Rescuing Libby -- Because He Has To

[mightymorbid]

WHO: Mozenrath, ghosts, Libby eventually
WHERE: The Lower Levels
WHEN: After her cell stopped filling up with water.
WHAT: Mozenrath is in the lower levels, alone, searching for Libby, because he's a stubborn fuck like that.

If Mozenrath knew anything, he knew dead things. Especially the unquiet dead, and while this was doubly troublesome on account

Comments

pretend the icon is of his teacher :|

[thatlibbychick]

Suddenly, from behind, a shadow fell over Mozenrath and his journal. If he turned around, he would find his mentor standing there with a withering look on his face.

HE WORE THAT SAME DRESS AND EVERYTHING. ...Wait.

[mightymorbid]

It was the sudden change in reception that tipped him off first, as there was no real reflection in the screen, and he did indeed turn -- and retreat several steps in shock. Not so much because of who it was (in fact this didn't immediately register) but because he heard no one approach.

Not that ghosts tended to have heavy footsteps if they weren't showing off.

But then he did recognize, and at first was completely uncertain how to respond to it. And perhaps it was because the last time Destane had been so strongly on his mind, he had been a child, and begging people not to send him back to him, or perhaps it was the atmosphere of the place itself, but the sorcerer seemed to shrink a little under that gaze.

"What is this?"

[thatlibbychick]

"I might ask the same. What are you doing down here, Mozenrath? Playing adventurer?"

[mightymorbid]

He chuffed, some of his bravado returning. "Hardly. I'd be wearing less and there'd be something other than my neurotic Warden at the finish line." He retreated another step, trying to size him up, determine how much he could trust his eyes and also give him plenty of room to RUN if need be.

[thatlibbychick]

Destane sneered at him, looking down at him like he was some sort of insect.

"You think you can save her?" He gave a mean-spirited laugh.

[mightymorbid]

"You know there's a reason I sewed your mouth shut."

[thatlibbychick]

"You'll die before you get her out. You always were meager in your talents."

[mightymorbid]

"SHUT. UP." He already knew he was losing his temper to something that wasn't even really someone he knew, but it hit a mark. Clenching his fists, he turned and started walking.

[thatlibbychick]

Of course, losing his mentor wasn't going to be that easy. Destane kept pace at his side, still walking silently.

"I'm almost glad I wasn't alive to see you finally and permanently outwitted by that street rat. All the knowledge I imparted upon you, and you were still such a disappointment."

[mightymorbid]

"And if that's the truth of it, and I'm the one that killed you, then what rung of the ladder does that put you on?" Mozenrath was only talking because it was keeping him from swinging. It was less that he expected words like this out of Destane -- he didn't. It's that something was pulling these things out of his head and using them. And he couldn't even feel them doing it.

[thatlibbychick]

No answer to that. Ignoring any good points he might make is all part of the game.

"And an inmate! A failure even in death."

[mightymorbid]

"Yeah, I'm still losing sleep over that." Now he was just trying to channel it out. If all they were going to do was stand around and taunt him then he could at least still work. Now he was searching the doors for any sign of numbers or other markers.

[thatlibbychick]

Destane shot out a hand and grabbed Mozenrath by the upper arm, digging his fingers in tightly.

"Watch your tone, boy," he said severely.

[mightymorbid]

This caught him off guard. For all of the things he expected these things could do, being able to touch him was not something he'd planned for, but the combined shock of being grabbed, with the voice that came with it created something akin to nostalgia if it were attached to happy memory. He simply was seven years old again, for if only half a second, kept by a Master who on a daily basis reminded him that he could hurt him and there was nothing he could do about it.

And so he turned like a shot to pull away, blinking with spooked surprise when he realized he was facing empty air.

He took half a second to get his breath and shake off the initial panic, and hurried onward.

[thatlibbychick]

Whispering followed him, seemingly in the voice of his dead mentor although no specific words could be made out.

[mightymorbid]

All right. He officially hated this port.

Mozenrath swallowed back an odd shiver, and tried to shine his light on more of the doors. "Miss Widmore?" he raised his voice a little. He already had ghosts right on top of him; he really wasn't afraid of attracting more.