Just how far would you like to run

[totallytrustworthy]

Date & Time: 9/10 + 1:30pm. Hottest time of the day in the desert. Enjoy.
Location: Cairo, Egypt
Characters: Chloe Frazer, Charlie Cutter
Summary: Get in, steal some ancient, sacred artifacts pertaining to the Book of the Dead and a couple of spare canopic jars, party hard and start some trouble. 
Warnings: Extreme stupidity


When the swirl of dust from displacement settles along with the slight nausea rolling around at the lowest point of her stomach-- when Chloe shakes off the memory of exsilium under the heat of midday sun on her skin-- making the leap from future to past is routine enough these days that she skips the shock and awe, moving to give both herself and her surroundings  a quick, efficient evaluation. They're not far off from the city (Cairo, according to the briefing) but the distance serves as a decent enough buffer as the pair get their bearings. 

Better than being shoved feet-first into over crowded streets, in her opinion.

"Jesus, Charlie." She's halfway through patting down the almost too-taut fabric of her Initiative-donated linen dress by the time he finally grabs her attention. "You've got hair."

 

Comments

[alittlesweptup]

He should be used to this sort of nonsense by now - been here nearly a full bloody year, you think his stomach would be acclimated to it. But the nausea immediately following the trip jumps high in his throat and Charlie has to take a moment to orient himself at the heat and the sun hits him at the same time. He stands for a moment, bent over with his hands on his knees and contemplating the sand, until it passes and his stomach settles - doesn't glance up until she starts talking and--

Oh right. Egyptians and wigs. "And it itches like a bastard. C'mon, I'll be burnt to a crisp if we stay out here too long." He's too pasty for this shit.

[totallytrustworthy]

"Bastards itch often, do they?" She asks, lips curling into a wry grin. There's about ten pounds of gold beaded jewelry weighing her down, and despite loving the feel of it, she's nearly up to her ankles in sand. Makes trudging through it a trial and a half.

[alittlesweptup]

"Yeah, yeah. Come along, dear." He sets off at a brisk pace - or as brisk as the terrain and his footwear allows. He's sure he can already feel the back of his neck beginning to burn in the midday sun. Should've asked for a morning trip in.

They had four days to get into Cairo, do some digging about, secure a plan and then get to lifting what they needed to bring back for their client. The fact that the Initiative wanted them to destroy a few scrolls while they were in the city was simply a (terribly depressing) footnote to an otherwise appealing trip to the past.

[totallytrustworthy]

He earns himself a frown directed square at the back of his head for two reasons: One, keeping up with his set pace is near impossible in her current outfit and two, "You didn't even let me finish my joke."

Still, with her fists wound up in the hem of the dress, tugging it to a more suitable hiking height as they close in on the far edges of the city, she supposes it's still not as bad as that god-awful corset from the 1800s. "Seriously I had a good punch line for that and everything."

[alittlesweptup]

He half turns, shortening his stride marginally as he shoots her a look over his shoulder. He wrinkles his nose at her: "Oh, well. Go on then. Don't let me stop you."

[totallytrustworthy]

"No, no. Too late now." The hand closest to his side moves in, she pats the small of his back as a sign that he's forgiven for his unintended comedic transgressions. Probably because she imagines that's the last time she'll touch that-- or any other-- part of him before it's bright lobster red.

"So the question is: do we want to work first or work last?"

[alittlesweptup]

"Well then you're disallowed from bringing it up again as I allowed for time to fix the problem." So no griping about it later, Chloe. As for the rest-- he makes his way down the bank of sand, cutting through the scrub brush just above the stone wash and the cut of the road leading to the east gate of the city.

"My vote's for finding a spot of shade and something to eat. Missed breakfast this morning." Which is a lie, but it had been a small breakfast and not one that had taken well to the whole jumping through time and space bit.

[totallytrustworthy]

"Disallowed, yeah? Have to wonder what happens when that rule gets broken."

You know, because it will. And shit if this linen isn't half as comfortable as her old worn leather, but fine, she's not complaining. Out loud anyway. Chloe kicks the dust off her feet once the solid, compact earth of the road is under her sandals. Resists the urge to stare at passing traffic as they close in on distant shapes. "Well if they really do eat outdoors here, we'll have trouble finding enough shade for someone your size."

[alittlesweptup]

"Oi, careful. You'll give me a complex." He pats his stomach, cheerful enough as they slide in with the rabble making their way for the gate. They'll hit the shade cast by the city's massive wall soon; things are looking up.

[totallytrustworthy]

It's not the sight of civilization that quicken's Chloe's pace, it's the smell-- or at least the smell of something being charred. She doesn't presume many businesses would set up camp on the outskirts of the city, but houses, families, workers-- seems like their sort of deal. And it has her stomach growling.

"Thank god the Initiative gives us spending money." Looming stone arches distract her briefly, as does the crowd about them. "I'm too bloody hungry to con myself a meal along with everything else."

[alittlesweptup]

Charlie makes a low noise, taps Initiative-issued wristwatch (currently disguised as a heavy bangle). "Handy to have a translator on hand as well." Means it'll be easier to get a solid meal at any rate. Cons he can run without the common denominator of language. Clarifying what sort of meat something's made with? Harder to gauge without it.

There are men at the gates, but getting into the city isn't an issue. The press of bodies is immediate though and Charlie falls back: a half step behind her. He's a big man and people get out of his way, but he'd much rather have her walking in front of him until-- "There." Charlie taps her shoulder, motioning to a narrow side street crowded with merchants.

[totallytrustworthy]

As if Chloe's about to get picky with her meals.

The turn off's immediate and sharp once he taps her; Chloe breaks away from the din to duck down into that narrow passageway, sheltered from the searing sun by buildings and strung fabric. "You're really planning on doing the talking, are you?"

[alittlesweptup]

"Well if you'd rather do it yourself--" Charlie ducks his way through the side street market, feeling painfully conspicuous as they go until finally ducking in under an awning smelling strongly of some kind of roasted meat.

From there he doesn't give her much of a choice, shouldering his way through to secure them some form of lunch. By the time he gets back to her, passing off a small loaf of dense bread and a very small piece of what was probably chicken, he seems well enough in his element. One foreign market place is much like another, radical timeline difference or no.

"Pretty sure I just got ripped off."

[totallytrustworthy]

They've had time-- and plenty of it-- to chase down leads with all the enthusiasm of kids at play. For better or worse (though Chloe suspects better, given their limited time) the temple housing the scrolls is in the dead center of the city, no more than a fifteen minute walk from their purchased room.

No alarms, limited technology, it'd be a bloody dream job if not for the knowledge that trying to sell the idea of a Roman strolling through the front gates is about as unthinkable as it gets.

But they haven't got time to wait for the locals to change their views on the matter. It's all in or not at all once the sun sets.

[alittlesweptup]

He insists on a quick bite to eat before it gets full dark - if they're going to have to go sprinting down dark, unfamiliar streets in the middle of the night after destroying some ancient artifacts, Charlie isn't going to do it on an empty stomach. But that's about as much preparation at the job really warrants outside spending a swath of the day perched on a rooftop watching the people going in and out of the temple gates and through the yard. He'd done his best to stay out of the sun, but there's no denying that by go time he's decidedly more... crispy.

"Let's get this over with," he mutters, falling in step behind her as they move. At least that way if someone takes notice of them, they might be convinced he's only here out of some debt owed to the lady.

[totallytrustworthy]

There are pros and cons to the smooth, hand-carved stone that surrounds the temple on every side save for the heavily watched main gate. Plus being that the stone is softer than marble-- easier to chip off without a jackhammer alerting the neighbors-- downside being that if they mean to get in without causing a scene they'll still need to hammer out more reliable handholds for the first half of the journey (where the stone is kept more manageable due to the fact that it is, after all, within arm's reach).

Luckily for them the Egyptians were big sun-worshippers. Sun goes down; streets go quiet.

Chloe leans against the western wall, wrapping cord around her forearm to tie off for the inevitable return trip down. Arms hopefully too full of spoils to be assed with gripping minor cracks.

"All clear?"

[alittlesweptup]

"As a summer day." The wall's not exactly short and while it could be worse, he's not Nathan bloody Drake - isn't really fit to be jamming his thick fingers in tiny crevices. Fortunately for them if they get a turn of bad luck and someone does come down this way, the thing that makes him stick out like a sore thumb may very well keep her hidden long enough to stop digging chunks out of the wall.

It's simple work, stupidly easy, but after this long even playing look out is oddly rewarding.

[totallytrustworthy]

"Right, then." She calls after a minute, flicking dust from her fingertips before they're swatted against her thighs. "Give me a boost, cowboy."

[alittlesweptup]

If there was ever a man made for giving boosts, it's Charlie Cutter. Coast clear, he knits his hands together and stoops to giver her a foothold. He's quick and quiet about it, hoisting her up quickly. "Got it?" It's a hiss in the dark, the soles of his shoes scraping on the dirt underfoot as he shifts marginally under her weight.

[totallytrustworthy]

"Yep." woven sandals finding a place on either shoulder, the grit of sand stuck under their soles and pinned against his irritated skin, Chloe balances herself out and sents to cutting a clear path upwards. Three minutes in and the gap between smooth to rough's farther than she'd initially imagined. A few toes dig into one of the freshly chiseled cracks. "Just a bit higher."

http://youtu.be/bVhcB9ucmdg?t=17s

[alittlesweptup]

And suddenly there's the first flaw in their plan because there's just nothing quite so unpleasant as having someone stand on your sunburn. Charlie makes a low grunting noise as she clambers up onto his shoulder, squinting hard at his feet to keep from getting any of the debris in his eyes. He thinks up the most creative string of swearing he can manage, teeth grit, and to his credit only hisses part of it out loud as she shifts one foot into the newly carved gaps.

"Look I'm a thief, not an escalator."

it's the only other climbing icon I have okay

[totallytrustworthy]

"And we'll both be on our asses if I can't hit this last spot--" which isn't going to happen on one foothold plus a lack of support while she's carving. Not unless she suddenly learns how to levitate (and if she did she wouldn't be chipping away at this god damn stone). "Higher, darling. C'mon."

mmmhmmmm

[alittlesweptup]

Growling under his breath, Charlie jams he hands under her other foot. It takes some bracing and some shoving the tender skin of his sunburned shoulder, but he manages to get his grip on the sole of her sandal again: lifting her up a few inches higher. "Quick as you can, love," he grits out, arms already starting to wobble somewhat precariously under her weight.

He makes a mental note to practice dead lifting her weight over his head once they get back to the island.

what a champ that Charlie Cutter

[totallytrustworthy]

"That's what...he said." Hard as it is (get it) to hammer away with her major support trembling under her heel, Chloe gets the job done in record time: tucks the tools away in the satchel at her waist before shoving her fingertips into the remaining handholds and clambering up along the last stretch left between her and the top of the wall.

And the dress? Definitely not helping.

The cord's tied off, tossed down, and while Charlie deals with her peace offering for tearing up his shoulders, Chloe works to tear the sides of her skirt with her hands.

[alittlesweptup]

He hisses out a low noise of relief the moment she's off his shoulder - has just enough time to try and examine the residual sting before she's tossing the line down to him. From there it's simple work to scale the wall, though wrapping the rope around his pink forearm is a similar brand of discomfort. The next time they're sent running off to Egypt, he's making a point to demand some sunscreen. How it slipped his mind in the first place--

He doesn't linger long at the top of the wall: quickly pulling the rope up and dropping it down along the other side. They're exposed here and the night's a clear one, bright enough from the half moon and glinting stars overhead. Charlie goes down first; his larger bulk sticks out like a sore thumb at the top of the wall and if they run into anyone on the other side he can probably be trusted to knock them out quickly enough.