hisapprentice | [Puzzle 018]

[Puzzle 018]

[For house 48]

[A typical day in this house begins with Luke up and about, making breakfast and tea. Whether Firo shows up to have any is up to him. School's back in session and he needs an earlier start, that's all. This morning is no different, Luke pulls on his sweater while walking into the kitchen, headed for the refrigerator. It's when he pulls open the door that everything gets weird - starting with the whole room losing its household vibe and becoming much more...archaeological.]

[Action]

[Incredulous adventures aside, Luke finds it difficult to adjust to the busier lifestyle that comes with school starting and warmer weather ending. It gets darker, colder, Luke grows lonelier. He's out and about in the autumn sun, off to his usual stop at the bakery (okay, okay, one of his three or four usual stops) when a brownish figure passes him going in the opposite direction.

Luke stops. Spinning left, he sees the figure retreating down the path the way he came, and though all logic tells him it can't be real, he takes off running after it.]

Professor! [Because there is no one else. It must be him.] Professor, wait! Just- hold on a minute, please!

[Luke did not realize a vision from the past could hurt so much. When Layton's back and top hat fade into a false mist and then nothingness, Luke has run himself all the way back across the village, nearer to the rec center. Out of breath and out of spirit, he sits down on a bench to stare at the dirt.

Today is awful.]

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I don't know. Sounds like that are never good in places like this.

[The rumbling crawls closer; when Luke tries to step away from the wall, he realizes why.]

It's the floor, Firo!

[His torch waves around sort-of-frantically, while he stares at a dusty, widening crack that spans the width of the hallway. On cue the process speeds up, both widening and dropping the crack. A trapdoor with hidden hinges?]

What the hell?!

[He grabs for Luke's collar and tries to pull him away from the opening. It may not do any good, but it's the only thing he can think to do to try and make sure he doesn't fall in. Though Firo doesn't think it so clearly in the moment, he'd never forgive himself if he got Luke hurt.]

What're we supposed to do?

[For once, Luke doesn't mind the collar grab, because he thinks it will keep them both from dropping or tripping.]

What if we-

[The rest of his breath dispels as the floor falls open in one quick swoop beneath him, before he has a chance to push off and jump. Tricksy thing, opening larger than it looked like it intended to.]

[Firo doesn't see it coming. There's not even time for him to curse as the two of them plummet through the air.

He only has a quick feeling of disappointment that he couldn't save Luke, and then fear as he waits for them to hit the ground.]

[They don't fall for long! It's a bit of a rough landing on a smooth, sloping rock floor - like a slide. They'll slide the rest of the way to the bottom. Luke's torch goes out. He 'lands' after the slide in a messy roll, and stays on the ground, trying to get his bearings in a much dimmer room of some kind.]

[Firo lets out a grumpy yelp as he lands on the ground. In a second, he's hauling himself to his feet, wildly looking around the room. His eyes haven't adjusted yet, so there isn't much he can make out.]

Jesus... Luke, you okay?

[Sounds like Firo made it. Luke sits up, squinting; the torches in this narrow but tall hall are bracketed higher, so the light isn't as good.]

Y-yeah. I'm okay. What about you?

[By some miracle, his hat is still on his head. There might not be much to save his sweater, though, torn and scruffy as it became on that slide.]

Fine, fine.

[He sounds grouchy but not pained.

He realizes he should apologize--he did set that thing off--but decides to save that for later. Or never. Instead he moves closer to Luke and peers down the hallway.]

Any idea what this part is supposed to be?

This part?

[Luke doesn't think his extinguished torch is useless, but it is plenty useless for giving off light; he'll keep it for other purposes, just in case. This leaves him squinting around, almost backing into Firo, and listening as closely as he can.]

Well, I don't hear anything...moving out there. ['Out there' being down either end of the long high corridor.] So, probably no mummies.

Great. That's a comfort.

[He checks for his knife again and this time he withdraws it from his jacket to hold it. It can't hurt them to be ready.]

Which way? You see any, uh... clues or somethin'?

[He feels silly using vocabulary better suited to a detective novel, but he can't think of a better word.]

Most of what I see is really dark and fuzzy.

[He did see Firo pull the knife. Means a lot, that he's choosing not to say something about it. Luke turns toward the slide's direction...only to find that the wall has closed behind them.]

Well, we can't go back the way we came. Which way do you want to try?

[After falling like that, he's not sure where their house would be in relation to this. Would it even matter? Firo glances both ways, then shrugs and points to the left (with the knifeless hand, of course).]

That way. Since it doesn't really matter, right?

I don't think it matters. Even if it does, I'm thoroughly lost now. Can you reach one of those torches up there? [Luke's best jump will not get him near one.]

[one of the joys of being around Luke: he makes Firo feel tall. He nods and moves to the wall, careful not to lean on it or touch it this time. He can reach the torch on his tip toes.

Torch aloft, he gestures forward and tries to fake enthusiasm he definitely doesn't have.]

Let's move out.

[Luke makes everyone feel tall.]

At least we've a bit more light now. [In future, Luke must be careful. He might pick up that damnable accent of Firo's someday.] I know this isn't very exciting for you, but it could really be worse, all right?

[Either one could be alone in the false ruins. Or mummies could arrive and chase them. Luke sets his shoulders and starts off down the left hall.]

[~~Don't be damning his accent!~~

He walks alongside Luke, careful to hold the torch out to light up as much of the area before them as possible.

He shrugs, grumbling.]

Of course it could be worse. It could always be worse. It's just damn inconvenient to be stuck here.

[~~He will damn what he damn well pleases~~

There are people Luke would rather be trapped with than Firo. Maiza and the Professor were happier, more adventurous company, for one.]

I just hope that when it all changes back, we aren't trapped underground or something.

[Firo blinks and shifts the torch to better look at Luke's face.

Damn it, he hadn't even considered that.]

You mean, like, buried alive?

[He's heard of people dying that way, though he's never had it happen to him and has never done it to anyone else.]

Er. [Luke pales in the torchlight. No he did not mean that but now he's thinking it.] I-I don't want to think about that happening. I meant...you know, with room to breathe.

Oh.

[He probably should have guessed that Luke wouldn't bring up something so dark.]

Well, I'm not sure how likely that'd be, unless the tunnels actually go through this exact spot...

[Way to lift the mood.]

But, uh, let's not worry about that.

[Firo Prochainezo, expert in the art of sunshine attitudes.

At least that gives Luke something else to think about.]

Why doesn't your last name match the name you call your family, anyway?

[Firo blinks at that question; it's something so familiar to him that he never would have thought it might be weird to other people. The fact that his Family is part of his family complicates things a lot for outsiders. Most don't even ask.]

They are my family.

[He's probably reading too much into the use of the word "call" there.]

The Family uses Don Martillo's last name 'cause he's the one who started us. I use my pop's last name, 'cause... well, that's what we always used even after he died.

["We" this time referring to him and his mom.]

[Ah, yes. The Family, different from "The Family" Luke knew in crazy future London and, of course, different mostly from Firo's blood relatives. Not all of Luke's memories from the time he spent as Czes's brother stick all the time.]

Maiza's in your Family too, right?

[Boy, does Firo like talking about his adopted family--particularly the Family part of it. (Blood family is a completely different and somewhat depressing story.) It does make him a bit homesick, but the smile on his face still threatens to outshine the torch when he thinks about them.]

Yeah, he's our conta e oro--like an accountant, basically. And, of course, that means he's a capo, too. Like me, but way higher up.

[Luke has been around the world a bit and is fairly sure Firo just called Maiza "that guy who counts the gold". It doesn't really fit in with calm, smiling Maiza in his head, to imagine him as the mafioso in charge of the money...but there was no money in Luceti. Maybe he's different when it exists.]

I sort of remember those things, but I don't think we knew a whole lot about them at the time. Czes and me, I mean.

[It's rather nice to see Firo happy, sort of.]

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