[His answer is frank, if a little terse. He can't quite bring himself to be sarcastic at a little kid, even though sarcasm has become his refuge over the years, and right now he really, really needs a refuge. One with a cat to pet, maybe. That would be nice.]
I, uh, don't think it's going to be very useful here, though. Except as a flashlight. A crappy flashlight. Just….Just putting that out there.
[He's still working under the assumption that he's dead, and as the minutes pass and things get creepier and scarier, he's drawing some pretty grim conclusions about his own personal afterlife. Except he doesn't get how Chihiro fits into the scenario. As far as he can tell, she's just as human as he is, except younger, and also probably not a shit-stain of a mass-murdering jackass. He definitely belongs here. She'd fit in better in some scenario involving rainbow fields and frolicking baby animals and home-baked cookies and --
-- is that baking bread?
It's also definitely getting lighter. For a given definition of "lighter", anyway. That is to say that their only source of light is now not his trusty Maliwan pistol, but the gentle and sort of ominous reddish-purple glow that seems to be growing stronger as they descend.
Based on the insane level of creepiness displayed by this place, he's pretty sure they're moving away from one horror and directly into the heart of a new one, but he has no idea what to do about that. Obviously they can't go back, and staying in one place is out, so the only way to go is forward.
When they reach the base of the stairs, he picks up his pace a little bit. He doesn't yet hear the sloshing footsteps on the stairs behind them, but he also doesn't want to wait until he does. The glow around the edges of the door frame intensifies as they draw nearer, as does the humidity, and...the heat.
Swallowing hard, he reaches for the latch with his left hand. He bites off a swear and jerks his hand away almost instantly; the metal is burningly hot to the touch. This doesn't bode well at all for what's on the other side of the door, but they need to keep going. So he uses the muzzle of his gun to push the latch down, and pushes the door open with the toe of his boot.
He's never actually seen a brick oven before, but he's pretty sure the room beyond looks like one - complete with leaping, cackling flames climbing the walls on either side. There's a narrow, stone aisle down the middle of the room - the baking surface, he presumes - and another door just visible in the distance, through the heat distortion and the smoke.]
What the...?
[There may or may not be a quiet squelch behind them. It could just be his imagination. But if it's not, he's willing to bet the bathtub horror probably won't want to follow them through this blazing inferno.]
Shit.
[He mutters the curse quietly, not intending for Chihiro to hear, and resists the urge to look behind them.]
no subject
[His answer is frank, if a little terse. He can't quite bring himself to be sarcastic at a little kid, even though sarcasm has become his refuge over the years, and right now he really, really needs a refuge. One with a cat to pet, maybe. That would be nice.]
I, uh, don't think it's going to be very useful here, though. Except as a flashlight. A crappy flashlight. Just….Just putting that out there.
[He's still working under the assumption that he's dead, and as the minutes pass and things get creepier and scarier, he's drawing some pretty grim conclusions about his own personal afterlife. Except he doesn't get how Chihiro fits into the scenario. As far as he can tell, she's just as human as he is, except younger, and also probably not a shit-stain of a mass-murdering jackass. He definitely belongs here. She'd fit in better in some scenario involving rainbow fields and frolicking baby animals and home-baked cookies and --
-- is that baking bread?
It's also definitely getting lighter. For a given definition of "lighter", anyway. That is to say that their only source of light is now not his trusty Maliwan pistol, but the gentle and sort of ominous reddish-purple glow that seems to be growing stronger as they descend.
Based on the insane level of creepiness displayed by this place, he's pretty sure they're moving away from one horror and directly into the heart of a new one, but he has no idea what to do about that. Obviously they can't go back, and staying in one place is out, so the only way to go is forward.
When they reach the base of the stairs, he picks up his pace a little bit. He doesn't yet hear the sloshing footsteps on the stairs behind them, but he also doesn't want to wait until he does. The glow around the edges of the door frame intensifies as they draw nearer, as does the humidity, and...the heat.
Swallowing hard, he reaches for the latch with his left hand. He bites off a swear and jerks his hand away almost instantly; the metal is burningly hot to the touch. This doesn't bode well at all for what's on the other side of the door, but they need to keep going. So he uses the muzzle of his gun to push the latch down, and pushes the door open with the toe of his boot.
He's never actually seen a brick oven before, but he's pretty sure the room beyond looks like one - complete with leaping, cackling flames climbing the walls on either side. There's a narrow, stone aisle down the middle of the room - the baking surface, he presumes - and another door just visible in the distance, through the heat distortion and the smoke.]
What the...?
[There may or may not be a quiet squelch behind them. It could just be his imagination. But if it's not, he's willing to bet the bathtub horror probably won't want to follow them through this blazing inferno.]
Shit.
[He mutters the curse quietly, not intending for Chihiro to hear, and resists the urge to look behind them.]
How fast can you run?