driftfleet | (no subject)

Excuses excuses. Let me know if you hear me coming.

[which is an odd thing to say, considering the smart thing to do would be sneak his way in, but no. He sees one of those asshole Other-wannabe cannibals; maybe a scout, maybe one looking for Wrath, or maybe the one she hears. Either way, he slowly brings the gun up, takes aim, and fires off a quick shot, right in the head]

[yep, that was sure gunfire. And pretty close.]

oh fuck you are gonna get all their attention yes i fucking heard that

[Fuck fuck fuck. She gets into something close to a sitting position, ready to roll herself out of the tree. Though what she's going to do when she hits the ground is really anyone's guess. But she's still got the machete in one hand.]

[the cannibal drops to the ground and Sawyer darts off, as quickly and quietly as he can manage. That'll draw their attention, or at least he hopes it will, and that'll give him enough time to get to Wrath and get 'em both out of there. Hopefully.

He takes a wide berth to sneak up to the tree from behind, and finally responds after ten long minutes]

That's the whole point. Coming up from behind, get ready to jump down.

ready

[She is so not ready. She really, really fucked up. But she's going to make it work anyway, somehow. She's had worse injuries, she tells herself. She just has to be her own medevac this time.]

[his plan seems to work, at least for now; he waits a few moments longer, watching the cannibals wander away and then darts in under the tree. Another moment, to make sure they didn't hear him, and then he looks up - he's right below her]

I'll catch ya if you need it, but let's go before they figure out I'm fuckin' with 'em.

Watch out.

[She drops out of the tree. It's not graceful, more like a plummet than a controlled fall, but she manages to kind of land on her feet, continuing down to a crouch that's... sort of intentional. She's still clutching the machete she took away from one of the cannibals.

And she looks like absolute, bloody shit. Her face, arms, and hands are streaked with blood gone crusty, her shirt clinging wetly to one side.

Fueled by determination, she staggers to her feet, but she's not looking too steady.]

Son of a bitch.

[that's it, that's all he has to say when she jumps down and he gets a good look at her. And that's the only warning she gets before he shoves his gun into her free hand and picks her up bridal-style, as quickly and carefully as he can]

New plan, you watch our back, I run as fast as I can.

[She is not as light as she looks--something about composite metal bones. She grimly clenches her teeth as he picks her up, because that wasn't pleasant, and him running is going to suck too. She takes a bruising grip around the back of his neck, balances the machete across her stomach because she'll be damned if she's losing her one half decent weapon (especially after the amount of blood she paid for it), and gets a grip on the rifle.]

Go.

[oof. Well, it's a good thing he's at least used to carrying people - even if they're heavier than they appear. Once she's situated he takes off without a word, quickly heading as far from the scouts as possible. The plan is to take the long way around, and then when he's sure they're safe they can pause for some quick field medic bullshit.

Christ. He can never escape these situations. At least this time it isn't him being injured]

[With every step, there's an unhealthy little wheeze that escapes from between Wrath's clenched teeth, though she is doing her best to swallow the sound because Sawyer really does not need the distraction. She's lived this long, it's going to take more than this to kill her. She hopes.

She focuses on keeping an eye out, which is easier said than done when she's in an awkward position and being jolted around. But...]

Getting some... heat artifacts. Eight o'clock. Can't resolve it yet.

Heat artifacts? What're you, the freakin' Terminator?

[it's said with an ounce of good-natured something-or-other in his tone, and he stops and ducks down, gentle as he sets her down too to catch his breath. He strains his ears to listen in the direction she mentioned, frowning]

Don't they know when to give up?

I don't know what that is.

[Which is really not important right now. Focus, Wrath.]

Hunters hunt. [She offers him the rifle back, taking a firm grip on her machete. She's not going down quiet.

She just wishes she could fucking hear them coming, but all she's got is a high-pitched squeal that echoes through her head.]

Killer robot from the future. It's a movie, we'll watch it sometime.

[trust Sawyer to explain it despite the situation. He takes the rifle and sets it aside, only to quickly pull off the shirt he was wearing over his undershirt - and hands it to Wrath] Think you can rip that into pieces? We're gonna multitask.

[then he picks the rifle up and takes aim] How many did ya see?

Sure, sounds fun. [At this point, almost anything sounds fun, because she's not really paying attention to the words.]

[Wordlessly, she starts ripping up the shirt, methodically.]

Don't know. Can't see them real well. That's how they got me in the first place.

There can't be that many left, 'least in this area. [wishful thinking on his part, and trying to stay positive for her. He's really bad at it] If you think you see one gettin' close, I'm takin' the shot.

Okay.

[This is great. Everything is fine. They are so fucked. She sees movement, or at least thinks she does. The damn IR feedback is really annoying. Rather than speak, Wrath gently taps Sawyer's leg and points, since it's a more accurate than giving him a bearing. Her hand is perhaps surprisingly steady, but that's because it's the artificial one.]

[he turns to glance where she points, going stock still as he strains to see any movement himself. He could take pot shots until he runs out of ammo, or he could focus on getting them both back in one piece.

He banks on the latter being more successful, and hands over his weapon so he can start taking those strips of cloth to patch her up. It's a rush job, but it'll at least stem the bleeding for now]

[Wrath grunts at the first bandaging, but she keeps the rifle ready and just... endures. She's had it worse. It wasn't fun, but she knows this won't kill her.

When Sawyer is just about done, the muzzle of the rifle snaps a few degrees left as she tracks more movement.]

'ware.

[She gives him just enough time to get out of the way and opens fire.]

[he gets out of the way in the sense that he jerks his head to the side, away from the rifle barrel as she opens fire. His ears ring, but that's fine - he's too distracted pulling out the gun he had originally brought for her.

Also fine, because he's better with handguns. He's quick to turn around and open fire as well where he sees leaves moving, and doesn't stop until until the clip is empty]

[Honestly, it's a good thing Sawyer knows what he's doing because Wrath can't hit the broad side of a barn with a gun. So it works for suppressing fire purposes.

She fires until the clip runs out. There's a moment of silence; she doesn't have the problem with her ears ringing, which is one of the benefits of being mostly artificial parts at this point.

It's quiet enough for now.]

We need to go.

Don't gotta tell me twice.

[there's very little hesitation when he pockets his gun and scoops her up, pausing only to make sure he got the worst of her wounds before he takes off]

[Wrath just closes her lips grimly and doesn't make a sound. This entire situation sucks, but getting caught would suck even worse. She's watching hard for more pursuit.

Thankfully, nothing so far. But that focus is at least a good distraction from getting bounced around.]

[this time there's no stopping; careful not to bounce her too much, he stays low and quick, maneuvering around trees and brush and giving the hunters a wide berth. It adds another ten minutes at the very least to their little adventure, but it's certainly worth it. He's a little tired of shooting at 'em for the time being.

The ship comes into the sight but Sawyer doesn't stop until they're within the relative safety of the ship itself. He sets Wrath down carefully, then collapses back on his ass to catch his breath, pushing sweaty hair out of his face]

Let's not do that again, yeah?

[Wrath slumps where she's been putting, breathing a little hard herself, more from the pain than anything else.]

I don't know, that was pretty fun. [Attempting to joke, here.] And I did get a machete. Don't you want a machete too?

Oh hey, a machete. I had one of those once. [it's cool, he'll joke along too] Maybe I'll grab one the next time. If there's a next time.

We could be in the machete club together. [No longer powered by pure OH FUCK OH FUCK, she's starting to lose it a little, her words slurring. She's tired.] And then we'd have to get the captain one so he doesn't feel left out, right?