WHO: Alpha Team WHERE: Oros ; en route to and outside the Trilk base WHEN: Jan 12 - 20 WHAT: miscellaneous ass kicking WARNINGS: violence? will update with anything else
( pick a day, pick a fight you want to thread out, header it up and go! )
[ It's not okay. Maine isn't stupid. He knows what Wash is doing, but it's not really covering up what's going on here. He doesn't want to hurt this even more, but he's going to. Because even after he gets the other side down, he still has to make sure it's sealed and air-tight. He does try to work quicker though.
Even with the temperature regulation in his suit, he's sweating. This is too close for comfort and he doesn't want to lose Wash now that he's finally gotten him back. That'd just be ironic, though. Poetic fucking justice after everything that's happened.
He works faster, his arms shaking a bit with the effort of pushing the metal down. His body is tired, he can feel it, but he's got to get this done. Which he does moment later with a hard jerk as his hands slip slightly. There's a low noise of apology, but he doesn't stop. If he does, it'll only make it harder on Wash. So, he shifts a little, to get a better hold on Wash's leg and digs out a few tools from his pack. He uses a chisel to get around the edges to hopefully seal it up enough to carry Wash through the rest of this mission. Or at least until he can check with Carolina to see if she has any sealant with her. Otherwise, they're going to have to keep an eye on this to make sure nothing happens.
Seemingly hours-long minutes later, he thinks he's done and he sends the question out there, What's the read out? ]
[ Just for a second, he thinks he's going to pass out. The pain flares up so sharp and blinding that he can't even make a sound. He can't breathe, he can't move, he's just hung suspended in this agonized moment that seems like it won't ever end. Then it snaps and he can breathe again. He can move.
He almost screams.
Through some miracle, dignity prevails and he takes it like a goddamn soldier. A hissing breath. A low humming groan. And it's done. Maine's done and the pain levels out. It doesn't stop: his leg's burned and there's metal digging into it. It's not going to stop until he gets the armor off and the leg treated properly. For now, though, it'll do. ]
Uh... [ He focuses on the HUD's readout. ] Oxygen rising. Levels stabilizing. [ He takes a deep breath. ] It's good. [ His head thunks back to the ground. ] Thank you.
[ There's a tense moment while Wash figures out what the scans are telling him. Maine thinks he might just go cataclysmic if something goes wrong. Without proper supplies, there's little that can be done. But, finally, Wash says everything is stabilizing and Maine can do little more than let out the breath he was holding and falls back off his haunches to sit.
He doesn't say anything—not that it's much of a surprise since he doesn't often talk a lot—and just sits there staring at the ground. It's discolored from Wash's blood and the leaking biofoam and fuck knows what else. Alien blood, maybe. Plasma remnants. Another few tense moments pass when all Maine can see is red and hear the swooshing of his blood in his ears.
He needs to get a grip.
Forcing himself to look away and get up just so he can't see that anymore, Maine rises and begins to pace. Then, thinks better of it and goes to stand watch, his suit flickering for a second before melting into nothingness. The bright white ( or dirty, as it were ) is too obvious in the browns and reds of the desert. Just easier this way.
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no subject
Even with the temperature regulation in his suit, he's sweating. This is too close for comfort and he doesn't want to lose Wash now that he's finally gotten him back. That'd just be ironic, though. Poetic fucking justice after everything that's happened.
He works faster, his arms shaking a bit with the effort of pushing the metal down. His body is tired, he can feel it, but he's got to get this done. Which he does moment later with a hard jerk as his hands slip slightly. There's a low noise of apology, but he doesn't stop. If he does, it'll only make it harder on Wash. So, he shifts a little, to get a better hold on Wash's leg and digs out a few tools from his pack. He uses a chisel to get around the edges to hopefully seal it up enough to carry Wash through the rest of this mission. Or at least until he can check with Carolina to see if she has any sealant with her. Otherwise, they're going to have to keep an eye on this to make sure nothing happens.
Seemingly hours-long minutes later, he thinks he's done and he sends the question out there, What's the read out? ]
no subject
He almost screams.
Through some miracle, dignity prevails and he takes it like a goddamn soldier. A hissing breath. A low humming groan. And it's done. Maine's done and the pain levels out. It doesn't stop: his leg's burned and there's metal digging into it. It's not going to stop until he gets the armor off and the leg treated properly. For now, though, it'll do. ]
Uh... [ He focuses on the HUD's readout. ] Oxygen rising. Levels stabilizing. [ He takes a deep breath. ] It's good. [ His head thunks back to the ground. ] Thank you.
no subject
He doesn't say anything—not that it's much of a surprise since he doesn't often talk a lot—and just sits there staring at the ground. It's discolored from Wash's blood and the leaking biofoam and fuck knows what else. Alien blood, maybe. Plasma remnants. Another few tense moments pass when all Maine can see is red and hear the swooshing of his blood in his ears.
He needs to get a grip.
Forcing himself to look away and get up just so he can't see that anymore, Maine rises and begins to pace. Then, thinks better of it and goes to stand watch, his suit flickering for a second before melting into nothingness. The bright white ( or dirty, as it were ) is too obvious in the browns and reds of the desert. Just easier this way.
Rest. When you're ready, we'll get you up. ]