i - singed, but triumphant [ It's another day among the wreckage that is Heero's life - literally, as the case may be at the moment. The entire thing had felt too similar to his descent to Earth that first time, from the briefing, to being shot at, to the crash, to ending up a waterlogged mess. The downside is that there isn't an ambulance to steal and make it to someplace that isn't here.
Normally, he'd have gone off on his own, leaving the others to fend for themselves, and while he's pretty sure he's not too badly injured (not bleeding out anywhere, though with his luck, he's probably broken something), he can't say the same about anyone else. These people are innocent in all of this, caught up in someone else's problems, and it's because of that that he doesn't run off, instead making a concentrated effort to lend a hand to those nearby. Other people have helped him in the past, whether he wanted it or not, so pay it forward and all that. ]
...Are you okay?
[ Humor him, he's not good at social interaction. ]
ii - i bet mario never had this problem... [ Crashing, he's used to. It's his lot in life to either slam into everything at breakneck speeds or get thrown around like a ragdoll in the mouth of a hyperactive puppy. Getting sucked into the bog, drugged by mushrooms, and having the distinct feeling that there's something tailing him, though? Yeah, not so much. He's already abandoned the kit he'd picked up on the Station, preferring the feel of a handgun in his palm to a pack over his shoulders. Whether it'd be useful or not is of no consequence, it's just the reassurance of having it that matters.
But the first footsteps he hears sets off that paranoia, the gun drawn and aimed. ]
Don't move.
[ Screw the vulture, right now, everything is an enemy until it proves otherwise. ]
* - how do you get a bull into a China shop unnoticed? [ Stealth is not his strong suit. Oh, sure, he can do it when he needs to, but usually there's a little bit of planning and some semblance of knowledge about the area going on. This? This is the exact opposite. He has no clue where he's at, other than that those are walls and gates and they're very much not open, so he's forced to rely on others to get through this in one piece. Who knows what happens to those poor fools that get hauled off, after all.
He's got enough common sense to keep quiet though, not wanting to draw attention, instead casting a questioning glance at the other poor fool: the one who's put up with him this long. Alright, what do we do now? ]
iii - calling foul on Wyver [ He'd made it this far, and then he nearly had a heart attack when a shout rang out and heavy, hurried footsteps moved in his direction... only to grab the guy next to him and strip him out amidst protests and declarations of innocence. What the hell has he gotten himself into?
While the flailing and shouting from their target has them distracted, he's just going to back up a little bit and try to slip through the crowd to get away. It's not his fault he's accidentally bumped into someone in the process. ]
Sorry, you're in the way. [ A rushed not-quite-apology and a not so friendly shove to try and get by are probably not the best ways to make friends here, but the last thing he wants is to end up being that guy. ]
iv - when the festivities aren't all that festive [ The markets seem like a far better place to be, away from the fire that sucks one's soul in and the chaotic mess that was the witch hunt in the streets, but they've got a chaos all their own and he's very much out of his element. Really, all he wants are clothes that don't stink of bog water, smoke, and sweat, something to eat, and somewhere to try and get clean. Body paints and desserts that look good, but that he's sure will probably make his skin turn green or his hair fall out...? Not so much.
He's stopped himself near the stall of a vendor with some sort of dessert that really makes him want to rethink his stance on not touching anything and looking over the spread while mentally weighing the pros and cons. On one hand, it's food and he's hungry. On the other, potential consequences. It's a tough decision, and he can't make it on his own. Care to give him a hand? ]
v - the thing. no, not that thing, the other thing! [wildcard] [ if there's something else you'd like to do, or if you'd like to drag him through Olympia, feel free to hit me up @bumperstew or via pm! i just didn't want to end up writing a novel for a top, but i can absolutely toss him there! ]
no subject
[ It's another day among the wreckage that is Heero's life - literally, as the case may be at the moment. The entire thing had felt too similar to his descent to Earth that first time, from the briefing, to being shot at, to the crash, to ending up a waterlogged mess. The downside is that there isn't an ambulance to steal and make it to someplace that isn't here.
Normally, he'd have gone off on his own, leaving the others to fend for themselves, and while he's pretty sure he's not too badly injured (not bleeding out anywhere, though with his luck, he's probably broken something), he can't say the same about anyone else. These people are innocent in all of this, caught up in someone else's problems, and it's because of that that he doesn't run off, instead making a concentrated effort to lend a hand to those nearby. Other people have helped him in the past, whether he wanted it or not, so pay it forward and all that. ]
...Are you okay?
[ Humor him, he's not good at social interaction. ]
ii - i bet mario never had this problem...
[ Crashing, he's used to. It's his lot in life to either slam into everything at breakneck speeds or get thrown around like a ragdoll in the mouth of a hyperactive puppy. Getting sucked into the bog, drugged by mushrooms, and having the distinct feeling that there's something tailing him, though? Yeah, not so much. He's already abandoned the kit he'd picked up on the Station, preferring the feel of a handgun in his palm to a pack over his shoulders. Whether it'd be useful or not is of no consequence, it's just the reassurance of having it that matters.
But the first footsteps he hears sets off that paranoia, the gun drawn and aimed. ]
Don't move.
[ Screw the vulture, right now, everything is an enemy until it proves otherwise. ]
* - how do you get a bull into a China shop unnoticed?
[ Stealth is not his strong suit. Oh, sure, he can do it when he needs to, but usually there's a little bit of planning and some semblance of knowledge about the area going on. This? This is the exact opposite. He has no clue where he's at, other than that those are walls and gates and they're very much not open, so he's forced to rely on others to get through this in one piece. Who knows what happens to those poor fools that get hauled off, after all.
He's got enough common sense to keep quiet though, not wanting to draw attention, instead casting a questioning glance at the other poor fool: the one who's put up with him this long. Alright, what do we do now? ]
iii - calling foul on Wyver
[ He'd made it this far, and then he nearly had a heart attack when a shout rang out and heavy, hurried footsteps moved in his direction... only to grab the guy next to him and strip him out amidst protests and declarations of innocence. What the hell has he gotten himself into?
While the flailing and shouting from their target has them distracted, he's just going to back up a little bit and try to slip through the crowd to get away. It's not his fault he's accidentally bumped into someone in the process. ]
Sorry, you're in the way. [ A rushed not-quite-apology and a not so friendly shove to try and get by are probably not the best ways to make friends here, but the last thing he wants is to end up being that guy. ]
iv - when the festivities aren't all that festive
[ The markets seem like a far better place to be, away from the fire that sucks one's soul in and the chaotic mess that was the witch hunt in the streets, but they've got a chaos all their own and he's very much out of his element. Really, all he wants are clothes that don't stink of bog water, smoke, and sweat, something to eat, and somewhere to try and get clean. Body paints and desserts that look good, but that he's sure will probably make his skin turn green or his hair fall out...? Not so much.
He's stopped himself near the stall of a vendor with some sort of dessert that really makes him want to rethink his stance on not touching anything and looking over the spread while mentally weighing the pros and cons. On one hand, it's food and he's hungry. On the other, potential consequences. It's a tough decision, and he can't make it on his own. Care to give him a hand? ]
v - the thing. no, not that thing, the other thing! [wildcard]
[ if there's something else you'd like to do, or if you'd like to drag him through Olympia, feel free to hit me up @