Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

Closed into their own personal labyrinth away from the other team, the Blackhawk finally relaxes her stance once she's convinced that the doors coming down are all that's going to happen, and looks at Bronze Tiger and Plaz.

"Guess we know which way we're headed," she says philosophically, as she glances down the hallway. "This shouldn't stop 'Riz from keepin' in touch with us, though."

Comments

[plazmania.livejournal.com]

Eel isn't thrilled with the development, either.

"I could probably ooze my way through a crack, but it'd take longer than we'd likely have if we get hurried by another Bumble or something."

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

She moves off again, though she doesn't holster her weapon this time. "I don't hear anything, and I don't see any scat."

[plazmania.livejournal.com]

Plaz grimaces.

"Please tell me you mean you're looking for Louis Armstrong."

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

"If it lives and breathes, it's gotta go," she grins past the fleece of her aviator jacket.

[plazmania.livejournal.com]

Icky.

"Surely, Bumbles are potty-trained. I don't want to know what else of theirs might bounce..."

[bronze-tiger.livejournal.com]

Ben was liking this run less and less. This place had already carved their team up into penny pickets - the better to pick them off at their leisure, he supposed.

"Let's go, then. Plastic Man, you're on point." he said, sliding too-naturally into the ladership role he'd been playing for years with the Squad.

Absurdly, he almost wished for the explosive collars.

[plazmania.livejournal.com]

Eel's hair suddenly shits into a Looney Tunes 'pointer' dog, poinging straight ahead.

But he does take point, because he can stretch quickly enough to stop anything coming at them from hitting the two normals behind him.

"Word up."

[bronze-tiger.livejournal.com]

Ben decided to ignore that - either he thought he was being funny or he was trying to be a racist. Either way, it failed miserably.

He fell back to walk drag, keeping their other companion between the two of them. He had full faith and confidence in his own abilities and Plastic-Man, despite having a brain made of Silly Putty, was rather effective at what he did.

So best to keep their unknown protected.

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

She'd just managed to emit a surprised yelp as the floor vanished beneath her, giving her little time to even attempt to find some purchase. The fall isn't too far, but she lands hard, the air forced from her lungs in a sharp and painful grunt. Times like this I wish I had gadgets, she thinks. She managed to keep hold of her weapon, though, which she'll take as a small victory.

Drawing her legs under her slowly in case she's bruised her tailbone in the fall, she reaches for her hat and looks upward, trying to adjust her eyes to the lack of light. Then she reaches for her communicator. "Hey! Can y'all hear me?" It may be futile, but it's worth a try.

[jla-eb.livejournal.com]

She finds herself in a hallway much like the one above her, only the painting across from her is smirking instead of scowling.

The end of the hallway T's in either direction in front of her, behind her is a blank wall. From around the right corner at the end of the hall, a slovering nose pokes around, sniffing the air. The head of a horribly mutated doberman pinscher follows the nose, its lips curled into a snaggle toothed snarl as it begins to growl.

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

"I'll take that as a no," she mutters, stilling as she catches sight of the dog -- or whatever it used to be. Muscles tense, the adrenalin kicking in. Fight or flight? Like hell she'll fly. She lifts her weapon, the safety's click echoing oddly around the stone walls, and matches its snarl with the cold glare of steel. "Come get it, Fido."

[jla-eb.livejournal.com]

Two more snarling faces join their littermate and all three dogs, the size of baby elephants, block the end of the hall, hackles raised and growling loudly.

It's quiet for a heartbeat, then with echoing barks they attack.

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

She only has one chance to make it count. Good thing she's used to it. The second Colt finds its way to her left hand. Shots ring out, each bullet destined for a spot right between the eyes, their casings rattle across the floor.

[jla-eb.livejournal.com]

The center dog takes the hit as aim letting out a loud yelp before stumbling to the floor.

The dog to the left tries to leap, and it moves like lightning. The bullet takes it in the shoulder, and it's wince makes it pause.

The third dog lept to the right, clawing along the wall for a few feet still barking and growling like mad.

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

It can bark and growl all it wants. Without pause, she lets loose another barrage of gunfire, muzzle flashes flaring.

[jla-eb.livejournal.com]

It's quick and has learned from what happened to its littermates. It leaps off of the wall, away from the bullets, only taking a couple with loud grunts, but still closing the distance.

The one hit in the head, stumbles to its feet with a shake that sends blood droplets everywhere.

The one of the left has lost the use of the shot leg and is preparing to jump with more growling from all of them.

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

Zinda looks part relieved, part exhausted, and entirely pleased to see a familiar face as she straightens, the book in her hand. She also looks like she's been through hell; her left arm in a makeshift sling and pieces of bone and gore all over her clothes and in her hair.

"Welcome back, sug." She glances down at the critter. "Hey, quit your yabberin', fuzzbutt. He's one of the good guys."

[plazmania.livejournal.com]

"You're damn right," he says, bringing himself entirely in the door, content to let Government-Issue Jerkwad stew outside it for a while.

"What the hell happened? Captain Tightwad got his leg diced a bit, and I had to sift through a decade of old crusty porn - are you all right?"

[jla-eb.livejournal.com]

After stamping it's feet in agitation it looks at Zinda and deflates back into it's cute and fuzzy demeanor again.

It did good right? Right?

A quick rub of it's head against her and a glare at Plaz follows.

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

She rolls her eyes ceilingward. She's not about to chance petting it in case it changes its mind. "Fine, fine. Yeah. You did good, fuzzbutt." She lifts up the free hand that's holding a notebook. Part of her wants to answer Plaz's query with, 'Not really,' but she's got too much pride to admit it. "I got into it with three hounds of the Baskervilles back there."

[plazmania.livejournal.com]

"Aw, crap. This place is a menegerie. I think we should just call PETA and have them firestorm the place."

His eyes are all over her, but with the ogling, he's also looking for bites or scratches or please don't let her froth at the mouth.

"How bad did it get?"

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

"One got a good clamp on my arm," she notes, taking the oppportunity to sink onto a dusty chair. Her free hand runs through her hair, picking out pieces of gunk and bone with a vaguely disaffected expression. "Jacket took most of it, but I got a couple good puncture wounds and a strained shoulder to boot. Hope those things don't got rabies or somethin', or I'm screwed, and not even in the fun way."

[plazmania.livejournal.com]

"No, I'll handle screwing you in the fun way, thanks," he says, but it's almost an aside. One hand becomes a comb to try and groom her hair up a bit, without even really thinking about it.

"You need a sling? I can be a sling... and there have to be some medical supplies around here somewhere. The guy's a doctor, for christ's sake..."

[zinda-blackhawk.livejournal.com]

Her eyes slide over to a piece of paper taped near the monitor. Then she leans closer. "'Dungeon Codes'?" Of course. Where else would they be. "That's... handy. I guess?" She glances back over her shoulder at the two men, then turns her attention back to the note. Reading the paper, she wonders if the keypad on this machine will trigger a release, or if there's a panel somewhere she needs to use. She gives the keyboard a shot first. Worst that can happen is nothing, right?

[jla-eb.livejournal.com]

The lights on the keypad switch from red to green. First there's no reaction beyond that, then they can see the door to Cassie's cell swing open as the elevator hums into life, descending into the dungeon area.

There's also the clank of cages unlocking and swinging open. Approximately 15 of them.