[closed]

[alittlesweptup]

Date & Time: Backdated to 10/13; evening
Location: Manchester, UK @ 2am
Characters: Charlie Cutter & Tempest
Format: Tempest and Charlie on a mission to fetch supplies for the medbay
Warnings: Swearing and skullduggery

In the grand scheme of things, finding a medical supply warehouse had taken a sight more digging through the absolutely massive list of records on hand through the AI that it would've been to simply target a hospital and be done with it, but there was something off putting about lifting equipment out of the places it was actually needed. Steal a box load of syringes from a warehouse and someone just needs to place a new order; jack them from a hospital and someone's personally been fucked.

It does mean going in blind though - Charlie's not willing to spend the extra day on the ground to do the usual recon work he'd usually insist on. Finding things like building plans, identifying which security systems they'll have to disable and what kind of people they have walking the ground itself is going to be somewhat of a 'fly by the seat of their pants' sort of thing, but everything else has been as well researched as he could manage. He's certain pulling a few boxes, a few stone of equipment from this particular warehouse won't make a difference to anyone in the grand scheme of things. Someone might get chewed out for leaving a door unlatched, but as far as time travel fallout goes, this is as minimal impact as he can think to make it. Besides: it's bloody Manchester. Charlie can almost guarantee this won't be the first time someone's busted in.

The transporter drops him and Tempest off some fifteen miles from the actual location. "Oh for fuck's sake," is the first thing out of Charlie's mouth when they hit the ground and he realizes its gone off a touch wrong. He's slightly nauseous from the jump, pale - though that may be because it's full winter here, everything icy and drab and grey as the smoke rising in the distance from the factory district.

All that careful planning and now they've got to hot wire a car.

Comments

[hyanaimne]

"What is a wanker?" She asks as past him and towards the door they came in. She puts her hand over the handle and concentrates for a moment, then just freezes the damn thing, enough that it ends up frozen to the wall as well. That should stop anyone who tries to get in for a while.

[alittlesweptup]

"Never you mind."

Charlie pushes his sleeves up and moves back to the first stack of boxes. He's quick to tear them open, pulling down a few once he determines what's inside. They've got fifteen minutes before the transporter pulls them back, maybe less than that before another pair of policemen come round to check on the first.

[hyanaimne]

She snickers quietly and goes to get the box she was working on. "If you are cursing and not teaching me their meanings, dear, that is not very nice of you." Is what she calls over her shoulder before she disappears into the boxes.

She dumps one of the boxes on the ground - one full of things they'd need, thankfully - and starts tossing in a few other things she'd seen while exploring.

[alittlesweptup]

Charlie snorts, throwing a glance back in her general direction. "I'll tell you all about it once we've got this shit back."

It's quick work, not entirely focused, but Charlie hauls as many boxes as he can back to where she's going through her own stack. If nothing else, he's made for this sort of heavy lifting. By the time their timer's near to running out, they have quite the collection of supplies. Charlie's quick as he can about marking them for pickup, slapping the markers the blokes with the transporter had given over to make sure the boxes came through alongside them.

[hyanaimne]

One more box gets added to the pile after Tempest gets it open to double-check what's in it, then drags it off the shelf to carry it over to the rest of their boxes. She puts it down with a grunt. "I think that is probably all we will manage this time." She says, giving their gatherings a look over. Not that it was a bad thing, of course - there was plenty here to stock the clinic for a while.

[alittlesweptup]

It's not a bad haul. More work than it should've been, maybe, but shit. What isn't? Charlie throws her a sidelong glance, mouth pulling at a grin. He makes a crude gesture that's distinctly below the belt.

"Wanker. It's someone who's, you know, busy having a wank."

[hyanaimne]

The look she gives him is - well, the usual blank one. Only this time, for maybe the first time, she's faking it. Though her expression remains as straight as ever.

"And that means . . . ?"

[alittlesweptup]

There's a very brief moment where Charlie clearly doesn't know how to follow up - his face goes momentarily blank, mouth slightly open like he's halfway to saying something but can't actually find the word. Then he frowns slightly.

"You know--" And he just repeats that same exaggerated motion of the hand, only slower for emphasis.

[hyanaimne]

She almost - almost manages to keep the same straight face. Except the one on Charlie's face makes her loses it, and she covers her mouth to stop an outburst of laughter.

"Ah, yes. That."

[alittlesweptup]

"Oh, piss off."

Which is actually the last thing that makes it out of his mouth before the space goes momentarily sharp all over, like the air might cut something open, and then transporter hauls them from the warehouse with a sickening jolt.