trans_9 | Panacea (Operation Shoot 'Em in the Chest and Lower Extremities) [OPEN]

Bleary-eyed toil brought results, and there was a cure for ROM-199A. Now the problem came with administering it.

Down in the city, the makeshift strike team wielded modified tranquilizer rifles and each of them had 12 cure rounds to use. The infected needed to be struck solidly in order for the cure to be injected-- they were instructed to aim for the chest, though a shot in the arm or leg that hit and stuck would work as well.

It's like paintball, except with deadly pathogens!

Meanwhile, up in Quarantine, those who didn't feel comfortable with shooting their crewmates in the ~~face~~ chest and lower extremities were charged with curing those who had already been subdued and contained.

That was more like tag than paintball, except with deadly pathogens, of course.

(ooc: If you signed up here or here, fire away. If you want to participate but didn't sign up, fire away. If you're infected, tag in to your victim of choice and tear those jerks apart before they shoot you in the ~~face~~ chest and lower extremities! THROW-DOWN! Remember, give the newbs and less plot-fortunate first shot. HAVE FUN.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fletcher didn't even answer; he was beyond that. As soon as Sam had entered the bubble Fletcher charged at him, swinging a fist at his gut.

Again, he grabbed hold of the boy's arm very tightly. "Stop, Fletcher. Hold still!" He reached into his coat pocket with his other hand for the syringe.

He tugged to get his arm away, but Sam's grasp was too strong. He swung with his other arm, shouting in rage. He had to get away...

He flicked off the cap with his thumb, and pulled Fletcher against himself. He aimed it down, and aimed for the upper arm that he was holding onto. "You're going to be okay," he insisted.

Fletcher continued to struggle -- if he had just stayed still, the needle wouldn't have hurt so much when it went in, but oh well. He howled in pain and tried to jerk away, but he was overwhelmed by a sudden wash of lethargy.

Not again...

When the boy stopped, he smiled a bit. "Good. You'll be tired for a while from all of the excitement, but you'll be fine. Except for a few bruises, anyway."

Fletcher didn't answer; he was tired out all of a sudden. He just slumped where he was standing.

Suddenly he really wanted to sleep.

He scooped the boy up, and took him to a normal bed. He definitely needed rest. "Just sleep, Fletcher. You'll be okay." He smiled at him.

Panacea (Operation Shoot 'Em in the Chest and Lower Extremities) [OPEN]

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