fh_dungeon | Dungeon Residential Camps, Somewhere, Friday

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day 4

Dungeon Residential Camps, Somewhere, Friday

A strong wind tore through the hallways. Inside the camps, it was only audible: no breeze flicked into the large chambers themselves. Outside them, though, torches would flicker on and off on their own whim, exposing the dungeon's residents to errant grues.

There was something to be celebrated, though: when the maze shifted overnight, its paths crossed and connected all three camps. Time for a reunion.

[ camp one | camp two | camp three | ooc as of yesterday, everyone in camp 1 is free to assume they know about the first key and the vault. ]

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Sam had found enough food and weapons yesterday to not be too concerned about getting out and looking for more today. Contributing to that was the fact that she had a bit of a stomachache -- it seemed the blue milk hadn't quite sat right with her, which only made sense, because, well, it was blue milk.

She sat herself by the fireplace and did her best, as always, to look like she was handling everything well.

Gert took two steps down the hallway and paused. Yeah, was it just her, or were these hallways even creepier than yesterday?

Scratch that question: Gert was positive that it wasn't just her.

Looking miserable at having to do it, she took a deep breath and set off at a run.

Kitty had a project today. She still hadn't gotten a hold of a weapon, so she was making one. She'd gotten a hold of some random things yesterday, and after sharpening the letter opener to a point, she was trying to secure the new blade to her hand with a necklace chain and some paperclips in a way that wouldn't be uncomfortable or fall apart if she actually had to use it on anything. If this didn't work she could use the letter opener as a knife, but she tended to want to keep her hands free here.

Also it was keeping her mind off yesterday and the fact that she could totally be sliding into a bad mood, so there.

Yesterday Maddie had watched herself get tortured, and she wasn't really dealing too well with that today. If anyone else got to that room, she was willing to bet they weren't dealing too well with things either.

So maybe that was frowning when she was looking at the figurines. Or maybe she was just wondering about the kraken and wondering how the hell someone was changing these while they were right here.

Yesterday had sucked and Jaina didn't want to talk about it. At least Oprah had distracted her from dealing with having Myrkr dragged back up and thrown at her?

She was checking the charge on her blasters and then she was going back out. Hopefully before anyone could ask her if she went crazy yesterday.

"So uh, did you go crazy yesterday?"

Sucks to be you, Jaina! Although to Mike's credit, he looked sincerely concerned.

Of course.

Jaina sighed, then looked up at him. "No. One of the rooms was filled with gremlins," she explained.

Oh, they were still here? Bummer.

Mike looked groggy as he started getting up from his alcove. Time to face new challenges, he guessed, but seriously, they needed to get out of here already.

This? Was the confused look of someone who was still somehow new enough to Fandom to not know what that meant. Lucky him.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I think you're gonna have to explain a bit more. Filled with what now?"

Jaina blinked. "You don't know what a gremlin is?"

SHE WAS SO JEALOUS.

Yes, he had a friend. One who was just now bringing over a portion of what little there was in the way of scavenged breakfast to share. Less for any need to take care of him, specifically, than for her general need to keep doing useful things to assert some control over the situation.

"Here."

Mike shrugged and held up his hands, like what could you do?

"Sorry, no."

Food was food. Peter wasn't about to question her motives. "Thanks," he said, and made at least a modicum of effort not to pull a face at how little there was. "Hunger pains are a marubo."

"You are so lucky," she said. "They're these little green things, they show up in Fandom a lot. They bite you, and their venom makes you hallucinate that you're something else. Like apparently Oprah."

Ugh.

"Ohhh." Well, yes, that sounded... both bad and pretty accurate. Still, he gave her a wry smile. "Well, for what it's worth, you made a really good Oprah. Feeling better?"

"This whole place is an hostie," Natalie replied. Like someone who'd spent enough time around the Montreal francophones and was homesick. "I'm going back out today. The dungeon owes me something for yesterday."

For the days before it, too.

"You're going to will it into playing nice?" Peter asked skeptically. "Not that I'm about to jump in front of a stubborn woman with a bone to pick, but..."

"I'm not expecting it to play nice." Because that was probably not going to happen. "But I'm not going to let that stop me."

"Yes. Luckily it was only one bite," Jaina said. "And if I run into any more, I'm just going to start shooting."

"I'm thinking wandering around this place is probably not going to end well for me," Peter admitted. Which was true, and he knew it. "Good luck to you, though."

"Yeah, it's not pleasant for those of us with physical skills, either," she said. "But my current bruises should keep me remembering that. So I'll come back."

That was mostly a promise to herself.

"How'd you get hurt?" Peter asked curiously. And it was actual curiosity; he'd leave the fussing to someone who was good at it.

"Hanging in there, luv?" Jono had been attempting to check in on everyone that was looking particularly vulnerable since they'd gotten trapped in this bloody place, which meant that people who were more or less able to hold their chins up and keep on keeping on were tabled for at least a little while. "It's been one hell of a week."

He was looking fairly tired, himself. But at least he was clothed, and he'd managed to scrounge together food here and there over the past few days. If a handbag full of orange TicTacs counted, anyhow.

Jono was starting to really hate orange TicTacs.

Oh, Cade of all people had already handled all (which was not much) that could be considered even close to fussing over her injuries. It was enough.

She glanced at him and twisted her lips a bit. "I can tell you, but it might put you in a mood if I do."

"I think I'll live, whatever it is," Peter said, propping himself up further.

At least the gravity was back to normal.

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Dungeon Residential Camps, Somewhere, Friday

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Re: Camp One - Corridors Out Of Camp One

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