video

[deathtrapped]

[He's resorted to the odd piece of technology as a last ditch effort, cradling it in an unsteady hand. Gray eyes squint down at the screen, clouded with wincing pain.]

I don't know... where this is exactly, and I'm not expecting an answer. From anyone. [His voice is hoarse, all but scraped from his throat, ragged and broken in places. Sheer

Comments

voice;

[decanonized]

The hell-

[Normally he wouldn't care much, but prisoner of war against the government? Sounds awesome.]

Shit, man. You left the start point yet?

video;

[deathtrapped]

[Have a bleary look of irritation mixed in with his obvious pain. There's confusion, too, because he hadn't expected to hear a voice back.]

What?

voice;

[decanonized]

What what? Did you move?

[deathtrapped]

Yes. [Gale looks back up the hall at the short distance he's traveled, evidenced by a dripping trail of blood.

His voice is laced with hostility.]

Who are you?

[decanonized]

[Yeah, that'd be much scarier if he wasn't bleeding out. Oh, and if Pyro wasn't himself.]

The guy who's thinking about saving your ungrateful ass, so how about you save the name games for later?

[deathtrapped]

[Gale has the wherewithal to scowl, somehow.]

Right. Very trustworthy.

[Even dying, he has enough sense not to rely on strangers to save his ass. Especially possible Capitol-allied strangers.]

[decanonized]

Nice of you to notice.

[Sarcasm: it's what this conversation is made of. In the meantime, there's background noise as Pyro gets running to the morgue.]

[deathtrapped]

Tell me where this is.

[Since he's only listening to someone's voice, Gale doesn't bother focusing the communicator on his face, holding it in his palm instead. While he gets out a scalpel he picked up. Just in case.]

[decanonized]

Anyone ever teach you 'please?' Abax. Yeah, I don't know where the hell that is either.

[And pyro has gotten a lighter. This could go so...well.]

[deathtrapped]

You're lying.

[But there's less heat behind it. What? What about the Capitol? What's going on? Gale's weight leans more heavily against the wall, threatening to sink down as he struggles just to keep speaking coherently.]

That's not -- where I was before.

[decanonized]

Because screwing with corpses is how I get my kicks? Welcome to the Twilight Zone, pal. I was living high on electricity and internet two days ago, then bam. Just all part of the fun.

[deathtrapped]

[Gale rolls his eyes, something dryly sarcastic on his tongue. But he doesn't say anything else, because all of the sudden the pain is too much to take and he's clamping a hand over the wound on his ribcage, grunting.]

[decanonized]

[And Pyro is skittering around the corner not too long after. He cuts the running a few meters away and slows down to a walk down the hall.]

Still alive, prince charming?

[deathtrapped]

[Gale flattens his back against the wall, that look of wary hostility back. He escaped from the Peacekeepers, barely, he's not about to get caught here.]

Still breathing.

[He grips the scalpel for security, but doesn't move. Just waits, torn paper gown clinging and drenched with blood.]

[decanonized]

[Pyro, Mr. Sensitivity that he is, crinkles his nose at the sight and the smell...then pauses to toss the first aid kit down next to Gale and shrug off his jacket to throw it to the side so it won't get stained before he crouches down himself. It's a small move, but Gale might notice the lighter moves from jacket pocket to jean pocket on the way.]

Yeah, well you look like hell. What'd you do? Piss on their parade?

[deathtrapped]

[He does notice, but only because Gale's watching every movement like a hawk. He feels like the prey he'd hunt down in the woods, waiting now for the finishing blow, an arrow sticking out of his side. The hunter can take their time.

Except there's no arrow, just holes where bullets used to be.]

Something like that. [Gale's grey eyes are on the first aid kit, expectantly.] Can't know for sure, now that I'm here.