004

[ectopportunism]

[1. Action- Around Mayfield.]

[Sometime after Ray's rescue, Peter is struggling through town with the other man slung over his shoulder, the two of them pretty speckled with blood from Ray's head. He's running on pure adrenaline at this point, and trying to find some place safe to leave Ray so that he can try to find medical supplies.  Hopefully, a basement somewhere will be open and unoccupied.]

[2. Action- Hospital Ruins/remains of other homes.]

[His mind is flashing back to old, psychology text books. The five stages of grief. Grief isn't a word he'd use to describe his feelings often, but there was enough going on in this town that had caused Peter to bottle up emotions time and time again, only to have them nearly explode at this moment. It wasn't even that Mayfield had done these things to him--- but that it had done them to his friends. His friends that he had promised himself he'd protect, no matter the circumstances. A promise he failed to keep when he didn't get to Ray in time to save him from mutilation. He could hear Ray's words (well, the words of a certain clone of his), in his head as he headed back out of the basement... calling him a screw-up.

Peter had skipped right past the denial stage and straight into anger. He was angry with himself, and with Mayfield in general. He was especially angry at the asshole that had done this to his friend, and had he had a little less self-control, he might have hit the guy with that pipe three of four more times, or until the man's face was no longer recognizable.

His fingers still gripping the pipe tightly, Peter headed for the hospital... or what was left of it. At ground zero, he could dig through the rubble to try to find any salvageable first aid items to patch Ray up a little better, maybe some pain-killers to take the edge off. If he doesn't have any luck there, he figured he could try his luck in a basement or two on his way back. Someone had to have been prepared in ways that he, himself, wasn't.]

Comments

1

[notsaul.livejournal.com]

[It's been a while since the end of the Children's Crusade, and Annie hasn't done much besides wander, looking for a familiar face in the wasteland. When she finally finds one, well... There's a lot of blood on it. She knows this man. This was a man who had seen her tits. That brings people together in a way normal people just don't understand.]

Hey, is he okay? [That is a stupid fucking question.]

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

[He glances over to find the source of the voice.]

He's breathing... if that's what you're asking.

[notsaul.livejournal.com]

That's pretty good, I guess.

[She peers over him, trying to get a better look at Ray.] What the fuck did that? I haven't seen any psychos around today.

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

Some short, fat, blonde asshole with a knife.

[He shifts, trying to slide Ray back up onto his shoulder where he'd been slipping.]

Trying to get him back to my basement, but I'm having a hard time getting my bearings. How close are we to Partridge?

[notsaul.livejournal.com]

[She's quiet for a bit, face hard.] ... Yeah. Yeah, he likes eyes. Sorry.

Dude, I couldn't even tell you what street we're on now. Good luck with that shit.

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

I think I passed that... Pile of rubble on my way out here...shit...

[He glances around, eyes searching for something familiar.]

1

[pkeccentric.livejournal.com]

[head lolling against Peter's shoulder, Ray's one remaining eye is closed, but there's some activity behind the eyelid. like he's struggling - and failing - to achieve consciousness. even now when it would be most beneficial for him to rest, his brain won't let him. all he can think of right now in his stupor is continuing to fight, refusing to give into defeat whether it be in front of the rest of Mayfield or the man who put him in this situation to begin with.

he can hear his heartbeat in his ears and it sounds like a countdown. unsteadily, he murmurs fitfully against the fabric of Peter's shirt.]

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

[He hears Ray and uses his free hand to pat him on the back for reassurance.]

We're almost there, buddy. Hang in there.

[pkeccentric.livejournal.com]

[some numb part of his brain registers that he's being patted, but he doesn't exactly feel it. his senses are too dulled for that now. there are only two things he can really concentrate on: the throbbing agony that's taken up the right side of his face, and the significantly less severe but still unpleasant burning ache caused from the gash that extends from his cheek to his chin.

but he stirs all the same. and, if Peter listens closely, he might be able to make out words. they're faint and slurred, but they're still audible.]

Told you not to drive so fast... Z...

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

Yeah, yeah...

[He kicks aside some rubble, unearthing a set of stairs. Hopefully this was it.]

[pkeccentric.livejournal.com]

[he doesn't notice. right now, his world is comprised solely of memories; from his perspective, he thinks he's back in New York with Winston, sleeping in the passenger's seat with the absolute worst headache. he isn't in the bombed out wreck of 1950s suburbia, and he most certainly is not slung over his best friend's shoulder like a rag doll. that's just nonsense.

he whimpers again. they're home; they have to be.]

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

[After THIS & THIS]

[Peter found his way back with little trouble, and was relieved to find Ray still alive inside the basement. He sat beside Ray, beginning to sort through the bag of supplies that Grimes had given him.]

You awake, pal?

2

[wentthroughhell.livejournal.com]

[Everyone that he had stopped to talk to had been preoccupied trying to deal with the destruction around them. He understood the need to find friends and family, but what he understood more was the need to secure supplies from food, to medical, down to whatever weapons there was to be had. That was why Rick had walked from the neighborhoods before noon straight to the hospital with the market next in mind.

He had found a stairwell partially buried under the rubble leading down to a lower level of the building that possibly had another under that. There had to be storage down there, a morgue, or anything to keep supplies that weren't being used on the floors right? At least that was the theory Rick was going on if it hadn't been demolished too.

Seeing the other man approaching, his hand brushed the hatched on his side out of habit while studying him carefully. That face was dead serious on something and that pipe meant serious business.]

Seem like a man on a mission. Do you need any help?

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

[He was a bit wary of others after seeing the way Ray was treated, but he had enough faith in humanity to hope that this man wasn't some other scumbag.]

Looking for first aid, a friend of mine got scewed up pretty bad. You see anything worth salvaging?

[wentthroughhell.livejournal.com]

There isn't much. If there was anything here it's buried to deep or was incinerated in the blast. Rest of it's in such a shape it might not be worth even tryin' for.

[Shifting the pack on his back, the former Deputy started to move away from where he was standing being careful not to slip or fall. It would have been easier to find houses that hadn't been demolished and strip the sheets for bandages, but, could only do so much with what you had right?]

How bad are they? Don't exactly have a lot, but I haven't been here that long.

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

Figures...

[He kicks a nearby brick in frustration.]

He lost an eye. And a lot of blood. Get him an eyepatch and I think he still might be able to land a job on a ship, somewhere.

[wentthroughhell.livejournal.com]

[For a moment Rick actually hesitated. Would like that could get infected fast unless it was cleaned out. Considering how his luck so far in finding supplies had been rather bleak... Without even hesitating Rick handed the bag over to the guy. He could always find more- it wasn't near dark yet.]

If you want to look for more, I'd be more than willin' t' help. Food, medicine, dressings- unless this place has somethin' else in store then it's gonna be a hard ride.

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

[Well that was easy... Venkman accepted the bag, although he felt a bit concerned.]

What about you? I mean... I can't leave you empty handed--Hey.

[He snapped his fingers as a thought came to him.]

There's some canned goods in the basement pantry... would that be a fair trade?

1

[elevatoravatar.livejournal.com]

[A pale woman with tattered clothes and carrying an axe that she wrestled from the invaders walks by, singing her usual creepy along in Lost Carcosan when she stops and looks at Peter]

You look as a man who is teetering between grief and rage, are you certain these streets are safe to dance in?

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

[He stops abruptly, shifting Ray's unconscious body higher on his shoulder. He's normally so good at masking his emotions, but this was really the first time he's had to see his best friend in such a state. He felt as if he was fraying.]

I'm looking for shelter.

[elevatoravatar.livejournal.com]

I see, a long shelter for recovery, or a short stay till he moves to the next plane?

Either way, the basement of my abode was fortified to keep things in. It works just as well at keeping them out, and these things that wander the wastes are hardly interesting sport.

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

Uh... [He glances around, uncomfortably.]

He'll live. I just need to get some medical supplies... let's go with the former.

[elevatoravatar.livejournal.com]

He can stay with me if you desire. The walk is not far and it seems that the monsters that wander can not stand against a dream.

[sosghosts.livejournal.com]

No offense... but how do I know I can trust you?

2 -

[ooeeooahah]

Peter? What happened?

[ She's already trying to get a look at Ray. ]