It's a trap

[sarabi]

the TRAPPED meme


Your day has just taken a definite turn for the worse. There you were, minding your own business, exploring a cave system or wandering through a structurally unsound building or whatever it is you do for fun (hey, no judgement here), when by sabotage or natural disaster or plain old fashioned bad luck, suddenly it's collapsing all around you.

Tough break.


1. H/C options

1. Claustrophobia. Some people don't do too well with tight spaces, particularly when the way out just disappeared in a cloud of dust and rubble. Hopefully whoever's down there with you can help keep you calm.
2. Injury. Broken bones and blunt force trauma, oh my! Turns out collapsing chunks of ceiling are bad for the health. Who saw that coming.
3. BONUS ROUND: HEAD INJURY. Who am I, where am I, where the hell did this headache come from? Whether they've got a concussion or full-on plot-convenient amnesia, there's one thing to remember - keep them talking, and don't let them fall asleep.
4. BONUS ROUND: HYPOTHERMIA. Because it's not a H/C options section without the classic huddling-for-warmth trope.
5. Mission Failed. Well you may be in one piece, but whatever you were trying to achieve before you got trapped? Doomed. As long as you're going nowhere, might as well dwell on the consequences of your failure.

2. ACTION options

1. We need to go deeper. The way you came in is gone? Well that only leaves you one option. Better keep exploring, and hope there's a back way out everyone just forgot to mention...
2. BONUS ROUND: Shit, too deep. What do you mean you forgot to mark the way you came as you passed? You're lost? Well shit.
3. We're not alone in here... You hear that? Footsteps just a little too out-of-sync with your own, and-- was that a whisper of a breeze or something breathing...?
4. Dig for freedom! Wait for rescue? Pah! We don't need no stinkin' rescue. You can dig your own way out thank-you-very-much.
5. The next round. Whatever just brought everything crashing down round you? Whether it was explosion or earthquake, there's another one coming - you may have survived last time, but better get the hell out before round two or you might not be so lucky.
6. The show must go on. You're in one piece, so whatever you were trying to achieve before you got trapped? You're going to damn well achieve it, come hell or high water.

3. OBLIGATORY SMUT option

• 'cause you crazy kids are gonna stick it in there (pun absolutely intended) one way or another

4. WILDCARD option

• Whatever. I'm a meme, not a cop.

Warning: This meme is likely to deal with severe injury, and may be uncomfortable for people with claustrophobia. Please be a good RPer and respect your thread partners' wishes if they are uncomfortable with something!

Comments

[endof_theline]

[ Yeah that would be awesome! thanks!! ]

[ceptme]

[Cool! Might not be before tomorrow at this point, it's fairly late here, but I can definitely put something together]

[ceptme]

On the face of it the mission's a fairly typical one: there's a civil war raging on Nendara, and one of the rebel factions reached out to the Guardians to ask for help evacuating civilians from the hot zone during a ceasefire. They've been here a couple weeks now, and mostly it's been a lot of running escort duty on convoys, protecting evac points, that kind of thing. It's grim in the way any warzone is, but the rebels are hopeful for the future in a way that's infectious, and the Guardians' presence seems to discourage the government forces from making too much trouble. Overall it's gone fairly smoothly.

That all changes abruptly when out of nowhere they get warning that the government forces are about to break the ceasefire. There's a hasty meeting with the rebel leadership that more or less boils down to: get as many out as you can, prioritise the vulnerable.

The next day passes in a sleepless blur. They move as fast as they can, and much as he hates doing it, Rocket makes the call to split the squad to cover more ground. Adam gets left on convoy duty solo, since he's enough of a powerhouse to deal with any skirmishes all by himself, and he sends Groot and Crys to cover the children's hospital since they're best with kids, and then that leaves him and Bucky to deal with the next priority target: a previously-abandoned office block that's been serving as extremely makeshift accommodation for some of the refugees displaced from harder-hit parts of the city.

They're mostly done and sweeping for stragglers when the rusty wail of the air raid sirens starts up outside. As the sound of them echoes discordantly through the streets, the bone-shaking rumble of the first impact shudders through the frame of the building. Dust spirals down from the ceiling tiles. The next one, a few moments later, is louder and closer; this time it rocks the floor underfoot and sends loose items tumbling. They're already sprinting for the relative safety of the reinforced core stairwell when the third hit blasts the glass out of every window on the south front, and then—

And then there's nothing but darkness.

Consciousness returns piece by piece. He groans and tries to roll over, only to be brought up short by a spike of pain that lances through his skull like a railgun round. Automatically he moves to press his hands to his head, and winces again; yep, that arm sure is broken. When raises his good hand more cautiously to touch his hairline, his fingers come away bloodied.

"Fuck," he croaks, and coughs out concrete dust.

HERE I AM! XD sry for the delay

[endof_theline]

Rocket wasn't kidding when he said it would be like a whirlwind on this planet. At first it seems to be going well, all until it isn't, and then it feels like a scramble to help as many people as possible. Bucky's just thankful they got here in time, and that he was able to offer an extra hand.

The team splitting up seems like the best call. There's a lot of ground to cover, and not enough time for it all. When the air raid sirens go off, it reminds him of long ago- another war he fought, long ago. There's very little time to think after that, both of them running as fast as they can to get the hell out of there. The last thought that enters his head is- thank god they got all the stragglers out in time, before it all goes dark around them.

It might only be a few minutes before he comes to, coughing from the debris of a building entering his lungs. He shifts, letting out a groan when his leg doesn't move with him, stuck under something. It's hard to see, but he reaches out in the dark and feels around, grabbing the metal bar and lifting it up to pull his leg out. Jesus christ. This was bad. He realizes then- Rocket must've gotten trapped down here with him- he wasn't that much further ahead.

"Rocket?" He calls out, just the slightest panic lacing his voice.

No worries :)

[ceptme]

It takes a few sluggish moments longer than it really should for him to recognize the noise echoing through the dark as his name, and longer still to string together anything like a coherent response. "'M here," he calls back. Wherever the fuck here even is. Had they made it to the stairwell? It's hard to tell. As his eyes adjust, he's starting to pick out varying degrees of shadow, but it's not enough to make any meaningful assessment of their situation.

Fuck, his head hurts. He reaches out blindly and finds a handhold to drag himself into a sitting position, a chunk of rubble at his back and his broken arm tucked in protectively against his chest. "You good?" Conscious and coherent is a good sign, so they've already cleared the first bar at least.

[endof_theline]

The signs of life are a goddamn relief, and Bucky pushes himself harder, moving rubble away from himself as much as he can to try and get somewhat upright. The place didn't cave in completely, at least- but it does seem like they're stuck either way. Bucky's first goal is to get to Rocket and see how he's doing, and then they can figure the rest out.

"I'm good. Stay put. I'm coming to you." As if they have anywhere else to go.

It's only when he starts moving when he feels the intense pain at his side. He grabs at it, gritting his teeth, taking a few deep breaths before he pulls his hand back to look at it. Blood. Lots of blood. It's fine, though. He knows it'll be fine.

[ceptme]

He closes his eyes against the throbbing in his skull and listens to the echoing sound of shifting rubble in the darkness. Now he's upright he can feel the blood from the head wound trickling steadily down the side of his face. The world is swimming in a way that would probably be more concerning if it wasn't quite so hard to string two thoughts together, little sparks dancing behind his eyelids and white noise roaring distantly in his ears.

There's no distant thunder of more explosions, at least; if the attack is still ongoing, it's at least moved far enough past them that they're not in the direct line of fire any more. There's a stab of unease at the thought, at not knowing how bad the rest of the team were hit or if they're okay, but...fuck, it's not like he can do anything about it right this second.

"Fuck," he mumbles again, pressing his good hand over his eyes and making an effort to pull himself together. He blinks a few times into the darkness, squinting at nothing, and an unpleasant possibility crawls like meltwater down his spine. "...'s, uh—" He stumbles slightly over the words and has to start again. "—it is dark, right? That's not just me?"