jla_watchtower | Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly

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Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly

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."

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The bright eyes and twitching whiskers are almost disgustingly cute. So is the little trill it gives when she speaks to it.

Several little steps forward are taken. The creature resembles a squirrel with a better make up job.

It will find itself greeted by the muzzle of a semi-automatic pistol. "I don't care how cute you look. I've blown the brains outta much prettier things."

The eyes get even bigger as the gun is levelled at it. Letting out a startled meep it hugs the ground giving her a disbelieving look. How could she possibly want to hurt it?

Given her mood right now? Quite easily. "Well, you're smart enough to recognize a threat when you see it. Which makes me wonder what else you got up your furry li'l sleeve." Her injured arm's beginning to ache, a dull throb that'll likely get worse. Zinda wipes another glob of gunk off her jacket. "If you know what's good for you, you'll scoot, right now."

She starts moving off down the hallway. She hopes it'll eventually connect up again wherever Plaz and Tiger are at.

The creature runs in front of her bounding along happily. This way, this way, back to her feet then a quick u-turn and down the hall.

She sighs. "Fine, Lassie. Whatever. But the second I see teeth or whatever crazy-ass stuff this guy did to you, I've got a bullet right here with your name on it."

The pain in her left arm is bothering her more and more. As much as she doesn't want to restrain the movement, she might do more damage to it if she continues to try and use it. Holstering one of her weapons and reaching into her pockets, Zinda brings out a small first-aid kit, sits back down and peels off her jacket to clean up the wound on her arm. The jacket's then put back on, the kit tucked away, and then she makes a makeshift gauze sling for it.

The creature sits a few feet away from her feet looking at her and trilling sympathetically while she bandages herself. When she's in the sling and ready to go again it starts it's little ritual of dashing at her feet then down the hall again.

She gives it a bemused look, then shakes her head as she gets to her feet, her left arm now secured. "So where're you leadin' me, Lassie? Hope there ain't no wells around here..." The Blackhawk cautiously follows the little animal down the passage. Maybe it'll connect back up with the others. Either way, maybe the animal at least knows where there's some food source. If she's going to be wandering for a while, she could use some sustenance.

It seems happy that she's following it and keeps up a little muttered series of trills and squeaks as it scampers. Once in a while it does a donut for no apparent reason.

It stops mid corridor and snuffles at the wall before bopping a patch on the wall with it's head and opening a door that was camoflaged with the rest of the wall.

Looking back at Zinda expectantly it trills and goes inside.

She fishes a flashlight from a pocket, and shines it ahead of her as she slowly approaches the opening. She's tired of nasty surprises.

It's a little dusty...except for the clean trail in the middle about the size of her guide...but otherwise seems okay. As they move lights click on overhead on a motion sensor.

Once they reach the end it bops it's head against another patch of wall to open another door.

Moving cautiously in case she wants to point bang things at it again it tries to rub against her shin on it's path around her legs before moving back to the door.

She edges forward slowly behind the Disney movie extra. "I swear, if you're leadin' me into another ambush of mutated half-breed animals..." she says quietly, putting the small flashlight in her slinged hand and bringing her gun to bear with the other just in case.

She didn't try to kick it or aim hurt things at her. It's so happy for a moment it has to roll on it's back and let out ecstatic trills before flipping back over and dashing out the door.

It's led her to a lab of some sort and it leaves her just inside the door do climb up one of the tables and start rooting around through a stack of papers.

Well, there's a ray of sunshine in this mess after all. She moves around the laboratory, inspecting the contents with a keen eye. "Yeah, you act all cute now," she mutters, looking over at the stack the creature's dived into.

The lab looks half modern half 50s camp with an oscilloscope and that machine that goes 'ping' over in the corner.

Rooting through the papers teeth are latched onto a slim book which is dragged to Zinda by a proud critter.

It's dropped in front of her while the creature looks at her expectantly. It's whiskers are trembling as it waits for her reaction.

She blinks a few times at it. Carefully, she kneels down and picks up the offered tome, opening its crusty and yellowed pages. Blue eyes widen as she takes in its pages, and she looks over the top of the book at the critter. "You just struck gold, buddy. Maybe I won't have to shoot you after all."

Suddenly, through the doorway comes the head of Plastic Man, wedged through the cracks and trying to unlock the door from the inside.

"Well, Hot Damn! How'd you get up here?"

The critter immediately puts himself between Zinda and the newcomer and puffs out all its hair.

Chittering in agitated tones it's obviously protecting her.

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Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly

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