The heel presses down before he can dodge and Richie looses a yelp more befitting a trod-upon Yorkie than a man. And yet?]
Heh-heh-heh-heh... [He's suddenly giggling. The boy he'd been nearly thirty years ago makes an unexpected comeback in the high rise and the way his head ducks to hide the snicker. If you looked quick you might even catch sight of him. An optical illusion of youth, living just under the surface of this old man's skin.
It's almost as if they'd given him exactly what he wanted. People here had been far too polite: he hasn't heard the words "shut up" in so long he was liable to forget they existed.
The boyfriend moves smoothly into the space between them. It's so cute, you oughta stick it in a Coke commercial. Richie throws the man a wink. He speaks breathily.] I was hoping you'd get close to me...
[He backs off when Red's whipping out the phone. The way Wally picks looks absolutely unremarkable to Richie, but hey. Path's a path, and as long as they come out of this with something shiny, the good man Cree will cross their palms with coins of silver.] Seems like a decent bet. Keep watch for patterns in the stones and what-have-you. Whole place is supposed to be booby trapped. You step on a bad tile and we might have to start dodging boulders.
[On that merry note Richie strides forward, one hand in his pocket and the other on the flashlight. It's not confidence pushing him forth so much as curiosity. His light flicks this way and that, and indeed he is checking for patterns. Suspicious blow dart shaped holes in the wall, drops of old blood. Anything that might give Indiana Jones gooseflesh.
The first sign of trouble is a relatively predictable one. Eventually the parchment yellow of the brick breaks for shadow, then continues on after the pause into endless twists. A gap in the floor, just long enough to make you think you could clear the jump. But take a closer look (and Richie does) and you might find that down below are all the people that assumed the same.
They're little better than bones and tattered fabric now, but the way they've curled around the stone spikes at the bottom of the pit gives you all the fuel you need to imagine how the fall felt.
Richie clucks his tongue and moves his flashlight beam back up to the wall adjacent.]
no subject
The heel presses down before he can dodge and Richie looses a yelp more befitting a trod-upon Yorkie than a man. And yet?]
Heh-heh-heh-heh... [He's suddenly giggling. The boy he'd been nearly thirty years ago makes an unexpected comeback in the high rise and the way his head ducks to hide the snicker. If you looked quick you might even catch sight of him. An optical illusion of youth, living just under the surface of this old man's skin.
It's almost as if they'd given him exactly what he wanted. People here had been far too polite: he hasn't heard the words "shut up" in so long he was liable to forget they existed.
The boyfriend moves smoothly into the space between them. It's so cute, you oughta stick it in a Coke commercial. Richie throws the man a wink. He speaks breathily.] I was hoping you'd get close to me...
[He backs off when Red's whipping out the phone. The way Wally picks looks absolutely unremarkable to Richie, but hey. Path's a path, and as long as they come out of this with something shiny, the good man Cree will cross their palms with coins of silver.] Seems like a decent bet. Keep watch for patterns in the stones and what-have-you. Whole place is supposed to be booby trapped. You step on a bad tile and we might have to start dodging boulders.
[On that merry note Richie strides forward, one hand in his pocket and the other on the flashlight. It's not confidence pushing him forth so much as curiosity. His light flicks this way and that, and indeed he is checking for patterns. Suspicious blow dart shaped holes in the wall, drops of old blood. Anything that might give Indiana Jones gooseflesh.
The first sign of trouble is a relatively predictable one. Eventually the parchment yellow of the brick breaks for shadow, then continues on after the pause into endless twists. A gap in the floor, just long enough to make you think you could clear the jump. But take a closer look (and Richie does) and you might find that down below are all the people that assumed the same.
They're little better than bones and tattered fabric now, but the way they've curled around the stone spikes at the bottom of the pit gives you all the fuel you need to imagine how the fall felt.
Richie clucks his tongue and moves his flashlight beam back up to the wall adjacent.]
Chee-rist. Either of you excel at the long jump?