"How is it that you always manage to come up with the worst case scenario?" / "I practice."

[duat_die]

In a few hours, Nathan Cwirko might be dead. If he's not dead, there's still an even chance something will go wrong and he'll never see his home, let alone Earth, again. But his mind's not on that - not completely, anyway - as he marches up the ramp with the rest of Col. Everett's team to relieve Atlantis from the Wraith attack: it's on the fact

Comments

[sophicsulphur]

Have ninety pounds of entirely-too-fiesty-for-her-size Wanderer girl launching herself in your direction, Cwirko. Oh, and welcome to Chicago. Sorry we couldn't manage the "not assaulting you" part.

Iris has been watching from the sidelines as the angel bleeds all over Cwirko's hands, able only to mouth oh my god over and over again. From where she is, and from what little she saw, it looks like Cwirko's trying to strangle him.

This is the second time she's watched a man dying, and she didn't even know angels could. Or no, she did, Millie hinted at that, but-- not like this. She'd never imagined that something so... transcendent could die in such a base and awful way. His throat torn out, bleeding something that looks like she'd cook it up in her cauldron.

For the longest time-- all of a few seconds, but it feels like forever-- she can only stand there, just like before, shuddering, gaping, her stomach threatening to turn itself inside out. And then it hits her, adrenaline and purpose in one smooth and violent flood

[duat_die]

Okay, and now more kids are attacking him! What the hell is going on in this part of town?

At least Cwirko's hands aren't on his P-90 at the moment. They were on the field dressing, and now they're abruptly not and in the split second where his hand goes to his ka-bar, he realizes he's not being attacked.

"What the hell are you doing!" he demands, lunging forward again, putting a hand on her shoulder to shove her away. "He's going to bleed out if you don't-"

Keep pressure on the wound, is what he's about to say, except that she's poured something right down his gullet, and while he seems to be spluttering, his limbs are moving and the field dressing's shifted to reveal something other than a gaping hole in his chest.

Aaand that's when the angel realizes he's on the ground with two wanderers crouched over him, miraculously not dead, and in a prime position to start kicking and scrambling away.

[weareshadows]

"Wanderers!"

This particular kid grew up knowing angels were better - faster, stronger - than any of the humans on the streets, and if he could just get a jump on that wanderer, he should have bled red, right? He wasn't supposed to be able to fight back. No human was. but then he had, and now there were two of them, and he was sure that guy shot him or something and no, this was so far from cool.

"Just get away from me! Let me go!"

[sophicsulphur]

Now that she's done her duty, Iris is perfectly fine with heeding that command. She scrambles back up and away from the angel, half-crawling, taking a few awkward tries to actually get to her feet.

Putting a reasonable distance between the pair and herself, she stands, trembling from the adrenaline rush, glancing rapidly between the both of their faces and trying to determine if, now that the angel's healed, she should just get the crap out of here.

But if that guy was trying to kill the angel, it's probably not a good idea to leave them alone.

"It's okay," she says, holding up her hands in the best gesture of deference she can muster. "I've let you go. Not going to hurt you, just-- just didn't want to-- to see anyone die here today, that's all. I-I'm a healer. That's all."

[duat_die]

The angel doesn't even dignify that with a response. He just looks at her like she's the devil and hightails it out of Dodge.

Cwirko watches him go, hands on his rifle but not holding it at ready. Just... ready to get it up, if there's any more unpleasantness. And maybe aim for a shoulder or a hip, this time. Then he turns his attention to the girl.

Just a girl. Even younger than the college guy, if he can make an educated guess. Ordinarily he wouldn't even think of threatening a medic, but that's playing by rules he actually knows. He keeps his hands on his gun.

"Wasn't like any healing I've ever seen," he says. The kid was bleeding out. It was a serious wound. And then he just got up and ran. "That and that guy wasn't like anyone I've seen, either. Care to tell me what's going on?"

Because he'd really like to know.

[sophicsulphur]

She turns to face him fully, now that she no longer has to split her attention between the two of them. She's shaking like a leaf in a gale, and she knows that's a weapon-- doesn't know what it is, but the way he has his hand there's like the way Edge's hand used to fall to his sword, any time they were threatened-- but somehow, she manages to choke out some defiance.

Slowly, she lowers her hands, because it kind of seems odd snapping back at someone while simultaneously pleading defence. He can tell pretty well she's not armed, in any case. There's not enough room on her outfit to hold anything of much import.

"...Care to tell me why you were trying to kill him, first? Then... then I might answer you. But I want to know that."

She doesn't know what she's going to do if the answer is because I'm a demon, and I want angels to die. She doesn't know what she's going to do after that in general, to be honest. She can't very well fight him, and in any case she doesn't want to. She just... doesn't want people to kill people

[duat_die]

"I - what?" Cwirko says, and for a moment all the questions he has about where and when an why he is get crushed under that little demand. His tone says, quite elegantly, There is no way in which you're not shitting me. "Look," he says, and he doesn't really care that he's getting short with a civilian - his life was actually simpler and more pleasant ten minutes ago when he thought he was going off to the other side of the universe to dieCongratulations, Chicago. That's a fun accolade to have

[sophicsulphur]

She pauses for several long moments after his speech, while her mind takes all that in. And then, eventually, in a tone that's somewhere between relief and utter mortification, manages an "...oh."

Give her a couple more seconds to launch into her own monologue of doom, won't you?

Thanks. The management appreciates your cooperation.

"...I, I-I'm sorry! I'm really sorry. I, it just looked bad, and I was scared, and I've seen people die before and it's just bad and I didn't want you to and I'm just, sort of, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, but, but, I."

She wraps her arms around her shoulders, hugging them a bit. Her head is spinning; this is quite enough for her for one day, too. There's pearl-white blood staining her shirt, and she thinks it's beautiful and sickening and deeply surreal all at the same time. She just wants to go somewhere else be somewhere else anything, but. But. She should probably talk to him. Let him know what's going on

[duat_die]

Okay, now he's gone and freaked out the civilian, and now he feels like an asshole. He's about to take a deep breath and reassure her that no, it's all right, witnessing violence is traumatic and sometimes mistakes get made, and then...

And then she starts in on the explanation, and it's fractured and confused and even so he manages to pick out the salient bits, like other universe and angel and while there are a number of fine, intelligent, well-read people in the SGC who could take in that explanation and handle it with aplomb and understanding and appropriate questions...

Cwirko has never been one of those people.

What he manages is three blinks and a belated, "...what?"

[sophicsulphur]

She forces herself to take a deep, calming breath, the way she was taught in order to meditate. Draw the air in-- it tastes like pollution, but she won't let herself mind it-- all the way down to the very pit of your stomach, then let it flow out at its own pace, and let the tension flow out with it.

It doesn't make her feel much better, but she's steady enough to give a slightly more focused explanation, and that's all she needs to do right this second. Just explain what's going on, and it'll all be okay. Well, mostly. He'll still be stuck in Chicago, and she'll probably run back to her room and cry until she passes out. But no one will be dead. That's the important thing. That's the thing to focus on right now

[duat_die]

I was just walking through a tunnel to another galaxy, Cwirko does not say. That's not the weird part.

"Okay, he says. ...okay. "How do I get out?" He doesn't mind suddenly being in a space and time he's really not supposed to be. It's annoying, yeah, but these things happen. Sure, he doesn't remember touching any weird mirrors or whatever other ways people get thrown into other universes, but it's not like anyone's ever gone and made a comprehensive inventory of weird ways the universe has to do unusual things to you. He can deal with the what. He just needs to deal with the what now?

And then possibly get back into a space where he can be a good representative of the US Air Force, rather than shooting people and snapping at innocent bystanders. He'll get there. Eventually.

[sophicsulphur]

"Um."

She's really not prepared to answer this question. Mostly, she tries not to think about the answer, or rather lack thereof.

Thankfully, the last three newly-displaced Wanderers she's run into didn't actually ask. This is the first time someone's demanded to know, and... she doesn't have anything to tell him. Nothing that will be much consolation, anyway.

She doesn't like that. She generally prefers telling people it's going to be okay, because on the whole, she believes that things will be okay. But when faced with something like this, it's often hard for people to see the bigger picture. There's not much about this news that most people are going to treat as good, or even an acceptable loss.

"...We... no one here really knows. People have been working on trying to find their way out, but we don't know enough about the Rift yet to know how to reverse it. So far it only works one way."

It's a slightly more optimistic answer than You can't go back. She doesn't believe in that one.

[duat_die]

{{OOC: ...LJ is eating my comments and occasionally spitting them out malformed. Sorry if this posts EIGHTY BILLION times.}}

"So, we're not doing this on a deadline," he says, and then exhales. He's got a deadline. Atlantis has a deadline. And even if they might be fine without him...

Well, there's nothing he can do, is there? Focus on his own circumstance, make sure he gets through. Not the first time he's been trapped somewhere. Granted, he'd feel a lot better if he had the Expeditionary Force there with him, but there's really no use moping about what he has or doesn't.

"So I guess I'd better talk to whoever's in charge, then," he says. The way she's talking, there's got to be some organization. There can't just be a bunch of people staring at the Rift and not comparing notes.

...he is not going to make the Take me to your leader joke.

Instead, he gestures down the street. "Attacks like this happen often...? Is this area safe?"

[sophicsulphur]

It's not exactly the area that's a problem, she thinks. It's the city."As... safe as anywhere else around here," she says, and this time she doesn't even try to sound optimistic. "Which means that it really isn't. Especially for Wanderers, which is what you and I are. People who've fallen through the Rift. There are people here who don't like us much." Her eyebrows raise as something clicks into place. "That's... probably why you were attacked, actually. If that angel saw you... come through

[duat_die]

Martha Jones. His first thoughts are that, great, a woman, probably a civilian, and that means he's going to be annoyed nine times out of then. An instant after he thinks it he catches himself thinking it and kicks himself mentally - Dr. Weir was a civilian woman and hell if General O'Neill didn't say she was doing a hell of a job, and Lt. Col. Carter was a woman and probably capable of kicking his ass to the Hyades Cluster and back, and just because that's his gut reaction after living in the armed forces for half his life doesn't make it any less wrong.

"If you wouldn't mind," he says. The sooner he can weed out a chain of command and see how the people here organize, the sooner he can start stalking the nearest scientific team.

Or, failing that, dig in.

"So we're persona non grata around here," he says, falling into step beside her. "Hunted." He doesn't blame her for helping the guy who attacked him - medics cross lines. But he is going to keep one hand on his P-90, scanning the streets as they walk. He really should have

[sophicsulphur]

She glances back over her shoulder to address him. "That's... pretty much it," she says, her tone somewhere between sorrowful and apologetic. She's never heard it put quite like that before, but he's right. They are unwelcome here, in the eyes of some, and they are very much hunted by the same. And no one should have to be thrust into that situation. No one.

"That's... part of why I really try to be involved in making things better for people here, though I'm really new myself." They pause at a crosswalk, and she glances around warily at the traffic. "--Mind the metal boxes, they're kind of scary. Um. But yeah. Everyone around here's really been so nice, and I think the people here deserve better. ...But I should probably start by not attacking people on the street. I really am sorry about that. I misread."