tdr_backup | Feast or famine?

~When Wesley was at the Academy, he read every piece of writing he could get his hands on. It didn't matter if it was textbook, scrap of paper left on the floor, mass pulp- if it could be read, he read it. He was obsessed with reading. Still was, though here in Hell there's precious little material.

When Wesley was home on holiday, he read. He would sneak into his father's library and lose himself in whatever was to be found. He'd gotten into a spot of trouble that way more than once; several tomes in his father's collection are very dangerous and ill used by a well meaning child. Still, his father couldn't help but be a little pleased that his son was a voracious reader, and an excellent linguist. Wesley couldn't say how many languages, human and demon, he knows; he lost count years ago.

So it is that Wesley is more than accquainted with Dante's timeless work. He was, as a child, fascinated by his father's collection of classic literature, and the illustrations therein. Now, however, those same illustrations haunt him as he sees them come alive in the landscape around him, and the inhabitants try to trap him, shock him, eat him, and what else?

He and Snape cross through the fetid wastes of the carcass field, heading toward the far away cliffs. Wesley shows the other shades no mercy as he stabs skillfully with the demon weapon, injecting a deadly toxin into each shade he successfully stabs. He doesn't know what death will do the already dead, but he suspects it won't keep them down long, so he hurries Snape through until they at last are facing the sheer cliffs. But now that they're upon them, they realize the cliffs don't rise above the carcass plains as they appeared from a distance; they fall away from them in a sheer, dizzying drop.~ Of course, ~Wesley breathes, remembering the horrible scene in the masterwork. He turns to Snape, grim and determined.~

We have to go down.

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*Snape looks down, wondering how in Hades they're going to manage climbing down when he has an injured leg and Pryce has a mangled arm. Still, he can tell that it's the only way; no use moaning about it. Besides, the faster they're away from the gluttons, the better.*

Pity we don't have a good, strong length of intestine and something sturdy to tie it to. We could have a rope.

*Of course, he doesn't mention that they'd have to find some that would be strong enough to support them, long enough to reach the bottom, and enough time to utilize it before the native shades ate it.*

We'll simply have to make due with what we do have at hand. Let's head back to that nearest corpse and wrench free some fangs or claws- anything to use as a spike. We'll need to get rid of our spines, unfortunately.

*Snape sighs and follows Wesley, leaving him to decide on the most fitting corpse--after all, he's more familiar with demon anatomy than he is. He doesn't relish the thought of leaving his long spine behind; he was just getting used to handling it. Still, with the increasingly unpredictable movements of his arms and legs, perhaps it would be better to NOT carry around a poisonous spear.*

What do you suppose the next level is going to be like? I've read Dante, and while some of this is familiar, not everything seems to be going exactly like the book.

*Wes sets to work and seems to withdraw into himself, and doesn't answer Snape until they've extracted serviceable spikes to grip the cliffs.*

Level Four is the Greedy, and before that should be a great precipice. As to the state we'll find Level 4 in, I can't say. You're right, things seem to be a bit... different than the published work suggests. Still, I don't expect they'll be wanting to eat us. Maybe rob us blind...

They are NOT taking my cloak. Other than that, what do we have?

*Still, he grips the spikes firmly and his face is set in a determined way. Also, his leg has been healing despite the heavy use, and he feels more confident by the time they start back towards the edge.*

*Wesley says nothing, just sets his jaw and utters a grunt as he drives one of the teeth into the side of the cliff. He tests its strength, then mutters to Snape that he'll start down and let him know how much footing there is.* Have you ever been mountain climbing? *he asks breezily, as if trying to downplay the tension. But as Wes is lowering himself over the side of the cliff (exhibiting far more strength than he looks to possess), suddenly his hand appears to Snape to deliberately LET GO of the tooth, and Wesley plummets with a cry of surprise which turns to pain as he ricochets off the rocky cliff.

*Snape watches, lying flat on his chest while looking down, as Wesley casually asks about the mountain climbing. Snape thinks to himself how painfully obvious it is that Wesley hasn't ever tackled anything quite like this himself. When Wesley's hand seems to act of its own accord, Snape automatically reaches out, but of course it's too late. However, his own body seems to have taken its cue from Wesley and it is obviously determined to follow, though Snape tries desperately to clutch to the edge of the cliff. He, too, cries out in pain and surprise.

He hits bottom with a literally bone-cracking crunch and loses consciousness as his head meets ground.*

*Wesley didn't make it all the way down. He lies crumpled on a cliff two thirds of the way to Level 4. He, too, lies unconscious, until his right hand wakes him with a viscious slap and his legs scramble as if trying to escape. He calls feebly for Snape moments before his rebellious limbs drag him over the ledge and continue their descent, taking the rest of him with them.*

*His head hurts--a lot. So does the rest of him, for that matter. He tries to move but has a difficult time getting a response--damn his unruly body! He finally manages to at least roll over so that he can drag himself along, looking for Wesley. He only hopes that they've made it to Level 4, if only because he doesn't want to be eaten by Level 3 shades.*

Feast or famine?

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