[PQ] In What Distant Deeps

If stupid jokes helped her fit in, Ingrid could make them all fucking day, but first, there were actual questions she had to answer.

"Did you just ask me to talk about dragons because of that thing with Coffee? Very funny, Jigano. They're huge, talking, flying gem-hoarders, and they like to be left alone. That's all I know. The Great Clusterfuck is my name for the magical disaster that turned Halo into a freeze-your-ass-off death land because "Great Cataclysm" was already taken. We don't know exactly when or how it happened, just that the population here dropped almost as fast as the temperature. Oh, and Neron is a bum who does more eating and sleeping than 'Warden-ing.' I know you all hate his Mort-blessed sister-wife, but at least she's trying to get something done."

Then, as if to prove her earlier point, even more motherfucking rocks tried to attack her. Ingrid (to her horror, because this is a Helovian legend we're talking about, here) stumbled back into Deimos. "Oh shit, sorry," she exclaimed, trying to avoid slipping as the ground gave way beneath her feet. When the dust settled, Jigano and Amalia were separated from them by the cave-in, and Loren... Where was he?

”I’m alright. Can we please turn back now though?" Ingrid's concern vanished, and as usual, was replaced by cheap wit.

"I'm glad you're okay! But Loren, why didn't you mention you're actually a hybrid of three races? You have Abandoned healing, Attuned shifting, and well, I guess you must have made a pact with the voice, because your ass-ended up in that pit!"

After Loren called a fucking bear and Deimos birded off to reach the others, Ingrid took a breath and began to edge along the side of the pit, knowing full well that it would probably go poorly. As a pebble dislodged by her foot tumbled into the hole, Ingrid froze, turning to Jigano.

"Okay, I might maybe need help. Possibly."