capthepoint | [Closed Thread] Malfunction

[Closed Thread] Malfunction

Who: Sid and Cliff.
What: Fixing the water malfunction.
When: November 8th, 12:46 PM.
Where: Around the base. Starts in RED base, though.

A somewhat wet Cliff was going straight toward the RED Engineer's room, toolbox in hand and trying not to get anything important soaked. He had already been down to where the water malfunction was, and it was getting kind of flooded down there--high time he got Sid and went to fix it. Cliff looked back over his shoulder and frowned at the wet bootprints being left in his wake, making a mental note to come back and clean that up if it hadn't dried already when they were done.

Now that he was at Sid's door, he lightly rapped his knuckles on the wood. "Hey, Sid! That water thing's gotten a bit worse. 'S prolly a good idea if'n we go fix it." Wait. What if he was busy with something? Just barging in like this would be rude. "--uh, if y'ain't already occupied, that is."

...hopefully Sid was in there. Cliff hadn't bothered to check, and he didn't feel like being the idiot Engineer today.

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Sid's heart leapt into his mouth at the screech, and he darted forward only to be cut off as the ruins of the tank fell at his feet. The clang and splash was deafening, his cursing more so. "Shit! Cliff, you fuckin' stupid -- you okay?!"

He waded closer to the tank, forgetting his own cautionary words, and a frightening thought lodged itself into his mind -- respawn was off, wasn't it? Was -- oh, shit. "Dammit. Cliff, I swear to Christ --"

Cliff made a rather pained noise and let his head fall back in the water, trying not to notice the red seeping out from under the tank. Don't look over there. Anything but that. He tried moving the fingers on his right hand and discovered that they weren't even responding, which didn't make him feel any better. Cliff's heart was going at a mile a minute, and he tried getting out from under the tank, only to be stopped by a sudden spike of pain. He yelped at that and only bit down harder, glancing over at Sid as he came closer. He was pretty sure that if he tried saying anything, he was going to start screaming, and that wouldn't help matters any.

Well, at least he was alive, but that didn't sound too good. "You all right? Shit, you clumsy goddamn --" Oh, right, flashlight. He fumbled numbly with the beam, shivering when the light revealed blood seeping through the murky water and Cliff's face contorted in pain. "Aw, shit."

Already soaked, he waded through the water to Cliff's side, crouching down. Most of Cliff seemed to have cleared the falling wreckage, but a metal flange had neatly crushed his right arm, severing bone and tendon. A few months ago, Sid's stomach would have turned at the sight; even desensitized as he was, it was no small shock. "Fuck -- shit, that thing got you good, ain't it?"

He rummaged in his pocket reflexively, pulling out his PDA and typing in the code for a dispenser without thinking, then cursed and reached in Cliff's belt pocket for the BLU's PDA, remembering the team difference. "You jus' sit tight, all right, buddy? Gonna be fine. Shit, this ain't nothin'. Here --" He set down the BLU dispenser, letting the moving parts twist themselves into place. "You jus' set tight, all right? Let that thing do the trick for ya, 'n I'll go get help. Gonna be feelin' good in no time."

Cliff just nodded and stared up at the ceiling, not really feeling like telling Sid he wasn't going anywhere in the first place. When the Dispenser got up after what seemed like an eternity, the healing beam made him feel somewhat better, but not by much. The water was making this even more uncomfortable, even though Cliff wasn't sure that was even legitimately possible. He didn't think he'd be 'feeling better in no time', as Sid put it, considering he was currently partially under an exploded tank and most certainly losing that hand. He really hoped Sid would be back with that help pretty damn quick.

Sid clambered through the waterlogged room as quickly as he could. In no time, he was flying up the staircase, taking steps two and three at a time as though trying to rival Dan's best sprinting record. Droplets of water spattered in his wake. Would he surface in BLU or RED base? He had no idea. No time to worry about that anyhow.

"Medic!" he yelled in between breathless gasps, flinging the door open wide and stumbling into an ill-lit hallway.

Generally, after hours, you didn't hear anyone screaming 'Medic' like that. It was something reserved for the battlefield, but even outside of those hours, the call still made him react the same. Everything was dropped and he rushed to respond to the sound, grabbing his to-go kit on the way out the ward and almost colliding with the caller.

"Sid?! Sid vhat's wrong?!" Clearly something was terribly, terribly wrong. He was wet, soaking from the ankles down and panting as if he'd run a mile. "Vhere?" It didn't matter what had caused it to who, all that mattered what that the 'who' made it until next respawn at the very least.

To see Mauritz responding to his call for Medic was disorientating, but Sid paid it no mind. "S'Cliff," he managed, leaning one arm against the wall. "'N the cellar. He's hurt bad. Got a dispenser up, but -- here, jus' c'mon --" He turned and headed back through the door, blitzing down the stairs and hoping that Mauritz would follow in his wake.

The German waste no more breath asking questions, eager to get to Cliff's aid as soon as possible. He kept pace with the Engineer easily, being almost close to Scout speed after all, and kept the bag close, thankful he always had something sitting nearby just in case. It was a habit left over from the old days, one he didn't mind keeping.

In no time, Sid had flung open the door to the cellar, sloshing into the flooded room and lending a hand to Mauritz as he followed behind. "He got hisself trapped back there," he said, pointing. "Tank went off-balance 'n pinned his arm. It ain't pretty," he added as a warning, noticing Mauritz's face grow pale -- but maybe it was just the light.

Pulling out his flashlight, he flicked it on and led the German to the trail of Dispenser vapor that marked where Cliff lay. The flooding had continued since he'd left, but fortunately Cliff's bulk cleared the waterline. His breathing was shallow, and the water around him had grown murky with blood. He knelt down again, feeling it seep into the knees of his overalls.

"Doc's here, Cliff. You jus' hold tight. How you doin'?" The dispenser had helped slow the bleeding, he noted with some satisfaction, but the minute shivers rippling the water around him probably weren't a good sign. He glanced at Mauritz, brow furrowed in concern.

It wasn't a trick of the light at all, the BLU Medic wasn't exactly used to dealing with underwater injuries. He took one look at Cliff and realised they had to get him out of the water and out from under that tank before he lost much more blood to the surrounding water. He couldn't do a thing while he was still pinned and if he wanted even a chance to save that hand, then they had to act now.

"Ve need to get zat tank up, quickly. I'll need yoah help. Cliff, you must stay avake und do not clos yoah eyes. Talk to us vhile ve lift it."

"Don' feel too good." Sid had been much faster than he had thought, bringing help already. "H--howdy, Doc." Cliff hadn't known that Mauritz was back, and this was certainly not the way he wanted to welcome the Medic back. He gave a forced grin before looking over at where the tank was, idly noting that he was pretty much entirely numb now. Keeping his eyes open was easier said than done, though, but he tried his best. "How bad's it look, Doc?" Cliff wasn't sure he wanted to know, but it was at least something. Better than just lying there bleeding, anyway.

Oh? Lifting up the tank, were they? Cliff braced himself somewhat and waited, looking up at them slightly expectantly.

Sid got to his feet and took his place at the top of the tank, hating the little tremble in Cliff's voice. At least in battle suffering was usually briefer than this. After pulling on his left glove and fitting his hands into place below the heavy tank, he glanced at the doctor, waiting for his cue.

Mauritz took up his position by the tank and looked to Cliff. "You ah going to heff to try und lean back to get yoah hand out, try not to damage it any moah zan it already has been."

He exhaled once and counted down from three, before heaving at the damaged tank.

With Mauritz's help, Sid managed on the final count to straighten his legs, arms shaking under the weight of the twisted metal as he lifted it free. "Y'got it?" he gasped, trying to peer around the bulk of the structure without impaling himself or dropping it in the process.

Cliff did as he was told, moving a bit fast so as not to make them hold up the tank for very long. He wasn't even going to look over there and see what kind of damage the tank had done--frankly, he didn't want to know. When the tank was lifted, there was a momentary increase in the bleeding, but the Dispenser cut down on that again after another second. Cliff wasn't particularly sure what to do next (or what was even seriously going on), and he propped himself up against the Dispenser. Doc probably knew what to do; at least, he hoped he did. That was a pretty weird color for somebody who had done this before to be. Had Maur even--no, there was no use questioning the Medic's ability now. Cliff was gonna find out soon enough.

Once Cliff was safely out the way, they lowered the tank and despite the fear running through Mauritz's mind that he wouldn't be able to fix this, couldn't possibly fix this, he knelt in the water beside Cliff and pulled the bag towards him.

"Can you feel anyzing? Anyzing at all in yoah hand? I need to know." He wasn't even sure how he was going to fix this without the Medigun...it was dangerous to even attempt that thing outside battle but this situation seemed to scream for it.

"N-nope. That ain't a good thing." Cliff didn't really phrase it as a question--he already knew the answer to it. He gulped and stared over at the wall, tempted to just close his eyes and fall asleep. Hadn't Doc said not to do that? It probably wouldn't help, and Cliff really didn't want to make things any worse. He tried moving his fingers again, wondering if perhaps they were okay enough to move and he simply couldn't feel them. He glanced down at his hand, immediately regretting the decision and turning his gaze away within a second. He took a slightly shaky breath and resigned himself to watching Mauritz.

http://community.livejournal.com/capthepoint/100516.html?thread=1445028#t1445028
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[Closed Thread] Malfunction

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FIX IT PLZ

Re: FIX IT PLZ

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