pinned the skeleton down now. He wasn't going to let it wriggle out of giving a straight answer.

He thought he'd already made all this clear, but maybe not. It was harder to keep track of unimportant details like that when your skull was empty. If he'd any eyes, he would have rolled them.

"It wouldn't be a freebie if you could use all of them the same number of times," Charon pointed out. "So, no, you don't have to use each one only once -- except if you get bounced back here and try to pay with the same sense in a single night. In other words, I'm not gonna let Stinky and Mouthy pay with their sense of touch on the same night. That's boring, not to mention useless to someone like me. Got it?"

Tightening his bony grip on his staff, Charon tilted his head. "Now," he added with a note of finality in his voice, "what's it gonna be, kiddies?"

So that was how it worked. Harvey hadn't even realized that they might have to cross the lake twice in one night, but at least they'd cleared that up. It would have helped if the skeleton had told them this from the start, but Harvey wasn't too surprised that the ferryman hadn't been all that forthcoming.

Still, this meant that he had his choice between sight, hearing, touch, and his voice. In the end, his ability to see and hear seemed far more important than the other two, and after last night Harvey didn't think that giving up touch was a good idea, either.

That meant that he was sticking with his original idea, which was to give up his voice. "All right, then I guess it's your turn to sound like me," he said, squaring his shoulders as he took a step forward, offering himself up for the payment. It was going to be annoying having to write everything down, but he could rely on gestures too, at the least.

Edited 2012-08-21 17:03 (UTC)

Voice wasn't, technically, a sense. Sangamon weighed the benefits of being right over having to pantomime at Harvey. Easy choice. Besides, creepy basement-dwelling skeletons deserved to be able to talk. Harvey's face was halfway there. If the escape gig didn't pan out, maybe they could trade him for a monthly pass.

S.T. vaulted into the boat and put his feet up on the gunwale. "Less talking, more rowing," he said, smirking at Harvey.

"Good choice," said Scott to Harvey, unconsciously closing his bandaged hand. He was pretty sure none of them knew sign language, but communication difficulties or not, it was probably going to be better than what he had picked the night before. That and Two-Face could be scary enough sometimes, even if he was on their side. A Two-Face that couldn't feel pain? Major scary.

Scott followed S.T. into the boat, wishing he could look half so casual about it. "Yes, onward to adventure!" he said (albeit with some uncertainty), pumping his fist — and then pulling it back down with a quiet hiss when his fingers dug into the bandage. Ow, not the most thinking-est gesture.

Edited 2012-08-22 14:57 (UTC)

"Done and done." Charon brought his staff down against the bottom of the boat, and the sound reverberated off of the cavern walls. The next time the skeleton spoke, it was with Harvey's voice. "La la la! Hmm, not bad..."

It would be a fun distraction for the night, anyway. Too bad he couldn't have a collection of voices at his disposal all the time. A trick like that would be a hoot at parties!

Once everyone climbed aboard, the ferryman switched his staff out for a paddle. After dipping it into the gently lapping water, they were on their away across the dark lake. "Anyway, you'd better be careful what you wish for, Mouthy," he chuckled at Scott. "Adventure ain't always what it's cracked up to be."

And just like that, he felt a tightness in his throat which he was pretty sure meant that he'd just lost any ability to talk. Harvey couldn't stop himself from testing it, opening his mouth -- but not even a whisper came out. He glared at Sangamon's comment, since that was the last thing he needed at the moment. Scott was a bit more encouraging, and Harvey was starting to realize that Scott had been annoying him less and Sangamon had been annoying him more these past couple nights. It was like it went in waves.

Hearing that pile of bones speak with his voice was one of the more surreal things he'd experienced since coming to this place, and that was saying something. Harvey settled into the boat and then kept his eyes on his journal, not interested in listening too much to his own voice coming from something else or in watching the lake zombies trying to get a hold of them.

There wouldn't be much to say until they got to the other side, and so for the moment Harvey just sat there. It wasn't like he had much else to do.

"I'm cool with adventure. You just have to adjust your expectations." Not pharmaceutically. A few hits to relax and get to know your team were great, but he asked people if they were down with civil disobedience sober. Standards, man, standards. He had them, and they involved people knowing what they were getting into before the shit hit the fan. "Less glory, more guts. Saving the world by contracting explosive diarrhea." Or at least the Harbor. With Pleshy and Laughlin walking away in chains, the world wasn't a bad extrapolation. Definitely the reputation of one Sangamon Taylor, which wasn't a big deal to anyone else, but it was to him.

"I could do without repeating that one, though." The water running past the side of the boat looked black. Good for brooding. They were all bitchy tonight, including Harvey, who could express as many versions of fuck you with half a face as a six-pack of Massholes jockeying for pole position behind a floundering station wagon with out of state plates.

If tonight involved explosive diarrhea, Scott was pretty sure he wouldn't be cracking up the prospect of adventure too much anymore, now or ever. That was just nasty.

"Thanks for sharing," said Scott, shivering for the second time in less than a minute (the first being at Harvey's gravelly voice coming out of Skeletonface's mouth — oh hi future nightmares how are you?).

"Hah!" Charon's (or, rather, Harvey's) bark of a laugh bounced across the lake. They were approaching the torch-lit dock, but he didn't draw any attention to it. Instead, he looked back at the group with a hollow smile. "All right, then, Stinky. How about this?"

Without another word, the ferryman hefted the paddle up with shocking strength. Before anyone could react, he sliced through the air with the precision, water droplets flying in the paddle's wake. With one good whack! he smacked Stinky from the side, aiming to pitch him right out of the boat.

What was Sangamon even talking about? Harvey raised an eyebrow on the good side of his face, which was also the only side that was showing at the moment -- but he was sure it got the message across well enough. None of them had needed to hear that.

And more than that, it apparently offended their ferryman enough that he took drastic action, as without much warning he smacked Sangamon with the flat side of the paddle, sending him toppling out of the boat.

Harvey didn't think much at all before he reacted. He was on his feet in seconds, which only disturbed the weight of the boat, almost sending him off-balance. He realized he was trying to yell something, but he wasn't making a sound. The idea of trying to reach over and heft Sangamon back up into the boat seemed like a monumentally terrible idea, so in the end Harvey forced himself to sit back down and gave Scott a look. A, "what the hell just happened?" look.

S.T. had all of a split-second to gulp air before he went over the side of the boat, arms windmilling. The pipe dropped into the bilge with a thunk. The cheap plastic seals on the flashlight held up. It glowed even as he went completely under, like those freaky candles in Tolkein. S.T. kept his mouth slammed shut, and blew air out. Skullhead had warned him about the water. It didn't smell like anything, but this place had an inside track on his nightmares. Talking about projectile vomiting might have been his downfall.

The bottle of antihistamines in his pocket wouldn't even make a dent if it was really contaminated. So he just wouldn't drink any of it. Not that Debbie hadn't known the same thing. At least he wasn't handcuffed.

Sangamon drifted for a second, looking up at what little light there was bouncing off the underside of the water/air interface. It took a lot of guts to not immediately fight for the surface. Or experience, which Sangamon definitely had. The black shape was the bottom of the boat, directly over his head. A big frog kick and a pull, and his head popped up just alongside Harvey, who was gaping like a fish at him. Yelling. Aww, maybe he did care. He didn't offer a hand, which was probably good, as pulling someone back in a boat was harder than it looked. Instead, he made shooing motions at both him and Scott.

Then he tossed the flashlight down to join the pipe. It flickered and died, water finally creeping in somewhere. Then he pulled himself up until his gut was even with his hands. Undignified, but effective. He could just pitch over and land in the bottom, splashing eau de dead guys all over everyone.

Scott jolted back from the flying water as the paddle passed near his head, doing his share of nearly throwing the boat off-balance. One second S.T. was in the boat, then there was a giant "WHAP" and the next second, he was out of it. "Whoa!" Scott gripped the sides of the boat in a frantic attempt to keep them from rolling over. Somehow, between Harvey's flailing and his, the thing stayed afloat. Thank dumb luck for that, but what about S.T.?

"What the hell, man?!" Scott vocalized for both himself and Harvey, looking back and forth between the murky water and the smirking skeleton. "Are there voice refunds on the Lake of Death and Drowning because I'd say that qualifies as some crappy customer service right there!"

Oh good, here came S.T. now. "Dude, are you okay? Are you decrepit? Zombiefied?" he asked, having flashbacks to Disney's Hercules.

"Hey, hang on there!" Charon warned as the boat rocked back and forth. Thankfully, the guy had some sense, and settled down after a moment. Mouthy took a page out of his book and sat tight, too.

"What do you mean, refunds?" the skeleton cackled. "Prince Charming here was the one who paid up. As far as I'm concerned, you two clowns are just along for the right. And if there's anything I don't like, it's an obnoxious clown."

And speak of the devil -- there was Stinky. The ferryman leaned to the side as he observed him a moment. "Well, whaddyaknow," he remarked with a small snort. "You've got luck on your side tonight. I'm impressed."

With that, he dipped the paddle back into the water and began to row toward the dock as if nothing had happened. "You'd better hope you didn't spend it all up just now, though," he added in his own gravelly voice as an afterthought.

In the end, Sangamon was able to find his way to the surface and pull himself back onto the boat. He looked like a drowned rat, but he wasn't dripping with the remains of waterlogged corpses, so that was something. Or at least, Harvey hoped he wasn't.

That didn't stop him from flinching back when some of the water came splashing his way, but he figured that was a pretty natural reaction.

More than that, the ferryman didn't have much of an explanation for them. In fact, he even said that Sangamon had lucked out. Did that mean that there had been a chance that something worse would have happened to him in the water? Harvey frowned, not liking the sound of that at all. At least he wasn't the one who'd been pitched over.

As for being called "Prince Charming," he had no idea where that came from, but with the inability to speak it was easy enough to ignore it. Harvey kept his gaze on the approaching shore, figuring that Scott and Sangamon could handle the questions if they wanted to try and get anything out of the skeleton on what all that had been about.

S.T. sprayed spit (over the side of the boat) and looked around for something to wipe potentially-hazardous effluvia on. Not Harvey's shirt.

If it wasn't burning or itching by now, it was going to kill him slowly or not at all. Time to let it go. It wasn't like they hadn't been dropped in what might be the same water last night. He ignored the voice that sounded exactly like himself in full-on science nerd patter, droning about statistics and repeated exposure. Clean living made up for a lot, and he had an all-hours shower-access pass.

Instead, he pulled his shirt off, wrung it out, and then used it to towel his head off. "Nah, no refunds." His voice was muffled by the shirt. "Nice night for a swim. Most people stick to threatening to throw me off." Then he usually pointed out that it was his fucking boat. Or if not, that he wouldn't wish that water on his worst enemy, which got them all talking about the creeps they were really going after. "Landel tell you to do that once in a while, or was that just for kicks?"

Luck on his side? Scott didn't like the implicit implications behind that statement. Remind me not to piss off Bone Jangles on future boat rides, he thought with a gulp, the words "obnoxious clown" ringing ominously in his brain.

Not that it might have done any good to think that anyway, as S.T. pointed out. If the ferryman just did the whole boat tossing thing randomly and not because someone had eyed him the wrong way, there wouldn't be much they could do other than watch that paddle like a pack of hawks. Either that or just not get in the boat again. But that would just be silly. You'd think they valued their lives or something.

In either case, they wouldn't have to worry for much longer; the dock was in sight now, and they would be on dry land again in minutes. Scott looked over at Harvey, shifting towards the front of the boat. As soon as they landed, he wanted to be up and moving. The less time they wasted sitting around with their generous chauffeur, the better.

"Wow, you think Landel would actually tell me to dump people out of the boat for no reason?" Harvey's laugh echoed across the lake before Charon suddenly grew sober. "Well, yeah, I guess he would be weird enough to do that, but!"

He gave a good, strong row with his paddle to emphasize his words.

"Nah, I just do that if I feel like it," he explained. "I mean, a guy like me, working in a place like this seven days a week? You do realize we don't have television or anything down here, right?"

Sheesh. Leave it to these guys to make everything more complicated than it needed to be. Thankfully, they reached the dock, which meant they were officially out of his hair now.

"All right, you crazy kids," he said, waving them off. "Don't do something stupid and die, now."

It was completely surreal to hear his own, derisive laugh coming out of someone else's throat. Or lack of throat, rather. Harvey felt a sharp shiver go down his spine as the skeleton kept talking with his tone, the inflection and word choice not accurate in all the places it should be, which just made it stranger.

Since the ferryman was mainly just spouting off useless information, Harvey tried his best to ignore it, and he let out a silent sigh when he realized that the boat had finally docked. That had definitely been the most harrowing passage they'd made so far. Was it only going to get worse from here?

He moved off of the boat and examined the nearby shore, taking note of where the rotting corpses were laid out so he could avoid those areas, if only to save his nose. Once the other two joined him, Harvey gestured toward the door they'd picked last night. Might as well stick with what they knew, right?

"You think there's more to it?" S.T. almost smacked himself. Yes or no questions only for Harvey. Pantomime got old in third grade.

He didn't bother to try to see if Harvey was answering. Instead, he shrugged, and turned to Scott. "Devil we know or new and exciting ways to die?"

Scott had been just about to say to the skeleton's first point that yeah, Landel would probably give orders exactly like that, and more likely than that, there would be some sort of traumatic shadow creature or random portal or sea gnome or whatever snapping right at their heels after them. Honestly, the fact that S.T. had gotten away with just getting drenched in dead juice was kind of a miracle, all things considered.

If they were going to keep up that kind of luck, Scott could only see one answer to S.T.'s question when they reached the doors. "Devil we know. Definitely devil we know," he answered, following Harvey's gesture and starting to open the same door from the previous night. "We know we won't die once we get to the end of this one, so that's at least five more minutes we can be guaranteed to stay breathing tonight." Provided there was a way out of that pool of water once they got to that point, anyway. Fingers crossed.

[To here]

[from here]

The white sandy beach was not a sight Ilia had expected, but it was a far cry from the horror she had feared would rise up as soon as they entered the final door. The dark water lapping at the sand was hardly opaque and offered little comfort. She scanned one wall with a flashlight, but the beam seemed to trail off into nothingness.

"It's like we're in some underground cove," she whispered, trying to catch a glimpse of the other side of the lake. There were only a few torches across the way, however, and they provided so little light it was impossible to really discern anything of note from such a distance. At least she knew there was another end, but how could they get there? She didn't trust the water was swimmer safe.

Seishin took Silvestri-san's extended hand, and together they headed into the last unknown. They arrived at a white sandy beach, which was not quite something he had expected after leaving behind the splendour of the ballroom.

"That seems to be the case," he whispered back. He swept around the small beam of his flashlight, trying to see more of their surroundings. As pristine as the white sand might have seemed, it was littered with skeletons and bones. That...was hardly a positive sign, was it? His eyebrows knitted in worry as he glanced at what were only the remains of a person. It would be a prelude to what awaited them, he was sure.

The underground lake was dark and threatening, making him wonder if something would be hidden in its murky depths. The former priest was able to make out the torches on the other side, but nothing more than that. How would they be able to cross the lake? He, too, believed that swimming across would not be safe.

Ilia's eyes glimpsed the flat reflection of bone among the white sand and she froze for a moment, her grip tightening a bit on Seishin's hand. She forced herself to relax, loosened her grip but still refused to let go. She side-stepped a particularly intact skeletal hand, fighting back a shiver of disgust. "At least they're not fresh...."

They continued forth, softly padding through the soft sand. Not for the first time she wished her captain would have been present. He would not have let this type of scene faze him. Just his presence would have given Ilia the courage to move through the very depths of hell itself without flinching. She appreciated Seishin's company, but she still felt like it was her duty to be the pillar of strength and endurance in this situation. Ronyx made it look so easy.

Still throwing around her beam of light, Ilia caught sight of what seemed to be wood. Inhaling sharply, she tried to focus her beam on it again. "Look!"

Unfamiliar voices drifted across the caverns, reaching the ferryman's non-existent ears and waking him from his light nap in the process. It didn't take long for him to shake off the last traces of slumber as he shifted from his spot in the boat.

A new group, eh? Oh, goodie.

If they were worried about fresh bones, Charon wondered what they'd think of him. Well, only one way to find out. After giving an exaggerated yawn, Charon pushed himself up to a stand, bleached white bones illuminated by the flashlight. His fingers curled around a single staff as he surveyed the next batch of fools with an empty-eyed stare.

There were only two this time, which was a relief after having to deal with that one six-person group several nights ago. (What was this, a freaking bus service?) Of course, his night got even better when he caught a good look at the patients' faces. Glasses and a cute, short haircut? Well-endowed blonde beauty?

Yeah, Charon could work with this.

As he did a perfect Prince Charming impersonation, Charon gifted them with his eternal smile. "Well, hello there, ladies."

Edited 2012-08-26 22:11 (UTC)

Seishin's gaze followed Silvestri-san's beam of light, which eventually illuminated a dock. There appeared to be a boat, as well. That seemed...a little too convenient, didn't it?

Once something rose from the boat, Seishin halted in his tracks. The beams of their flashlights revealed the white bones of a moving skeleton with staff. But rather than attacking them, it actually spoke.

A talking skeleton; a flirty one who had mistaken him for a woman, apparently. That hardly made Seishin feel any more comfortable, and despite the strangeness of the situation the former priest couldn't entirely stop himself from making a face. He didn't look that feminine, did he?

How was he even supposed to respond to this? Perhaps the situation would have been a little less complicated had it not involved a talking skeleton in charge of their only apparent way across...

Ilia sucked in a sharp breath of stagnant air. A talking skeleton. With a charming voice that seemed completely out of place. And was flirting with them. Both of them.

Ilia didn't suppose Seishin was all that manly as far as looks went. She hadn't suspected he was a girl upon first meeting but the situation had been different. Now they were thrown another curveball but at least this creature, whatever he was, didn't attack on sight. If anything...

The scientist's face lit up as a plan formed in her head. She gave Seishin's hand a squeeze, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Let me handle this."

Turning to the skeleton man, which wasn't as horrifying considering the things she had seen before entering the institute, Ilia offered him what she hoped would be a charming smile. She spoke up, her voice echoing a bit off the cavern walls. "Hey there! We were just passing through and wondering how to get across. I don't suppose a rugged guy like yourself would mind giving us a lift now, would you?"

Ilia couldn't help her momentarily imaging Welch as a vindictive thought ran through her mind. That girl had nothing on Ilia when it came to charming men.

Hey, now. Someone who didn't cringe at the sight of him? Maybe this voice really did do the trick. Too bad he had to give it up at the end of the night, though.

"That's what I'm here for, beautiful," he said with a small chuckle. "I know this lake like the back of my hand -- well, what's left of it, anyway, heh."

Of course, just because a couple of pretty faces waltzed up to the boat didn't mean he was going to forget his own rules.

"If you want to ride, though, you gotta pay the toll," he explained. "Don't worry, I'm not interested in money or material possessions. A sack of bones like me is mostly interested in a few things." He leaned forward, staring at the two patients with empty eye sockets. "Sight, sound, touch, and voice. You can pay for a trip across the lake by giving me one of those."

Leaning against his staff, he tilted his head to the side. "Since you asked so nicely, though, I'll let you one of you pay with your sense of smell for tonight only. Considering your other options, it's not such a bad deal, right?"

Seishin wasn't really certain what to think when Silvestri-san told him to let her handle the situation, not quite enjoying any of the implications that came with it. The former priest did not quite feel comfortable with keeping quiet about his real gender, even if he was essentially deceiving a talking skeleton. What if it found out?

Unfortunately, there wasn't anything he could do at the moment but to let Silvestri-san proceed, so he kept quiet.

But even then, nothing in Landel's Institute came for free. Passage across the ominous dark water of this underground lake came with the price of one's sense. It was possibly a heavy price when one considered whatever that could lie up ahead. A ferryman, was it? What sort of Hell would it lead them in? A worried frown appeared on his features.

But...it was the only way to cross, wasn't it? The only way forward, of possibly finding answers. If there had been another way, Landel-san would not have bothered with this, would he? Was it worth it? He wouldn't mind paying the toll in any case; it would be better if he did rather than Silvestri-san...

"You're such a charmer!" Ilia laughed and waved her free hand, as if she were shy hearing such a compliment. Generally those words from a man really would get her blushing, but coming from a skeleton... It certainly helped that his voice was smooth as silk.

She should have expected the toll, though, and her eyes hardened briefly. When he laid out his terms, however, the skeleton man's fare didn't seem quite as high as she would have feared. If anything, that was a walk in the park compared to their previous trials. She smiled again, pulled Seishin along with her closer to the dock.

"Oh, well then, we'll take you up on that smell option this time around." She turned to Seishin, giving him a short nod while trying to communicate her thoughts through her eyes and a squeeze of her hand. As the fighter of their group, she needed to keep most senses but smell wasn't that bad of a handicap. "I'll take the penalty tonight. I don't mind!"

Edited 2012-09-05 20:42 (UTC)

A charmer, eh? No one had called Charon that in eons -- not even the spiders he played cards with every Saturday night, if anyone could believe it! He liked this lady!

Even better, she decided to take him up on his offer without making too much of a fuss. That meant he could ferry across the lake with a bit of finer company tonight.

"All right, then, done!" With that, he brought his staff down against the wood beneath his feet, and the noise echoed throughout the underground lake. The sound brought a note of finality to the transaction. There was no going back now.

The ferryman took a deep breath. "Ahh, nothing like that damp, dark cavern smell." Well, it didn't smell as nice as that night he'd taken Stinky's sense of smell, but at this point the skeleton mostly just wanted to hear his own "charming" voice.

"Welp!" Charon gestured with his hand, beckoning the patients closer. "Climb aboard, ladies."

Edited 2012-09-08 18:12 (UTC)

Seishin hadn't expected Silvestri-san to pay the toll so readily. He cast her a glance that was a mixture of both concern, but otherwise kept silent. There was a tinge of annoyance, but the former priest managed to keep it under wraps for now. At least smell did not seem as much of an offer as the other senses would, he guessed.

The transaction had gone rather quickly. It involved nothing fancy; the skeleton merely brought his staff down against the wood. The sight of the skeleton man taking a deep breath to smell the damp air of the cavern was bizarre, but because he had already gone through that rabbit hole even before waking up in this place Seishin couldn't help but to take it in stride.

The novelist had to make an effort not to flinch as the skeleton once more addressed him as a woman. They could hardly play this game forever, could they? There were implication that they would have to make use of his services in the future, after all...

Just smile politely. If there was anything he was good at, it was maintaining a pleasant mask despite his true feelings. Seishin had little choice but to swallow his objections and play along for now -- hopefully, the skeleton man would take his silence as shyness. The former priest had always been the quiet sort, however, which was perhaps a small mercy.

"Ooh!" Ilia was surprised by the suddenness of the change. It wasn't a bad trade at all considering how dank the cavern air was. In fact, Ilia felt a little refreshed, able to breathe without having to deal with the smell of the clammy air.

Shooting her friend an apologetic look, Ilia carefully stepped down the dock and into the boat, still refusing to let go of her companion's hand. She wasn't afraid anymore, but she still didn't know if they could trust the skeleton man beyond taking them across the lake. She hoped to foster a continued friendly relationship for now, however. "Thanks for the ride. I'm Ilia, by the way. And this is... Muroi."

The skeleton might have been able to glean masculinity out of Seishin's given name. This lie was starting to become a chore to upkeep, but if it got them across the water Ilia wasn't going to let it go.

Edited 2012-09-16 06:22 (UTC)

Names didn't matter much to someone who had been dead as long as him, but he was pretty sure this was the first time anyone had bothered introducing themselves in a long, long time. And coming from ladies as charming as these two? Well, that wasn't something that happened every day!

"Hah! Fantastic." As he switched his staff out for a paddle, he continued speaking with Prince Charming's voice. "I don't really care what you call me -- ferryman, skeleton, bastard, Charon, I've heard 'em all." None of them were terribly unwarranted, if he wanted to be honest with himself.

Once the two were settled inside the boat, Charon pushed away from the dock, the dark water gently lapping against the side of the vessel as they moved. "Either way, you'd better make sure to keep your feet and hands inside while we're crossing. The folks living in the lake don't appreciate bein' disturbed."

Seishin had offered a polite nod of his head at the sound of his family name, but otherwise remained silent.

A ferryman with the name of Charon, was it? Though Seishin was hardly an expert on Greek mythology, he had come across the name on several occasions during his researches. A part of him was not fully certain whether to be darkly amused or unnerved as he wondered whether they would be ferried off to the Underworld. Be as it may, the trials that awaited them were best not to be underestimated, and for what could have been the hundredth time he had to wonder whether the end result was truly worth it all.

As Charon-san made his comment, Seishin dared to lower his gaze to the faces of dead people floating beneath the water's surface. The knitting of his eyebrows was the only outward sign of how unnerved he felt by such a macabre sight, otherwise retaining his nearly stoic calmness. At the same time he was startled by a morbid curiosity regarding the nature of the Dead in the water. They did not seem to be zombies of some sort...

If anything, it underlined that paying the ferryman's toll was indeed the only way of safely crossing this lake. Nonetheless, he couldn't help but wonder: what did it mean for whatever that was ahead of them?

There was no doubt that Ilia had heard of Charon. Mythologies interested her since they were often tied to natural events as ancient societies understood them. This one was used to explain the transition of life into death. Ilia wasn't sure she was ready to face death just yet... or was it a commentary on the last trial that had led them here? The fight in the coliseum had certainly brought them face-to-face with the realities of life and death.

"Charon, then," she said at last. Ilia was putting her's and Seishin's life in this man's bony hands. The least she could do was be polite.

She gritted her teeth, trying to stay as centered in the boat as possible. As rock-solid she could be, there were still some things that sent her skin crawling. Dead bodies in great multitudes was one of them. "They don't like it? I hope you don't mean they'll actually try to get us if we bother them..."

He really had meant it when he said he didn't care what people called him. Most of the names he'd rattled off were things he'd heard from anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. Hell, 'hey you' worked just as well as anything else. After being dead for so long, a guy quit being so particular about details like that.

"Whatever floats your boat," the skeleton said with a shrug. "Heh! Get it? Floats your boat? I'm so funny."

Those people in the lake had a way of drawing attention from whoever crossed it, so he wasn't surprised when the blond beauty asked about them. (Tch, bunch of show-offs.)

"They might," he answered as he continued dipping the paddle into the dark water. "They might not. Depends on how unlucky you are. There's a beastie that lives there, too. Doesn't like being disturbed from its naps. Awful at cards. I'd avoid it if I were you."

Seishin looked up to offer Charon-san a questionable glance as he mentioned the 'beastie', but the situation prevented him from actually voicing the question. He could only hope they wouldn't find out what exactly this 'beastie' was in another way...

And hopefully, it was not anything like Cthulhu...

Be as it may, it would seem the lake was more dangerous than he had initially expected.

"Er, ha ha ha..." Ilia could generally appreciate a pun in better circumstances. Here it was a little difficult. But she didn't want to offend their host and cause unnecessary trouble.

"Sounds like a lot of things depend on luck..." Ilia shook her head, unable to imagine what kind of thing could live down there with all those bodies. If it had been a normal creature, it likely would have eaten them all up by now, or at least caused the lake some turbulence. But other than the ripples moving away from their boat the water was silent.

"Sounds like a nightmare." She chuckled again, a little more confidence in her voice. "But if it's as awful at cards as you say, maybe it's not so bad as an opponent." Whatever it was.

"You obviously haven't seen how it gets when it loses at cards," Charon snorted as he continued rowing.

Soon enough, the torches from the other dock came closer, and the boat reached their destination.

"All right, ladies, this is your stop!" he told them. After setting down his paddle, he rummaged around at the bottom of the boat and mysteriously emerged with a small cloth bag. "Take these -- a present from me, heh. They'll make it easier for you to come pay another visit."

The torches on the other side slowly came into view, and eventually they reached the dock without any problems. As relieving as that was, Seishin had to suppress another wince as Charon-san referred to them as 'ladies' again.

He glanced curiously at the skeleton man as he rummaged through the boat and emerged with a...bag? Seishin blinked at it, before taking it with a small amount hesitance. He wasn't fully certain what Charon-san had meant with his comment, but he offered a bow of gratitude regardless.

Seishin then climbed out of the boat and stepped onto the dock. No sense in unnecessarily keeping the Skeleton man, was there? He glanced at Silvestri-san, looking if she required any help.

"Someone should tell 'em not to be such a sore loser," Ilia chuckled, feeling a bit more at ease with the banter. And just in time for them to make port at the opposite shore! A wave of relief rushed through her and exited on a breath of air.

She followed the bag with her eyes a s Seishin took it, unsure of what it could possibly be and only partly suspicious that it might be a trick.

Casting one more smile Charon's way, Ilia followed Seishin up onto the dock, perfectly capable of disembarking on her own tonight. "Hey, thanks for the gift. I guess we'll be seeing you later, for now."

She offered him a wave, thankful to be done with the ordeal this night.

Night 65: Underground Lake

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Sorry for edits!

Sorry for the delay!

Sorry for even more delay!

/continues the delay train

choo choo!

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