So a Sheikah, a Human, and a Cajun go down into the House of the Dead...

[theeyeoftruth]

Who: Sheik, Riku, and Gambit
Where: The Graveyard, then the Shadow Temple
When: Today, morning.
Summary: The hunt for Claire leads a motley crew down into highly unpleasant territory.
Rating: Aw man idek 8| will probably contain varying levels of gore/freakiness/morbidity/Gambit.

Comments

[acegumbo]

He jumped out of the way just before the Garo followed its friends. Its words didn't send a prickle up the back of Gambit's neck, but he felt that the hairs there settling was going to feel strange after leaving this place. Not what they were looking for? Maybe it would be a wasted trip. He hoped not.

Damn, but he could use that cigarette.

Dodging the revolving blades, he followed Sheik and Riku up the ladder and into the room. The sudden blast of voices nearly made him reel, made bile rise in his throat. Was this like an assault from Xavier? Jean? If they just decided to barge into your head and drop their words in, would it feel like this? Or was it more like the sensation of Rogue's lips touching his?

No, no, no. They didn't get to use her against him. A few well-aimed cards caught the bats, pink explosions mingling with the blue flame as they died. After the noise of rustling wings and dying shrieks, the swell from the temple only came up more. The groans, low and moaning as they were, like from any good zombie flick, were almost welcome in comparison.

He pulled the lens up as Sheik played his music, freezing the Redeads in place. He shot him an appreciative look, not willing to open his mouth just in case he actually would throw up, and leaped the pits.

On the other side, as they walked between the three, his lips quirked, and he began to hum.

[theeyeoftruth]

Sheik was not so quick to simply run past. He was a Sheikah, after all, and he had his duty to attend to, that which served the living, and that which served the dead. Restless souls wander where they don't belong, bring them calm with the Sun's Song, so it went, but as it happened, it took a bit more than music. Blade in hand again, he set himself to slaying them (again, as it were), hoping to do so before they could begin moving again. At least this meant they wouldn't be followed, after all, something his fellows had apparently overlooked.

They lay on the floor, twitching as death came over them again, and he ran on to catch up, not bothering to ask about whatever irritating song Gambit was humming was. Oddly enough, it seemed to have quietened the general noise of the place a little, as if the voices were listening in. He shot the man a dubious look, a you notice it, don't you, before moving on, looking around. The corridor continued on, a straight labyrinth of hidden pits, lined with those grinning faces.

They were, Sheik reflected as he walked, the type of faces that looked to be smiling so hard it was hurting. Laughing until they ached. The spectacle did not surprise him, but it still managed to chill him, Sheikah or no, and he walked in silence, weaving through the holes in the earth that seemed to have no bottoms. Just a descent into darkness and nothing more. Not the loveliest of ideas, but it wasn't like anything down here was trying to contest that.

And then he stopped in his tracks and looked around.

"I'm not the only one noticing something distinctly wrong here, am I?"

Moreso than usual, that was.

[tbf_darktower]

The corridor has become rather devoid of holes, which is undoubtedly something nice, but... it seems to twist sharply the further you walk. Your feet will never leave the floor, there's no risk of falling or stumbling (unless you become really quite disorientated) but the arch of the walls and ceiling certainly make it feel as if you might, as if you're crawling through a corkscrew just to get to the open door at the far end.

The closer you come to that door, the louder a certain hushed scraping noise will become. It sounds like scuffing and scratching in dirt. Over and above that, if you've keen ears, you may hear clicking bones, as if a box of them is being shaken.

The room up ahead is surprisingly normal in layout. Sparsely furnished, like some of the houses in World's End. Dominating the centre of the room is a wooden table with four chairs.

In each of these chairs, a small skeleton, about the size of a child, sits. And its their bones that are clicking as they move, shuffling in their chairs and waving their arms and kicking their legs. The floor, the walls, all are shrouded by what can only be hundreds of small golden spiders, climbing over and around one another as they loop over the stone.

It certainly makes the skin crawl, but the skeletons don't seem to notice you.

No. They're too wrapped up in their conversation.

At least the music has hushed a bit, right?

Not that it's stopped seeping into your nerves, into your mind, but at least your blissfully unaware of it. Maybe you'll feel it instead of hearing it, tugging at your strings, making you think of all those little things you never want to think about.

Enter the room, and you'll likely hear the Stalchildren talking. The topic of conversation?

City gossip.

"But he only wanted to come looking because she sounds like someone he knows," one of them says sagaciously, the others nodding in agreement.

"But he's not much like his copy, is he? He should be, shouldn't he? Copies. Should be the same. Shouldn't they?"

"Shadows are never the same."

"Always taller or shorter."

"And what about them?"

And they all burst into laughter.

"They think it's dark down here, wait until they get out!"

Their laughing isn't normal laughing, of course. It's a dry, clacking sound as if bones are grinding together. But there's no mistaking it for anything but laughter.

"That one will know about it even more, oh, but it might be a break after the boat."

"And you'd think he'd know by now, heroes never last long."

"Brightest starts burn out fastest."

"But none of this has even happened yet!"

And the room rings with their laughter again, clicking bones and shifting spiders.

The only exit is in the empty hearth, currently blocked by an iron grate. Behind that, there's a long drop to the next room!

How to get rid of the grate?

Well, there must be a switch somewhere, beneath all those spiders, their bodies covered with hundred of tiny poisonous barbs that are sure to make things uncomfortable...

And the stalkids just keep talking...

[prayforprey]

"No."

And the winding and dissolution and the clapped hand over his mouth with fingers sinking into his throat chin, touching sweating skin and sending shrills along his skin. The hideous clacking and grating and tugging, tugging at everything, every part of him hidden deep down. His heart was supposed to be stronger now. He was supposed to be better. He'd told perfection, copy, Riqi-- his Replica his heart would go to the same place, but their hearts were different now, so different and winding separate paths and Riqis was in love with Naminè. How ... how ...

"Disgusting, really."

Hm? It seemed to catch Riku's attention, though there's no flicker of emotion across his face to see if he agreed one way or another. An almost steeled nature. Stars. He thought of meteor showers and promises and lucky charms and ...

"What do we do?" he rasped out between harsh breaths as he crouched over, leaning his elbow on a knee. "What do I do..."

[acegumbo]

No, no Sheik wasn't. Gambit ceased his humming and cocked his head to one side. He wasn't about to say the obvious, but damn, that was one twisted room. Part of him almost did want to say it, followed by a laugh, adding to the tense atmosphere. He didn't know why, really. Maybe because he deserved to be vindictive for once, because why should he always have to be the one taking the fall when he just did what he knew he had to, and -

Shit. Where was the music?

His head was spinning, the words of the Stalchildren scraping against his skull like bone ground against bone. The scritching and scraping of the spiders wound him up tight, until he could almost feel them crawling up his legs, along his back, down his front...

And then there was Rogue's laugh, a tad harsher than normal. "Feelin' a bit thrown there, swamp rat?"

It was a dick move, to put it mildly, but it was one he almost needed used against him. His eyes seemed to flash scarlet, pops of kinetic energy bursting around his fists, which were clenched to knuckle-whiteness.

"You fellas shuttin' up dem skeletons," he said, and he crouched, thrusting his hands into the mass of writhing spiders, "I be makin' some sparkles."

It was much harder to charge living matter than it was to charge inanimate objects, but it was doable. The scuttling legs and barbs didn't bother the Cajun; the static shocks were enough to keep the stingers at bay. But then a few spiders began to shimmer with pink, the exoskeletons lighting up. It slowly spread, a small radius around Gambit, the spiders spreading the charge to each other.

And then they all exploded.

[theeyeoftruth]

Sheik was the least affected of the three - he heard the voices, felt it all, but part of him was intimately tied and bound to this place, even if it was not in Hyrule. This had been a place of his people, after all. But oh, they still pulled at him, tugged and yanked as if he was made of a thousand threads, woven from nerves. Goddesses. Three arrows. Link. Naoto, turning away, and Zack just ceasing to be, and Impa with that damned smile. And he could feel fire flaring up around him where there was none, fire like in the desert, I won't forgive you!

Pink. The fire was pink, and he snapped out of his reverie to see Gambit making fireworks of the skulltulas, and Riku bent over. At the table, the stalchildren went on heedless. In fact, the sight of the exploding spiders was almost funny, magenta coloured sparks going off in the air as they were blasted to pieces in succession. The switch, as of it, was nowhere to be seen. "Riku," he said, his voice clear and firm over the tumult of rattling bones and scraping insects, "somewhere, there has to be a switch. We activate it and the grate will open."

So he hoped, anyway. He'd followed Link through such things enough times, after all. But this was place was taking its toll on them, on all of them. "Help Gambit find it." As for him? It was the lyre he reached for again, and this time the song he played was gentle, soft, and soothing, even in this dark. In fact, it may even have managed to nullify some of what was going on around them.

The stalchildren fell quiet, skulls rolling from one side to the other.

"Do you hear that?"

"I wish they'd stop that racket!"

It was, at least, a break from the gossip.

[prayforprey]

Taking a hesitant step back from the exploding spiders and Gambit's questionable commentary, he glanced towards Sheik when he heard his name. "Yeah," was the only response, eying the man's instrument for a moment. It was only passing curiosity as Riku jumped up and seemed to disappear from the naked eye with his quickness. As though atoms had rematerialized, he appeared above the table the child skeletons and landed with a soft tip-tap.

Sorry to ruin your meal, he snorted hatefully within his own mind, promptly snapping his leg upward and kicking off one of the skulls of the bare-boned enemies. He watched it ricochet about stone walls for a moment until he noticed the spiders looming ever closer. Eyes went out carefully, swinging his blade like a pendulum and snorting.

"This is pointless," he snorted and sent a quick glance at Gambit. For guys who worked alone, their teamwork certainly showed. So with that smirk, he nodded at the man, knowing he would understand. Seeming to disappear and reappear again, this time with his back pressed against Gambit and guarding the spiders from his hind-side. "Go right."

So Riku would go left. All along the walls, dragging his blade and riveting open even the stone in a deep wound, a gauge that he could swear the Temple itself was grimacing at him for. He would meet Gambit on the opposite end of the room, and there ...

Well, it'd be more than just sparkles.

[acegumbo]

Sheik's song helped clear his head a little, and it was enough to do what he had to. He met Riku's smirk with one of his own, and headed right as he was instructed. Energy swirled around his hands, sending small parts of the wall exploding in shimmers of magenta light. The spiders seethed underneath and the Stalchildren rattled, and Gambit and Riku met in the middle of the room.

Pink 'fire' and blue-black Aura met in an explosion that swept the room, frying the spiders as they skittered and scuttled for the door, incinerating the muttering Stalchildren where they sat. Even the music and voices were quelled for that moment, explosions rife and flickering through the room, clearing it completely.

Last to go, last targeted, were the faces on the walls. They hissed out of existence, licked up in the flames of Riku's Dark Aura and the sparks of Gambit's energy. The Temple seemed to release a low, echoing moan there, as if damaged. As if hurting, and plotting vengence.

And then it was over. Gambit was dropping down as he saw the switch. He hit it with his foot.

"Pretty impressive stuff, mon ami," he shot at Riku, and then raised his head. "Sheik! Comment ça va, ma belle dame?"

[tbf_darktower]

The grate barring the hole in the floor crumbles and falls apart, leaving the way ahead clear. The way ahead, as it happens, is just another pit - one that you must drop down.

The drop is a steep slope, and the stone gives little hand or footholds. No, you may find yourself sliding down a great deal of this - but the passage wriggles and twists. If you've no bruises yet, you're sure to find some. More worrying still, however, are the other obstacles lining this place. Blades stick out from the corners you're like to fall into, and in other places areas of rock fall in to try and crush you.

And sometimes the drop is just that, a drop, a fall to the next run of corridors. Some are frosty, ice cold, come searing hot to touch. And the music has risen to a crescendo, crushing and oppressive, as if it could pull you apart.

As you tumble down, the voices ringing in your ears, arms will reach out to you, seeming to offer salvation. But they only want to snare you, catch you, pull you in to nothing, and if you're not careful, they may well manage! The limbs are dead white, scarred and bloated or bone thin, some of them only ghosts that skip through your form.

All in all, it's a very Sheikah sort of obstacle course.

When you come out the other side, you'll be in a long corridor lined with fluttering curtains...

Strange. There is no breeze down here, after all.

[theeyeoftruth]

Dodging the burning wave of pink and darkness had been novel, and he offered a small, appreciative nod of their handiwork. That being enouigh to express it, he was now kneeling in the hearth, clearing away the remains of the grate that had blocked their way. Gambit's question went unanswered, partially because he was considering himself busy investigating, and partially because even if he didn't know French, he found himself understand the man's words. Instead he peered down into the passageway, which was lit with torches of blue fire on the walls.

"Goddesses," he muttered, his tone mild. "It appears we face an indeterminable drop rigged with traps." Warning thus given, he ensured his lyre was soundly tucked in place before he began to drop into it. "It may be wise for us to try to keep together." The music was swelling around them, throbbing in his ears. He shook his head, decided waiting would not make it any more pleasant, and disappeared from sight.

The first fall, as it happened, was a long way.

And the bottom, as it happened, was lined with knives, gleaming in the eerie blue light.

He caught himself on a ledge and rolled sidewards, and now there was at least a floor to speak of. But it was a steep slope, and he skidded down a few steps before managing to continue on at a run, swinging his body beneath the arc of what he'd guessed, during the few moments he'd seen it, to be an axe.

There was nothing else to do but keep going and hope for the best.

[prayforprey]

"Darkness and light." The words came quickly, more to himself than in an actual response to Gambit's commentary. Intertwined. Working together, just like he and Sora always did. Sure, Gambit was a whole different beast all together, and his light was ... an off-light, almost. But it worked for the purposes, and Sheik wasn't as much a ... fighter, it seemed. Not quite brawn. He had the intelligence of this place, and he was the one keeping them all alive, surely. "Great," he sighs out, a touch of dejection. He watches Sheik disappear, looks at Gambit with a shrug, and leaps himself as his Keyblade disappears. Clearly he's going to need both hands.

"Whoa!" he cries out as he observes the knives and the way Sheik swings. He summons his blade again and digs it into the stones and slides down, the force of impact guiding him down and slowing almost effortlessly. He dangles from one arm, hissing at fresh wounds from grated skin.

Damn, he growls inwardly. But he sees the Sheikah dodge the ax and ... well, even Riku knows axes have to hang from somewhere. So as it repeats its descent in that pendulum shape, Riku jumps on it and stands for a moment during its down swing, moving his body fluidly with it. He doesn't trust it to last long, but it'll suffice to assure himself that Gambit remains steady and to see where Sheik's going next, the corridors he follows.

[acegumbo]

Well, if it wasn't enough to make you vomit...

Gambit didn't, though he swallowed the acid burn of bile back. He hadn't had vertigo this bad in quite some time. The rising of music and hissing voices grew louder as he approached the grate, and by the time he had swung in after Riku, they sounded like they were shouting and blasting beside his ears.

He saw the knives, saw the axe, and saw Riku leaping to it. His hand slipped into his coat and drew out a card, which he began to charge. It thrummed with a bright, bright pink light, which the blue werelight swirled around,trying to crush back into nonexistence. He slipped past the axe, card still charging and glowing bright. He felt it tingling his fingers, and with his other hand, he drew out the staff. Stretching it to its full length, he jammed it into the walls of the slide, much like Riku had done.

"Mes amis! Look out below!"

The card dropped at an angle, slipping down the shaft and granting them a better view of it. Jagged edges and junctions for booby traps abound. The card caught on a sudden jutting of thigh-long knives, causing an explosion further down. Thankfully, none of them were currently near it.

He nodded to Riku and let go, slipping back down the chute behind Sheik.

[theeyeoftruth]

In one of Sheik's little moments of morbid optimism, he reflected that there was some good to this little assault course: it took your mind off the music a little, gave you something else to steal your focus. When you were battering down a passageway lined with blades and all manner of other pleasantries, it tended to push some of the ensnaring song out of your head. And even now it was harder, more rhythmic, rather than sneaking into your mind. Altogether easier to work with.

Bracing himself with gauntletted hands on the flat of one of those vicious long knives, he swung beneath their reach and down, plummeting down another drop and narrowly avoiding breaking his neck as he caught his weight on a pole and threw himself sidewards and on. Stumbling down the passageway with little of his usual grace, he suddenly found himself falling once more. It tore a brief, alarmed shout from his throat as he tumbled down, and he barely managed, once more, to stop himself breaking every bone in his body when he landed heavily.

At least he had the presence of mind to roll out of the way of whoever was following after him.

The next room was long, the end of it shrouded in darkness even as this side was lit. Worn curtains fluttered on the walls despite the lack of a breath of air to stir them, dulled purple made pale over time. The floor was littered, littered with bone and pieces of broken wood, steel bound rafters that were not uncommon in this place. Sheik looked around, took in the stirring ash on the floor, the dust, but his eyes were drawn once more to the curtains. He definitely didn't like those.

[tbf_darktower]

Behind every one of the curtains, is an alcove. And in that alcove, were you able to look, is a barrage of weapons, spears and darts most likely edged in some kind of poison, if the congealed sheen on each edge is to be believed. Look up! The ceiling is riddled with them too, a distant, dull gleam in the werelight that exists down here.

Walk out into the hallway proper, and you’re about to become the home for far too many blades.

The chanting all around seems to echo a warning without words.

Yes, somehow, the place is rigged to be motion-sensitive. Rash moves will only earn you death.

But, at least the door at the far end is unlocked.

[prayforprey]

The collapse of limb and tendon and muscle jarred him, the fall without a grace, the sinking feeling of skin coiling in a way it shouldn't. He was mentally cursing again, hissing all those words both Sora and his mother would scold him for but his father would look on with a quiet, unspoken pride. ... What a weird time to think about that. He cried out at the sharpness of pain, narrowly having time to really react through it's cloud and keep himself from falling into twin pendulum blades. He blocked thoughts from himself, strange things like hoping for a King to show up or even a light in the darkness and it was still as he slid, slid that he managed to get the quick sip of a potion, coughing down the bitter.

Ah, but watch out, Riku. He lands, all knees and buckling weight, finally as the dizzying spiral comes to an end. A slow, sloowwww raise in shaking legs and he had tried to catch labored breath. Somewhat replenished from the potion, at least enough to amend the bruised ribs he was sure he'd just gotten, he offered one of the glowing vials for Gambit and Sheik to share.

Looking about the HellSlide™'s destination, he tried to observe what he could while he had the chance. As Sheik made inward commentary about dislike of curtains, Riku approached the wafting fabric to peek. Perplexed when he saw obscure shapes, he drew it back more fully to catch a better glimpse.

(Fff why did this not notify me sooner >:[)

[acegumbo]

He was going to have a shirt of black and blue over his skin by the time this was done, not to mention a few superficial scrapes. But done eventually came, and Gambit landed in a graceless heap, springing back up and cracking his long limbs. He missed the days when he could land on top of Rogue, very suddenly. Hell, even Storm, when she was snap at him for telling her that they had to stop meeting in such a way.

He dusted himself off. "Well," he said, looking over at Sheik, "My people are known f'r gettin' dere tits out fo' beads. I t'ink I be preferin' my folks' ways. Not meanin' ta sound culturally insensitive or anyt'ing..."

Gambit would have been quite content to ramble on and slowly work proper motion back into his cramped arms, but Riku was already pulling the curtain back. It didn't really come as a surprise when the gleaming tips of spears and arrows and whatever else were in that arsenal began apparent. He sighed. The music had warned them, hadn't it?

"Well... bettah safer den sorry, ah? Stand back, mes amis." He gestured for them to stand well clear of the first alcove, and pulled out a card. Satisfied that they were out of the way, he threw it into the room.

The smooth click and whirr of machinery could be heard, and then the harsh thunking and zipping of tens of sharp, pointy and very deadly things shooting across the room.

When all was still, there wasn't a trace of the card.

"Well," he said, against, bracingly, "Dat solves dat."