applesaucedream | Encampment Under the Sea [Open to All]

Encampment Under the Sea [Open to All]

photo encampmentunderthesea_zps98ceddce.jpg

Since the dreamers of Manhattan had such a lovely time at the last vaguely-nautical-themed party, the Rift has decided to step things up a notch. Tonight, the dreamers will find themselves in what appears to be a city very much like the one they inhabit in the waking world, full of towering skyscrapers, neon signs, and heavy traffic. But there is one rather crucial difference: this city is located deep underwater, and the aforementioned traffic is mostly whales and fish, with the occasional submersible thrown into the mix.

The walls and windows are heavily reinforced to withstand the pressure of the water outside, and the people who dwell in these buildings seem to be doing rather well for themselves, for the most part. Buildings are connected by enclosed walkways, so barring any horrible accidents, the dreamers should have no problem getting around without getting too wet.

Much like the city they inhabit in the waking world, some areas are more obviously affluent than others, and the dreamers are as likely to stumble upon an upscale club as an underwater pub. But while the chances of a full structural breakdown are slim, there are definitely some areas that are on the leaky side, and a general sense of claustrophobia pervades the city wherever you might find yourself.

Explore. Or, if you're feeling particularly ambitious, attempt to escape. Either way, take care - it's hard to say what might be lurking in the darkness just beyond the city lights.

[ooc: Y'all know the drill. All characters are welcome, whether they are in the game or not. Characters can remember or forget the events of the dreaming at the player's discretion. And the party never stops - backtag into infinity!]

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Seth ducks his head guiltily at Daniel's scolding. Except he doesn't want to feel bad about it, because hey, Daniel's not dead! Just the mere fact that he is capable of giving Seth this lecture is reason enough it was worth it. But he finds it a little hard to listen to Daniel's disapproval.

At the last bit though, he has to object. "Yeah, no reason except the hole clean through your stomach." Seth may be in bad shape, but even if had passed out, he'd wouldn't be anywhere near mortal peril from it.

"You gave me your healing power. It was working. It's still working." Well, all right, so he's still having trouble with the whole sitting-up-and-talking thing and it still hurts like hell and there's probably still internal damage, but (he has a but, he has a point, he has a good point that he is getting to) he's now fairly certain that he will live through this after all.

(Probably.)

(He has lived through worse and he will keep telling himself that.)

"You didn't need to do that to yourself. 'Cause, I mean, aside from the morality factor - and don't think I'm done with that, because I'm not, at all - now we're both in bad shape. And what's more, it wasn't worth it."

He really hadn't intended to let that last remark slip out, but it's done and he's too tired and aching too much all over to do much about it now.

Seth is just going to sit here frowning at his shoes. He seems to be incapable of looking at Daniel at this very moment. Because what he's saying, or perhaps mostly the way he's saying it, kind of stings.

He really, badly wants to shoot up now. Both for the aching in his body, and to just be blissfully ignorant of everything for a little while. With that option ruled out, he wants to get up and walk away from this conversation, just put a little distance between them, but given the fact he's actually yet to get properly to his feet since they were carried down the river, he's not entirely sure he trusts his legs. And he really doesn't want to give Daniel any further proof it was a bad idea.

It takes him a moment for the meaning of the last sentence to sink in, and he looks up sharply. "What, you're saying your life's worth less than mine?"

It almost sounds like if Seth's offended by the implication. Even with the limited familiarity he has with Daniel, it's pretty obvious that's bullshit. As if Seth - selfish, closed-off, drug-addicted Seth who's built a career on exploiting people - could be worth more than someone like Daniel.

"What I'm saying is that my life isn't worth any more than anyone else's," he retorts, "including yours. It was a stupid thing to do. I'm sorry, but there it is. You could have gotten out and instead you -"

He clips the sentence oddly. He's opened a can of really ugly, personal worms and he doesn't want to sort through them individually and by name. Unfortunately, that looks to be exactly where the conversation is going.

"You could have gotten out," he starts again, dismal and worn, "and you didn't. You could have made it outta here, but now it's more likely that we'll both die instead."

There is the very slight potential for survival for them both, true, but it's not looking good. Neither of them are in any condition to walk very quickly, much less run if the situation calls for it. They're stuck. Because Daniel couldn't move out of the way fast enough.

Seth rolls his eyes at how ridiculous Daniel is being. It might have been reckless, but given the result, it wasn't that stupid.

He has quite a few arguments against what Daniel is saying. For one thing, his chances may have been decreased a little by weakening himself, but there is no way to know he could've gotten out. Conversely, is no way to know they won't both still escape. What he knows he did do is give Daniel a much better chance at survival, at limited cost to himself. And if their lives are worth the same, then decreasing Seth's chances a little while increasing Daniel's chances a lot is actually a pretty good trade.

However, at the moment he is far too frustrated and tired and in pain to properly argue this point, and words don't seem to want to come, and he doesn't want Daniel to look at him right now because his eyes are stinging. So instead he gets to his feet - carefully, thankfully not stumbling even as his muscles protest painfully - and walks off to the glass wall, staring out into the endless blue.

Edited 2014-10-03 06:42 (UTC)

Oh, good, now Seth's moving away, gingerly, with all the slowness of someone who shouldn't be moving at all. Daniel's head drops to his chest as he silently berates himself; he doesn't know how badly off Seth is and now, thanks to not having his priorities in line, there's no way to tell. Unless he...well, that would be a bad idea, given his current state, but Daniel doesn't have a lot of options. He's certainly not going be able to to apologize or pep talk or whatever by calling it at Seth's back.

He's already sitting, so there's step one. Good. That's good. Next he needs to - carefully maneuver his legs beneath him so he can - ow ow ow ow ow - he can do this, he's fine, he's fine, he's just been recently impaled, that's all, no big deal really -

Daniel realizes approximately halfway through that this is an extremely bad course of action and he's forced to abort, awkwardly, shoulders jerking, while he's still in the transitional stage of half-kneeling and half-crouching, and he has to plant both hands on the ground while he slides back down, arms trembling with effort, until he's mostly just sitting back on his heels, painfully, hands on his knees, breath hitching in his throat and abdomen on fire and it's a miracle he's managed to keep himself from yelping from the agony piercing through there, but he's fine, he's fine.

Okay, so.

Bad idea.

He looks back up at Seth, who is probably pissed off at him and himself and the place they're trapped in and the water and everything. And even Daniel has to admit to himself that, yeah, he could have handled that better. Seth saved his life and practically the first thing he did after waking up was snap at him for the way he did it. There's no nice way of putting it - that was just a dick move. Daniel knows it.

He's furious with himself. He's furious that he just gave Seth what roughly amounted to a stern talking-to when Seth's been having just as rough a time of it as he is, if not more so. He's furious that any of that was even necessary to begin with, because Daniel should have moved out of the way and been smart about it. He's furious that they're stuck here, both injured and hurt and angry and unwilling to talk to each other, and he's furious that this is his fault. And he's still furious with Seth, more abstractly, for doing something stupid and noble and heroic and saving his life, and Daniel is being hypocritical because he would have done the same had their positions been reversed. Except for maybe the blood transfusion part. Yeah, no, he definitely wouldn't have done that.

"Look, I'm sorry." Immediately after he says it, he's seized with the bizarre urge to laugh, bitterly, because that word has already been said way too many times today and it's practically lost its meaning at this point and it doesn't convey half of what it needs to.

Seth leans his forehead against the cool glass, and shivers a bit, closing his eyes and not turning around even as he can hear Daniel shuffling about. He doesn't really need to make himself colder, his inactivity and not yet dry clothing has been doing a good job of it. Yet here he stands.

Even when Daniel apologises, Seth doesn't immediately respond. He's wondering what it would be like to try to swim if he's phasing through the water. Would there be anything keeping him up or would he just plummet? Obviously you can't walk on water, so the way he does it when walking through walls, only staying solid in relation to the floor beneath him, that wouldn't work in an ocean, because what's keeping you up is the air in you making you float.

He sighs and finally turns back to Daniel, then immediately frowns at how he's clearly been trying to get up. "For fuck's sake, lie down, you moron," he says, walking hastily back over to Daniel to help him into a less painful position.

Edited 2014-10-03 08:02 (UTC)

Daniel gives up and allows Seth to help him sit back down.

"All right, so not one of my better ideas." The words come out strained as he sinks back to the ground. "Noted."

With aggravating slowness and no small amount of unpleasant twinges in his thoracic region, Daniel is gradually able to scoot backwards until he can lean against a wall and just - put all his weight on that surface instead of propping himself uncomfortably on his elbows. Yes. That's good. That's better.

"I am sorry. I mean, I'm lucky you were here, or I would've had to add 'impaling' to the long and illustrious list of 'Ways Daniel Jackson Has Died In Exceptionally Painful Ways'." There, he's trying for a bit of morbid humor, tentatively, even if he's having trouble cobbling together something appropriately eloquent to follow that up with. "Not to be confused with the, uh, less long and illustrious list of 'Ways Daniel Jackson Has Died in Mundane and Uninteresting Ways'."

Oh my god, why is he still talking?

"I'm trying to thank you and, ah...doing an admittedly very poor job of that. I'll have you know I'm choosing to blame the morphine."

A not terribly small part of him still wishes Seth had just - gone and gotten out. He probably could have, phased through everything with his power, bypassed the inconsequentialities of mortar and concrete, and gotten someplace safe. But he didn't. He'd gone and rushed in without thinking to save someone he only sort of knew, even at the risk of his own life. Back home, that had always been the unspoken policy: no one is left behind and if, by some error, they are, you turn around and damn well go get them back. There's the whole having-each-other's-back mentality that holds fast in a military setting, one of the few things about that environment that Daniel had agreed with. It gelled with his own set of morals. He's been like that, always, even to those outside his immediate friend circle. He sees a sword coming someone's way and he walks in front of it, with or without the guarantee that it will be removed.

He doesn't know what to do when someone he's known for all of a day does the same for him.

Seth might not have meant it, but he'd made a very distinct statement when he'd pulled Daniel free and then, with no regard for his own injuries, given him his healing power without a second thought. Something along the lines of finding Daniel worth the trouble and he...has trouble wrapping his mind around the thought. He'd been stupid, he'd messed up, he'd paid the direct consequences, and the universe worked out its perverse need for karmic retribution rather nicely, only Seth had been there to intervene and shift the whole cycle of the thing.

To be honest, he doesn't know how he feels about that.

Morbid humour, that Seth can do. That's nice and familiar. He scoots up next to Daniel, listening to him talk, not saying anything but at least noticeably softening at his words.

Well, until Daniel mentions the morphine again, and Seth tenses up just a little, eyes flicking to the kit still lying on the floor. It would be great if he could forget the existence of it for at least five minutes or something. He reaches up and rubs at his arm again.

"Well, it's the thought that counts, and all that," he answers, once he realises Daniel is done talking for the moment.

The drugs are wearing off in earnest now, thankfully, leaving Daniel observant enough to see Seth shoot a look at the morphine kit once he mentions it. The gesture is just as ambiguous in meaning as it is in context. He files it away.

"Well, we were lucky that you had that with you." He inclines his chin at the kit. "Even luckier that it wasn't washed away. If only my glasses were so lucky." He smirks wryly and lets his head thump back to rest against the wall, using the motion to shove all the worries and issues with self-worth and Seth and stupid heroics and unsanitary, ill-advised blood transfusions out of the forefront. "God, what a day."

Seth smiles bitterly and gives Daniel's shoulder a comforting pat. He's not sure if he could be trying to move his arms as little as possible, or if he needs to make sure they don't stiffen up.

"Well, if it helps, the whole blood-stained shirt and stomach wound goes a lot better with the broad-shouldered action hero look you've got going on, more than the glasses did," he jokes tiredly. Though Daniel does look a bit like a different person with them. They did really do a lot for the studious look.

"Truly a relief to know that even when I've been impaled, my machismo remains willfully intact," he answers drolly. Seth is talking and smiling and joking again, even if it's all still pretty well steeped in the realm of gallows humor, and that's a step forward. "I was worried about that."

Seth snorts gently at that. "Pretty sure you never have to worry about that, mate," he answers. God, he wishes he had a beer or something. Something to do with his hands. And something to take the edge off. Somewhere amidst the exhaustion, hunger is starting to make itself known too.

He sighs and reaches up to rub his eyes. "So, what are we gonna do?" Yeah, for actual planning, Seth is just going to look to the one who's actually with the military and has been exploring alien planets. His plans are usually more like 'make it up as you go and hope for the best' most of the time.

"Well, ideally, we should find a way out. Call me paranoid, but I don't think 'underwater concrete maze' exactly screams 'safe'."

He looks up and around as he says it, studying the building's interior. He still has no idea what sort of purpose this place must have. Or had. It seems abandoned now, which is perhaps why it doesn't have an obvious function.

"Then, if our luck hasn't run out by then, we can find someplace that is safe." He adjusts his position against the wall and winces. "Preferably with a greater variety in medical help than just morphine. No offense."

"Yeah, unfortunately I don't walk around with a full first-aid kit," he answers with a sigh. And even if he'd had one in the room he woke up in, yeah, he wouldn't have brought that while he was busy drowning.

"Not sure we're going to be able to do anything about the 'underwater' thing, though. I can't see the surface." It's hard to tell exactly how far down they are though, since the light from the surrounding structures make it difficult to tell if they're getting light from above. But on the plus side, it seems to be a pretty huge location, which means just because this place is deserted doesn't mean they'll find people elsewhere. There's still light on, after all. Something's gotta run this place.

"So phasing out to try and swim up would probably be a bad call." That had been next on his conjectural list of suggestions, an option he has now nixed.

"Whatever we decide to do, I'd like to suggest a minimum of walking. Or drowning. Or impaling." With an emphasis on the latter. The morphine's almost assuredly fading out of his system by now; what used to be a bearable throbbing at his stomach is steadily ratcheting up in intensity. He curls one hand over the injury. It might not feel like his insides are in danger of spilling out anymore, but damn if it doesn't still sting.

"Agreed," he answers with a nod. Really just a minimum of pain and injury and terror in general. They'll just have to see if they can actually manage to stick to that plan.

"And yeah, bad call, especially since I can't swim," he adds, figuring Daniel should know this if they keep getting into these situations where water and drowning is a possibility. Which... does not seem entirely unlikely.

Daniel looks up at that, mildly surprised. That's a factor he hadn't taken into account. The basics of swimming and treading water had been right up there with learning how to load and fire a Beretta. He makes a mental note to, assuming they get out of this alive, address this at a later point.

"Well, you did a good job keeping us both alive, considering." Considering it had been a massive amount of water coming at them, considering Daniel hadn't been able to swim, much less move or think or be in any way useful, considering they were lost in a place with gray never-ending walls, considering Seth had had nothing but his phasing power to keep them both afloat.

Considering all that.

Edited 2014-10-03 20:00 (UTC)

"Amazing what panicked kicking and flailing can do, huh?" he answers with a small smile. At the time he'd been pretty worried whether he was even managing to keep Daniel's head above water, but thankfully he had not had to keep trying for all that long.

He sighs and decides he should at least look around a little now Daniel is back to himself. He reaches over and packs up his kit so he can take it with him, then gets to his feet. A little too quickly, it turns out, because he has a moment of lightheadedness and has to reach out and steady himself against the wall.

"Take it easy," Daniel cautions, cringing. "You all right there?"

Seth has lost a lot of blood, no thanks to his improvised transfusion, and just because he's in better external condition doesn't mean he should actually be moving around. Daniel wishes he could stand to help but he's still in decommission from his last failed attempt. One hand still jumps up, palm out, as if simply holding it there will be enough to steady his friend.

"Yeah," he answers after a moment, nodding. "Just.. don't plan to be running any marathons any time soon."

At least his legs are in slightly better than condition than his arms, so as long as he doesn't overexert himself, he should be fine to walk around. Just tired and stiff, achy knees from slamming them into the floor, but still less painful than when he tries to use his arms.

"I'm just gonna look what's around," he adds, heading towards one of the doors. There's three of them here, and they appear to open outwards. That's good, at least. If there's water on the other side, Seth simply won't be able to open it, so no chance of it rushing at them. The first one he tries has exactly that result - either locked, or just blocked. And he's not about to try shoving it open.

"Careful," Daniel says, just for good measure. It's redundant at this point, but he's still guilty over how poorly he handled his life getting saved.

He's also examining the doors - as best he can at this distance with no glasses, anyway - and they look an awful lot like the pressurized sorts of doors that people put on airlocks. To separate themselves from horrible imminent death.

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"Well..." he answers slowly. "We sort of have limited options." He turns and leans against the door, sighing. He wants to be cautious, but at the same time, they can't actually stay here forever.

"I could stick my head through the wall again, but... I mean, it's kind of exhausting to do a lot," he admits. It is a possibility, if there are simply no other options, but he doesn't want to use it so much he completely runs out what energy he has left in him.

"And also you could die," Daniel adds, lending special emphasis to the last word. "If there's more water on the other side or something...worse?"

He wets his lips and goes over their options, which there really aren't that many of. Option A would be to stay here, though that's not advisable. Option B would be to go back the way they came but, seeing as that place is probably swamped with water by now, that doesn't look to be a viable solution either.

Leaving Option C.

The infallible third route.

He ducks his head and makes a muted well, get on with it motion with one hand. Seth's right - they don't have any other choice.

Delightful.

Seth moves on to the second door, which proves to be just as unopenable. He sighs and crosses the room towards the third and last door, which does open.

He doesn't leave Daniel, just looks through the door. There's a wide, spiral staircase, going both up and down. He can't say he looks forward to walking up stairs, and Daniel certainly won't, but at the same time he's not sure he'd be overly enthusiastic about being in an elevator either, judging by the state of this place.

"There's a staircase," he says, turning back to Daniel. "Not sure how far it goes, but I'm guessing there'll be less water the further up we go."

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