TERRACE Draft - Remaining Days

[lucetimods]

Who: All Draftees
What: All hell breaks loose
When: From the 27th to the 1st.
Where: TERRACE!
Summary: Information post here
Rating: Varies on thread, please mark explicit material.

This post covers the second to sixth day! Be sure to check the info post on the timeline to know what's up. At 2AM on the 27th, the attack will break out while most people are sleeping. Be sure to use the above info post for any plotting needs you might have. Enjoy!

Some random NPC quotes about the island itself.

Be sure to tag this post appropriately: [canon] character name

Comments

[250mhzwabl]

Ow, fine. Be that way.

[Still half-tense with pain, he went back to burying half of his face against Eugene's shoulder, turning to the unwelcome task of actually focusing on the pain in order to say where it was. He tried to make his words minimal, helpful, swallowing back the throbbing, burning sensation as it flared with a draft of wind against angry nerves.]

Right arm. Right foot, a bit. And . . . I don't know. Like someone knocked me down and started kicking.

[The world was settling into place bit by bit, and he found more and more recent memories filtering in with dim recognition of their surroundings. They were supposed to be . . . working on a machine? Right, a generator, but not one of the ones from Abel. They were in Luceti and on a draft, had been for several days. That was it, the vague shape of it, though he found himself reaching for and mysteriously failing to grasp anything more specific.]

Did- did we finish the job yet?

[z_jay]

The job is over, Jack.

[He's not arguing this either, staunchly stubborn in his decision. Especially considering that he isn't sure the extent of the damage, and that's what was eating him the most inside. The guilt at having been so cocky to think Jack would always be fine, that he was invincible, even when he knew just how human he really is.]

S-sorry about the chest thing, but I wasn't kicking you. You weren't breathing, I was... well. They made sure we all knew CPR so.

[Now they were nearing the medical facilities, passing a few draftees on the way and leaving them in his dust. He wasn't too keen on stopping right now, priorities of his firmly in place. He was a journalist, not a soldier, there wasn't any room to doubt his motivations.

Putting it in park, he turned to Jack and dragged him in close for a brief but sound kiss before turning and opening his door]

That's the only mouth to mouth I want to be giving you from now on.

[250mhzwabl]

[The near-silence of driving through the base afforded just enough time for that implication to filter through Jack's mind, down past the trauma-slowed processes and into the part of his brain that put together things just from suggestions. Eugene had-

He had been . . . and Eugene had-

Something in him pushed past the fear of the idea and tried to make it fit - the two of them as the people in those faceless hypothetical scenarios the doctor painted, the people who she insisted had to move fast, had to know they were going to be tired and frightened and pushing a good palm's breadth into ribs. Had to know that they were probably not going to succeed.

The quip was the absolute last straw, the thing that snapped his mind out of heart-thudding, panicky denial to desperation. Eugene turned and he lunged after him, a fling of weight and limbs that ended in a desperate crush of mouths, hands knotted so tight in Eugene's hair it had to hurt. But he wanted that, even trembling with the effort of giving it. He wanted to prove those thoughts a little less true, no matter what it took.]

[z_jay]

[For this long he'd managed to hold most of it together-- at least on the outside, inside he was near-enough to falling apart he'd feel ashamed later. The kiss was abrupt, however, slightly painful against his scalp but the rough scrape of Jack's jaw, slightly chapped lips, and an edge of desperation combined in the right way to have him give in. And he did, both arms wrapping around him with a soft sound sent into Jack's mouth. He tipped his head and kissed him like a drowning man might seek air, frantic and full-bodied, giddy in how he seemed so much better now than minutes before. Had it only been minutes?

A wet sound stuck in the back of his throat and he gave out a shuddering breath through his nose. Relief so tangible that Jack might feel the suppressed sob that threatened. But reason and fear snuck up on him and he tried to pull away, to speak to Jack about how they shouldn't-- couldn't waste time because he was injured and Eugene wasn't sure how badly. He didn't make move to unwrap his arms from him, though, door still ajar.

At first he really couldn't bring himself to do it but his desire to keep Jack with him won over the need to kiss him silly.]

Just-- let Adele have a look at you, okay? I saw it h-happen, it wasn't your most... stellar moment.

[250mhzwabl]

[The sound didn't escape Jack, and it dug icy talons into him that he stubbornly buried in more kissing, until his fingers trembled and ribcage screamed at him and Eugene away as easily as if he were a kitten. He felt wretched, but he didn't want to leave the vehicle - not when Eugene was here, practically breaking down, so warm and immediate and needing him.

Reluctantly, he cropped his hands to curl around the back of his neck, meeting that look despite the way it made him feel even more cold and ill and unsure. He hadn't seen that face from Eugene since the first weeks of the outbreak, and the fact that he'd caused it only made the thing worse. Immeasurably worse. He swallowed, then nodded slightly, squeezing lightly at the knob of his spine.]

. . . yeah. All right, love.

[z_jay]

[Love, he had to say love and it made his heart hurt in a way both wonderful and terrible. No way could he let off with that without one last kiss, something incredibly more tender than he would show in front of others. But needs must, and if he was worried that this would be the last time he ever kissed Jack properly, he wanted it to be a fond one.]

You--

[He began speaking when he pulled away, sliding onto his leg and hauling the crutch out from behind their seats]

are going to be just fine do you understand?

[Because maybe if he used the right tone enough Jack really would be alright. But who was he trying to convince, really? Jack, or himself. Calling over his shoulder for some help, he finally managed to wrench open Jack's door, reaching for him with one arm]