Harry Flynn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tipstheodds) wrote2012-02-26 05:33 am
tipstheodds) wrote2012-02-26 05:33 am
[RP] train-wrecked;
[ what harry remembers:
the gunshot had been extraordinarily loud in the train car. it'd taken him a few seconds to register what had happened out of shock, disbelief that it'd actually happened. his eyes had gone from lazaveric's face to the gun in his hand, then to nate's face and darted to the color blossoming on his shirt. he'd been so focused on the conversation, the let's gos not getting into nate's head to remember, even think about the monster on board, how much attention they'd attracted -
they'd fled back to a further car when the lackeys came out, huddling together behind a seat and nate had looked way too pale, too much blood on his shirt and jeans and hands and no time to do anything but clutch their guns and wait for a clear line of sight to go down shooting. there'd been more than a few times during this venture where harry had questioned the wisdom of dicking lazaveric over, but strangely enough that hadn't been one of them despite death staring them in the face.
then the car had exploded and things went black.
when he comes to he's cold, freezing to the bone and the wind's howling somewhere above his head. he's numb, but he works himself up onto his palms, something - what, is that snow? definitely snow, right, the train had been headed for the himalayas after all - sliding off him as he moves to gauge the situation. it comes out roughly to this: the train lays in pieces all around him, burning and half-buried. his head's pounding (that's a possible concussion) and he can barely feeling anything, and there's nobody at all. no thugs, no chloe, no lazaveric. no nate.
goddammit.
he forces himself to his feet, working sluggishness out of his limbs as he moves. ]
Nate! NATHAN! Where the hell are you, you dumb git?!
[ assuming he can answer. assuming he's not dead. don't you dare be dead. he moves forward, winding his way through the wreck, trying to make himself be heard above the screaming winds whipping around the mountain. ]
the gunshot had been extraordinarily loud in the train car. it'd taken him a few seconds to register what had happened out of shock, disbelief that it'd actually happened. his eyes had gone from lazaveric's face to the gun in his hand, then to nate's face and darted to the color blossoming on his shirt. he'd been so focused on the conversation, the let's gos not getting into nate's head to remember, even think about the monster on board, how much attention they'd attracted -
they'd fled back to a further car when the lackeys came out, huddling together behind a seat and nate had looked way too pale, too much blood on his shirt and jeans and hands and no time to do anything but clutch their guns and wait for a clear line of sight to go down shooting. there'd been more than a few times during this venture where harry had questioned the wisdom of dicking lazaveric over, but strangely enough that hadn't been one of them despite death staring them in the face.
then the car had exploded and things went black.
when he comes to he's cold, freezing to the bone and the wind's howling somewhere above his head. he's numb, but he works himself up onto his palms, something - what, is that snow? definitely snow, right, the train had been headed for the himalayas after all - sliding off him as he moves to gauge the situation. it comes out roughly to this: the train lays in pieces all around him, burning and half-buried. his head's pounding (that's a possible concussion) and he can barely feeling anything, and there's nobody at all. no thugs, no chloe, no lazaveric. no nate.
goddammit.
he forces himself to his feet, working sluggishness out of his limbs as he moves. ]
Nate! NATHAN! Where the hell are you, you dumb git?!
[ assuming he can answer. assuming he's not dead. don't you dare be dead. he moves forward, winding his way through the wreck, trying to make himself be heard above the screaming winds whipping around the mountain. ]
no subject
he considers it, the proposal, everything, brows furrowed and head tilting as he takes nate in for a quiet moment. that is rather simple, even if it's probably too simple concerning the situation. nothing's ever simple when betrayal comes into play, and whoever thinks so has never been on the receiving end. still he nods, giving a small smile of his own. ] Sounds a hell of a lot better than wandering back out in the blizzard, if nothing else. Suppose I'll stay.
[ so that's that, for better or worse. hopefully better. ]
no subject
Still, the smile gets him to exhale and he nods back, shifts to stand and get off of Flynn. Bending down, he reaches a hand out to the other to help pull him up. This is either a big mistake or something that could be good again. He knows he looks ridiculous, tussled with snow and grass everywhere, but that doesn't matter.
Somehow, somewhere, he hopes this will be like the good old days. They're going to screw Lazarevic over. Him, Elena, Chloe, and now Harry.]
Good to have you, then.