As soon as there is life...

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“...there is danger."

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Robin grinned as she looked up into the sun. The image of the sun was diluted and wavery under the rolling and tossing surface of the waves, but bright and happy none-the-less. Suddenly, a tugging came from below, allowing Robin to roll her eyes. The only problem with the ocean was the constant tugging of the current. Robin allowed herself to be carried, eyes closed calmly as the waves bought her up close to the surface and carried her close to shore.

Ah, well. Robin smiled. It was almost high-noon, Pierre was bound to be here any second now. With a sudden flick of her flippered feet, Robin broke the surface of the wave as it reached it's peak of the roll, eyes wide and excited as she was suddenly overcome with the feeling of flight, a single droplet of water rolling with and through the wave. With a whoosh, Robin felt the tips of her legs skim the flowery sand of the bottom of the shallow bank. Robin thrust her arms out in front of her, catching herself from the painful drop that was sure to follow, and seemingly skimmed across the top of the finished wave and onto the bank below.

Flipping off of her stomach, Robin rolled over and scooted backward just in time for another wave's foam to lap at her feet. She kept moving backward until the sand became dry and flaky, and further back still until she had nearly run over her small water-tight backpack. Not necessarily water-proof, but water-tight none the less. Taking a heaving sigh of air, Robin let herself plop backward into the sand-- braid curling around on her shoulder and releasing eggs of water down onto her skin.

Smiling, Robin stared up at the sky with half-open blue eyes, until the sights of the large white clouds, vibrant sun, and blue-gray sky bored her, and she closed them. Robin was always happiest in the water. Why she had come down to the beach with a broken ankle in the first place seemed illogical-- but it explained alot. There are two things and two things only that can replenish the girl's powers if she has lost some by either giving it away, or practicing bending it. One: A donor of another life-force user. She can't heal herself, just like the rest of the world's can't re-create blood for themselves. Two: Water. It may sound strange and for what reason this works no one knows-- but it explains many things. Why Robin only drinks water, for instance, why she swims when injured, and why she had joined a swim-team at a young age.

Anyways, Robin was simply content to lay there until Pierre arrived-- no use wasting anymore energy. The twosome were planning on exploring the depths of the ocean, after having Pierre having solved some-sort of mystical puzzle orb that Robin had found yesterday. Hopefully this adventure would be contain nail-biting escapes, mystical creatures, awesomeness, peril, break-taking scenery, nearly-fatal-but-pretty-dang-cool-fight-scenes, and that twist at the end that leaves everyone flabbergasted with the heart-felt realization that we all had what we were looking for inside of us all along.

Hopefully.

[Pierre Antoine Giroux]

I’m told that people like to call us dreamers
Because we won’t ever stop until we’ve done all we can do
There are so many things I haven’t seen
So I’ll look ’till I just can’t look no more

So. Er. Adventure time. Alright, then.

It's not that Pierre had anything against what he and that sophomore girl -wwhatwashernamewhatwashername dammit!- were about to do, which involved many things including a wet suit and flippers and a extremely heavy set of extremely expensive scuba gear for two that he had paid for out of his own pocket and sincerely hoped fit the girl he was dragging himself and his stuff down the beach to. She was already flailing about in the water- good for her. That was one less wetsuit he didn't have to bring. And he didn't, anyway. So. Er. Yeah.

Honestly, the events yesterday had shaken him up a bit- never before had he opened something that went and aspolded in his face and turned into a cryptic magnetic arrow of freakyness.

And never before had he gone doing this sort of thing. He was calling it adventure time because he had no idea what else to call it.

He waved the girl down. "Hey!" He was already in his wet suit, but was walking down the surf in his runners. They were damp. Joy. The sun would dry them out, though. He made it to just below the sea wall, dumped his shoes and other non-essentials, and dragged the flippers and scuba gear down to the surf. "I hope you know how this stuff works, 'cause I think the manual is somewhere between my room and the mainland."

[Christina Ann Robins]

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"Depth must be hidden. Where? On the surface, of course!"

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Robin's eyes snapped open, and she quickly sat up-- waving cheerily. The water excersise had loosened her muscled and, in a sense, replenished her spirit. In other words, Robin was much more cherry-looking than she had two hours ago, limping to the beach, but that didn't matter. Now that Antonie was here, the girl's stomach started to churn with excitement. As Antonie laid the equipment out on the sand, she scurried up next to it with bright eyes, crouching half-way on one leg awkwardly. Not seeming to notice, she slowly, almost delicately, lifted the complex and expensive equipment up and let it slide like the golden warm sand below through her fingers.

"Where did you get this...?" The blond breathed, looking very excited and pleased to even be holding something this... this delicate in her hands. Suddenly, Robin's head snapped up toward Antoine with a curious expression. "You didn't buy this stuff-- did you? 'Cause I mean," the girl glanced down excitedly down at the equipment. "--this is some pretty good-quality equipment. And as for your question-- I do know how to work most of this equipment, most of it."

[Pierre Antoine Giroux]

I’m told that people like to call us dreamers
Because we won’t ever stop until we’ve done all we can do
There are so many things I haven’t seen
So I’ll look ’till I just can’t look no more

"Er... yes?" He had paid for it, all of it- just that the Canadian dollar was worth less than the American one, just now, so he had maybe, you know, cheated a bit, and the flippers were outside the store on a rack and he hadn't exactly paid for those... but he was a poor student, okay? He could have completely taken advantage of his gift and steal it all in the night, but he didn't, and that what counts. "I got it out of the mainland, this morning."

But this was besides the point. "How do you put this stuff on?" he asked, picking up a air tank quizzically. "And more importantly, where are we going?"

[Christina Ann Robins]

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"Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it."

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Robin stared up at him, quizzically, for a moment. Finally, after a long silence, she shook her head with a faint smile on her face. "Well, I'll have to pay you back. This stuff will come in handy-- all I brought was well, stuff for the dry-lands. First-aid, food, flash-light, camera..." Well, God knows where she's going to get the money to pay him back, but she will.

Sitting back on her knees, Robin lifted the bulky equipment up to examine it's true quality in the light. After a moment of thought, she sat the Buoyancy-Control Device, more commonly known as the BCD, around the actually tank and began to attach different hoses and tubes that had become disjolstled. "Actual scuba-equipment is going to come alot more in handy than these," From a seemingly non-existent pocket, Robin retrieved three metal contraptions that where no bigger than her palm. They resembled an inhaler a person prone to asthma might carry around. "They work the same like the actual scuba gear, except you hold this directly up to your mouth and it doesn't last as long."

Robin quickly tapped the air-valve with her finger-nail, making a dull 'clinking' sound. After a few seconds more, she had tested the air-flow and yada-yada-yada. Hoisting the bulky equipment off the ground, and cringing at it's weight, she strapped herself in and adjusted the straps so it wasn't too big. Glancing up, she motioned for Antonie to do the same. "Your gear checks out. We should have a good hour-and-a-half to swim along the bottom of the pool. We can't go too deep though, I don't want to have an issue with the bends-- or having to deal with those safety precautions. That would severely cut out swimming time, and can be fatal."

Suiting up completely after that, Robin eyed Antonie once more, thinking hard, before bending down and strapping her bag to her waist. You never know. Using five-minutes of the afternoon up, she then showed Antonie how to regulate the air-flow and other important safeties that they probably wouldn't need and the author doesn't feel like typing.

"Er, so-- that's pretty much it," The girl finished, standing up with her flippers on, slightly wobbly. "We can start whenever you're ready. I think heading due east would be best, as that's where the the arrow points. I'll keep track of time, as long as you keep track of how deep we've gotten. No more than 35 feet, alright? We can go, now, if you're all set!"

[Pierre Antoine Giroux]

I’m told that people like to call us dreamers
Because we won’t ever stop until we’ve done all we can do
There are so many things I haven’t seen
So I’ll look ’till I just can’t look no more

Pierre would have never known that scuba diving was this complicated. He mostly stood there, slack-jawed, as the girl -he still didn't know her name?!?!?- explained every little thing about scuba diving. He recognized some of the terms from the oceans unit in seventh grade science, but the rest was like a foreign language lapping against his mind in waves, then immersion.

He got the basic concepts, mostly, but he wasn't sure if he would remember the fine detail stuff. Hopefully that wouldn't be necessary. After five minutes, they were set- he had a head swimming with knowledge, his gear was strapped in, and finally, they were going. Adventure time.

"Due east, 35 feet below, 90 minutes. Sounds like a plan to me." With that, he waded into the sea. "Come on, then!"

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“There is nothing like the sensation of flying. That's why we humans try to get as close to it as possible."

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Okay-- Robin admitted it. It took alot to walk calmly into the ocean and not burst into a sprint squealing with glee. It had been forever (not to mention it to Antonie) since she had gone scuba-diving, and she was looking for the sensation of flying again under water. Like reaaaaally underwater.

But she restrained herself and side-stepped slowly into the clear blue water, smiling behind her mask. Now this was going to be fun. However, to her lasting suprise-- they had hardly traveled fifteen-feet out into the deeper water, when a flash of gold-caught her eye. Slowly spinning down with a flick of her flippered tail, Robin managed to turn herself to get a better look. Sending a school of minnows flying with a shock-wave of her arm, Robin eyes the dull-red coral reef slowly, looking for the gold--Oh.

Nudging Antonie with her hand, she pointed directly to the coral, eyes gleaming. Turns out they wouldn't be head due-east the entire time: There was another shiny gold arrow carved into the red-coral, pointing towards the left.

[Pierre Antoine Giroux]

I’m told that people like to call us dreamers
Because we won’t ever stop until we’ve done all we can do
There are so many things I haven’t seen
So I’ll look ’till I just can’t look no more

Swimming. It wasn't something that Pierre did often, but it was like riding a bike- you never forget. The cool Atlantic ocean slide over his arms, and he was like a fish, gliding along the sea. For a few minutes he was distracted by the delicious colors of the reef- he didn't know they had reefs in the Atlantic- and they he sees it.

Another gold arrow. The girl points it out to him, and he nods. He swirls around and heads left, north. How deep are they, seven feet? Not too deep yet.

[Christina Ann Robins]

(Yeah, you're right. No reefs. Heh. But whatever! Authors don't follow the rules, they make up their own! xD)

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“The colors of the underwater rock [are] as pale and delicate as those in the wardrobe of an 18th-century marchioness.”

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This went on for a while, perhaps a good thirty minutes. Antonie or Robin would spot another arrow up ahead, they would point it out to the other, and the duo would change direction. Often glancing at her watch, waterproof, Robin nervously hoped that they would reach the end of their path soon, otherwise they would have to turn around.

Thirty-Three. Another arrow.

Thirty-Five. Robin decided mentally that at forty-five they would have to turn back, or risk running out of air.

Thirty-Seven. Another arrow.

Forty.

Now this arrow... was different. Pausing in her constant forward motion, Robin eyed it suspiciously. It was engraved curiously on a rather large stone, near the entrance of a small underground cave-- and of course it pointed inside.

Sighing behind her mask, Robin shook her head. Of course they would end up going into this stone cave where there were likely (in Robin's mind) sharks and all sorts of girl-eating-fish. Slowly, not really thinking, Robin zipped the front pocket of her pouch, where she had left all the water-proof stuff in, and retrieved a small flash-light. Shrugging, she glanced at Antonie, then to pointed at themselves and the cave. Then to her watch.

Forty-two minutes. That left about three minutes to explore the cavern below, and forty-five to swim back to the shore. Hmm... Robin didn't like the odds, but flicked her flash-light on anyways and began the dive to the small tunnel.

[Pierre Antoine Giroux]

I’m told that people like to call us dreamers
Because we won’t ever stop until we’ve done all we can do
There are so many things I haven’t seen
So I’ll look ’till I just can’t look no more

Time was ticking on and on, and Pierre was realizing that adventure time was less exciting than he thought. They changed directions several times, following the golden arrows through the fish and coral. How long was it now? half an hour, more? They were at least twenty feet down now, and he was starting to feel cold.

This one was different. He glanced at the girl- she was studying it curiously, too. Yes, it was different. He swam closer, stroked it- didn't seems too odd. But he caught her eye anyway, and she pointed to the cave.

Oh, God.

Well, at least she had a flashlight. He swam into the cave after her, not knowing what they would find.

Twenty two feet, now.

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“To rise from the ashes there must first be a flame."

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Forty-Three Minutes.

Her watch glowed an eerie neon green before fading after a few moments of life. Robin removed her hand from the button and continued pressing forward with strong kicks from her flippers. It was pitch black, side her flickering flashlight, and Robin swung it from side to side nervously along the cavern walls, flinching at the shark-shaped rocks. She did not want to get eaten today.

Finally, light streamed in the distance, other than her flashlight, giving her hope. Maybe this was simply a tunnel, leading to the other side of the bay. That would be pretty cool.

Forty-Four Minutes.

They emptied into a circular shaped cave. Glancing around herself, and flicking off the flashlight, it seemed as if they had reached the end of the tunnel. However, they were still directly under the beams of light now; Robin motioned that it might be a good idea to swim to the surface-- to see where they were. Head breaking the surface a few moments later, it looked as if they were in a small underground air-pocket, and the light was coming from torches that lined they wall.

Robin quickly discarded her mask and shut off her air-tube, precisely at 45 minutes, revealing her face to be split in a grin. Now this was starting to look like a real adventure.

[Pierre Antoine Giroux]

I’m told that people like to call us dreamers
Because we won’t ever stop until we’ve done all we can do
There are so many things I haven’t seen
So I’ll look ’till I just can’t look no more

The cavern was heading downwards. Crap. Tabarnak.

Twenty four feet, now. Then twenty six.

The cavern was glowing creepily in the flashlight's dim glow, flickering on and off as the girl swept it from side in the cave. It was mostly dark. Pierre shuddered, slightly and against his will- who knew what was in the dark, beyond the light of the flashlight? For that matter, what about behind him? He swung around, glancing into the darkness- nothing, but he couldn't see for shit.

He kept swimming. Twenty eight.

Suddenly the duo found themselves in a underwater cave, with a ledge and a - sweet, blessed
Lord- air. Stale air, probably, but the canned stuff he was breathes was horrible. Or maybe it was fine- he just wasn't used to it.

He surfaced right after the girl, clammering onto the ledge and pulling away at his gear. Shut off that air, lose the mask. Ah, sweet oxygen!

Pierre stood up- there was room? Awesome- and looked around. It was still dark.

"Now what?" he asked, partly of himself and partly to his companion. Adventure time wasn't over, but where did they go now?

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“A fear of the unknown keeps a lot of people from leaving bad situations."

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Robin lifted herself out of the pool, black wet-suit sparkling in the dancing lights of the torches. The girl slid over to the wall, giving an up and down glance to an opening in the stone-- a cave-entrance. Looking further ahead, she noted the continuous pattern of lit torches in the distance of the shadows of the cavern. Sweet.

Now crouching down, Robin slid her satchel off her waist, allowing it to unfold and expand again into a regular backpack. Shivering slightly from the cool of the water, Robin shuffled through the backpack-- looking for her otherwise regular sized and not-so-waterproof flashlight. Finding the cylindarical shape, she slid it out from under several other odd-looking contraption and tossed it in Antonie's direction. You never knew when the cavern was going to get dark again.

Then, zipping up the satchel again and slinging it over her back, Robin turned to Antonie and grinned-- flicking her own smaller flash-light on. "Now, Mr. Antonie, sir, we explore."

[Pierre Antoine Giroux]

I’m told that people like to call us dreamers
Because we won’t ever stop until we’ve done all we can do
There are so many things I haven’t seen
So I’ll look ’till I just can’t look no more

Torches. Creepy torches that cast equally creepy shadows onto the stone walls of the cavern. Er. Ah. Adventure time was never quite so scary when it happened to other people, namely, actors.

The girl climbs out of the water after him, dug a small cylinder thingy out of her bag- where did that come from? - and tossed it to him. He almost missed catching it, grabbing it with the tips of his fingers as it was headed toward the dark expanse of the lake- could he call it that, now? It certainly looked like one- the lake. If he had lost it, that would ahve bee bad on many levels. He grasped it firmly and flicked it to the low setting.

"So, was what we just did, not exploring?" he wonders aloud, waving the beam of light along the cavern ceiling. Stalagmites, he thinks, or whatever they are called. And the torches. Ah, the torches. "I suppose we are going that way." He points down the cavern.

Adventure time. God, what had he got himself into?

[Christina Ann Robins]

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“When all is silent, even the most lone turn to the 'favorites' game."

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"Nope," Robin answers, not really realizing that it wasn't a question for her. "That was the initiation ceremony. Now we get to the real exploring."

Flicking her sodden hair behind her shoulder, Robin folded the flippers, masks, and other equipment under a rather large stalagmite-- in case someone else was here (which someone or something probably was due to the torches) and began to move towards the cavern entrance, wishing with earnest that she had brought shoes or something.

"Sooooo..." Robin started after a long pause, the darkness of the new cavern and the eerie candle-light starting to freak her out. She jiggled the flash-light as it wavered, and swept it around the tunnel's walls and ceiling. It seemed to be a simple design. A few stalagmite and stalactites here and there-- but was most a simply descending and straight tunnel. "Mr. Antonie, sir. I know who you are, and what your power is-- but I don't know anything else. So, if you don't mind me asking, why do you call yourself Antonie?"