There isn't much to say of this downward descent, except that his wariness about a second round of spike traps isn't an unfounded thing after all; grinding stone is his first warning for a ceiling about to collapse, and then an approaching cascade of bricks and dust from which there is surely no returning.

Naturally, Menkheperre takes to a much more hurried pace, skipping down the stairs until he's about to bump into one of the stragglers. He slows down before he does actually bump into her— (secondhand source of embarrassment or not, he does owe it to her for redirecting Audland's attention)— and finds himself feeling further slowed down in a most peculiar way. A curious "Huh?" slips out between his panting breaths, before he urges Thalia on with a hasty "Come on—"; trying to speed the two of them along with his long-legged advantage and splayed wings (which is risky, yes, but better than getting dust in either of their eyes right?).

When they reach the bottom of the stairs, he's quick to step out from the odd bubble that she exists in— (though he's quietly making a note to study that later, because she hadn't been so slowed before—) and turn his untrained assessment of her state of health toward the rest of the new chamber they've come to.

It's another chamber full of an uninteresting amount of treasure, and Menkheperre begins to wonder if he's traipsed into the wrong dungeon after all. His coloring books would have gone up in flames or gotten soaked otherwise, though, he's sure but...

Careful claws and his still-glittering light pick through the coins, searching for something like a backpack this time. Bonus to such a find if there was something other than bones and dust inside ...

She arrived... later, if only "thanks" to the enchantment on her stupid flute. The big dragon fella, Menkheperre--he was nice, and TRIED to help. She was pretty sure she just slowed him down, too, since suddenly he was moving at normal speed. But they made it. They DID make it. Tumbling stone, sure, but nothing serious!

She bent down, hands on knees, panting.

"Thanks. Oof."

It took her a moment to get her breath, and then Thalia looked up and around. Oh--more treasure? Everyone was already looting--this DAMN flute-...

The... satyr? Faun? rushed to catch up, going straight for the biggest chest. Maybe some kind of jewelry? Some cool decorative, minor armor? Another, BETTER musical instrument that wouldn't screw her over?

Was informed OOCly that Menkheperre would try and help her move faster! ... :)

Mai was somewhat surprised when they stumbled upon yet another treasure room, just like the one from the previous room. She supposed it DID made sense- this was supposed to be a fairly easy 'training' dungeon- and she wasn't going to complain about the extra loot, either.

She still wasn't looking for anything in particular, just sort of curiously digging around in the mounds of treasure near the largest chest.

Nobody would've seen this coming.* The huge chest, gleaming with gold, suddenly SNAPPED shut: then it was rising up on tentacles sprouting from beneath it, chomping savagely as it lunged for the Gembounds.

A MIMIC!

It leapt, striking a few of them fairly hard with a simple body blow. But it was the same sort of body blow one might encounter walking into a doorframe, or the edge of a table: a wooden corner, painful, plus the massive force behind it. The mimic smashed a glancing blow against Genghis, Menkheperre, Thalia, and Mai, barely missed smashing Callista in its (suddenly sprouting and VERY LARGE) teeth, and--oh.

Spark was inside it. Snatched up in the Mimic's enormous jaws, thrown about with every tentacled leap, being thrown around inside its snapping lid along with numerous gemstones, bits of jewelry, and half a ton of coins.

Now the would-be chest was going wild, leaping around the room, trying to add other Gembounds to its midday snack.

---

OH SHI-
A MIMIC

The Mimic Chest is attempting to consume Spark, who is snapped up inside of it. It is also leaping wildly around, trying to snatch up additional Gembounds. Characters should roll to take any action they wish.

Failures will be struck by the rampaging mimic. Critical Failures will be added to its maw. Spark may roll to attempt to escape, or others may roll to try and rescue them!


Yew should double-post to catch up before posting for this round.

---

The next post will take place on July 10th in the afternoon/evening GMT.

@Genghis @Halcyon @Spark @V-Chaos-Eleven @Fleas @Callista @Angel @Yew @Menkheperre @Mai @Audland @Thalia @Zephiran

* except everyone who did

Spark was rummaging through the treasure within, picking through it all with delicate care. They'd find something. They'd find the best thing. Though this search proved more difficult with higher standards. They bent forward, almost half-in the chest as they-

"OW!" They yelped, mostly offended that someone had the audacity to close the lid on them. But that indignation was quickly forgotten as they found themselves trapped completely in a small, dark space that was... moving? And quite rapidly-

Spark bounced and slammed and scrabbled against the wooden walls as they were pummeled by the very treasure they'd been perusing just a moment before. Their elytra buzzed in panic. It sounded like the mimic had swallowed a bee.

But there was light from above, where the lid was snapping open and closed again - were those teeth? They clawed desperately upward, wings provided some much needed lift as they shot outward. But not before the jaws closed again on their tail. Yeowch.

Barely processing the new, bleeding bite mark, they scrambled to press up against a wall. They'd gotten out, and they did NOT plan to go back anytime soon.

Maybe she should've seen this one coming. Nothing was ever this easy.

The lid snapped down inches away from her nostrils, and she scrambled back in shock. If this had been a normal chest, it would've been an overreaction. But this was not a normal chest, and Eleven had, in fact, been quite wise.

But it wasn't ALL wood and metal. She eyed those organic-looking tentacles below it as it began to bounce wildly around. A target.

She shot forward, hoping to bite down on one of them. Eleven was not planning on letting go, either.

Upon his search, a loud roaring came from the largest pile of collectibles. A mimic chest roared, trying to snoop up the closest gembound. The fur on his neck rose in fear. Tentacles swooped out of its.. mouth? The opening of the chest. Coins and items flared around, sharp razor teeth looked like it was trying to engulf the gembound. Who just barely scraped by its teeth.

Silver paws tried to scrape themselves against the loot on the ground. Finding any footing he could to try and stand his ground. Doing what he could to try and summon his power Pride showed him.. Alas.. Nothing happened. The shield did not appear. A stutter of failure. His heart raced in his chest. Zephiran did not know what to do. Should he run? Should he fight? What the hell does he do against a raging chest?

(I will come back later to edit his damages. He's frozen in fear from a large object being alive.)

---

"Speaking"

( @ Nah )

[Catch-Up Post]

The others must see something that Yew doesn't, because as some of the others move out of the way, Yew is tugged to the side quickly by Genghis. She dusts herself off with a clawed-foot, and nods her head. "Y-es-s"

That could've been bad.

Instead she gets to go on her way to scrounge through, like the rest of them before running to catch up.

@Genghis (Mentioned)

When Yew catches up with the rest of them... Something happens. There's a thing and its hungry. Yew does not like it when things are hungry. She's scared, doesn't know what to do. it's been so long since Yew's had to fight anything - and there's nothing she can do except for use force.

Yew has no usable magic for this. She flexes her paws into the dirt below her. Memories of her mother flood Yew's mind. She'll never be good enough.

Mercy's face replaces hers. She knows she can be better.

A hinge snaps shut, and Menkheperre doesn't immediately take notice. It's likely a more greedy explorer planning to take a whole chest with them— CHOMP! CHOMP! SNAP! SNAP! "What!?"

The Valkhound performs his best impression of a cat, then; pivoting on the spot and arching his back as the chest (A MIMIC! We're following some tropes after all!) launches for him in specific and inflicts upon him a familiar misery increased tenfold: the feeling of having struck one of his funny bones on the edge of a table. Menkheperre throws his head back, trying his best not to cry. Oh, the humanity.

It is a double-edged blessing that the mimic has other targets in the room to inflict such a torturous pain onto. Positive for him, because those teeth are not attempting to see if he can be crumpled into such a small ball to be contained within; negative for the others, because they are also facing the unstoppable force of an object as immovable as a doorframe, or an untimely visit to the jaws of death.

Steeling himself against the numbing pain of his elbow, Menkheperre reaches for the rampaging chest with his magic while he can still see it— because his personal light's going out with the redirected focus— and hoist it up into the air where it (reasonably) can't stub anyone else's elbows or toes.

... or sweep himself up into the air instead. That's markedly more unhelpful, especially when a pile of coins and jewelry goes scattering with his landing on his back and the chest terrifyingly comes hurtling back toward him with a jaw-snapping vengeance, mouth apparently empty and very capable of fitting enough of him to drag him around for a bruising and battering trip around the room.

Menkheperre can only manage to yelp as it tries to snaps him up more, and again as its teeth snag on his mane and keep a few tufts of it like trophies.