the heat was borderline unbearable, fleeing outlanders left & right trying to find a speck of shade to keep them cool from harsh rays. lukas was no different, but he usually spent his time at the lagoon. the water there was refreshing, most likely due to the healing properties within, but it’s not like that spot was undiscoverable to the rest of arcadia. word of the waters had been floating around for weeks, considering the watering hole was completely out of the question due to the whole remembrance day shenanigans that made them all really watch their backs. what was once a safe haven for him became a popular spot. his research was useless if groups of people were disrupting it. besides, who was to say all the activity didn’t have negative effects on the water itself ? the whole situation had him stressed, tired, & hot, so he went to the only place he wouldn’t have to see anyone else. surely, with how much of a labyrinth the mount was, he wouldn’t see a single soul seeking refuge from the sun.
he was successful thus far, backpack tucked safely upon his shoulders while he walked without purpose around the caves. it was cool, he’d give it that, but staying there beyond nightfall was a death sentence. if the rocks were cool now, they were about to be natural freezers when the sun disappeared. anyone stuck inside would have to be thawed out if they were ever found again.
rocks & pebbles crack beneath his steps, hands reaching out to brush off orange dust from various surfaces as his exploration remains the primary focus of his trip. as he’s examining a slit in the rocks, lumina rumbles. it’s a deep, eerie noise that’s only a warning for what was to come. nature made a lot of noises, though, so lukas doesn’t think much of it the first time. there’s another rumble & it causes his body to turn. the sound of rocks falling & crumbling above, below, beside… everywhere around him –– was enough to scare him shitless. he wasn’t about to be buried beneath a mountain that nobody would ever find him in. “ shit. ” the male murmured, turning once again to go back the way he came, but the ceiling caves in before he’s got the chance to make it through. so he’s quick on his feet, running the opposite way.
he stops only when he reaches crossroads, two paths he’d never seen before. it causes him to stop & that moment was the most dangerous one for him yet. he doesn’t realize the sides surrounding him were crumbling closer & closer to his body… until ! he’s on the ground again from the impact of something heavy. lukas wasn’t sure if it was a body or a rock until he’s tumbling into the wall with a jagged edge stabbing into his side. “ fuck ! ” hands move to the new wound, something that would bruise later on, before he’s coughing from kicked up dust. “ what the fuck, man ? ” forearms press against the floor before he’s lifting himself up to see who had sent him spiraling away from a collapse. “ yeah, i’m… ” pain surges, but lukas just sucks in a sharp inhale. “ i’m good. are you ? we gotta get the fuck out of here. ” but the two pathways that were once available were now blocked off & lukas’ shoulders fall with disappointment. “ thank you, though. ”
Splinter’s coughing; puffs of orange dust kicks up in front of him and there’s the briefest moment of shock that seems to be forced down in order to kick instincts into gear. The mount’s just crumbled, move. Boots drag along the same dusty floor, they skid – a grunt slips from the ranger’s lips as he’s pressing palms flat to the ground and forcing himself back up. He’s aware enough that he’s alive – fairly certain the body he’d barrelled into is too, based on the person-like sounds emitting from somewhere on his right hand side.
Like it’s more important that his actual biological limbs, he rolls his shoulders from the position on his knees and feels the bow and quiver still strapped tight flush against his back – albeit, a little harsh dug into his spine in that moment.
Fuck. He’s got frantic eyes searching suddenly when his sense re-engage and shock passes, he’s ambled up, reaches out towards the person he’s just dived at, hears their voice to make the sounds of alive-ness a little more promising. “hey,” again – like Flint’s got every good intention to try and gain their attention in order to at least remove them from imminent danger.
He’s not sure if he’s hit his head and can’t shake out of it or if he’s hearing that rumble from above again. Doesn’t want to wait to find out.
Finally, recognition strikes – same moment Splinter tries to assess through the rise in adrenaline whether the man is hurt. He knows Lukas now he can see the face; sawbone, helpful in their situation, truly.
Knows more than Splint does about injury at least.
Probably should have expected some sort of backlash given the abruptness of Splinter’s actions only moments ago. Briefly glances down at his own arms, a sting of grazes adorning forearms, bubbles of blood speckling through the gashes; superficial. He’s in one piece, appears that Lukas might be too, hopefully. “Good,” prompt, like there’s no time to come up with anything charming when there’s a potential they could both get buried. As however spontaneous it might have been; the risk remains. Apollo’s not sure if there’s something on the top of Lumina that’s encouraging the downfall, but even for someone with a keen eye – he’s not pausing to look for too long.
“Didn’t mean to floor you,” he murmurs, (well, he did, but not with harmful intent) hues flickering over the man – notes the expression of pain that radiates through his features, smacks the man on the shoulder in a careless kind of check-in. “You sure you’re good?” half attentive now when Splint’s stumbling a step back, looking at the blocked exit with a frown. He fast works out that it’d take far too long to dig through it and even then, it’s not the most feasible of options when they’re in a rather unstable part of Lumina. The other direction; the narrow hole, points away from Arcadia and beyond a little uncharted judging by the shallowing path; cavernous routes that might end with them being buried inside the mountain.
Maybe the properties about Lumina misses out in its description about the murderous intent it has with those trawling its pathways.
How hard did you hit your head, Flint? He almost loses his own balance when he tries to walk, arm juts down to catch himself on the mountain’s side, looks down at his leg – ankle, with a frown; convinces himself it’s just a sprain. Walk it off, Ranger. Self-issued, and he’s busy ignoring that, to strategise the mess either side of them. Upwards; also, not the best of options – he’s not sure it wouldn’t come right down on them even if they were in a climbing state.
“Shit,” muttered to himself, Flint’s fingers flex – he’s thinking, looks back to the sawbone and then carries through to look at the unappealing last option pathway that involves some apparent caving into the mount itself.
“Don’t suppose you’ve,” wince, “got a flashlight, med?” Even if it’s one of those irritating little pocket lights that Splinter hates being shined in his eyes – like his vision might burn out with the invasiveness. He’s pretending that there’s not a slight limp in the way he crouches to assess the opening that appears to be their last resort – an expedition with no real direction. “And are particularly adept at navigating holes?”
Smirk returns. But it’s brief that the humour is eaten fast with the cortisol swarming his bloodstream.
Splinter looks upwards, just once more. Frowns, jaw twitches with thought, looks at Lukas like he might chime in with something Apollo himself might have missed. Though, Flint would say he doesn’t miss anything, so sits on its unlikelihood.
