The Binding of Isaac

[gamemakers]

Who| All those who signed up for the plot!
What| Capitol rebels attempt a break in and dismantling of dangerous weaponry.
Where| In a warehouse just beyond the very end of the cityline
When| Some time following Arena 13
WARNINGS| Please specify warnings in tag headers.
NOTES | Remember that if you did not sign up, it will be assumed you are not participating in the plot. Plotting can be found here! IC plotting is here!

Comments

[justoutrunyou]

Her eyes widened for just a moment when she saw Shepard approaching. Her first thought was "Thank god she's OK." followed up almost immediately by "Oh no, where are we going?"

But she forced a smile and it almost looked completely natural as she slid off the sofa she had been keeping watch from. "Can I get a brownie too?"

Idle small talk, nothing to see here just a scruffy little kid who's been here too long clinging to the affections of one of Panem's most infamous badasses.

They couldn't talk in the Tribute Tower, not really. The only place Sandy felt reasonably safe in the building was the bathrooms and only with the shower turned on. Given what Sandy had volunteered to do for this mission that simply wasn't practical.

So instead they set out into the streets. Nightlife in The Capitol was as busy as ever. A regular party of color and music and people swarming about just generally taking for granted how easy their lives were in the Capitol. Sandy was just a step ahead of Shepard to try and subtly lead her to the closest blindspot.

"I like your hair." She commented offering a smile, her eyes searching for any sort of indication of how good or bad things went. So far she had deduced that if Shepard was still able to walk and talk and act normal those were all good signs.

[earthborn]

Sandy was inexperienced; someone who knew Shepard better would never have taken her apparent ease for a good sign. She was no Chakwas, but then... Well, it was just one bullet, really. Right?

God, Shepard hoped so. Keeping quiet while the kid dug out half a dozen fragments wasn't something she wanted to think about. Not without anesthetic, at least.

"Thanks-- Been thinking about growing it out," gotta keep it light despite how her back felt like one massive bruise and the stabbing, crackling pain that came with every too-hard footfall, "Let's duck in here, I'll show you how I did it."

Well, it was a blindspot, yes, but it was also technically a public restroom the size of a closet. But it had running water and it was cleaned once every couple of days, and it was better than trying not to attract attention from some convenient camera-shadow in the bushes, in the dark.

That, and the door locked. As good as could be expected, really.

[justoutrunyou]

As soon as the lock on the door clicked shut Sandy let out a breath she'd been holding and scurried to each of the bathroom stalls opening the door and peering inside.

"Clear." She called from the last one soft enough that her voice wouldn't echo on the tile. Shuffling back to Shepard with imploring eyes she waited for the news, good or bad.

[earthborn]

"Good," Shepard grunted, trying to ease her artfully torn vest off without rotating her right shoulder too far-- with some little success, "Help me with this, will you?"

The denim was untorn, it'd been left behind in the actual fight, but her undershirt-- blessedly a deep navy, and therefore unlikely to show color at a distance, was more of a mess. She stripped that off too, though with less care. Why bother, it was already torn, there, where the bullet had gone in.

"Okay, this is where I need you to keep it together, okay? There's bullet, in my shoulder. It's gotta come out, gotta sterilize the entry point," her voice was a whisper, sharp and low. The blood was very red against her skin, "Should be a kit stashed around here somewhere. Peroxide and tweezers, a little blade if you have one."

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy's face went from curious to pale as she helped take off the vest and got her first look at Shepard's wound. For a moment it looked like she might not be able to handle it but she blinked hard and seemed to stiffen like she was willing herself to turn on her stone skin powers. Nothing happened of course but her fingers curled into fists and she nodded with a tension in her neck.

Shuffling away she ducked into a stall. "I stashed the med kit in here, I know exactly where it is." The sound of a toilet seat being put down, scraping of tile and then she came back out with a medium sized kit, opening it and examining the contents. Amusing enough in her other hand was a bottle of whisky. While her eyes were scanning the kit she held the bottle out to Shepard in offering.

She was doing her best but the tight grip she had on the kit and the bottle gave away how incredibly freaked out she was on the inside.

[earthborn]

She turned on the water in the sink, left it running, then sat beside it. The tiles were cold and clean and real under her thighs, and the contrast was something with being grateful for. What a shit-run that had been-- but one day, one day, one day, she'd be off the leash, and on that day there would be no more half measures. No mercy, no life except the life running read down linoleum-plastic, no need to hold back.

The Peacekeepers always saw these things, these little forays, as such an affront. They went home to their families and wrote complaints never thinking, really, that every last one of them should have been dead.

"You have to breathe, kid," she sighed, "Here, feel along the bruise. Feel the lump?"

Carefully, with a pretense of calm, she explained it what Sandy would have to do. They didn't have time for finesse, although it felt private. She would have to work fast to avoid suspicion.

"...and use the whole bottle if you have to. It stings like a bitch, but it's better than an infection. You got this?"

[justoutrunyou]

There was a moment of hesitation as she ran her fingers over the lump and her stomach did another barrel roll coming to terms with what was just below the skin. When she spoke her voice cracked, "Y-yeah..."

Then she felt the tile under her feet and the stillness in the air. Somewhere in the back of her mind a voice whispered to her.

You do be having this.

Another deep breath through her mouth and she let it out through her nose. Steady now, pretending she could turn to stone even when she was still delicate flesh and valuable blood.

"I've got this. It's going to be OK."

This time she actually sounded sure of herself. Shepard needed her right now. Shepard had given her so much since they met and asked for so little in return. She couldn't mess this up.

Setting to work she swallowed down her squeamishness even as Shepard's blood got on her fingers. She'd rolled her sleeves up to avoid staining them.

She was not skilled, and a lesser person probably would have lost their patience with her as she worked to get the hunk of metal out. But Sandy trusted that Shepard would endure so long as she did her best.

The entire process took about ten minutes of poking, digging, cutting and wiggling. But to Sandy it felt like an hour at least. Her face was soaked in sweat by the time the heavy projectile hit the sink with a sharp "TINK" sound.

[earthborn]

They were trained to withstand interrogation. There was a trick to it, like guided meditation. Don't even think about the words fibre or cut. You're far away, somewhere beautiful and peaceful and good. The pain lives somewhere else, and you're in this place you've gone away to. A safe, happy place.

She could feel Sandy work, but her breathing didn't hitch. It hurt, yes, but in a distant, detached way. The pain didn't mean anything. This was what had gotten her through those first few weeks after waking up with fissures of magma in her face. This was what had gotten her through the months after Aratoht, when even the Alliance wouldn't pretend to understand her reasoning anymore.

This was a tool; it would see her through. Tink went the bullet, and the red swirled away; the reached for it and felt the body-warm metal cold under the water. She looked at it-- a mostly-whole slug, mushroomed awkwardly, it had once had a hollow tip, the bastards. It must've hit the bone weave, but it wasn't fragmented.

"Good. Good girl. Use the medig-- the spray, seal me up, and we can get out of here."

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy was starting to feel like she was watching someone else do this. Rinsing red from her hands, taking out some antibacterial towelettes to clean the area before she started patching up. Only some of the whisky ended up being used and the smell mingled horribly with the antiseptic, blood and sweat. Sandy might have taken a bit longer then was entirely necessary to ensure that the wound was as clean as possible before the took up the spray to seal it. The last thing she wanted was Shepard to get sick after all this.

Was it even capable for Shepard to get sick? Somehow Sandy felt like germs were afraid of her.

Finally, the last step was a series of adorable bandages each featuring pictures of cartoon breakfast items that were crying. "The Crying Breakfast Friends" show was a strangely popular cartoon among Capitol children but Sandy didn't understand it. It took three hole bandages to cover the hole to Sandy's satisfaction. Easy enough to hide for a week or two before the wound was just another scar in the making.

"G-guess all that studying came in handy." She mumbled saying the first words she'd uttered since the affirmation that she could do it. Still not allowing the magnitude of it hit her she packed up the First Aid Kit so it could be hidden again.