labyrinth 〣 002 〣 voice

[proportioned]

[ The post opens with the sound of Ariadne's device being dropped on the ground -- a loud, metallic clatter followed by a definitive scrape. She's running maybe, that's the only explanation for the rhythmic beat to her breath which is shallow and hurried and occasionally undercut by a muttered: ] --come on, come on, come on.

[ Her footfalls

Comments

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[renegare]

[ So there Hibari was, having a gd nap. AND THEN HIS "My architect is in deep supernatural trouble of the bovine variety" ALARM RANG. It's a very reliable system. Alternatively, bro just checked the network, then promptly decided to enunciate Homicide for Dummies very. Very. Slowly. ]

Hit the floor. Take a stake to its eye.

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[proportioned]

[ Later. Much later. Much later, in fact, that Ariadne's other replies because what precisely does a fully-functional human being say to something like that. Eventually the best she can come up with is: ]

Was that a pun?

[ Stake. Steak. Whatever, it's audio. ]

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[renegare]

Is this the architect weak, or unwilling?

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[proportioned]

The architect isn't weak.

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[derpioso]

Ariadne!

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[proportioned]

[ Her response comes only after a while. When she does, though, her end of the line is no longer chaotic and filled with noise. It's quiet. Perhaps not settled, but it's still an improvement. ]

You'd better be inside, Yamamoto.

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[derpioso]

[Quiet doesn't always portend calm, but in this case, Yamamoto will take it.]

Are you hurt? What the heck was that thing?

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[proportioned]

It's nothing a few days off my feet won't fix. [ She's not the best at being reassuring, but what she lacks in that respect she makes up for in matter-of-factness. ] As for that-- [ A pause, incredulous. ] --it was a minotaur. Half man, half bull. From mythology.

LATER AFTER THE ANGEL EXPRESS

[specifics]

[ Knocking at the door means open up and from what Arthur gathered of the rampaging animals via network, knocking isn't especially in their description. Still, better safe than sorry.

...

He can't check the look-through of the door, obviously, so he pauses, hand on the deadbolt. ]

Eames? Ariadne?

[ At his heels, Pancake keeps well, running into them. ]

[shifts]

[ Knocking at the door had been a curious state of balancing Ariadne on his back, his hands usually used to support her legs around his middle. He'd knocked quickly rather than kicking at the door, considering the state of affairs outdoors, he hadn't really wanted to incite a blind man to grab a gun.

So to speak.

He adjusts Ariadne on his back, hands going back to cup under her thighs so that she doesn't put any more weight on her ankle despite her sense of dignity. ]

Yeah. Open the door, I can't reach my key.

[proportioned]

[ Despite whatever serious bodyblows (no pun intended) were afforded Ariadne's dignity when she was first hoisted up onto Eames' back, the set-up isn't entirely without benefits. For example, like this, Ariadne doesn't have to deal with Eames looking at her face (a little scraped and bruised) and she doesn't have to look at him in turn (on edge and tense like she'd seen on the first level). And it's not that she's upset (no, that wouldn't be helpful would it) but there is something breaking over her like relief as she tightens her arms around Eames' shoulders and rests her forehead against a spot right above his ear.

She is, understandably, extremely quiet and has been every since Dulcie had set her down by the entrance of Building XI. Her breathing is steady but shallow, superficial almost, across the side of Eames' face. ]

[specifics]

[ It's to everyone's fortune perhaps that Arthur can't see and reassess everything for them, like a bigger plan, like something actually in their control because that is Arthur's default and it's going to take more than a couple weeks to get him to readjust his own design, his methods. For now he only opens the door after picking up Pancake in one arm and sliding the deadbolt free with the opposite hand.

Arthur rightly assumes Eames couldn't get to his keys because he's helping Ariadne so he opens the door quite wide, allowing for any awkward movement if there is any, and if not, well, that's fine too. He says nothing however, mouth thin and if it was possible to hear someone thinking, then now would probably be the time that such a noise is heard. This place.

His hands flinch a little, a ripple of motion; he wants to see Ariadne, wants to see Eames, that they are, overall, okay but this sight through touch thing is new to him and Arthur doesn't generally go for that kind of thing, receiving or giving. He closes the door behind them

[Voice]

[auspitices]

Ariadne?

[.....]

Oh. Oh no.

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[pyromatique]

[after much contemplation... he does kind of give a damn cause hey, twin!face. as much as he dislikes Kitty for being Kitty (AND for being part of the leather geeks), it's nice to have a familiar face around]

You alive?

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[proportioned]

[ It takes a while for Ariadne to respond. She does, eventually, a few hours after the post has gone up. ]

Hi, John.

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[pyromatique]

What the fuck was all that about?

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[proportioned]

A minotaur.

[ OH SO HELPFUL. ]