Re: The Battle Royale S2 [Round 2: Prospect Creek]
02-25-2011, 03:22 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Pinary.
The happy, sane middle ground between the flying-ant dogfight and breakfast-dominated ex-town was the most relieving thing Geoff had seen in a long time. There were no random non sequiturs endangering his life, no murderous angels going insane and killing everyone. It was just a calm patch of desert, its most interesting features a few rolling dunes.
Geoff was becoming more and more aware of the effects the gas was having on him as he slowly moved along, half-carrying the supremely intoxicated Jeremy with him. His mind was losing focus, his reaction time was slowing, and everything just seemed less important.
For example, he didn't find himself particularly interested in Jereme's ramblings about how "they shaid to find'um and, uh... curvy, man, curvy! We hafta 'seeek theem oouut' or someoof."
It took a moment for the word "someoof" to meander its way casually through his mind and connect with the fact that Jeremy was no longer leaning on him for support. When it finally made it there, the Hattallan stopped, stood still for a moment, then turned to look.
One of the dangers of gathering myna gas was the risk of a sinkhole devouring the whole operation. The gas itself was the result of slowly-evaporating pools of liquid in a cavern below, only activated once it had filtered through the ceiling and out into the sunlight. People had tried to extract the raw liquid before, but they'd all failed. The caverns' ceilings were, by necessity, quite unstable, and any attempt to dig down invariably led to the whole place collapsing, releasing toxic amounts of gas and leaving everyone above dead or dying.
Jeremy, once he realized what was happening, started to flail. He didn't like sinking into what amounted to quicksand in the middle of the desert, really, and he made every effort to communicate this to his companion.
His efforts, of course, just lead to him being dragged down faster, and Geoff's efforts to assist weren't exactly doing much more. It wasn't long before they were both swallowed by sand, never to be seen again.
At least, that's what they assumed. When they fell out of the ceiling and onto a cold, damp floor, they changed their inebriated minds.
The only light was a dim flickering in the distance, and it seemed like the only logical goal. After a few awkward moments (and more than one "accidental" tumble on Jeremy's part), they managed to stand. Geoff, leading the way, moved towards the wall and, once there, started feeling his way along it.
After a few minutes and more than one slip, they made it to the far side of the cavern. There was a tunnel there, and the other end was lit. (By what looked to be sunlight, at that.) Slowly, they made their way down it. After twenty feet or so, the slick stone floor gave way to sand once more, and after a bit of a curve and ten more feet, they were outside once more. The tunnel's entrance was surrounded by wooden walls holding back the dunes that loomed around them, and climbing (well, stumbling) to the top of a convenient set of stairs, they could tell that it'd be fairly well-hidden.
"Let's, uh... Let's go back inside," Geoff suggested. "It's cooler in there." Jeremy, having lapsed into mumbles a while back, just turned and started back, nearly falling over the side of the stairs.
Back in the tunnel, they noticed a side-tunnel that hadn't been obvious from the other direction. Apparently, whoever had carved out this tunnel and hidden the exit had used it as a temporary home- a pool of water rested in one corner, and the three small crates were discovered to hold some sort of well-preserved meat.
It didn't take much to convince either that the small side-cave might be a good place to set a spell.
The happy, sane middle ground between the flying-ant dogfight and breakfast-dominated ex-town was the most relieving thing Geoff had seen in a long time. There were no random non sequiturs endangering his life, no murderous angels going insane and killing everyone. It was just a calm patch of desert, its most interesting features a few rolling dunes.
Geoff was becoming more and more aware of the effects the gas was having on him as he slowly moved along, half-carrying the supremely intoxicated Jeremy with him. His mind was losing focus, his reaction time was slowing, and everything just seemed less important.
For example, he didn't find himself particularly interested in Jereme's ramblings about how "they shaid to find'um and, uh... curvy, man, curvy! We hafta 'seeek theem oouut' or someoof."
It took a moment for the word "someoof" to meander its way casually through his mind and connect with the fact that Jeremy was no longer leaning on him for support. When it finally made it there, the Hattallan stopped, stood still for a moment, then turned to look.
One of the dangers of gathering myna gas was the risk of a sinkhole devouring the whole operation. The gas itself was the result of slowly-evaporating pools of liquid in a cavern below, only activated once it had filtered through the ceiling and out into the sunlight. People had tried to extract the raw liquid before, but they'd all failed. The caverns' ceilings were, by necessity, quite unstable, and any attempt to dig down invariably led to the whole place collapsing, releasing toxic amounts of gas and leaving everyone above dead or dying.
Jeremy, once he realized what was happening, started to flail. He didn't like sinking into what amounted to quicksand in the middle of the desert, really, and he made every effort to communicate this to his companion.
His efforts, of course, just lead to him being dragged down faster, and Geoff's efforts to assist weren't exactly doing much more. It wasn't long before they were both swallowed by sand, never to be seen again.
At least, that's what they assumed. When they fell out of the ceiling and onto a cold, damp floor, they changed their inebriated minds.
The only light was a dim flickering in the distance, and it seemed like the only logical goal. After a few awkward moments (and more than one "accidental" tumble on Jeremy's part), they managed to stand. Geoff, leading the way, moved towards the wall and, once there, started feeling his way along it.
After a few minutes and more than one slip, they made it to the far side of the cavern. There was a tunnel there, and the other end was lit. (By what looked to be sunlight, at that.) Slowly, they made their way down it. After twenty feet or so, the slick stone floor gave way to sand once more, and after a bit of a curve and ten more feet, they were outside once more. The tunnel's entrance was surrounded by wooden walls holding back the dunes that loomed around them, and climbing (well, stumbling) to the top of a convenient set of stairs, they could tell that it'd be fairly well-hidden.
"Let's, uh... Let's go back inside," Geoff suggested. "It's cooler in there." Jeremy, having lapsed into mumbles a while back, just turned and started back, nearly falling over the side of the stairs.
Back in the tunnel, they noticed a side-tunnel that hadn't been obvious from the other direction. Apparently, whoever had carved out this tunnel and hidden the exit had used it as a temporary home- a pool of water rested in one corner, and the three small crates were discovered to hold some sort of well-preserved meat.
It didn't take much to convince either that the small side-cave might be a good place to set a spell.