[ The coffin itself would certainly be enough to draw up Tim short as well, but if there's the DO NOT OPEN on it, there's an extra step back. He remembers that statement. ]
[Whatever apprehension the two have is clearly not shared by the cat. He's almost desperately pawing at it trying to have it open, even as the burns begin to settle into his skin.
When it's clear it won't budge, he cried a loud meow up at the both.
[ But fine! FINE!! He hates every part of this and also both of you. After a moment more, Algric goes to Tim's side and puts his shoulder into it too. ]
[With both their helps, the lid starts slowly sliding off until it thunks heavily on the floor on the other side. And inside is... stairs. Steps going straight down into darkness, with a cool breeze coming up from it.
The cat starts taking the first two steps down, then calls back out to them a a small light becomes visible further down.]
[Once the lid is closed, the light goes out completely, leaving them in a weighted darkness. The chill picks up stronger as they go down the long steps. But the way is straight forward with no turns or changes in the size of the corridor.
They do eventually come to the source of the light: another door. This one being the front door of a flat. The cold is radiating even stronger from it and the light inside is at least a change.]
[ Of all of the horrors they've run across from Algric's first disappearance, the Buried is a new one to Tim. He sticks close to Algric, even though the snap of his back and forth with the other man is wholly due to the pressure and tension pushing on both of them.
He does, though, if the way is straight and narrow, attempt to pick up the cat on the way... if the cat lets him. Both to pet AND to see if there's anything to be done about the wounds. ]
Another door...
[ Something about the cold keeps him a step or two back. ]
[ Algric is NOT HAPPY all the way down. There's a low rumble of complaint coming from him as they take each step further and further down ... but at least the complaints begin to taper as walls don't close in on them. And then.
And then, there's this door. Is that cold ... familiar? Either way, he's pausing to tend to catte as well. ]
[It almost seemed like the cat wasn't there at all... Seemingly melted into the darkness around them.
But at the words, there's a shuffle and a small noise at their feet. Almost pitiful before he lays down, exhausted and drained and breathing hard but eyes focused on them.]
[ Oh. Oh, that poor thing. Algric turns from the door for a moment to hover close to the cat as he lies down. The biting cold of his hands may be uncomfortable, but he has to try. ]
Good. Poor little guy. Let me ... let me see if I can do anything.
[ Gently, delicately, he presses fingers to the worst of it, trying to soothe. ]
[There's an uncomfortable whine at the touch, immediately tensing and trying to squirm away. But then the cool hits the burns and numbs it, soothing the pain suddenly. The cat settles there, breathing slowing a bit.
When the frost starts to catch on his fur, he starts to stand again. He's shaky and tired, but. Improvement. After a second he looks up at them both and sits waiting.]
[If the situation wasn't quite so dire, the cat would give in to how touch starved it is. As things are, he leans up into the scritch, moving to rub against Algric's legs soaking up that cold happily.
He'll look a little worse for wear for a while, but for the moment? The dream cat seems fine.]
The door itself is nondescript. A simple door to a flat with no peep hole. Otherwise, it is set in solid darkness around it. Once inside, though...
It opens to a living room, a bit empty save for a coffee table and a set of very, very uncomfortable looking chairs. There is a small breakfast bar with the Archive breakroom kitchen on the other side, and a hallway leading to a bedroom and bath. A fairly normal, amalgamation of a house-breakroom-flat.
The fog is drifting through slowly, obscuring some parts. But the real problem is that the room is almost completely frozen over. A layer of ice covers everything - the chairs, the counters, the knickknacks and tableware alike. Even the photos framed on the wall are frozen to it, hard to make out the faces. The table by the door has a small frozen pile of a black hat, gloves, and scarf. And on the coffee table sits a pair of unadorned rings, frozen solid. Someone, at some point, had been cooking in the kitchen because here and there are ice encased plates of scones, muffins, mugs of tea untouched and frozen solid. The icicles hanging from the light fixtures would be a problem for anyone too tall, making the rooms seem a bit smaller than they really are.
The cat moves to stand more between Tim and Algric for the warmth, but lets them enter first.]
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[ Okay, they're hurrying, that's good. They need to get out of here, so -
Oh. Oh no. Hell no. Algric draws up short at the coffin, then takes a step back. ]
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[ The coffin itself would certainly be enough to draw up Tim short as well, but if there's the DO NOT OPEN on it, there's an extra step back. He remembers that statement. ]
Uh...
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When it's clear it won't budge, he cried a loud meow up at the both.
Come onnnnn]
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Algric is still frozen for a critical moment, shaking his head. ]
No - no - I won't - don't you two go in either -
[ Does he really have a choice? They can't stay here either. ]
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[ He really puts his back in this time, feet crackling in the concrete, wax and cinders. ]
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[ But fine! FINE!! He hates every part of this and also both of you. After a moment more, Algric goes to Tim's side and puts his shoulder into it too. ]
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The cat starts taking the first two steps down, then calls back out to them a a small light becomes visible further down.]
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And... I don't think this cat's going to make it back across.
[ And somehow, that seems a greater risk. He steps in after the strange black furred helper. ]
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That was true. Damn it. And regardless of whether this was literally Jon or not, Algric was unwilling to risk him.
He makes a miserable noise before descending into the darkness after the other two, closing the coffin lid behind him. ]
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They do eventually come to the source of the light: another door. This one being the front door of a flat. The cold is radiating even stronger from it and the light inside is at least a change.]
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He does, though, if the way is straight and narrow, attempt to pick up the cat on the way... if the cat lets him. Both to pet AND to see if there's anything to be done about the wounds. ]
Another door...
[ Something about the cold keeps him a step or two back. ]
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And then, there's this door. Is that cold ... familiar? Either way, he's pausing to tend to catte as well. ]
How - how is the little guy?
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But at the words, there's a shuffle and a small noise at their feet. Almost pitiful before he lays down, exhausted and drained and breathing hard but eyes focused on them.]
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"Not great."
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Good. Poor little guy. Let me ... let me see if I can do anything.
[ Gently, delicately, he presses fingers to the worst of it, trying to soothe. ]
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When the frost starts to catch on his fur, he starts to stand again. He's shaky and tired, but. Improvement. After a second he looks up at them both and sits waiting.]
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God. Good.
[ And then, lower and humbled. ] Thank you.
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[ He gives Joncat a gentle scritch between the ears. ]
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He'll look a little worse for wear for a while, but for the moment? The dream cat seems fine.]
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So... forward?
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Forward. Yeah. I'm ready if you are.
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Yeah...
[ And steps around them to check out the door. ]
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The door itself is nondescript. A simple door to a flat with no peep hole. Otherwise, it is set in solid darkness around it. Once inside, though...
It opens to a living room, a bit empty save for a coffee table and a set of very, very uncomfortable looking chairs. There is a small breakfast bar with the Archive breakroom kitchen on the other side, and a hallway leading to a bedroom and bath. A fairly normal, amalgamation of a house-breakroom-flat.
The fog is drifting through slowly, obscuring some parts. But the real problem is that the room is almost completely frozen over. A layer of ice covers everything - the chairs, the counters, the knickknacks and tableware alike. Even the photos framed on the wall are frozen to it, hard to make out the faces. The table by the door has a small frozen pile of a black hat, gloves, and scarf. And on the coffee table sits a pair of unadorned rings, frozen solid. Someone, at some point, had been cooking in the kitchen because here and there are ice encased plates of scones, muffins, mugs of tea untouched and frozen solid. The icicles hanging from the light fixtures would be a problem for anyone too tall, making the rooms seem a bit smaller than they really are.
The cat moves to stand more between Tim and Algric for the warmth, but lets them enter first.]
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