[ True. Although, if it's in Ian's voice, there's no telling what'll trip Mace into an orgasm at this point.
He listens intently to everything Ian's saying, the careful nod, the caution in his voice, in the way he shrugs. The message is clear and Mace honestly appreciates it, that Ian's giving him the pure facts insofar as he knows them. It's the opposite of a downer; if anything, it gives Mace more of a confidence boost, since now they (i.e. Ian) will know what they're looking at.
Whenever they come to it, of course. ]
Hey, I didn't study geology at all. Far as I'm concerned, you're the expert.
[ They start up again down the slowly winding path, and by now there's been a sizeable amount of time since they'd passed that poor son of a bitch, mashed into the floor like an insect. But although Mace's bravado has made a mostly-triumphant come-back, he hasn't relaxed at all. Still focused, just more at peace thanks to Ian, more motivated and less weighed down.
There was something about seeing death in such a way that brought the point home, and Mace knows it must still be on Ian's mind too. Mary’s corpse in the cave, that had been long-gone, grey and mottled. Didn’t seem real. The doctors back at the cabin, they’d clearly been something worse, mutated to a point where Mace’s brain didn’t even recognize them as human.
But the person who’d been crushed in the other tunnel, the blood still thin and red as it dripped from his shattered skull —
Enough to remind a man of his mortality. More than enough to remind him of the mortality of the ones he ...
Mace's hand tightens briefly, reflexively, on Ian's and he halts them again. There's another fork up ahead, except it's vertical this time. The ceiling's lowered enough so that it's just above their heads, and by the light of the torch, Mace can see where the tunnel breaks off steeply, one part of it descending and the other winding up, almost like a staircase.
Thank god, Ian had already made rope. Mace wets his lips and steps close enough to the edge, so that he can reach out with the mirror, and ... ]
Asshole demon cave with a basement. [ Not quite; more like an enclave, from what he can see. Like a stone clearing. He turns around, lower lip pulled between his teeth as he thinks of asking Ian if he'll let Mace check the area out on his own. Fuck, he doesn't want to put Ian in any more danger.
no subject
He listens intently to everything Ian's saying, the careful nod, the caution in his voice, in the way he shrugs. The message is clear and Mace honestly appreciates it, that Ian's giving him the pure facts insofar as he knows them. It's the opposite of a downer; if anything, it gives Mace more of a confidence boost, since now they (i.e. Ian) will know what they're looking at.
Whenever they come to it, of course. ]
Hey, I didn't study geology at all. Far as I'm concerned, you're the expert.
[ They start up again down the slowly winding path, and by now there's been a sizeable amount of time since they'd passed that poor son of a bitch, mashed into the floor like an insect. But although Mace's bravado has made a mostly-triumphant come-back, he hasn't relaxed at all. Still focused, just more at peace thanks to Ian, more motivated and less weighed down.
There was something about seeing death in such a way that brought the point home, and Mace knows it must still be on Ian's mind too. Mary’s corpse in the cave, that had been long-gone, grey and mottled. Didn’t seem real. The doctors back at the cabin, they’d clearly been something worse, mutated to a point where Mace’s brain didn’t even recognize them as human.
But the person who’d been crushed in the other tunnel, the blood still thin and red as it dripped from his shattered skull —
Enough to remind a man of his mortality. More than enough to remind him of the mortality of the ones he ...
Mace's hand tightens briefly, reflexively, on Ian's and he halts them again. There's another fork up ahead, except it's vertical this time. The ceiling's lowered enough so that it's just above their heads, and by the light of the torch, Mace can see where the tunnel breaks off steeply, one part of it descending and the other winding up, almost like a staircase.
Thank god, Ian had already made rope. Mace wets his lips and steps close enough to the edge, so that he can reach out with the mirror, and ... ]
Asshole demon cave with a basement. [ Not quite; more like an enclave, from what he can see. Like a stone clearing. He turns around, lower lip pulled between his teeth as he thinks of asking Ian if he'll let Mace check the area out on his own. Fuck, he doesn't want to put Ian in any more danger.
But he already knows the answer to that. ]
Shall we?