IT WILL HAPPEN SOON / FEELS LONG OVERDUE

[heltersskelter]

CHARACTERS: tate & everyone who signed up
LOCATION: Space Bablyon & the subsequent corridor || evening
WARNINGS: violence, character death, sexual innuendo
SUMMARY: tate flips his lid and shoots some people
NOTES: feel free to start your own threads in this & threadhop for whatever your needs! tate will only be replying to characters who have signed up, but this is open to others to tag in if you want to be part of the chaos/bystanders/doctors/etc. action or prose is fine!

CORRIDORS
SPACE BABYLON
MEDICAL

Comments

[wolfchild]

Nymeria warns her of danger long before Arya becomes aware of it. The staccato sound of gunshots is no longer as new or jarring as they had been the first time, but Arya still flinches when she hears one. She briefly considers turning back: Jon would be unhappy if she walked right into trouble (again) and if Robb found out (as he somehow always managed to) it would just be another fight. And she has already seen what guns can do. She rolls her shoulder before keeping low.

"Silent as a shadow."

The smell of blood has Nymeria rolling her eyes and showing her teeth. Arya strokes her. Mayhaps there is someone injured. They can at least drag them someplace safe.

Sensing movement ahead, she stops. Nymeria bristles. They both crouch, silent, until Arya can discern the voices and recognizes one.

"Elvenking!" She hurries toward them.

[avengeful]

Sam opens his mouth to reply, a parted set of lips that immediately snap shut at the sound of someone: a girl, he sees through the shadow, though he has one hand reaching behind his back in case there's danger; considering how she calls out to him (... Elvenking?), he thinks she's safe -- but he sees the wolf and tenses protectively. The hell? They just let animals wander around here like this?

"You -- is he a friend of yours? He's losing a lot of blood and he needs a doctor fast." He speaks professionally, because he's walked injured people to other worried survivors on more than one occasion. This isn't anything new for him, telling her this breathlessly, sternly. "I've got to get him to the med bay."

He glances at the beast in the shadow.

His every instinct tells him to shoot it; his every lesson in childhood tells him to shoot it. But he doesn't, doesn't even reach for the gun. He grips Thranduil's shoulder carefully, seeing if the man responds to his motion. Don't go konking out just yet, Elvenking.

[elvenking]

Arya shouldn't see him like this, he thinks, but he suspects Arya has seen worse. He has to get her away from here, even so. And as always, the best way to get Arya to do what you want is to give her an important task.

He speaks slowly, trying to enunciate as clearly as possible. "I need your help, Cat." When he sways dangerously, it's not an act, although it does serve his purposes.

[wolfchild]

Worse yet, they let animals wander around like this with children. Though this one does not act much like a child. There is surprise, certainly, and worry on her young face. But when she looks at the injury it's with a clinical eye. Arya listens to Sam, but it is her eyes she trusts. When he finishes, she nods. Arya grabs Thranduil's other hand to give him support.

"I know where that is! I'll— What is it?" Her eyes slide to Thranduil. They narrow slightly with her light rebuke. "You should save your strength. We'll get you there. Nymeria can—Nymeria, to me!" She speaks quickly, stumbling a little over her words as her mouth struggles to keep up with her thoughts. "Nymeria can carry him. She's strong enough. We can get him there faster."

[avengeful]

"Good, good -- Cat, was it?"

He keeps a steady voice, though he flinches back a bit when the wolf steps closer; it's instinctual, every fiber of his being on alert. He's seen werewolves and shapeshifters and all the in-betweens, but wolves aren't off the table for 'dangerous'. They're just less supernaturally so. Regardless, she seems to have a very strange hold on the creature. If she can command it? Sammy'll just have to worry about danger of a different breed: there's someone out there still shooting. He inches Thranduil carefully toward Nymeria when she offers the wolf as transport, but keeps his eyes on Arya. He speaks carefuly, gently -- not so much that she's a kid, because she clearly knows her way around, but because he's so used to keeping a cautious voice toward 'civilians'.

"Listen, Cat. The person who did this is still out there, and there could be more hurt people; will you be able to take him there by yourself?"

He has to go back out there. He's got no choice. There could be untold damage, lives in the balance, hell -- probably even lost.

"Can I trust you with that?"

Because he will. She looks just as old as he was when he started helping in hunts.

[elvenking]

"You can." There's no hesitation before he answers for her, without even thinking. Because maybe Arya is an abrasive little brat sometimes, but he has never once doubted her reliability. Even half-conscious and in horrible pain, he knows it solidly. "I do."

[wolfchild]

Surprise colors her. Gratitude follows on its heels. They both vanish quickly, a moment present and the next gone. She nods again.

"I'll get him there. Swift as a deer."

[avengeful]

Sam smiles at that, tense but honest. Atta' girl. He doesn't know her, sure, but he values a tough and practical kid as much as Dean or John would. "Swift as a deer," he repeats, moving Thranduil closer to the wolf. Sam avoids being twitchy around the beast. Truth be told, he thinks it's pretty cool; he loves dogs, and wolves are just another, more elegant animal to secretly like. What would Dean say right about now? He speaks in a low, hopeful tone, "You're gonna be okay, Elvenking. Just fine. She's gonna get you some help. Moving's gonna suck, but it's quicker. Keep him steady, huh?"

The last bit is directed at Arya, as he motions for a helping hand.

[elvenking]

It's not okay to get cranky at a person who is saving your life, and Thranduil will think of that later. But right now, he's discovering that brushes with death are miserable affairs that make you a little tactless.

"You must think I was shot in the head as well as the leg."

And that's about as much sass as he can give, because once he's on the wolf, he's sinking forward. He can't stop the pull of gravity. One cheek presses to the grey fur and he fights to keep his eyes open.

[wolfchild]

"I will." Smooth as summer silk, she thinks. Nymeria rolls her eyes at both the unfamiliar weight and the smell of blood. A hand on her neck keeps her steady. The other she keeps on Thranduil's shoulder in case he begins to slip off.

"Kill the cunt," she tells Sam before leading Nymeria and Thranduil away.

[avengeful]

Sam's not too broke up about the sassy reply, Thranduil; you should meet his brother. No, if there's anything funny about this moment at all, it's the doe-eyed, surprised look Sam gives Arya at that request. Like he'd just been victimized by a furry muppet.

[avengeful]

Eventually it evolves into a crooked, surrendered smile before he turns on his heel and starts into the hallways, shaking his head, brows rising high on his forehead.

"Kids these days."