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Barth hesitantly pried Christof loose. "Yes, alright. Thank you. I'll err, I'll try my best."

With a determined expression, he slowly made his way to his feet, and then over to the gears.

Then he began the equally slow process of examining them. Against the wall, where they started. The floor. He waited, and counted the timing. He inserted, then extracted, himself from where the gears met and were smeared with blood. He touched, tapped, guesstimated the depth of the gap, the height from floor to ceiling, and then he stood back, giving his teammates a wobbly smile.

"...Here goes nothing."

Everything was perfect for a whole second, and she soaked it in before Herryk had to go and ruin it with questions. Her face fell, before crimping up in annoyance.

"She didn't even tells me what she is mads about now. We fights like this all the time, yeh know. But this time she seems madder, and I did nothings to deserve it. Nothings." She laid extra special emphasis on the word, because she was trying to convince herself just as much as anyone else.

"I can't thinks about her now. We has to figure this out, so we can moves on. She'll try to beats me up more later, I will find out what she thinks I did wrong then." Her lower lip pouted out just slightly, and her hands dropped to rest on her hips. "Be glad yeh has no sisters, Herryk. Sometimes they are a real pain."

And in Freya's case, Hel was the least 'pain' of them all.

Barth settled in the floor, out of the way of the main gear path, folded his claws on his chest, and focused on relaxing. It was easy to start to drift off with the sound of machinery and the carpet, and he focused on feeling safe.

At first, nothing happened. It was not the sudden bramble that had leaped into action during his fight with Calder. The thorns were black, and slow, and winding, and began with precise, twisting menace to twist up the base of the gears.

Calder watched as Barth managed to summon his thorns and they slowly worked their way into the gears. He cringed when he saw them twist and tear, and remembered that Barth said the thorns were part of him. He hoped they didn't hurt the demon in any way. However, he was just as proud to see him succeed and the gears DID slow down. Not all the way, but it was clear that they had done something.

Giddy, Calder jumped and clapped in place before trotting over and leaning down to hug the boil. "See! You did it! You made them work and controlled then, and here you were all worried. I knew you could do it!" He squeezed him in a tight hug. It seemed he could get away with hugs without raising suspicion and as it was, he was going to get as many hugs as he could get now. He was also reminded of how nice the boil smelled, and the fact of how the shirt was just damp enough that it still stuck to the demon boil's chest.

This field trip was much better than the island one.

((Choice B))

As she watched the thorns weave their way into the gears, she gave out a holler of victory, bouncing in delight. That was an AWESOME ability, and now she understood why Calder tried to get him to do it! It was even slowing the gears down, it was perfect!

Well, not perfect.

As much as it was making things easier, it was still impossible to get through without a little bit of luck. That one snapping gear that kept tumbling down and blocking the entrance, it was so frustrating, if only they had something they could jam in there and keep it from-

Oh.

Freya held her hand out, her expression clearly showing just how stupid she felt for not offering the option before, and tendrils of Fear extended from her fingertips. They elongated, all the way up and down each side, sparking with new life until finally an explosion of Fear created the blade of her scythe. Before the weapon had dulled from Fear to solid, she'd already started moving. The weapon solidified in her hand, just before she let out a ear shattering warcry and shoved her scythe, blunt side up, to try and wedge it into the gears.

Christof beamed excitedly as the vines did their business, wobbling back to his feet before prancing from boot to boot as the gears slowed. It was WORKING! He almost hugged the sloth again himself, but no sooner had the progress been made, the Valkyrie suddenly screamed-

He staggered backward just as the scythe was shoved deep in the gears, and frantically glanced from the weapon to the reaper and back again. Was she crazy?? What if it broke! It was more useful to possibly sacrifice than his dumb travel shovel!

Freya grinned as the gears grinded to a halt, brushing the hilt of her weapon fondly as it took the brunt of force and refused to break. No sooner had she done so, then she was up in the air, twirling around, and then lips-

There was something different about this kiss. Maybe the flush of victory and succeeding had her adrenaline running high. Or maybe it was just the excitement of the Draugr who tossed her around like a rag doll. She didn't care. All that really mattered was how her eyes fluttered shut without a thought, and her ears couldn't hear anything anymore. When he pulled away, Freya's face pinched in absolute agony, and she grabbed his arm to swivel him around almost instantly. Tugging him back down to her, she mumbled something that sounded like 'Not dones yet', and brought his lips back to hers until she was good and ready.

She could get used to this.

Calder looked up at Herryk. "It's okay. I can carry him." And at Barth's request, he nodded. "I'll carry you very slowly." He stated, and looked at everyone. You all should get moving. I'll follow with Barth behind you."