savetheearth | town meeting, alien breaking hoa rules

With the arrival of more people, Nick hopes they can handle the snake thing together. He remembers what Lyall's transformation is like, and how hard he'd tried to get out of his locked room - the last thing they need is to have to try to take on a snake statue and a werewolf at the same time.

Especially with the snake chucking stuff at them, thanks for that. ...actually no really, that rocking chair might come in handy, after Nick rolls away to avoid getting hit by it.

It might have been a better idea to slam the kitchen door shut after Lyall, stay on the outside and try to barricade him in there with the chair, but that... is not what Nick does. Partly he's worried about the werewolf going through a window and getting loose in the neighborhood, and partly he's just showing a distinct lack of self preservation, but he yanks the chair into the kitchen after Lyall and slams the door shut behind them both, shoving the chair in front of it.

And then he's going to try to circle around the room, to stand in front of the window.

Jin's been kind of distracted in the thrall of his echo, pulling his gun with difficulty and trying to catch up with the snake as it harasses other people. The woman with the gun-arms is yelling and - oh, that must be Chris, well all right then.

Of course, it's not a huge surprise in the mess that's going on that Nick doesn't notice that the chair that's meant for him hits Jin in the face. It's not entirely surprising that Jin's unable to dodge it, being as he hasn't gotten any real martial skills back and just is a middle-aged (albeit genius) dad with a laser gun.

And when he falls back, knocking the chair a little closer to Nick and really trying to roll, he lands hard on his knee and hears it crack. "Ah--" Screaming about it's not going to make it any better but he definitely whimpers. His medical degree is telling him right now that he's probably cracked an orbital bone and that there's definitely something wrong with his kneecap.

He rolls, groaning, back towards a corner, over some ruined furniture, hoping to god the snake decides to more or less ignore him from here on out, though he's still got the laser gun in hand and is still shakily pointing it towards the snake. He hasn't even shot it yet! It's pretty galling that he's getting taken down by a chair of all things.

Yoko's been fumbling in the aftermath of an echo--a big one--and kind of huddling out of the way, trying to get a handle on it so she isn't even more of a liability. She's got the reflexes of a soldier, the strength and the speed, but nowhere in there are the fighting skills she remembers training for. She finally gets her head under control, and activates her suit with an only half-embarrassed "Let's morphin'!".

She's leaning out from a hallway, looking for the best way to run distraction--she's fast, after all--when she sees Jin. Then, a beat later, she sees him get hit with the chair, and go down. Any self-preservation gets shoved down, and she leaps over a couple jagged pieces of furniture. "Dad!" she calls, as she gets down on his level and puts her gloved hand on his shoulder.

She needs to get him out of the line of fire, and quickly, if the way he reacted to hitting his knee meant what she thought it did. "Dad, are you okay?" A dumb question, as soon as she asks it--obviously not. "Can you walk?" she tries, instead. She could carry him, she thinks, no problem.

Jin takes in a gasping breath, eyes focusing on the familiar-unfamiliar figure in front of him, but it's... definitely Yoko, when she yells. His immediate, broad, fatherly anger suddenly overwhelms his pain and he gets up on his uninjured knee, grabbing her arm. "YOU ARE SO FUCKING GROUNDED!" He thunders, enraged.

Yoko winces. She could've predicted the yelling and the grab to her arm, but she's worried enough that she hadn't even thought about bracing herself for the somewhat inevitable. "Fine! Fine, I'm grounded! But you can't ground me right now, there's more important things to worry about!"

She shakes his shoulder, carefully but insistent. "Can you walk?"

He's definitely forgotten his face is broken and his knee is also broken as he grips her leather covered arm, staring into her face with only one eye as his other is starting to swell closed. "You're grounded right now, and your first job as a grounded daughter is to please take me to the hospital." He shuts his mouth for a moment, feeling abruptly nauseous.

Her shaking him doesn't help, either. "Don't shake me and no I can't walk. I've got a sliver too." He pulls up his other hand and looks at his palm. "Aw man, slivers all over. I'm gonna be a hedgehog." He's just... casting around for ways to still be the big strong guy in charge for the moment, even though his hand trembles with the pain and he definitely can't drive himself to the hospital.

He wasn't scared when he got hit, he wasn't scared at all. He was totally ready to shoot the shit out of that snake, but the second he saw Yoko and realized she was here, it was as if all the bravery drained out of him and he just wanted to get her out of here, and it was poison to realize he just couldn't.

He looks awful. Awful, and tired and, well, old. even around the swelling rising from his eye. It's unsettling and frightening, and Yoko's grip loosens, her elbow stilling. She takes a deep breath, and looks up over her shoulder. "First we've gotta get out of the way," she says, and shifts up. First aid training plays in her head. "Bad knee... Oooh, you get to be the test dummy for my fireman's carry," she says, the humor tense as she leans forward. She pulls on her hand pointedly in order to try and dislodge his hand from her arm.

"C'mon, dad, we can't be in the way," she says, more softly. He's looking a little green--she hopes being upside down over her shoulder isn't going to push him over the edge into being sick. It's already going to be a tough drive home.

"But I wanted to be bride-carried," he whines, though he emphatically doesn't, with his fucked up knee. He swallows down his bile as he lets go and sits up as best he can without messing up his knee. The kneecap is definitely broken... He's reasonably sure that he's never going to be as motile as he was before, ever again. He is a doctor, after all.

"Yeah, yeah. I need to get out of here as fast as possible, and so do you."

"Yeah, okay, princess," she answers, and he won't be able to see her unimpressed expression within her helmet, but it radiates off her despite that. She looks again over her shoulder and then moves to stand. Pull him up, over her shoulders, hold his thigh and his wrist. Not that hard, she doesn't think. That very first pulse had made her strong enough. She grabs him under the arms. "You know how this goes! Right?" His medical degree wasn't that long ago, right?

But his continued admonitions about her needing to get out of here are chafing. "I'd be better off here than you are..." she grumbles, her head near his shoulder as she adjusts her grip and starts to lever him up. Keep the weight off of his knees, Yoko, she reminds herself.

"I'm the queen, you're the princess." Buut he can't keep talking while she's lifting him. In fact, he's definitely having to concentrate very hard on not vomiting even just moving a little bit.

He steels himself as she lifts him. She's too strong. She's way stronger than she should be... He should be the strong one. He feels a stinging in his eyes that distracted him just a little from the pain everywhere else. He wants to say that it's moot how much better she would be, since she's taking him, but he's being lifted so he can't.

"Uh-huh," she drones, and then she's distracted, going as fast and as carefully as she can over the broken furniture and other various broken household items (and wall pieces, and glass, and everything else) so she can find her way out of the damn house, away from the snakes.

All of her instincts are telling her to stay: those things can't be allowed to run loose and let anyone get hurt. But the seventeen year old girl she still is just wants to tuck her dad in the passenger seat of his car and go to the damn hospital. At least that would make sense, in some way.

They're going very fast, in his opinion. He's not sure when this little thing who he used to watch toddle around the floor aimlessly managed to grow into somebody who, albeit smaller than him, is much stronger. It's easier thinking about that than about the jostling of his knee.

She's grown, and they're in danger, and he can't protect her. She has to carry him out? When did this happen? Well, probably about one second after he shattered his kneecap... Or maybe just one second before she got back that echo that gave her super-strength... He's never felt so old. Well, in this life. Maybe he'd feel better when he got echoes back of being older than he is now.

Right now, he's reliving the last page of that shitty kid's book "I'll Love You Forever," but where he's the old lady and his kid's the grown adult dude. He's actually tearing up now, this is stupid. Stop having a cat's in the cradle moment while giant snakes are ravaging a farmhouse you're trying to get out of!!

Luckily for Nick, Lyall is still a wolf with many broken bones and a little bit of internal bleeding to deal with-- not to mention the remains of his clothing. He continues to tear at that, sparing only a brief growl and a warning snap for Nick until he's at least mostly free. There's still the collar of the shirt and a shred of the shirt's back clinging around his neck like some kind of parody of a dog's collar and leash when he finally turns his full attention on Nick himself.

Plenty of time to get between him and the window, definitely. And probably plenty of time to try and come up with more of a plan-- or maybe to regret locking one's self in with a werewolf.

For once, Nick won't make any jokes about collars or leashes.

...for the moment. But he's reserving the right to make them later, when he isn't shut in the same room as a werewolf who probably wants to kill him but is usually one of his best friends.

He makes it closer to the window, and then just waits there, in a loosely defensive stance, although his guns stay firmly in their holsters. Nick's not going to shoot him, no matter how much he might regret locking them in the room together. Right now, his plan consists of keeping Lyall's attention on him, and - hoping that he's pulsed back enough of his hunter other self to be able to knock a werewolf unconscious.

Or maybe actually use his blood for the purpose he thinks his other self used it for.

"Lyall, man, this would be so much easier if you could just magically understand me right now."

Angeline's shriek made Jack recoil out of pure keyed-up reflex. The blue-and-white striped sword (...katana? Was that a katana?) had him doing a doubletake and inching away slightly. These quarters were close? Would she try to swing it? What good would it do? Why is there a stain on it?

All these thoughts were really distracting. To the point that when the lamp and pad and pens go flying at them, he does not notice in time. And does not duck in time. And takes a lamp upside the head. "...f...fuck!" He ducks, he claps a hand over his head, and... and okay, he's just cowering, now. Real brave. Yeah.

Sorry, Nick. There's nothing even remotely like sense in the wolf's eyes right now. There's just anger, pain, and hunger-- and with the threat of the snake outside blocked from his attention at the moment, all of that is focused on Nick. He lunges, though doesn't get far as one hind leg-- twisting under him, still broken near the joint from the shapechange-- doesn't take the weight. Instead of reaching Nick for a bite, he crashes into the floor and a cupboard door, snarl cut short with a yip.

Right, of course not, he knows that would have been way too easy.

When the wolf lunges for him, Nick braces himself, readying to either duck at the last minute or maybe even just let himself be pounced, depending on - oh. Or, well. He could just crash into a cupboard door, that works, too.

While the wolf is, uh. Otherwise occupied, Nick digs through the kitchen drawers until he finds a sturdy, solid looking rolling pin. What, he's going for blunt instrument here, all right? He's trying to get him unconscious, not injure him unnecessarily.

And then, because he's a jerk with a lack of self-preservation, he clicks his tongue against his teeth like he would when calling over a dog. "Hey wolfy, you still with me, or did you save me the trouble of knocking you out?"

Unfortunately for them both, that wasn't enough to knock the wolf out. Lyall gives a snarl at the voice, not understanding anything about it except that it means "prey" or "threat" or potentially both. He scrambles his feet under him again, wheezing at the unsteadiness of it, and lunges again. This time he actually manages not to collapse under his own weight, but there still isn't much force behind it. His teeth are aimed for whatever they can get around: if all that is, is an ankle, he'll make do.

For a brief moment, he considers letting the wolf bite him, and solving things that way. But he doesn't know how much power a werewolf has in its jaws, and before he can think through it, instinct takes over. He dodges, rolling out of the way at the same time as he swings the rolling pin at the wolf, attempting to hit him in the head.

The wolf doesn't have a lot of control, when half his bones are still mending, so while he tries to catch himself on the kitchen counter and launch after Nick, teeth bared, he instead winds up scrabbling and falling half into the sink. It does make his head pretty easy to hit, though, so Nick gets in a good crack, and Lyall tumbles out of the sink onto the floor.

Good thing his bones do heal quickly.

Currently rabid werewolf or not, Nick isn't used to fighting people he cares about like this. It's throwing off his game, making him second guess and doubt himself. Mostly because yeah, sure, as a cop, he's always tried to use the least amount of force and injury necessary, but he's never genuinely cared about the person he's trying to hurt before. He's never had to hit someone with a blunt instrument when he'd rather be taking the hits for them.

Even if that blunt instrument is a rolling pin.

He nearly drops the pin when it connects, but again instinct wins out, and he hangs on to it, backing away a step or two. If he was more himself in this fight, he'd move farther away, circle around to the other side of the room and force the wolf to come after him. But instead, he stays close - too close, and defensive position or not, he's pretty much setting himself up to get bitten.

The wolf staggers to his feet, obviously even more unsteady now, probably dizzy from that crack to the head, but the smell of human flesh is too close to keep him shaking his head for long. He lunges again, this time much closer, aiming for the closest thing he can reach: Nick's shin.

Whatever worry Nick feels when he sees the wolf staggering after that blow is quickly overtaken by oh shit when the wolf lunges at him once again. They're too close, he realizes that now, and has enough time to curse at himself for being an idiot.

But not enough time to get out of the way, and though he moves quick enough that he doesn't get his leg stuck in the wolf's jaws, it's not enough to avoid a pretty good bite.

Now he backs away, but it's a little late for that, as he tries to circle away from the wolf with ripped jeans and a trickle of blood down his shin, and really hopes that his blood works on werewolves.

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rly hopes no one minds this drive-by

or this one.

JUST IGNORE US

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