sixthiterationlogs | No Longer Ghosts [network+log]

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No Longer Ghosts [network+log]

WHO: Natasha Romanoff
WHERE: South Village outskirts
WHEN: April 5th, spam from 5th-8th
OPEN TO: all (Network first response goes to Reyes)
WARNINGS: Injuries

[network, video, OTA (first response goes to Reyes)]

[It looks like there's something smeared over the screen; it's just a jumble of color, blacks and browns and the faintest hint of sky peeking through here and there, a blur that implies faint motion. The voice is recognizable as Natasha's, but the words are slightly slurred and it sounds like she's having a hard time putting them together.]

They took...him. I think--

[A small sound of pain, and another brief pause of labored breathing.]

Don't...know his name. Tall. Blonde. Fighter. Teal wristband. More of those people--not us--

Think I--know which way they went. Someone needs to...

[And then there's the sound of someone falling, and the video ends.]

[action, south village inn, OTA]

A concussion means Natasha isn't going to sleep any time soon. She should still be resting, shouldn't be sitting up given the state of her injuries, but judging by the look on her face anyone who tells her that has a good chance of going through the window she's sitting by. The map she and Loki had found is unfurled on the table in front of her, and she's bent over it, marking distances and looking pretty intent, despite her pale, clammy skin and the rapidly purpling bruise emanating outward from her temple, a cut at its center.

She doesn't even bother looking up as she hears someone enter the room, instead holding out a hand towards them and motioning. "Come here. I need another pair of hands."

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[ "Tall. Blonde. Fighter. Teal wristband."

Maine goes cold. Tries to shake off the feeling by sending Wash a message. There's no response.

If there's even a chance it could be Wash… ]

Where.

[ Deep and growling, the word is less a question than a demand. ]

[ Normally Reyes opts for text, but with the way this video ended, he goes for audio this time: his voice rising, getting louder, in case she's passed out in the woods somewhere. ]

Nat? Natasha. The same thing happened to me recently, we fought off a pair of people who looked like villagers but weren't-- Where are you? Are you alright?

[ gOD can his friends please stop getting into trouble!! ]

[he recognizes those sounds and what they signify. jason’s sparred enough with natasha to know how capable she is, and if someone or something was able to hurt her like this? that’s bad news all around.]

Natasha. [you know it’s serious when he’s using her actual name and not his dumb nickname for her.] Stay with us. Tell us where you are.

Ducking into the room is meant to just be a cut through, but the moment Jacob hears a voice he recognizes he looks up instead of being caught up in his own thoughts. Blinking at Natasha, he comes over instantly.

"Of course." Though he pauses, frowning as his head cocks to one side, looking her over. "Natasha? You know I am going to comment, don't you?" She doesn't look well, not in the least. "What's happened?"

As one without much technology in his world, the device is not always his first thought, especially with how things have been. He just doesn't think about it.

[ having no actual idea where natasha is at this point doesn't help beverly much, but she's already putting together a kit of supplies to tend to any wounds natasha might have when she figures out where the other woman is. ]

Natasha? When you can manage, when you're somewhere safe, tell me where and I'll bring medical supplies.

[ she leaves off the "you don't sound good." there's no need. natasha has enough of a head on her shoulders to know when she's injured and if it's bad. ]

[There's nothing but silence for a long moment, no answer to his call until finally there's a faint sound of pain and a gasp, the sound of scraping and fumbling.]

That's--sounds like them. Two of them. Yellow and green. Bobo and--Shiro, I think--but Bobo's red--

[The slurring is getting worse, but she's still fighting for clarity.]

Road south. Out of the village. Towards the springs.

If looks could kill, the one those green eyes give him could be weaponized. At the very least, they're the ocular equivalent of a lioness baring her teeth, daring him to tell her she should be lying down. But as he doesn't have a death wish, those words don't escape him, and she relaxes just a touch, stretching a string taut across the map below her fingers. She appears to be using the string to block it off into quadrants.

"I was attacked. Pair of those clones or whatever they are that keep turning up. People we think we know that aren't. Apparently, certain combinations of powers are tougher to beat than others, especially if all you've got to fight with are a couple of wooden batons." Which are now cracked and shattered completely, adding to her irritation. "Here. Hold this." A nod to the end of the string. The next look she gives him is faintly sarcastic and dry. "You aren't planning on going evil clone on me, are you? Because I could still probably kick your ass, I just really, really don't want to have to."

[The response takes a few moments as she pieces words together.]

I can...show. Whoever's going after--

There's a map. The map. In the Inn. Heading to the...infirmary...right now.

[Every word is very deliberate, like it's a struggle to maintain coherency.]

So you can...use my name.

[Listen, if a concussion isn't the right time to joke, when is?]

I'm--on the road. South end...of the village. Reyes is here. Helping me. To the infirmary.

Meet there?

[The reply comes a couple of minutes later, and while Natasha still sounds fuzzy and out of breath, at least she's breathing. Raspy, harsh and labored, but still.]

With--Reyes. On our way to you. The infirmary. Think--my ribs again. And...concussion, probably. Not...great, right now.

[She can be honest with Beverly, at least.]

Edited 2019-04-09 22:51 (UTC)

Been saving it up for a special occasion.

[there is no better time to joke than when injured tbh. regardless, jason’s breathing out a small sigh of relief when she answers.]

Infirmary - you got it. I’m on my way.

Really...hope I remember this...later. And don't think--I hallucinated it.

[She's probably fine. Really.]

See you there. Don't--talk to strangers.

[ "Whoever's going after" certainly includes Maine. The Freelancer grits his teeth, mentally cursing how far away the Inn is, but he doesn't vent his anger verbally. ]

Roger. En route.

[ He just has a few things to grab, first. ]

I'll bring everything I can and meet you there.

[ and she doesn't waste any more time, making her way to the hospital at a run, hoping that she makes it before natasha. there she waits, with her supplies out and ready for a crisis situation as soon as natasha and reyes get there. ]

Got it.

[ And then he's off like a shot, grabbing his hunting knife and hurrying out from where he'd been camped out in the inn. Reyes Vidal isn't the big damn hero type -- doesn't typically run to trouble rather than away from it -- but Nat is one of his few friends in the village, and he'd experienced a similar attack like this recently. Information is valuable. Understanding more about these fucking clones is worth hurrying out to a friend's aid.

When he finally finds her slumped by the road, he's brisk and business-like, snapping his fingers in front of her eyes until her gaze clears. ]

Still with us?

[jason huffs out a quiet laugh.]

Funny that you’d assume I’d talk to anyone.

[as much as jason enjoys bantering with natasha, he doesn’t waste any more time on it, just steadily makes his way to the infirmary. once he arrives, he begins silently searching through the building for natasha. if trouble happened to follow her, there’s no sense in drawing attention to himself.]

[It won't be hard to find her, once he makes his way to the infirmary. She'll be in the room with voices already coming from it, Beverly finishing up her exam as Natasha goes over what happened again.]

[She'll definitely beat them there; with the way Nat's feeling, between her ribs and her head, it takes them a solid fifteen minutes at least, if not more. When they finally make it in through the door, Natasha is pale and clammy, her breath rasping in her lungs. Evidence of head trauma is clear from the cut on her temple still slowly bleeding, and there's a swiftly purpling bruise to go with it, along with the rest of her cuts and scrapes. She won't lay down, but she does let Reyes help her into a chair, waiting for Bev's assessment.]

[Information is valuable, and she's glad he's the one who answered her call, because even though they don't know each other all that well, she thinks he'll understand the correct priorities. Her health is secondary to the information she's carrying; what's important is that it gets reported, that the intel is acted on before it's too late.

When he turns up, she's sitting on the side of the road, fighting to breathe but still holding onto the hilt of a wicked-looking knife. It only takes a second before she draws in a harsh breath and answers him, voice cracking.]

Unfortunately. Help me up. My ribs--pretty sure they're broken. Balance isn't great either.

[The reason for that should be pretty evident, too, a wound on the side of her head where she's been hit by something hard.]

[The infirmary, for what it's worth, seems fairly quiet. Bev is finishing up what she can do, and Reyes has stepped out for the moment, which means Jason is greeted by the lift of two fingers from the cot where Natasha is sitting, propped against several pillows and breathing carefully. Bruises are blooming over her ribs below her sports bra, matching a bruise on her temple, and smiling seems like it's a little out of her reach right now. But talking isn't, which means though her voice is raspy and a little labored, she still greets him.]

Hey, sunshine. You...got here fast. Miss me that much?

As someone that has hit the rooftops running even when he's blind with pain and blood running into his actual vision, he keeps running. He's the last person to tell someone that they should actually recuperate and act like a logical human being. So at least he has that going for him.

He reaches for the string, pausing to give her an appraising look. "You'd be surprised what some parents teach Victorian children," he notes, still apparently one of the few of his brotherhood not to talk openly about what he is. Which, given his track record for being the most obvious git on the planet is fairly amazing. "But no, I have no intentions of harming you, Natasha. Though I do ask you return the favor. Not a single pint here to life while I recover, after all. I might well cry if you hit me," he teases, trying to lighten the mood despite where the conversation is going.

He takes the string though, doing as instructed.

Always.

[he manages a thin smile as he finds an empty chair and brings it toward the cot so he can sit next to her. it feels less like hovering. after a quick visual appraisal of her injuries, he lets out a low whistle and shakes his head.]

That all looks like it hurts, Tiny. You decide to try out the other end of the human punching bag gig for a change?

[ Reyes' hand flutters at the side of her head, trying to check on her injury; but he's no medic, and misses the medi-gel that sort of automatically fixed things back home. Technology of the future meant that he hadn't had to put too much thought into this sort of thing, before. But at least he knows enough that head wounds always look worse than they are, so that gives him hope. He props Nat up, a shoulder under hers to help her to her feet. ]

Alright. Up and at 'em, soldier. What direction did they go?

[ Priorities. ]

[ as soon as natasha and company arrives, beverly heads right over. she takes a cursory glance as reyes gets natasha into a chair and doesn't even protest at that. if there are broken ribs involved, they need to keep the pressure off. the first thing beverly does is to grab some of her wound care herbs. ]

Let's try to clean this up and get the bleeding to stop a little.

[ if reyes looks at all like he could use something to do, she'll happily shove some herbs in his direction. given all of these injuries, beverly won't say no to a second set of hands. times like these she misses alyssa ogawa and her staff like she would miss an arm. ]

Same policy as last time. Keep breathing as deeply and steadily as possible. Likely a concussion [ judging by the eyes. ] and your ribs are definitely bruised or fractured. I'll see what I can do to staunch the bleeding, but I'll need you to keep an eye on it after we're done here.

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No Longer Ghosts [network+log]

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