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 Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 12:19 pm
It'd been Seraphinite who'd contacted Jet for the patrol, and figured it'd be easy enough to meet up with him somewhere around the city around the warehouses. Jericho knew he'd not been around Ilian as he'd have rathered. Between school, looking for an actual job, trying to figure out college applications--it kept surprising him he'd be out of high school come May...--and humoring his parents' attempts to drag him into their socialite lives... Jericho had not been around. Even while powered, Seraphinite was rarely around.
There were no excuses, though he'd been honest with Ilian about what was going on, and even mentioned the training he'd been doing powered and unpowered with General Leucite. And the annoying as <********> other lieutenant that had a knack for following Seraphinite around.
It felt weird to see Jet as a General. Seraphinite's smile had been genuine though--he didn't doubt Jet's effort or devotion to the Negaverse. There wasn't any doubt to Seraphinite that Jet had earned his rank. But it still felt weird.
It'd felt even weirder to be the lieutenant that talked back openly against the General. After dealing with Leucite who would likely kick the crap out of him for insubordination, dealing with Jet--at least alone, not in a public spectacle for any in the Negaverse to see, Seraphinite had far too much respect for Jet as his friend to risk any other agent feeling they could respond similarly to the young General--felt almost surreal. That weird sensation came over him, dimly, as he spotted his friend. After a battle, undoubtably. He'd picked a fight with someone, or something, and clearly it hadn't been an easy... win, loss. Whatever the outcome. Seraphinite had been seething with his own rage as he kept a watchful eye and half his mind focused on the mental radar, searching for that signature as he forced his body to move.
His heart had stopped for... he didn't know how long. The teal and silver were all that pulled his figure away from the dark warehouses, a neon highlighted shadow against the gloom and snow. For what felt like a century, Seraphinite felt the sickening sensation of his stomach free falling, his heart in his throat, and his chest feeling like it was caving in on itself under an unseen pressure. He didn't know the damage. Wasn't sure how bad this was. His boots crunched the snow beneath them in quick succession, his large frame bristling with barely bridled anger.
"Jet, Jet," Seraphinite snarled, shaking his friend's shoulders as he got to him. Making sure he was still in one piece... He didn't really wait for an argument about him being fine or whatever. If necessary, Seraphinite would knock the General out. Higher rank or not, Jericho was staring at his best friend injured and felt like snapping the neck of whoever'd done it... fully aware he didn't have remotely the strength to stand up against whoever could tangle with a General.
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Posted: Fri Jan 13, 2017 8:33 pm
Jet felt as though he wanted to just roll over into the snow and die. He wasn’t sure he had anything broken, but there were cuts and tears all over his arms and body, scrapes on his face and neck, like little bites or cuts from broken glass. He wasn’t sure if the fight had been worth it, but he was at least still alive. Slumped near an old abandoned piece of machinery, but still alive.
“You’re late…” he groaned when Seraphinite took him by the shoulders and shook him, eyes blinking blearily open to peer up at him. “********> - seriously?” he whimpered pathetically, lifting his hands to try and fend Seraphinite off of him but he either didn’t have the strength or the willpower to manage it.
Teleporting home was… an option, but he was worried about anyone being able to sense them. Still, he knew they needed to get to somewhere he could get medical attention, and eventually nodded so that Seraphinite wouldn’t freak out on him any more.
He took hold of the Lieutenant’s arm and focused his energy on taking him to a place close enough. There was an old cemetery across the street and up the hill from his apartment, and so Jet, using the last of his energy, teleported them there.
And then he powered down and had to lay down before <********> he was in pain. “Keys in… back pocket,” Ilian groaned as he dropped his head onto the snowy ground, lifting his hand to indicate that he just needed a moment and then he would be fine. He was just tired.
“Don’t… wake Lovely up. He’ll be pissed.” Probably not so much about being woken up, but because he'd snuck out again after they should have gone to sleep.
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2017 6:28 pm
Late to what? Getting his a** handed to him by someone who could take out a General's strength and speed? Seraphinite hadn't commented beyond a grunt and a muffled curse. At least Jet was still alive, and seemed to be in one piece, from what he could tell from shaking his friend a bit. All the pieces seemed to be rattling together.
The fact Jet didn't just flip him off or shrug him off sent off more warning bells in his head, and he'd bent a bit lower, about ready to just lift Jet up himself if necessary. Though he'd paused when Jet at least seemed to relent to the demand on teleporting them out of there, waiting for the strange sensation to pass before he opened his eyes and blinked a few times. He expected to see an apartment. Not a cemetery. Close, at least. He knew the area, and sure enough, he could see clear across the street to where they'd need to head up.
Seeing Ilian instead of Jet on the ground had Seraphinite cussing again. "Why the ******** are you picking fights without backup?" His voice was gruff, but he was careful as he eyed his fallen friend. Getting keys out of one of the back pockets of his pants wasn't going to go over well with Ilian on his back. Still frowning, Seraphinite faded away, leaving a Jericho not fit for the snowy scenery in his worn and ripped jeans, work boots, and a pant splattered and torn up once-white tee-shirt.
"Why the hell is Lovely at your place? Ain't places not in a mansion or penthouse below him or some s**t?" He said this with a snort, more mocking than anything genuinely cutting. He crouched down next to Ilian, getting one arm under his friend's shoulders. "Either I'm grabbing your a** to get your keys, or you can grab 'em. I'm carrying you in though, and by all means try to fight me on this."
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Posted: Mon Jan 16, 2017 8:24 pm
Ilian’s attire wasn’t much better than Jericho’s. He was at least wearing a hoodie that was a little too big for him over his teeshirt. His jeans had seen better days. But he was in too much pain to care that the snow was soaking into the fabric, or that the blood from his wounds were soaking in as well.
“She didn’t seem that strong,” he groaned, trying not to sound as pathetic as he felt, although he probably wasn’t doing that great of a job since he was practically letting Jericho drag his a** home. “Dumb - b***h - ow! ********>, damnit…” he hissed, tapering into a whimper as Jericho slid his arm under his shoulders. “She ******** hit me in the head. Must’ve knocked me out…” he explained as he did what he could to sit up, trying to bite back any other sounds as he slowly, painfully, shifted his arm back to try and grab at his keys from his pocket, panting for breath at the effort.
He knew his wounds weren’t life threatening, but the fact that he’d teleported multiple times in quick succession that evening meant that he was completely worn out.
Not so warn out that he didn’t pry his eyes open to shoot a glare at Jericho’s suggestion to carry him. “Just ******** help me up,” he growled, feeling the bites of the tentacles all over him. Slimy and gross. It was enough to induce nightmares.
“He lives - with me,” he panted, ignoring Jericho’s help for the moment as he tried to force himself up to stand. “Ran away - last year. He stayed - to take care of me - I got it I got it,” he said, actually managing to get to his feet, but the first step he took had him crumpling again from the slipperiness of the snow.
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Posted: Sat Jan 28, 2017 11:17 am
Didn't seem that strong. And then wound up doing this to him. Jericho bristled and for a moment held his tongue. Ilian was in enough pain at the moment that his injuries served as a far better lecture in underestimating an opponent, far better than Jericho could muster at the moment anyways. Yeah. Hit Jet over the head, and then slashed him up with something. Senshi. Most of their magics that he'd encountered were bothersome, illusions, but every now and then...
They were a nuisance and nothing was going to change his thought on the nature of their existence. They weren't to be trusted.
He pushed the thoughts aside for now, trying to focus on the fact that Ilian was hurt now and was being an idiot by refusing to just let him help him. Sure, Ilian got to his feet, but Jericho was gritting his teeth. "The ******** happened to Lovely that he ran away? He alright?" The jokes were gone, his eyes narrowing and body stiffening as he heard Ilian speak. Last year? The ******** had he missed?
"Oh for ******** sake," he hissed, when Ilian went down again. "You're too ******** exhausted." He knew Ilian would be angry, knew there'd be complaints and likely a struggle, but the tall teenager ignored it all as he moved back over to Ilian's side, crouched down, and got his arms under Ilian's shoulders and the backs of his knees. Lifting him up, very much bridal style and very much the easiest way to carry a person, he was still cussing as he began to make his way towards Ilian's place. "If you make me drop you or fall myself I'm going to deck you. You need to rest."
Guine don't mind me as i contemplate doodling princess jet
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Posted: Mon Jan 30, 2017 3:44 pm
“P-put me down!” Ilian gasped as he was suddenly scooped up into Jericho’s arms, ignoring his warning about being decked and very much struggling and shoving at his childhood friend’s chest, his legs flailing weakly as he tried to get down. “I can - ******** walk - myself,” he growled, although Ilian was very much aware of how unintimidating he was, cut up and bleeding and bruised and obviously exhausted.
Part of him wondered why he was even fighting when it would definitely be easier for Jericho to carry him.
Oh right, because he wasn’t a little b***h, despite what people apparently thought of him. Just because he wasn’t physically strong or very tall or knew how to fight very well didn’t mean he wasn’t a ******** General in the ******** Negaverse. It was the principal of the thing!
And if Jericho dared pull the whole ‘remember the time I had to carry you because you couldn’t walk’, Ilian was going to be super pissed.
“I’ll ******** rest, just put me down!” he practically screeched, grabbing a fist full of Jericho’s shirt and trying to shove at him without actually hurting him because he didn’t really want to hurt him. But ******** if he was going to be carried!
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Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2017 6:03 pm
"Ilian, cut the s**t, you're ******** hurt and this'll keep you from ******** falling on your face or some s**t on the ice," Jericho had started, trying to watch his footing in the snow to get them out of the cemetery and towards the road. The complaints were something he expected. He knew it was coming, so why argue more?
Instead, his grip just tightened a bit around Ilian, trying to keep him from falling even as Jericho's footing wasn't super stable, cussing a bit as he had to look around the body in his arms to watch where he was stepping. But Ilian wasn't just... cooperating. No, instead, he kept doing the <******** opposite.
"Enough, Ilian-- Ilian," Jericho's voice got out on a roar as the jostling from Ilian's attempt to shove at him came just in time for his feet to hit a patch of ice. The weight in his arms and the shift in his center of balance tipped Jericho, and though he managed to throw his weight back to keep them from both falling onto Ilian, Jericho was hardly able to keep himself upright.
Which was why they both went tumbling backwards, with Jericho at the bottom and his head slamming back into the snow.
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Posted: Tue Feb 21, 2017 2:53 pm
He was not weak, he was not pathetic, and he did not need Jericho, whom he considered his brother even before he’d lost Sorin, carrying him even in an attempt to help him. Ilian thought he was perfectly capable of walking, even if it took him a little while, but he hadn’t asked for help. Didn’t need it. Jericho was just forcing it on him.
Ilian let out a yelp as Jericho fell backwards and into the snow, wincing from his own wounds being aggravated, but mostly concerned that Jericho had been hurt in the process. Jericho, who had grown much bigger and faster than himself, and insisted on taking care of him like he was a child. <******** off, Jericho,” he hissed and shoved at his friend again and tried to push himself off, once again attempting to get to his feet, but ended up right back in the snow on his knees and one hand, his other hand clutching his chest as a sharp pain in his lungs kept him from being able to breathe very well.
This sucked. He was more than capable of handling that senshi, but even with teleporting, she seemed to know exactly where he was going to appear. How could she have done that? Was that her magic? Being able to sense where he would be?
“I’m not - a child,” he growled between coughs, ignoring the shaking in his arms. “I don’t - need your help.”
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Posted: Mon Apr 10, 2017 11:02 pm
His skull was throbbing, sucking in a breath as he tried to ease the pain from his back and head. A hand reached back to rub carefully at the injured point on his head, probing for any warm, wet spots. Only cold ones from the snow melting against his hair. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself up on his bare elbows, the wet chill already seeping into his jeans and shirt. Not helped by the fact that Ilian had shoved at him further, and was getting up himself.
And down went Ilian again.
He hadn't really cared if Ilian told him to ******** off -- such was normal. It was his continued hissing, his continued pressing that he could do it on his own. Despite all the available evidence to say otherwise. To prove otherwise.
It wasn't much of a thought provoking action. It really wasn't anything he planned on, or thought to consider the consequences.
His hand fisted in the slush and snow, and it felt like an involuntary twitch. But it hardly was. Jericho's fist slammed into Ilian's gut, cussing and knowing, in the second that followed, this would solve nothing. But ******** hell.
"You are a ******** child," he snapped, seething and feeling for all the world like fire and brimstone should be coming from his mouth. "Because you won't accept the help you ******** need. Grow the ******** up, Ilian. You're not ******** alone."
Jericho tried again to get to his feet, hands going to Ilian's shoulders to see if the guy was still ******** awake after that. He almost hoped--almost--that Ilian would just pass the ******** out. Make it easier on both of them.
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Posted: Sun Apr 16, 2017 8:56 pm
One moment he was trying to get back onto his feet, and the next Ilian felt all the air leave his lungs, and he crumpled back down into the snow, darkness coating his vision for… he wasn’t sure how long.
He could vaguely hear Jericho’s muffled voice, and when his shoulders were grabbed hold of, he blinked dazedly and disoriented at his friend, his arms clutching to his stomach.
It took a few more moments for him to be able to breathe again, Ilian gasping for air as he lied on the ground with his back in the snow. Angry tears filled his eyes. Angry and embarrassed tears, which was even more embarrassing because he tried his damnedest not to cry in front of Jericho, or anyone, but he was already considered weak and a child by the man he considered his brother that it was especially hard.
And he was still in pain. In pain and cold and aching and couldn’t breathe and he just wanted to lay there and not do anything ever again. Childish yes, but they’d already established that Ilian was just a child, still trying to mature, even after being forced to grow up faster than children really should be forced to grow up. He was seventeen and already had the stress and responsibilities of an adult, and no matter what he did, it wasn’t good enough. No matter how hard he tried, it wasn’t enough.
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Posted: Tue Jun 20, 2017 11:20 pm
Jericho Cross was not someone who dealt well with emotions. Or emotional displays. Or emotional anything. Unless that emotion was anger or rage. Then he knew how to handle it and respond to it. But this? He didn't know what to do with this. For either himself, or Ilian. He was cussing and even some Russian began to slip into his words, a sign of his stress and his slipping control.
Because Ilian was crying, and Jericho was still pissed off, and since when did anything go right when he just tried to help his best friend? He wanted to help, he knew he could, but he couldn't because Ilian wouldn't let him. Right? That was the ******** situation here right? Or did he miss something down the road? For all he knew, he did, and he'd missed some blaring neon light somewhere back there and couldn't catch a glimpse of it now in the rear view mirror as they sped onward down this cracked, broken road.
Jericho grunted, more Russian breaking up his words. Not swears, but their meaning was untranslated. "Just let me get you inside, alright? You're not--... ********> He let out a breath, a barked laugh without humor and a crack in it that made him pause and breath hard, lips a thin line as he tried to grasp onto the frayed edges of his own temper. "You're not alone. You don't have to do s**t alone. I don't know what the ******** I have to do to get that through your thick skull." But Ilian was crying, and it was ripping him apart. The hands that gripped Ilian's shoulders moved, rubbing gently against his upper arms, lifting him up so he was sitting and Jericho didn't say anything as he pulled his younger friend against his chest. "You're not alone," he said again, teeth clenched and chin against the mop of brown hair. "For ******** sake, I'm not going anywhere. So ******** stop acting like you have to do this all alone, or have to stand on your own. I don't want--" He faltered and swallowed thickly, struggling to get the words out. Jericho didn't do emotional things.
"I don't want to lose you, too. I ******** can't."
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