trans_9 | Dashing through the rubble

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Dashing through the rubble

At times, Cedric has visions of gnawing his own arm off. He's not desperately hungry yet, but he's getting close to it. Being trapped in the City with no access to the slop is a recipe for disaster, after all, and he definitely can't hold out for another few hours. It's time to move while he still has the strength to.

It's a route filled with danger. Without any sort of Muggle firearms training, he only protection he has is his speed and a pile of rocks for throwing and swinging---that, and an improvised club, like the one he'd once taught new players on the Quidditch team to use. The useless wand still sits in a holster on his sleeve, as he can't bear to let that piece of his past go.

He crouches in the doorway, reminding himself that he has two choices: risk it all to survive or die. And the death if he's unlucky will be quicker than starvation. With that pleasant thought at the forefront of his mind, he runs and hopes he lucks out. That possible food storage is maybe six blocks away if he's read the map correctly. He has---but he's not lucky. A line of robots is marching down the street, right in his path.

The only choice is to run, dashing over and pushing over some unstable rubble. Maybe the rolling rocks will trip up the robots he's so desperately evading.

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After this run to the Vatican, Howard's got to call it quits. The safe zones will need to find someone else to get them food and medicine - he's at the limit of what he can handle.

He's dehydrated, exhausted, and injured in a variety of places. The first-aid he got from Cassie's kept his mind off getting those wounds infected for the most part, but he still looks pretty frightful, with a bruise covering almost half of his face and a limp whenever he slows down enough to focus on something besides the pounding of his heart and head and the burn in his lungs. The hole he got in his shirt from getting shot earlier has ripped wider to reveal all the bandaging he did.

One last supply run. Then he can delegate the responsibility to someone else. Diana, maybe. They're in cahoots.

On the upside, running back and forth so much has given him a general idea of how the robots move. He ducks behind a trashcan, waiting for the usual row of patrol robots to pass him by. They don't come.

Where are the robots?

After a few more moments of waiting, Howard pokes his head up above the trashcan and looks for them. What he sees doesn't cheer him any. Cedric, running from plenty of robots. Thankfully the terrain Cedric chose slows them down some, and they're heading in Howard's direction.

"Cedric! Cedric, over here!" Howard pulls up a manhole cover, thinking that this is all just a little bit cartoonish, and slips down into it, hoping Cedric saw where he went or at least can piece together that the open manhole is a place to drop down into. The place Howard finds himself in smells damp and moldy, and it's dark in there, but at least there aren't any robots.

Luckily for Cedric, humans are excellent at hearing their own names. His head jerks in Howard's direction, catching sight of his...friendly acquaintance? Is that the right term? Well, whoever he is, Howard's jumping into a sewer. For some reason, Cedric trusts his judgment on the sewer being a wise place to hide.

It takes some effort to vault over the last few boulders and kick one back, but Cedric's soon jumping into the sewer and pulling the cover over. Descending into the darkness. He really wishes he had one of those Muggle light devices right now---the torches with the batteries.

"...Howard?"

Howard flicks his own flashlight on. It's not a big one, just the one he uses to check people's eyes after had injuries, but it gives them a little light. After a moment of realization, he turns the flashlight away from him - no need to look all Halloween scary with the way he looks now. And Cedric seems frazzled enough.

"Didn't expect to see you running around here. Shouldn't you be hunkering down somewhere?" Not that Howard shouldn't be either, but he needs to know where the supplies are going. He has to or he won't be able to think about anything, besides how they'll all be starving soon.

The robots are tugging at the cover, which thankfully locks from the inside. Howard gets a piece of the flimsy cast tape and tries to close up the edges. "Also, I'm out of ideas. Your turn. Unless you just want to see where this pipeline goes."

Edited 2011-12-24 20:36 (UTC)

Cedric pushes himself up to help, securing the cover with a few shoves. "We probably won't have long," he says, not enjoying catching his breath in such a putrid place. They're going to come out of this smelling terrible, but they'll come out of the sewer. He still has a shred of hope about that little victory.

"I was, but the food we were waiting for never came. I thought something might've happened. Ran to help. Not that there's much I can do."

That's what frustrates him the most. If he only had magic, they could easily survive. Cedric lightly thumps the wall, further covering himself in a mess before he guesses at where Howard is. He'd seen something in that light. "You've been out here a while, haven't you?"

"Oh. Ah. That's probably my fault. I got held up on my way back from the Hangar by some battle droids." Howard pats his backpack in the dark. "I was bringing food to the Vatican when I noticed all those robots going hardcore on you."

Well, they might as well walk. Funny, if Howard ever imagined being stuck in a dark place alone with Cedric, he didn't exactly hope it would be a sewer. He hopes Cedric can follow his voice enough to figure out where he is.

"Yeah. I been out here since SHOGUN did her whole loudspeaker routine at the start. I'm going to take the king of all naps when I'm done here." He doesn't mention the injuries. They've got bigger things to worry about right now and as much as Howard could take Olympic gold in bitching and moaning, he also knows that there's a time and place.

And no, he will not say the evil robot AI's name right.

"You got any open wounds? This probably isn't the best place to be if you're worried about getting infections."

Edited 2011-12-24 21:05 (UTC)

"Don't be daft, it's not your fault," Cedric shakes his head. "It's her fault. SHODAN." He'll say her name properly, but only with the utmost disgust. "Anyway, I'm glad I found you. I'll go with you, we'll have a bunk there."

And maybe Cedric will get a crumb to eat after he makes sure everyone else does, he doesn't say. That would be good.

He doesn't comment yet on the hopelessness setting in, or just what they're doing delaying the inevitable. Instead, he refocuses on Howard's voice and stumbles after him in the dark. Did he have wounds...?

"They're scrapes. I didn't see much blood. It's not important." He's not important.

"I'm glad I found you, too." His voice is a bit softer than Cedric's when he says that. Truth be told, he wasn't looking for Cedric. He'd assumed he'd be able to handle things fine on his own. And now, seeing Ced hungry and tired, he feels guilty for overestimating the guy.

Really, it's the 'hungry' part that bothers him.

"It is important. Let's find out how to get topside again so I can take a look. I should probably redo some of my bandages too, if they're getting covered in gunk." His feet slosh in the water in the pipe. Ewwww. "Besides, people here have their priorities wrong. They'll waste time trying to fix you if you're dumb enough to run an infection."

He pulls a granola bar from his bag. Wrapped, so it should be good to eat. "Here. When was the last time you ate?"

"I can't recall, actually. Yesterday night?"

Cedric feels a rush of affection for Howard. Even the small bite of food is enough to reinvigorate him, and soon he's started tapping the wall with his club, feeling for a ladder up. They'll find one soon, he's sure, but that's no guarantee that the hole out will be safe. He'll be ready to listen for robots.

"I can help you with the bandages. I might be useless with your weapons, but I can tie a bandage. Quidditch players are great at getting themselves injured."

"Oh, that's not hunger." In the dark, Cedric probably can't see the way Howard watches the granola bar as if he's about to snatch it back, as he says that. "Not even close."

He snickers a bit. "Great. So our skill sets overlap. But yeah, help'd be good. I can't see my own head and all."

It says something about how much more comfortable he is around Cedric than others that he'd take that offer. He's alright with Cedric touching him. That's more than he can say for anyone but Zouichi and Karis, at this point.

"Any luck finding a way out?"

Cedric might not see the look, but he does feel awkward. He's only broken off and taken one little bite, and he stops. It's only going to get worse from here, and that scares him so much. Nothing from home ever prepared him for this.

"I can also hit and throw things. I stopped a few robots with well-aimed rocks. Quidditch does lend some skills that don't require brooms. I might be more useful if the game was more violent," he says darkly.

That said, his club does found a spot where the echo sounds different! There's even a slight change in the lighting. "I think there's an entrance here. Feel for a ladder," he suggests, pressing himself against the wall and doing just that.

"Eat the food, Cedric," Howard snaps, an uncharacteristic edge to his voice. It's not as if Cedric's trying to press his nerves, but it's the combination of his headache and being reminded, yet again, that he and Diana are the only ones acutely aware of how the human body is not self-sustaining. Being one of the few onboard who never takes a mouthful for granted makes him feel so alone. "I can hear that you're not chewing."

Howard gives a little grunt of affirmation. "Okay, well, I can't throw worth anything, so that's something on your end. All I'm worth out here is running and stitching."

He starts feeling around for a ladder. "It's over here. Can you hear anything up above?"

"Yes sir," Cedric says guiltily. He chews slowly, making it last as long as he can. Just the motions are comforting.

He wanders over to the ladder, feeling out its location and bumping against Howard on the way. "Sorry! Oh. Here it is." Cedric falls silent when he's told to listen, desperate to hear the sounds of---well, anything. At least it would be information. The silence could mean safety, or it could mean that there are robots waiting to kill them just outside.

"I'll have to climb up to listen. You're the medic, you have the food. You need to live."

Cedric hauls himself up the first few rungs, taking a deep breath. He can't remember ever feeling so afraid to climb up a ladder. What's on the other side? And...if he can die...he forces himself to talk about it. To come to terms with it, because they need to keep going no matter what. He needs to give the others a chance.

"If I'm shot, I'm sorry about all the blood. I'll probably drop my club, take it and find another exit."

Howard's not about to volunteer himself to prairie dog out of the sewer, but the way Cedric discounts himself is certainly disheartening. "Okay. Stay safe. Please."

And then, because admitting he cares about people is hard, he has to add "because getting stuck in a sewer with a dead body sounds like exactly what I don't want my day to end like."

Cedric's voice is soft. He really doesn't want to distress Howard like that. "I'll give it my best. Promise."

He releases the locks as quietly as he can, tentatively lifting it with one hand and listening. If they see him, they'll only be able to shoot his hand off. So far, nothing. That's his cue to lift his head.

Nothing but the sound of his pounding heart. He slowly hauls himself out of the sewer, the cover clutched tightly to one arm. At any second he expects the shots to start. But it seems clear. The robot army is still audible, but they're on another street for now. There are a few seconds of precious time, he confirms, looking around at all angles.

Then he waits a few seconds more, waiting to see if he's triggered an ambush attack. When that passes, he outstretches his hand with a whisper. "We have a moment. Come on!"

He gives a quick nod and crosses his fingers. When Cedric gives the word, Howard relaxes just a fraction, before tensing up again as he realizes that means coming up topside again. He shoulders his kit and pack.

Howard climbs up after Cedric and audibly gasps as his eyes adjust to the light. It's hell on his headache. He pulls his hand from Cedric's and shields his eyes, incidentally covering the massive bruise with his wrist. "Okay. I've noticed they don't patrol the north side of the city. We can loop around that way and probably be safe."

"Yeah," Cedric winces. Too much light. It's unsettling. But he presses on, keeping his head low. They need to find shelter and take care of themselves, that much is clear.

"Lead the way, he invites, snatching up another sharp rock for protection. His club still sits in his hand, waiting.

Good that Cedric has faith in his rocks and clubs, since all Howar has is his knife, and he doesn't think stabbing a Dalek will be all that effective. He slips from shadow to shadow, clearly practiced at running around without detection.

He breaks the lock into a small concrete building and ushers Cedric in. "We can rest here. Where's your scrapes?"

Cedric's good at following, thankfully. He learns as he goes, quietly admiring Howard's speed. He could make a good athlete if he had the confidence, Cedric thinks.

He pauses a moment to secure the door once Howard's skills bring them into a building. "My arms, for the most part. Had to haul myself through some metal and glass on top of all the running and fighting."

And it clearly would've been worse without the plantsuit, now clinging to him to apply pressure and protection to the wounds. He tosses his torn shirt over his head and works at peeling down the suit underneath, revealing a few long scrapes and more bruises. It's more difficult than usual to free his arms.

When that's done, he tries to look closely at Howard and the damage there. "You too?"

"Let's sit down." On one hand, it's to be able to get a closer look at Cedric's arms; on the other, it's because Howard isn't sure how much longer he can keep standing and running. His face is a nightmare, his head feels like it's containing a thousand fanged, rabid rats, and he's not sure when he started to limp but odds are he pulled something somewhere. The bandage around the gash above his ear is loose, too.

Howard gets to his knees and takes a look at Cedric's arms. "Okay, that's good. I mean, it's not good, but these aren't bad. It's all surface damage. I wouldn't even bother if we weren't just in a sewer."

The bruises Howard can't really do anything about; he has a cold pack in his kit, but only one, and Cedric has them on both arms. Not to mention that they probably don't have time to sit around like that. He gets some rubbing alcohol out of his kit.

"This is going to sting, alright?" Not that he expects that to bother Cedric. Athletes tend to have a higher pain threshold than not. "Then I just need some help with the lovely gift that Terminator gave me."

Cedric nods and slides down to the floor, bracing his back against the wall. He's used to a bit of pain, really, and he'd like to present himself as a tough guy. Mouth shut tight, he manages to restrain himself to a few grunts. All his focus is on Howard.

"Looks like it'll sting even more for you," he says when they're done, flicking the sweat from his brow. as he straightens up. "Do you have gloves or something to clean my hands with? You know. For the bandaging."

"Yeah, here." Howard digs through his kit and passes a pair of gloves to Cedric. "It's not as bad as it looks. Just, you know, got thrown into a wall. Concussion. Got shot too, but it's not serious."

He flinches even before Cedric gets a chance to apply the alcohol. Just because he has more trust in Cedric than he does in most people doesn't mean human contact doesn't scare him, and his nerves have been worn thin by the stress of the last few days.

"You know, it's kind of amazing. Everyone's baseline now and no one's died yet."

"That we know of," Cedric whispers, sorting himself out and slipping on the gloves. He holds the uninjured side of Howard's head as firmly as he dares, coming in with the cloth to gently wipe the other side. He works to finish quickly, feeling the obvious discomfort.

"But I need to learn if I want to keep beating the odds as long as I can. Throwing rocks isn't going to get us out of here, your weapons will."

Still the stranger to the methods of fighting used here. He's just about useless without magic and he knows it.

"Hah. 'My weapons'. Hate to break it to you, man, but you need shooting lessons, I'm the wrong person to ask. I mean, I know how to fire one, but there's a reason I don't carry one."

He pulls away from Cedric, trembling only slightly. "If you find someone willing to teach you on the dime, that's good, but don't focus on going offensive right now. Just try and stay alive. Sooner or later, this'll blow over some way or another. You die before then, and I'm coming after you."

He pauses. "Not literally."

Cedric's only slightly disappointed. He works hard at finishing up the bandaging, making sure Howard's wounds are clean, safe, and secured before they move on.

"Or I might be the one haunting you," he taunts, trying to lighten the mood a little. "Some wizards become ghosts when they die. I'd probably move on, but there's always a chance I could have unfinished business..."

"Oh, come on, Cedric, you know you like me too much to haunt me." He winks and winces a bit. His face still hurts. He paws at his bandage a little, then raises his eyebrows. "Not a bad job, man. Maybe I'll get through another supply run without it falling off again."

"It's true," Cedric admits. "And I don't want to spook you, so if I want to stay with you, I have to survive."

He inspects his own work and nods, then shakes his head. "You said you were taking a rest after we get to the Vatican, remember? I'll take over."

"Yeah. You really don't need to add 'more ghosts' to the list of things I'm afraid of." That list is already longer than Cedric is tall.

"Oh, hell no. You have no idea what you're doing. You already almost got killed on round one." Howard wags a finger. "I'll make Diana do it. I at least trust her to not do anything stupid like feed her rations to orphans or whatever."

Cedric pouts. "I've never seen any orphans. Well. Except..." Harry, for one. Most of them, actually. Had their parents even lived? He sometimes doubts it, and that scares him. He's quiet for a few moments, thinking on all the people everyone has lost.

Trying to mask his disappointment, he leans against the wall and listens, busying himself with plans. "I just hope it's still secure. I need to ask someone to teach me to fight, I can't just sit around useless!"

Pent-up frustration bubbling over? Of course.

"Except me, hellooooo." It's a weird word, 'orphan', one that fits like a shirt worn in by someone else. Probably because he doesn't know if it's true, if it fits. No one in the FAYZ ever found out what happened to their parents, although none of the conclusions point in a happy direction. 'Orphan' is at least a better word than, Howard doesn't know, detritus or abandonable goods or whatever. "I'm the only orphan you're allowed to share with."

According to the rules Howard just made up, obviously.

"Yes, you totally can. Because if you get hurt other people will have to carry your dead weight around." Howard figures by now the only way to get Cedric to care about himself is to press at how his death will inconvenience others. "Besides, I already got Zou and Fangs to worry about. Don't make me worry for a third."

It's not easy to admit he cares. He looks angry at himself just for having said it.

Right. Howard too. Cedric's expression becomes serious, and he nods. "I will, you can be assured of that." He definitely wants Howard to live.

He remains stubborn on the training point, though. "I'll do it as safely as possible. If we're infiltrated and the people assigned to protect us aren't quite enough, wouldn't you rather I had a slightly better chance?"

"No," Howard says, totally blunt. "Because you, being you, will try and do some dumb heroic measure to protect the others at your own expense. And I'm just telling you now: don't."

Why throw away a second chance at life?

Cedric is upset by this point---partially because he knows Howard is right, and partially because he's afraid of what will happen when the whole situation is beyond his ability to help. On whether they win or lose, he has no influence. Powerlessness scares him more than just about anything else.

"I'm not going on the front lines, or outside, I know I don't belong there," he huffs, "but I will find a way to support everyone."

Pent-up anger from years of mockery at school is bubbling over. He remembers comforting distraught first years in the school common room, hearing taunt after taunt about the house of duffers. Hufflepuffs are useless, they've never contributed anything to our world, the other students would say.

Bravery's not just a Gryffindor thing.

"Jeez, jeez, okay." Howard puts his hands up in a pacifying gesture, sounding equally huffy. "Sorry I'm trying to keep you out of the line of fire. I'll just keep my thoughts to myself next time."

No, he won't. It's hard to break the habits of being controlling and manipulative. Hard to let things be as they are, instead of forcing them into what you want them to be.

And yes, he's sulking.

That's what makes Cedric realize what Howard is trying to say. It fully hits him then that Howard is worrying about him. He knows Howard well enough not to point this out---instead, he nods and pulls himself upright.

"Or maybe I'm just stubborn. Come on, let's get back to the Vatican. You need your rest, the crew needs their food, and I need to be locked away somewhere relatively safe."

That's a faint smile, yes.

"In a box. A big box with airvents and steel bars that's as good a prison to things inside as it is to outside robots and monsters and crap. A big, ginormous box with a rock on top of the lid and airvents, and steel bars..." Howard mutters, packing up his things and ready to go.

Cedric would die in the FAYZ. Howard's sure of it. And realizing that makes him feel that distance he feels with just about everyone. He wants to be like them, misses being like that.

Maybe that's why he likes Cedric.

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Dashing through the rubble

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aw yeah tagging from Death Valley

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/wrap