by Prometheus
Danny Hearn nodded, beginning to climb back down into the pit.
"Pete," he yelled over his shoulder, "keep watch over our sleeping beauty. Tobias, watch his back... you never know what could resurface."
Tobias Christopher frowned. "Who died and made you the fucking leader, Animal Man?!" T.C. barked accordingly.
Danny had already disappeared under the surface, Naecken turning toward the speedster. "Now isss not the time for your attitude, Tobiasss," Naecken spoke through clenched teeth, his words humming with an ominous hiss. "We are counting on you."
T.C. said nothing, merely giving Naecken the finger. He resentfully accepted his responsibility, Pete Glover laying a friendly hand on his shoulder.
"Eh, don't you be worryin' over things, T.C.," Pete said, "I've gots yer back."
Tobias just rolled his eyes. "Wonderful," he breathed, not that he meant it. Of all the members of this improbable team, Tobias and Pete seemed to have a natural bond, an understanding forged from similar backgrounds, similiar suffering, and completely polar-opposite behaviors.
Danny was already splattered with a thick, clay-rimmed mud. High-pitched bounces of sound constantly firing and receiving from his auditory centers painted an odd, black-and-white image of the tunnel that stretched into the inky darkness.
Behind him, Naecken's own eyes had compensated with alchemical precision, droplets of mud staining his brand-new uniform. His expression continued to wince and strain, as the headache rattled his senses.
Bringing up the rear, Turkish Stringfellow kept pace, hands folded behind him. Oddly enough, he had asked the earth to leave him be; therefore, no mud or dirt of any kind seemed to be clinging to his flowing robes. He left no footprints, his bare feet -- also completely free of stains -- rolling along the slippery surface of the tunnel with absolute ease. His eyes remained closed, as if he didn't need them at all.
"It grows worse." He spoke plainly, his voice bouncing around the constantly changing diameter of the tunnel.
"Yeah," Danny replied, "more mud."
"I was referring to Naecken."
Danny cocked his head, with no reason to actually have to turn and look. "Naecken? You okay?" he asked behind him, listening for the man's breathing.
"I am... fine..." Naecken replied. But Turkish was right. The headaches. They were growing in intensity.
"Perhaps it is time for someone else to join us," Turkish said to the neo-mage.
Naecken turned his head toward the man, the only one of the group actually using his eyes. "Perhapsss," he said.
And, suddenly, if anyone could have seen it, Naecken's eye color... faded. Only briefly, and then, returned its normal intensity. He paused, observing his surroundings, then turned toward Turkish with a smile.
"Ah..." a smoother voice came, "...Stringfellow. So you decided to join us for this little jaunt, eh?"
Turkish, eyes still closed, slightly bowed with his normally casual air of respect. "Curiosity will be my death, I fear," Turkish replied. "It is pleasant to speak with you again. I was never given the chance to thank you for the carrot juice."
"Excellent," Naecken said, smiling. "My pleasure."
"What's going on here guys?" Danny asked, having stopped and listened to this entire exchange. "Naecken, what happened to your voice?"
"Nothing, Daniel," Naecken replied. "Nothing at all. Shall I lead the way?"
Danny said nothing, allowing the man to pass him, to take position in front. Danny paused, cocking his head again. "Turkish?"
"Yes?"
Danny stopped, shaking his head a bit. "Sorry... thought I lost your 'signal' for a second," he replied, his sonar readjusting to where he thought the man was positioned. "It was almost like..."
"I wasn't even here?" Turkish asked.
"Yeah... exactly," Danny said, an air of confusion lining the words.
"I stopped to ask for directions. We can save time by using the tunnel beneath us."
Danny opened his mouth to ask questions. But he was becoming used to Turkish's vague behaiviour, and simply let it slide. "Okay... well... I can use my claws to--" He suddenly stopped, arching his head toward where the man should be. "Wait. Silly me. Let me guess. You have an easier way, right?"
"How did you know?" Turkish asked, a bit impressed by the intuitive nature of the man.
Danny just nodded, rolling his eyes for no one to see. "I think I'm starting to get used to you, man," he replied with a sigh. "Whatcha got?"
Turkish pointed to the lower half of the muddy enclosure, waving it aside with a gesture. The tunnel immediately split open a fissure of more than ten feet across.
"Shall we?" Stringfellow asked, gesturing -- as if Danny could make it out -- toward the opening.
"Well, hell," Danny sighed. "What with Naecken switching accents for no apparent reasons... giant, axe-wielding bikers from hell falling from the sky... and enormous, slimy, tentacled monsters trying to eat us... why the hell NOT jump down a twenty-foot hole created by a six-foot-seven, bald, monasteric refugee?"
And with that sarcastic reply, he began sliding into the fissure, deeper into the earth.