First Train In: Busted
Content Warnings: Explicit leg injury, temporary loss of powers, debris, mild burns.

(The worst part wasn't how his mind felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton and sawdust. The worst part wasn't even the piece of metal lodged in the meat of his thigh. His other leg was partially trapped under some train seats that had flipped over. He didn't think that leg was broken, but he didn't want to think too hard about it either.

The worst part was that he should have been able to avoid all of this without a problem. But as soon as shit hit the fan, he found himself jogging at a pitiful pace and before long, he became a train kebab. The pain was a bitch, no lie there, but why the hell hadn't he been able to take off? He had his teeth grit, hands latched around his thigh as if it might actually help with the pain. It didn't.

At least he had been wearing his goggles when everything happened. Besides a few cuts on his face, his eyes were fine and nothing else on his body seemed too banged up. Just...his legs. The only part of his body that mattered.)

Oh, god damn it. (Huffing, he rests his head back.) This is- so lame. So lame. Holy shi-

(Deep breaths, Peter. He sucks in a slow breath between his teeth before exhaling. He needed help. As much as he hated to admit it...He needed help.)

Hey- uh? Hello? Anyone around? No rush or anything, but I could uh- use a hand. Or two.

First Train In: Helping Out
Content Warnings: Leg injury, whatever injuries he may come across, debris.

(As miserable as his injury was, having it wrapped up and set did wonders. Hobbling around using a piece of wood was a bit of a hit to his dignity as someone who could normally travel in the blink of an eye, but it was better than not being able to walk at all. He'd heal up and when he did...

Well, nothing would happen. It's not like he could seek revenge on a fucking train. For now, he was just trying to do what the losers at Xavier's School would do: help. Poorly. He uses his makeshift crutch to push over pieces of debris with all the enthusiasm of a rock.)

Anyone around? Anyone partially around?

(God, he had already seen some gruesome corpses along the way. He stomps his crutch impatiently and uselessly at a pile of burnt seats. It was torture having to move this s l o w.)

Goddamn it. (He's going to just...take his aggression out on these poor seats. He can go back to looking for survivors in a second.)

Two Truths, One Lie
username: peteroff

man this stupid game never ends well
okay okay

1. yes my hair is naturally silver
2. i stole from the pentagon and it was way too easy. 5/10 would do again
3. i never knew my mom she was a loser who ditched when me and my sisters were kids