closed } { i feel the temperature risin

[rumorate]

WHO: Allison Hargreeves, Emilia di Carlo, Wrath, Wrathion, Daenerys Targaryen, Lorna Dane.
WHEN: Sometime before April 6th
WHERE: The Volcano
WHAT: Volcano shenanigans.
WARNINGS: TBD



The tunnels reek. Allison gags on the scent of sulfur and sweat as they make their way further down into the labyrinth. Part of her doesn't think that she's the best person for the job - rumoring rocks isn't exactly in her repertoire.

Fortunately, she's not alone, and is surrounded by equally capable people. Some she knows well, some she doesn't, but hopefully if they work as a team, they'll be able to get through this together, to whatever the end goal may be. Keeping her eyes front and ignoring the suffocating heat, or the nagging voice in the back of her mind telling her that she is the least of those present.

It's just the curse. She's just fine. Her brother is absolutely not right.

That being said, she extends her hands outward for balance, not wanting to touch the walls as she steps down. Just in case they're too hot to handle.

"No turns up ahead, right?"

Comments

[chromiums]

Pausing use of her abilities for a moment has made Lorna realize how much energy she's been expending on it, and how tiring that's gotten in this environment. She pauses just after Allison does and pulls out her own water, drinking deeply and trying to be mindful to only swallow a little of it at a time.

Movement sweeps across the corner of her vision again and she frowns, securing the container closed. Remember what they said, this place will try to mess with you. You're fine. She sighs and rubs at her eyes again.

"Maybe there's another way to keep track of how long we've been going."

[blackscales]

Interesting. Wrathion narrows his eyes as he scans the shadows, watching figures in it move around.

The aren't attacking yet, but they are curious. He glances back behind them, warily trying to gauge if they're being followed as well. It wouldn't do to get surrounded.

"None of you have a timekeeping device?" he prompts idly. The passage of time means little to him, but he can understand why they'd be curious. Wrathion takes a step further away from the group, watches the antlered figures as the slink around the edges. "It seems our watchers are inclined to stay watchers for now, but they may be waiting for us to walk into a trap."

Waiting for the right moment to strike, whatever that may be. Less work for them if they all injure themselves first, or walk themselves into a corner.

[rumorate]

"I do. But it's hard to say if our days line up with days in the place where I came from."

She holds up her watch from the 1960s, analog so able to be reset and not relying on some digital measure that needs to be set by the son. It's hard to tell if this world is a small planet making quick rotations or if it's a larger beast, making slow circles. Hell, there might not even be sixty minutes in an hour.

"But I don't think you're wrong about the spectators. Let's just be careful where we step."