Firo Prochainezo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
foundafamily) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thearena2015-02-06 10:35 pm
foundafamily) wrote in thearena2015-02-06 10:35 pm
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Who| Captain Jack Sparrow and Firo
What| Fleeing from the fire!
Where| The pine forest and onward
When| Thursday night during the storm
Warnings/Notes| None right now, will update as needed!
Where do you go to be safe during a thunderstorm? For Firo, the answer’s always been “inside,” but that option, obviously, is not on the list here. With the choice of wandering out in the open or getting some shelter beneath the trees (or forest of lightning rods, however you care to look at it), he opts for the latter.
When a bolt of lightning splits the sky even more loudly than those before it, he flinches but doesn’t think much of it.
Until, under the smell of the rain and mud, comes the smell of smoke.
“…Ah, shit, that can’t be—" He can’t be that unlucky, right? Through the trees and the darkness, he can’t see anything back where the smell is coming from yet, except for a faint glow of light that wasn’t there before. He can’t be absolutely certain what’s happened, but that glimpse is enough for him.
Throwing stealth to the wind, he breaks out into a sprint. Dodging the trees in the darkness is hard enough, so he’s not even accounting for what or who else might be lurking out there.
What| Fleeing from the fire!
Where| The pine forest and onward
When| Thursday night during the storm
Warnings/Notes| None right now, will update as needed!
Where do you go to be safe during a thunderstorm? For Firo, the answer’s always been “inside,” but that option, obviously, is not on the list here. With the choice of wandering out in the open or getting some shelter beneath the trees (or forest of lightning rods, however you care to look at it), he opts for the latter.
When a bolt of lightning splits the sky even more loudly than those before it, he flinches but doesn’t think much of it.
Until, under the smell of the rain and mud, comes the smell of smoke.
“…Ah, shit, that can’t be—" He can’t be that unlucky, right? Through the trees and the darkness, he can’t see anything back where the smell is coming from yet, except for a faint glow of light that wasn’t there before. He can’t be absolutely certain what’s happened, but that glimpse is enough for him.
Throwing stealth to the wind, he breaks out into a sprint. Dodging the trees in the darkness is hard enough, so he’s not even accounting for what or who else might be lurking out there.
sorry for the wait!
Once the storm had picked up, the pirate had hunkered down in his parka against a tall pine tree and tried to wait it out. The constant sense of malaise that had plagued him since the first week of the Arena had made it difficult to sleep most nights -- in addition, of course, to the constant paranoia of someone sneaking up on him -- and so even as the drizzle picked up into steady shower and low thunder rumbled overhead, Jack, exhausted, had passed out and happily stayed that way for a few blissful hours.
It's the acrid aroma of smoke that finally rouses him awake. He mumbles something incoherent, initially, clutching his last vodka bottle closer to his chest, then groggily opens both eyes. It's dark, night time, but there's a thick, distinct haze that has wound its way around the trunks of the trees that crowd around him. His eyes narrow, thoughts stumbling to catch up with his senses, when it all clicks into place.
Fire. Oh.
Fire.
"Bugger! Bugger bugger bugger!" The curses are louder than he'd would've like, but Jack flails upwards to his feet and slams his back against the tree that he'd been sleeping against, still clinging to the nearly empty bottle in his hands. With each second that passes by the smoke thickens around him, faintly illuminated by the soft orange-yellow of the encroaching fire. His upper lip twitches in a grimace, then Jack decides it's about time to run.
... Except he gets only a couple steps before another body slams full-on into his and knocks him off his feet -- and the bottle of vodka from his hand.
No need to apologize! :)
He goes down like a sack of potatoes.
His first thought is to be indignant that anyone would have their priorities mixed up enough to attack him when there's a damn fire bearing down on them. Before he even lifts his face out of the dirt and sticks he's already protesting.
"Damn it! What the hell's--" He flips on his stomach to push himself up onto his feet. If this is an attack, he's not going down easy. Mid-motion, he pauses, having finally glimpsed who the other person is.
Immediately, the hostility fades from his voice. "...Jack?" In the stress of the situation, he forgets the title. No offense, but it's pretty low on his priority list.
He shoves himself the rest of the way up; if Jack's still down, he'll offer him a hand. "You runnin' from the same thing I am?"
<3
"Devil burn ye pewling chunk of rotted fish innards -- " Firo's familiar voice cuts through his hoarse cursing and the pirate blinks once, then squints at him. Recognition hits him, and Jack takes the offered hand. He uses it to pull himself to his feet, unsteady, then slowly tucks away the knife.
"Firo, lad!" It's good to see that he hadn't died yet, from the look on Jack's face. "Aye! -- the fire -- " But that expression immediately drops when the pirate realizes the vodka is gone from his hand. His gaze snaps away from Firo and towards the ground, searching.
"Nononono, where is it, where is it." Yep, not the best priorities.
<3!
He watches, perplexed as Jack hunts for... whatever it is he's talking about. Firo didn't even notice the bottle in their crash and it's not the kind of thing he'd think to look for now. To help look or scram... Yeah, okay, the latter is definitely the best option.
He reaches to try and grab Jack's arm and yank him away. "Where's what? The fire? It's back the other way, but it ain't gonna be there for long!"
Whatever he lost, it can't be worth it, right? Firo can remember what it feels like to be on fire, thanks to Szilard, and it's not fun.
no subject
Firo tugs at him, but Jack pulls himself away to continue his search. The smoke is making visibility increasingly an issue, but Jack still seems more fixated on blundering around the nearby area, squinting eyes to the ground, than escaping from the approaching flame.
He's had his own horrible encounters with fire in the past -- the wretched smell of all this burning wood itself was enough to hate -- but this took precedence.
"Help me find it!"
no subject
And he highly doubts it would be water anyway.
Jack doesn't seem like he'll be moved and Firo really doesn't want to burn to death... But, screw it, he likes this guy and he can't leave without him. Inside his head, he's cursing at his own idiocy, but he joins Jack in circling the vicinity of their fall. "Damn it, damn it, if we don't find it in 10 seconds, I swear--"
There's a clink sound--almost inaudible over the rest of the noise--as Firo's foot hits something solid. ...And cylindrical, as suggested by the way it rolls away from the impact.
Crap. "I, uh--" He's cut off by a fit of coughing. "It's somewhere right here, I think!"
no subject
The bump from Firo had rolled the bottle a couple inches away, but Jack catches sight of it and dives forward to snatch it from the ground, coughing roughly in the meanwhile. Back on his feet in the next instant, his mouth cracks into a short smile at the victory.
And then oh, right. Smoke. Fire.
"Got it! Time to make haste, mate, let's go!" With the bottle secured on his person, Jack breaks into a run with Firo hopefully close behind.
no subject
For a moment, he's just glad they're moving. They've lost some of their lead on the fire, but it's not on top of them yet. He won't risk looking back to determine how much of a lead they have.
Before, his only intent was to run in the opposite direction from the flames, but now he wonders if there's a better way to do it. He can at least choke out the question between breaths. "You know if this is the fastest way outta the trees?"
He's hoping to... well, not to god, but to something that Jack knows more about this stuff than he does.
no subject
That should count for something, right?
Except that the thick smoke has made visibility and finding landmarks near impossible. And while Jack has started to feel the immense heat from the fire, it's also hard to pinpoint where exactly the source of it is, or how far away from it they are. So the direction that the pirate picks happens to be more random than anywhere near calculated.
"Erm -- this way!" He heads in a slight leftwards curve, dodging trees in the process -- and is abruptly cut off when a tree, its top part completely on fire, slams in the middle of his path. He skids to a stop the best that he can, stumbling, one arm held out to try and stop Firo as well.
no subject
Well. That's something he's never seen before.
He puts on the brakes just in time to keep from running into Jack. "Shit!" Frantic again, he whips his head around wildly trying to see a clear path out. But there's so much damn smoke...
He tries to blink his eyes clear and chokes out, "Other way?"
no subject
And Jack abruptly takes off in another direction, the back of his hand covered over his mouth as he gets into a violent coughing fit and the other hand in front of him trying, futilely, to frantically clear away the smoke from his face.
Of all things to die from in the Arena, this better not be it.
no subject
"We just gotta--" he breaks off for a rasping breath, "--get outta the trees, right? Then we're good?"
Not that he even knows where the trees end.
no subject
It's by some manner of miracle that, eventually, the smoke begins to thin and the heat that presses harshly at their backs lessens.
A few minutes later, the forest line gives way to a open field.
Jack continues to flee for a little bit out of danger -- both arms flailing -- then, in the midst of his panic and coupled with the realization that they've actually made it -- stumbles a couple steps and nearly trips over his own feet. Once he's stable, Jack leans forward, hands on his knees, coughing and trying to catch his breath. Eventually, he'll look over to see where Firo had ended up.
"You alright mate?"
no subject
When he's finished, he straightens up and nods at Jack. "Never better."
He rubs his eyes before looking back at the trees once again. It's hard to keep his eyes off of it, even if the thought of how close they came to burning up isn't pleasant at all.
"...I'll be honest, I wasn't--" he clears his throat again, trying to cough away the smokey feeling in his lungs, "--completely sure we were gonna make it outta there."
no subject
"No use in dwelling on it, lad. We did, and that's all that matters, eh?"
Jack slides out the bottle from where he's stashed it earlier, popping off the top. And now Firo will get a peek at what had been so important that it had nearly gotten them both killed -- a half-drunk bottle of vodka, one that the pirate starts to chug.
no subject
At first, he almost doesn't see anything weird about Jack's bottle. Yep, after an experience like that, a guy sure needs a drink. After a moment of watching, though, he pieces it together.
His shoulders slump and he knows he should be irritated, but he's more just puzzled and tired. "...You're kiddin' me. We almost got fried for that? It's not even full."
Firo's done some pretty stupid things for booze in the past, but they didn't come close to this.
no subject
"Didn't matter whether it were full or not." He glances over to Firo, a half-smile tugging on his mouth. It hadn't been full, but it was as good -- and important -- as food to the pirate, in his mind. "And key word is almost, aye? We're still alive, ain't we?"