spiders, in, SPAAAAAACE

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CHARACTERS: peter parker & [ insert character here ]
LOCATION: just round the ship
DATE: start of september-ish
CONTENT: tdm continuations
WARNINGS: spiders

see comments for starters. if you'd like to plot something out in advance of a mission, hit me up via pm or meowed!

Comments

tall and hurt guy we better fix you up

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( continued from HERE! )

( wow, how dare you, mr. bloody and cranky. Peter is at least okay with cybernetics, it's just that this is a far shake from what he's used to. he's at a 2010ish tech level, not scifi spaceship level. he thinks having more obvious buttons would be a benefit here, just in a user friendly sort of way. unless this robot is programmed remotely? in which case, holding it probably isn't helping at all.

so Peter cautiously puts it down, as close to where he picked it up as possible. the alarm keeps going about three more seconds as Peter heads to the injured guy instead. then some diagnostic internally decides it is close enough to the assigned programming that it can just start it up again. the assigned programing being vacuuming, by the sounds of it. )

Why would you put a face on a roomba??? ( Peter whispers desperately, and not entirely to his company, before he focuses on the guy instead. ) I'm not sure he's bound to be much help, but every sci-fi show I've ever seen tells me there's gotta be a med bay somewhere. Here, I can help you up.

( apparently to spite Peter for assuming its inadequate programing, the little robot has changed its face display to an arrow pointing further down the hall. it doesn't stop to alert them of the change, though, it has a job to do. this hall really needs cleaning! )

[kovach]

[ once the robot is set back down and given ample space, revealing itself to be intended mostly for cleaning duties, kovacs probably just becomes a bit more annoyed with it now than when it was beating obnoxiously, mostly over the fact that it'd been such a waste of energy to deal with considering his other priorities.

but even with that out of the way, there's still the problem of ... whoever this guy happens to be, because the truth is that kovacs will always prefer to just deal with an issue himself instead of being catered, at least by another person. ]

I can stand just fin— ah, fuck. [ well, as he tries to do just that, lifting himself off his ass to try putting his strength on his feet to rise again, he feels the added pressure from the movement of his abdomen, blood soaking up his shirt a little more than before.

he's not even looking at the robot's changed display, too busy pouting at his own predicament. ] ... Yeah, alright.

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( look, dude. he gets it. lone wolf, run the streets solo, all that. Spider-Man isn't known for duo queuing. and the few times he's tried, people are generally dead after. makes it a lot harder to buddy up for tasks, when he's used to just running into the thick of it with only himself to worry about.

still, helping people isn't quite the same, right? sometimes everyone needs a helping hand. and there's probably a heartfelt message, here, that trying to stubbornly trying to persist completely alone just hurts you more in the end, as the guy tries and fails to stand and probably just hurts himself worse. Peter is not open to critique on trying to function independently right now, though he is open to dragging this guy to the medbay because oh wow that is a lot of blood. )

Okay. I've got you. ( Peter crouches to sling the guy's arm over his shoulder, and his arm around Kovac's back. he could just pick the guy up but that'd be pretty sus, wouldn't it. so, reasonable amounts of support to get him standing and then he'll take as much weight as he needs to once the guy is standing. ) On 3? 1, 2, 3 — ( it doesn't matter how little Kovacs can help himself in standing, Peter hauls him up easily anyway. don't worry about it, maybe the Kovacs is right and he doesn't need that much help! what a relief! ) What happened to you? Is that a gunshot wound?

( Peter doesn't entirely know where they're going, but he decides to keep moving forward and hope for some kind of sign as to where they need to get. )

[kovach]

[ if this were hours ago — or however long it's been between the fight at the arena and showing up — then peter could likely have to be using all his strength to get kovacs up, considering the larger men would have lacked all capabilities of moving at all, nearly paralyzed to unconsciousness. luckily enough, his limbs are somewhat in working order, grunting as the aid of putting his arm around peter's back allows him a boost for picking himself up on his feet.

however much of his own strength he uses, he honestly can't tell, not while he's feeling like shit. ]

Stab wound. [ he peers down to the most significant one at his belly, jabbed deep by the blade, whereas the other wounds on his arms and legs remain shallow slashes, easy enough to heal. ] Laced with Reaper. Damn near paralyzed me but I guess it wore off.

[ lucky for him. ]

Guess I could still bleed out. That'd be fun.

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No no, that would not be fun. ( Peter says it out loud, like denying the idea is enough to stop it from happening. he mildly wonders if the guy is close enough to death that webbing his wound shut would be worth the questions about why he has webshooters on both wrists. what are the chances Peter could think of a good reason for that one? absolutely 0. so better avoid it if he can.

the small cleaning friend rolls past them, arrow still projecting down the hall, as it turns on the scrubbers and immediately tackles the blood on the floor without a care in the world. Peter spares it only one last mildly astounded glance and then dedicates his attention to dragging his company to wherever can do something about the definitely still bleeding stab wound. )

I'd ask why you got stabbed by something laced with a paralytic but that's probably the sort of question people won't answer, so I guess I won't. ( Peter also would not want to explain why he had a stab wound, so, he gets it. Kovacs gets off easy on this one. ) I will say you seem weirdly chipper about it, though.

[kovach]

Yeah, relax, kid. [ it's almost spoken with boredom, like it's actually ridiculous for anyone to get so uptight about the situation, despite the very fact that it's plenty obvious for anyone to see this as plenty serious. of course, in kovacs' eyes, it's more normal than a panic scenario.

he gives the little robot only vague attention, but he does at least manage to muster enough energy to move his own feet, rather than let himself be dragged. he's not that useless despite his own slouching, furthered by the fact that he's walking at a slant with his arm over his new companion's shoulder. ]

Just pissed off some people. Sliced the guy's head off, so he wanted to get even. [ most people probably wouldn't answer, but kovacs isn't most people. and yes, the same guy whose head he sliced is the very same who sought revenge. it makes sense in his world. ] Same shit, different day.

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Relax? Dude, you left a couple liters on the floor back there. ( Peter is pretty flippant about his own injuries on the regular. it does blur his understanding of what a normal human body should be able to take, at least a little. still, a stab wound seems pretty bad. so he is NOT gonna relax, thank you. Peter has never been great at the whole relax thing even under ideal circumstances, anyway.

the way the guy is lagging over a little more with every step doesn't imply he's in the greatest of places, either. it's fine, Peter is more than strong enough to pick up whatever slack is left. hopefully not noticeably, because Peter is a terrible actor, and wouldn't know where to start pretending this is more taxing than it is.

Peter isn't expecting an answer, and isn't sure how he feels about the one he gets. ) Oh, ( he says, sounding a little uncomfortable, though he's committed to hauling the guy somewhere to get looked at, potentially murderous. ) Wait, huh? How was he still kicking after that? And you know that last bit makes it sound like you get stabbed or at least maimed daily, right?

[kovach]

Your vacuum buddy'll clean it up. [ maybe cleaning the mess isn't the issue that's being presented here, but at least it's one that's getting resolved a lot better than the present one. he groans a bit, feeling in the ache around the wound. it's not enough to pass out again, but he definitely needs to get around closing it up.

still, he's trying to maintain his strength on account of believing he's been through much worse — and he has — distracted enough that he doesn't notice just how much he's not actually doing on his own. ]

Maybe not this bad, but like I said — tend to piss people off. [ or he just ends up in the wrong place, wrong time. sometimes, it's mostly both. ] I just fucked up his sleeve, but he managed to get himself into another. But his stack's dust now, so he won't be coming back this time. [ he's mostly mumbling now, trying to distract himself from the pain. ] Fucking deserved it after the torture session he shoved me through.

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I think he would resent you saying we're buddies. ( Peter and that cranky roomba didn't get off to the greatest start. he is going to have to try and turn that relationship around. how do you make a roomba like you? sweeping up yourself??? or does that invalidate the robots function?? maybe he'll pour some stuff on the floor or sweep into a straight line for easy removal or something, he possibly will have to keep brainstorming this at a later date. )

You messed with his sleeve. ( Peter is pretty intense about his favorite hoodies, though he still can't imagine stabbing someone over a piece of clothing. and from there he completely loses the plot, what with stacks and dust and torture. this is a lot to follow. ) What's your name? Do you remember your name?

( it makes Peter think of a conversation he had a long time ago, after Eugene Thompson made him eat cement in front of half of Midtown Science. and it hurts, a hard and vicious pang, like it always does when he thinks about Gwen. good memories and bad, somehow they both hurt. still, he asks because this tower of steadily bleeding man is making less and less sense as they go and now he's concerned that he's maybe got a head injury to go with the stab wound. )