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Okay, good news first: you manage to avoid goring yourself on the spikes. Slashing at the gauntlet of spikes and pointy bits as you go, your armor suffers a few nicks and scrapes, but nothing you’ll have to worry about.
The bad news, or <span class="mu-i">badder</span> news, lies below you–amidst a shroud of steam thick enough to carve through with a butter knife lies the wreckage of something big, wooden, and unpleasantly jagged. It takes you a moment, but as your fall takes you closer to the bottom, you suddenly identify it as the remains of some kind of-
“<span class="mu-r">FRUUUUUUUUIIIIIT CAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRT!</span>”
Yes, Ly, A.K.A ‘<span class="mu-i">CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!</span>’ Before you can correct your trajectory, you end up landing with a sickening ‘<span class="mu-i">CRUNCH</span>’ on a particularly-jagged hunk of wood–one that probably would have disemboweled you if you didn’t have all this nifty <span class="mu-g">BONE ARMOR</span> of yours! What a relief, huh?
“Still hurts like hell, cupcake.” Hisses your skeleton through clenched teeth. Yep, you groan as pain shoots past your armor and throughout your chest, it sure does! Rolling off of the wooden debris, you take a moment to catch your breath amidst the steam cloud as you watch the second member of the team descend into the pit! Like a purple-haired leaf on the wind, Sybil gracefully floats to the bottom, dicing the spikes you missed with a conjured <span class="mu-b">RADIANT BLADE</span> from her hand.
“Are you alright, Stan?” She asks as she gently lands and bends over to examine you. “You aren’t injured, are you?”
No, you grunt, still lying on the ground, you’re good… so <span class="mu-i">that’s</span> what she’s wearing underneath that sweater, hu-
“<span class="mu-i">Quit it.</span>” She snarls as she delivers a swift kick to your ribs. “And get up–Gus should be with us at any mom-”
While Syb landed like a leaf, Gus lands like a <span class="mu-i">brick</span>--the two of you barely have time to clear the LZ before the pizza man hits the ground feet-first with an impact that would give a meteorite a run for its money! Reducing the fruit cart remains to splinters, Gus takes a moment to shake the debris from his shoes before looking your way expectantly.
“You ready?”
<span class="mu-i">Are</span> you?
>CONTD.
