hfm_logs | the darkness keeps growing, the shadows cutting deeper

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the darkness keeps growing, the shadows cutting deeper

Warnings: Darkness, Nox, darkness, manipulation, darkness, violence, and more darkness
Location: The sewers
Characters: Agent York, Aaron, Celestia, and a lot of Nox
When: Shortly after the attack on the city.
Summary: The Nox approach the hapless prisoners, and attempt to make them a deal

It's dark. This should come as no surprise to those who have a clear memory of what happened, but the sheer size and scope and depth of the darkness is suffocating. Pressurizing. There's a dripping in the distance and the Nox's guests will find themselves covered in...something that's rapidly congealing. Communicators don't work, and if listening close to the silence reveals they aren't alone...

Something's out there, watching the three warm bodies. Almost breathing on them.

((OOC: Check this log periodically for subheaders which will direct the plot!))

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"So you got away before?" that- that's good. That's something they can use once he has any kind of idea who they are and where they are. York flinches at the flare of light, flicking his good eye over- a kid and a pony.

Well.

It could be worse.

"How far down do you think we are?" Panic can come later. Like. After he's sure there isn't a way out.

"Oh, not here," she said, as casual and calm as if they were simply in a living room with the lights off, "but as ruler of Equestria I tend to be the first target for those wishing to conquer or destroy it. At least here, imprisoning me will not stop the sun from rising."

She settled herself gently on the floor, hooves folded. "We are, I suspect, deep enough that we will need to be rescued. Though I would be delighted to be wrong."

"Who are you?" That's directed at York. If this were literally any other time, perhaps his introduction wouldn't be so curt, threaded with fear, but--

nothing is convenient right now, it seems. "I've never been down this far before. Or down here. Period." It should come as no surprise that he's talking to fill up the silence and the darkness, unwilling-- or afraid-- to use his healing magic's glow to lighten the place up. "Our eyeglasses don't work down here." He's just tried. There's a new note of panic in his voice, and he abruptly stops talking to fiddle with the now-useless communicator.

"Yeah, no. If we were in a cell and there were soldiers we were up against instead of, I dunno, creepy little shadow things that you can't really reason with? I'd be in favor of waiting it out. But we aren't and they aren't so..." York pushes himself to his feet, squinting into the darkness. "If I knew how far down we were I could try porting us back up but I have a feeling that'd end badly."

And he's not about to test with anyone else on hand.

"Me? Agent York of York's Taxi and Delivery. Formerly of Project Freelancer. Currently trying not to lose my shit. Nice to meet you." He manages a half smile at the kid- shit, there's a kid stuck down here. "Okay. Magic works, comms don't, can't get any word out of here. We are covered in..."

Ugh.

He scrapes a hand down his hair, squinting at it. "Something."

"That's not very surprising."

Celestia had no scruples about using her magic -- she pushed energy into her horn to summon light around them, well aware that it might be their only protection against the Nox. She also spread her wings to full, already calculating ways to earn then an advantage in these terrible circumstances.

"I have no doubt help is on the way."

The light fills the space efficiently, even illuminating some of the Nox that are hovering close. They're crafty, though; not too close to merit any sort of resistance. Resistance likely isn't even possible, what with how Celestia is down here too and not making any attempts to fight!

Aaron makes to scoot out of the way with the spread of Celestia's wings, and gets brushed in the cheek by a remex anyways. "Yeah, but when's help going to get here? Do they know we're even down here? Agent," and a pause as he decides whether that's a name or a title, "York, you can teleport, Celestia has light magic, and I have healing magic which is pretty useless if nobody's hurt, so--"

They're both more experienced in this sort of thing, so why he's trying to make a plan, he doesn't know.

"What are we going to do?"

"Celestia, you got the light, you take point. Kid, you heal? You stick between us." Rule one, powerhouse in front. Rule two, cover your medic. "I bring up the rear. We pick a direction, we start moving. We hit a wall? We follow it. Maybe we get close enough to a vent or something that we can get word out."

Is it the best plan? No, no it's not. But it's what they got. Celestia can buy them space and light, if anything goes wrong? They got someone to patch them up. He...doesn't have a weapon but he can move them around if they need to get somewhere quick.

"Sound good?"

"I did hit my head during the initial assault," Celestia said, evenly and calm so as not to worry anyone. "I am likely nursing a concussion, so if you can heal that before we begin this adventure, I will be more reliable with my magic."

"Yeah, I can fix that." And it's really only a little too eagerly that he walks closer to Celestia, tries to shake off the black gunk congealing on his hands, and fires up his healing magic--

it comes so easily now, like flipping a switch and asking please.

Celestia will feel whatever pain fading away, a color of pink so light as to be white suffusing the space around her. It's not bright enough to outshine Celestia's light, but it does carry a warmth that hers is lacking.

"...well damn, that's convenient." York goggles a little at the glowing, at the pink- and wonders a little what it'd be like. If maybe the kid could fix his bum eye but-

Not now. Later. When they're up top and everything's fine again.

The kid works, Celestia keeps the light up, and York? Keeps an eye on the perimeter. What he wouldn't give for a pipe or something to swing.

Celestia visibly perked up, wings stretching out slightly as the pain and muzziness lifted off of her shoulders.

"That was very helpful. Thank you."

In defiance of the dark, she amplified her light, more confident now in wielding it with her head in the proper space again. Perhaps they might not need a rescue after all.

His magic fades away into nothing, swallowed up in the face of Celestia's brighter magic. He shuts it off-- sticks close to her flank.

"Is there anything else?" He rubs his hands hands together, sloughs off more of the gunk that plops in a gooey, gross mess onto the concrete floor-- which is just as coated in gunk as everything else.

"York? Are you injured anywhere when they-- grabbed you?"

"Me? Nah. Coupla bruises but nothing's broken. I'm lucky." How lucky is a little relative since he is down here with them- but maybe they needed him or something.

Fate hasn't ever been his forte or something he put a lot of thought to.

They're here, they're gonna get out, that's all that really matters.

"No one's swallowed this gunk stuff, right? I've seen alien stuff and this might be magic but it reminds me a lot of alien bullshit."

"That was the first thing I did. It looked so tasty."

Celestia was kidding, of course.

"I didn't swallow any of it."

He's not going to be all that useful as a contributing member of this conversation; he's too busy trying (failing) to glare down the darkness that lurks out of Celestia's protective glow.

"Yeah, now I buy that you get along with Wash." Sass. Such sass.

"Well it's not burning or hardening or glowing so we might not be getting poisoned slowly by the...whatever it is."

"It IS congealing, though. I would not be surprised if it comes to hamper our movements. I am not certain I can fly at the moment, for example." Not that she had anywhere to fly TO, but the point stood nonetheless.

"I've been with these things before." He's talking about the gunk. The Nox, specifically, although this gunk doesn't seem to have any sentience. "I don't think it does anything, but it may make you... angrier, I guess." Or was that the effects of the Deal? (Celestia knows. York doesn't. Aaron doesn't want him to know.

"I'm feel'n pretty gross but I wouldn't say I'm angry. Soon as we find somewhere relatively safe to stop, if there's even anywhere like that down here? Let's get as much off as we can- especially your wings. I could try teleporting blind but I'd rather not risk it with either of you. Me, I get stuck in something? I can get out." But with Celestia and Aaron? Not a comfortable idea.

Celestia, once again, felt the great loss of the bulk of her magic rather keenly. Simply teleporting the three of them out would have been so much simpler a solution than all of this.

"Well. I can certainly say I am not likely to have to worry about this substance meaningfully affecting my emotions," she said, wings quivering involuntarily.

"Oh. That's good." None of them seem to be negatively impacted by it at all past being dirty and grungy, and in particular it's matting down his hair and making sure that these clothes will be utterly unwearable ever again. It's weird. Being worried about clothes while trapped down here with a pony and and... someone else. Apparently, his life has just gotten that damn crazy that something as trivial as a favorite shirt is the only thing that makes any sense anymore.

"Should we...?" Try to go, unspoken in his throat.

"Only thing I'm feeling is gross. When we get out? I'm gonna need ten showers. And sandpaper." And a drink or five but- hey. Kid. Talking horse lady. Not about to talk about booze around them- it's not polite. "I'd say 'let's head north' but I have no idea which way north is right now. So...pick a direction and let's go till we find a ladder or something. There's gotta be a plaque or map or whatever that'll show us where we ware."

That was unwarranted optimism, but not one Celestia tried to dispel. "I do hope it isn't a ladder," she mused, more to keep everypony's spirits up than out of any real need to worry about climbing one.

"Oh." He's smiling at that, though it isn't all that strong or amused. "Oh dear. Maybe we can find stairs, or enough space for you to fly?"

Call it foolishness, but he's feeling decently safe; he can heal them if anything goes wrong, and Celestia wields light itself, and York seems more than capable.

"Long as there's space above the ladder I can see? I can port you up." It seems like a straight enough shot through the dark- but that can be said of anything where the light's not a black, skittering void. Ugh.

Makes him kinda miss Georgia. Poor Georgia.

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the darkness keeps growing, the shadows cutting deeper

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