Jemma Simmons (
protect_and_survey) wrote2013-12-29 10:29 pm
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Jemma wakes up in the dark with an unexpected headache and a severe case of disorientation.
"Fitz, I think Marrihew spiked the punch again." She groans, struggling to sit up.
"... Fitz?"
"... Leo?"
"Fitz, I think Marrihew spiked the punch again." She groans, struggling to sit up.
"... Fitz?"
"... Leo?"
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That's assuming they get out alive.
It really does smell of cows in here. Like. Cows from the Jersey Shore. Who haven't bathed. In decades.
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Rae watches the minotaur hesitate, its every step shaking the rocks beneath its... well, its hooves, Rae would assume.
With another bellow, it lunges off into the darkness, searching for them further along the broken corridor they had left.
Rae only moves again when the crashing hoof-steps have grown distant and her heartrate has begun its descent back towards normal.
"...Sorry about that," she whispers, bringing up another - dimmer - hovering light above them.
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"So what now?"
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"How's your ankle?"
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And just how screwed they are.
"I can... I can help heal your ankle, if you'd like. It just got twisted, right?"
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Jemma and Rae continue on, though the labyrinth seems endless. They don't know what might be waiting for them around each turn, or through the next door, but they'll find out, and eventually find their way back.