Outside Thunder Mountain, Howard and Wyatt have taken care to make it look as if the attraction is unoccupied. They know that having a ride look as if there are people camping out there is just begging for the resident psychos, as Howard calls them (when he's not simply referring to them as 'childhood-ruiners') to come looking for a blood bath. Whenever there are multiple cannon shots, Howard has to brace himself.
There are clear signs throughout the tunnel in Thunder Mountain, however, that someone's been here. Aside from the more obvious traps - snares, small piles of garbage and wind chimes with trip wires - there are footprints, a size 4 shoe ringed with the black and brown imprints of dried blood. A few bloody handprints track their way up one of the walls, barely visible in the dim light. There are discards, too; soiled bandages that were tossed away, knickknacks that Howard's been picking up from the gift shops, pieces of metal and carved-up wood that was to be used for other traps that never meshed into a completed project. A repurposed ethernet cable holds the skinned pelts of cats and rats to dry - at least fifteen of the latter and two of the former. In only a week, Howard's managed to make something of a hoarder's nest, which only becomes more evident the further up the tunnel Daniel goes.
Howard, for his part, is asleep at the mouth near the top, where it's hardest to enter at, currently hidden from Daniel's view by a fake rock at his back and the pile of clothing and towels he's using for warmth. The sun is shining on him, and it wakes him slightly, enough to makes a little noise and roll over.
At Daniel's foot is a trip-wire that ties to a coaster car that's been precariously propper higher up in the tunnel. Hitting the wire will send the car rolling forward, possibly as dangerous speeds. At the very least, it'll make a lot of noise. Most of the traps here are more to serve as a alarms so Howard can escape than as fatal machinations.
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There are clear signs throughout the tunnel in Thunder Mountain, however, that someone's been here. Aside from the more obvious traps - snares, small piles of garbage and wind chimes with trip wires - there are footprints, a size 4 shoe ringed with the black and brown imprints of dried blood. A few bloody handprints track their way up one of the walls, barely visible in the dim light. There are discards, too; soiled bandages that were tossed away, knickknacks that Howard's been picking up from the gift shops, pieces of metal and carved-up wood that was to be used for other traps that never meshed into a completed project. A repurposed ethernet cable holds the skinned pelts of cats and rats to dry - at least fifteen of the latter and two of the former. In only a week, Howard's managed to make something of a hoarder's nest, which only becomes more evident the further up the tunnel Daniel goes.
Howard, for his part, is asleep at the mouth near the top, where it's hardest to enter at, currently hidden from Daniel's view by a fake rock at his back and the pile of clothing and towels he's using for warmth. The sun is shining on him, and it wakes him slightly, enough to makes a little noise and roll over.
At Daniel's foot is a trip-wire that ties to a coaster car that's been precariously propper higher up in the tunnel. Hitting the wire will send the car rolling forward, possibly as dangerous speeds. At the very least, it'll make a lot of noise. Most of the traps here are more to serve as a alarms so Howard can escape than as fatal machinations.