[He doesn't reply back, focusing his attention instead on the platform to that staircase, gauging the distance between it and the one he's standing on, trying to weigh his options. What options?
He doesn't have enough space to do a proper running jump, but there's another staircase across from him that's much closer, and another leading away from that. Fuck it. As if he's ever been used to taking the short and easy way anyway.
A good ten minutes pass. Leaping from staircase to staircase is exactly as awkward as it sounds, and the fact that he's able to reach his destination in as much time as he does without dropping the damn phone is a miracle. Now, standing at the threshold of the hole, he's able to see that the sliver of green poking out from it is ivy. The air inside of it smells like... well, a lot of things, honestly. Humid and thick, like water clinging to the underside of a mossy stone that hasn't seen the light of day in god knows how long. There's a multitude of other smells too — mainly plants, but animals too. It's heavy, cloying, and, after all he's gone through to get here, downright exhilarating.
So he walks into it, and starts heading down. And down. For longer than twenty minutes, longer than thirty, and by that point he starts keeping count with his feet instead of his head. By the time he reaches what passes for an exit, he's figured he's walked more than a couple of miles — not long enough to be tired, but certainly enough to feel like he's not in the city anymore. This being before he takes his first steps out of the corridor, dark brown rock walls substituted for slightly lighter ones. And a whole lot of green.
Stepping into the jungle, Bigby takes a much needed moment to get acclimated. The air in the corridor was jarring enough, but it's practically overwhelming now that he's in the thick of things. He can definitely smell other animals now, and all sorts of strange plants he doesn't even recognize — alien, disjointed scents that are hard to process and leave his mouth dry — and on the fringes of that, something that smells undeniably and disgustingly like stale piss.
Out of the three, the third is the easiest mystery to solve. All he has to do is turn his head.
He has a hard time figuring out what's more ridiculous: finding something like this here of all places, or the fact that he feels like he should be expecting it. Then he remembers the message on his phone.]
no subject
He doesn't have enough space to do a proper running jump, but there's another staircase across from him that's much closer, and another leading away from that. Fuck it. As if he's ever been used to taking the short and easy way anyway.
A good ten minutes pass. Leaping from staircase to staircase is exactly as awkward as it sounds, and the fact that he's able to reach his destination in as much time as he does without dropping the damn phone is a miracle. Now, standing at the threshold of the hole, he's able to see that the sliver of green poking out from it is ivy. The air inside of it smells like... well, a lot of things, honestly. Humid and thick, like water clinging to the underside of a mossy stone that hasn't seen the light of day in god knows how long. There's a multitude of other smells too — mainly plants, but animals too. It's heavy, cloying, and, after all he's gone through to get here, downright exhilarating.
So he walks into it, and starts heading down. And down. For longer than twenty minutes, longer than thirty, and by that point he starts keeping count with his feet instead of his head. By the time he reaches what passes for an exit, he's figured he's walked more than a couple of miles — not long enough to be tired, but certainly enough to feel like he's not in the city anymore. This being before he takes his first steps out of the corridor, dark brown rock walls substituted for slightly lighter ones. And a whole lot of green.
Stepping into the jungle, Bigby takes a much needed moment to get acclimated. The air in the corridor was jarring enough, but it's practically overwhelming now that he's in the thick of things. He can definitely smell other animals now, and all sorts of strange plants he doesn't even recognize — alien, disjointed scents that are hard to process and leave his mouth dry — and on the fringes of that, something that smells undeniably and disgustingly like stale piss.
Out of the three, the third is the easiest mystery to solve. All he has to do is turn his head.
He has a hard time figuring out what's more ridiculous: finding something like this here of all places, or the fact that he feels like he should be expecting it. Then he remembers the message on his phone.]
think i found your phone booth
[aka Hi I'm still alive.]