InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Don't have a cow, man"

Vas Captio Mods (vas_captio_mod) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-06-08 15:47:00

Entry tags:

!complete, day 10, george lass, jay, location: gas station, logan, open, silent bob

Day 10: Gas Station - 1:15pm
Who: OTA
What: Seven point five
When: 1:15pm - 5:00pm
Where: Gas Station
Rating: TBA
Status: Active

The sun was shining high in the sky and a gentle breeze stroked the leaves of the trees, making them, along with the severed stub of rope on the clock face from the day previous sway lazily. It was quiet. Perhaps it was too quiet, for the lack of birds chirping or insects buzzing.

All in all, the day was one of the most pleasant as of yet for the bulk of the involuntary residents of Vas Captio, save, of course, the heat. Maybe it was a bit too hot to be entirely comfortable.

It started small, as most things do. The glass fronted coolers chattered gently and a couple bricks of the marijuana inside toppled harmlessly to the floor. Outside the windmill began to spin and the gas pump nozzles rattled lightly.

All was quiet for a moment before bursting into loud, booming explosions as the gas tanks beneath the pumps ruptured with whatever fuel was not evaporated by now. Fires burning flickered and licked upward and outward at the building. Behind the gas station the windmill toppled on its rusty supports into the forest. Inside, the glass fronted coolers cracked and exploded in a spray of glass everywhere within the small building.

The floors, made of concrete and wood, pitched and the checkout counter split down the middle. The building itself stood strong and would have been fine. Except the ferris wheel, carried by the force and weight of the roller coaster train, swung down fast and hard into the fiery mess of the gas station, crushing everything, including the roof, in its path.

Vas Captio was still, again, and silent once more.

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notgivingashit
2009-06-09 07:43 am UTC (link)

It all happened mid pudding. Literally, George had eaten half of that disgusting but addictive chocolate pudding when she heard the marijuana cooler glass shattering and then she felt like she was shaking, everything was shaking beyond control.

And then the explosion. And George dropped the pudding and the spoon to the floor, taking only a second before realizing she should jump back a bunch of steps in order to not get the worst of the fire - except it kept coming her way anyway. She heard another huge noise, something tumbling outside, but she didn't go check. She was afraid; right now, she was actually afraid. Much more than before, much more than even after seeing someone's dead body and not knowing it was going to happen beforehand. And then, she took an enormous shard of glass to the stomach, which took her by surprise more than anything else - she knew she wouldn't die of this, in all likelihood. It still hurt like a bitch.

George didn't know if there were other people there. She could swear she'd heard voices, but she had been too hungry to strike up conversations. Now, she was at least glad she had jumped off the counter when the weed case glass shattered, because if she had stayed, she would now be in the mdidle of a cracked checkout counter, probably with a bunch of broken bones. Not that she felt much better right now, she still hadn't had the time to remove the glass, and it was unlikely that she would just yet, because suddenly, this roaring sound of metal upon metal came down on her, and George witnessed in slow motion as something smashed the roof of the convenience store, and she had nowhere else to move to.

She was now alive, but trapped underneath a roller coaster and debris. And it didn't seem probable that anyone would hear her scream for help.

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silent_bob
2009-06-09 06:42 pm UTC (link)

Bob had been in the middle of measuring out the brick of weed. He had some plastic wrap and a knife and he was carefully dividing out the piles and then tying his little pouches shut with surprising accuracy. He gave pause a moment, something yellow in the brick catching his eye. What the fuck was that?

Plucking it out Bob canted his head, "Bob, Randy's Fill and Chill, 3:45 PM." That was fucking weird. It did say his name though and being that he was half fucking baked it seemed really fucking funny at the time. So funny that Bob actually started laughing before sticking the yellow note to his forehead.

Then the ground started shaking. Bob watched in horror as the shelves dropped their contents. What the fuck? Bob put his hand against a shelf and pushed himself out the fucking door. He didn't want to be the fuck in there when the world was all fucking rumbly.

Then the world didn't just rumble, it fucking turned into a mosh pit. The ground split, and Bob didn't realize until it was too late he'd chosen the wrong door. Reaching up he pulled the post-it from his forehead, crumpling it in his palm as the gas tanks beneath his feet exploded.

Bob landed just inside the no disintegrated doorway of the Not Quick Stop, his legs turned black, a long, deep gash across his middle where a piece of shrapnel had torn right through him.

Bob blinked. He couldn't feel a thing.

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_snoogans_
2009-06-10 03:20 pm UTC (link)

Fucking Silent Bob wanted to fucking make a science out of collecting the bricks of weed. Jay thought it was useless, hence why he'd stayed outside, leaning against the wall, smoking a joint all by himself. And this had to be laced with something shitty, because weed wasn't supposed to make shit shake around you. No, wait. Shit was shaking around you. Holding on to the walls - and fingers holding the joint firmly - he started making his way inside to conference with his hetero life mate about what the fuck this was about.

And that was when the explosion happened, something that he could only describe as a huge fucking thundering sound and flames everywhere. Jay's first reaction had been to run back to where he'd been, but the explosion happened before he could think and he found himself being projected into the air, as his joint found its way into the front of his shirt - that shit burned! - and he landed on both his arms just next to the Not Quick Stop. He was fucking lucky that the pile of iron had fallen from the other side, otherwise he'd be under it. But fuck it hurt like a fucker. His arms felt like they weren't his anymore, something was very wrong there. At least that landing had put the butt out. Where was Silent Bob?

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clawed_one
2009-06-10 04:08 pm UTC (link)

Logan had moved with a purpose from the moment he'd gotten back to his feet in the gym. Well ... until he'd walked outside and seen the extent of the damage. That had stopped him for a few seconds, just staring in disbelief.

A quick sensory check, and he was running for the gas station and the fire. There were people there, two for sure.

He found Jay first, just outside of what was left of the gas station. Without a word, he gently hauled Jay to his feet.

"Get the hell out of here." He said. "This fire's gonna spread, and we got no way to stop it. Get to the gym." He told the other man, tone making it clear that getting the frack out of here wasn't an option, no matter what shape Jay was in.

Then he plunged into the inferno, cursing a blue streak as the heat singed him, and avoiding the flames as much as he could. He'd not do anyone a damn bit of good if he got crisped.

"Hang on!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs, coughing at the smoke. "Help's on the way!"

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notgivingashit
2009-06-10 07:37 pm UTC (link)

George had passed out about three or four times already. Not that she thought she was going to die, but she retained some form of humanity and that form was strained by the weight, the heat, and the fear. She had tried to get out from under the rubble, but so far, to no avail. She wondered what would happen to her if she burned. And right after, she wondered what had happened to Cameron Kane after he'd been chopped off and cremated and sent into oblivion. Had he died? Could he be back? Would she die if there was nothing left of her body? Where would she go?

The panic was beggining to set in when she heard a voice far, far away. Something about help. Help was good! Gathering all of her remaining strength, George started screaming again, because at least this way whoever it was might find her faster.

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silent_bob
2009-06-12 12:19 pm UTC (link)

Bob tentatively raised his head to look at his lower half. His shorts were smouldering, and the bits that weren't shorts looked like they should have been. Though, what hit him with accute fascination was the wound to his stomach- it was oozing. That didn't make fucking sense, he couldn't fucking feel anything. It was then that Bob tried to move his legs.

Fuck.

"FUCK!" He yelled. The color drained from his face as Bob realized this was as bad as it looked. Maybe even worse. There was a cold, quiet dread sweeping across his mind. Unceremoniously Bob uncrumpled the post-it and stuck it back to his forehead.

Fuck. What a shitty way to fucking go.

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clawed_one
2009-06-13 03:03 pm UTC (link)

Shit ... that was George's voice.

"Save your air, doll!" He bellowed. "I'm on my way."

And then someone else's voice broke through the sound of the fire and creaking, groaning metal.

Logan cursed vividly, then stopped to listen intently, finally picking up Bob's weakened heartbeat through the mass of chaos. He followed it ... and grimaced when he spotted Bob. He might not be a doctor or qualified as one, but he knew mortal wounds when he saw them. Bob was damn fucking near cut it /half/. That sort of shit a fully equipped hospital would maybe not be able to handle, nevermind a couple of doctors with only a few goodies between them.

"Fuck." He said quietly, then dropped down beside Bob. Couldn't even move the poor bastard. By the time Logan went and got one of the damn backboards from the hospital ... He glanced around, then shook his head. Nothing he could use here. At least, nothing he'd trust to bear the guy's weight.

And from the look of him, he knew he was a goner anyway. Logan took the note on the guy's forehead and gave it a wierd look.

"Bob? That yer name? You hurtin'?" If he was ... well ... Logan could end it, quick. Didn't look like the guy was, though. If he was, he'd be making a hell of a lot more noise.

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silent_bob
2009-06-14 09:03 am UTC (link)

"Yeah I'm fucking Bob," Post-it stayed in place. "I found this fucking post it in a brick of frucking weed. What the fuck, man?" His words were quick and shallow sounding. Bob was ignoring the question as to if he was hurting. He was more petrified to think that he didn't feel anything below his ribs than the fact that he knew for a god damned fact that he should be feeling something.

Something other than dizzy anyway.

The blood at his side was starting to look nearly like a small puddle as his shirt and coat refused to soak in any more than they already had.

"I'd ask for a fucking smoke, but I don't think it would be a good idea." The aroma of gas fumes was pungent in the Not Quick Stop and while the building itself didn't seem ready to burn to the ground yet, he didn't want to pull and L and trash the damn thing - though, the quake had done a really fucking good job of that.

"Dude, go help that chick, alright? and get some of the fucking food and shit out of here." Oh, practical fucking Bob.

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notgivingashit
2009-06-19 07:56 am UTC (link)

Doll? That was Logan. For the first time in ages George was thankful, and would have smiled if not in pain. "Logan, come on!" She urged him on, ready to start kicking and pushing again. No, logic did not apply here anymore. She knew sooner or later she would start trying to get out of there on her own again, even after not succeeding before. "LOGAN!" She yelled.

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clawed_one
2009-06-20 02:57 pm UTC (link)

For half a second, Logan hesitated, then, expression vicious, he looked down at Bob.

"I swear to you. I /ever/ get my hands on the fuckers responsible for this place ... I'll make 'em pay."

For a moment there, he looked like what he had become, for a time ... a conscienceless murdering machine. Then he reined it in, and, with a vicious, vivid curse, He turned and headed for George.

"Save your air, doll. I'm on my way." He yelled again ... and if he sounded like he wanted to kill something ... well ... he did.

*snikt* Claws out as he worked his way through the mess of metal, roofing, and god alone knew what else, hacking his way through obstructions when he had to until he finally spotted George.

"Fuck, doll. Gimmie a minute here. Don't wanna cut the wrong thing." Logan said as he studied the mass of shit on and around George.

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notgivingashit
2009-06-21 04:10 am UTC (link)

The groaning way in which Logan told her to save the air was unfamiliar to George, and while she couldn't say she'd been scared of him, she did what she was told.

Upon hearing the sound of his blades - which she didn't know he had yet - George grew more curious. They sounded like blades, had Logan brought swords with him this time? Where would he stash them?

Finally, she was feeling some air. And seeing something. A familiar face was always good, and if George's face hadn't been half covered in shit, Logan could've seen her smiling thankfully. Instead, she saw his claws, her jaw dropped and her eyes popped. "Holy fucking shit!" She exclaimed, voice muffled by the debris.

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clawed_one
2009-06-21 03:23 pm UTC (link)

Logan snorted. "Yeah, I got claws. Damn good thing, too. C'n you feel your feet, doll? Anything under there poking you hard someplace?" Trying to get a feel for how, exactly, she was trapped under there, and what would be safe to cut to get her out. For the moment, he retracted the claws and started carefully pulling the lighter hunks of crap off of her.

"How the hell you're still alive, doll ... " Logan shook his head, then smirked. "Guess you got a secret or two of your own, huh?"

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notgivingashit
2009-06-22 10:04 am UTC (link)

George would have nodded. Good thing indeed! "Yeah I'm fine. Just really fucking huge shard of glass in my stomach, is all. It went pretty deep when all this shit fell on me, but I'll be alright." Lucky her.

Looking away at his question, George raised her eyebrows in a facial shrug. "Yeah I guess you could say that. Can't die when you're already kind of dead, basically." She would explain further later. Now, she just really wanted to get the hell out of there.

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clawed_one
2009-06-22 06:23 pm UTC (link)

"Glass, gotcha." Logan said as he finished hauling as much of the stuff off as he could move. His eyebrows went through his hairline at te 'basically dead' comment, but he didn't start firing questions. Now was NOT the time.

"Whatever you do, don't squirm." He told her, popping a single claw and starting to (carefully) carve through bits of metal and roofing, keeping a leery eye and ear on the bulk of the ferris wheel and roof that was around and partially over them. It creaked and groaned, but showed no signs of shifting suddenly as he cut away bits, thankfully.

Eventually, he had everything he could see pinning her down cut into manageable chunks, and started carefully lifting them away, one by one. "Yell if something starts digging into you."

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	notgivingashit 2009-06-23 07:36 pm UTC (link)
	George would be happy to explain this later. Later being the key word here. "Okay." She told Logan, as she started hearing the same creaking sound he was hearing. It better not fucking give. "Oh, don't worry, I will!" (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	clawed_one 2009-06-25 03:42 pm UTC (link)
	Logan soon had George uncovered. He grimaced at the hunk of glass in her stomach. "If I pull that out, will it heal over?" He needs to know as he starts checking her over for any damage she hadn't noticed thanks to being squished. "'cause if so, probably best to get it out now. If not, gonna have to leave it there for the docs to take care of." (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	notgivingashit 2009-06-29 06:18 am UTC (link)
	Nodding twice, George wanted to take a deep breath but somehow, it felt like it would be much, much worse a pain if she did so. "Pull it, Logan, otherwise I can't even get the hell out of here. It'll take a little while, but I'll be fine." (Reply to this) (Parent)