futurologists: (Default)
Hathaway. ([personal profile] futurologists) wrote in [community profile] epidemiology2016-04-30 09:07 pm

EVENT ★ GILLIGAN'S ISLAND



MAROONED


Three days after the eruptions wrecked their havoc, a storm begins. It's not so different from the storm the recruits first encountered upon arrival, but this storm seems oddly and peculiarly driven. In some places of the islands it's nothing but pattering rain, but in other places it's strong enough to lift a fully grown human off his or her feet. And that's just what it does. It sweeps up recruits here and there -- not all of them, and there is no apparent method to who it takes and who it leaves. Some stay on the Nalawi islands, some are simply swept up into the sky. Here and there the storm grabs a Nalawi as well, but these victims are always dropped again. Sometimes out over the water, sometimes crashing down into land. They do not generally survive this.

The recruits stolen by the storm aren't aloft for long. They emerge eventually from the tumbling, buffeting, blinding winds, spewed out onto the beach of a strange new island. This island, to anyone paying any attention to their surroundings, is a recent addition to the surface of the ocean. In fact, flying in the face of physics and statistical likelihood (much in the way the storm had), it seems to have recently been on the seafloor.

This island was clearly once inhabited, although it's been a long, long time since then. Uniform structures can be found arranged in streets and avenues, now all thoroughly caked in barnacles, coral, seaweed, and other assorted debris of the sea. Here and there can even be found dead fish, suffocated when the water began to drain away and turn to open air. Most of them are horrifying, the things that tend to keep to the dark depths of the water. Toward the center of this empty, silent, sea-claimed city a giant sea serpent threads around and through several buildings. It's just as dead as the rest of them, its huge, pale eyes staring at nothing.

There are a few things here that aren't quite dead, though. Sometimes something armored, dull red, and hungry crawls out of some dark place. These creatures can't really be compared to anything on the surface, but they are each about the length of a human, with three sets of sharpened limbs held up off the ground, used for stabbing forward to pierce its prey, and one set of pinchers below that. The pinchers might anchor prey in place for easier stabbing, but they also create a tiny sonic boom when clacked. Standing too close to this can leave you dazed and momentarily helpless. These creatures aren't fazed by the lack of water around them, they're just hungry and ready to feed on anything nearby -- even each other. The danger they present to recruits is at least slightly mitigated by an unknown force, though. If a recruit finds themselves unable to handle one of the creatures or overwhelmed by it, the storm itself will lash out at the thing. This isn't a very precise defense, but it is generally enough to pick up one or both of the contestants and separate them.

Nothing here looks anything like what can be found on the Nalawi islands, except perhaps the flora. It's difficult to tell. What trees have been left are waterlogged, petrified mockeries, it's unclear what they may have looked like while this island still lived. The buildings are all very inorganic, made of processed material and with the obvious aid of machinery. Whoever lived here was actually very proficient with machinery, it seems. Within the buildings, some residential and some commercial, can be found the rusted, now-useless remains of a technologically advanced society. Personal belongings can also be found, waterlogged and largely ruined, and all in an upset as if they had gone through frequent and destructive earthquakes. Still, they can tell the story of mundane, day-to-day lives here for anyone who cares to look.

Food is going to be a little tricky to come by unless you're a fan of seafood; fishing will be possible for anyone who opts to brave the edge of the storm, and of course there are the bizarre delicacies so thoughtfully raised up from the seafloor, dead among the streets and buildings. Recruits would do well to be careful with those, though. There is a particular kind of seaweed that, while it looks perfectly innocuous, will cause vivid hallucinations an hour after ingesting, for 10 minutes to three hours, depending on how much was ingested.

Above all else, though, is the eerie silence. The storm rages on, but although it completely surrounds the island, it keeps to the perimeter. Even the rain stays off of the island, though the sun is obscured by the heavy, ominous clouds. Thunder rumbles now and then, punctuated by lightning flashes, but there isn't a single sound on this gray, dreary, dead island that wasn't made by an ALASTAIR recruit.

OOC INFO


Recruits will ICly be here for one week, and OOCly the log will last for two. The storm will prevent any travel off of the island. Should anyone feel brave enough to try risking a trip into it, they will find it still possesses that ability to literally sweep recruits off their feet. It might also be due to this mysterious storm that no one on the island can seem to reach out to anyone on the Nalawi islands via jewelry network, nor to any of the NPC recruits they'd met at Oska.

Players who signed up for plot slots will be receiving additional information, which we ask they share with the rest of the characters. You may sign up here for information that can be found while exploring the island, as well. Please direct any questions to the OOC write up.
gutpunching: (108)

Jason Todd, mostly open.

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-03 02:56 am (UTC)(link)
closed to Mabel.

[It's not his best landing. He tries to right himself on reflex and misjudges the distance in the impossible winds and hits the ground a little too hard before he can roll with the impact. And rolling to his feet afterward—doesn't work out the way it should. As soon as he moves too quickly to put too much pressure on his feet, he's slammed with a horrible spike of pain and a gripping bout of nausea that tells him that something is probably very much not right. His ankle collapses, and he hits the sand again before he can get a grip, braced on his hands and knees and blinking the dizziness out of his vision while he gets his bearings. Which is all well and good, if he had the time for it. But he's still close enough to the edge of the ocean for the storm and the rough surf to keep battering the shore at the edges. And the noise of it is enough to mask the approach of one very big and very red crab thing coming way too close at his back.]

closed to Rin.

[Mabel's a good kid, but there's only so much she can really do to help out in these circumstances. Some time later he's pulled together, if not at all rested in the very conspicuous absence of actual painkillers. Alive and alert, if not as mobile as he'd like to be. Definitely habitually paranoid enough to catch the sound of something moving outside the building he's holed up in and assume the worst of wherever they've been whisked away to. Sounds too heavy to be Mabel, which has him wary enough to force himself upright to intercept.

When Rin rounds the corner of the shelter she'll find herself staring down the barrel of a gun. For all its wielder is palefaced and braced against the doorjamb to keep upright, his aim is pretty damn steady, for the split second it takes for her face to register as friendly.
]

residential areas/factory/anywhere there's buildings really. OTA.

[Taking advantage of his mostly-reclaimed mobility, it's time to get the lay of the land. This is no Gotham city, but this is a lot more his speed than the squat island buildings in Komo or the dusty old castle in Oska. It is, however, a hell of a lot more dead than any city he's rolled through. Rusted through and falling apart and silent. Still, he picks a likely looking direction and starts getting vertical for a bird's (if not a Robin's) eye view.

a. Given the eerie silence and stillness of the place, he's not too hard to miss as he picks his way over the rooftops, even from a distance. See something moving up there? Maybe you ought to investigate, if you're able.

b. If you can't, don't worry, he's on his way down. He swings down from a rooftop in a bout of stupidly springy vigilante parkour, landing on a ledge beside a likely-looking window for a little B&E. Problem is, the damn thing is rusted shut. Spotting a potential accomplice down on ground level, he whistles sharply for attention. Be a good sport, huh?

c. Or, later, night is falling and someone's set up some kind of camp for the stragglers to meet up. There's some sense in safety in numbers, even if it takes time for them all to regroup. He's set himself down by the fire with whatever monster fish rations they're serving up today (if you're younger than him, he might casually claim he isn't hungry if you want it.) Mostly, he's got his wrists resting on his knees while he looks thoughtfully at the very mechanical structures in the distance. The dissonance between this and the islands they'd been on before is almost staggering.

Mostly rhetorically—
]

Not in Kansas anymore, huh Toto?

docks. also OTA.

[d. Figures that the first place to try and look for a way off an island would be the docks. Where there's a shipyard, there's usually a ship or two. Unfortunately this shipyard is pretty empty of boats. And pretty overrun with terrible red crab monsters. He's trying not to waste his depleting stores of ammunition if he can help it, which mostly means avoiding confrontation. So he does more dodging than dueling, when he opens the wrong warehouse door to find a hive of terrible monsters inside. Still, he manages to back himself into a corner by sheer bad luck once or twice, eyeing the unstable rafters like he's debating the wisdom of using them to get out of Dodge. An assist wouldn't go entirely amiss.]

[e. Once they find the warship, it's a matter of getting the damn thing operational. Jason's no mechanic, but he's got a working knowledge of a lot of things. Vehicles being one of them. And he's one of the apparently outnumbered portion of the crew that errs more on the technological side than the magical one. So he hangs around the salvage to be useful where he can. At some point he's got his head stuck under a particularly trashed console, fishing through the rusted out remains to see what can be saved. Some (smaller, still very much alive) alien crab seems to have made a home of it. He plucks the thing out of the bowels and tosses it out toward what should be the to be trashed pile of junk. Might have aimed a little high, though. Head's up.]

etc. [wildcard me! hit me up with whatever I missed, general warship repair stuff, new and exciting adventures with gross deep sea fish, huddling for warmth, etc. (why would you ever.) do what makes you happy or hassle me for a custom prompt here or on plurk or smth.]
healplz: (angst | don't want another alde castle)

docks, because i am greedy and demand more threads

[personal profile] healplz 2016-05-03 03:20 am (UTC)(link)
[ Ashraf really, really regrets taking this walk to the docks. He'd heard them first, this ominous sort of scuttling, clicking sound that he's by now pretty familiar with, and he'd frozen to try and figure out where the sound was coming from. The answer was even more unfortunate than the sound: basically everywhere, every direction. So he'd made a quick, quiet retreat to the very same warehouse Jason had just discovered was a bad move, to round it off at two bad moves in rapid succession.

He pulls open the just-shut, ducks inside, and freezes all over again when he sees the crowd and their current target inside. He's got his twin golden rods held at his belt, but he has this suspicion he's going to need a lot more than that to be a proper rescue brigade. But he clears his throat and finds his voice, because he has to:
]

I'll — call them off you. [ It's quiet, aimed at whoever that is over there, sort of a suggestion to be agreed upon more than an immediate action. If this guy has any better ideas, Ashraf would love to hear them. ]
gutpunching: (11)

I can only encourage this notion.

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-03 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
[Even better, bad luck tends to come in threes, so odds are you've got one more bad move o look forward to in your future, Ashraf! (It's Jason, he's probably bad move number three, congrats.)

Separated as they are by the Great Seamonster Sea, they're still within earshot, and definitely within eyeline when Ashraf makes the mistake of ducking into the warehouse after him. Jason's hanging in the near distance by a batch of mysterious machinery that may or may not have been used for maintenance on the very boats that aren't being housed anywhere on the premises. (A tallish thing that looks like a crane, a smattering of things that might be oddly-shaped tools, a whole lot of rusted chains.) The nest of crabs he'd disturbed had been hiding under something that looked like a monstrous forklift, and had cut off his escape before he even realized how outnumbered he was. He's got a grappling gun at his belt that could theoretically get him up and over the swarm if he could find something stable enough to use as an anchor, but the last thing he needs is to bring the whole rusted-through structure down on top of them while he's still inside.

Cornered as he is, he doesn't look all that panicked, so far. Worst case scenario, he does have some firepower at his disposal. But not as much as he'd like. And then this guy comes in.

Well, his hero.
]

Oh, yeah? [You sound real sure about that, bud. Rather than be very Helpful just yet—] And then what, you gonna wave those sticks of yours at 'em until they decide to go home?
healplz: that's 500 zeny, i'm not made of zeny you know (consider | walk to izlude or take kafra?)

[personal profile] healplz 2016-05-03 04:29 am (UTC)(link)
[ They don't have long to discuss it, but... they do have a door. Specifically, Ashraf has a door. And his new friend has... well, machinery. Tall machinery. Ashraf narrows his eyes a little as he considers the options fast, and he keeps his voice low, just loud enough to be heard by the other human in here. ]

I might just. Can you climb? [ A beat, as he unbuckles the two staffs quietly. ] Can they, do you know?
gutpunching: (12)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-04 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[What is it with do-gooders and staff weapons. As the monster things are numerous and annoying but not particularly bright, Ashraf's still gone largely unnoticed, for now. Jason strafes slowly back from the hovering hoard while they weigh their options, and a few of the not-crabs click their weird little claws ominously in his direction. The sonic boom generated by one of them rattles the rusty chains still hanging from some of the structures.

He looks upward toward the would-be crane, then back at the creatures. Good question. Backstepping a few times in the direction of the machinery, and by way of an answer—
]

Good a time as any to find out.

[But climbing he can definitely do, don't worry. Just give him the opening, if you're going to.]
healplz: (cajole | raydric in a +1 muffler? pah.)

[personal profile] healplz 2016-05-06 04:47 am (UTC)(link)
[ Well. It's not as if they have any other plans. Ashraf nods just once, lifting those golden staffs above his head, poised and ready. ]

Good luck.

[ The next word out of his throat is considerably louder, a wordless yell for attention, and he bangs the metal weapons hard against the metal of the doorframe beside him. A week ago it might have rattled them right out of his hands, but he's getting a little more used to this. It's not much, but it's progress.

The whole crowd of them begins to shift and jitter, confused but clearly drawn by the sudden gout of noise as Ashraf keeps up his shouting and banging. He edges back at the same time, dropping down to just one staff as he feels for the handle to the door behind him with the other. They've started shifting toward him. Just a little more interest, then, give this guy a little more room the maneuver, and he can beat a quick retreat.
]
gutpunching: (42)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-09 05:28 am (UTC)(link)
[He's moving as soon as Ashraf starts to make a fuss, bolts immediately to jump onto a set of crates and swing up onto the crane and get some height. It creaks at the joints, rusted and not entirely reassuring while he scales the length of it. But—at first—it holds.

Most of the crab-things take the bait, swerving over toward the louder and more disruptive target, but a few of them decide to stick to trying to follow Jason up the crane. Turns out they can climb, thought they're not really made for it. So they're a hell of a lot slower, but the extra weight—and the extra rattle it puts on the strained structure—doesn't do it a lot of favors.

It's a longish climb, but he's clearly done this sort of thing before. Jason makes it to the rafters in record time and spins to check Asraf's progress. Close enough to the door, and the crab things are still just between them. He could try taking some potshots to thin the herd. Or

He whistles sharply to get Ashraf's attention. Just in case.
]

I'd keep a head's up if I were you.

[—then slams a shoulder into the top of the crane, causing it to swing. It takes maybe three of these before the whole thing rattles, groans....and falls apart in big heavy hunks of projectile metal. Clinging crabs and all.]
healplz: (31)

[personal profile] healplz 2016-05-09 09:03 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Actually, that's not a bad idea. Ashraf had made it to the door and was ready to jerk it open and make his escape, but Jason's move gives him a pause. It gives all the massing creatures a pause, too. Specifically, it makes way more noise than Ashraf can, and they begin to dart over to investigate even as metal keeps falling.

Ashraf begins to grin; it's hard not to, the sight of these shelled monstrosities doing themselves in is a really nice one. He steps out of the path of the upper reach of one of the longer pieces of metal, and... makes a face when it jams into the door. It might not be completely sealed shut, but it's going to take some doing to work it open.
]

Nicely done! [ They're not all crushed, there are still quite a few to be wary of, but it's made a solid dent. He opts not to mention the barricaded door just yet. ] How are your bullets against the shells, any good?
gutpunching: (36)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-10 06:21 am (UTC)(link)
[Whups. Well, one thing at a time. Surely this place has more than one way out, no big deal. There are a few doors that still stand some investigating on the other side of the structure. As for the question—]

If I had the ammo to be playing shooting gallery I'd have a whole lot less altitude, right about now.

[Works fine, it's just expensive. He was lucky enough to come prepared—by force of habit—but he hasn't seen a restock since arrival. They're thinning the herd, though. And he does answer the question, in a fashion. Pulling a pistol out, and draws a bead on the monster closest to Asraf's feet, aiming for the places where the plates of natural armor come together, where it's weakest and has the least chance of ricochet and the most chance of penetration. When he pulls the trigger, it goes down in a gross and twitchy heap.]
healplz: (cajole | raydric in a +1 muffler? pah.)

[personal profile] healplz 2016-05-11 05:05 am (UTC)(link)
Not bad. [ He appreciates that gross and twitchy heap a lot, honestly. It's one less bunch of claws and pincers reaching for him. ] And I think I'll get a little height here myself, if I could bother you for some cover.

[ He doesn't spend long waiting for agreement, just a few seconds more judging his current crowd. Then he sidesteps the next closest one and breaks into a dash for a bit of equipment that looks at least fairly climbable to someone at his skill level (which is about as low as it gets).

He tucks his staffs away again, leaps, and just snatches a hold of one of the lower bars of the thing. He's not quite going to be quick enough to pull his feet up out of range, though, and could really use some more of those bullets. Which is apparently something he trusts Jason to handle, as he works as quickly as he can manage but doesn't look all that worried.
]
gutpunching: (74)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-11 06:12 am (UTC)(link)
[You're putting so much faith in his as-of-yet-untested sense of fair play, Ashraf. That's cute. But the guy's probably earned a couple bullets, even at a premium, so he obliges without complaint. Snipes the first creature out of the way when it tries to purse after Ashraf makes the jump and...eventually pulls himself out of the way. Well. It could be worse.

Helpfully—
]

I like a good narrow escape as much as the next guy, but go on and feel free to put some hustle in it, sometime.

[Never mind, that's not actually "without complaint" or "helpful" at all. Slightly more helpfully, he pulls the trigger on another creature when it tries to use the corpse of its fallen buddy as a platform to snap at Ashraf's ankles as he starts to pull out of reach.]

When's the last time you did a couple chin-ups?

[For such a fit looking guy, you're lagging a little, bud. Your technique could use some work.]
healplz: (cajole | raydric in a +1 muffler? pah.)

[personal profile] healplz 2016-05-11 01:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Ashraf has just enough breath from this exertion (and yes, exertion is running across a floor and pulling himself up onto machinery) for a sigh. With his magic, he wouldn't even have needed to run. ]

That's a good question.

[ He finally pulls himself up fully out of reach, one arm wrapped around a beam to steady himself. ]

I'd have to go with never. [ He glances toward Jason with a wry, vaguely apologetic smile. ] I should have mentioned earlier that you may have run into the most useless recruit here. Sorry about that.

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-12 06:58 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] healplz - 2016-05-12 13:57 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-14 04:55 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] healplz - 2016-05-30 22:03 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-01 04:56 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] healplz - 2016-06-06 04:24 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-07 04:04 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] healplz - 2016-06-07 13:38 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-10 04:10 (UTC) - Expand
defenceless: (serious business)

my prompt...

[personal profile] defenceless 2016-05-03 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
[really, rin should know better than to just wander around this abandoned city completely alone. she's either misguided or confident enough in her own ability to handle whatever might pop up; maybe both.

in any case, jason is greeted by several sights in close succession—blue eyes grow wide as they take in that gun, she stops, and her mouth drops into a frown. rin could defend herself with a spell or even the threat of a spell with the power of a shooting bullet, but she fails to heed that precaution. she's too distracted. she recognizes him. she wants to yell at him, and so she proceeds to do exactly that, in a hushed yet no less sharp and angry tone.]


What are you doing?! Put that down, or I'll make you put it down!

[honestly, it sounds a lot like a mother scolding her child for picking up a rifle he shouldn't be playing with.]
gutpunching: (21)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-03 04:15 am (UTC)(link)
[Not the second coming of lavamonster, then. (Though maybe that would have been less of a hassle.) Not the top of his list of people to deal with right now, but not someone who pings in with any serious alarms, either. He's already easing up by the time she decides to scold him for his caution, thumbing the safety back on before dipping the barrel back down toward the ground. The scolding rolls right off his shoulders. His posture, however, stays rigid. Free hand clamped tight on the doorframe, spine stiff, as if with effort (or pain.) Jaw locked.]

I ought to ask you the same thing, princess.

[What are you doing. Sneaking around like that. (But maybe he's just a little more frayed on the edges than usual. A little sharper on the edges, because his options have narrowed down to shoot first or stand your ground if things go south while he's hobbled, and nothing has sharper teeth than a dog that's been backed into a corner.)]

You're lucky I don't have an itchy trigger finger.
defenceless: (rin super worried)

[personal profile] defenceless 2016-05-03 06:26 pm (UTC)(link)
[she should continue to give him attitude.

or else stomp off and use his behavior as an example for her own, holing up in some abandoned building until this is all over, armed with a gun to kill the slightest threat. it would certainly be a smart, and valid, move.

instead, she steps close to him with no more thought to the gun he still holds. worry quite obviously bleeds into her features. not overwhelmingly, but she can never hide it (even if she thinks she can). does it look sort of familiar?

yeah, she's noticed.]


... Are you all right? [her mouth sets in a thin line. her brow furrows. that voice of hers is suddenly a tad more gentle.]

Are you hurt? If you're in pain—

[she trails off there, allowing it to speak for itself.]
gutpunching: (61)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-05 03:45 am (UTC)(link)
[Ah. To be honest, he'd far prefer the attitude. Again, she's looking at him in that sad soft way all of a sudden and it makes his teeth itch and his hackles raise. Reflexive, he lifts his chin and cocks his head and piles on the asshole attitude like it'll chase her away. His exhale is sharp, and his smile is even sharper. Crooked and wry and not exactly kind.]

You'll what?

[As if she's making a threat, here. It's more belligerent than it really needs to be, but the only thing worse than dealing with aggression is dealing with pity. Braced against the doorframe, he spreads his armed hand as if to indicate the surroundings. They're a little thin on first aid, here, and what they have probably ought to keep to the life-threatening until they're not playing Gilligan's Island anymore. And really, it's gonna be a matter-of-time thing even in the best case scenario.]

I think the emergency room's a little out of jurisdiction. But I'm a big boy, Doc, I can take a few lumps before throwing in the towel for good.

[Y'know, again. It's painful and very inconvenient, too swollen to really tell how bad it is and ringing too sharply up his nerves at the least provocation not to be worse than he'd like. But the Lazarus Pit didn't make a meta of him—he's only human, just a stubborn one. As evidenced by the way he keeps himself standing, squared up and strangely solid in spite of it. Could always be worse.]
defenceless: (hopeless blushing)

[personal profile] defenceless 2016-05-05 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
[she isn't scared. she doesn't shrink away. if anything, rin approaches further, near enough to reach out a hand and touch him should she so wish and she almost does, but of course nothing about jason would make that a good choice.

he's infuriating. he's a smart-ass and rude and deliberately prickly, and he calls her things like "doc" or "princess" that, to her, breathe condescension. briefly, rin wonders if this is why gilgamesh took such issue with her when she was upset; she was putting up such an obvious cover to disguise what she didn't want others to know.]


You jerk.

[thankfully, perhaps, rin doesn't hold back. a taste of the insults and attitude returns, but it's more like a girl snapping at someone who irritated her post-crying spell; she's direct, but muted. accusing him, but soft. the translation? just cut the crap.]

I'm not playing around. Let me help you. There's no telling what anything can do to us here or what will happen to us, so it's better to err on the side of caution. You can at least let me look at it.

[well. he didn't exactly tell her much of anything. her ears burn a little red at possibly jumping the gun.]

Should anything be wrong, I mean.
gutpunching: (27)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-09 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
["Jerk" he expects, because he's deliberately pushing for it. He's got a way of getting under people's skin when he wants, because the right combination of words on a bullseye can be worth just as much as a bullet. He cocks his head and watches her reaction closely, stands at a stalemate while he considers her. And maybe his fingers shift on the doorframe, and his smile fades a little out of "shit eating" levels of asshole and into something a little harder to parse. Pushing himself away from the doorframe so she can pass, he holsters his piece and lets himself lean into the wall a little more heavily.]

Get the door.

[If you're coming in, lets not let the rest of the island in after you. It's not letting his guard down, but it's progress.]

You get your merit badge in first aid yet?

[Even so, it might not make much difference.]
defenceless: (super duper tsun)

[personal profile] defenceless 2016-05-09 03:10 am (UTC)(link)
[and so, on that day, jason todd's heart grew three sizes bigger...

just kidding. she's not liable to put much stock in it just for something as simple as this. (if he didn't allow her inside, she was prepared to take matters into her own hands a little more urgently.)

it's with the steady confidence of a girl who's worried about him, but who's also considering slugging him in the gut at any moment, that rin edges past, head tipped up and providing attitude for attitude. it just drips "that's more like it"—she doesn't even have to say it, her tepid approval is that obvious. good boys listen to what she demands.]


Did you get yours in being insufferable?

[she eases the door shut behind her, slowly.]

I don't need a badge with what I can do even when I'm down and out.
gutpunching: (33)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-09 03:32 am (UTC)(link)
[Jason "secretly desperate for attention" Todd, everyone.

He tips his head back and shuts his eyes and grins in a crooked way. It's a little strained, hard to see, hair is sticking to the back of his neck while he keeps his weight braced back against the wall.
]

Oh, yeah. I'd be an eagle scout if I didn't give up on birds a while back.

[Hah. This is clearly only funny to him, but he doesn't seem inclined to explain. Once she's inside, she'll find the place used to be some kind of working facility. He's crashed here with Mabel's help, after crashlanding on the shore. There some water in a salvaged bottle on the ground beside a makeshift place to sleep. A scavenged rebar crutch sitting beside him against the wall. A still-intact table and a couple chairs in the smallish room, but not a real living space like you'd find deeper in the island. He tips his head over toward the table.]

You can sit down. [Despite the discourse, he also doesn't seem inclined to follow his own advice, right away. Not entirely unironically—] I'd apologize for being a bad host, by gosh, but circumstances being what they are—
defenceless: (authoritative rin)

[personal profile] defenceless 2016-05-09 03:53 am (UTC)(link)
[when he's done grinning against the wall at his private joke or whatever the hell rin thinks he's doing, he'll find that she's welcomed herself far into the interior already and she's even moving the chairs apart, her gaze darting from the table down to the "bed" until she fixes her attention on him again.

speaking quickly and as though she's used to interrupting and being heard, rin cuts him off briskly with a]


I would rather fix your injury.

[waving her hand to emphasize her point. duh, jason. does he enjoy being in pain or something? c'mon, it will give him more attention.]
gutpunching: (15)

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-09 05:29 am (UTC)(link)
[Appreciate his terrible sense of opaque irony, Rin.

Apparently he can't even do this without being Difficult about it, because he takes his time pushing off the wall, and he watches her warily all the while even once he does. The nearest chair is close enough for him to drop down into, and that's probably no small coincidence.
]

Not a whole lot to fix. [Not from a traditional medicinal standpoint, anyway.] Bet I bruised a few ribs on the way down, but that's not the big problem. If that boot comes off it's probably not going back on any time soon.

[That is, the leg he hasn't been putting any pressure on. Too swollen for it, which is why he'd left the boot on to stabilize it, makeshift splinted at the ankle with a sturdy piece of scrap. If it's not broken it's still scrambled enough to feel like it. The question is, what does she think she can do about it?]
defenceless: (huh what archer)

[personal profile] defenceless 2016-05-09 09:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[rin eases a chair next to his without asking for permission, but she does it so carefully and gingerly, granting him a wide berth, that it's almost as if she's approaching a feral animal. nevertheless, they're close enough together that it works, and perhaps it sends a definite message.

she listens to him patiently. whether jason prefers it or not, her eyes lightly scan over him, nothing more than a neutral search for the problems he'd mentioned. that leg with the boot at least doesn't look pleasant to lug around. she can't gather much about it from where she sits, and rin steels her expression to avoid appearing as concerned—and confused, he was actually going to refuse help for this?—as she wants to be. she turns to him on the seat of her chair and it's probably incredibly obvious now that she's wearing a big ol' leaf for a skirt.

why?

rin pats her thigh, making the leaf rustle in her lap.]


... Okay. Bring it up. [and put it on her lap.] If you can move it that much safely, anyway.

[yeah, that's what she said.

she adds in:]


Trust me.
Edited (rephrased) 2016-05-09 21:49 (UTC)

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-10 08:01 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-11 03:25 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-11 05:32 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-14 04:25 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-15 06:20 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-17 04:01 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-17 06:10 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-17 07:11 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-17 13:41 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-18 02:11 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-18 02:43 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-18 04:03 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-18 05:02 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-18 11:06 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-18 12:07 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-20 04:13 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-20 04:49 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-20 22:09 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-21 00:28 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-24 17:05 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-24 19:57 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-26 19:27 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-26 22:23 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-27 00:11 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-27 01:03 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-27 02:38 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-27 03:48 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-05-27 04:54 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-05-27 05:36 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-01 05:59 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-06-01 18:18 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-10 04:39 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-06-10 05:34 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-11 16:43 (UTC) - Expand

2/2

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-06-12 05:41 (UTC) - Expand

he can be a gentleman

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-12 06:27 (UTC) - Expand

what a guy

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-06-12 07:39 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-13 20:43 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-06-13 22:19 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-14 00:32 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-06-14 00:49 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-14 02:37 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-06-14 03:09 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] gutpunching - 2016-06-14 07:03 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] defenceless - 2016-06-15 06:21 (UTC) - Expand
ackingcraycray: (044)

Whoa a prompt just for me! also sorry this got long.

[personal profile] ackingcraycray 2016-05-03 07:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[She's been running along the shore. Sure, she's been bruised up, breaking the fall for D.G. (who's being miserable but still loping along at her side, mewling pathetically in a plea for her to listen and come out of the rain) but she's not going to stop looking until she's sure, until she finds something.

Or someone.

Mabel sees him from further up. It's mostly a lump, but it's a lump in the shape of a man. Worse still, there's a bigger, uglier, more monstrous crab thing than even the ones that attacked them on Komo. It's more than big enough to cart a whole adult off, and it's got its sights set on easy prey.

Her braced teeth grit.]


Not on my watch...D.G.! Get to safety! I'll handle this.

[She cocks her grappling hook upright. Or she would if there were a cocking thing. Scratch that, she mimes the motion.] Kch-cchk!

[Also she has to bat at the lion cub's ribs with her foot before he gets the hint. He's more than happy to scarper off, leaving Mabel to business.

And what business it shall be.

Near the shore is a tall, precarious, crumbling brick home. It's almost like something back home, except littered with coral and done with a style that looks both antiquated and futuristic at the same time. But there's sections fallen out already, and that's all she needs.]


HEY! CRAB-JERK!

[A rock glances off the beast's armored back. It spins, looking for the offender. Said offender is several yards away, dancing on the spot.]

NEENER NEENER NEENER! BET YOU CAN'T CATCH ME WITH THOSE STUBBY STICK LEGS! PBBT-PBBT-PLBBBT!!

[It's the wet raspberries that does the trick. Abandoning the inert pray for now, it chases after the smaller, more tender morsel. She's jeering at it all the while, dancing ever closer to the building. It's speedy, but she's got the head start, and the means for a quick getaway.

When she reaches the base she waits for it to come close. Closer.]


Oh noooo, looks like it's the end, pals! I'm a goner! I'm done! I'm Thanksgiving dinner—PSYCH!

[The pincers snap down on empty air. Mabel's already been hoisted up to the exposed top floor. And with the storm and the water-weaked mortar, it's child's play to just lift a foot and kick—]

Bon voyage, Suckah!

[The wall comes crumbling down, burying the unsuspecting lobster monster beneath a pile of bricks. It's like three or four floors up, even if it's not a kill, that should stun it right?]
gutpunching: (45)

bless mabel for existing.

[personal profile] gutpunching 2016-05-05 01:44 am (UTC)(link)
[He claws his way back to his bearings in standard stubborn fashion, shaking off the disorientation from the hurricane-winds that threw him here and the sudden shock of rude-awakening that came with it. Just in time to catch the show.

The scene is a pretty simple one once it plays out—one Mabel Pines skipping away from one multilimbed crab monster before it could get the jump on him instead. He reaches for a weapon on reflex once he gets up to speed, braced on one hand and steadying his aim to gun the thing down while Mabel plays bait, but— Well. Maybe she doesn't need it.

The wall crumbles. And it's down, but maybe not actually out. The rubble shifts, and that's either because it's settling or because something is struggling and sticking around to find out which sounds like a waste of time and potential ammunition.

So. He stows his gun and grits his teeth to shove himself up to his feet, despite the actual shades of agony that try to come with it. It's hard to tell if something's actually awfully broken, or (even better) if walking on it is going to make it worse, but now isn't the time to worry about it. Tightly—
]

Nice aim. [Maybe a little unrefined on the quipping front, but better than her last showing, that's for sure. (What he probably means, maybe, is "thank you.") Heavily favoring one side, he pulls up to stand and gestures at a hunk of scrapped rebar sitting next to her.] Throw me that.

[Not the best crutch in the world, but it'll do.]
Edited 2016-05-05 04:05 (UTC)