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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"Stairs?" Daniel looks up at Seth, then down at his injury. Then back at Seth. Then down at his injury. Then back at Seth. "Oof."

Stairs don't sound like fun. Walking in general doesn't sound like fun, but neither does sitting here and waiting for the water or something worse to catch up to them.

"Well, it's now or never." He pauses. "Er, I guess not, actually but - you know, never mind. Just let me - " He plants one hand on the wall, grunting at the onset of pain that single action brings, and braces himself. And begins his slow, agonizing ascent, inching upward and practically clinging to the wall for support and trying not to think about how much it feels like his abdominal muscles are tearing with each movement.

Seth hurries over to help Daniel up. Given the state he's in himself though, and how huge Daniel is, it's not like he can properly lift him or anything, just help and give him some support. That'll have to be good enough.

"Just lean on me, we'll take our time, yeah?" he says, putting his arm around Daniel's back, careful to avoid the wound there.

"Oh, yeah. Time. We're taking it. It's good." And that's about all the words Daniel has the lung capacity for at the moment, strained and torn and with more effort than he's altogether comfortable with. He leans on Seth as much as he dares - which isn't much, what with how bad a condition they're both in - and lets the wall take the rest.

He's blinking alarmingly bright spots out of his vision by the time he's fully upright, but he still lifts his eyebrows and grins at the success, exhausted and vaguely triumphant.

"Stairs don't stand a chance," he announces with far more confidence than he's feeling. His whole lower half feels sore and shaky and he'd probably pitch over sideways if he dared let go of the wall (which he does not) but he's chosen to read this as a victory. He turns to Seth, panting.

"Shall we?"

Seth frowns in sympathy, wishing this were easier, or that either of them felt safe enough to stick around longer so they could rest a little. But at least they're not currently fighting the flood. Small mercies.

"We shall," he agrees, trying to sound more optimistic than he feels. He heads towards the door at a pretty slow rate, mostly letting Daniel set the speed, and not moving away from the wall. Putting one foot in front of the other probably isn't as hard, but it's going to be a pain actually braving stairs and having to move vertically as well. Funny how much further everything seems when you move at this speed.

Moving faster than this would be ideal, but Daniel doesn't think he's capable of a very broad range of movement. And tempted as he is to urge Seth to move ahead and let him catch up (hopefully without any undue dramatic pleading from either party), Seth's reaction to the earlier suggestion that he should have left Daniel in the first place has pretty severely nipped that option in the bud.

It feels like an age before they finally reach the doorway and Daniel has to take a minute. He leans against the doorway and examines their chosen route, taking note of the stairway's construction, its wide steps and sickeningly corkscrew-like design, constricting their view of everything other than what is directly in front or behind them.

"Wonderful," Daniel comments between panting and trying not to crumple under the effort of standing for so long. "Up, then? And hopefully, uh, away."

"Yup," Seth answers, looking up the stairs, even though there isn't much to see except for stone steps and stone walls. "Hopefully the further up we go, the less damage there is, and the closer we get to civilization... Maybe the reason we've got all this water coming our way is cause they're draining it to the lower levels. That makes sense, right?"

He rolls his shoulders back, his body protesting to supporting Daniel's weight, but he refuses to consider other options. They're not in a good enough state that splitting up would be safe. Especially since they have no way to communicate.

"Mm-hm." That's about all he feels capable of vocalizing at the present time, too preoccupied trying to prepare himself for the daunting and no doubt intensely painful task of getting up an unknown number of stairs while injured.

No point in putting it off. The first step burns like hell and the second is even worse and their progress is achingly, tediously slow. Not to mention aching in just about every other way possible. This much movement has already made him faintly light-headed again and he's started trembling on top of it.

"Anytime you wanna take a breather," he hisses out by the third step, "would be okay."

Seth walks a little ahead of Daniel, so he can help lift him onto the next step each time. Which he seems to be doing more and more for each step.

"Come on, let's make it to the fifth step first," he says encouragingly, making an effort to keep his voice from sounding pained, his own legs and shoulders and arms aching, but surely nowhere near how much pain Daniel must be in. "We can make it to the next floor, I'll go in and see what's there, maybe we won't even need to go further up."

He goes as far as he can manage until the pain is pretty well unbearable, which is about ten steps. He can feel Seth taking the weight more and more every time.

"Look," he says, panting, letting himself slip against the wall with a soft "oof" and a stab of guilt, "we're not getting very far like this. You can just - check ahead. See how far it is. I'll just keep, uh, keep going as much as I can."

He hunches against the wall, one arm wrapped around his middle, trying to breathe away fresh surges of nausea. Then he looks back up at Seth, forces a pained grin.

"This isn't a 'go on without me' thing, it's just a, um. Strategic. Besides, you need a break from this as much as I do."

Daniel should be able to tell pretty easily from Seth's face that he's not going to go for it. Even with his legs aching like they are, and he's not entirely confident he'll make it that far this way either, but then he's not sure how far he'd make it on his own either. And he'd rather not be on his own.

"Not a chance," he answers, breathing a little heavily himself. "But you're right, I do need a break, let's sit down for a bit," he adds, going to help Daniel with that.

"Besides, if I do that, chances are I'll have to come back and find you again, probably passed out halfway up, and I do not have the energy to walk up these stairs twice, much less while carrying you," he says jokingly, smiling encouragingly against the pain.

"I just spent some indeterminate amount of time lying on the ground and staring at the ceiling and thinking it was amazing," Daniel replies. He allows himself to slide down partway but doesn't go any further - standing up again would take too much time and probably make things worse. "I think I've rested enough. I just don't think I can move quick enough when, er, if we need to."

It's not an optimistic situational assessment but this environment has hardly been very friendly to either of them, and Daniel is still expecting the next awful thing to creep up at them any minute.

"Anyway," he continues, somewhat brighter than before, "I think I owe you a lot of dinners at this point. What with the saving me and the...saving me. Again. This is getting to be a continuous thing. Not that I mind, really, I just don't think I have enough money for all the dinners I owe you now. Maybe I can cook. I can try to cook. I like to think I can cook. Not sure if my skill matches my enthusiasm."

He takes a sharp breath and winces. He's rambling. It's how he copes.

"I am really sorry about all this," he adds quietly.

Seth just nods sympathetically at the unnecessary apology. It's not his fault, it's probably not anyone's fault - well, maybe the Rift's fault. When in doubt, blame the Rift. What else could've dumped them here, after all? But he doesn't have the energy to focus on working that one out right now.

"I don't cook either, so my standards are low, if that helps," he answers. "And you can pay me back over an extended period, like a loan. Mind you, there might be interests. I'll probably have you make me dessert too."

If Daniel was a girl, Seth would add a cheeky 'and breakfast', but he bites that one back.

"Sounds good." Daniel nods, continuing to play along. "We can make it a weekly thing. I can cook, we can put on a movie. Long as you have coffee, I'm there." He has to stop to swallow hard, driving back the urge to retch, and has to not think about how much coffee he's going to need after this. Because it is going to be so much coffee.

The thought of coffee sets his head pounding - great work on that, Daniel. He needs a distraction, so he rights himself and grabs the wall again, making earnest effort to get up the next step on his own, which is a very poor choice as far as distractions go but then, that's just Daniel's excellent planning abilities coming into play.

"Won't happen if we don't get out," he grinds out, good god what a bad idea, he's staying up just by virtue of the wall and he's going to get up the steps, he's already decided.

"And I promise I won't make it an Irish coffee without telling you," he answers with a smile, though perhaps mentioning alcohol is a mistake, based on how sick Daniel looks.

His sudden movements take Seth by surprise, he doesn't properly have time to force his help on him for the first step. For the second one he's right there though, taking Daniel's arm and wrapping it around his shoulders.

He keeps his eyes fixed on the next step, and then the room creaks, in a way he's pretty sure concrete is not supposed to. He looks up, but nothing more happens. "Well, that's mildly unnerving," he comments.

Edited 2014-10-08 00:34 (UTC)

"Well, ah, we already know the structural integrity of this place is shot," Daniel answers, teeth gritted, grateful for the support but already starting to waver. "Concrete and rebar is generally pretty strong but if we're underwater then there's bound to be, um," he breaks off for a minute, the skin around his eyes tightening with the effort not to groan aloud as they take the next step, "some wear and tear."

He tries without success to keep his mind on architecture but now he might be a little worried that too much agitation will reopen the injury. It probably would have by now if he didn't have Seth's healing power (though he has Seth to thank for a lot of things, saving his life included). He's just going to have to trust that the power will do its job, however slowly, and accept that healing does not necessarily mean total elimination of pain.

"I think if we stay close to the walls we shouldn't, oof, uh, have a lot of problems. I mean, that's not really an issue anyway." Yes, Daniel is getting quite closely acquainted with the sturdy, damp-smelling concrete wall. Having to rely on it quite heavily to keep walking has that effect.

Edited 2014-10-08 01:21 (UTC)

"Alright..." Seth answers, not entirely convinced. Possibly related to their luck so far. He doesn't exactly trust things to be easy. But. They're halfway up the stairs to the next level now, they must be.

And then there's another ominous sound from above, like an intermittent rumbling getting louder each time. God, it better not be water rushing down the stairs, because if it is, they're definitely both dead, unless Seth can manage to throw them through the wall again. And considering how exhausted he currently is, he's not sure his reflexes are good enough, and there's no saying what they'd actually land on on the other side, and how badly it would hurt them.

And then the sound of rocks crashing down - because that is definitely what it is, he realises suddenly - becomes much louder, and he can see the ceiling above them cracking and breaking as if in slow motion, but it can't have taken more than a second.

A second which is enough for him to push Daniel backwards and out of the way, but not move away himself as the steps in front of them break and fall away under the weight of stone and concrete debris landing on top of them, and suddenly there is nothing for Seth to stand on.

All that's going through his mind at the moment is swearwords and oh god I'm going to die as he somehow finds himself hanging off the edge, clinging desperately to the steps with muscles that no longer have strength in them.

One minute they're making inching, painful progress.

And then the world detonates.

There's only the telltale rumble of a warning from some distant point above their heads and then ceiling drops on them, and Daniel has the reflex to look up and gape at the collapsing chunks of rock, the showering debris, but remains rooted, frozen, knowing he'll never be able to clear the striking radius in time.

Except that something shoves him, firm and backward, and he strikes the wall and the momentum carries him down, curled on the bottommost stairs in an agonized, concave arch, hands wrapped around a wound that has torn open again and begun to ooze sluggishly. For a minute he can't think through the noise and the shaking and the pain, he can only lie there, urging his muscles to move but with no success. Then, mercifully, adrenaline finally kicks in - he can move, and look up, and ignore the way everything burns when he twists his neck up to look at the ceiling and realize that there no longer is a ceiling.

Nor is there a floor.

Nor is there Seth.

Shit.

Daniel scrambles up - or he tries to, and can only make it to his knees before he yelps and reflexively rams one hand on the ground for support, the other pressing furiously against the freshly bleeding hole in his middle. He doesn't have the lung capacity to call out and he still can't see Seth, meaning -

- meaning nothing.

With massive, aching effort, he hauls himself up what remains of the stairs on his elbows and knees, ignoring the scrape of stone and rubble on burning arms and an abused torso, until he sees someone clinging to the edge of the space where the floor used to be.

"Seth," Daniel hisses, nearly breathless from the exertion. "Seth -"

And then he can see it. Seth is slipping. Seth is slipping.

The pull of damaged muscles and reopened injuries is inconsequential. The threat of death is irrelevant - and when has that ever stopped him? Daniel crawls the remainder of the space and stretches a hand out, grappling to get a hold on Seth's arm, his shoulder, anything, and keep him from slipping.

Just grab him. Just grab him.

His arms hurt. That's the only thought that's really solid in his mind. His arms hurt, but he can't let go. They must've hit the stone pretty hard when he grabbed hold, because right now they're throbbing and it takes all his effort to keep holding, his fingers slipping. He barely even remembers to start breathing again after his chest knocked against the floor when he fell.

A second thought manages to make it in: Daniel.

Where is Daniel?

Is he okay? Did he get hit? Did he get hurt even more after Seth fucking pushed the wounded man down the stairs?

Then he hears his voice, thank God. Thank fucking God and Hell and everything in between, there he is, he's coming towards Seth, who just keeps holding on. And then Daniel is there, and Seth tries to grab hold of him --

He falls.

Things don't properly register after that point. It's long a long fall, but the stairs below are covered in debris and he hits them all wrong, landing on his back onto jagged stones, he doesn't have the breath to scream, before he tumbles further down, then finally coming to a stop. Rocks continue to roll over him as he lies there facing the ceiling, and he tries to shield his face. Slowly things start to settle.

He experiences it all as if very far away, like he can only see the hole in the ceiling above him at the end of a very long tunnel, as if his ears are muffled with cotton, and everything happens very fast and very slow, and everything is pain and everything is numbness.

He reaches.

He reaches, he reaches, he strains even though every muscle is screaming, he reaches past the bleeding and roaring in his ears and he reaches for Seth, fingers slipping across one hand for a minute before Seth -

- before -

- he's gone, abruptly, vanished between blinks, and there's crumbling stone and not even a scream, Seth is just gone and Daniel is left clawing at empty air, still trying to call out but unable to, his brain has stopped working, his mouth works soundlessly, his fist open and closes uselessly, he can only lean over the space Seth occupied before he inexplicably vanished, hand flapping dumbly at empty air, trying to think -

The stairs.

He turns and slides down them, halfway on his feet and halfway clinging to the wall and it's so much easier going down than it is up, he keeps turning the spiraled length of slabbed concrete and mortar, the whole place feels like it's shaking and his heart is in his ears and his chest is numb and nothing is entering his hearing canal, he's practically falling down now, heading lower, trying to call out, searching and squinting for any sign of Seth where has he gone, his torso blazing with muddled, fragmented hurt, it is not important right now, he just needs to find Seth because he should have caught him, he should have grabbed him, this is Daniel's fault, he could have saved him.

The wound is practically bleeding freely when he slips and throws out his palms to break his forward fall, the skin rubbing raw, but he lands and looks up and sees -

Oh god, no.

"Seth," he wheezes, dragging himself at the prone figure in a bizarre almost-military low crawl, on elbows and knees and leaving dark trailed blood with each forward movement. "Seth, Seth, come on. Seth. Seth, you're all right. It's okay, it's - Seth."

The words jar in his throat when he sees at how the man lies, his whole body arranged wrongly, at an awkward and terrible angle, and how he does not move.

"Seth, god, no." It's whispered and it's desperate and Daniel crawls closer, the pain knotted tight in his gut now quite numb. He gets close enough to reach out and grasp the other man's hand and it's worryingly limp, it's not moving, Seth is not moving, oh god.

Oh god.

Seth closes his eyes for a while, just laying there. Breathing shallowly. There's pain in his stomach now, that wasn't there before, he's pretty sure. It feels like it should be sharp, but all sensation comes through a hazy fog, making it difficult to make out much of anything. He should be getting up and seeing how badly he's hurt, but he can't seem to muster the will or the power to do so.

He's not sure exactly how long he lies there, but then he realises he can hear his name, and someone's taken his hand.

His eyes open slowly, and he turns his head to look.

"Daniel?" he asks, surprised to see him for a moment. His voice is barely audible, like a whisper, but not pained. He feels a little as if he's high. "Are you ok?"

"Seth -" He swallows, hard, his throat jagged, and pulls himself closer. It's such an absurd question, almost laughable were it not for their circumstances, that the first thing Seth should ask -

"I'm fine." He's bleeding again and bruised all over and his palms feel like they're missing the skin on them and it's possible he broke or sprained or damaged something on the tumble down but, god, Daniel can't really bring himself to care about any of that because Seth is - this is -

It's bad.

"Seth, hey. Come on." He gets one hand behind the other man's neck, a horrible reversal of their positions from what can't have been just an hour ago, partially kneeling and trying to work out how to get his friend up without severely damaging him further, because he will get up, he will. "You're gonna be okay. It'll be fine, you'll be -" But Daniel can't imagine he will be, because Seth should not be lying like that, the human spine is not meant to be in that position, oh god, oh god, no. "Seth - oh god, I'm sorry. Shit, I - Seth."

He wishes he could shut his eyes, block it out, but he can't and he doesn't. He could have made it. He could have reached him. He could have held onto him and he didn't.

"Don't try to move, okay? Just, just - shit. It'll be fine. Shit. I'm sorry, Seth, I - it'll be fine." God, his voice is shaking. Everything is shaking. He can't see anything clearly and his hands are fluttering uselessly, trying to fix something that is not physically fixable.

Daniel's upset.

Seth frowns worriedly. No, that's no good, Daniel shouldn't be upset. Seth can barely focus at the moment, but he can clearly see that Daniel is sad, that he's scared, and Seth wants to fix it but he doesn't know how.

"You're bleeding..." he observes, and as he talks he can taste something metallic. Perhaps that's why Daniel's scared, because he's hurt, because he's in pain. Seth should get out the morphine again, given him some more so they can rest before they go on, make sure the bleeding stops.

He shifts, trying to sit up, but his body won't work properly. "I can't move my legs," he adds in mild surprise. There's something on his legs, that must be why. All the rocks and everything.

"I'm okay," he lies. "Just - just don't try to move. Please. You'll be okay, just -"

Seth sounds distant, distracted even. He's in shock or, or he's numb or something, Daniel just can't figure out what. And he's a horrible, horrible liar and Seth can't be moving right now, he can't feel his legs and that's bad, that's really bad. It means something bad, Daniel just can't remember what it is. The only equipment they have on them is morphine and that's not enough, that's not even remotely enough, even with Seth's healing power -

Daniel screws his eyes shut very tightly. He is an idiot.

And then he starts talking extremely quickly, frantically, searching out Seth's hand again and gripping it tight with his own.

"Seth, I've still got your healing power." There's no way of knowing if it'll do any good. Daniel had suffered piercing trauma to his thoracic region - bad but not untreatable, not immediately fatal, whereas Seth is - "I'm gonna give it back to you. Okay? You have to take it back. Just try, please. You're gonna be fine, you just - you just have to take it back."

He tightens his grip on Seth's hand. He has no idea if he's telling the truth at this point.

"It'll be okay."

Edited 2014-10-08 05:09 (UTC)

Seth tries to focus properly on Daniel's words. No, no, he can't take back that power, Daniel needs it. He's got a hole in his stomach, for God's sake!

Slowly, very slowly, dots start to connect in Seth's mind. If Daniel's making him take back the power, then things must be bad for Seth. And... And if he can't move his legs... He's pretty sure his healing power can't fix that. It can't repair something that wouldn't fix on its own, it just speeds up the process. Something that won't fix on its own...

It won't be okay, he realises suddenly, and his throat closes up for a moment, and he has to swallow hard.

What good is a healing power for him now? What good is a phasing power, for that matter? But if Daniel can get out, he could use the power. He needs all the help he can get, really. Better than it dies with Seth.

He takes a shuddering breath and...

This time it's full-blown agonising torture that rips through him. His power dealing mostly tends to just amplify what he's already feeling, and what he's feeling right now is bad, but he's blinded by the light and he can feel the power leaving him, stabbing needles in his hand, so it's working. His entire body - or at least what he can still move of it - is all tensed up, his neck arching back as he grits his teeth.

And then it's over and he slumps, numb and exhausted.

Daniel breathes a little in relief when Seth's hand begins to glow in his, but the sensation isn't the same as before, it's not like the pulling at all, it's like something is pouring in instead, it's -

"Seth, what are you -" is all he gets out before the brightness dims and Seth falls back, and Daniel can only stare at his hands as they flicker, barely, into something intangible and not-there and halfway visible and it's like he's Ascended all over again, and it hits him that Seth didn't take back his healing power at all.

"You bastard," he swears desperately, reaching out with a hand that passes right through his friend; he has to focus before he can touch solid flesh and blood again. "Why'd you - just -"

He grasps Seth's hand again, uselessly, willing him to take it back and move and breathe and do something but he isn't moving, he's just lying there, and he probably just used the last of his strength to give Daniel a power that won't do either of them any good.

"Oh god, Seth, I'm sorry." He holds onto the hand, only distantly aware of how much everything hurts, physically and otherwise. The place is still shaking, but it might be a matter of skewed perspective because Daniel is shaking, and Seth is eerily still.

tw: death

powerdealer - 2014-10-08 06:31 (UTC) - Expand

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peacefulexplorer - 2014-10-08 06:45 (UTC) - Expand

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Encampment Under the Sea [Open to All]

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tw: physical trauma ahoy

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tw: death

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