(Untitled)

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon lunges through the door, crowbar in hand, and immediately trips over one of the rats. As he pushes himself to his feet and makes a muttered apology, the door vanishes behind him.

Damn it. And he was sure he'd seen that wretch in the suit on board the Borealis, too.

Comments

Millitimed like you wouldn't even.

[md_donighal]

Michael's reached him by the time he's back upright. "Anything I can do?" He notices the crowbar. "Such as helping you find whomever has that coming?"

Re: Millitimed like you wouldn't even.

[acts_of_gord]

"Is he here?" Gordon says as he comes to his feet. "The greyface?"

Re: Millitimed like you wouldn't even.

[md_donighal]

Michael's face becomes a cold mask, with flames flickering about his eyes. "Fortunately for That Thing, I didn't see it come in. Nor am I detecting any of the other sensory impressions I got from it the one time we met in poorly-disguised-as-a-person. Sorry, Gordon; I'm sure there'll be another time.

"Unless it runs afoul of the head of security before then. I told the head of security, a while back, about it grabbing you out of here, and sending back those of us who'd come to City 17; he said he'd be watching for it. Since he's a fully accredited god, he should be able to keep up with it better than even I. He said as if modesty were only something he'd heard about."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon nods. "I thought I saw him," he says. "On the ship. I was running after him, and I wound up here..." He rubs at his face. "This is exactly what he did in Black Mesa. Appear just long enough to catch my attention, then vanish. exactly."

[md_donighal]

Michael looks even less happy to hear that. "Which presumably means it has a lot to do in a very short time, so can't be bothered with details like the illusion of distance in three-dimensional space. Which, in turn, may mean we arrive in Mongolia to find ourselves sabotaged in advance." Palm-punch. "I'm truly sorry, Gordon; I should've at least tried to kill it when it grabbed me."