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'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.

[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."

[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?