driftfleet | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Heron crew and anyone who comes to... visit?
Broadcast: Nope
Action: Heron and the surrounding nasty jungle
When: While we're trapped on the planet

[We've had better days. The ship is trashed, the jungle is full of hostile people that want to skin us, and we seem be out of anything remotely coffee-esque...]

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[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?

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