James Thornton (
jamesthorn) wrote2014-05-16 09:00 pm
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Day 3: Trespassing in Medusa's lair (Moira & James)
Waking up is an out of body experience. He shoots up from couch, immediately on alert, reaching for his gun that isn't there. Where is he, he asks himself in a panic. Then he remembers. He is trapped in a place that has no name. With Moira Coombs, he thinks, looking down at the white cat curled up near him in a ball. He sighs after a second, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, wishing he had woken up to just a bad dream. But it looks like another day in hell.
As he stands up from he couch, yawning and stretching, he realizes that they must have slept for hours, long enough that he feels fully rested, energetic even. He glances around the small cottage, around the kitchen and all the furniture. It would almost be cozy, if he didn't know it belonged to an evil temptress with snake hair. Still, there was at least food here. He stumbles into the kitchen, rummaging through a cabinet. He immediately sees something that looks like a loaf of bread and a wheel of cheese. He puts it on the counter and pulls off a bit for himself. There are eggs and milk out on the counter, but this is enough to soothe his aching stomach for now.
He wants to get a better feel for the place, so he wonders back down the passageway that leads out into the garden. Eating his breakfast as he goes, happy to see no further threats of danger. It means they've found a reasonable safe return place. If they go exploring for an exit, at least they can return here for food and sleep. It's more than they had yesterday.
He takes his time checking out the garden, hoping to find more tools. Something they can use for weapons. Just in case. All he finds are a couple of hand shovels and some buckets. But he does find a few vines of tomatoes and some fruit trees. He collects some of the food in a bucket to bring back with him. He knows he's been gone awhile, and he figures Moira should be up by now. Before he returns, he stops near the pond to dip his hand in the water, using it to wash the grim and dirt from his hands and face. He wishes desperately there was running water to take a real shower. He wonders what Alex and Grant are doing today. If they are out there searching for him. If they are even close to finding them.
Even though he knows it might be wishful thinking now, he wants to go home.
As he stands up from he couch, yawning and stretching, he realizes that they must have slept for hours, long enough that he feels fully rested, energetic even. He glances around the small cottage, around the kitchen and all the furniture. It would almost be cozy, if he didn't know it belonged to an evil temptress with snake hair. Still, there was at least food here. He stumbles into the kitchen, rummaging through a cabinet. He immediately sees something that looks like a loaf of bread and a wheel of cheese. He puts it on the counter and pulls off a bit for himself. There are eggs and milk out on the counter, but this is enough to soothe his aching stomach for now.
He wants to get a better feel for the place, so he wonders back down the passageway that leads out into the garden. Eating his breakfast as he goes, happy to see no further threats of danger. It means they've found a reasonable safe return place. If they go exploring for an exit, at least they can return here for food and sleep. It's more than they had yesterday.
He takes his time checking out the garden, hoping to find more tools. Something they can use for weapons. Just in case. All he finds are a couple of hand shovels and some buckets. But he does find a few vines of tomatoes and some fruit trees. He collects some of the food in a bucket to bring back with him. He knows he's been gone awhile, and he figures Moira should be up by now. Before he returns, he stops near the pond to dip his hand in the water, using it to wash the grim and dirt from his hands and face. He wishes desperately there was running water to take a real shower. He wonders what Alex and Grant are doing today. If they are out there searching for him. If they are even close to finding them.
Even though he knows it might be wishful thinking now, he wants to go home.
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He flicks his eyebrows up in interest at her comments. Concealment? Charms? Things James had no clue about, but he managed to catch the jest. How was anyone ever going to find them if even looking in the right place they wouldn't see them? He takes a couple more bites of his food. "Look, no offense," James says, as the tingle of his cop senses colors the tone of his voice. "The only person I can truly think of that would do this to me, I'm looking at." And Moira didn't kidnap herself into a dangerous pit of hell.
"So. Who did this?" he asks. If she really didn't know, that was another situation all together. But people usually knew their attackers.
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"Yes, well, if I were going to ruin your life, why would I bring myself with you into this hellhole?" She points out. "Also, have you maybe possibly considered the fact that I'm not actually out to ruin your life? Just a thought."
She takes another swig of milk before contemplating his question.
"Honestly? The only person I can think of is my mother."
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Though what is becoming clearer to him is that Moira and her mother have, well, issues. He looks at her, finished enough with his breakfast, that he can push back his plate a little, to fold his arms on the table. "You understand you're saying you think your mother is attempting to kill you?" he asks. "Is this a normal thing in your family...or...?"
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"You mistake my meaning," she clarifies once she finishes her own plate. "My mother is toying with both of us for her own amusement." She toys with her fork, as she thinks of her next words. "If she wanted me dead, she'd have encouraged me to take my favorite boat out to my favorite deep sea fishing spot and sent a freak storm right out after me, cleaning up after my body and her own hands."
She doesn't bother hiding the bitterness or anger. She's never confided this in anyone, not even her younger siblings. But if she's potentially going to die in this labyrinth, she wants someone else to know the things her mother is capable of.
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He picks up the knife he found and hands her one of the bags he found. "If there's anything you need--" he says, sticking the knife in his own bag, crossing the straps over his body, along with some of the food he found earlier. "I'm ready when you are."
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But time enough for that when they get home and they both have a moment to think things through. She finishes filling her bottle before stuffing it, too, in the bag. She grabs a knife and a fork from the table and quickly transforms them into a pair of daggers. She also casually spells both of their bags to make them as lightweight as air. She doesn't want to take any chances, should they encounter other nasty things in the dark. She's practiced enough in the craft of magic that she can employ it for resourceful uses when the situation at hand calls for it.
"Right, which direction should we head in first?" She asks, suddenly all business.
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"Might as well." He takes one last look behind them, where he knows there is safety and shelter. But they can't stay hidden forever. They have to get home. "Let's just stay together," he says, as he starts walking. Ignoring the fact that telling Moira this, is contradictory to their entire relationship, but he just has a feeling it's for the best.
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She follows James out into the garden and towards a path opposite of the way they came into the place. Moira thinks she'll almost miss this place and the odd tranquility of the morning. She shakes her head, knowing such sentimentality to be ridiculous. They need to get out of here, as soon as they can.
"Not something I'd ever think I'd hear you say, but I agree," she says, raising an eyebrow. Hopefully they've made it through the worst of the danger now.
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Finally, he can't take it anymore. They have to do something else. Something different. After three days, it has become apparent that walking their way out of here, wasn't the way out. He stops suddenly, pacing just a little, trying to think this out the way he would any other case. "You said this place was probably a mirage..." Well, she had called it a charm, a glamour. Whatever. Something that looked like it was here, but really wasn't. "Is there a way to break that? So we can figure out where we really are?" he asks.
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When James stops and asks her if they can break the glamour, Moira feels like she could almost hug him. She also feels damn stupid for not thinking of it sooner, and sparing the both of them the tediousness of trying to walk their way out of this hellhole.
"Well, this place is real enough," she corrects him. "But that doesn't mean that we can't at least try to break out of it and through the illusions surrounding it with magic."
She chews on her lip and taps her fingers against her cheek as she tries to think of various spells that could help them in this situation. She knows she's going to need a more difficult charm or incantation, practically breathing in the heavy, serious magic that oozes throughout this place.
"Okay," she says finally. "I think I've got something that could...wait, what was that?"
Her head whips around, searching for the source of a noise she thinks she's heard. It sounded like snapping twigs, and God knows how many creatures could make that kind of noise.
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But James only has a split second to turn his head, ears perking trying find the noise. He heard it too. Footsteps approaching. Suddenly before either of them has time to say another word, all the fire torches hanging on the walls are blown dead by a cold gust of air that rushes through the passageway. The wind sends a chill down James' spine, and he knows this isn't going to end well.
Reacting quickly, James attempts to catch back up to Moira, where she's standing a few feet away. But he doesn't make it in time. Something catches his ankle and sends him face first into the ground. He hits his chin hard on the floor, and he bites his tongue, making him taste blood in his mouth. Which would be bad enough, if whatever grabbed him wasn't currently dragging him away. Away to God knows where...
"Moira!" James doesn't know if he should tell her to run or if he's yelling for help. He reaches out for Moira's hand though, hoping she can catch him, but the creature that has him is fast. Faster than either of them.
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She hears the shuffle of feet in rapid movement, and she turns to reach for James who is only a few feet away from her when the sounds of struggle and of someone, most likely James, hitting the ground with significant force.
"James?" She calls out after him, trying to remember a spell to help improve her vision in the darkness. By the time she utters the incantation, James is no longer where he was previously standing, and all she can do is follow his cries of her name further into the darkness.