OOM - The Labyrinth Part I

[theresnodoor]

There is boredom. There is restlessness. There is anxiety. And there is recklessness. Stages of reactions following the common phrase of There's nothing to do. If left alone for too long, this condition can result in conversation, conflict, experimentation, explosions, discovery, and death.

Among others.

But sometimes, Fate steps in. Someone looks down and notices the ever-increasing stages and says, Hey. That looks kind of dull. Let me help you out there.

The common reaction to such politeness is gratitude.


Well into the stages of boredom, Rachel opens her eyes and finds herself not in her bedroom, her apartment, or even the Bar's couch. Instead of soft fabric, there are hard, rough stones beneath her back. Instead of open space, the walls are close and dingy and the ceiling is low. And when she sits up, sharp and sudden, she is staring out of an archway that leads into the darkest of dark hallways, despite the flickering torch on the wall.

Blue eyes dart in every direction and not a single one of them makes sense - including the other person, crumpled on the stones nearby.

Comments

[tobeclosetohim]

The lungs burn. First air, and then water.
She didn't mean to swallow. Coughing is worse.



All of her body is screaming.

Struggling against the heavy current.
The pounding water. The fire in her chest.

Breaking the surface. For light to swarm her face.
Sending her back under with the smallest hasty gasp.

[theresnodoor]

Her face pushes out. Her legs melt together. Skin turns rubbery, sleek and gray.

Dolphins need to breathe. Just not as much.

Shortly, there is a heavy, solid shape brushing up against Jo's side, a sleek dorsal fin close by. <Grab on.>

Though where they can go, other than 'away from what's directly above them,' isn't clear just yet.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo knows she'll be out of air in seconds.

That was hardly enough.



Only desperation is keeping her from coughing.
Though not coughing is horribly hard.
Hard enough it's nauseating.
Her heart is racing.


She can't focus on the words she hears.
Not really. But she throws herself toward the shape.
More of a flail, toward and at, than a solid movement.

[theresnodoor]

<The fin. Grab the fin. And keep your legs away from my tail.>

Though how much of that Jo can follow right now is debatable. Rachel would rather not have to be responsible for breaking her leg.

She sends out a burst of clicks as Jo flails at her back and the image that comes back is horribly distorted by the churning water just ahead. But there might, might, be space behind the fall.

[tobeclosetohim]

Everything is becoming a throbbing sensation.

Words. Feeling. The water. Her skin.



Holding on at all once she is.
Turning her hands into vices.


She won't. She won't pass out.

[theresnodoor]

That? Seriously? Would be great.

Great.

The distance isn't far and the dolphin is powerful. What takes time is making sure Jo has a secure enough hold not to fall off. And finding the right depth to go under the fall without crushing them both.

But there is a back side to it, open space that only barely fits the dolphin, and a sheer rock face that climbs up to the surface. Behind the falls.

Rachel rockets up without a second's hesitation, until her back breaks into the air, spouting water.

[tobeclosetohim]

She can't tell.


If she's coughing.
Or gasping. Or retching.


All she knows is there is air.


Air. Bluring her sight.
Loosing her limbs.


In her lungs. Air.
Forcing the water out.

[theresnodoor]

No stinging. No welts. Just the roaring crash of water behind them.

And the sheer cliff she'd followed to the surface opening out onto a flat bed of rock.

Rachel bobs in the water, waiting for Jo to recover. And letting that veil her need to recover, dark eyes glassy, blinking slowly with tiredness.

[tobeclosetohim]

It all echoes. She's the loudest thing.
In this tiny, coming into focus, alcove.


But her breathing gets slower. Marginally.


Until suddenly.


"You've got to be kidding me," wheezed from her.

[theresnodoor]

Okay, no. Jo can just take that wheeze right back into her. Whatever it is, it cannot possibly be good and Rachel doesn't want to hear it.

About as much as she can't stand to be out of the loop on anything.

<What?" she demands guardedly, voice low.

[tobeclosetohim]

Jo, still waist deep in water, pointed.

Offendingly at the rock in front of her.

[theresnodoor]

Rachel angles herself slightly, large body wriggling until she can focus one eye where Jo points.

She blinks.

<Why do I care about a triangle on a rock, Jo?>

[tobeclosetohim]

"It's not a triangle."

Jo's voice was darkly displeased.

[theresnodoor]

<Weird, what with having three sides and all.>

Rachel's voice is a growl, irritated and angry and exhausted. With the support offered by the rock for Jo, she begins to demorph, clinging to it as well as fingers form.

"Then what is it?"

[tobeclosetohim]

"It's the sign of Daedalus, Rachel."

Delta. In the Greek alphabet.







"We're in the labyrinth."