bakerstreet | ( THE MINOR INJURY MEME )

You or your meme partner has been hurt, but don't worry! This time around it's not that bad. You can still limp your way out of this mess.

INJURIES.
1. Sprain/strain. How did you screw up walking?
2. Broken bones. Simple fractures still hurt.
3. Cuts. Hopefully one of you has a sewing kit.
4. Burns. Location, location, location. Let's pray this one isn't on your ass.
5. Concussion. No, they're most likely not holding up fifteen fingers.
6. Other. I'm not a doctor.

HOW'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Stupidity. You did this to yourself.
2. Accident. Is an unintentional attack still an attack?
3. Attack. Don't lie, you deserved it.
4. Other. It's probably still your own fault.

WHERE'D IT HAPPEN.
1. Home. Did you remember to invest in a first aid kit?
2. School/Work. This should be excellent for getting you out of doing stuff!
3. Outdoors. Predators like the smell of blood. Clean up asap.
4. In the water. Hopefully there aren't any sharks!
5. Other. Like a hospital. That'd be handy.

last seen here.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Jim was dazed from more than just the blow to his head by the time the sound of weapons firing ended.

They were dead. They were all dead. Just a few minutes ago they'd been trying to resolve Spock and Uhura's relationship issues and now they were both lying dead on a planet where none of them should have been in the first place. He managed to get to his feet and limp towards where he thought he'd seen Spock fall.

He wasn't event sure which side had won, but it wasn't his and that seemed much less important right now.]

( Even in the aftermath of a crossfire that took an express ride straight to hell in the last minute of its climax, Khan was still on his feet, armed with a rifle pried from what he surmises used to be part of the crew aboard the ship hovering above Qo'noS. All in all a smooth-enough little skirmish, save for the split-second distraction that led to the bite of a bat'leth in the side - it was stitching itself together already, Khan could feel it, but in the light the open wound looked no less ghastly, a wide slice that stretched all around one side of his rib, exposing the sickly white hint of bone through holes in his ruined coat.

Perhaps, in Kirk's disorientation, he didn't think to conceal his movements, his location - which, honestly, worked out perfectly in the Augment's favour. Tracking the man amongst the ruins was hardly a challenge when his mark had footfalls like thunder, and soon enough Kirk would've heard the crescendo of a whine that could only signal the charge of a phaser rifle, leveled perfectly with his head. )

The torpedoes. [ It comes out as a hiss; the wound is nowhere near debilitating, but it's rather an annoyance. ] How many are there?

[The sound is from a Starfleet weapon and Jim has an irrational moment of hope before he turns his head and reality rears its ugly head. He feels sick and oddly numb inside, but he still sees the gaping wound and the hint of bone and wonders how the hell John Harrison is running around like that, much less using both arms.

He wants to tackle the man, but he's left his phaser pistol somewhere and he's having enough trouble moving. Jim isn't completely suicidal.]

More than enough to kill both of us.

[It's a weird thing to open with, considering everything else that's going on. Who the hell cares? Right now, Jim doesn't. All he cares about is finding Spock and the rest of his fallen crew.]

I would imagine so, considering that just one would certainly suffice well enough for that.

[ Kirk's reply is a nigh-inaudible grunt under his breath as Khan hefts the weapon in his hands a little higher - the cells are rebuilding, renewing, but even at its accelerated rate the movement does little to aid in the process, and though his wound is surely closing, millimetre by agonizingly slow millimetre, the damage appears to remain as gruesome as it initially seemed to the naked eye. ]

Now, then - let's try this again: how many?

( THE MINOR INJURY MEME )

sorry for the delay, busy week

np! busy here too

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