3223/Slush Sleuthing

Slush Sleuthing
Date of Scene:	28 August 2020
Location:	Ice Palace
Synopsis:	Arthur and May explore the slush rivers beneath the Bronx. It's a real snake's nest.
Cast of Characters:	Melinda May, Arthur Curry

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Melinda May has posed:
It's taken some doing -- not to mention bulling her way through a shorted ton of paperwork -- to get here. But, Agent May finally got the official go-ahead to bring Arthur Curry to the site of the Bronx Ice Palace, with its ice skeletons and slushy subterranian rivers, hoping he might be able to help her track down the source of whatever's underneath. The perimeter is held well-secure by a SHIELD defense team. The ice skeletons within are mostly dormant, now that the giant heart of the palace has quite literally been removed. That's not to say they may not still pose a risk. But, they're not quite as feisty as before.

Dressed in an insulated combat suit and sporting heat-related tech as well as cold resistant scanning tech, the Field Leader awaits the JLA man just outside a mobile SHIELD tactical command unit (a.k.a. a satelite bus) sat outside the snowy perimeter of the palace's magical reach.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    The use of Arthur as a partner wasn't difficult to arrange. SHIELD knew the information around Arthur Curry, his 'home' where he sometimes crashed, his cellphone, the Justice League. They had enough intel. But May had one thing that all other government agencies did not have. And that was permission.
    Which meant when she called she didn't get a growling snarling voice on the other end that spewed forth a stream of profanities that has made a number of /actual/ sailors to blush. She just got one or two maybe as he woke up. And then he remembered who she was.
    Which in turn led to the agreement, and him hauling himself out of bed. It didn't take long for him to get South to he city, and when May likely got the notification from one of the sensor techs in the area that he was approaching, she'd recognize him almost instantly assuredly. For he was wearing canvas shorts and a rough green buttoned up shirt. With /sleeves/ this time. So he's dressing up as also evinced by the heavy work boots that cover his feet.
    Closing the distance to the SHIELD perimeter, Arthur pauses near one of the sentries and gestures towards the palace, lifting his chin with a nod.
    Then on the comms May might well hear, << Agent May, is this the guy? >> As a flickering image of Arthur appears, hair pulled back, beard frayed like a crazy man's. But still. Yeah that's him.

Melinda May has posed:
"Yeah," May replies. "That's him. On my way."

She meets Arthur at the perimeter, waves the agent back and invites the Atlantean in. "You made it. Good." She gives his appearance the once over, but makes no comment on it -- either verbally or via expression. Way she sees it? He knows what he needs to do to stay warm enough. If he can survive the icy Atlantic, she doubts a summer snow in the Bronx is going to faze him much. "C'mon."

Without further ado, she turns and starts walking away, expecting he'll be beside her. His legs are long enough, after all. She's quick. But she's short.

As they near the Ice Palace itself, the skeleton sentries stir, but they don't actively engage. She pauses, partly to assess them, and partly to give Arthur the chance to see what they're up against. "Those things don't like to lose contact with the ice," she notes. "And the snakes that sometimes pop up are glass cannons with a wicked headtrip trick. They're all manageable."

She glances to him. "I'll tell you what little else we know." Which is precious little. "We know there's a dark river of ice water under there. Probably more slush than water, but not frozen solid. We know there's been some activity by the magic types in there, but we've kept fairly clear of it, unless it's proven a threat to the city itself. W.A.N.D., our own magic division, has done some preliminary surveys, but they haven't come up with anything different than the outside mages have. There's some sort of intelligence directing all this. We don't know who or what... or even precisely where."

She wrinkles her nose. Too much talking. But some things need to be said. So... A beat. "Last I heard, the kid is doing okay. He just misses his 'Dad'."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    The tall man with the severe features looks after the agent that had cleared him, but then his attention turns to May when she arrives. He gives a nod and then when she starts to walk he falls into step with her, used to some extent of having to ease his pace to make it comfortable for most people to walk with him.
    One hand lifts to push over his head, then scritching at the back of his neck thoughtfully before he looks sidelong at her. "What's the plan for right now? I could commit to this in a big way." He gestures to the side at the spires of the ice palace before them, pausing for a moment as he rests his hands on his hips and lifts his eyes upwards. "If you're ready for the aftermath. But might be like kicking an ant hill."
    His footsteps pause as he folds his arms over his broad chest and frowns. "And with this might take... real effort. And it's rare I let loose." Rare he's ever fully tried to exert his power on something of such scale. "Or we could try and get to the bottom about the kid's dad."
    There's trepidation in his amber eyes as he frowns, then seems to remember something at the last moment and murmurs sidelong to her. "Also, hi."

Melinda May has posed:
May blinks mildly. "Hi," she says, almost reflexively. But, then, it's back to business.

"I don't think we're ready for you to try bringing down the house. The mages are afraid the backlash of the magics contained could leave a crater the size of Bushwick. So, we're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. One brick at a time."

She surveys the entry, with its tall arching doorway and shining spires -- like something out of a Disney fairytale. "If we're able to find Vega... that would be good. But I'd like to see if your water sense will give you some idea where these rivers go, too."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Alright," Arthur says as he surveys the situation, eyes distanced while he takes in their surroundings. One hand lifts to stroke his beard in thought as he looks to the side at the rivers of ice that disappear into the depths beneath the ice palace. For a moment he chews his lower lip and makes a small face before he shakes his head and murmurs, "It's going to be difficult."
    That said he turns to look at her, cocking an eyebrow as he gives her the once over, perhaps gauging what she's wearing. Then he gestures with the sweep of one hand to the side, indicating the structure itself. "Do you want me to report in, or did you want to come along?" He turns back away and ponders the castle once more. "The vibe I get from the place..."
    His words trail off and perhaps ten seconds later he looks back, "This might not be so easy as it appears at first."

Melinda May has posed:
May gives Arthur a direct look, the faintest hint of a cocked brow to it. "I never thought it was going to be easy." A beat. "I'm coming." Why let all her fancy toys to go waste, right?

She reaches behind her and pulls out what is essentially a heat-ray rifle, checking to make sure its power pack is full. Then, she starts off toward the entryway. Skeletons stir, starting forward. However, if they were human, one might think their hearts weren't really in it. She raises her weapon, but she doesn't fire. If they're disinclined to attack, she's disinclined to waste the power. At the first hint of serious aggression, however, she will respond in kind.

"I'll try to keep the monsters off you," she tells Arthur as they start their approach. "You see what you can find out about the lay of the... liquid."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Stepping forward as well he once again falls into step with her, moving toward the palace and letting her lead though he takes point, keying off of her actions. A shake of his head is given at first but he, perhaps wisely, decides not to say anything or question that decision.
    Instead Arthur grimaces and she'll see his eyes flare, one hand lifting as he walks forward, gesturing to the ice skeletons that slowly advance their way. He'll focus, then attempt with a gesture to turn the monstrosities away, testing perhaps to see if his ability to manipulate water is enough to dissuade the creatures... or at the least push them back or get them to focus in a different direction.
    Only then does he murmur, "You take me to the nicest places." Even as his eyes glow eerily.

Melinda May has posed:
"Hey," May retorts. "It's pretty on the outside." Doesn't mean it's nice, no.

As May and Arthur near the doors, the skeletons draw closer. They could move fast, if they wanted. May has seen it. But they seem sluggish for the moment. May knows, however, the moment she fires that rifle is the moment every skeleton within range will swarm. She's hoping to avoid that.

She picks up her pace to a quick trot, waiting until he's passed through to drag the big icy doors closed behind them, hoping maybe that'll keep the skeletons at bay. Once they're closed, she lets her rifle hang by its straps and pulls out a palm-sized laser welder. Seconds later, she's melted a 12" square surface off of each door and shoved a pair of compact remote charges into the meltwater. As the surface refreezes, the bombs are embedded in the doors.

"Escape plan," she tells Arthur simply. Barrier now. Egress later.

Sure, he might be able to blast them open with a water cannon or something, but he might also be busy handling other sorts of threats. So... remote charges.

All that done, she slides the laser back in its holster and swings her rifle around instead. Silently, it occurs to her these translucent white and blue walls are reminiscent of a brief stay in Sweden's Icehotel she once enjoyed. Pretty. When one doesn't consider the dark magic infusing them.

The long passage into the central 'throne room' is largely unguarded. When they pass into the inner chamber, however, May's footsteps slow and she looks up and around at all the refracted light. Sun filters in from above, but it's the reflected light from the swirling mass beneath the floor that provides the ever changing ripples over the walls. "Huhn," she chuffs softly. "Check that out..."

Spread over the floor is a series of letters and numbers laid out like a giant Ouija board. In the center is a giant slab of ice that just might be the 'pointer'.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Smart," Arthur offers in rejoinder to the idea of prepping for an escape plan. "You SHIELD people might have some idea of what you're doing."
    That said he continues walking along the long passage, keeping his gaze roaming, his head on a swivel. She can see the subtle hints of tension to him, the way his shoulders hunch marginally and that slight scowl that's fixed on his face. Then again that could just be how he looks normally.
    Then she directs his attention to the lettering and numbers depicted upon the floor, a few steps carry him further into the room, though he's mindful not to step on any of the symbols. At least for now. "Maybe the skeletons come in here to play bingo no Sunday nights." A few more steps then he adds as he motions without looking at the pointer, "That's the free space."
    That said he takes a deep breath. Holds it. Then releases it slowly, she might well have seen such techniques before in her martial arts training, a curious thing to see in the normally wild man before her. Then he murmurs quietly, "I'm getting the feeling of... five. Maybe six branches from under here, those rivers heading off in..." A hand lifts as he points out several points on a compass. "Stronger this way." He indicates one direction, "Less so this way."

Melinda May has posed:
May regards the Ouija board for a moment more, but then shakes her head. She's no mage and isn't a big believer in spirits, so the thing wouldn't likely work for her, anyway.

She watches Arthur slip into meditative awareness. It's a state with which she's well familiar. "Which way?" she asks, scanning the approaches shuffling skeletons might take. There were a handful in here before, she remembers. Whether they're still around now? Hard to say. They've suffered quite a bit of attrition over the past several days.

At some point, May and Arthur will likely have to descend lower to get a better look. Of course, there are places where the ice has been broken before, that can indicate places where it might be thin, even now.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Distractedly he murmurs, those eyes glowing gold and bright for a time, then he blinks and shakes his head, closing his eyes for three seconds and then turning his attention back to her. "Hard to be sure."
    The Atlantean turns and motions to an archway that fades into shadows, a path that may be somewhat trod though with the way ice and snow drifts through this place it may be difficult to be sure. "That way feels strongest. We'll descend." And with that he starts to walk forward, frowning as he glances over his shoulder.
    "How long has this kid's father been missing? I don't... I don't get the vibe they have the facilities to care for people. He may be frozen. If we actually find him."
    Sometimes the stories don't have happy endings.

Melinda May has posed:
"He likely is frozen," May tells Arthur, following him as he decides which way they have to go. "But this place is completely infused with magic. So, frozen may not mean dead." Yet.

When they reach a thin part in the ice, May lifts her rifle and fires a beam at the floor. Pieces melt away, some clinging bits beneath the ice shelf falling away to land with a splash in slushy water below. The small asian woman goes to the edge of the new hole she's created and peers down. A grimace touches her lips. "I hate swimming in cold water."

Chunks of ice float in thick, brackish water. It's sluggish due to the sheer amount of ice down there, not to mention the remains of pavement and city understructure that's been swept into the flow. "I should've brought a dinghy."

That said, her combat suit is proof against the cold. Especially if she pulls up the hood and adds the face mask.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Here, one sec." And as he steps to that brackish water with the ice chunks he'll again focus, gaze distancing as he holds up one hand, expression serious as he concentrates and creates a swirl of water that slithers together slushily, ice crackling across the surface and congealing with a bluish shimmer. Slowly the water solidifies into that murkish ice, curving up at the ends and tapering a little, creating a small raft of sorts though it looks as if it were carved by a craftsman not used to his trade.
    Frowning he gestures, "That might serve. I'll stay in the water for now but can draw it along with." That said he takes those steps forward into the river's waters and still seems a touch distant, distracted.
    "Was trying to make a canoe, but this'll work. Baby steps." He says with a smirk, perhaps not the most encouraging thing to hear from the guy you're partially trusting your life to.

Melinda May has posed:
May looks skeptical, and eyes Arthur sideways when he suggests the raft is a canoe. "Just keep it upright," she tells him, sounding a little dubious. She drops down lightly onto it, natural grace allowing her to keep her footing and not risk capsizing the thing. She pushes her bound hair back into the hood and draws it up, but leaves the facemask hanging for the moment. Easier to communicate without it.

Checking a sensor on her wrist, she wrinkes her nose. Reaching into a small compartment on her belt, she pulls out a dart like object and flips it lightly. It soars up out of the hole to land with a soft 'thk', embedding itself in one of the wall pillars above. "Signal booster," she tells him. "Sensors are shit down here, otherwise."

She then crouches down in the middle of the raft and keeps one hand on her rifle, the other a loose fist as she checks the sensor readings on her wrist once more.

"Right. Let's go."

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Are SHIELD agents allowed to swear?" Arthur asks as he begins to swim in the murky water, drifting backwards for a time so he can look at her with a twist of a smirk. "You learn something new every day."
    After he says that he turns back and then disappears for a moment beneath the murky surface even as they make their way forward. It's a steady progression, and the raft she'll find moves along at a good clip. Not too fast, nothing near approaching a speedboat, but the ease of having perhaps invisible rowers that drift her along.
    A minute passes before he rises and she'll hear his voice, "Nothing living here, no fish, no animals. This place gives me a bad vibe." As he says that he rests an arm on the raft/canoe, and continues along the way, looking to the side as they progress.
    "Let me know if you get anything, I'm getting no draws one way or the other."

Melinda May has posed:
May doesn't bother answering the question.

"Scans suggest there were tunnels splitting off ahead. Let's take a look," she suggests presently. As they go deeper, the light grows dimmer. She switches on a shoulder lamp to make it easier for her to see at least a little. "The mages said something about necromantic magic," she tells him. "I expect we've more to fear from dead things than living." Even so, as they head further downstream, the water becomes more choked with ice and debris.

The tunnels ahead are partially filled with water, when they reach the junction. But the ice is oddly confined to the single stream they flow along. "Can you sense where that water goes?" she asks curiously. "How far?"

Arthur Curry has posed:
    "Feels like..." Arthur bobs along with the boat as they continue to ride along, "Things get more congested the further we go along this route, the main one a few blocks toward that..." He looks over his shoulder at her, "That old warehouse on 34th maybe."
    But then he motions with one hand to the side, "Some of these branch off to other parts of the neighborhood. That housing project on the North side. That middle school." He motions towards each branch. Then he shakes his head, "I can't make rhyme nor reason the why of it. But this path definitely..."
    He nods, "Stronger resistance. More ice, somehow feels."
    Arthur frowns as he only then looks back at her, "Denser."
    They continue on.

Melinda May has posed:
As they slug their way further downstream towards the warehouse, the ice grows thicker and harder to negotiate. The shape of it changes along with its consistency. The river, almost a glacier by this point, is thick enough to walk on. May carefully stands up and angles her light to see better up into the darkness ahead. Coiled deep in the shadowy recesses ahead is... something. Its yellow eyes open, gleaming. It's maw opens, fangs dripping -- not so much with venom but with fluid so cold it can freeze flesh almost instantly.

"Aw, hell..."

As May swings her rifle up towards it, it lashes out with lightning speed towards her.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Lightning quick speed requires lightning quick reflexes as that snake leaps forward, fangs bared and icy hiss leaving a trail of shards in its wake as it freezes the water in the air with such intense chill. But Arthur is a touch faster, extending one strong arm and grasping... only to have the thing /bite/ down on his limb, the flesh quickly turning pale as a sheen of ice freezes into place over the clamped limb.
    "Son of a bitch!" Arthur's curse is loud as he snaps his hand back, pulling the entire thing, trying to pin it to the ground with his other arm. But once he's got it down he's planting a knee in its side to pin it...
    And starts to just whale on the creature with his free hand, trying to let it go. Yet it seems intent to hold on while it digs its fangs in deeper into the arm of the Atlantean.

Melinda May has posed:
May drops onto her back and rolls off the raft onto the firmer ground of the frozen flow, safely out of the way of the snake when Arthur blocks it from turning her into an hors d'oeuvre. Down on one knee, she brings the rifle to her shoulder and takes aim at the largest mass of its body. Her heat ray lights up the cave with an amber light and the creature thrashes its tail with the sudden shock of the fire licking up its frozen side.

It would pull away from Arthur, if it could, no doubt, but its fangs are stuck and its head is pinned. So its tail becomes whiplike, thrashing around the defacto cavern of ice and concrete.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    As May applies suitably lethal pressure and weapons-fire to the creature, Arthur sort of endures and bears it, though his face is twisted into such a determined scowl that it might be intimidating to see it aimed at something other than an ice hypno-snake. He holds on, smacking the thing now and again, then batters it into silence once it burns to death and then as he rises, yanking his arm free... he kicks it again.
    "Fuck." Apparently Justice Leaguers are allowed to curse as he makes a fist several times with that wounded arm, the ice still clinging to the surface of his forearm. He smacks at it with his uninjured hand and tries to bring it back to life though the wound is already closing.
    "You weren't kidding. Unfriendly place." As he says that he looks back at her, then back down the cavern/underway that leads yet deeper. "Shall we press on?"

Melinda May has posed:
May picks herself up and shines her light further down the tunnel. She gestures her assent. It's not quite 'Lead on', but its clear she's ready to proceed. She does, however, pause long enough to deploy another signal booster.

As they make their way further along the flow, she stops to look at the way debris is wedged and the swelling of the ground below them. "This cave is going to get narrower before it gets wider," she predicts. Her brows knit. That is going to make fighting very difficult, if they come up against any more icy constructs.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Still looking a little pensive, Arthur frowns and flexes that fist a few more times, perhaps expecting some sort of venom or testing to make sure no lasting damage was done. Yet for the size of its fangs, he creature does not seem to phase the Atlantean and eventually he turns away.
    A nod is given, "I'll keep on point, cover me as you can." Arthur looks sidelong at her and tilts his head, "If worse comes to worst we can always just blow the place apart and make a break for it." His lip twists a little, then looks back down the hall. But before he starts the trek again he gives a heavy /kick/ to the dead snake before he sets foot on the way down that frozen river.
    "You know, I bet Namor has people to do this sort of thing for him." He comments somewhat distractedly as he wends his way.

Melinda May has posed:
"You'd sooner be Namor?" May asks, a dark brow arching as she speaks. "A king, with all the diplomatic duties and burdens of head of state?" He doesn't really strike her as the 'uneasy lies the head that wears the crown' sort. More the 'smack 'em with a bar stool and toss 'em out on their ass' sort.

Which isn't to say he's less cultured than Namor (though... isn't he?). Or less effective. It's more to say Arthur's just a little more rough and tumble than the arrogant king.

Something tells her she'd sooner have the burly bearded behemoth at her back than the speedo sporting statesman. Go figure.

She's not wrong about the tunnel, though. The further in they go, the more cramped it gets. Then, ahead, May's light fogs out into a heavy mist that conceals everything. There's a sibilant sound ahead and she raises her rifle to her shoulder again. "So. How many of those things do you think are in this cave?" she asks, voice bearly above a whisper.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    A deep breath is taken as he walks along and then murmurs, "You're right. I really don't." His hand glides along an ice barrier beside him as he steps around it, boots crunching the ice understep as he moves, at least the tread is heavy enough to dig in. "I mean, you seen that guy's eyebrows?"
    But after that the undersea prince lets the topic fade as they move, his attention distanced and expression focused. A deep breath is taken. "A few dozen?"
    There's a pause as he reaches a hand out and then the ice of the wall starts to twist and swirl, slithering apart and melting somewhat into water that floats in the air and towards his hand, re-solidifying once it gets near his grip and twisting into the shape of a long trident as well as sliding into place over his body, creating a thin layer of what looks like may well be armor of a sort. Chilly, but hopefully effective.
    "I'll go in, and if after the ruckus you hear me give you the all clear you come on in. If not and you hear the ruckus stop and still some angry hissing, then run."
    A glance back given, a smirk, then he starts toward that opening.

Melinda May has posed:
Again, that dark brow arches. But as Arthur starts forward, May does recognize that the very fact he's carrying a melee weapon while she's got a ranged weapon does make his suggestion... not entirely wrong. Stay out of the fight? No. Stay out of the melee? Yes.

So, she sets herself up behind a pile of upjutting debris and sets her rifle up. The face mask she brought gets put into place, partly because that enables her to use different visual spectrums to try to see through the particulates in the air. It's not perfect. The snakes are *cold*. The air is *cold*. Everything is *cold*. So, infrared isn't a terrific option. But when she takes a sensor spike and tosses it up into the ceiling, where it anchors itself and starts pinging out radar for her... That helps.

A lot.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    Turning back to her just a moment before pushing in, Arthur looks back at her and gives a thumbs up with an inclined eyebrow, waiting for her to return it. And once she does, then... and only then, does he start that foray. It's a crunch of boots in the ice, and a /shing/ of icy weaponry made ready before he sets on that path.
    Out he goes, moving into that space with the hisses and the slithering, trying to draw the attention by advancing several long strides and then stopping to /bang/ the haft of his ice trident upon the ground as he roars.
    "Alright you serpentine screwheads, listen up!"
    He looks around, turning his head one way and the other, doing a good job in not meeting the eyes of any of the creatures for too long. "You snakes have been here too long, and just consider me good St. Patrick! So come and get some!"
    There, hopefully that'll work.

Melinda May has posed:
May gives Arthur a brief thumbs up when she's set. As he wades into the thick of it, she takes aim at some of the most outlying critters writhing across the frost at the back edge of the nest -- about as far from herself as she can safely fire in this confined space. Her aim is good. But each shot takes a while to melt the hides of the critters. And once one is hit, the others start getting riled up.

Between the Atlantean and the Asian, the whole lot of them are more than a mite tetchy.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    It is abrupt chaos, the light flickering, the slithering monstrosities seeming to surge forth from the crevices and cracks in the ice and in the cavernous area. Just wisting hissing malevolent creatures that seek the death of this creature thing that dares to cross into their territory.
    An angry serpent's face slashes across Arthur, only to be pinned to the ground by a quick stab of that frosty trident. Another bites onto his leg, digging its fang into the armor plates, then being ripped asunder by a heavy hand grabbing it by the base of its 'neck' and spun around to beat some of the other snakes nearby with its body.
    The hissing rises, more and more of the snakes in various shapes and sizes start to surge forth, coming into view. For May it's likely a shooting gallery, a mass of slithering madness that is all trying to consume and destroy the man from Atlantis (Maine).
    "This all you go?!" Arthur roars, stabbing down with the trident, killing another creature, then slashing across the icy neck of another. The weapon blurs, stabbing one way, another, the butt slamming into the heads of various monstrosities.
    Slowly they start to seem to mob the man, hanging from his limbs, leaping in trying to get hold. More and more surging closer, some not able to reach him since there are just so many.
    Until finally there is a roar from the man, that trident held aloft and his eyes flashing golden until it's enough to illuminate the entire cavern...
    And then all of the ice in the ceiling and the walls and the ground around those snakes sharpen instantly to hundreds of spikes and stakes and spears that thrust up down sideways into the bodies of the monsters, creating a horrible hazard of a room like some giant iron maiden composed of ice. It all happens in a single moment, a loud /SHING!/ is heard, and then the soft /SLLIKCH!/ of bodies... sliding slowly down the pikes and lying dead and unmoving.

Melinda May has posed:
May's primary goal is to reduce the number of opponents Arthur faces without hitting Arthur himself. To that end, she continues to shoot the perimeter of the creatures -- though it's an increasingly shrinking perimeter. She has that heat ray stuck on high and the melt water from the bodies she's destroyed so far becomes runnels of warm water that erodes the frozen subterranian landscape further... and gives Arthur more material to easily play with.

Of course, once the snakes swarm the man, they become a knot of writhing, icy flesh and she has to concentrate her rifle fire on the main mass. So, instead of a continuous beam, she switches to a pulse and starts aiming for heads and hearts... as well as she can given the fog and the water and the twisting bodies.

Thank god for radar.

Arthur Curry has posed:
    It's a maddening battle for a time, and then just as quickly as it started. It's over, with the creatures falling, corpses sliding, some monstrosities twisting in their death throes, long sinuous bodies curling around the spikes. Then with another /shing/ the spikes all fade from view, slithering back into place as if the ice merely flexed itself into those vicious shapes and then settled back down.
    Turning away, Arthur grimaces, covered in a good bit of ichor from the creatures. He shakes his head, "This... was a mess." The trident makes a loud thunk as he sets its haft down upon the head of one dead snake even as he looks for May, "Think the resistance will be worse the further we head in."

Melinda May has posed:
May retreats far enough that the mist is no longer quite the same thick fog it is down in the basin of snowy, serpentine death. She pulls of her mask, letting it dangle about her shoulders again. "I think so, too," she agrees. She slings her rifle back and checks the sensors on her forearm. The sensor spike above serves double duty as a signal booster and she can now get something of an overlay of the city above in addition to this tunnel below.

"At least we have some sense of where the thing is going," she says, looking at her readings. "I suppose it will have to do."

She inhales a deep breath, but the air is moist and ionized. So, she coughs some and lets out a chuff of irritation. She *can't* breath in water, after all. "And there's no sign of any prisoners anywhere, either..." Which means Vega, the kid's 'dad', is stilll MIA. She shakes her head. "C'mon. Let's get out of here."