Anything, anything... Ken casts about himself desperately for a few moments for something that looks like he could tie a wire to (something that isn't unsteady, or on fire--) before his gaze alights, again, on the handrail before him, and at that he almost laughs again. Talk about being unable to see for looking. He leans back over it, looking back down at Youji and he looks very small from up here, almost smaller than he had done when Ken looked away from him but that's not possible, it's the fear and it's the flame, it's doing things to his mind that just don't make any--
"Yeah," he shouts - it's as good a way as any to distract himself from his fear. "There's a handrail, I can--"
And he's coughing again, convulsively, doubling over: he hopes Youji will just go with it, won't ask him to elaborate. The smoke burns his eyes, it burns his lungs and couldn't that kill you as sure as the flames could, just breathing in smoke? He thinks, there was something like that.
On a blazing walkway girdling the walls of the room, a figure swims through the smoke. Walking through fire without a burn, it glides slowly toward the mouthway of the catwalk - and stops there, waiting quiet and patient as a man with nowhere particular to go would wait for a bus or a train, and as it waits it turns its blank, blameless face toward Ken. Ken raises his head, gasping: though he can make out none of the details of the stranger's face the man, he is sure, is looking right at him. No, not looking but watching, watching and waiting to see what he'll do next--
"I'll figure something out!" He shouts to Youji. "Just throw it!"
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Date: 2010-03-28 07:05 am (UTC)"Yeah," he shouts - it's as good a way as any to distract himself from his fear. "There's a handrail, I can--"
And he's coughing again, convulsively, doubling over: he hopes Youji will just go with it, won't ask him to elaborate. The smoke burns his eyes, it burns his lungs and couldn't that kill you as sure as the flames could, just breathing in smoke? He thinks, there was something like that.
On a blazing walkway girdling the walls of the room, a figure swims through the smoke. Walking through fire without a burn, it glides slowly toward the mouthway of the catwalk - and stops there, waiting quiet and patient as a man with nowhere particular to go would wait for a bus or a train, and as it waits it turns its blank, blameless face toward Ken. Ken raises his head, gasping: though he can make out none of the details of the stranger's face the man, he is sure, is looking right at him. No, not looking but watching, watching and waiting to see what he'll do next--
"I'll figure something out!" He shouts to Youji. "Just throw it!"