[center][h1]Grime, slime, and... a Little Time[/h1]
[@Captain Jenno] - [@Baklava] - [@DearTrickser] Collaborino[/center]


“[color=FF5733]Anybody carrying water?[/color]”

From the safety of her little perch the skullkid had watched Archer lose his temper over his pants on the skeleton, she shook her head but kept her eyes on the skeleton. The funny thing about the undead is they had a [i]terrible[/i] habit of standing back up when your back was turned. Though without a head or spine... Well it was debatable. Now the remaining skeleton was in pieces, little flames still hopping across the bones clinging desperately. She squinted at what was left of the fire and decided that the first chuchu did a great job at smothering the skeleton, the second time would surely just be for [i]safety's sake[/i]. It also occurred to Jillian that Archer needed something to take his mind off his pants woe, hit two birds with one stone.

While Archer was examining his pants Jillian took the opportunity to summon one last chuchu. Similarly to the first green chuchu it appeared out of the dark purple summoning portal beside where Felicia had slipped. It chittered at Archer, with unnatural flexibility it stared up at Jillian. "[color=salmon]Well go on then, smother the fire.[/color]"

The chuchu hopped forward, it's gibberish sounded like excitement to the skullkid. It loomed over the remains of the skeleton then belly flopped on top of the pile of smouldering bones. A fresh wave of green slime splashed in all directions effectively removing the fire. Archer however, would not be spared the same treatment as the fire.

Archer was bereft of the energy to kick up a fuss about it, however. He felt heavy, as though he were wearing weights about the shoulders and ankles. Anger made his blood feel hotter, and an inability to adequately express it - no faces to pulverise, no bruises to sober him- made it feel thick, and sluggish. As though every vessel was squeezed at an angle, and the flow was choked. Only coming through when enough force pushed it. He made a mental note to yell about this later, however, because this was his favourite jacket, too. And he didn't doubt he'd feel chuchu jelly 'neath his nails and follicles for weeks to come, if he ever left this temple at all.
Archer exhaled again, but the breath rattled. Adrenaline laced and wasted. He leaned forwards to tear at the lengths of his jeans that stretched down beneath the knee, until he was wearing (and the thought sickened him): [i]jorts[/i].
He raised a heavy hand, and addressed Jillian with a pointed finger, "[color=FF5733]You're lucky I... ah, forget it.[/color]"

Out of breath, Felicia managed to pull herself up from the chu jelly puddle using the bars of the jail cell. She grimaced as she moved, reassured her hip and elbow were going to be several different shades of purple by the time she got a chance to change clothes. Fixing her hat, she watched as Archer ripped the ruined portion of his pants. She opened her mouth to suggest she might be able to salvage them, but hesitated for far too long. Oh well. He probably wouldn't trust some random woman he barely knew with patching up his clothes anyway.

She clutched the sword to her chest with both hands as she focused on trying to calm down instead. Her heart was still beating wildly and, though it was now silent, she feared something might jump out at them at any second. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before scratching her shoulder and turning to face Jillian. No. Panicking now wouldn't do her any good. 

"[color=6a9375]U-uh,[/color]" she swallowed hard and wiped some chu jelly from her cheek with a clean portion of her hand, "[color=6a9375]Th-the chu jelly was a good idea actually. I-it should clean out of clothes. Doesn't stain too bad....[/color]" She glanced at Archer reassuringly before looking back to Jillian with an attempted smile, "[color=6a9375]Are-- are you okay?[/color]"

Archer was tired and burnt, red skin showing beneath tattered pant-legs. A few bruises of his own, too, albeit self inflicted. His eyes were heavy and glassed as he came down from the adrenaline. When Felicia threw him a glance, he offered only an unenthusiastic thumbs up. Less of a [i]'good job, team!'[/i] and more of a [i]'that sure happened, and now I need a drink.'[/i]

Jillian drummed her fingers across the bars, then nodded at Felicia, "[color=salmon]I'm okay.[/color]"

Tentatively she climbed down from the bars, removing her mask and holding it to her chest she began rather uncharacteristically bashful, "[color=salmon]Thanks for fighting the skeletons I guess. If you guys hadn't I would've been toast, so... thanks.[/color]" Staring at her shoes she kicked at a bone. "[color=salmon]I've come back from nasty stuff before but I've never seen a skullkid bounce back from being a pile of ash.[/color]"

Feeling she said her piece, she replaced the mask, "[color=salmon]Those wallmasters huh?[/color]" She dug out her book again flipping knowingly to a page about them. "[color=salmon]My book basically calls 'em useless to summon if you don't have a place to put whoever you're tryin' to catch. Otherwise they just take whoever and plops them wherever they want. Stupid things.[/color]"

She held up her book for them to see. A crudely inked picture of a wallmaster on one page and notes in hylian on the other. "[color=salmon]We're still in the temple, [i]obviously[/i] but we need to get outta here.[/color]"

Archer squinted at the page, sceptical of its contents, and mouthed the words under his breath. Slowly. [i]Very[/i] slowly.
"[color=FF5733]Yeah, it sure does... say that...[/color]" he muttered, noncommittally, a different sort of red in the face. He put his hands into his pockets awkwardly, and then looked away, out through the bars of their cell.

"[color=FF5733]You're right, though. Even I'm not cocky enough to think I can melt the bars, though,"[/color] he said, half-truthfully. He wasn't cocky enough to think he could do it right [i]now,[/i] because he was physically and magically [i]spent[/i] for this moment. But with a little rest, he was certain this level of arrogance, too, could be achieved.

"[color=FF5733]You think you could somehow slink through 'em? Mayb--[/color]", dawning realisation.
"[color=FF5733]Wait. If [i]you're[/i] here, and [i]I'm[/i] here... who's annoyin' my [i]brother?![/i][/color]"

"[color=salmon]Lethe I guess, I saw 'em make it across the bridge before I got snatched.[/color]" Jillian shrugged. "[color=salmon]Did you guys find the keystone yet?[/color]" 

"[color=salmon]We got attacked by keese, boulderbrains Hogswash rolled off, we figured out some stupid puzzles, mostly me, some weird mirrory scythes showed some spooky and [i]hilarious[/i] reflections. Then Zephyrus poked himself with an arrow and so did Naviela. Then the wallmasters showed up and [i]that[/i] was pretty scary.[/color]" Jillian carried on in her nearly useless explanations, talking without much of a pause. When she did pause she looked between Archer and Felicia. "[color=salmon]We didn't find the keystone though.[/color]"

"[color=FF5733]We made it through literally one corridor before that hooded asshole started bein' all... hooded. And an asshole. I'm not sure how this is his fault, but it is and that's the hill I'm willin' to die on,[/color]" Archer scratched his cheek, a thoughtless little gesture, "[color=FF5733]Also there was a Poe, I guess. Not our one, though.[/color]"

Felicia listened quietly until it seemed appropriate for her to speak up. "[color=6a9375]We didn't find the keystone, either,[/color]" she said simply. She ran her thumbs over the ornate pommel of her sword, thinking on Jillian's book and remembering how she'd summoned the ChuChus But what sort of monster could safely break the bars without potentially injuring someone? She slid her sword back into the scabbard at her hip as she turned to look outside the cell. 

A single torch and a long hallway, leading off into pitch black darkness. 

"[color=6a9375]Maybe there are some keys somewhere,[/color]" she suggested, the end of her sentence tapering off into a whisper. What a stupid suggestion-- of course there were keys. There was a lock. There were keys. But where? "[color=6a9375]If-- if we could see further down that hallway...[/color]"

"[color=FF5733]Did you say that book can summon monsters? What're the odds you can just, have one'a those handsy freaks drop us off on the other side of the bars?[/color]" Archer asked, not quite grasping the extent to which Jillian was able to work her metaphorical mojo. Magic to him had always been very straight forwards. Get mad; break stuff.

Jillian scratched at some hair under her hat, "[color=salmon]Are you deaf or somethin'? I just said they're useless, they'll just stick us right back into this cell. We'd have better luck trying to make a lockpick-! OH! I can do that! I can make a lockpick.[/color]" She said slamming the book shut and diving her hands in deep to the slime to pull some bones free. Shaking the boney fingers free of slime she said, "[color=salmon]Bones make great toothpicks too.[/color]"

[i]Toothpicks?[/i] Felicia didn't want to ask how Jillian knew that. She stepped aside and waited, quietly hoping Jillian's idea would work. 

"[color=FF5733]I thought you said they were useless if you didn't have anywhere to dump what they catch. We have somewhere - outside of the cell. Why can't one you summon just... ah, screw it, just. Pick the lock. 'More I try to understand magic, the more I start to understand why Zeph is as boring as he is. Too much maths.[/color]"

Jillian pulled apart the knuckles on the skeleton's hand separating the fingers. "[color=salmon]Anyone wanna lend me a knife or something? I need to whittle this down a bit.[/color]"

"[color=6a9375]I have a line cutter...[/color]" Felicia said hesitantly, snapping open her small tackle box for the second time that day. It was a very small pocket knife, but should she really be giving it to a child? Er... someone that seemed so childlike? She held it out to Jillian half heartedly-- a worried frown creasing her features. 

Jillian hardly glanced at Felicia, spinning the knife in her hand then setting to work on the bone. "[color=salmon]Bone is weird, the drier it is in the more brittle it gets. The opposite of wood ya'know...[/color]" Jillian paused finishing shaving down past a knuckle then shot Felicia a look seeing her worry, "[color=salmon]Who d'you think made those puppets? I've been makin' puppets and other stuff for over a hundred years. I'm really good at it. Makin' a lockpick is nothin'.[/color]"

Jillian turned back to the boney fingers, deftly gliding the small knife with her thumb. Flicking the excess shavings of bone as they curled. She whittled it down to a thick but fine point, then went to work on another finger, expertly following the natural curve of the bone to create a small hook. When she was done she held them up, smoothed down and ready to be used.

"[color=salmon]I'm no good with locks, I usually break somethin' before trying to pick somethin' open.[/color]"

Archer cleared his throat, and raised his hand: "[color=FF5733]Not to implicate myself in anythin', being an honest, upstanding citizen and all, but if you've got the pick, I've got the dexterity. Zeph doesn't let me carry lockpicks [i]on[/i] me, but bein' a...[/color]", he coughed, "[color=FF5733]Magician has made me pretty nimble. Picked my first lock with another kid's hairclip when I was still real small.[/color]"

Jillian stared at him, "[color=salmon]Yeah yeah, if you're askin' me to make you lockpicks on the regular then whatever. Get us outta here and I'll make you 'em.[/color]" She grabbed his hands then put the lockpicks into his sticky digits. She passed the knife back to Felicia, handle first. "[color=salmon]Thanks, you good at fishing or something with carrying around a tacklebox?[/color]"

Still pondering the implications of Archer's 'dexterity', Felicia was surprised by Jillian's question. "[color=6a9375]Uh. You could say that I guess,[/color]" she half shrugged, returning the knife to her tacklebox, "[color=6a9375]It puts food on the table anyway....[/color]" Her eyes followed Archer as he set to work. 

"[color=salmon]Can I look through your box?[/color]" She asked, her curiosity taking precedent.

Felicia turned her attention back to the undead child, pausing before she snapped the latch shut. Her box? She hesitated, running through the contents of the tackle box in her mind as she tried to assess what might happen if she handed it over to the childlike creature. Several lures, three old bobbers, some sinkers, some plastic worms, needle nose pliers, extra line, and a small matchbox filled with extra hooks. Then, of course, there was the first aid kit and knife. And a small jar of homemade sunscreen. Perhaps it would be fine. She [i]had[/i] just handed Jillian her knife, hadn't she? 

"[color=6a9375]M-mind the hooks,[/color]" she muttered, holding out the box, "[color=6a9375]They're sharp.[/color]"

Archer was already at work and a few tumblers deep, tinkering with mechanisms he couldn't even see. At one point this had been second-nature to him, when he'd been out on the streets, competing for his evening meal against performers whose pockets jangled when they walked. What was a couple incidents of lighthearted burglary between rivals?
Now, however, he found himself straining to raise each new weight. These older locks employed heavier levers, kept in place by rust and grime. His lock picking set, discarded now but once a valued tool of his trade, had been shaped from the shredded parts of an old saw. In a lock like this, the picks would easily have broken - but the bone, gross as it was, was at least not [i]too[/i] brittle. 

Archer thought to ask for quiet, but he knew that in old mechanisms such as these it was just as much luck as it was focus. Instead he narrowed his eyes, and stuck his tongue out to the side, concentrating - a rarity in his otherwise reckless lifestyle. Employing some semblance of the discipline Zephyrus had wished to instill in him, albeit in a less than desirable way, by his standards. 
"[color=FF5733]Almost got it, I think. Just... a couple more...[/color]"

Jillian perked at Felicia's permission, surprised that she'd let her poke through her stuff. Slowly reaching out to the box keeping her eyes locked on the Hylian, in one quick movement and jangle of the box's contents Jillian had grabbed it quickly stepping out of reach. Giggling at Felicia's expression.

She sat down, similarly to Archer her tongue poked out when she lifted the lid rifling through all it's contents. In one hand she held up a lure and in the other a hook, catching the light then setting them outside the box. LIfting up the separator to reveal the bottom, and more to inspect. Quickly amassing a pile of everything that she found. Holding up the matchbox full of hooks shaking them as if she needed a clue as to what was inside. She emptied the matchbox of hooks onto the pile. Moving onto the sunscreen she took a long whiff of the jar, pressing a gob of it between her fingers - it was pretty thick. Recognizing the knife she put it onto the pile, carefully teetering it until it balanced. With the tackle box emptied of it's contents she lifted it upside down shaking it around, not finding any secrets as her hand patted along the sides. All the while she rattled off questions about everything she found, not really pausing to hear the answers. What sort of fish did Felicia expect to catch? Wouldn't the fish be the food on the table? Why did some of the worms look shiny while the bobbers were dull? 

"[color=salmon]You got a lotta junk in here,[/color]" Holding up the tackle box again for Felicia to take it. Pausing she laughed, "[color=salmon]Oh right, should probably put the stuff back huh.[/color]" Scooping up the pile and moving the separator out of the way, in a few handfuls she carelessly dumped everything back into the bottom of it. The line tangled, hooks and lures tossed together and the only item to placed carefully was the jar of sunscreen on top. When she was done, she could barely close the lid with how things were piled back into it. Her hands were marked and sliced from the hooks, visibly moss already grew out of the cuts filling the new space.

"[color=salmon]Oops.[/color]" Opening and closing her hands slowly watching the moss grow over.

Felicia got the distinct feeling she'd made a terrible mistake as soon as Jillian stepped out of reach. Her intuition proved correct as she watched in silent horror as the skullkid unceremoniously dissected her tackle box. Almost robotically, Felicia took the empty box and stared as Jillian scooped up her belongings and dumped them back inside-- paying absolutely no mind to the hooks. 

It being her only request, Felicia found this detail even more worrisome than the state of her tackle box. She watched the moss cuts on the girl's fingers, brows furrowed. There was an old sort of flame here-- angry frustration. Something familiar. More like a spark-- a memory. Why didn't she listen? Why didn't she [i]ever listen?[/i]

Dejected, Felicia sighed, leaving the skullchild without any sort of reprimand as she did her best to prod the mess of fishing equipment into submission-- finally settling on leaving the jar of sunscreen in her pocket so she could close it. The tangled line and everything else could be dealt with later. It wasn't like she would be doing any fishing anytime soon anyway. 

[i]Click![/i]

"[color=FF5733]Hah! Not gonna lie, that was... fifty percent guesswork.[/color]"

And the other fifty percent was prayer.