lucetilogs | There'll be trouble when the kidz come out

There'll be trouble when the kidz come out

Who: All remaining draftees
What: Zombies! Zombies! Zombies!
When: The 29th to 31st
Where: Vaskoth
Summary: Please read here for event information
Rating: B for BRRAAAIIIINSSSS

On the 29th, the Malnosso announce over the radios that the power cap will be lifted to a full 100%. Carol broadcasts a message.

On the 30th, the Malnosso declare Vaskoth completely lost. Those with radio access will discover that the enclosure is to be bombed.

On the 31st, survivors will have one last chance to evacuate or try to find the cure. 3PM is do or die.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, is Gregor paranoid? No wonder we get on so well.

[His lips twist.]

I'm afraid it is. That doorknob hit nearly as hard as Lady Sif in a temper.

...point out the doorknob later so I might have words with it.

[Not that she expects him to do so, now or ever, but the idea is somewhat amusing. She lifts her hands to set it, hesitates before actually touching him, and quirks a brow.]

May I?

The doorknobs all look so alike, Lady. I'm afraid I am not equal to such an exacting task.

[He nods.]

You certainly won't make it worse.

Your faith in my abilities is overwhelming.

[She snorts and rests her thumbs along either side of his nose, bracketing the cracked cartilage. It wasn't that far out of line.]

On three. One, two-

[Of course she cracked it back into enlightenment early. She always did.]

And three.

[He had expected that.

He still curses, tears of pain flooding his eyes. It's words in an alien language that no know good translation to a human, but the tone says it all.

He backs away, one hand cupped over his nose.]

[She offers gauze for any blood that might have been dislodged, an ice pack in her other hand.]

Breathe through it.

[Pain must be entirely different when he did not have his godly resistance. Part of her is worried. Part doesn't care. A smaller, more useless part of her is viciously pleased that he has some idea of what it is everyone else must endure in this place now.

She does what she can to ignore it.]

[Loki takes the gauze, and concentrates on breathing. Really, he'd just like to punch Adele, but he knows that won't do any good at all. And she did, technically, just help him.

Pain is definitely a different experience now. He doesn't like it at all.]

...One moment.

[Morphine he didn't care for, and he would need something he could use and still be able to work while taking. There was a small rattle at the bottom of her case- a plastic bottle with but a handful of pills left. Vicodin. She offers them over with a bottle of water.]

This shouldn't make your mouth taste odd.

I... appreciate the offer. But not knowing what they might do to me, it would be foolish indeed to experiment now. [Even deprived of his natural powers, he is still most assuredly not human.]

[She had thought as much, but it would be callous to not at least make the offer. The pills and water are set aside and she tilts her head in the direction of the stack of bandages she'd set in the room before she fetched him.]

Strip.

Goodness, Lady. Such demands you make. [He begins unfastening his collar, a teasing smirk on his lips.] With Obi-wan like a brother to me, this seems most inappropriate.

Yes, I find nothing more enticing in a man than a bloodied and broken nose and a veritable map of stitches across his torso. If he isn't bruised and wounded, I simply cannot feel any manner of attraction for him.

[It's low. Dry. Slightly pained- she's said this before to someone else entirely. Someone kinder with a crackly laugh and an easy smile.]

Just strip, Loki. I'll resist somehow, I'm certain.

I don't know how. You must be made of sterner stuff than most women. [He is joking. Off comes the shirt. And then, ultimately, the pants, because there are a few scars there as well.]

I'm certain you've a bevy of swooning beauties waiting for you somewhere.

[She snorts and shook her head, pulling out gauze for dabbing and bandages for rewrapping.]

Has anything pulled or popped since I last saw you?

They're so abundant you can't throw a stone without hitting one.

[...uh oh. He clears his throat a bit awkwardly.]

After I struck the doorknob with my face, I... may have... fallen onto my back.

[For the moment, he's forgotten that two of the lines of red stitches have also dissolved.]

Edited 2012-10-31 03:54 (UTC)

Oh I don't know Loki. I can throw a stone quite far.

[Working with Gambit made that much easy-

...

She blinks a moment, starts, and stares at him.]

And you did not mention this sooner? The worst of-

You.

You're an idiot.

[He gives her the most haughty look he can manage.]

After having been savaged by a doorknob, it seemed the least of my concerns. It hurt ceaselessly already.

All the men in my life are Idiots. Even when they are gods.

[She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.]

Turn around, then. Let me see what mess that knob has made of your rear.

I have allowed no knobs even close to my rear, thank you.

[Have a nasty look. He doesn't like being called an idiot. At all.

But he does turn around. Even if he had the magic necessary for a good smiting, he needs her to change his bandages first.]

Rear, back, the opposite side of you, etc. English is not my favorite language for all the semantics.

[She waved a hand vaguely and offers Loki the blankest face to his nasty look. Six older sisters. He will never be as bitchy as they were. It's a slim pair of scissors she uses to cut and unravel the fabric from his back, frowning at the bruising she sees there.]

...how badly did this knob ravage you? Was it just the once or repeated?

Only once, if quite definitively. I'm afraid I fell rather heavily.

Edited 2012-10-31 04:24 (UTC)

It's more difficult to take a punch when you're on our level, I suppose.

[You only fell if you weren't braced and ready to roll with it.]

It is... very different. For many reasons.

Normally, I feel attacks.

Edited 2012-10-31 04:27 (UTC)

Preemptively, as to avoid them or...?

[She has the bulk of the outermost layer cut off and unwound, now. The rest seemed a slightly damp mess over the lines she knew to have wounds. Fantastic.]

Yes. I can... I feel them coming. I can snatch an arrow from the air. [Clint Barton knows this first person.]

[He is trembling slightly with tension, even as his voice is calm. He doesn't like this. It's more pain than he's used to, and he feels horribly vulnerable.]