I am glad you liked the detour to the Batfamily and their impending trip to the ballet :) We are back with our regularly scheduled programming today! The prompt is inferred rather than explicit: we may have a found a very real stumbling block for Adams here.
Stumbling block This was also a storage room; there were free-standing metal shelves with three levels laid out in neat rows across the room, with corridors down each side and the middle. Many of the shelves were empty and dusty though a few on the left-hand side still had brown cardboard boxes, labelled with a black marker pen, stacked in twos and threes on them. A wheeled dolly was propped near the door, leaning at a sharp angle against the wall, and thin lines in the dust suggested that it had been used recently. Footprints sometimes stayed between the lines and sometimes strayed over them as though the person pushing the dolly was struggling, or perhaps drunk. The tracks led to the back of the room where the concrete wall had been broken open: a large hole, whose ragged edges had the reinforcing strands of steel bent and protruding, provided access into a low, narrow tunnel that ran for maybe eight metres before reaching a hole in a brick wall that looked as though it had been much easier to make. A makeshift ramp on this side was clearly how the dolly had got into the tunnel, and from here they couldn’t see what was on the other side. The squeaking of the bats, and a faint smell of ammonia, was coming from the tunnel. “Strange they didn’t sweep up in here,” said Collins, scuffing the floor. The dust was grey and thick, and mounded into a fluffy pile. “Lazy,” said Adams, her eyes watching the tunnel carefully. The Inspectral frowned, though she didn’t see it. “Actually,” he said, and the silence that came after the word was so surprising that none of them broke it. Twenty seconds later his frown deepened. “Actually, that might be a worry,” he said. “Ethel—” “Right on it,” said the Ritual Examiner, and for the first time in the short time Collins had known him Ethel sounded worried. He left them, squeezing back out of the door they’d come through. “He might need help,” said Adams, looking where Ethel had gone, but then her head twisted back and her gaze fixed itself again on the tunnel. “Splitting up migh—” “Ethel can look after himself,” said the Inspectral. “And you know nothing about ritual magic so you would be a hindrance, not a help.” Collins stared at the floor, wondering what the Inspectral and Ethel knew that wasn’t being said. Clearly there was something about the corridor being clean that had some ritual significance… his mind replayed what had been said, paying more attention now instead of being secretly pleased that Adams had been wrong. Ethel had noted that the corridor had been… pristinely clean. Which, when Collins thought about it was odd. If you just wanted to hide footprints, you only really needed to sweep them away. “Geographically, that should be underneath the Crisis centre, through there,” said the Inspectral. “But we’ll have to go in and check to be sure, of course. Single file, please, in silence, same order as before. We stop if there are signs of life, movement, or even light. I do not know what they are doing but I am certain it involves the Device and I do not want to risk that being set off.” Adams didn’t move. “Adams, please lead the way,” said the Inspectral. Collins found himself surprised that the temperature around him hadn’t dropped this time. He looked over at his colleague and saw that she was sweating. “We haven’t got very much time,” said the Inspectral. Slowly, trembling slightly, Adams walked up the ramp into the squeaking darkness.
Greg - oof, you've got me feeling for Adams with this one, perhaps for the first time. Not that I fully disliked her before, I just had no cause to feel sympathy.
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I am glad you liked the detour to the Batfamily and their impending trip to the ballet :) We are back with our regularly scheduled programming today! The prompt is inferred rather than explicit: we may have a found a very real stumbling block for Adams here.
Stumbling block
This was also a storage room; there were free-standing metal shelves with three levels laid out in neat rows across the room, with corridors down each side and the middle. Many of the shelves were empty and dusty though a few on the left-hand side still had brown cardboard boxes, labelled with a black marker pen, stacked in twos and threes on them. A wheeled dolly was propped near the door, leaning at a sharp angle against the wall, and thin lines in the dust suggested that it had been used recently. Footprints sometimes stayed between the lines and sometimes strayed over them as though the person pushing the dolly was struggling, or perhaps drunk. The tracks led to the back of the room where the concrete wall had been broken open: a large hole, whose ragged edges had the reinforcing strands of steel bent and protruding, provided access into a low, narrow tunnel that ran for maybe eight metres before reaching a hole in a brick wall that looked as though it had been much easier to make. A makeshift ramp on this side was clearly how the dolly had got into the tunnel, and from here they couldn’t see what was on the other side.
The squeaking of the bats, and a faint smell of ammonia, was coming from the tunnel.
“Strange they didn’t sweep up in here,” said Collins, scuffing the floor. The dust was grey and thick, and mounded into a fluffy pile.
“Lazy,” said Adams, her eyes watching the tunnel carefully. The Inspectral frowned, though she didn’t see it.
“Actually,” he said, and the silence that came after the word was so surprising that none of them broke it. Twenty seconds later his frown deepened. “Actually, that might be a worry,” he said. “Ethel—”
“Right on it,” said the Ritual Examiner, and for the first time in the short time Collins had known him Ethel sounded worried. He left them, squeezing back out of the door they’d come through.
“He might need help,” said Adams, looking where Ethel had gone, but then her head twisted back and her gaze fixed itself again on the tunnel. “Splitting up migh—”
“Ethel can look after himself,” said the Inspectral. “And you know nothing about ritual magic so you would be a hindrance, not a help.”
Collins stared at the floor, wondering what the Inspectral and Ethel knew that wasn’t being said. Clearly there was something about the corridor being clean that had some ritual significance… his mind replayed what had been said, paying more attention now instead of being secretly pleased that Adams had been wrong. Ethel had noted that the corridor had been… pristinely clean. Which, when Collins thought about it was odd. If you just wanted to hide footprints, you only really needed to sweep them away.
“Geographically, that should be underneath the Crisis centre, through there,” said the Inspectral. “But we’ll have to go in and check to be sure, of course. Single file, please, in silence, same order as before. We stop if there are signs of life, movement, or even light. I do not know what they are doing but I am certain it involves the Device and I do not want to risk that being set off.”
Adams didn’t move.
“Adams, please lead the way,” said the Inspectral. Collins found himself surprised that the temperature around him hadn’t dropped this time. He looked over at his colleague and saw that she was sweating. “We haven’t got very much time,” said the Inspectral.
Slowly, trembling slightly, Adams walked up the ramp into the squeaking darkness.
Greg - oof, you've got me feeling for Adams with this one, perhaps for the first time. Not that I fully disliked her before, I just had no cause to feel sympathy.
But this... ugh. Good luck, to all involved.
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