DRAFT LOG #2: The Battle Game!

[lucetimods]

Who: Everyone on the draft
What: Fighting bad guys!
When: Today (after 12PM) to the 19th, in the evening
Where: The Mining Facility
Summary: It's an underground mine! And the Malnosso want you to kill and capture all the bad guys! Oh, but don't let the rocks fall on you. That could hurt.
Rating: B for BLOOD. Seriously. People are going to die. People have already died. We're not going to make it out of here. We're all screwed, it's Game Over, man!

Everything you need to know is listed here and also this way. If you haven't signed up yet and want to be on this draft, then go do it and stop being lazy!

Comments

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

None that are particularly interesting, I'm afraid.

[herotypical]

I think I'll be the judge of what's interesting or not, thanks.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I suppose it will not suffice to say that I have never met a pretty woman whom Jack Aubrey did not, upon meeting her, instantly adore and make it clear to her he did so?

[herotypical]

Well, gee. [ she jokes. ] I must not be pretty enough, then. I think it took him quite a few months to bother saying anything of the sort to me -- and that might've been the dress. At the ball. Although it's possible he was talking about the Christmas tree.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I find that very difficult to believe. [Small, blond. And her sense of humour suggested to Stephen that Jack was undoubtedly taken by her. ...As he was by nearly every woman.] Perhaps the shock of this place merely convinced him to hold his tongue.

[herotypical]

...Would I lie to you?

[ she nudges him with her hooked elbow. jesting with him despite the blood. ] I'm not offended. Maybe he didn't take to my jeans.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I would blame the strangeness of this place rather than anything about you, my dear. [He chuckles, leading her now into the camp, toward where his medical supplies are.]

Please, do sit.

[herotypical]

It's cool. I'm no stranger to being looked over for other, prettier, less-creepy creatures.

[ she's just counting down until sparrow figures that part out.

give her a moment to at least look resistant before she sits down. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

Do you have a change of clothes? [The question is asked as he's in his medical case and retrieving bandages. A small, small bowl of standing water-- boiled after gotten from a pool in the caves but then left-- is used to wash the wound before he begins to wrap it.]

[herotypical]

I've got one change thereof. Why?

[ wary. that cut on her leg -- he wouldn't have to cut around it, would he? horror. she smoothly (but not so secretly) slides one flat palm over that cut on her thigh. pretending it's not there. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I can't properly bandage your leg over your trousers, my dear.

I can either ask you to remove them [which he imagined would not go over well] or I can cut the fabric just above them and you can, once I have wrapped it properly, change.

[herotypical]

[ letting him tend to the arm had been humouring him. but this? this became an inconvenience.

she shakes her head. ] Nuh-uh. The leg's fine.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

It needs to be wrapped, my dear, or it risks infection.

[herotypical]

I don't get infected. I'm very...infection free. Of all kinds.

[ more huffy than angry. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I want to wash it and wrap it. Nothing more severe. [Ah, the lovely "doctor" tone.]

[herotypical]

Then I'm afraid to tell you that it takes a whole lot more than that to get into my pants. Or me out of them, as the case may be.

[ yep. she rebuffs that tone with her own seriously non-serious one. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

I will insist.

[herotypical]

...So will I.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

It needs to be cleaned up and wrapped.

[herotypical]

I'm not sure that's really the case. I've gone unpatched with plenty worse. Really. Honestly.

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

Not with me as your physician. I won't allow it.

[herotypical]

[ h-hers?

her physician? ] Stephen. You're a sweet guy and I like you a lot but you're not...you -- [ she bites down on her bottom lip.

bones. it would feel like a betrayal. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

Right now, I am. Someone has to see you looked after in at least this fight, and damned if I'm going to ignore your injuries.

[And this is where we see the "insensitive" part come out. It doesn't happen often. Just... sometimes. Like now.]

Now. Let me bandage it up.

[herotypical]

[ silently, she holds out the arm. let him deal with that first while she sulked and reconsidered and agonized over the leg. ]

[halftheduet.livejournal.com]

[Stephen washes the wound carefully, applying rubbing alcohol to the cloth then the wound after. He has, at least, incorporated that into his tools of the trade.

Then, once the injury is clean, he begins to wrap the wound carefully, skilled fingers doing the work they're best at.]