EVENT: HERE THERE BE MONSTERS

[initiatesnpc]

Date & Time: October 24 - October 31
Location: Throughout Exsilium
Characters: ALL; tag yourselves in
Summary: The Transports return from their mission to find the island crawling with monsters.
Warnings: Violence, possibly injuries (notify a mod if there's cause to add a particular warning!)

The Transports return from their mission to Medieval Russia, but the Initiative Hold is eerily deserted. Normally, their would be a number of Initiative personnel prepared to meet the Transports at the end of their mission for debriefing.

Instead, there is only silence.

That is, until a distant thumping sound can be heard. It is growing closer, and suddenly the beast is bursting into the room. It lets out a roar and charges. Within minutes, it is easily defeated, but damage has already been done -- it collided with the Transporter machine, which is now making a low fizzling sound and lets off a couple sparks. The commotion is enough to draw the attention of the few remaining Initiative personnel who still inhabit the Hold, who arrive immediately afterwards. They are able to tell the Transports two things: that the machine is broken and currently unable to sent anyone back in time, and that the island has been overrun with aggressive, mutated beasts sent by the United Earth. They have been under siege for months, with the island's population reduced to a mere fraction of what it had once been.

Comments

[fourscience]

Please. [She doesn't know what else there is to say, instead just pleading quietly. Her arms around the goldfoot are tight, shouldering more of her weight the closer they get to the perimeter. A handful more steps, and they're past it, and Nananea feels like she can breathe more easily. She can see Initiative members patrolling in the distance- and that feels safer, but she is still walking, making a beeline for the transport housing.]

[goldfoot]

[She feels her body going into shock from loss of blood—the creeping fear that keeps her conscious, the animal need to hide, be small—but she clings to Nananea's shoulders in the final stretch, her other hand gripped tightly to her sentient weapon. Two important things that keep her awake.] Quickly—

[fourscience]

I know. [She knows time isn't on her side anymore, but she pushes on. They reach the building, and then it's just a handful of stairs, to her assigned room. She has supplies here, extra medications, bandages- anything she could use to fix her captain.

The walk up the stairs is painful, taking more of the goldfoot's weight as they go, until finally, finally they're in her bedroom, and she can lower her onto the bed.]

[goldfoot]

[She's breathing raggedly, air rattling between her teeth as she lies on her back on the bed. But she keeps her eyes open now, pupils dilated to the point of being nearly round. But even with blurry vision she watches Nananea. There is more to say, but words are thick and heavy. Her body tells her the pain is more important now. Nananea is more important.]

[fourscience]

[Nananea doesn't try to speak. She knows the goldfoot is watching her, waiting for her to do something, to do her job. She grabs a small case off a table near the bed, sets it carefully down on the mattress, and flips it open.

Inside is an assortment of medications, of treatments she has made just for her captain. Just in case. She selects a syringe and wastes no time injecting it into her bare arm. It takes her seconds, she knows the goldfoot's body intimately enough to know where to inject the painkiller.]

[goldfoot]

[She hisses, but forces herself to relax, to breathe more evenly. But the words are coming back to her, and they are important. She reaches out, weak fingers, trying to grab for Nananea.] The creatures—

[fourscience]

Captain, please. [Her voice is soft, and she pushes the goldfoot's hand down back onto the bed. She doesn't need interference, even if she knows that her captain doesn't mean to get in the way.

She moves her attention to her leg, gently wiping away blood so she can look at the injury. Severe, but not mangled. She's frowning deeply as she examines the goldfoot, forgetting even her own injuries, her own pain. Her captain is a priority, as always. She lifts a few more implements from her toolbox, a disinfecting solution among them.] Is the anesthetic working.

[goldfoot]

[Nananea's insistence has seemed to have calmed her, at least for now. She pulls in ragged breathing, staring at the ceiling as her vision swims. What does she mean to say? Again, her mind dulls, but from the drugs instead of the pain.] Fading—

[fourscience]

Good. [She is gentle as she begins working, despite the drugs taking effect. She cleans and disinfects the wound first, identifying the areas of most damage, working out how she is going to fix her.

She is quiet, until she begins working on closing the wound, on patching her up. She doesn't have all her tools here, not like she would have at the clinic, but she has enough, she does her best. Her voice is low, muted when she does speak, unusually reserved. She does not look up from her task.] I am sorry, captain.

[goldfoot]

[While considerably more relaxed, her claws still grip at the sheets, her breaths still come shallowly. She feels as if she's chasing thoughts, trying to catch them, trying to make sense of things she can't even hold.] Sorry—?

[fourscience]

Sorry that I was not of more use. [She glances to her face, trying to give her a smile, but it's weak and soon fades away. She turns back to her work, beginning to seal the wound now that it's cleaned out.] I do not think you will be walking for several days. At least not well.

[goldfoot]

False— false. [She hisses the word, it's very important to say.]

[fourscience]

Aurig would have done better. Oxa would have done better. [She says this lightly, as if feeling useless and helpless when her captain really needed her isn't currently weighing on her mind. But she is being cheerful, even as she finishes sealing the wound, and has to move on to her own torn and bloody arms. There is a pause, then she speaks cheerfully, though it's false.] I have done my job now, though!

[goldfoot]

Oxa— [She lets out a rattling breath, as if she intends to move, but the pain and drugs are weighing her body down.] Oxa...

[fourscience]

Not here, captain. [She touches the goldfoot's hands with one of her own, a gesture meant to be comforting. She lingers a moment longer, watching her on the bed, attempting to take mental notes on how the drug is affecting her- but she cannot bring herself to find enthusiasm in it. How unusual. She turns away, and begins work on her own wounds. These she does without use of the drugs, so she can keep her mind sharp.]