Welcome to Gaia! ::

It would soon become apparent that if it weren't for Cimmerian's voice, her babbling and frantic breathing, their surroundings would have been completely and utterly silent. She was solely responsible for the only noise being made for a distance that would have proved impossible to measure. There was nothing else. Not even a breeze, not even the tiniest echo.

It was unfathomably quiet.

All of the sensations that people took for granted on Earth -- the reliable strength of gravity pulling them downward, the scent and subtle detection of the air flowing around them -- had abruptly vanished, almost as if obliterated by the burst of light that had taken them away from the skyscraper. Along with the terrible silence there was a strange absence of temperature and atmosphere, and a near-loss of the sense that told them where their body ended and the rest of the universe began. The physical contact between the two was all that remained to remind them that they were still alive.

It was hard to tell, strangely enough, whether or not Kurma's body was still warm -- but at least it was solid. He slowly peeled himself away from Cimmerian's grip, however, tumbling in the empty space until he was right side up again. And then he looked the girl straight in the eyes, and reached his hands out to steady her shoulders.

He smiled. It was a peculiar smile, that somewhat matched the ancient tranquility of the stars winking around them. "Don't panic," he said, quietly; slowly. "Being afraid does not help you face the mysteries of the universe around you. Being open-minded, and moving forward, does." One of his hands lifted away, crossing over the other, turning Cimmerian around before settling on her shoulder again.

"We're here. Told you I still knew the way."

The surface of Pluto was right below them.

"I've never been the kidding type," said Kurma, as they descended. He had an eccentric little smirk on his face that suggested precisely the opposite. In all honesty, however, he wasn't one to deliberately go out of his way to mess with people. It was just sometimes an unintentional side effect of how he conducted himself around others.

In spite of the pitch-blackness he still turned his head to and fro, in a cursory scan of their surroundings. Conclusion: he couldn't see a damn thing outside of the small patch of illumination cast on the stony ground by his orb. He shrugged. Nothing new about that. It seemed new to the Knight, however, which was really a bit strange. Kurma crossed his arms in contemplation, peering at the space in the darkness where he felt her grip on his arm.

There was a moment of silence after her question, almost as if he were saying -- well, what are you waiting for?

Then, after nothing interesting happened for a couple of seconds, his torso tangibly inflated and sagged, the nothingness around them suddenly filled with a drawn-out, ragged sigh.

"Don't tell me you've never heard any of those sayings about how you don't need eyes to see. There's like a million of 'em." He backed up a step or two -- Cimmerian would be able to feel his arm slipping from her grip -- and took a seat in midair again, the orb resting in its lap. "Go on, take a look around. I'll be right over here when you get bored."