Comments | paradiselogs: Open // In-Progress

furorimperator in paradiselogs

Open // In-Progress

Apr 12, 2010 18:59

Who: a_general_chaos // silencesong // firstclasswings // slays_in_heels // blackhole_revel // eveningladies // frost_la_magra // mercuryquick // freedomonwings //not_puppet // revengebound // onegil // superninjayuf // 1led_them // ridiculoushair // unlocked_hart // 13sugars // andaateikaahrr // hellsingmaster // OPEN
When: After this.
Where: Streets of Paradise
Rating: Pg probably
Summary: ShinRa's General gets to work...and the city pays the price.

Kill them. Kill them allAnd so he was, without thought, without mercy. No less than fifteen had fallen to his sword; the ( Read more... )

, tseng, † undertaker, † hiyono castagno, aerith gainsborough, † nill, zack fair, † cissnei, mercy "vortex" dyer, axel, † abel nightroad, † tifa lockhart, † buffy summers, † deacon frost, † mercury, † integra hellsing, yuffie kisaragi, † danica talos, hannibal king, cloud strife, † sephiroth

Leave a comment

Back to all threads

unsharedburden April 13 2010, 00:36:23 UTC

The one place they'd been able to seek shelter from the storm, and a place that she'd begun to call something-like-a-really-shoddy-version-of-home, much that it wasn't actually... All of it, completely obliterated. The building had cracked and begun to shatter, collapsing on them all. Instead of covering her own head, she'd done what she could to shove Giles out of the way, shielding him and taking a few blows until the rubble separated them ( ... )

eveningladies April 13 2010, 00:42:57 UTC

He'd figured that wherever he was made no difference at all, and trekked from one apartment building to the other, it was smarter to be at the Madison, it was. For more than one reason.

God, he was loathing that now. His shoulder felt dislocated, and his head was ringing louder than anything else. "You're shouting, please stop shouting." His voice was barely even a croak, pain lancing through his body in waves. Oh yeah, this was good.

Pulling himself, trying to sit, his foot caught, and Hannibal groaned. Yeah; this wasn't good. "Holy shit, someone cut the fucker off." Any movement made his head swim and Hannibal was fighting to keep his stomach from rolling.

It was times like these he could almost miss being un-dead.

unsharedburden April 13 2010, 00:50:58 UTC

The croak behind her was recognizable enough, and she turned as quickly as she could, toward him. Buffy immediately made some half-successful attempt to kneel next to him. "Hannibal," she breathed, frowning at the state of him. Nevermind the fact that her hair was plastered against her face with blood, or the fact that every breath she took made her torso sting; he was pinned. She spoke a bit quieter. "Sorry," she muttered, "I can't find --" she shook her head. It wasn't important right this second. Well, it was - but survival was, too, and getting him the hell out of that was pretty important to the whole survival thing right now ( ... )

eveningladies April 13 2010, 00:56:31 UTC

The first shift sent the tendrils of pain along his leg, making him wince tightly and clench his jaws. Oh, it was broken. It was close to squashed he was fairly certain of that. "I'd hazard a guess on yes." He ground out, breathing through his nose in sharp hisses.

"What've you done?" He saw those tight lines of pain, the blood matting her hair to her face. If she was concussed, or worse... "Let me see your side."

He managed to pull himself sitting, leaning heavily to one side and ignoring the foot, oh, the foot that might just come off if the skin tore. His shoulder needed putting back in place, his brain needed unscrambling, but he could deal. "You're bleeding buckets, Blondie."

unsharedburden April 13 2010, 01:07:25 UTC

"We need to get you up, then," she groaned, rotating herself to face him better. Buffy's eyes lifted to his, and she shook her head, swallowing hard before gasping sharply. "No, I'm - really-" she started, frowning. "You shouldn't try to move on your own."

She looked down to her leg, wrinkling her nose in displeasure. That thing lodged in it needed to come out. "I've bled worse before," she said, "I'm more worried about you." Buffy took a deep breath, looking him directly in the face as her hands gripped the piece of debris in her leg and moved it slightly. "That isn't a fun feeling," she grunted ( ... )

eveningladies April 13 2010, 01:20:19 UTC

With the constant stream of pain, it was hard not to focus on it, but Hannibal pushed it back. He'd dealt with worse, he was sure of it, Danica had to have caused worse. And that lit another thought in his head. Was she here? Was she under...

"It's just," No, she was right, his foot was out. No way it would work. "My shoulder, my left shoulder's out." He was trying to think of ways to stem her bleeding. His head wasn't bleeding much, the glancing blow from whatever landed on his head dealt the damage and he was clotting. It was fine.

Buffy was starting to bleed again.

"Here," he tried to unclip one of the holsters, but his fingers didn't seem to want to work. "Unclip it, use it as a tourniquet." At the very least they could slow her bleeding enough. "I'm fine, c'mon, you gotta stop bleeding."

unsharedburden April 13 2010, 01:27:44 UTC

"Out. Like dislocated? I can probably put it back -" she swallowed again, closing her eyes tightly "-in a minute." The tears were completely involuntary, reactive to the physical pain she was feeling. There had definitely been worse. She'd been dead, twice. And she wasn't dead now.

Yet.

He was right; she was losing a lot of blood. Buffy slowly leaned forward, grimacing as she reached and undid the holster. She whimpered as she strapped it tightly around her leg, trying to put pressure above the wound, where it would make the bleeding stop. "I've been worse than this, and I'm not exactly worried about me right now," she muttered, limping to move behind him. She knelt, despite the pain, and placed her hands on his left arm - one just above the elbow, the other at his wrist.

"You ready?"

eveningladies April 13 2010, 01:40:26 UTC

"As I'll," he was trying to think of a time where Danica had done worse, or when he'd done worse himself. He'd climbed a tree when he was twelve and fallen, smashing his knee on a stumped tree below. Smashing his knee must've been worse than this. "Go for it."

He just had to keep breathing, not bite his tongue, that was all. It was nothing worse than anything else. But putting the shoulder back in place was ten times worse than having it yanked from the socket and as Buffy used that unnatural strength to snap his shoulder back where it ought to be, Hannibal managed to keep the noise to a groan of pain rather than a shout.

"Oh, that's gonna smart." Breath through it, don't puke and don't pass out. He'd manage. Even with the lingering shoots of pain, the twitch of his fingers as the nerves made themselves known. He hardly noticed that his arm had been cut.

"Well this is a fine day."

unsharedburden April 13 2010, 01:48:56 UTC

"I'm sorry," she grunted as she moved to do what she was determined to. She popped his shoulder back into place as gently as she could, and it didn't take long. Immediately, she moved her hands to rub around the area, kneading the muscles gently and trying to sooth the joint. "It's better than walking around with it hanging off of you like a dead thing," she said quietly, trying to be as calming as she could. "Give it a minute, you'll feel better ( ... )

eveningladies April 13 2010, 02:01:07 UTC

The circulation came back to his shoulder slowly but surely and then all it felt like was the tingling of pins and needles. He was more worried about her. "Forget my damn foot." Although he knew for a fact he wasn't going to be walking on it at all. Crawling at all would probably be painful and he didn't feel in the mood for hopping.

Which meant he would need some kind of support.

He didn't plan on using her. She was roughed up just as bad, worse maybe, than he was. "Are there any rods? Or poles or anything that makes a decent height?" She needed to sit down. "Hey," he raised a hand to trail over her wrist, a soft presence against her unbattered arm. "It's okay, give it a minute."

It wasn't the best place to stop, under the rubble, still in danger. But Hannibal would rather she rest a litte before she fell down.

unsharedburden April 13 2010, 02:15:30 UTC

"I'm not gonna forget your foot," she spat back irritatedly, a hand coming to the bridge of her nose. She pinched it, then spread her fingers out and rubbed her forehead, down to her eyes, trying to get everything to come into focus. "I don't know, I can go look," she muttered, opening her eyes. Her brow remained knitted together as she tried to see straight. The pain in her ribs was blinding, even more than her leg.

Buffy's gaze dropped to his hand, and she let her own fingers rest against his wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was comfort, something they both needed. Even if everyone else was dead, the two of them weren't alone, and as much as that was not ideal, it was something ( ... )

eveningladies April 13 2010, 02:28:02 UTC

The irritation he could handle, but he noticed the lingering need for that contact before she started busying herself again. "It's okay; you should just," he was going to tell her to go and find someone else; Frost, her friend from her home, Dante, anyone. He'd be fine sitting still for a few minutes.

Until he spotted her with the pipe, until her apologies started and then he knew the dislocated shoulder had nothing on this. Moving his leg wasn't too bad, exceptionally uncomfortable in that way you know it's going to hurt in the next few seconds and there's nothing to do about it. He could feel the burn of bile in his throat.

The clench of his jaw almost hurt as much as the pressure she put on his foot as she strapped the pipe around his foot. She was right, it hurt a hell of a lot worse than hell. Even as his face tightened with the pain and his breathing stopped for a sheer minute, Hannibal couldn't stop from groaning out loud and getting painfully close to that scream.

"Oh, sweet Jesus, stop." He swore to God he would not pass

unsharedburden April 13 2010, 02:37:30 UTC

"Hannibal," she muttered, slowly lowering his leg, placing it gently back on the ground, "Hannibal, I'm so, so, sorry." Her voice cracked, emotional. She didn't want to hurt him; she was just trying to help, really, and she wasn't a medic. She only knew just the most basic first aid training she'd learned as the Slayer, when needing to tend to her own wounds without someone else knowing. She'd never set, or braced, a broken bone before. Her head was spinning ( ... )

eveningladies April 13 2010, 02:51:24 UTC

Everything rolled; his vision, his stomach, the world. Holy hell, he never wanted to feel anything like that again. He could hear her murmuring apologies again, and then he felt her press to him. It was comforting, he wanted to tell her it was okay, he just needed a minute, but he still couldn't speak just yet ( ... )

unsharedburden April 13 2010, 03:01:05 UTC

"I'm just hurt," she answered, a little too quickly. She tightened her grip on him, wincing as his hand came in contact with the wet part of her tank. She could feel it; she'd been hoping that he wouldn't notice. "Not any worse than you are. I'm fine." Her tone was defensive, but weakly so. Buffy knew she was in a bad, bad place. But so was he, and he was her concern more than her own well being was. She was supposed to protect people, especially those she cared about. And he was definitely one of those.

"Can you get up yet? Or do you need longer?" she asked, trying to deflect the conversation from her decreasing blood supply, back to just getting out of that damn place. She needed to get him safe, so she could come back, and find Giles and Deacon, and anyone else, really.

eveningladies April 13 2010, 03:09:32 UTC

The tone told him she was lying, it was worse than she wanted to let on. He'd been around Abigail for a total of three weeks, two days and seventeen hours. He knew that tone well enough already. What was with these women hunters and their tendency to be the heroes?

"Yeah," he'd fight through it, and they'd move, and they'd both go to the clinic and he'd make sure she got taken care of too. He would. "Help me up and I'll manage." That was one hell of a joke.

Regardless of how much he didn't want to strain her, how badly he wanted to get there on his own steam so that she wasn't hurt any further trying to help him, he knew for a fact the moment he put any weight on that foot his whole leg would give way under him. He was as good as disabled right about now.

Back to all threads