iii. - [ VOICE ]

[brandedjustice]

Anyone already signed up for the Task Force, I need you on the docks now. No questions, no nothing. I need that placed locked and secured.

[There's a harsh whirl of air; it nearly muffles Smoker's voice completely.]

Damnit, kid. Why did it have to be you?

[ooc; strikes are muffled. Smoker is raising hell by the docks and he's coming for you,

Comments

Action;

[pseudism]

[He had promised to meet Spike, sooner or later.

Though Giovanni very much doubted that approaching him as he staggered home in the dark, beating him with his gun and kicking him into the wall so hard he smacked his head open against it was quite what Spike had had in mind at the time the date was made, Giovanni had never been one to back out of his promises. And that was why Smoker should have seen it coming, as well. He should've known better when he challenged his competence.

But with things changing as they were, there was plenty of time for him to learn a different set of manners.

With Heine, and now with Smoker, a small deviation in the usual pattern was already making things change, get new and exciting and interesting in a way they hadn't been for a long time. It wouldn't last, but it only needed to work once, and he'd be more than satisfied

Action; :D I love waking up to you guys jesus

[brandedjustice]

[Smoker's head slid back and he could feel his hair moistening with more blood. He frowned, lips twisted even as Giovanni licked away at his wounds with the sort of smile that was left for the worst of men. The Commodore grimaced, blue eyes swallowing Giovanni whole.]

If you think - for a god damn minute - this is over - [His fingers slid against the ground, slicking themselves in blood, but he just stared at Giovanni, even as the haze around him continued to thicken - he was leaking and out of control of himself. A bad time to be a close to the bottom of a bottle; he wasn't prepared for this

Action; Likewise! :')

[pseudism]

[Giovanni jumped back from the resounding bang of the door bursting open, gun drawn ready for whatever might be waiting - but it was a pretty sure thing that nothing adequately prepared someone for a man riding a giant termite.

... But not a threat, by the looks of things. So Giovanni took a moment to survey the scene as it stood, with Spike prone on the ground and Smoker trying not to be, still thinking of his men over himself, still trying to hold his body together when it was crumbling apart and form some semblence of defense. There was an audible drip, drip of blood. The smell was thick enough to rival the smoke.

So there was the Commodore's weakness, after all; physically superior, stubborn, single-minded, but even he had a clear vulnerability, just like any other normal person.

He really should have tried this sooner.]

I don't think you should be worrying about me, Commodore.

I'm afraid I should be going home, now. When you get back from the dead, you'll tell me what it's like, won't you?

[Giovanni smiled quirkily,

Action; c:

[meronymous]

[ though kasukabe had been staring at the scene dumbly for a long moment, it didn't take too much longer for him to figure out what was going on. especially once the gunshot wound was visible. (ah, so. the man in the glasses is probably the culprit, and i assume the man tied up is the hostage. at least his injuries don't seem too bad, but that gunshot wound looks terribly close to the vital organs, and --)

the sudden shouted command and the explosion of smoke startled him out of his thoughts. he was really a doctor, not a combatant, and though he instinctively clapped his hand to his mouth to hold his breath, he almost fell off jackson's back when the spectacled figure came darting forward.

not that he was just going to sit there staring, though. because after only a brief moment's pause he jumped off jackson's back, pointing out the doorway and shouting, ]

Go after him, Jackson!

[ with a resounding screech, the enormous termite went barreling down the street after the fleeing figure, clawed legs clacking along the pavement

Action;

[brandedjustice]

[Despite his strength, Smoker solidified almost immediately after Giovanni's departure. His head cracked against solid wall, smearing it with distinct trails of blood and grime; he felt ill, sick in his stomach that his prey had escaped. It was more damage to him personally than any bullet wounds or head trauma and he growled out Giovanni's name through the phlegm that had heavily built up in his throat.

His body slummed, knees too weak to keep him up anymore. He watched through the cloudy-darkness, examined the twisting smoke that tried to hold his body together. His own logia felt like it was choking him off, smothering him instead of the enemy. The Commodore coughed and groaned. fingers digging into solid concrete in a desperate attempt to just fucking stand. Stand damnit, he barked internally. If you don't fucking stand - ]

Spike - get him out of here. Get him out! [Wild eyes tried to make out the form of Kasukabe, but he was only a shadow in the ever-growing mess that swirled in the Marine's vision. His teeth pulled back,

Action;

[meronymous]

[ oh, it was always troublesome when his patient (or patient-to-be, sometimes) refused to sit still. but kasukabe knew better than to try and argue with someone this far gone. especially since it looked like they were made or smoke. intriguing and confusing, and kasukabe made a mental note to himself to gather some of this smoke later as he waded into the midst of it to tend to 'spike

Action;

[brandedjustice]

[Wounded eyes slid to watch Kasukabe emerge with Spike wrapped up in his arms. It made the Commodore silent for a moment as he tried to push away the fog - Spike had gotten it rough and that was his responsibility. His men counted on him and now, he was in no state to even lend them any sort of hand.

Smoker's eyes shut as he let his body collapse by the entrance way. Numb fingers twitched to life, running up familiar lapels of leather, over tough green fur, to strapped down tobacco. Two were removed, plucked from their resting spots, and placed in his mouth after a couple of seconds of fumbling. A flick and a flare later, and the Commodore was sucking hard on dry tobacco, tasting as it meshed with the copper aftertaste of blood.]

Then start patching - [His voice was weak, but hard. He threatened his medic with a growl at the end, as if this were just a normal battle wound or something on those lines. Teeth clamped down on his cigars as he inhaled again, feeling his chest rise and his lower stomach region pump more evidence out onto

Action;

[meronymous]

[ trotting after smoker, over to where he had collapsed on the ground, kasukabe simply stared at the hulking form for a moment before deciding that attempting to move the other would only be a waste of time. he did, however, plop down on the ground and start to don a pair of surgical gloves, extracting what supplies he had from their protective cases in his med-pac.

any intense surgery would have to wait until they got to somewhere cleaner and more stable, but he could at least stop the blood for now. snapping his gloves on, he deftly sliced a section of smoker's shirt away from the gunshot wound. lifting up his scalpel for a moment before pausing -- and pulling a pre-prepared syringe of anesthetic out of its sterilized container. leaning up, he jabbed it into the appropriate vein in smoker's arm without warning, saying cheerfully, ]I'm afraid the dose isn't big enough to knock you out completely, and two shots would be a bit too much. It'll take the edge off the pain, though, and we can put you on something more stable once we get

Action;

[brandedjustice]

[One eye pried open, watching in disdain as Kasukabe plucked the cigars from his mouth. He mouthed something, sending smoke pouring out from his teeth.] You don't tell me if I get to have those or not. [But he made no other fuss and, instead, just turned his head back to the cooling comfort of slate behind him. He hadn't been to the hospital in years, so the feeling of the injection sent his hairs bristling in response. Smoker's face contorted a bit, but that was the only gesture he gave of displeasure.]

I'd rather be awake to make sure Spike will make it back to HQ. [The skittering of insect legs made him open his eyes again; before him was a piece of cloth, tattered and torn, but unmistakable. A smile tugged at Smoker's lips, bitter but content.] Good bug. [He reached out with a good hand and grabbed the fabric. His thumb rolled across plain white, painting it a bit with blood. Smoker tilted his head, expecting how the trails dotted white.]

How much do you know about genetic modifications, Doc?

Action;

[meronymous]

HQ? I don't know where your HQ is located, but I was going to have Jackson take him to where I've got a little lab set up. I've got better equipment there, and it will probably be more sterile. He might need a stitch or two for that scrape, so I'll be examining him once you're out of critical condition.

[ his movements didn't pause, even as he spoke, and he deftly tied off a spurting vein. the bullet was lodged a bit too deep to dig out without cutting wider, and that was a job he preferred not to tackle out in the open. ]

Genetic modifications, not much, but I know a bit about magic users and their physique. I'm assuming you're a little different since your smoke isn't black -- but I can probably work around any little differences, I'm used to dealing with oddball cases, running a magic victim clinic, haha.

[ he'd stopped the majority of the heavy bleeding, and he taped the injury closed before standing up and popping his joints. immediately, jackson was nudging closer, ducking low to wiggle wings under smoker's weight and lifting

Action;

[brandedjustice]

HQ is the dock area I had cleared out - but we'll take care of this business first. I need to be ready to get back on the front. [Smoker was imaging how fucking ridiculous he looked on the back of an overgrown termite, but beggars couldn't be choosers, especially not when he had lost too much blood to even raise his arm above his head without exerting effort.]

Simple - I am smoke. No salt water near me and we're golden. [He slumped on the bug's back and huffed. He wanted a damn smoke, but Doctor-Feel-Good was watching. He'd have to wait until he was back in his bunker; he'd have his cigars and rum and everything needed to wash away the stench of Giovanni. But first - ] Your bug is well trained. Make sure you get Spike there soon; I don't want to lose him. [His voice was a bit pained, but he masked it under grunts and snorts. Real manly, that Marine.]

Welcome to the Task Force, Doc. Hope you're ready for the ride. [Fingers of smoke peeled off, wrapping around the jitte. They held it loosely before thrusting it into the strap on the

Action; aaaa sorry for late :'|

[meronymous]

Ah, I see!

[ kasukabe didn't even attempt to hide the interest in his voice. (note to self: procure blood and tissue samples during surgery for later examination, may possibly be linked to the transformative smoke of magic-users.) and he watched in abject fascination at the smoke that curled around the jitte, lifting it up. the seamless transformation from flesh to smoke and back again was scientifically impossible, and he couldn't wait to start looking into the mechanics of how that worked. ah, so interesting!

-- still, for now, the patients came first, and he gave a cheerful grin and a nod in response to the commodore's words ]

Don't worry about him, I'll be sure to fix both of you up well. And I'm glad to be of help -- I was looking for something to occupy my time, haha.

[ and with that, he leaned forward to tap jackson on the head, pointing down the street. as the termite went speeding away with a low squeak, kasukabe nodded, then crouched down to monitor spike's vitals -- just in case. ]

Action; I feel too lazy not replying to this at least once;;

[7livesleft]

[Spike imagined himself being dragged somewhere; like a dream he couldn't control or make sense of. A very loud, annoying dream, with gunshots and explosions and the lingering feeling that he should be raising hell about something or another.

He felt his hand wet before he realized he'd brought it to his head and suddenly he was brilliantly and painfully awake.]

Ah--

[Vaguely aware he wasn't alone, he cracked one eye open and winced against the smallest amount of light that drilled directly into his skull. He thought he asked how long he was out, but he couldn't be too sure.

Pushing his arm behind him, surprised at how sore it was, he propped himself up to a half sitting position and forced the person beside him into focus.

He stared hard for a moment, like he was someone he remembered... but he wasn't. Spike closed his eyes again as his head split open and wondered why he wanted to wake up for this in the first place.]

Christ...

Action; after a million years ._.;;;

[meronymous]

[ it wasn't that far from here to the lab and back, but kasukabe had told jackson to run as smoothly as possible, so it would take at least a few minutes. ample time for him to cut through spike's ropes, rearrange his limbs in a slightly more comfortable, elevate his feet with a few bricks lying around, and then sit around the curbside waiting. and of course, being the fidgety type, he wasn't exactly just sitting still. the gloves drenched in smoker's blood, he'd carefully sealed in a plastic bag for later examination, and he sat holding them up to the light and squinting at the blood. it certainly didn't look any different --

ah. noise. his patient must have woken up. sliding the plastic bag back into his medipack, he turned to spike with his usual amiable smile ]

Hello! You probably don't want to get up just yet. I'm pretty sure it's nothing serious, but you still might have a concussion, so it's best to stay still.

[ ah, but while spike was sitting up. -- without really pausing his words, he'd pulled a penlight out of his

Action; ahhh also really slow oopes :(;;;

[7livesleft]

[The man in front of him was talking, and Spike did his best to process what he said through the pulsating pounding of his ears. An accident? Spike was scanning around him for the ambulance and thinking how much he hated hospitals before he remembered where he was. Just not how he got there.

Light flashing in his eye caught him off guard; for a brief second he saw a reflection of wires and circuitry and jerked back, slapping the hand away in the process.]

Hey!

[The sound of his own voice was distant, but he knew he'd said it loud enough for him to hear. In case he didn't, Spike added an accusing glare.]

What did you say? Who are you?

Action;

[meronymous]

[ ah -- at least it looked like there wasn't any bad damage, here, judging by the healthy tone of voice. brushing off the snapping answers with no effort, kasukabe only gave spike a grin. ]

A doctor. Call me Kasukabe, and I said that you probably shouldn't be moving around too much, since you might have a concussion. But hold still for the moment.

[ moving spike's raised arm out of the way with the gentle-but-firm, practiced hand of an expert, he leaned back in to check spike's other eye, giving a firm nod at the proper pupil contraction this time. not that he could resist checking the opposite eye, too. announcing, sounding fascinated, ]

Ooh, it's a fake. I wondered for a moment if I'd have to correct some nerve damage.