Armed with more by way of sharp objects than plans, Owen is trying to center himself for the job. He likes to take new things in slowly, make his moves with caution--but this place likes to fold danger and change in on themselves, narrow the timeline at the worst moments. When he swam out, following the others, it was because of Kamala. Fighting his grip just to get under the water, and some other girl dead in her place.
There's a kid her age with them. Seems capable enough, if a little squirrely, but even the most capable teenager is better off with a few decent adults.
It feels like he knew, stepping into the pod, what kind of place they might find. He'd just expected it lit up, blue-white and ugly. And it isn't pretty, in the light from the pod: concrete, the stale air of disuse. Kind of place you stayed the fuck out of, back home. As if to beckon them deeper in, there's a row of lanterns close enough to notice--hand crank, clicking to life when he winds one. A low sound, more than the hum of electricity, picks up with the light. Faint static from a speaker on the light, punctuated by drops of silence.
"I don't like this." Translation: this place gives him the fucking creeps. He puts a lantern down by Peter and Fang, passing another off. Picking up a third, he cranks it and uses it to explore the dimensions of the room--finding the door ahead.
"You," he says, pointing to Danny. Fang seems capable enough, with the kids, and Danny doesn't strike him as much of a mechanic. "Let's see what's in there: see if we can get some lights on, if it's safe."
general exploration with danny; open to other tags
There's a kid her age with them. Seems capable enough, if a little squirrely, but even the most capable teenager is better off with a few decent adults.
It feels like he knew, stepping into the pod, what kind of place they might find. He'd just expected it lit up, blue-white and ugly. And it isn't pretty, in the light from the pod: concrete, the stale air of disuse. Kind of place you stayed the fuck out of, back home. As if to beckon them deeper in, there's a row of lanterns close enough to notice--hand crank, clicking to life when he winds one. A low sound, more than the hum of electricity, picks up with the light. Faint static from a speaker on the light, punctuated by drops of silence.
"I don't like this." Translation: this place gives him the fucking creeps. He puts a lantern down by Peter and Fang, passing another off. Picking up a third, he cranks it and uses it to explore the dimensions of the room--finding the door ahead.
"You," he says, pointing to Danny. Fang seems capable enough, with the kids, and Danny doesn't strike him as much of a mechanic. "Let's see what's in there: see if we can get some lights on, if it's safe."