poly_chromatic | ∞ [ video] || attack

[ The desert at night could be called beautiful, as illusory as that may be, with the moon casting a pale illumination onto the endless sea of sand.

In the darkness, it's difficult to see, but a man is trudging his way to the base of a sand pile. Reflected in the moonlight is a bottle of vodka, held tightly in his left hand. And with his right:

Zip, zip, zip--- yes, he's taking a piss. ]

Fate-damned desert.

And then--- a sharp cry cuts through the air, the cry of a monstrous-sized scorpion bursting right up through the sand. Not even having the chance to pull up his pants, Amory dives and tumbles to the side. Clack, clack, clack goes the clicking of giant claws. ]

You got to be kidding me----

[ The monster goes in for another attack, this time with its tail, and it's only by a hair that Amory manages to dodge. He does so extremely ungracefully, twisting to the side and landing head first in the sand.

Amory's breath is quick, the sudden movement causing stars to blur in front of his vision. He's suddenly lightheaded. Taking a moment to breath, he stretches a hand toward the creature and closes his eyes, just for a moment. A medium sized globe of fire flares up with a roar.... lighting his own hand on fire. That was not intended. You see, that was meant for the monster.]

Fuck, Fuck, Fuck-

[ Oh god it hurts it hurts it hurts. He buries his hand in a pile of sand to set off the fire, while trying to calm down the flames with his mind. But his nerves are running at a breakneck speed, so it's hard to concentrate on anything but panic.

The giant scorpion roars again, and with that, it raises another claw and sends it slamming into the sand below. Distracted by his hand, Amory is not quick enough to make a clean dodge, and he rolls away, leaving a streak of blood across the sand, shining red in the moonlight.

Crouching behind a large mound of sand, he attempts to hides himself from the creature, one hand clutching his side as he breaths heavily. ]

[ ooc: If it's reasonable that your character would be in this area, feel free to help him! ]

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[It's not his watch, so Frankie was getting what sleep he could. Which means he's a little late to the party, with a crowbar in hand because it's the first thing he could grab, scrambling down from the camp in a half daze. There hasn't been a lot of screaming though so that's probably a good sign.]

[ By now, Eden has probably left, leaving Amory to slowly, very, slowly make his way back to the DeLorean. His good hand is wet, slicked with blood. All and all, he's out of it, disoriented by the loss of blood, and by the anger that's currently monopolizing his thoughts, so that when Frankie comes scrambling down the field of sand, Amory doesn't notice him. ]

Damn it-

[ He curses quietly to himself, his expression beyond frustrated. In fact, he looks almost murderous. ]

The fuck, Amory.

[Okay, so, obviously no emergency, or at least the emergency's taken care of. So he relaxes just a bit.]

Don't take a piss in the desert if you don't want to lose your balls?

[ Oh god, he laughs at his own stupid joke. Ow. Ow. That hurts. ]

What happened?

[He's not going to say you look like shit but really, Amory... you don't look so good. Even if the detail's not so clear, and he hasn't noticed the blood, something's off.]

Seen Eden?

I told you. Sand creature. Tried to eat me while I took a piss.

[ He runs a hand through his hair-- the clean, bandaged one. ]

She rescued me in the nick of time. Headed back to the camp.

Fuck.

You okay?

No.

[ In fact, here he goes, crumpling right into Frankie, which is not awkward at all. ]

[Hey, he's seen worse. For once, Amory's in luck because even though Frankie doesn't know shit about first aid, he's had a ton of practice catching tranq'd humans before they hit the ground. So he does, letting the crowbar drop into the sand.]

No shit. Better get you back to camp.

[ Nice comparison, Frankie. Who knew your skills at hunting humans would come in so handy. Amory just shakes his head against Frankie's shoulder. ]

I'm going to do something disgusting, Frankie. Don't scream.

[ And with that, still leaning on the older man, he lifts his shirt and sticks his fingers into his wounds. If anyone is crying out, it's Amory, because shit, that hurts. ]

What the fuck!

[Yelling doesn't count as screaming, does it? This is the part where dropping Amory seems like a really good idea, but he doesn't. Actually, he'd just pick the other man up and hoof it back to camp, because that is a sure sign of I am too crazy from blood loss to know what I should be doing, but he doesn't want to do that until all fingers are away from open cuts.]

I told you not scream.

[ - which is spoken between gritted teeth. Hopefully Frankie won't decide to drop him because Amory will tumble onto the sand. Right now, he's mentally off in another world, eyes closed, reaching to open a metaphorical door that he's sealed shut.

He feel that old flood of cold power, seeping in at first, then mounting in a terrible, blinding flood. There's cracking now. Ribs knitting back together, flesh and sinew reforming. It all comes at a price, and that price is is pain. He winces and cries out, though uncertain whether the pain is from his powers or the wound, but whatever the cause may be, it hurts enough for him to let down his defenses and wail in front of his friend. ]

Dammit-

[ He digs his fingers into Frankie's shoulder. And to Frankie's touch, Amory must feel ice cold, as if his body was made of ice. ]

Edited 2012-02-21 04:53 (UTC)

[That, Frankie barely feels; what can you say, he's a tough guy. He lets out a sharp hiss of breath, because the only thing he knows for sure is, this is fucked up,, staggering slightly because Amory is kind of dead weight right now.]

Fuck are you doing? [Maybe shaking him a little, cruel as it is, because he is pissed off.] We gotta get back!

Stop moving, for fuck's sake!

[ The words come in a growl, and that hand that's gripping his shoulder moves up to grab his neck. Feels like someone has placed dry ice against his skin.

Almost done, even if it feels like a eternity.]

Think harder.

You stupid asshole,

[he growls, but Frankie has always been good at doing what he's told, so he does hold still. It helps that he's started to realize that Amory's doing something-- fuck if he knows what, but something it might be better not to interrupt. Something he'd better fucking finish before both of them die of exposure, because in spite of his efforts to stay perfectly still, Frankie's starting to shiver.]

[ Just a minute more, and then, Amory lets go of Frankie, toppling over sideways to puke his guts out onto the sand. He clutches his stomach, and takes a jerky breath before rolling over sideways. Splayed out, his ripped shirt exposes where the wound should be, but beneath the deep red splotch of blood is clean, untouched skin. ]

I fucking hate the desert.

[ And he coughs. ]

[Frankie overbalances too, from the suddenness of the weight being lost and the aftereffects of the cold, landing on his ass in the sand with a huff, all the air knocked out of his lungs. It takes him a second to gasp it back.]

Gimme some fucking warning if you're gonna pull shit like that!

∞ [ video] || attack

action | not too long after?

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