On the one hand, it's reassuring that she gets the memo so fast, even without the benefit of him spelling it out to her. He watches her face, mostly, in case she speaks again. Deviates only to catch on to what she's doing with her phone. Smart girl.
Thumb's up, and then she's gone. If he gets the right angle on the window, he can see her disappearing around the right corner of the building. From then on...it's the waiting game. Somehow doesn't make him feel all that much better for having to do it. He's trying not to dwell on it, but there's a certain level of vulnerability (of trust) involved in putting your life in someone's hands. Historically, it hasn't worked out very well for him in the past. Safe to say, he's not having a great time, right now.
He makes himself busy fighting his way to the exit in the meantime. If she pulls through, he's going to want out asap. If she doesn't—well. He'll have to explore other options. Might as well start there. The water's creeping up to chest-level, by now, but the constant choppiness means the worst of it's already starting to try and break over his head, especially as he comes up against the door. If nothing else it keeps him busy enough that he hardly has the time to spare to wonder how she's doing. But then he hears it: the buzz of the alarm as it disengages. The click of a lock.
Well, what d'you know.
Unfortunately, the door is unlocked, but it swings inward. The combined water pressure won't make that easy very. But without the heavy-duty deadbolts or soundproof forcefields or whatever the fuck engaged that had been keeping him in before, he takes another swing at kicking it out. Takes a deep breath and grabs for a handhold on the rafters, gets as much leverage as he can, and swings both his boots onto the far end of the door with a loud bang.
Once. Twice. On the third, something gives. Creaks and bends and breaks just enough that the weight and the pressure of the water is enough to finish the job. The water wants out, and there's a lot of it. The door finally gives, and it does so dramatically. Like a cork in a bottle of champagne.
Hopefully Wanda isn't standing too close when it happens, or she'll have to put her reflexes to work. First to dodge the door, and the initial burst of the water, and also the guy she'd been trying to bust out. In his defense, it's pretty hard to see much of anything until the initial rush of water clears. And he'd had boots on the door when it'd broken free. (The current did most of the rest.) Suffice to say, he doesn't quite manage to nail the landing with any amount of grace.
no subject
On the one hand, it's reassuring that she gets the memo so fast, even without the benefit of him spelling it out to her. He watches her face, mostly, in case she speaks again. Deviates only to catch on to what she's doing with her phone. Smart girl.
Thumb's up, and then she's gone. If he gets the right angle on the window, he can see her disappearing around the right corner of the building. From then on...it's the waiting game. Somehow doesn't make him feel all that much better for having to do it. He's trying not to dwell on it, but there's a certain level of vulnerability (of trust) involved in putting your life in someone's hands. Historically, it hasn't worked out very well for him in the past. Safe to say, he's not having a great time, right now.
He makes himself busy fighting his way to the exit in the meantime. If she pulls through, he's going to want out asap. If she doesn't—well. He'll have to explore other options. Might as well start there. The water's creeping up to chest-level, by now, but the constant choppiness means the worst of it's already starting to try and break over his head, especially as he comes up against the door. If nothing else it keeps him busy enough that he hardly has the time to spare to wonder how she's doing. But then he hears it: the buzz of the alarm as it disengages. The click of a lock.
Well, what d'you know.
Unfortunately, the door is unlocked, but it swings inward. The combined water pressure won't make that easy very. But without the heavy-duty deadbolts or soundproof forcefields or whatever the fuck engaged that had been keeping him in before, he takes another swing at kicking it out. Takes a deep breath and grabs for a handhold on the rafters, gets as much leverage as he can, and swings both his boots onto the far end of the door with a loud bang.
Once. Twice. On the third, something gives. Creaks and bends and breaks just enough that the weight and the pressure of the water is enough to finish the job. The water wants out, and there's a lot of it. The door finally gives, and it does so dramatically. Like a cork in a bottle of champagne.
Hopefully Wanda isn't standing too close when it happens, or she'll have to put her reflexes to work. First to dodge the door, and the initial burst of the water, and also the guy she'd been trying to bust out. In his defense, it's pretty hard to see much of anything until the initial rush of water clears. And he'd had boots on the door when it'd broken free. (The current did most of the rest.) Suffice to say, he doesn't quite manage to nail the landing with any amount of grace.
All this to say: think fast, bud.]