drymonster: (are there... any bones... sticking out..)

[personal profile] drymonster 2024-03-07 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
[ his wig is on very securely, actually; he's not enough of an amateur to wear a wig to an action scene without plenty of hairpins and a strip of lacefront tape to keep it in place. unfortunately this actually works against him in this situation, because when it snags and tangles on the thorns and gets pulled off, it yanks his own hair and scalp hard, twisting his neck at a painful angle and ripping out some strands that were stuck to the tape at his hairline.

the upside is that he's already focused enough on that pain that he doesn't feel it at full force when his ankle bone snaps a second later. again, small fucking blessings.

as for the piece of metal...well, that figures. but fine, then, he's just going to use this stupid piece of shit for something else if it won't help him the way he hoped. his hand is already cut up and bloody, but he uses all his strength to grip onto the metal and swing it at the vine, aiming to both slice at it with its sharp edges and beat it into submission if he can.

after how much these stupid plants and the shitty people behind all of this have already taken, he has no intention of giving them a damn thing more if he can help it. ]
drymonster: (it's about over unless you shut up)

[personal profile] drymonster 2024-03-07 03:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ he's still riding high on that anger and desperation when he hears that instruction fromβ€” somewhere, and his instinctive reaction to it isβ€” ]

The hell?! I'm fucking dying here and you're going to lecture me on my coughing manners?!!

[ though it's probably barely intelligible when he's wheezing and coughing between every word... especially since he does, in fact, cover his mouth with the hand that isn't still gripping onto the piece of metal, tasting blood and glass as he does so.

...

oh. right. he was supposed to put on his helmet or something, wasn't he?

he holds his breath as he takes his hand off his mouth again and fumbles around for the button... though he wonders if maybe it's too late for that to make a difference at this point when he's probably got 8000 times the recommended amount of pollen in his lungs by now. ]
drymonster: (the one i loaned to you a YEAR ago)

[personal profile] drymonster 2024-03-07 04:05 pm (UTC)(link)
[ the wig falls off of the vine and lands on top of his helmet.

at least there's no new pollen flying into his eyes now so he can start to cry out what's already in there. it's an improvement. he grips his metal piece as the vines whip out toward him.

]
drymonster: (i am not taking calls right now)

[personal profile] drymonster 2024-03-07 04:25 pm (UTC)(link)
[ !!!


...




wait, NO ONE SAW THAT? THROWS DOWN HIS METAL PIECE


then hurriedly picks it back up, that thing is his datz office chair now and it's staying with him until he dies, which he REFUSES TO LET HAPPEN ON THIS SHIT PLANET.

that said, he has no idea how he's supposed to accomplish that, and he's really bitter right now that the tools he brought with him were a fucking screwdriver and a flashlight. he doesn't know if his earpiece is even working at this point, but he's going to shout into it between coughs anyway as he tries to (fastly) limp away. ]


WHERE! IS! THE SHIP!!!!
drymonster: (but cable is important)

[personal profile] drymonster 2024-03-07 05:07 pm (UTC)(link)
YEAH, AREN'T WE ALL!!

[ he doesn't get around to answering the question before the energy blast hits, though it hardly matters, since his answer would have been that he didn't know where the hell any of them were. he gets smacked by that vine and goes down, and curses under his breath.

and then he hears that other voice, much too familiar and casual for this crazy situation, and freezes. ]


...Dad?

[ he tentatively turns his head to look around, hoping this really is just another voice that's all in his head. something his subconscious is using to encourage him to pull himself up.

he doesn't want to watch another member of his family meet their end in this stupid, terrible place. he doesn't want to be the only thing mom has. ]
drymonster: (aw those poor kids)

[personal profile] drymonster 2024-03-07 06:07 pm (UTC)(link)
[ ah. his eyes are full of tears already but they just spill over completely at this, stinging harshly as they sink into the bloody cuts and scrapes that cover his face. with a sniff, he nods to himself, and makes it onto his feet. (along with his chunk of metal, just in case.)

he can still do this. mom and dad are still there. he has to get home for them.

so, he runs and doesn't look back. ]
drymonster: (get outta here)

[personal profile] drymonster 2024-03-07 06:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[ yeah... yeah. he's got this. it's fine.

he finally comes to a stop a short distance behind... adrastea, apparently; and, taking their lack of a helmet to mean they don't need them anymore, he takes his off too. (the wig slides off, and he picks it up and... puts it back on his head in a bit of a daze, his own hair very much visible under it now that he's lost his wig cap.)

his vision is still blurry and he's squinting to see what's going on up ahead. ah... they found kazuki? that's good.

he coughs and waves weakly. ]


I'm here...