anyway, she's an adult again! she had a bunch of bullet wounds in her back, slash wounds across her arms and back, and that bite wound. i am assuming she has been healed enough to not die, but she's still in bad shape, curled up somewhere with her knees to her chest. first aid room or like, i suppose her lounge if you want, i imagine this is like immediately after.
[ did you submit for it you clown "why do you know how it works" dont worry about it
anyway. he really has not gone anywhere short of carrying vi somewhere comfortable to rest once she'd been stabilized - all he's done is shed his coat and wash his hands of the blood, his anxiety sky high the entire time she's been knocked out. he's doing poorly trying to hide it, because it's not gotten any better, but he takes a deep breath as he comes to bring her a glass of water. ]
's alright. [ voice a little gravelly, but quiet in the space. ] Didn't think you did.
wauugh poor boy, she's - worried about him, clearly, when she sees his face. she's injured, sure, but when he comes over, she reaches up to him and tugs him down. gently. sit with her. let her lean. it'll do them both good, she thinks, to have something to ground them. ]
Yeah. [ she mumbles. ] Didn't mean to do that either.
[ a beat. ]
I'm okay. I'll be okay. That machine can grow arms back, bullets are nothing.
[ oughoughgh - his expression goes complicated, immediately, and while strohl goes where he's told, he scoffs, half disbelief, half distress. ]
You - don't try to comfort me, are you mad? [ OF ALL THINGS, why is she paying attention to him, after whatever bloody nightmare she went through - there's guilt (as if he could have stopped it) and a cloying, awful anxiety that curls up in his stomach, thick and useless. and tomorrow will come, and tomorrow - will he awaken to that same thing, vi's body bisected under a theater railing?
his hands come to steady her when she moves, and of course, he lets vi lean against him, head tilted down to look at her, pressing his lips together hard for a moment to bite back on whatever he was going to say at first. it'll be fine. it has to be fine. stay composed. strohl, keep it together.] Look at you, you're a mess.
she is a mess. she's - a lot of things, she's tough, she's steady, she's a rock. she's always been. it's situations like these, every time, that has vander's words echoing in her mind.
"Those kids look up to you." "Yeah, I know." "Yeah, you know, but you don't know. When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish... whatever happens? It's on you."
a deep breath, and then - embarrassingly, her breathing shivers and cracks a little. she's quiet, for a moment, and then she turns a little and hides her face against his shoulder. ]
I'll be fine. Nobody died this time, so - and they'll... they'll heal.
[ ough. something in his heart breaks when hers does. vi's always reaching out to take care of him, and it makes his ears burn a little sometimes, because that's his thing - to their core, they are so very similar, but right now, it's his turn. it's his chance to give some of that back once more, so when vi turns her head into his shoulder, he immediately reaches up and sets a hand on the back of her neck, holding steady. collapsing, internally. ]
's right, they will. [ he says, sotto voiced, wool-toned, and holds her there. take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. ] They will. So'll you, yeah? You'll heal too.
[ heal. she'll heal, and it'll be fine. she'll be okay tomorrow, too. ]
You brought everyone back. You included. Means we can see another day.
[ the hand on her neck makes the heat behind her eyes even worse. she manages to keep it back, but only just barely. instead, her hand comes up to hold onto his shirt. the glow on her arm is a small, winding tattoo: CYCLES. ]
Yeah. [ she says, finally, rough as hell. ] We'll make it. East - East told me that we don't have to stay in our lounges tonight. So we can stick together.
[ we'll make it. his heart twists like a dishrag, because - well, that's what they said before, too. i won't let you die. fat lot of good that did, didn't it?
another deep breath, and he shakes his head a little. ]
Good. [ said with a modicum of ferocity, protective. it relieves some - a tiny, tiny bit of that anxiety - not that it did much last time, says the nasty little voice, but he keeps his hand there, watches that cycle, rubs his thumb gently into the pressure point at the back of her neck to try and soothe a little, too. ] Tell you what. Let's go to simulations. Me, you, Hulkenberg. Can spend the night on the runner.
[ it relaxes her a bit. it takes her back a few weeks ago - when she told him that she didn't ever really let anybody see her back. nobody else really sees her like this. there's a measure of safety with him that she doesn't know how to handle, that makes her feel like she's fifteen years old banging on the door from the basement. ]
Probably not. We'll wake up arse over teakettle in a heap on the floor.
[ strohl says - he's trying to keep his tone light, easy, trying not to let his anxious nerves betray him. maybe if he says it enough it'll soothe him, too, that it'll be fine, that they'll both wake up the next day.
the more she clings, the more he lets it, scooting that little bit closer, arm wrapping a little firmer, a little more steady. ] Going to have to get Hulkenberg to patch you up again in the morning.
[ a little laugh, something slightly wet and gaspy.
for the first time in what feels like a long time, she just lets him hug her. she lets someone comfort her. lets someone be the person in charge. for as much as there's that instinct, still, the desire to pull herself together and look like she's got her shit together, strohl is safe, and he's got her. it's... unusual. she's never really had people she felt like she could do this with.
just one, but that was the one that filled her back with bullets. so.
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week 1, thursday >:U
idk what the state of the vi is but he just has not left this entire time so ]
no subject
anyway, she's an adult again! she had a bunch of bullet wounds in her back, slash wounds across her arms and back, and that bite wound. i am assuming she has been healed enough to not die, but she's still in bad shape, curled up somewhere with her knees to her chest. first aid room or like, i suppose her lounge if you want, i imagine this is like immediately after.
but also, quietly: ]
Sorry. Sorry, I don't hate you.
no subject
anyway. he really has not gone anywhere short of carrying vi somewhere comfortable to rest once she'd been stabilized - all he's done is shed his coat and wash his hands of the blood, his anxiety sky high the entire time she's been knocked out. he's doing poorly trying to hide it, because it's not gotten any better, but he takes a deep breath as he comes to bring her a glass of water. ]
's alright. [ voice a little gravelly, but quiet in the space. ] Didn't think you did.
...scared me half to death, though.
no subject
wauugh poor boy, she's - worried about him, clearly, when she sees his face. she's injured, sure, but when he comes over, she reaches up to him and tugs him down. gently. sit with her. let her lean. it'll do them both good, she thinks, to have something to ground them. ]
Yeah. [ she mumbles. ] Didn't mean to do that either.
[ a beat. ]
I'm okay. I'll be okay. That machine can grow arms back, bullets are nothing.
no subject
You - don't try to comfort me, are you mad? [ OF ALL THINGS, why is she paying attention to him, after whatever bloody nightmare she went through - there's guilt (as if he could have stopped it) and a cloying, awful anxiety that curls up in his stomach, thick and useless. and tomorrow will come, and tomorrow - will he awaken to that same thing, vi's body bisected under a theater railing?
his hands come to steady her when she moves, and of course, he lets vi lean against him, head tilted down to look at her, pressing his lips together hard for a moment to bite back on whatever he was going to say at first. it'll be fine. it has to be fine. stay composed. strohl, keep it together.] Look at you, you're a mess.
no subject
she is a mess. she's - a lot of things, she's tough, she's steady, she's a rock. she's always been. it's situations like these, every time, that has vander's words echoing in her mind.
"Those kids look up to you."
"Yeah, I know."
"Yeah, you know, but you don't know. When people look up to you, you don't get to be selfish... whatever happens? It's on you."
a deep breath, and then - embarrassingly, her breathing shivers and cracks a little. she's quiet, for a moment, and then she turns a little and hides her face against his shoulder. ]
I'll be fine. Nobody died this time, so - and they'll... they'll heal.
no subject
's right, they will. [ he says, sotto voiced, wool-toned, and holds her there. take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. ] They will. So'll you, yeah? You'll heal too.
[ heal. she'll heal, and it'll be fine. she'll be okay tomorrow, too. ]
You brought everyone back. You included. Means we can see another day.
no subject
Yeah. [ she says, finally, rough as hell. ] We'll make it. East - East told me that we don't have to stay in our lounges tonight. So we can stick together.
no subject
another deep breath, and he shakes his head a little. ]
Good. [ said with a modicum of ferocity, protective. it relieves some - a tiny, tiny bit of that anxiety - not that it did much last time, says the nasty little voice, but he keeps his hand there, watches that cycle, rubs his thumb gently into the pressure point at the back of her neck to try and soothe a little, too. ] Tell you what. Let's go to simulations. Me, you, Hulkenberg. Can spend the night on the runner.
How's that sound?
no subject
Sounds good.
[ she manages, choking on it. she clings. ]
Think it'll stay that way all night?
no subject
[ strohl says - he's trying to keep his tone light, easy, trying not to let his anxious nerves betray him. maybe if he says it enough it'll soothe him, too, that it'll be fine, that they'll both wake up the next day.
the more she clings, the more he lets it, scooting that little bit closer, arm wrapping a little firmer, a little more steady. ] Going to have to get Hulkenberg to patch you up again in the morning.
no subject
for the first time in what feels like a long time, she just lets him hug her. she lets someone comfort her. lets someone be the person in charge. for as much as there's that instinct, still, the desire to pull herself together and look like she's got her shit together, strohl is safe, and he's got her. it's... unusual. she's never really had people she felt like she could do this with.
just one, but that was the one that filled her back with bullets. so.
vi sniffs, still hiding her face. ]
She did a good job already.