2019-09-30 - Wasteland Terrors

We will be the love you've always wanted, we will be the fire in your blood. We will be the vice of your desire, we will be salvation in the flood.

It's not a pretty land that the Captain and Lilith find themselves in when they start to orient and realize they're not where they were on last recollection. They're in some semblance of Firefly Forest, but it's wasteland apocalyptic and everything seems hazed with gray. There's a thick coating of ash and fallout on everything that drifts and though a lot of the forest has been smashed to make travel difficult, the trees left standing are broken, blackened things that stretch snapped limbs to the sky. It's eerie and gives the impression of snapped and charred thin bones reaching to the heavens for help.

Speaking of bones, there's a lot of them, humanoid and animal. They aren't thick with littering, but they're scattered everywhere here and there in chunks and bits and occasionally whole skeletons. Any clothing on the humanoid forms is tatters or just plain gone, though some of the dead bone figures still have wisps of fragile hair to remind the pair that maybe, once, these were actual living people who found themselves in the same kind of way and... maybe they never actually got out.

It's astoundingly quiet in a very thick, oppressive way and the air doesn't smell charred or anything like that, despite the scenario. Instead, it oddly smells unnaturally like cordite and ozone and blood in a way to set the instincts on edge. It's like breathing destruction and death.

Lilith Winslow went to sleep with a handgun in a holster, worn on a belt. She owns a pawn shop, she gets guns and things like this for collateral and re-sale, and she knows how to use it. The last she remembers before orienting in the now was falling asleep, thinking she should have taken the gun out for the selfie she sent Byron prior to that. It's a really pretty gun and she wanted to irrationally show it off as one neat thing in the middle of a whole lot of shit. She was burning with fever and scared this would happen if she closed her eyes, so she avoided it as long as she could. But eventually, illness and fatigue won, and does it really matter how asleep you are when these things happen? Not so much.

Other than the gun, she's wearing underwear and her hair is bed-tousled, skin still fever flushed and eyes bright with tiny wobble to her standing spin for orienting. For all her preparedness in grabbing a weapon when she was given the impression her abilities might be inaccessible in the next terrible dream that comes, she sure didn't put clothing or good running shoes on. Her feet are bare, her panties are a dusky violet and... yep, that's it. And once she realizes where she is and what she's standing there like in the middle of it all, she looks terrified and some form of pissed. Especially when she realizes she's not alone.

But there's relief in knowing that, suddenly, too and she doesn't care what she's wearing or not wearing. Immediately, seeing this wasteland, she wants out. Priorities.

"... Captain?"

The captain's standing there, silent and unmoving, with his back to Lilith as the dream draws her in. It's hard to say the moment he became aware of her, or she of him; it's like they've been here always, yet can't remember ever arriving.

He, thankfully, is wearing a little more. One of his black faded to grey, ratty tee shirts, this one with the Seattle PD logo across the back. Dark jeans, combat boots, leather jacket. Maybe he collapsed on his bed in exhaustion after a little too much exertion. He doesn't turn immediately, but crouches to pick up something that might be a human hand. It's examined, then allowed to fall back into the ash-strewn dirt, blood wiped off on his pants. Pushing back to his feet, he aims a glance over his shoulder at Lilith, then turns to approach her while shrugging out of his jacket. "Are you real? Or did I dream you up, too, Miss Winslow?"

"... I was about to ask you the same thing. I guess the question means... yes." Lilith tells Ruiz and though she still seems sick, she's operational moreso than she remembers being at home, but maybe that's adrenaline. Maybe her abilities aren't actually broken and it was just an isolated incident. She's hoping with a sick amount of faith, suddenly, that it's the case because this place is not okay. It smells unnerving, it looks horrifying, and the terrain and geography and general lack of landmarks beyond the layout of bones for marking is going to be hard to navigate. Not to mention, they don't know where they're going or what else might be here with them. Something made all these bones, didn't it?

After looking down at herself, she looks at the Captain with step forward once she notices him getting out of his jacket, mouth working a little soundlessly like she's unsure what to say about mostly-naked-gun-wearing body situation in the middle of all this. Then she decides to say with assuming reach to take the garment, going to slip into it and button/zip for comfort and modesty and awkward sake, "... I can see where naked chick showing up with a gun worn as a kink accessory might be right in your dream wheelhouse, maybe. I went to bed like this because... mm."

The quip is empty sounding, though, despite the automatic dry slip of it to try and make light of the situation. There's nothing real light about any of this and the noise in her throat after trailing off is low and dire. After drawing in a long breath, she swallows down thickly and tells him with big eyes, "I don't know what's here. But we should find a door and way out, I think. Somehow. Before... something finds us." Then, as if on cue by saying that, she turns her head to look warily between fallen and standing thick and blackened tree trunks and... she eyes the bones like they're going to assemble and attack, wary as hell.

Suddenly, even though she can't see anything, her posture visibly tenses.

He doesn't, in all honesty, seem bothered by her nakedness. And could he be blamed for letting his dark eyes slide the length of her body, in that moment between him offering the jacket and her taking it, to avail himself of something he's unlikely to see again? His mouth twitches in a not-quite-smile that sketches crow's feet at the corners of his dark eyes, when she mentions that this might just be right in his dream wheelhouse. "Tu no estas equivocado," he concedes low-voiced, his amusement brief.

Then, dragging his eyes away from the barely-dressed brunette, he scans the ragged, ruined treeline and indicates with a jerk of his head that he's heard something. He's wearing his sidearm, of course, in its holster. Is he ever without that nasty piece of work? It's drawn, safety off with a soft click, his eyes trained on the source of the sound. "Over here. I say we figure out what the fuck that was. I don't like surprises."

Lilith might know enough Spanish from living in Miami when putting the commentary in context with the sound of Ruiz's tone and the slide of his eyes to get the gist of it, because she snorts out a little sniffle of noise that's something like amusement too. She doesn't seem particularly over-modest, herself for the moment before she's at least partially covered to get all the lady bits out of the way and safe, but this place makes kind of naked feel like a whole other level, considering.

She's hesitant, at first, because... oh right, she should say something about that, "Our abilities might not work. August had problems in a dream while ill." Lilith then pauses and follows the Captain's movement lead, pulling her own gun free. The irrational want to show the gun off (it's a Kimber Carry Classic Elite, guys!) that she had before she went to sleep is gone now, she wants the safety and utility of it, and she makes a suggestion with compromise, "But... fair. I don't want a bunch of unknown at my back or around a corner, personally, either. I.. do think we should kind of..." Her voice stays hushed all the while she's speaking to the guy and when she trails off, she nudges head toward a thick trunk after listening to at least narrow down that none of the noise is coming from that way.

Clearly, she wants a little cover while waiting to see what's what.

Ruiz is not a particularly stealthy individual. Being a moderately large Mexican with a bad temper doesn't generally lend itself well to sneaking around, but he does take care to approach at an angle. And with cover in mind. He did do a number of years in the military, and managed to not die. "Our abilities might not.." He flicks her a glance, irritated, then back to the source of the noise. "You could have mentioned that sooner."

His gun is hoisted up, held in the right hand and braced in the left while he strafes in like a thing on the prowl. And her own weapon hasn't been missed, though it's possible it gets a bit of an amused look. Subtle, of course. The captain has rather a fondness for brutal efficiency, and her Kimber Carry Classic Elite clearly doesn't fall into that category. His own is an H&K SFP9, must be his service pistol. Not his favourite, but it packs a punch. "Think you can cover our six while I figure out what this is?" His boot grinds some charred bone into dust, nostrils flaring at that scent he picks up on the wind.

"... I was kind of naked and hoping it wasn't true. Now it seems pertinent." Lilith murmurs to the Captain a bit defensively with an audible sniffle that's probably just as much due to the illness still somewhat upon her. Taking a moment to breathe, though, she considers seriously while casting a spooked look around the area and lapsing into watchful, listening silence. Her teeth kind of set on edge there for a moment and her feet shift with agitation and anxiety, but she's calm enough, not jumpy with the tension. So maybe that's a good thing with someone that's shot at moving targets more than live incoming, really. Especially with him creeping to fan out and have a look.

Something seems wrong to her, though. Her eyes eventually go from watching the man and onto the surroundings with squint and a few quick, batting blinks. It's almost like she's trying to adjust what she's seeing and is a bit thrown by trying to figure it out, sensing as much as feeling some kind of oddity about... something. There's definitely something coming, though, she can feel and sense that and she hisses out, "Careful. Something's about to..."

What? Jump out? Attack? Walk up and have a parlay? You never know with these things. But she's not wrong.

Ruiz's finger moves from the barrel of his gun where it's rested, to circling the trigger. Slow, like the movement of his feet through the charred underbrush. He can feel more than hear the approach of those.. things. Whatever they are. Shadows, human yet not. Not even slightly. He's tense as he brings his weapon to bear, body pivoting to face where he thinks one of them is slinking into view.

There's little else he can do. If indeed their abilities can't be tapped into, then his weapon is all he has to rely on. He'll wait, though, until he has a visual before doing anything rash.

Lilith at least, for her part, still has her gun up and raised and stays in cover, despite a bout of fascination and hope upon seeing such encroaching figures and the presentation that comes off of the willowy, beautiful dryads. She did say she'd cover Ruiz's ass, afterall, and while that hope creeps up, something keeps her wary and on edge there in this landscape seeing such contrast. That said, she can't quite peel her eyes away and she's a tinge jealous that she didn't take the lead this time if it's for something good. Look at that outreaching hand, maybe they'll show them the door, maybe they'll...

She's quiet and fooled enough to trust what the Captain opts to do and if it goes wrong... well, at least she still has her gun up?

The captain's a paranoid, suspicious son of a bitch at the best of times. Being peacekeeper for some of the worst that humanity has to offer will do that to a man. He drinks in the creatures' beauty, his body utterly still as they slide out of the mist and ash, approaching on nearsilent feet. One with its hand outstretched, dark flowing hair and long fingers inviting him in, and he's so close to dropping his weapon and letting himself be lured by this beautiful creature.

Then he remembers what's happening. What pulled them in here, and the necessity, the utter necessity of getting out. Clarity comes with a jolt of breath, and a step back that crumbles something charred and dessicated under the heel of his boot. His gun is nudged up a hair, aimed between the thing's eyes. Then the one that slinks in on its right. Then the smaller, slighter one that glides in to the left. He can't kill them all, but hopefully he won't have to. "What are you? Why are we here? Can you tell us how to find our way home?"

"Get back! Run!" Lilith yells warning at Ruiz the second she's out of cover and with that terrible THING reaching out for him, once the shifting horde sees her out and the creature, sensing her panic and fear, starts forward to try and grab the man with a swiftness, two others coming up to flank in split second response to the leader moving for grab and attack. Then the woman fires at the one that lunged first and is closest, doing her goddamndest to do the cover thing accurately and right. She's terrified given the number and knows their options don't include facing that many without her being able to...

After firing off the gunshot, she spins to pick a direction that looks clearer than the rest off of instinct and while it may not be a pleasant run with her bare feet and legs over all kinds of destruction debris, it looks clear enough to start quick backing toward while waiting on the Captain. Her shot itself hits the first one in the neck instead of the head and it dazes it instead of kills it, because like a zombie, seems you have to headshot them. She's seen enough movies, it's kind of unsurprising, but it pisses her off enough to...

Try. You could take them all down in fire and force. Try.

But try as she might, nothing comes out of her save for that single bullet after she lapses into concentration.

She doesn't have to tell him twice. There's something deeply wrong about all of this, and as that scent fills his nostrils, the captain nearly retches in response. His head jerks away, though his eyes remain on the creature that had reached out for him. And instead of backing off immediately, he brings his gun level with its face and squeezes the trigger without hesitation. Right between the eyes, and he doesn't flinch as the thing's head no doubt comes apart in a shower of diseased flesh and bone. Without hesitating, he turns and pops off a shot at the creature flanking it on the right, before backing up two steps and turning to try to sight Lilith.

"Go, go, go! I've got your back!" Can they outrun these terrible things? They're about to find out.

The ladder goes down and Lilith is raggedly panting, her legs and feet all cut up from running through the mess of the wasteland apocalyptic dream forest with no shoes or pants on, just Ruiz's jacket. She's palming the hell out of her gun and doesn't even put it away into holster slide when she's dropping down with cling to a short run of the rungs into pitch blackness.

Calling back to the Captain, she's telling him to close the door, but the more she goes down into the trap door, the more her voice kind of muffles, like the darkness is eating not just the sight of her, but the very sound of her speaking, "Get in and close it, there's a latch on the inside!"

She'll soon find herself in a cramped space that smells damp and it's hard to tell what's what. Essentially, they're in a dark shaft box, from the feel of things.

Ruiz is in decent shape for a man of his age, particularly one who rides a desk for the most part, these days. He's hot on Lilith's heels, perhaps faring a little better due to the fact that he's wearing boots, but panting by the time he reaches the trap door. Tumbling onto his knees, he swings his legs inside and hauls on the handle until it clangs shut. No time to think about what might be on the other end of the passage. Freedom? Or something worse than those haggard, wasted creatures?

A thick, heavy sort of silence settles in around them as the door shuts and seals them into darkness. And Lilith might make out the sound of his breathing hitching up a notch. The clatter of him racking the slide on his gun, shoulder against the narrow wall of the shaft as he struggles to make anything out in the dark. "Can you see? I can't.. I can't see where we're going." His voice is edged in something an awful lot like fear.

"Okay. It smells different down here so if we... uh. Do you hear and smell water? I think I... uh." Lilith has no clue what's going on at first, but she's wary and blindly gripping onto Ruiz wherever she can get a hold of him so they aren't separated and maybe for the nerves of the pair of them too. Her own breathing is ramped and this darkness is reminding her of a dream that happens and the doorways and where they lead, a darkness she's walked through with Byron, the kind that drips with ruinous shadow. But this is a little different and she starts to voice that. Then her voice starts to slow down. Then she starts to realize exactly what she's looking at and what... she's starting to feel crawling up her leg. Her bare leg that is now pretty illuminated because there's a few of them and when she looks down...

Lilith is pretty goddamn tough, all told, given the things she's lived and existed through and tucked away somewhere inside where the nightmares and trauma lives. But glowing spiders crawling on her in a dark box with no immediately found exit given all the darkness? Nope nope nope. She practically starts to scale the Captain's bigger frame and swats at herself on the way, "Oh fuckfuckfuckspidersspidersthey'refuckingspiders, they'reonme, they'reonme, ohfuckmethey'reonyou!"

Ruiz's tee shirt is easy enough to gain a handhold in. It's not protested, the closeness or the contact; he's got bigger problems on his mind right now, like the fact that the walls feel like they're closing in on him. It's a force of will to keep breathing, to keep still, despite the corded muscle that his companion can clearly feel with her hand on him as it is. His dark eyes are glassy and wide, and the panic rises in his throat, and is quelled by a thick swallow. "There's a-" How to say this in a way that won't freak her the fuck out. "Spider in your hair." No, Javier, that is definitely the wrong thing to say.

He leans in to try to brush the thing off. Then the next one that pops up. Flick, flick. "I do. I hear water running. We should-" Suddenly he's got an armful of brunette wearing nothing but panties and his leather jacket, and it's a feat not to wind up with a handful of her ass when she starts climbing him like a tree. There's a muffled curse in Spanish, but he does throw his arms around her, and he's more than capable of supporting her weight, and trying to brush the spiders off her bare legs. "When the fuck am I going to dream about a beach and margaritas and hot, naked.." Well. One out of three ain't bad.

The good news? Lilith stops crawling all over Ruiz after just letting herself take the ego hit and latching onto the solidity of the Captain while getting her bare feet and legs off of the ground to do more batting until she's sure she's clear. Then after breathing some, she drops back down on seeing the sheer mass of them starting to form and goes into attack mode with stomp on the ground instead of... well, fire would probably be her natural response, so given the small space, it's maybe a good thing she can't muster it at the moment.

The things are fast and it's really just a bunch of angry panic stomp flailing about being trapped in a tunnel with spiders that are glowing with no way out of the darkness. But that panel is right behind where she's doing all that.

Judging by his reaction, it's not the first time someone's used him like a human tree, and and availed themselves of his sturdy frame and reasonably strong arms. He has to adjust his grip on her in order to re-holster his gun and free up his hands. Which, given the givens, his handful of something he has no business grabbing can perhaps be forgiven. Or perhaps not. He's probably no stranger to being slapped, either.

"Hold onto me, and close your eyes if you need to. I think.. look. Over there." His arm slides around her waist, and tugs her in close as he starts moving slowly through the mass of nasty critters toward the panel on the wall. Crunch as he slaughters a few of them under his boot. A wave of panic slides over him, again, as he feels the walls closing in on them. And this time, he can't keep it down. Anger is often his first, second, and last line of defense: "Hurry the fuck up or I'll fucking feed you to these things." He gives her a rough tug as his pace quickens, possibly enough to send her stumbling.

"... okay! Okay. Okay. Fuck. Oh." Sometimes, Lilith responds well to bossiness and force, but it's a gamble, really, because it could turn into a piss poor tantrum response too, or just a stubborn dig-in. Usually there's kind of an art to forceful bossiness and threats (ask Byron) in order for them to work on her, but honestly, the fact that he's going to maybe feed her to the glowing spiders kind of scares the hell out of her for an irrational beat. She stops stomping around to attack the fleeing creatures after the yank sends her off kilter with the threat and immediately, she re-latches herself into side to side walk and grab with the Captain to see where the panel leads when opened, breathing quick and shallow.

Mentally, as some of her faculties come back on realizing the spiders aren't actually coming for her while they're making toward hopeful egress or more terror, she decides not to hold a grudge over the threat and wherever his hand lands, goddamnit, it is FINE. He's a man, not a spider and it's dark and that damn panel opens to more darkness, but it smells fresh somehow. Is it another trick or trap?

They can't see ahead to know. They just have to hold onto each other and be brave enough to try. In the glow, Lilith looks up and aside at Ruiz for a very sober, clear-eyed moment and murmurs, just in case they're about to fall into the Dream forever or die like the others that disappear. Are the spiders so bad? Could they go back up after waiting things out and be free and clear to find a safer way, not a pitch black impermeable hole into the beyond?

"... I got you. You got me. Don't let go."

It's both bolstering and resigned with the tone of someone that doesn't know if they're walking back into the light of life or the shadow of death. They both know it could go either way.

The captain's pretty much all bossiness all the time, and there's not much art to it, if truth be told. He says jump, and people tend to ask how high.

After his little unraveling there, he grits his teeth and tries to keep a tighter lid on his temper. The panel's right there. Just another step, and another.. and it crosses his mind that this could make things an awful lot worse for them. Maybe it's a lever that opens up a false floor and dumps them into a pit with no escape. He's not sure who thought up this particular dream, but with the level of fucked-up-ness they've already had to contend with, he's understandably cautious.

Her voice then, soft. He meets her gaze in return, just for a heartbeat there in the dark; his own glint green when the flickered light from the spiders refracts off them. "Te tengo. Me tienes. Vamonos." He drags his eyes away, wraps his arm tight around her, and presses the panel with his free hand.