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Water/Stone
Jun. 13th, 2012 09:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deadlyoriginThey hadn’t meant to get separated, but now that they were it seemed to Natasha their only choice was to move forward. There sure as hell didn’t seem to be a way back, and the heavy granite door scraping open before them made the decision easy.
“Alright folks,” she nodded to Steve as he stepped forward to look into the new room with her, his instructions welcome. She trusted him, and it took a lot to earn that trust, “easy does it. Stay close and let’s not get split up again.”
It was his way to take charge and even though the short and burly man - Logan, a name that rang a bell she didn’t have time to focus on now - grumbled, they all stepped into the dark stone tunnel. As they passed, she ran her fingers across the door, over the squid that stood out from the slab in relief. It was an impressive bit of carving, she thought, as she made her way with the others down through the tunnel.
The rush of water was unmistakable, slapping and moving against the hard stone, trying to make its way through. Water would destroy the rock eventually, she knew that, wondering how long this water had been eating away at the granite. The tunnel widened and windows were cut low and narrow. They let in light but also let in the damp, and through those they could all see what was below. It seemed they were walking over a river.
“Peachy,” she muttered, looking back to the blondes, “watch your step. It’s slippery here.”
The tunnel ended at a narrow ledge, the edge of a tall square room. Pillars edged it, part of a walkway perhaps, but spaced too far for her to jump. It was likely the same for Rogers considering his nanite induced condition. Down below it was dark but she could just make out what seemed to be the desiccated form of some kind of sea creature. Long dead it seemed, just like this place, the air stale and damp and warm all at once. There were the sounds of rats - not dead unfortunately - and the other girl pointed out what seemed to be a crocodile.
Natasha wandered to the wall, brushing her hand over the brick and looking up. The dim light filtered in from high above, small sconces that didn’t seem to hold candles or any way out, but still provided them with some illumination. Strange, but she’d seen stranger, there were a dozen types of fungus that could provide a glow like that. Cambodia in the warm season, they were lucky it wasn’t raining. The last time she’d been in Cambodia- She cut off that thought, looking to the men and then back to the lever above them.
“Give me a boost.” It was just high enough that she couldn’t reach it easily, that none of them could. Rogers was the first to react, lifting her so she could yank down the heavy bar of steel that had somehow not rusted. It ground, the stones behind moving and giving way, unseen gears turning as she pulled with every bit of her might. What they heard next wasn’t good.
“Oh fuck,” she swore, English this time, dropping back to the ground as the first trickle of water escaped from a duct. One trickle and then it was like a monsoon, the water pouring from the spouts in the walls, filling the stone chasm beneath them. “Well that sucks.”
“Alright folks,” she nodded to Steve as he stepped forward to look into the new room with her, his instructions welcome. She trusted him, and it took a lot to earn that trust, “easy does it. Stay close and let’s not get split up again.”
It was his way to take charge and even though the short and burly man - Logan, a name that rang a bell she didn’t have time to focus on now - grumbled, they all stepped into the dark stone tunnel. As they passed, she ran her fingers across the door, over the squid that stood out from the slab in relief. It was an impressive bit of carving, she thought, as she made her way with the others down through the tunnel.
The rush of water was unmistakable, slapping and moving against the hard stone, trying to make its way through. Water would destroy the rock eventually, she knew that, wondering how long this water had been eating away at the granite. The tunnel widened and windows were cut low and narrow. They let in light but also let in the damp, and through those they could all see what was below. It seemed they were walking over a river.
“Peachy,” she muttered, looking back to the blondes, “watch your step. It’s slippery here.”
The tunnel ended at a narrow ledge, the edge of a tall square room. Pillars edged it, part of a walkway perhaps, but spaced too far for her to jump. It was likely the same for Rogers considering his nanite induced condition. Down below it was dark but she could just make out what seemed to be the desiccated form of some kind of sea creature. Long dead it seemed, just like this place, the air stale and damp and warm all at once. There were the sounds of rats - not dead unfortunately - and the other girl pointed out what seemed to be a crocodile.
Natasha wandered to the wall, brushing her hand over the brick and looking up. The dim light filtered in from high above, small sconces that didn’t seem to hold candles or any way out, but still provided them with some illumination. Strange, but she’d seen stranger, there were a dozen types of fungus that could provide a glow like that. Cambodia in the warm season, they were lucky it wasn’t raining. The last time she’d been in Cambodia- She cut off that thought, looking to the men and then back to the lever above them.
“Give me a boost.” It was just high enough that she couldn’t reach it easily, that none of them could. Rogers was the first to react, lifting her so she could yank down the heavy bar of steel that had somehow not rusted. It ground, the stones behind moving and giving way, unseen gears turning as she pulled with every bit of her might. What they heard next wasn’t good.
“Oh fuck,” she swore, English this time, dropping back to the ground as the first trickle of water escaped from a duct. One trickle and then it was like a monsoon, the water pouring from the spouts in the walls, filling the stone chasm beneath them. “Well that sucks.”
