Wash doesn't have land legs (dinocrazy) wrote in thereincarnates, @ 2014-01-21 23:03:00 |
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Entry tags: | !plot week, kathleen thorn, kyle wheeler |
WHO: Kyle Wheeler and open!
WHAT: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
WHERE: Dreamland.
WHEN: Backdated to Monday.
It was well known that both Kyle Wheeler or Hoban Washburne had nerves made of rubber bands - they pulled taut under pressure, but never broke. Until now, that was. The funny little man in that Hawaiian shirt said just eight words, repeated over and over again. "Tai-kong suo-yo duh shing-chiou sai-jin wuh duh pee-goo..." Yes. Yes,of course. According to Wash, it was the most perfect moment to shove all the planets in the universe up his ass. Guy had a way with words, true. But even Kyle had to acknowledge the panic that radiated forth from the man. Panic he was starting to feel as well.
"SHUT UP," Kyle bellowed at the still empty sky, to no avail. "SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UUUUUP." They were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the familiar wreckage of a 03-K64-Firefly. Without a prosthetic attached to his leg, every step was too much of a struggle. He was too slow, his body too heavy and the ground was too sandy, too rocky and too uneven. Just a tiny, tiny, tiny fucking nightmare for a guy like him. And it wasn't even the worst part of this whole mess they'd somehow found themselves in.
Even if they weren't pleased about that either, the harpoon that had been thrown through the bridge and had caused Wash's death, only jarred them. It was a painful reminder, a nightmare come true, but as long as they didn't look too often- Or behind, for that matter.
Reavers. They were coming. He was going to be so dead. Again.