exsiliumlogs | lights out!

[THAT EXPLAINS

nothing at all, yeah. But he'll take this guy's word for it.

He grabs the coat and slings it over one arm. He doesn't really appreciate being used as a coat rack, but Ed seems to know what he's doing, and Allen's more interested in what that might be. He doesn't say anything more for now, just watches curiously...]

[What he's doing right now is inspecting one of the doors. He looks it up and down, taps it a few times, then places his left hand flat against it and peers as closely as he can in the uneven blue glow. This thing was built well over a millennium after the most advanced tech he used to be familiar with, so it might be a tall order expecting to get the composition of it exactly right first time, but how different could you possibly make a door? Besides, he's never cared much about tall.

After maybe half a minute of this, which was probably truly scintillating to watch, he claps again and presses both of his palms to the door. There's another burst of light, accompanied by a louder crackle than before, but this time neither of them last; a couple of seconds later, all that's left is an afterimage. Apparently the answer to the above question is "different enough".]

Damn.

[He puts a hand to his chin in thought and, presently, still paying no attention to his newly obtained coat rack, takes a step back to look the door over again.]

[During the aforementioned minute and a half, Allen begins to wonder about the mental state of his companion. Why is he feeling the door? It's just a door. Is he trying to open it...?

This time, when Ed claps his hands, Allen has some idea what to expect, and throws his arm over his eyes briefly.

But the end result is a little underwhelming. Might be time for Allen to take matters into his own hands, he figures, before they waste too much more time in here.]

Are you trying to break it open? [What good would that do, though, if they're between floors?] I believe that... I could find another way out, if you're all right with a bit of climbing.

[Ed turns to look behind him, a little disgruntled.] Oh, now you're full of ideas? So what's your plan?

Well, [a short pause, and he gestures upwards] I could break the ceiling open.

[He raises an eyebrow.] In a way that won't just send this whole box plummeting down the shaft? 'Cause that's more than a minor detail, you know.

[It's a risk that's occurred to him, but he doesn't appear too worried.]

It's held by a rope, isn't it? I'll do my best not to sever it.

But, ah, should it fall, I could make certain we wouldn't go down with it. [Probably.

Hopefully.]

Certain. Sure, that sounds reasonable. [He lets out a huff.] Alright, just give me another shot at this, and...

[This is the most convenient possible moment for the crackling along his arm to cease and the blue glow to die down, plunging the elevator into darkness again.

Ed quickly brings his hands together before the light fades altogether and sets it off a second time. The noise is still part of the package, though, and whether or not these transmutations are doing permanent damage to his automail, it's clear from even his shadowed expression that this whole situation is wearing away at something.]

...Or do what you want. But give me my coat back first if you're hoping to try anything funny, okay?

[Because what he's doing isn't funny at all, duh.]

[He gladly tosses the coat back Ed's way.]

This should only take a moment.

[From Allen's side of the elevator, there's a split-second burst of green-white light, as the fingers of his left hand extend smoothly into five razor-sharp blades, and a bright white hooded cape settles itself around his shoulders. And without missing a beat, the end of the cape splits into a handful of ribbons, which shoot up towards the ceiling of the elevator and latch to the metal like thick spider webbing, pulling Allen up along with them.

Now he's just gotta cut a sizable hole in the ceiling, and he'll have them out of there in a jiffy...]

[Ed can't quite decide whether to look impressed or indignant at getting upstaged as he watches the display, his second attempt at tunnelling through the door behind him temporarily forgotten. Either way, though, he's not about to look away as the kid gets to work on the ceiling, if only to ensure himself a moment's warning before they both fall to their death.

He lets out a low whistle.] You're not a chimera by any chance, are you?

[Naturally, there's no way distracting somebody with a handful of blades could turn out to be a bad idea.]

[Allen gets to work removing the metal and plastic and wiring in the way, tearing through it like paper. Loud, heavy paper that smashes into the elevator cab floor in twisted chunks. There might've been a neater way to go about this, but he doesn't seem to concerned. He pauses for a second, though, to look back down at Ed with one eyebrow raised.]

Chimera...? I'm an Exorcist.

[OB...VIOUSLY...]

A what? [He has to raise his voice over the noise just to hear himself. Sheesh, his way would've been so much more efficient. ...Okay, technically nothing is stopping him from trying to tunnel out of the elevator again, but it turns out that not getting bludgeoned by debris kind of takes up a lot of concentration.] What kind of preachers do you -

[His sentence and train of thought are derailed by one jagged ribbon of metal falling through the air maybe half an inch away from the end of his nose, which is probably just as well. He jerks his head back sharply.]

Hey, watch what you're doing!

[Creating debris also takes a bit of concentration, and he doesn't get a chance to answer any of Ed's half-asked questions.]

Sorry, I'm sorry! Please stand back! [WHOOPS... It's difficult to watch much of anything at the moment!!

It hardly takes a minute before he's got a nice hole carved in the ceiling, though, large enough to crawl through. And he does so, pulling himself up out of sight and onto the top of the cab, the white cape he'd worn fading into thin air.

And he calls back down:]

Do you need help getting up here?

[Standing back is also easier said than done; it's a relief when the noise stops and he can stop pressing himself back against the wall. He exhales.] ...Nah, give me a second. Although, you know, you really oughta clean up your own junk...

[He slings his coat over his shoulder to free up his arms without covering up the light (maybe it would be a bit more pragmatic to just leave it here, but coats are cool, okay), crouches and claps again. The debris covering the floor gathers together in front of him and reforms into a single solid rectangular block, which turns out to be... not quite tall enough for him to do much more than hook his automail hand over the edge of the hole.

But admitting that would be the same as admitting he overestimated his height just now, so rather than asking for a hand up right away, he struggles ineffectually for a bit.]

[Allen stands back, unable to see what Ed might be doing down there, but he can hear him clap again, and then

something. What is this guy up to?

When he sees the hand grip the edge of the hole, Allen peeks down at Ed, eyebrows shooting up— but in lieu of asking how he'd managed to acquire a makeshift footstool on such short notice, he grabs for Ed's hand, to help haul him up.]

Here...

[He's somewhat heavier than his size and build might suggest, but with Allen pulling as well he manages to find a handhold on the other side of the hole and heave himself the rest of the way, more or less falling onto the roof.

It takes him a few moments to pick himself and his coat up.]

Uh... thanks. [He sounds less than completely grateful.] Okay, now what?

[He tries to squint up the elevator shaft. The light still being emitted from his gently crackling arm suddenly seems even less helpful than before.]

lights out!

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