06-25-2020, 12:15 AM
An ominous splash squeaked under his shoes. Andre cringed to wonder what he walked through. He’d been dressed for the Kremlin, and posh, brotherly reunions, not sewer trekking. Speaking of. Shit, but what was that smell? Oh yeah. Probably shit.
What a brilliant asshole he was.
He turned around to go back. As he reached the hole, he realized there was no way out. The drop down had no handholds with which to climb back out. The Force was no good to him here, unless he could levitate, which wasn’t a thing. With a frown, he sparked up a good beam of light to carry in his hand. At least he could try to avoid the worst of the muck seeing where he was going.
The sewer went on for what he assumed was a couple of blocks before meeting up with other drain waters. Over his head, smaller pipes constantly dripped a dark flow. Rats squeaked just outside the throw of his laser light. He held the beam like a sword, glowing hilt and all. It was all glow and show. Having tested it once or twice, he had yet to make the light actually slice anything like a proper lightsaber. Did look cool as shit, though.
Sometimes he saw sealed up manholes. There were stairs that ended at concrete walls. The whistle and rumble of distant subway trains thundered through the ground. He had to know he was trespassing somewhere irresponsible, but the curiosity (and lack of exit), pulled him ever-onward.
Finally, signs of civilization showed itself in the form of graffiti. He paused along the wall, holding up the beam of light. Most was in Russian, but there were shapes and symbols mixed in the design. There were older layers behind the newest.
He almost lost his balance on a swath of slimesickle, which would have really pissed him off to fall into the sewer water. That’d be the kind of funk that never washed out. After that, Andre was glad to hear noises echoing in the stony distance.
What a brilliant asshole he was.
He turned around to go back. As he reached the hole, he realized there was no way out. The drop down had no handholds with which to climb back out. The Force was no good to him here, unless he could levitate, which wasn’t a thing. With a frown, he sparked up a good beam of light to carry in his hand. At least he could try to avoid the worst of the muck seeing where he was going.
The sewer went on for what he assumed was a couple of blocks before meeting up with other drain waters. Over his head, smaller pipes constantly dripped a dark flow. Rats squeaked just outside the throw of his laser light. He held the beam like a sword, glowing hilt and all. It was all glow and show. Having tested it once or twice, he had yet to make the light actually slice anything like a proper lightsaber. Did look cool as shit, though.
Sometimes he saw sealed up manholes. There were stairs that ended at concrete walls. The whistle and rumble of distant subway trains thundered through the ground. He had to know he was trespassing somewhere irresponsible, but the curiosity (and lack of exit), pulled him ever-onward.
Finally, signs of civilization showed itself in the form of graffiti. He paused along the wall, holding up the beam of light. Most was in Russian, but there were shapes and symbols mixed in the design. There were older layers behind the newest.
He almost lost his balance on a swath of slimesickle, which would have really pissed him off to fall into the sewer water. That’d be the kind of funk that never washed out. After that, Andre was glad to hear noises echoing in the stony distance.