|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 10:24 pm
He'd chosen to ignore the warnings from Tracey, he knew what he was doing. It was about control. You took your own ******** fate and you did whatever the hell you wanted with it. He'd thought he'd gotten better, gotten good at behaving, at fighting, but all you ever ******** did was run on a treadmill to nowhere.
Jerry's anger was something distant as the first blow landed, dazing him. When his shield cracked he had let go and was already somewhere else, outside himself, dissociated and invincible. The guy who curled up under the barrage of blows, fending off swings until even that energy left him was someone else entirely, someone despicable and pathetic.
He was someone weak. He was rooting for Jerry, at least he sounded happy.
He'd hoped to regain another fragment of his emotions, instead someone else just gained another trophy.
Everything went black, and it was a ******** relief.
HP: -9
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Toshihiko Two rolled 1 12-sided dice:
8
Total: 8 (1-12)
|
Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 10:51 pm
Harrison wasn't on field medic duty.
He was stuck on kitchen duty for the rest of the month, and while he'd hoped to learn a thing or two about the mess hall (and how to survive if stranded and away from frozen dinners), cooking had mostly meant dumping giantass cans into cafeteria serving trays.
It was demeaning, and ******** depressing, and all he'd learned was what he already knew: Nobody liked cops.
He'd been taking a break after the lunch crowd, when he heard some familiar crashes and howls from the training field. Jerry must be sparring. Roar really packed a sonic punch, he wondered if he oughta get the guy sound-blocking headphones next Christmas. In any case, watching fights was more interesting than squatting by a wall and reading more s**t about war tactics as applied to sand dunes during the Civil War. He pocketed the book in his apron, and walked across the grass to see who was training.
As he walked around, the last thing he expected to see was Tracey flash up over the rolling grass. He stopped walking, and started jogging.
Had Rep gotten his ban lifted? Could be, might even make sense to petition it, long as he kept the spars to full hunters and wasn't using Problems. Hell, he and Rep hadn't sparred since they were both intermediate.
Instead of seeing Rep hit the sky, however, he got punched back hard- Jerry must have really been keeping up the pressure. Tracey had one range he excelled at, but too close or too far...
Tracey flashed out of the picture. Desummoned. s**t. s**t s**t. Harrison picked up the pace again to a full sprint.
By the time he got there, the ground was covered with a lot of red. Jerry was looking at his hands like they didn't even belong to him.
"Move," Harrison growled, popping his tin open and gently clearing off some of the blood so the bandaid had a place to stick. He ripped off his apron and searched for the main source of the blood, if anything was gushing, or broken. Rep looked completely knocked out.
"Rep?" he asked, and the lacerations were ******** everywhere. Rep's face and head had gotten the worst of it it. Everything was bloody and swollen, he was hard to recognize. "come on, answer me."
Healing: Rep
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 11:00 pm
Roar vanished in the grass in a sprinkle of green light and Jerry floated obediently to the side, his expression slipping from shock to unreadable. I'm Sorry momentarily hung in his thoughts, but he wasn't sorry. Rep wanted a spar. He had given him one.
He rocked back and up onto his feet, standing by silently out of the way.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 11:04 pm
The darkness receded, just a bit, like someone waking him up too early in the morning, he rejected it, all there was was pain, a lot of ******** pain and he wasn't even sure why. He was all ******** wet, and he wondered if he'd cliff dived wrong. It was pretty ******** cold too.
Harrison's voice was enough to make him reach out, he couldn't see, he had no idea it was because of the swelling around his face. He clenched a hand against him as tightly as he could before slumping back onto the ground again with a useless gurgle and cough. The pain across the bridge of his nose made him feel like he wanted to throw up.
All the warning lights were flashing in his head. At least that was what it felt like, colours flickering oddly, like light playing on oily waves.
Thoughts stretched out of shape as he ebbed back into unconsciousness and his hand went limp.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 11:41 pm
Harrison squeezed back.
"You're gonna be okay," he told him, and kept talking, even as he slipped away again. "Infirmary's not far from here. We've done this before."
Harrison kept a grip on Rep's hand. He rechecked- back, neck...not broken anyhow, not if he could move his hand.
"J-jerry. Do me a favor and text Jordan, okay?"
Harrison made a decision, and rolled up the apron, then used it to secure Rep's head. He got on one knee. He pulled Rep up, slow, into his arms, then held him while he stood.
"Just gonna take a walk," he repeated, "Get you a ******** icepack. Been a while since we done that, huh?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Apr 21, 2013 11:59 pm
Jerry kept his mouth shut as he quietly fished his phone out of his pocket with aching, blood-soaked fingers and typed the text. Prolixity Text To Jordan: Rep hurt. Harrison has him. "I... I aught to... piano." He mumbled, before stiffly walking in his own direction.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2013 5:23 am
Bilious Text to Jerry: On my way. It took longer than Jordan liked to track down someone who'd agree to take the rest of his observation shift; he found them at the infirmary. He stopped short in the door of the room, taking a sharp breath as he took in Rep's appearance, then looked to Harrison. "What happened?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2013 7:09 am
"Dunno," Harrison responded, sunk in a chair while life techs hurried in and out. "I came in on the tail end of it. I'm on break."
Rep and Jordan had both gotten earfuls by now about how much he liked kitchen duty.
"Jerry didn't say much. Spar gone bad, far as I can tell."
He didn't mention that Rep had been using Tracey, but only on account of them being in public. He'd fill Jordan in later.
"His shield broke. His face is...pretty messed up. So. I don't know if there's like. Any brain injuries. They're..." Working on it. He gestured to the bed. Harrison seemed shaken. "Jerry say anything to you?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2013 7:21 am
Jordan shook his head mutely and slipped into the room, moving to stand briefly beside the bed, his fingers brushing over Rep's hand where it lay empty and open on the bed. The loose give of unconscious joints made him feel strange, unsettled, and he let his hand rest on Rep's only a moment longer before he drifted over to sit on the arm of Harrison's chair, needing the reassurance of closeness. "I guess we'll have to wait till he can tell us."
He studied Rep for a few more seconds. Then he looked back to Harrison, sudden realization making him frown. "Jerry did that?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2013 7:36 am
Harrison nodded morosely. He chose his next words carefully. He couldn't mention Tracey being desummoned, and hell, even mentioning Jerry had been using Roar could lead to problems.
Harrison hadn't strayed far from the bed since they got there. He leaned against Jordan, grateful for the closeness.
"Jerry kept on punching him after he was down. He said something about a piano."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2013 10:13 am
"A piano," Jordan said blankly. It made no sense to him, and his mind flailed fruitlessly for some kind of explanation.
Assumptions, Ferros said, very quietly, his tone apologetic.
You're right. It was worse than unhelpful to try to guess what had happened. He'd wind up jumping to the wrong conclusions again. Still, it was agonizing to do nothing. He wanted to track Jerry down and demand answers, possibly violently; looking at Rep lying still and hurt made him feel sick.
No. They would wait. Jordan leaned over a little to catch Harrison's hand and interlace their fingers, taking silent comfort from the touch.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2013 10:22 am
"B0nez says we oughta check his phone," Harrison said, holding Jordan's hand between them, "guess that's not a bad idea."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Apr 22, 2013 11:55 am
"Yeah. I can do that." Jordan stayed where he was for a little longer, unwilling to let go of Harrison; then he got up, letting their hands slide apart reluctantly, and retrieved Rep's coat from where it was folded across a chair, checking the pockets. Under better circumstances, some of the assorted contents would have made him smile, but he was feeling too fragile for that just now.
He brought the phone back and flipped it open, scrolling through the text history. "Just one," he reported, and showed the phone to Harrison. "He challenged Jerry ... "
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
