[ the pain in Reno's side only grows the more he moves. it's hard to draw a full breath when doing so makes his lungs expand against the broken place, sending a jolt of white-hot agony up to his shoulder and down his arm; he moves slowly, as a result, careful as he picks his way through flaming rubble and torn-up grass and broken bits of concrete sidewalk. it's only when he's made his way a little distance from the train and the smoke has cleared slightly that he looks up to try and get his bearings, some sense of where he is.
nowhere familiar. on instinct he recognizes it as a school, although Reno himself has never been. the kind of places that produces Archons, he thinks, and then wonders what an Archon is. the locale is certainly not familiar, but the large stone building Reno had earlier identified seems closer now, and so he limps in that direction, slowly, steadily.
he's so focused on the pain and putting one foot in front of the other that it takes him far too long to realize there's someone else on the path with him. there's a crunch of a footstep behind him, boot on stone, and Reno whips around so fast his ribs scream—his e-mag crackles to life in his hand, blessedly, and he bites his tongue to muffle the way he groans at the ache—
but he recognizes this newcomer, this flicker of gold and white. like a phoenix from the ashes, a figure resolves through the wavering smoke and the name under the surface of Reno's subconscious resolves into— ]
Thancred, [ he gasps, and then coughs, and then chokes on another muffled groan of pain. ] Thancred—fuck—are you okay? Are you hurt?
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nowhere familiar. on instinct he recognizes it as a school, although Reno himself has never been. the kind of places that produces Archons, he thinks, and then wonders what an Archon is. the locale is certainly not familiar, but the large stone building Reno had earlier identified seems closer now, and so he limps in that direction, slowly, steadily.
he's so focused on the pain and putting one foot in front of the other that it takes him far too long to realize there's someone else on the path with him. there's a crunch of a footstep behind him, boot on stone, and Reno whips around so fast his ribs scream—his e-mag crackles to life in his hand, blessedly, and he bites his tongue to muffle the way he groans at the ache—
but he recognizes this newcomer, this flicker of gold and white. like a phoenix from the ashes, a figure resolves through the wavering smoke and the name under the surface of Reno's subconscious resolves into— ]
Thancred, [ he gasps, and then coughs, and then chokes on another muffled groan of pain. ] Thancred—fuck—are you okay? Are you hurt?