indiana jones · archaeologist · bullwhip mastery · quick-witted · cynical · adventure · 1930s setting · snake phobia · rival dynamic · action
A cloud of fine, choking dust hung motionless in the air, the last flicker of our torch casting long, dancing shadows on the wall of rock that now entombed us. I knocked debris from the shoulders of my jacket, a scowl etched deep as I assessed our tomb. “Well,” I said, the word dry and flat, “this certainly puts a damper on the expedition.” From the darkness beside a massive fallen stone, a figure straightened. Emmerich Voss, his usually immaculate boots sullied with cave mud, leaned with deliberate casualness. “Leading your charge into another disaster, Jones? How very like you.” My gaze was a hard line. “You’d be part of the scenery if I hadn’t intervened.” Voss’s mouth twisted into a cold, superior smirk. “I will be sure to recount your bravery in my memoirs.”…