Ace Take Your Chances, Queen Wish You Luck[Sileas]

[riskkoltun]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/risktablemid.png] Though fifteen minutes had passed since they had crossed the Fulsi border, Risk still held tightly to Adam. It had been a matter of luck that the pair had made it over the border; the scent of smoke was still heavy in Risk's nostrils, saturated in his clothes, muddling the beta's sense of direction. He'd stumbled over the marker between one territory and the next entirely by accident, the weary, mechanical tread of his steps hitching slightly in relief with the pungent scent of the city that had, only moments ago, felt impossibly far. All the same, he refused to drop his guard, his arms wrapped around the slighter body of the Fulsi alpha protectively. The man felt alarmingly frail against his chest; lighter than he should. Several times, Risk stumbled, the tremors in his legs threatening to throw them both to the ground. His body was failing before his will; unwilling to go on, protesting against the trembling, steady steps he took. But Risk didn't dare set Adam down; for one, the other man couldn't walk. It had only taken him a second to notice the way the shorter man's leg had twisted underneath him when he'd first stumbled across him. Allowing Adam to walk on his twisted ankle would have only slowed them down, and besides that, Risk knew that if he set him down, he wouldn't have the strength to pick him up again; much less prevent an ambitious Carna from following their trail and harming him long before Risk could move to stop them. Not that he was in any real condition to carry the man himself, but at present, he was still the stronger of the two, even with his injuries. His grip tightened about Adam with the slightest noise, Risk's unnaturally large pupils scanning the darkness that surrounded them, as if he expected an ambush at any moment. A growl of frustration escaped him as, his vision clouded by the black and gray floaters that swarmed across his eyesight, he misstep, briefly going pigeon toed, his weight coming down hard on the outside of his foot. Shaking his head his head to clear his vision, and immediately regretting it, he forced one foot in front of the other, jaw set in a stubborn line. Risk didn't recall the rest of the walk; and so he was pleasantly surprised when the ground beneath his feet switched from grass to the roughly paved hardness of the Gospel Complex. In what felt like miles, but was in reality only a few short feet, he reached the doorway, leaning on it heavily with both his hip and shoulder, oblivious to the ugly, wet noise that escaped his throat with a faint swell and burst of blood bubbles from the side of his throat as he laughed in tired relief. The hallway itself seemed to list dangerously to the right as he made his way inside; he couldn't have known that it was himself that was tilting. It was only when his shoulder collided roughly with the wall that he straightened, managing the final few steps into the infirmary. He stood in the center of the room listlessly, and though his grip loosened slightly on Adam, he still made no move to release him. "He needs a medic," he managed, by way of explanation. He had difficulty forcing the words past his lips; there was a strange, slurred quality to them. It was only then that he bent, gently lowering Adam into a chair before placing his hands on the back of it, still standing protectively over the Frenchman. It was as much out of loyalty as to disguise the fact that the chair was currently the sole thing holding him up. Ooc: Ohhh, Risk. x.o

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[sileas]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/siltablemid-1.png] Sileas had been preparing for a slow night. There hadn't been any real injuries to work on that day, just minor scrapes and bruises that would heal just fine on thier own if the Scouts weren't such whiners. It was good that most didn't flirt with her at least, otherwise Hector would have to lecture her about not making the patients hurt worse. It wasn't her fault though, they should at least be able to take a punch and walk it off. Sighing, she ploped down into the nearest chair and nearly jumped back out of it when the cushion sank straight in. Luckily it held and with a few squirms, she managed to make it so that the hand wooden backing of the chair was at least a little cushioned. With that, Sileas tipped the chair back so that the front two legs dangled in the air and the back of the chair knocked against the wall. A nap would be nice for once or even some time just to think. She never got much time to herself anymore, not now that she'd become a Medic. You'd think people in this hell would learn how to take care of themselves. The second Sileas closed her eyes and began to drift off, someone came barging in through the door. Hasitly allowing the chair to fall back onto all four legs with a thud, Sileas opened her mouth to tell the men to piss off and go bother whatever other Medic that should be comeing to relieve her of her shift. She closed it shortly after. Sileas wasn't sure if it was gaping neck wound on the taller one or the fact that the shorter one was her Alpha that worried her more. Getting up from her chair, leisurely because she didn't want to panic the one that was clearly in shock, Sileas made her way towards the men. "You must have forgot to add "And so do I" to the end of that sentence." She said the words dryly, as if there wasn't two men who were about to die in the clinic when no one else with real medical skills was around to help her. Shit, shit, shit, she was going to be the idiot responsable for killing the Alpha at this rate. Might as well run off to become a Carna right then and there, at least they'd be too shocked and give her a head start. Going back to her chair, she dragged it over to the side of the one her Alpha sat slumped in and gestured for the bigger man to sit in it. He seemed vaguely familar but she couldn't place him. Probably one of the suck ups that minded the big guys in power or something, though Sileas had to give him props for still being able to stand let alone carry someone with that neck injury of his. "Sit before you fall over and I have to staple your head to your neck to keep it on." Huffing slightly, she tried to recall where Hector and the others kept the heavy duty stuff. The bandaids and things for cleaning minor wounds were still scattered about on the top on the dresser they used for a desk but bandages and stitching things were no where in sight. Casually she eyed the drawers. "Give me a second to find the proper tools and all." Dropping to her knees, she started opening the bottom drawers, sreaching around for whatever might help the poor saps. "What the hell did you two do anyways?" As long as they were talking, she knew they weren't dead. Ooc: Ignore her. >>

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[riskkoltun]

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[atrb=background,http://i867.photobucket.com/albums/ab236/AxeMar_Equals_Me/risktablemid.png] "I'm fine." The words left his lips in an automatic, curt assertion. No doubt the dismissive response would have sounded far more convincing if it hadn't been for the extensive gap between the words; a strange, hitched pause in his speech that made it clear the man had had to search for the appropriate word. The words themselves left his lips in a clipped, authoritative tone. It was clear, by the way his fingers tightened on the wooden spacing of the chair, that what he'd really meant was Stay where you are. For a tense moment, he watched Sileas as she slowly rose to her feet; his expression guarded. "This dumb bastard is the one who nearly caught all of Carna on fire, including himself." It was then he caught her gaze. It rested on Adam with a look that communicated gaping shock. He tensed. It was irrational. Some vague part of him realized this. But it was a hazy, distant sort of knowledge, one that was shoved violently to the back of his mind in favor of his mounting unease. She was looking at Adam. The stress of the past several hours had finally caught up with the man's exhausted body and mind. Though later it'd be difficult for him to pinpoint exactly why, the one thought that dominated his mind was a simple She's looking at him. I don't like it. Which is why, no doubt, it struck him as entirely natural to meet her gaze with his own, his own darkened and slightly unfocused in contrast to the clarity in her own. A growl rose in his throat then, low and visceral in its clear threat. He stared at her unflinching, unblinking. Her efforts to stare her down, however, were disrupted by the shrill and weighty noise of chair legs grating across the floor. For a moment, Risk reeled, disoriented by the noise and the sudden, sickening lurch of the room that came when he took a reflexive step back at her approach. Risk stared, swaying slightly on his feet, his gaze uncomprehending as Sileas gestured to the secondary chair. His lips started to part in a smile, though he quickly stopped, the gesture spoiled as the jagged wound of his throat separated slowly, as if in an echoing, sickly Cheshire grin. "I'd rather stand," he said, his voice hoarse and a bit strained from smoke inhalation. And then, a bit more hesitantly, and ever so slightly ponderously "...Head's don't do that. Fall off, I mean. You can't literally lose your..." Her next question, however, brought him out of it, however slightly. He sighed. "I walked into an ambush. Adam, on the other hand..." he frowned, his voice quieting. "I don't know. I should have been there. I shouldn't have let this happen in the first place."

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