[ Instead of a sharp intake, it's a sharp exhale that leaves Mace this time. Wry, because maybe you can ask Mary directly. And, you know. Point. Her mannerisms hadn't been anything less than an indication of hostility, and if she hadn't succeeded in attacking, that didn't mean the intent hadn't been there. Or the desire. Or maybe just a mindless, reanimated corpse.
He chews his lip for a moment as Ian finishes speaking, and then: ]
You pressed it on the way in.
[ The button. The — whatever Ian'd gotten his hand on that had sent the wall sliding open. Mace follows the gaze Ian throws over his shoulder, into the distance behind them that's now gotten dark, and then shakes his head. ]
But I didn't see anything after it closed. Stared at it for a while, so unless it's hidden, I think that was a fairly logical assumption.
[ They could go check it out while they have the chance, though. But first, he wants to make sure after the bend's clear for them to turn into, and he holds up a finger in the air and then to his mouth, before jabbing a thumb behind him. His hand slides into his pocket as he takes a step backward and then another, turning around to face the bend in the hall.
Gets a good grip around the knife hilt as dips his head forward and then around the bend. Keeps the torch held right in front of him, at his waist, and much as he doesn't want to, prepares himself to unhook his elbow from's Ian if need be.
Need not be, apparently. Nothing but another empty stretch of stone tunnel ahead, which seems to go on for longer this time. Enough so that he can't spot any bends up ahead anytime soon, and Mace is just about to give Ian the all-clear when he hears it, and freezes.
Thin, tinkling sounds. Old. Like a music box, or ...
It fades away before he can concentrate on it enough to understand what he's hearing, what he thinks he's hearing, and when he turns back to Ian, it's with a strange, blank expression. ]
no subject
He chews his lip for a moment as Ian finishes speaking, and then: ]
You pressed it on the way in.
[ The button. The — whatever Ian'd gotten his hand on that had sent the wall sliding open. Mace follows the gaze Ian throws over his shoulder, into the distance behind them that's now gotten dark, and then shakes his head. ]
But I didn't see anything after it closed. Stared at it for a while, so unless it's hidden, I think that was a fairly logical assumption.
[ They could go check it out while they have the chance, though. But first, he wants to make sure after the bend's clear for them to turn into, and he holds up a finger in the air and then to his mouth, before jabbing a thumb behind him. His hand slides into his pocket as he takes a step backward and then another, turning around to face the bend in the hall.
Gets a good grip around the knife hilt as dips his head forward and then around the bend. Keeps the torch held right in front of him, at his waist, and much as he doesn't want to, prepares himself to unhook his elbow from's Ian if need be.
Need not be, apparently. Nothing but another empty stretch of stone tunnel ahead, which seems to go on for longer this time. Enough so that he can't spot any bends up ahead anytime soon, and Mace is just about to give Ian the all-clear when he hears it, and freezes.
Thin, tinkling sounds. Old. Like a music box, or ...
It fades away before he can concentrate on it enough to understand what he's hearing, what he thinks he's hearing, and when he turns back to Ian, it's with a strange, blank expression. ]
Did you hear that?