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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 20, 2010 19:35:23 GMT -5
Astin was at Dastan's side in a second after he began retching. He didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he held back Dastan's hair from his face and waited silently until his friend was finished.
"I did offer to look for a bucket, you know," he pointed out, letting Dastan's hair fall back. Turning to the other matter at hand, he cast yet another look about the room; there was nothing new. "As for the sarcophagus... I think you may be right. But I don't like it and this was a stupid idea, anyway, and if I die, I want it on my tombstone that this was your bad idea." He paused, looking back at the very shiny sarcophagus. "But... what could possibly be up with it? I mean, it's empty. It's open; look."
Astin pointed. It had been open since they'd set foot in the place, and it was still empty. What could they need it for? It was just a stupid, old, shiny coffin that Egyptians used to put important people inside; and this one looked like it had held someone very important, possibly a pharaoh, or at least a very well-liked wealthy man.
With a sigh, Astin reached out toward the sarcophagus. Every inch closer felt like a worse and worse idea; he closed his eyes, and his fingers met cool metal. Nothing happened. Astin opened one eye; still nothing, so he opened the other. Huh.
"Well, I guess that was a--" He was cut off by a sudden rumbling. Dust and pebbles fell from the ceiling as the wall behind the sarcophagus simply moved aside. Astin blinked. "Okay, why the hell did I have to touch a sarcophagus for that?" He looked back to Dastan. "You ready for this?"
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 20, 2010 22:51:07 GMT -5
"You ready for this?"
Dastan stood to his feet, wiping at his mouth and feeling quite a bit disgusting but thankful that Astin had at least spared his hair from getting any of the nastiness in it. He did have to admit that he felt a little bit better now. The nausea had gone down to a more bearable level, and he hoped that he'd be able to count on himself to not throw up again. It was disgusting, and he hated it.
He then looked at the now moved wall and sighed. "As ready as I can be," he said in response to Astin, reaching down to pull his wand back out of his boot so he'd at least be ready to face whatever was past that point. "Let's go."
With that, he began moving to the door, hoping that he'd be ready for the next obstacle.
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 20, 2010 23:57:39 GMT -5
Astin took an unsure look at Dastan. "If you say so," he replied. Then he stepped through the doorway.
They were in another hallway, wider this time than the last. There was a hollow to their left, however, where a metallic, startlingly realistic statue rested. It was unsettling, and Astin side-stepped away from it like a frightened crab. It had the body of some sort of feline but a human head...
"A sphinx," he thought out loud. At that, the thing's eyes snapped open. Astin backed against the wall in shock.
For a while, it didn't move a muscle. Astin began to think that perhaps he had imagined its eyes had ever been closed. Then, delicately, it stood; the elegance and grace in its actions made all of Astin's thoughts cease being. It had the natural dignity of a cat and the practiced poise of royalty. Immediately, Astin was in awe of it.
He was also the slightest bit terrified. He did not like cats. Cats did not like him much, either; every time he was near one, it tended to make attempts to claw his eyes out. He was rather sure that he could do nothing should this creature-- a sphinx, he reminded himself-- decide it didn't like the way his eyes fit in his face.
Astin looked back toward the doorway they'd entered through, but it was closed off again. Well. There goes that plan. He swallowed heavily and looked back to Dastan. This was a bad idea.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 21, 2010 0:10:42 GMT -5
"A sphinx," Astin said, then turned to Dastan looking terrified.
Dastan couldn't blame him. A sphinx...beneath Hogwarts? What the hell? "Land of the Forgotten Myths...of course. Bloody figures. What do we do? Did you...it's not just those damn pills tricking me, is it? Did you see that thing? It moved..."
"I am no thing," the sphinx suddenly said in a feminine, eerie voice, and Dastan jumped back quite comically, pressing himself against the wall that had previously been a doorway of sorts. It so wasn't his day. "I am a Sphinx, just as the boy said. And if you wish to progress past this point, you must answer a riddle."
Dastan tried to remember everything he knew about the Sphinx of legend. In most myths, the Sphinx was a guardian of sorts, and it blocked entrances to places. It was also depicted as having a traditional riddle, one that it always asked. If he remembered correctly, in Greek Mythology, it was said to be blocking the entrance to Thebes and Oedipus had answered the riddle. But for the life of him, Dastan couldn't remember either the riddle or its answer.
"What's your riddle, Sphinx?" Dastan said, hoping it would jog his memory. It didn't.
"Which creature in the morning goes on four legs, at mid-day on two, and in the evening upon three, and the more legs it has, the weaker it be?"
Dastan's brain promptly froze, his eyes moving quickly from side to side as he tried to remember the answer, but it was no use. Every time he reached for it, he felt it slip, as if going just out of his fingers. It was so frustrating! If his brain would just focus, he knew he could answer it.
But it was useless. "Astin, please tell me you know the answer? I've forgotten."
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 21, 2010 0:54:52 GMT -5
"Astin, please tell me you know the answer? I've forgotten."
Astin shot him an exasperated look. "How the hell am I supposed to know the answer!? I'm lucky I know the answer to one plus one! I'm not exactly a brilliant man here!" Astin exclaimed. He looked at the sphinx again and began edging away from it. It looked like it was going to eat him.
"Can't we just like," he said gently, "Keep walking and stop causing you all this trouble? I mean, surely we-- alright, shutting up now," he said at the unpleasant look that crossed the sphinx's face. Before he could piss off the ancient creature any more, he turned back to Dastan.
Alright, Astin, you can do this. Okay, something that walks on four legs in the morning. A lot of things. Any animals, really. Hm. Fine, something that walks on two legs during midday. Bears? People? Some kinds of aliens? Astin groaned. "This isn't working," he pointed out. He began massaging his aching temples tiredly.
"Okay, brain power," he mumbled. He looked over at Dastan. "I don't suppose you have any idea yet?" He quirked his lips, deep in thought. What is weaker the more legs it uses?
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 21, 2010 1:13:15 GMT -5
((I have permission to use Astin. Just so you know)
"How the hell am I supposed to know the answer!? I'm lucky I know the answer to one plus one! I'm not exactly a brilliant man here!"
Dastan's brows knit in thought. He kept on going over the moment within the Oedipus legend where Oedipus answered the riddle and the sphinx devours herself. It had been ridiculously simple, almost too simple.
"Well, maybe that's the thing. Riddles are supposed to be simple, and that's what makes them so difficult. Let's think for a minute. What is a ridiculously obvious answer?"
"You haven't got much time, children. And I am very hungry." The Sphinx, as if to prove her point, licked her lips, which was, quite frankly, one of the more terrifying things that Dastan had witnessed in his life.
"We're being timed now?" Dastan groused, feeling a sweat begin beading on his head. He did not want Astin to get devoured by the sphinx. Not right in front of him. Merlin, take it, what was the answer? He had to think quick.
He shot a panicked look at Astin. He had to...wait.
"Man!" he and Astin shouted at the same time.
"He crawls on all fours as a baby," Dastan said, feeling that all was right with the world the more he spoke.
"And walks on two feet as a grown man," Astin continued, also looking excited.
"And when he's old, he has to walk with a cane, which makes it three legs. And the more legs he has..."
"The weaker he is. Babies are the weakest, Old men are the second weakest, and the strongest is the grown man. That's right, isn't it?"
Dastan shot a look at the sphinx as Astin finished speaking. Silence stretched out, and Dastan felt the first bit of doubt weasel its way into his brain. Then, slowly, a smile lit up her face.
"You are correct!" the Sphinx said. "Goodbye, and good luck."
And before Dastan and Astin even had a moment to celebrate their victory, light filled the room, presumably from the Sphinx consuming herself, and Dastan felt the floor drop out from beneath him. He let out a quick cry, but it did nothing to prevent the feeling of unpleasantness that settled in his gut and he began to fall.
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 21, 2010 1:31:39 GMT -5
Astin grunted when he hit the ground.
"Not a very nice prize, is it?" he asked, pushing himself the ground. He turned to look at his surroundings, only to find there was something missing. Or someone, rather. "Dastan? Das, where are you?" Panic began to overtake his heart. Dastan was hardly in the condition to be alone and in danger and oh gods what if he got hurt? "Das, can you hear me!?"
There was no response. The silence stretched on, threatening and terrifying. Astin's hands began to shake. What would he do if Dastan was hurt or injured or dead or if he never found his way out or something ate him or maybe... he took a deep breath. Dastan would be fine. He always was. So far, they'd made it out of everything... together. They'd never had to do this alone.
Astin rubbed his sweaty palms on his robes. He could do this. They'd both be alright, of course. They always were. Maybe being apart would help keep them from getting in so much trouble; after all, Astin tended to endanger his life only when they were together. Maybe this would be a good experience? Astin sighed; he doubted it. Nonetheless, he picked up his fallen wand and began to traipse down the hall.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 21, 2010 1:44:18 GMT -5
Drip. Drip. Drip.
"Cutitout," Dastan murmured. But the dripping continued, forcing him to open his eyes. Realizing where he was, he sat up abruptly. What hell had happened...?
Well, that was a stupid question, wasn't it? He and Astin had answered the question and then they'd fallen through some kind of stupid trap door; He must've hit his head when he'd hit the bottom, and it had knocked him out for a second.
A steady throbbing in the back of his head confirmed the thought and he winced, reaching up to rub at the goose egg there.
"Stupid Sphinx," he muttered, "Sorry, Astin, I didn't brace myself for the impact and...Astin?" he called, expecting the blonde to be right next to him. But he wasn't. There was nothing anywhere around him. Pushing himself hurriedly to his feet, he began fighting down a panic that wanted to consume him.
"Astin!? Where are you? This isn't funny, you know. You better not have gone off exploring without me!" The only answer was that same steady dripping noise that had awakened him from his brief spell of unconsciousness in the first place. He was really alone.
Swallowing thickly, Dastan tried to formulate some kind of plan. He had to get back to Astin somehow. An idea suddenly formed in his head; a spell that Lord Alex had told him about. It wasn't like a usual spell--it didn't have a Latin incantation at all.
In fact, it was ridiculously simple. One just needed to know a person's name and have a deep, almost desperate desire to find them, and it would work. Picking up his wand, which had fallen close to him in the fall, he set it flat on his palm. "Point Me: Astin Descartes."
The wand abruptly began spinning; it was working. Smiling, Dastan prepared to head in the direction it stopped on. Unfortunately, it was pointing directly at a solid wall. Dammit. Grumbling and praying that this didn't go badly, Dastan started walking forward, planning on taking the right turn the minute it was possible to.
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 21, 2010 2:14:40 GMT -5
Astin's heart pounded in his chest. There was still no sign of his best friend, and he was worried, dammit. He had no idea what had happened to him. For all Astin knew, he could have been eaten alive by sharks or piranhas, although Astin wasn't really sure why there were sharks or piranhas a billion feet beneath Hogwarts, but maybe the sphinx kept Dastan and ate him because he looked tastier or something strange-- Das was exotic, right? And he was from the Middle East, which was definitely closer to Egypt than France was, and the sphinx, was it Egyptian or Greek? Because he'd always thought sphinxes were Egyptian but then he also knew that they were in that one Greek myth where th-- okay. Stop that, Astin chided himself. He had to concentrate.
Astin took a deep, calming breath. He could do this. Not that hard, right? Just... follow the path. Okay. Wand held tightly, he began the trek down the hall.
It was a veritable labyrinth. Everywhere he went, there were more choices and turns, then dead-ends, but he could never quite remember which direction he'd come from or where he was going. All the twists began to blur together until he eventually stopped thinking and just wandered.
Straight into a glass plate. He rubbed at his stinging forehead. Why the hell was there a glass plate. He passed his fingers over it; there was no reflection of them at all. Weird. There was something... off about it.
He blinked at it after a moment, then turned to look behind him. He stared back at the glass, back at his surroundings, back at the glass.
It's the exact same. From the marks on the bricks to the flickering torches in the background, there was nothing that was different, save one thing: he didn't show up in the mirror.
Did that mean he was looking at a mirror? Why the hell wasn't his reflection showing up? He panicked just a little, hands grasping at himself to make sure he was really there. Then he stopped; that was dumb. He wasn't dead or anything. Maybe he was a vampire? No, not likely. He'd have noticed that by now, and he hadn't been munched upon by any men with strange Eastern European accents lately.
Then where the hell was his reflection?
He shook his head. That was hardly the most important question here. He turned to continue exploring the maze, only to come face to face with another being. Himself.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 21, 2010 3:00:29 GMT -5
Dastan fought the childish impulse to throw his wand on the ground and begin stomping it into oblivion. And luckily, too, because he was pretty sure that that would only make matters so much worse. It was just frustrating, because the wand was now telling him that Astin was through a fucking mirror. A mirror that didn't have his reflection in it, by the way.
Groaning and turning around, he ran a hand through his hair. It felt weird, with the bandages on, but at least those muggle painkillers and burn spray had done their job (even if the painkillers had made him nauseous) and it wasn't particularly painful anymore.
Suddenly, he felt the hair on his arms prick up. Someone else was in the room. "Astin...?" he said, but it wasn't Astin that he felt his dark eyes land on. No, it was...himself?
He didn't have time to make sense of it though before the figure emotionlessly lifted the wand and a spell shot out of it.
Dastan ducked to the side, tucking into a roll and then getting to his feet quickly, leveling the wand at his doppelganger. "Who the hell are you, really?" he asked it angrily.
The things response? Another curse. Dastan danced backwards to avoid it this time and thanked his lucky stars that it hadn't hit; the place where it did hit was now a giant gaping hole of exploded rubble.
Apparently, Dastan thought, looking at the emotionless face of his doppelganger, it had all of his magical power and none of his limitations. Swallowing the tiniest bit of fear, Dastan raised his wand and prepared to fight back. There was no way he was going to die here; not before he'd completed his goals.
And certainly not before he found Astin and made sure that he was alright.
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 21, 2010 3:45:07 GMT -5
Astin ducked behind a wall as sparks flew at him.
"What the fuck was that?" he yelled at... himself... Gods, Hogwarts just got weirder and weirder every year, didn't it? He peeked around the corner, only to have another curse flung at him. "Seriously, what the fuck? I'm you, you dick!" he yelled at it. "You're committing suicide! Dumb-ass!"
The spells didn't cease; they only got more threatening. When a Blasting Curse was fired at his head, Astin decided he'd had enough of this crap. He was sick of being fired at by himself, dammit, and he wasn't going to be his own target practice anymore! Or, well, he was, but... fuck, this was confusing.
He had no time to think as he ducked behind yet another wall to avoid a Crucio cast at him.
"What the fuck!?" he screamed. "Stop trying to curse me! What the hell did I do?" The wall by his ear crumbled to dust, apparently hit with another Blasting Curse. He growled. He was sick and tired of this! His freaking doppelganger or evil twin or what have you was trying to kill him! Seriously, what the hell? This was getting irritating.
Astin gripped his wand tighter and spun around. Time to face things. And he wasn't going to work his way up, either. He may be sore in the morning, but he wasn't going to get murdered by his reflection.
"Diffindo!" he called, shooting the Severing Charm at, erm, himself. Maybe in his head he'd call the mirror-him Greg or something. Mix things up.
And then he was back to ducking behind walls and running for cover as yet another curse flew his way. Just this time, he was fighting back.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 21, 2010 4:04:30 GMT -5
Dastan's breath came in heavy gasps as he realized once again that he and his doppelganger were matches in power, but not in skill. And the doppelganger (who from now on would be called Fakhir, both because he decided the thing was prideful, and because of Fakhir's similarity to a more well-known word in English, but mostly because he was tired of referring to his enemy as himself) was the one with more skill, and didn't seem to tire at all. He ducked behind one of the many pillars and tried to catch his breath. His wand-hand was bleeding from how tightly he'd been gripping his wand; apparently, some of the blisters had exploded. It wasn't pleasant, by any means, and now, the pain killers were beginning to wear off, which was both good for his stomach, and bad for the general level of discomfort he was in. He needed to end things quickly.
"Reducto!" he called, aiming his wand at the thing. It exploded the ground right in front of him, but 'Fakhir' did not even seem to falter; he was above fear, above pain, and above all else, too, it seemed. Dastan had hit him with almost every curse, but none of them seemed to have any affect, except in the way he felt his energy drain with each successfully casted spell. At this rate, he'd die.
Closing his eyes, Dastan tried to think of something else. There had to be a weakness somewhere to this thing...
His dark eyes flashed then to the mirror. Maybe that was the source of its power...? He remembered looking into the mirror and not seeing a reflection. What if this thing, Fakhir, was a physical manifestation of that reflection? That would certainly explain some things. And it wasn't like he had much to lose, so if he could just get to the mirror and bust it...
A particularly well-aimed Cutting Curse sliced into his thigh and he cried out in pain, cursing his luck for the millionth time that day and reaching down with his other hand to clutch at the injury. Blood spurted out, coating the bandages on the hand that he had placed over it. That was never a good sign. "Shit, shit, shit," he almost whined, swallowing thickly. He had to go, now or never.
Standing, or rather, stumbling to his feet, Dastan flung a very well aimed Blasting Curse at the thing, knocking it backwards. Now was his chance. Running as fast as his injured leg would let him, Dastan lowered his head, stuck out his shoulder, and slammed into the glass, causing it to shatter all around him. He fell painfully to the ground on the other side of the mirror and then looked up just in time to watch Fakhir explode into a million tiny pieces, a terrifying shrieking sound exploding out of the thing's mouth before it finally mellowed out.
Dastan then set his head back down with a light thump and closed his eyes, his chest heaving and a hand still clutching at his thigh. He was okay, for now at least. Now, if only he could find Astin...
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 21, 2010 4:21:51 GMT -5
The bastard matched his Diffindo with own of its own, and its spell didn't miss; it tore into Astin's shoulder. Luckily, his arm still seemed to be attached, but he couldn't move it or feel it. Apparently he had some severed tendons or nerves or both, maybe. At least it was his left arm. But the pain had momentarily stunned him and given the stupid reflection time to cast a curse, a particularly painful one. Astin wasn't sure what it was-- he had missed the incantation while in intense pain-- but he felt like he was being ripped apart. He looked down to see blood staining his shirt, at his stomach. Oh god. Unable to stand the pain, he collapsed.
This was the end. Here he was on the ground, about to die. Dirt and dust streaked his face, perspiration dotted his forehead, and blood ran in rivulets down his arm and pooled beneath him. His doppelganger brandished his wand, and Astin closed his eyes, reaching for his own. If only he could... his fingers met the familiar wood, and he grabbed hold and pointed it at his reflection.
"Reducto," he tried desperately. It hit the shocked being square in the chest and knocked him back a few feet. Astin tried to get up, tried to scramble onto his own feet, but he couldn't. He saw himself shatter into a million pieces, like flecks of dust glittering in the sunlight before the colors faded away.
And then everything faded to black.
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Post by Dastan Cross on Jul 21, 2010 4:43:29 GMT -5
Dastan jumped when the sound of another shriek pierced the room where he had fallen and a mirror on the other side shattered into a million pieces. Sitting up hurriedly, Dastan tried to grab his wand and get to his feet, prepared for another fight if need be but...Oh, Merlin was that?
Dastan didn't think; he just dragged himself to his feet and limp-ran over to the other side of the room, stumbling through the doorway that was left over in the wake of an exploded mirror to the still form of Astin, lying on the ground, covered in blood. He dropped to his knees, and grabbed at Astin, shaking him roughly.
"Wake up!" he shouted, "Dammit, Astin, wake up! You can't do this to me! Hey!"
Merlin, this was bad. It was so bad. Where was all the blood coming from...? Shaking in the hands, Dastan tried to think of a course of action. What did someone do when their best friend was lying on the ground and coated in blood? And from the pale skin of Astin's face, it was all his, too. And that was a lot of missing blood for one person.
"Merlin, Astin, if you don't wake up in the next three seconds and tell me you're okay..." I'll die.
The last two words weren't spoken aloud. He couldn't speak them. He couldn't even fathom a world without Astin in it. He didn't want to fathom a world without Astin in it. And as always, it was his fault. Would he ever manage to not get Astin nearly killed?
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Post by Astin Descartes on Jul 21, 2010 5:10:54 GMT -5
Astin winced as he was shaken violently. He was already sore, and all his muscles protested any movement at all, as it stirred the ache in his stomach and made it almost unbearable.
Weakly, he placed his hand on Dastan's shoulder. "Stop moving me please," he whispered hoarsely, a vague grin on his face. Wrapping his uninjured arm around Dastan's shoulder, he pulled himself into a sitting position, feeling blood spill out of his open wound. That was not good. He looked down at it. It looked even worse than it felt.
"Don't suppose you cart around a needle and thread, d'you?" he said weakly, eyes still trained on the crimson liquid oozing from him. A sudden surge of pain flashed through him, and he gripped onto Dastan tighter. "Fuck," he muttered, clenching his fists. He closed his eyes and leaned against Dastan's shoulder. A sudden drowsiness overtook him, and he wasn't sure that he could fight it.
"I... I think I'm gonna take a nap," he said. Another wave of pain hit, and he tensed again; the tightening caused more blood to gush from his wound. Sitting up hadn't been a great idea, he decided, and he let go to fall on his back. Lidded eyes took in Dastan's appearance, then dropped to the large blood stain on his robes.
"Ruined your robes again," he muttered. "Fourth time."
He breathed deeply, trying to will the pain away. He had to assess this situation while he was still conscious. Dastan seemed to be okay; perhaps a little worse for wear, but relatively alive. He, on the other hand, could not feel or move his left arm, had an open gash in his abdomen, and was drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness.
But he couldn't keep up anymore. His brain was muddled by the blood loss, and his adrenaline was leaving him with searing pain everywhere.
This was a particularly shitty idea, he decided.
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