....there's absolutely no reason the doors at the back of the chapel should be dinging, because that makes no sense, but realistically it really doesn't matter - it's a place without statues and Eden will take it, thank you, even though they don't even have to push the doors open, even though they slide open as though they've been waiting, and it's
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Comments 14
He can handle spiders, ordinarily (as long as they're not snakes. It's snakes that Mohinder positively cannot deal with.) But nothing about this situation is fucking ordinary, okay, and he's about as on-edge as he can possibly get without just falling off.
He drags himself to his feet with no small effort, squeezing Eden's shoulder on his way up because he can't pull her with him, and something falls into his hair. SPIDERS. IN HIS FUCKING HAIR. OH JESUS. He claws at it, trying to get them the fuck out, but it's not a spider, for a change, just...a slip of paper. He calms down, if only because it's really hard to breathe, and holds the note out to Eden so they can read it together.
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On the lips and hearts of every child a name is written: hers is death. Find her first sin, and find the way.
Eden goes goggle-eyed at Mohinder for several moments, which is only exacerbated by the fact that the spiders are really close to inducing hyperventilation. She punches one of the buttons experimentally, just in case, you know, "L" means Lobby or something useful, rather than cryptic horrible, thanks very much Antinora.
Nothing happens. So....that's helpful.
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"Everything this place has put us through, and now it expects us to solve--" He pauses to angrily smack a spider off his arm, winces, and clutches his injured ribs. "--fucking riddles?Yes, Mohinder, it would seem so. Shut your yap about it and think ( ... )
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...but at least it reacted to him, which is something. She's not, nor has she ever been, a practicing Jew, but she did have a few relatives who were, and as such is really familiar with all those cute jokes about Eve.
Eden always kind of liked her. But they've already tried something close, so that can't be it. She's trying to think of someone who has death written on their lips...poison, maybe, or the wrong words....
...words.
It's not there, not yet, but it's buzzing around the edges of her mind like one of those spiders, tickling, pressing in and she doesn't want to think, but 'on her heart,' where had her voice been for 17 years ( ... )
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