lucetilogs | We're more than carbon and chemicals

Entry tags:

We're more than carbon and chemicals

Who: All Draftees
What: Fighting Third Party
When: 26th, 27th, 28th, 1st, and 2nd
Where: The Southern Farmlands
Summary: See here for overall details.
Rating: Probably gonna be gorey in places :|a

DOESN'T NEED A CUT. People should know how this works, if not, just follow other people's lead. I'm gonna set up some strategist threads at the top, for the four strategists to use if they want to, otherwise people should start their own threads.

((Mod Note: Since this has been asked a few times, just fyi, the livestock do not talk. Happy hunting!))

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[Well, the fighting's just about done, and Jay is satisfied with the work he's done. Most (if not all) of the enemies have been eliminated, so all that's left is to wait to be shifted back to the dorms. For now, he's walking around the field to cool down.]

[Elsewhere, Shikamaru stops next to the barn, his speed giving way some as he can no longer mold the chakra to give it that extra edge. He could have used his shadows for what's coming next, but he can make do.

With another glance to the others to make sure they have the situation covered for now, he darts into the barn. There's a staircase, and he takes the steps three at a time until he reaches the second level. Most of the equipment remains down below, but there's still some things up here - older klunkier models of the skiffs in various states of repair. Lightweight enough not to bring the second level of the barn down, but heavy enough to do some damage when it does.

Quickly, Shikamaru moves to place explosive tags (pre-charged at the dorm) under each skiff, before reaching into a pocket of his flak jacket for wire and kunai. This next part will be trickier.]

[ooc: feel free to skip me for a few rounds - Shikamaru is just setting things up here.]

The soldiers were starting to chant as the Elite stood waiting for Sparrow to attack again. The pirate, on the other hand, was backing toward the doctor.

"I'm not really the gladiolatorial type, mates. Really. Far more fun pitting small chickens against each other. Though Kennedy may have vaporized them all by now, actually."

One side of the hayloft's great double doors was shut, but the other hung open, and just waiting for McCoy to be shoved through it to tumble the distance to the soft pile of hay below. Jack grinned up at the advancing Elite.

"Not even the janitorial type. Or the phantasmagorical."

At that, he sent McCoy tumbling through the air, down to the soft, waiting hay. Oh, how the doctor would hate that. Jack shut the open door behind him, throwing the bolt on it. There would be another way out. Another rope, or walk, or a way. There always was.

"Pirate. Pirate, lads..."

Annie. [Jack manages that whisper, at least, before he falls asleep under her care. It won't be a restful sleep by any means; the knee hurts too badly for that. There is too much discomfort, too much thirst, and maybe even too much happiness. But he will take what he can get, as always.]

[A hand suddenly reaches out of the barn to grasp her sword wrist. Really, he's just trying to ensure that she doesn't startle and stab him.]

Dawn.

Stars. He could see them and the doctor was only vaguely aware what was happening now as he felt hands grapple at him and, for a moment, he wondered why the soldiers were messing with him and if there was any damn point in trying to struggle and delay the inevitable. Their death. It wasn't -- he had been a damn idiot and now the two of them were going to die in these damn farmlands. In their war; in their cause; a war he had no interest in ever fighting and one Jack certainly didn't.

McCoy wanted to apologize to him. The guilt was like ice in his stomach.

And so, he thrashed against the hands pulling at him and barely understood what the pirate was murmuring to the soldiers in his typical, intoxicated slur -- was he taunting them? -- as he craned his up head for one, final look at the pirate before he was pushed, sent spiralling from the hayloft and into the callous embrace of unconsciousness before hitting the hay below.

[ she should take this chance to lift him carefully up and carry him back to base, but her arm is still in enough pain to dissuade her. she would have to wait. buffy had expected to feel more peaceful about this but...no. no peace for her. perhaps it has something to do with the lack of actual speaking or the argument that had prefaced it or the fact that nothing had truly been decided. and there is still a battlefield out there and her sister is somewhere on it.

and there is the part where she can't even begin to put a name what this might be. certainly, she does not feel prepared to go proclaiming the fact that the window's open to the rest of the army.

buffy reaches across his body and does her best stealthy sleeve rolling, uncovering that tattoo she only briefly saw in good spirits. ]

... [Taking a cursory look of that wound. Which got dirty in the fighting, treatment or not. ... are those ripped stitches?

...ffff... of course. Silly him. Of course they're ripped. Being Captain AND doctor of a pirate crew has taught him a few simple things about fighters and medical treatment.

You have about ten minutes top before you have to redo everything again. Because, face it, there is no such thing as taking it easy for those of the shounen persuasion.

(... nevermind he's just as bad when it counts. ...ssshhhh...)

At least you're being co-operative though. That wins you a few points in your favour.]

No, they're not, unfortunately. Especially with that wing clipped the way it is and sapping your strength along with the bloodloss. You're going to have to rest up a while before going back to the field.

[And with that, you are going to get an IV inserted in your arm and a bag of plasma hooked up to that line to help bring back up your total blood volume. Then once that's done with, he will be switching over to the packs of red blood cells to bring up your hemoglobin levels.

That and a hmmm as he catches sight of all the other wounds littering your body. He's going to have quite a bit of work once he finishes with that back laceration and redoes the treatment on the leg wound.]

How are things out there?

There was far less taunting after McCoy was safe. Far more business. Jack kept his back to the wall, thinking, thinking.

"You don't want to be killing me, now do you, lads? I know where the fighters are camped. I've studied all their charts, haven't I? That's a shiny bit of information that any large wingéd swordsman such as yourself might be proud to bring back to his General."

The Elite grinned at this, then lunged for the pirate. Sparrow had time to notice that his enemy's teeth were filed into points; then he had to fight for his life.

Edited 2011-03-01 06:07 (UTC)

[ She hears Nami before she sees her.

After all, the affects hit her at roughly the same time they did Sanji. It took a second to register -- it was so sudden, at first it was like a terrible wound, when it takes the pain a moment to hit you and at first there's only the yawning, empty sense of something being awfully wrong -- but once it hit...

Still. Still. Still she makes her way over, running somewhat on autopilot. She hasn't yet realized her color change to bright green. ]

Nami? What happened?

[Grell raises an eyebrow at the power surge and then smiles again. Good to know not to sneak up on Angel anytime soon.]

Having a bit of fun while we "perform our duties" isn't so bad, now is it?

[After finishing off her area, Grell was just relaxing amid the bloodbath she'd created. Or she was until she felt that one little nuisance to her life going by.

Hello, Jay, time to be stalked from the shadows.

As Jay is walking around, Grell shifts out of human perception and follows. It's just so much fun to see him acting as if nothing were wrong. Jumping ahead though, Grell appears (seemingly out of thin air) with a bloody chainsaw resting against one shoulder.]

Hello, Jayjay.

What fun is there to be had in this?

It's artistic, isn't it? Red is such a complement to the color white!

[Said with a dramatic flourish! That slowly turns into a rather creepy smile.]

They're receiving the most beautiful deaths in the world at our hands - we should enjoy it, to pay homage to their lives.

[So Grell turns out to be immune to Jay's ninja senses...something the boy isn't too pleased with when Grell suddenly appears in front of him. He stops in place, carefully eyeing the bloody chainsaw.]

And...what is it that you want?

[Grell sees Jay eying the weapon and brings it around, grinning.]

Beautiful, isn't she? I always wondered when the two of you would meet.

Very nice.

[Spoken very sarcastically, and one can almost hear the unspoken "Now get it out of here" retort.]

[Gold's definitely in the area. This was one of those times where he decided to split off from Simon and fight solo; he couldn't do all the work from Gurren Lagann alone, right? In his world, a Pokémon Trainer fights alongside their Pokémon, and now was no different.

Still, he would be damned if he was about to let one of his friends get hurt on his watch. So, Kida, watch out for that newly formed block of ice that's encasing a soldier that was about to strike you from behind.]

I don't think you quite understand me, Jayjay.

[With a pull of a cord, the engine and the blade jumps to life.]

She wants to say hello.

[With the roar of the chainsaw, Jay slips his hands into his pockets, tapping his foot.]

I hear her quite clearly.

[He is clearly not liking what the death god is implying here...]

[...]

[No, really.]

[...........]

[Yue just regards Grell for a very long moment before turning away again, curving one broad white wing forward to examine it carefully.]

Their deaths are simply necessary to preserve others'. There is no beauty in that.

The gathered crowd of spectators cheered and howled as the battle progressed. Jack realized with a half-smile that bets were being placed. He had a pretty good guess as to where he stood in the odds.

He wiped sweat from his brow and tried to keep his concentration as he circled with the larger fighter, who had the further reach and the advantage in almost every way. Still, the pirate had his speed. He had his agility and sense of timing. And he had a plan, a wonderful plan that involved leaping from the edge of the loft and using his small and somewhat ineffectual black wings to slow the fall.

A sparrow not quite flying, not quite falling--that was his trademark, after all.

"What's all this then, eh? Are we not brothers-in-....feathers? Practically second or third cousins, us, hm? Should be peaceful-like, not--" he leaped back as the other fighter's sword nearly swiped off his head. "Right--THAT wasn't very nice, mate. I don't choose to play when I don't like the company, savvy? Cheers."

There is a time to fight, and a time to run; he had bought McCoy plenty of time to get away, and that made Sparrow happy. Jovial, even. Now his own time to run had come, and not a moment too soon. With a jaunty wave at the crowd, and a gold-and-ivory smile for the Elite, Jack turned and leaped from the edge of the hayloft. He had no fear of falling, or of heights, because he was not quite falling, ever. He strained his wings out to their full span, trying to catch as much resistance as he could--angling them to soar.

It was going to be all right, if he could only get round to where Bones must have fallen.

Jack had known, of course, that there would be pursuit when he ran away. When the guard unit did catch him by the door, they didn't hurt him too badly before the Elite joined them. Token hurts, those were, and he shut his eyes and accepted them as such.

But he found himself looking the needle-toothed gladiator in the eye when the larger man caught up and lifted him by the shirt front. Sparrow spat out a tooth and some blood and gold and grinned at him.

"Everything were beautiful, mate. Nothing hurt."

There was no answer from the enemy as he methodically tore those soft black wings from Sparrow's shoulders and trampled them onto the dusty straw. The body he flung casually against the wall to land in a huddled heap not far away, and none of the suddenly disinterested squadron seemed to notice it or care as they dispersed from the shadowy cavern of the old barn and marched away over the sunlit farmlands.

Edited 2011-03-02 01:48 (UTC)

But not clearly enough.

[With that, Grell attacks, swinging the chainsaw at Jay's head.]

Oh, but there is. The beauty of humanity, the tragedy of life, the bittersweet triumph of those who must kill or be killed! It's beautiful beyond belief!

[Saber has always been a perfectionist, so fighting down multiple enemies take longer for her. If she needed to finish off quickly she could have just unleashed Excalibur and be done with them within a few seconds. But, that wasn't the way she wanted to do it. So, she finishes off her enemies a few minutes later than Jack, admittedly glad that he didn't intrude like the last time. It would ruin the momentum she had built up to now.

So when the last one falls, she takes a moment to breath, and then turns back to Jack.]

You are unharmed, yes?

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We're more than carbon and chemicals

Last Day, anywhere

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Day 3, around noon

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[2nd day]

Re: Last Day, anywhere

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2/2 ;;

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