Mission Objective: RETRIEVE THE KEY!

[pattythepider]

The forest is thick and dark, tall trees stretching towards the heavens and cloaking out most of the light. Vines wrap around the trunks and hang from branches, draping across pathways that get lost in the undergrowth. Fanged deer scatter at the sight or sound of someone approaching, and in the distance, frogs can be heard accompanied by the sound of water.

On one of the more traveled and thus clearer paths runs the spider thief, a bronze key held triumphantly over his head while he charges off deeper into the trees. His pace is relaxed, but eager, and it's quite clear that he's on a quest to get to... somewhere.

Unaware of Isabel's request for the key to be retrieved, the spider scampers along the path, not trying too hard to hide. Besides, isn't everyone in the castle having fun with all his spider friends?

Comments

[nopattythepider.livejournal.com]

Pathetic? Perhaps if Shepard had the majority of her limbs snapped in two she might seem a little pathetic as well.

Part of him hoped that if she took the key, she would leave him alone. The other figured that if she'd gone as far as to shoot him when he'd done nothing to her, then perhaps she wasn't very kind at all. If he was going to die, then he would go down with a fight.

As Shepard moved to stand, Patrick jerked, opened his mouth and shot a spray of hot acid at her, the corrosive liquid strong enough to eat through even the toughest armor. He cared not if he died after that, the knowledge that he fought back at least a little enough for Patrick to rest easy.

[xenoshepherd.livejournal.com]

Shepard could be kind, but she had little choice here other than to sit back and let events pass her as they would. That was not in her nature, and it allowed scant room for luxuries like mercy and kindness. She had been given no incentive to put down her weapon-- chance encounters dictated she do the exact opposite.

So she took the acid to her visor. The hissing alone gave her the warning she needed to drop the rifle and key and scramble to unhook her helmet before the substance reached her unguarded skin. It popped off with a gasp, but the tiniest, hair-thin streak of acid found the Commander's cheek.

It hurt like a mother, but Shepard controlled her shouting after the barest hint of a yell choked up her throat. The corroding helmet got tossed at Patrick to create a diversion while she stooped for her gun and the prize she'd hunted Patty for, whipping about and bull-charging down the stairwell.

"Garrus, we go now!" The hand holding the key fumbled to secret it somewhere safe, that she might have a free hand to apply medi-gel to the searing pain in her face.

[turian_honor.livejournal.com]

There was no need to tell him twice. Shepard said move, so he moved. His strides practically devoured the ground, sprinting for the exit. He didn't ask why they were moving -- doing that wasted breath and distracted from the actual moving. He could ask questions once they'd hit a relatively safe point.

So he ran. He ran for the door with his rifle at the ready, and his eyes front. He trusted her to be right behind him. If she fell behind, or needed him, she'd shout again.

The advantage of working with a partner you knew so well.

[keep-hallways.livejournal.com]

The forest outside was utterly still. Not a single leaf twitched. It was as though the foliage itself were holding its breath. Some ways down the path, a small shrub lay where it had been left, half-crushed and forlorn. Of its parasitic nature, it gave no sign and none like it had appeared. The way was clear, clear and silent.

[xenoshepherd.livejournal.com]

The key went down the front of her armor and stuck in the space between her collar and the slots for her breasts. If anyone other than her made a grab for it they'd have a hell of a time doing so.

Shepard ran with adrenaline and pain fueling every stomp of her boots. She smeared medi-gel on the area of her skin afflicted by the spider's acid and had she not been bolting, would've sighed in relief as the score went numb. Medi-gel neutralized any laceration, any corrosive liquid. Scarring was likely, but she'd deal.

Her rifle she brought up in front of her chest, teeth gritting. She continued to run.

[turian_honor.livejournal.com]

He glanced back only once -- only after checking that the immediate space in front of him was clear. He got a brief glimpse of Shepard applying something to her face, probably medi-gel, before he kept on sprinting.

They were both soldiers. Moving at a good clip, with plenty of rest and fuel to burn -- so to speak -- they'd probably get to the keep before they knew it. He was dying to know what had happened up there, but until they were literally out of the woods, he knew better than to chit-chat. He had to save his breath for running, after all.

[keep-hallways.livejournal.com]

Nothing pursued them. Nothing barred their way. There were no deer, no pigeons, not so much as a loose stone.

Only when the trees began to thin and the underbrush give way did a low hush begin to crest behind them. The rattling, sighing breath of a thousand leaves in motion rose louder and louder though there was no wind to accompany it.

And then as swiftly as it had risen, the sound died away, retreating back into the stillness and the undergrowth as though there had been nothing there at all.