kayakking | (no subject)

[The moth nods, leaning his head against each of theirs before starting to pull away.]

Um. The... Where you have to go. Do either of you have a torch?

[ Algric reluctantly detaches then. ]

I have my mobile?

That could work.

[He's still keeping one or two hands on the both of them, like he's scared to let go now that he made contact. But he looks around because there isn't... really much of use in here. Looks back to them both.]

Then I can take you, whenever you're ready. I just can't go in with you.

[ Tim looks first up and Jon and then to Algric. There is something... safe about this area but-

the image they walked into is still bright in his mind. Oh, oh Jon is ALSO getting an argument. After they make sure his dumb ass is safe. ]

... Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.

What are we going to be up against?

I’d like to know that too.

[ Algric gets out his mobile then, and checks the light: seems to work. ]

[Jon looks to them both, antennae working as he thinks of how to... explain this.]

It- It isn't. Quite so much a... 'Final boss' sort of thing as it is... Hm. You've both walked through a lot of his-my marks already. But.

[He leans down to be eye level with them both.]

What was the first to mark us? That is what grips us. It's why we were here to start with.

[ He knows that there was a story, something that traumatized him young, the bully snatched but... No, that's not how the Eye operates, is it.

... But this isn't an area where Tim will risk a guess. He shakes his head slightly and looks to Algric. ]

[ Oh. Oh god. Algric knows, of course; he goes even paler than … well. ]

That’s - that’s going to be Web, then.

[He nods to Algric.]

Right. The Spider. So, I-i... I can't go in there.

[He starts to wring his main hands nervously, then stops and finds something else to keep them busy but two of his smaller hands lower down start to wring nervously. Hoping they don't notice.]

I'm.. Y'know, a um. Bit of a meal to spiders like this. So. I can take you to the door, just... Be careful.

[ A bit of a meal... this giant fluffy winged Jon. How big is this spider? ]

We will... but.

Before we were warned that everything in here is you. ... Does this mean no killing the spider?

[A thoughtful pause, while he considers. He can never know the 'what if' of anything, but he can speculate.]

Everything you've seen and walked through has either been a part of me, or something I carried. If there was one thing specifically you had to destroy?

[He looks Tim dead in the eyes.]

Kill the Spider.

[ God. Algric shivers at that but. ]

We’ll do it. If we can.

[ Tim's gaze remains level, and he nods after a slow moment of consideration. ]

I'll do my damnedest.

[He nods, then starts to the door waving a hand to follow him. He peeks outside it first, checking both ways, then steps out and starts leading them down. He's fine for the moment while there are still lights on the wall.

But as they start to lessen, he curls in on himself a bit. Shoulders hunched up and nervously looking in all directions.]

Keep an eye out for... Anything.

[ Algric is a live wire of nerves in turn, pulsing between being mostly corporeal or a fogbank in a jumper. ]

God. That’s not ominous at all.

Anything is a whole lot when we can't see...

Algric, you have that torch?

[ It doesn't help that as the lights fade, taking the steps is faith and rhythm. ]

[It absolutely is. And Jon, in his apprehension, is starting to slow down, his large draped wings carpeting the steps behind them. A few times he nearly jumps out of his skin, reaching for something that doesn't seem to be there.

But the further they go along, the more dulled their steps get. Walking on something soft and makes lifting their feet a little harder each step. If silent, one could almost mistake the nervous breathing to the sound of many long limbs scittering around.]

W-we're nearly there.

Got it —

[ Once it starts to get proper dark, Algric flicks on the phone light. Searching for… wellS the source of those skitters. ]

[ Tim's fire generates no light to aid them, but the more nervous his is, the warmer it is to be around him.

As the steps become stickier and stickier, he looks to Jon to make sure the moth isn't getting stuck... ]

[He does get stuck a few times. Nothing serious, but enough that he stops abruptly to swat at himself, pull his antennae loose from a few strands hanging down. The skittering all seems to stop wherever Algric points it. Might be a trick of their hearing.

But the time they reach the bottom, not only is it wholly dark outside of Algric's light, but Jon is absolutely shaking in fear.]

H-here. It's here.

[A dark oak door with heavy, thick webbing in the corners and over the knob. It almost looks like a lovely page out of a picture book, neatly designed and put together.]

...Good luck. Both of you.

[ This is —

Algric’s eyes go even wider as his light rests on the horrible, children’s book door. He knows it by its description. From what Jonah has told him… ]

It - it’s polite to knock. Isn’t it.

[ He nods to MothJon ] ... Get back to where you're safe.

[ And there it is, even if he didn't have Algric's reaction, or the ominous recitation... there's something off. Something terrifying by about how controlled that design is. ]

We'll take care of this. [ And that seems formal. Dismissive.

Dammit, he should just say what he means. One. Two. Three. ]

We love you, you idiot.

[ Both parts of that. ]

[He goes very still at those words, watching them both. Then something gentle like a smile picks up, pinching at his eyes.]

I love you both, as well.

[But Algric seems ready... He starts carefully backing up, nearly tripping over his own wings. But he's watching from as far around the corner as he can.]

Yes, I -

[ Algric’s voice cracks a little. ]

I love you so much, Jon. With everything I am.

[ But for now… he knocks. ]

[The knock resonates loudly, through the wood and around them. Enough to spook MothJon to leave entirely, going back to the panic room.

The door cracks open, slowly. An invitation, a welcome. The room inside is dim. A large open space with some desks and a vanity dresser lining the side walls. Books, boxes of tapes and file folders are stacked anywhere out of the walkway, on every flat surface. And scattered around the room are even more that are loose. Here and there are trinkets, bits of memory held dear of his loved ones. One of Algric's favorite mugs. One of Tim's favorite models. Sasha's laptop. A book of sheet music from his gran. All neatly arranged wherever they are, a bit of organization attempted in the chaos of his life.

The back wall is a series of floor to ceiling windows, with no curtains so the Eyes can look in. All eight of them. Never blinking, always focused. It watches all the thick, white strands of webbing that take over the room. From the ceiling, to around certain memories, files, cassette tapes. It makes it so there is no clear path through or around the room as the strands are everywhere. But they all come to a focal point: a pit in the center of the room. It's a large hole, completely covered over with webbing, but every web in the room ends there.

The room is filled with the sound of scitters, hundreds of spiders making their way around. And the sound of magnetic tape running, intermingled with the web threads here and there.]