Jet Link | 002 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
metalicarus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
makinglies2015-07-17 11:45 pm
metalicarus) wrote in makinglies2015-07-17 11:45 pm
Entry tags:
Because I know that, when I wake up, the nightmare will start
There was something muffled, some kind of sound. Talking, maybe? Yeah, talking, more than one voice. He couldn't make out the words, someone must have stuffed cotton into his ears. And maybe lined his eyelids with lead while they were at it cause opening his eyes was impossible. He tried and the talking seemed to stop, then he couldn't hear anything as unconsciousness grabbed him again.
The next time he came around, his eyes worked again. At least, they did once he realized wherever he was it was just dark and not that he couldn't see. The second thing he became aware of was that he was being carried. Whoever's back he was on hadn't realized he was awake yet and that sent Jet's mind racing. He'd been dead, he'd died in the arena which means they'd miraculously brought him back and now-? He did a quick mental check, he could control his own body so they hadn't turned him into a weapon, he was aware of his mind and it didn't feel any more or less jumbled than usual so no brainwashing....and thank god he still had his tongue. The next question was why he still had his tongue or anything for that matter. Maybe they were taking him off to do something worse, something new he hadn't seen yet because, surely, there had to be something coming.
Well, they weren't going to just do whatever to him without a fight. He had the element of surprise, he could get the jump on them and fight his way out of wherever he was and after that...well, he'd figure that out when he got there. For right now, he had to act.
He whipped his arms up to wrap around the neck of whoever was carrying him and twisted himself so he could pull out of their grip. He was a little taller, hopefully he could choke this guy out fast before anyone came to help him. Having metal arms would help with that.
The next time he came around, his eyes worked again. At least, they did once he realized wherever he was it was just dark and not that he couldn't see. The second thing he became aware of was that he was being carried. Whoever's back he was on hadn't realized he was awake yet and that sent Jet's mind racing. He'd been dead, he'd died in the arena which means they'd miraculously brought him back and now-? He did a quick mental check, he could control his own body so they hadn't turned him into a weapon, he was aware of his mind and it didn't feel any more or less jumbled than usual so no brainwashing....and thank god he still had his tongue. The next question was why he still had his tongue or anything for that matter. Maybe they were taking him off to do something worse, something new he hadn't seen yet because, surely, there had to be something coming.
Well, they weren't going to just do whatever to him without a fight. He had the element of surprise, he could get the jump on them and fight his way out of wherever he was and after that...well, he'd figure that out when he got there. For right now, he had to act.
He whipped his arms up to wrap around the neck of whoever was carrying him and twisted himself so he could pull out of their grip. He was a little taller, hopefully he could choke this guy out fast before anyone came to help him. Having metal arms would help with that.
no subject
Jet closed the distance between them quickly and grabbed the front of the guy’s shirt to shove him back against the tunnel’s wall. “How ‘bout you start giving me some real answers. Fast.”
There was something there, at the back of his mind. He thought of that jackass, Makara who’d been born here in Panem but was far too similar to Initiate to be a coincidence. And he wasn’t the only one either, Jet had heard about others. And the minute the words were out of his mouth, he knew he was wrong and these were the real answers. This was like Makara and Jet was finding he didn’t like it any better. How many more copies of his family were gonna show up and who would it be next? Sam? Albert? Jesus, even himself? The last thing he wanted to do was meet some Capitol-brainwashed version of himself.
It was then Barnes’ words from earlier came back and finally registered. ‘I think your husband would rather have you back in one piece.’
“You’re from 13, aren’t you? You know Albert.” He backed off a tiny bit, at least letting go of the guy’s shirt and taking one (small) step back. “What the hell are you doing here and where are we?” The edge of malice still wasn’t out of his voice, but at least he wasn’t being overtly threatening.
no subject
“Yes and we’re trying to rescue you. In case you’ve forgotten, you punched a gamemaker which, allow me to inform you, is likely one of the most idiotic things you can do in Panem, it’s right up there with standing outside Snow’s mansion and yelling about what you think of him so good for you.” Bucky couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this sarcastic, but most of the people in 13 weren’t as recklessly stupid as this one either. There was a reason he hadn’t pushed for Jet to be grabbed with Albert.
Of course, now that he thought of the older man, it occurred to him the smarts in that equation must rest solely on Heinrich. Bucky had yet to see any actual good traits about Link except maybe how much he cared about Sam.