Pest Services Required

[Zenith]

A pegasus and a giant robot walk into a bar up to a door emblazoned with hieroglyphics. One looks at the other and says, Can you read that? Because I most certainly cannot. The robot shrugs and runs it through a translator program.

“It says ‘embalmer’,” And then he says, “Mmm, don’t like that. I was hoping it’d say ‘exit.’”

...the joke falls apart somewhere around there, but you get the drift.

Comedy routine aside, Haven and Zee both found themselves hock-deep in sand staring at a sign that said precisely the opposite of what they wanted it to. Neither particularly felt like taking the all-important first step towards what promised to be a chamber full of fun and adventure. In fact, both hung back, one studiously examining his hooves, the other peering up at the ceiling.

I suppose the spirits would not be trapped here if escape was as easy as finding the exit.

“Good point. And I guess having an embalming area isn’t... as weird as it sounds to you and me? This is a tomb. Tombs tend to have dead things in ‘em.”

I rather doubt the lovely lady we just spoke to would appreciate being referred to as a ‘dead thing’, dear spark.

“I wasn’t-!” Zee’s head snapped around to glower at Haven. The pegasus was giggling, slag him with a supermagnet. “That isn’t what I meant and you know it isn’t. I was talking about the actual preserved bodies. Y’know, the mummies? Seeing as it looks like we’re inside a pyramid?”

Haven blinked once, then twice, before straightening with a prim shuffle of the wings. Ah. Yes. My mistake, then. I, ah- I will be certain not to mention that to our friend when we see her again.

“Probably a good idea. What I was saying-” He glared one more time for good measure, painfully aware he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. “-is that it makes perfect sense for an embalmer to have a workshop in an actual tomb. But I’m still not... real sure I want to go waltzing in all willy-nilly.”

Reasonable. Haven snorted in a vain attempt to clear the dust from his muzzle. But this does seem to be the only way forward, at least from this juncture. Should we circle back, or press on?

Zee shifted his weight onto his rear pede, arms crossing as he weighed their options. On the one servo, he didn’t much care to go waltzing into what sounded an awful lot like a necromancer’s dream destination. On the other... they had made a promise to the spirit of the pyramid. The longer they stalled, dithering or backtracking or otherwise, the longer she had to wait for freedom. At least they knew what awaited them behind this door. Better the proverbial devil he knew than whatever other nightmares the luck of the draw could dream up.

“We go forward,” He decided, then promptly amended his own statement: “Scratch that. I’m going forward. You should probably stay out here, just in case whatever’s in there decides it wants to rumble.”

Haven looked ready to protest right up until the phrase ‘wants to rumble’ came out of Zee’s vocoder. Then and only then did his ears wilt in unspoken defeat. The poor Nimbus was the definition of a pacifist, unwilling or unable to defend himself when push came to shove. If things got dicey- and somehow both of them got the impression they could- he would be far more a liability than an asset.

Alright. But please, be careful in there. I would rather not have to explain to Azimuth why you came home in multiple pieces.

“Dirty pool, Ven.” Zee huffed a sigh, gave an almighty stretch, and marched forward through the door.


((Don't Bet On It, 'luck of the draw'.))

[Cobalt]

Great Pyramid. Yes, that name didn't mean anything to Cobalt. She thought that a 'pyramid' was the structure she'd last entered on Eberron was called, some kind of giant ruins on Xendrik, But that was all, just a faint, fleeting memory. The girl's hesitation didn't bother her either because it reminded her of when her commanders would start to talk to her 'as if she was a person.' They'd usually remember that she was a Warforged, cough, then cut off whatever they'd been wanting to say. So she hardly regarded it aside from following her gaze down the hall.

"Right corridor," she murmured, then nodded, moving that way. "I will take point. Remain close to me; I can protect you if you are there. If we face danger, crouch by my legs and don't move." Perhaps, had she been a fleshy humanoid, she might have considered offering to carry the child or some such. But that thought was both foreign to Cobalt and impractical as she fought in a whirling dervish of chains. Really the only safe place around her was right next to her legs

With that instruction Cobalt began moving forward, making sure to keep her stride at a pace that a child could keep up with and a couple of backward glances to ensure she was following.

Objective: Reach Mother's Tomb. Condition: Child escort arrives safely. Mission Accepted.

Cobalt was a good soldier. She would accomplish her mission or be battered inert first.

[Halrae]

Realizing that the emotion she was sensing wasn't from her first of all and that it was one she knew so well struck Halrae right in the heart. She knew what it was to fail, and to never be able to fix a mistake. It solidified her resolve to help him.

"Where gold turns to copper, pull the sconce that holds a torch," she repeated to herself a couple of times, making sure she had the instructions committed to memory. "Wym waits for me there." She was about to ask who Wym was when the man vanished, taking with him his emotional barrage but not the echo of it in her heart. He had passed, that much was clear. He couldn't fix whatever mistake he had made or whatever he had failed to do, and so now it was falling to her to finish what he'd started.

"Alright, lets get this started." Still unsure whether it was wise or not to stow the gem Halrae just carefully tucked it against her midsection with one arm and used the other to open the door to continue on.

"Gold to copper, pull the sconce. Gold to copper, pull the sconce. Gold to copper, pull the sconce." Ah, this brought up memories of her time with the Chainbreakers, wandering through ruins and abandoned keeps and tunnels laden with traps and against all manner of foes. She was in her element! Chath left from her shoulder to fly at her side and around behind her to watch her back and warn her of advance dangers though she was careful to caution him to stay within a yard or so of her.

[Tanglelore]

while given a brief moment to do as she pleased Pearla further stretched away from Tangle and down she'd plop right on the rim of the paint jar and down her legs would reach swiping up bits of pain to stick atop her scales and wings, tail and snout. Coming out a new almost completely blue hue she turned to the mural. Tangle though? She leaned ear tipped to the end of the hall. Encroaching footsteps stood just at the door. And with a light click. . .they were gone. Had they entered the chamber?

Peering down the darkened hall she couldn't see much of anything, no movement, no sound, so- maybe they turned about? Perhaps. Which meant she was left to the mural or leaving the space. . .

"What is left undone should see its finish"

It was a simple thought, even murals must have wishes too right? To leave it incomplete felt wrong. Perhaps thats why she was here, something wished to be finished? Raising up her dowel again to look at the jar there was Pearla marching at its base leaving little blue footprints. A wing stretched out scraped at the wall but was ill suited for painting. Little paw prints were left here and there in an attempt to help. Maybe there was a brush laying around? Or?

Contemplating for a long moment Tangle crouched down and set her bag near the jar. Pulling out a knife and some string, she reached for her own long hair and began to cut just a few inches off the base. Even if there was a brush near by it didn't feel quite suitable. Might as well use her own hair and leave it here- maybe the mural would like a little companion just as she had Pearla. With string and hair in one hand she tied it together best she could. It wasn't much but it was something. A haircut and painting, two birds one stone- it needed sheared soon anyways.

"Pearla"

Calling for the little dragonlet she coaxed and then offered out the make-shift brush for her to play with. Again she didn't need to be asked twice, the red brush was taken from her scarred fingers and immediately she scramble to get in the jar dipping it down into the dredges of blue paint. Once up, she demanded lifting by stretching up her front legs to grab at Tangles arm. And with her exuberant little companion she'd help lift her to start filling in the sky.

[Fr. Clarence]

It seemed, despite the whole waking up in a mysterious dark hallway thing, that luck was on the good father’s side. For one thing, he didn’t have a dust mite allergy. That would have been extremely inconvenient given the state of the walls around him, or at least what he could make out with his tiny light source. For another, time had crumbled the lock on the door but not dried up all the oil in the lamp. And when the lamp was lit and he could finally take a good look at the room around him? Well, the wheel of fortune just kept on spinning in his favor.

Clarence drifted amongst the tombs for a moment, hand brushing against the worn stone. While none of the individual resting places particularly stood out, there was a quite a great number of them. That was interesting enough, in and of itself. The record after record describing their causes of death as unexpected was just icing on the cake.

He was re-rolling up the final scroll when he heard the noise from outside the records room. He could ignore it, sure. He could continue on like he hadn’t found one of the most intriguing puzzles he’d seen since finding himself in the weyrd, sure. But that wasn’t Clarence. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but necromancy brought it back over and over again.

After setting the scroll back on the shelf where he’d found it, the priest slipped back through the doorway between the records room and the tombs. He didn’t call out. He didn’t take the oil lamp with him, at least not right away. It was simple enough to turn back and grab it once he saw what he was dealing with. Would it have been much easier to have taken the light source with him now? Of course, but it would’ve also given him away to whatever was out there and Clarence never revealed his hand when he could help it. And besides, if he was blindly sneaking into a fight right now, he had a ton of fodder resting just beneath crumbling stone.

[David Bowie]

Listen, David was a little too intimate with the other world to doubt that Anubis was there and real, and he had a feeling wetting his pants wouldn't have done much to help him anyway. Is the distant dragons were apprehensive but slightly reassured by the god's... Perhaps kindness was being too generous, but his lack of malice.

David met the statue's gaze with a stoic one of his own, face carefully neutral. He may not worship the ancient Jackal but he was going to show him appropriate reverence nevertheless. You didn't have to be particularly pious to realize pissing off deities = bad. Only once the final dust had settled did David relax the stiffness from his shoulders.

A calloused hand ran back through his hair and then down his face, brushing away some of the sin that had clung to his sweat soaked skin. Man, pyramids were not known for their air-conditioning, were they. Well, there was only one thing to do now, wasn't there?

Approaching cautiously, he reached out those same rough hands to digitally touch the staff, then firmly wrap around it, making sure not to knock it against anything as he raised it up and positioned it at his side, admittedly feeling a little bit disrespectful for treating it like a walking stick butt he didn't have any better ideas on how to get it to where he was going. His eyes drifted back to the stairs. He didn't know where the tomb of the pharaoh lay precisely but with fingers wrapped around his torch in one hand and the staff in the other, he had to assume that this was a gentle nudge in the right direction from Anubis.

Your family shall know peace.

He didn't think about this as he climbed stone steps one at a time, although the words echoed endlessly in the back of his thoughts. He couldn't let himself place too much faith in his success. Not that he doubted himself, or Anubis's ability to grant it; he just didn't know how difficult it might be fulfill a God-given quest.

ooc| HTSAWG - pious

[Tuk-tuk]

One night, Tuk-Tuk went to sleep, a blue-eyed Celeste Cat on either side of him as he snuggled under the comforter in his little birdie pajama nightcap.

And when he woke up, he was in... um...

Ooo, a new prank! Ranalc cackled, the bright-spirited Cat dancing on his feetsies as he realized they'd woken up somewhere new. What a twist on a classic! Instead of waking up with ther bedroll pushed onto the river, they'd been entombed!

I don't like it, Tjasse hissed, both aloud and athought, hair standing up on end a little as his dark eyes scanned the darkness for anything to tell them where they were

Fortunately, Tuk-Tuk had low light vision, and so long as there was any light within the nearby area he could see as clear as day. Like, a clear day. A sunny clear day. Not the middle of a blizzard day, he couldn't see through that. But even more fortunately, they'd awoken in a large, relatively empty four-sided room that seemed to be a crossways of four other halls, and above each door was a sconce with a torch.

"Which way to goooooooo..." Tuk-Tuk singsonged to himself as he and his furry companions debated their options. At least (so far) they had the sense not to split up. Who knew if they'd ever unite again if they did.

ooc| HTSAWG - unite

[Cyprena Sevenius]

Well. Maybe she WAS a fool.

If you had tried to climb across instead of talking to the pit, no one would have spoken to you and you would have made it across.[/color] “Are you sure about that? I’m pretty sure whatever I would have picked would have been equally horrible.” Raup didn’t respond to that, that’s not how the requiae worked and she should have known better by now, but you know, back to the talking VOICES coming from a deep, seemingly endless pit.

At least the disembodied voices were a lot nicer to her than Raup was. Scratch that. They were NOT disembodied voices. The voice was very much connected to a…well shit.

Ren took a steady step back, torch in front of her as it was the only weapon she had and Raup would surely be of no help. She wasn’t scared, no, she was trained for this, but she didn’t know what she was up against so she kept herself on guard. But…it didn’t seem like she needed to be on guard. In fact, though this dude was all wrapped up in himself, literally, he seemed to not be hellbent on murdering her. Still, she didn’t know where on the spectrum of hellish and pious this creature existed at, so even when he asked if she was there to help, she was hesitant.

“I…how do I help you, exactly?” She was like, ninety percent sure she was going to do it, because she was stuck in here anyway and she was unfortunately generally helpful, plus who knew if this thing would turn on her if not, but she wanted to make sure it wasn’t like…set yourself on fire or something first.

Ooc:
pious, 285
I’m sort of throwing out there that what Ren DIDN’T pick has x result so it doesn’t matter anyway, but if that’s incorrect and annoying please let me know and I’ll edit what Raup said. |D This will probably apply for the whole bonding…little asshole.