Private Rescue Me Next Space Cowboy

[Sylvia Alvaro]

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tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

Commonly she would have objected to being manhandled in such a way. Sylvia had not been a damsel in distress in a very long time; and she didn't need anyone - man, woman or otherwise, to save her. She was more than capable of saving herself, as she had just proven. Even with the life being squeezed from her lungs she'd managed to get herself the hell out of dodge, it just wasn't in a manner that was entirely appropriate given their situation.

Still, at that moment her legs were like jello, unable to support her weight so she hadn't objected when he reached down and hauled her by the collar. Instead, she stumbled along beside him, a hand clutching at the back of his cloak for extra support. "You're the one who wandered off..." her retort lacked energy despite the desire to give him a verbal lashing. Sylvia could have laid the blame at his feet; she could have pointed out that if he hadn't shot down her ship then she wouldn't have to worry about being stalked and assaulted, that she wouldn't have been the target of a witch-hunt.

But she hadn't.

Instead, she stumbled beside him until they were plunged into darkness, if only briefly. At that moment she slumped forward, her forehead hitting his shoulder, eyes closing to shield against the assaulting light before finally forest leafs met forest fire when she looked up at him. "I didn't recognize him." She said after he'd made some comment about five minutes which she chose to ignore. Her throat was already aching, the feeling of fingers crushing her windpipe a phantom presence on her skin, one that made her shudder in a mixture of emotions.

Sylvia fought down the urge to be sick and steeled herself against her emotions. Now wasn't the time to let them get the better of her. There was only a handful that knew about the precious cargo she had been transporting and she could count those individuals on one hand. It seemed unlikely the man and his goons had attacked her for it. Unlikely, but not entirely impossible. What if there was a leak?

"Who did you tell about coming after my ship?" Talking her. Breaking hurt. Hell, even swallowing hurt. But she could handle a little pain - it wouldn't break her. Sylvia wasn't trying to shift the blame to him but he was a criminal after all; specifically, the one that shot her down. He hadn't really done anything to earn her trust. "The men you killed at the crash site, was that your entire crew or are there more that are going to be coming for you?" and consequently me.
​

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[Nate Phantoms]

A slow, deep sigh left them mans chest as he stood still to offer her head support, the only other sound the buzzing of the light above them. A normally fiery gaze softened if only slightly at hearing the obvious discomfort within her voice as he scanned her over, a slight bruise appearing around her neck.

Grunting before actually responding, he turned around to smash the touch pad behind them with his fist, bits of plastic and wiring clattering to the ground. Strong hands moved to her shoulder to gently move her aside as he looked into the many shadows of boxes and crates filling the room. Blinking slowly, Nate turned to look back down at her, an eyebrow raising slightly.

"I'm not really the share all type, but the ones back there?" Leaning over, he supported his weight with a hand on a crate next to him, his left hand free to wave before them as he spoke. "That's it for my crew. However-" Kissing the inside of his teeth before continuing, a few thoughts he had stuffed down after the shuttle blew up resurfaced, none too favorable either. "Obviously, you were a well sought target, and there's... uh alot of other crews that work for the same boss." A soft scoff escaped the large mans lips as he started to realize that their trouble with other goons and thugs had merely just started. A tug of guilt had followed the man since he had rescued the injured pilot, but now things were getting rather nasty. Granted she had proven she could take care of herself, but the men that were appointed over him; had been avoided for a reason.

"I don't mean to rush you -least of all after that- but there will be more after us and I don't really like our odds in this box." Standing upright again, Nate held out his hand to signal his offer at helping her. Naturally he could still sense her distrust, he hadn't done much to prove his worth. Yet. The duo were stuck in this mess together now, and he would need her to help watch his back water he admitted it or not.

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

​

tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

Sylvia respected him for not being one of those people that shared everything. In their line of work, the illegal and unscrupulous work, oversharing tended to get a person killed but she understood on more than a professional level. To this day hard lessons still scared her body and body, permanent little reminders of what happened when she shared too much with the wrong people. She didn't push him. But that didn't mean she liked his answer, as was evident in the expression on her face.

His crew was gone, there was that. But there was no telling how many were after them now. Her expression was harsh again when she looked back at him, as though the moment's vulnerability had bled away. She stared at his outstretched hand for just a moment before shaking he heard. "I'm fine," she said, moving past him. "That wasn't anything out of the ordinary." The words stung, holding too much of the truth for her liking.

Sylvia moved further from the door, expecting him to follow, rubbing at her throat for a second longer. "Our best bet is still a spaceport, we can hitch a ride out of here. If it's got an engine and a joystick, I can get us out of dodge." Just because she said that with a straight face didn't mean it was a quick or easy task.

He'd understand it. Words were easy. Actions were not. The two of them first had to get out of this birdbox, and then get to the spaceport, all without getting caught, attacked, or killed. Easy, right? "I'm Sylvia, by the way. Come one, Mister Tall, Dark, and Brooding, there has to be an exit further in."
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[Nate Phantoms]

Grunting in response again, he clapped his hands together in defeat as she ignored the attempt at a truce, rolling his eyes under the shadow of his cowl. Swing and a miss. Step-in goff to follow behind her, he nodded along at her words. Logically, all spaceports would probably be under steady surveillance as there presence was just confirmed by the last attack. Word spread fast among the gangs. Especially when money was involved. Unironically, she was worth a lot.

The mans head snapped to look at her quizzically as she stated her first name, along with papered to be her play at a truce as well after. Tall? Dark? Brooding? Despite his best effort, a grin would accompany his raised eyebrow. Muttering under his breath he scoffed, catching up to walk alongside her in no time; his strides much larger.

"How'd you find that out?" Drawling sarcastically the large man shook his head, looking up at the stores or crates and boxes many heads taller than him surrounding them in every direction. Luckily, there were shadows being cast against them, indicating light somewhere up ahead. Nate declined the opportunity to reveal his name as he felt a slight tug in his gut.

Slowing down, his brow furrowed, a silent voice in his head pointing at the door that had just come into view a few meters before them. "Stand fast for a second there, hotshot." Something was off, but he hadn't deciphered if it was going to be lethal or not. All he knew was that he had that distinct feeling his 'luck' was about to run out.

Moving past her slowly, he reached out with his hand to press his fingertips against the blast doors frame, leaning in closer. Despite the buzz of electronics, he heard shuffling feet and hushed voices, but the words were incomprehensible. Then he heard it -barely audible through the wall and ambient noises- a rapid, high pitched beeping. "What the fu-"

His words were cut off as an ear shattering explosion rang out from the entryway behind them, the entire building shaking as beams, ceiling tiles, and crates alike started falling. Pushing himself off the wall he spun on his heel, reaching out to once again grab her collar and pull her away from the door.

"Cover!" Nate bellowed at her as a second detonation nearly blew out his eardrums. Fire and debris screamed around the crates that they had just barely managed to fit behind, covering her much smaller frame. Soon cast into darkness, the ground shook as the walls and cargo plummeted around them.

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

​

tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

"That you're tall, dark, and brooding? It's written all over your face." Her reply had come with an absentminded sarcasm. Much like him, her attention was on the maze of crates around them. There were some scattered here and there, with labels on them indicating their contents, some of which were highly illegal and thus highly desirable. However, something else caught her attention very quickly.

Sylvia sensed it too—something wasn't right, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. So when he told her to hang back, she did just that, but even as he moved past, her fingers were reaching for the blaster, still tucked in the back of her jeans. However, before she got it out, the world shook violently around them. Somehow she managed to stay on her feet long enough for him to manhandle her again. As a second explosion rocked their world, she grunted in annoyance when he dragged her behind cover.

For a moment, there was only darkness as the world started to collapse around them. Then the ringing began, which was annoyingly high-pitched and seemed to drown out all other sounds. Sylvia couldn't see the walls collapsing around them; she couldn't see the approaching stranger coming to collect his prize, but she felt it. She was pressed against his chest, safe in the shelter of his body, her breath coming in panicked intakes, her eyes useless. But she knew they weren't safe.

She'd tried to explain the sensation once to Taylin. It was like every fibre of her being was aflame, like an unknown voice was crying out for her attention. And those internal warnings are what prompted her into action.

Sylvia grabbed him by the back of the neck, pulling him harder against her, and used her bodyweight to make him move. She'd barely gotten him out of the way when a blaster shot illumined the darkness. And as she landed on her backside, she pulled out her own blaster and fired a single shot in response. Sylvia didn't hear the shot she fired, didn't hear the body hit the ground and didn't hear the pounding of feet as someone else stormed into the collapsing room.

She assumed the worst. Assumed whoever had shot at them wasn't dead, assumed they were about to be buried alive. But she still turned to him in the darkness, reaching blindly for him as the roof came down on them.
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[Nate Phantoms]

Despite the flames, the large man could barely see through the dust billowing around them, her smaller frame disappearing for a second. Before he could even fully react, he stiffened in surprise as her arms wrapped around his neck, feeling his weight being lurched farther forward and into the ground. A hand and knee shot out to prevent his weight from fully collapsing onto her, grimacing as the blaster shot was barely audible over the ringing of his ears.

Groaning metal and the sparks and pops of exposed wire and electronics filled the air. Alarms and sirens being heard outside what remained of the building. Feeling her body shift underneath him, he reached down to grab her wrist when he felt her hand waving about, holding it firmly. Her pulse was understandably rapid, but still beating true. Flaming eyes peeked out through the thinning dust and debris as he shuffled closer, carefully reaching out to feel the prison of metal and concrete around them.

"You hurt?" Nates voice caught in his dry throat, barely having enough room to crawl on his hands and toes over her. He could already feel it, whatever strut or beam that had fallen over them to mostly shield them from the collapse was barely enough to hold the immense weight. Feeling or seeing no large enough crevice to wiggle out, he hovered above her while moving a hand to reach behind him into his cloak.

Willingly, he would have kept his sabers tucked away this entire endeavor, likewise with his force sensitivity. It seemed now however, that he had but no choice. Luckily enough, the building was on a slightly elevated foundation, with plenty of crawlspace under to house some of the refrigerator units. As the familiar weight settled into his hand, he gave a drawn out sigh before igniting the blade. Screeching to life, they were cast into a haze of red-purple light, the fascia blade crackling between them.

"Don't move."

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

​

tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

The relief she felt the instant his hand found her wrist was confusing but welcomed. He was alive; that was something. At least she wasn't about to be buried alive on her own. It was a miracle she'd heard his voice over the ringing in her ears and the sound of electrical sparks as more circuits popped and more flames ignited. He sounded as good as she felt. "I'm fine! Are you—" her question was cut off as a crate landed too close for comfort. Sylvia would have rolled out of the way if he had not been above her, holding her wrist.

She felt him moving above her but could barely make him out against the backdrop of smoke before the room was suddenly bathed in a hazy light. The sound that left her throat was a strangled noise of fright and surprise when he ignited that lightsaber. Sylvia pressed her back hard against the floor as she tried to retreat, finding herself trapped between the hard metal and him. In the red-purple glow of his weapon, he would see her wide-eyed expression, the way the smoke made her eyes water, making it look like she was crying, and how the ash had streaked her face. He would feel the tension in her body, like a rubber band snapping into place, as she wrenched her wrist free of his grasp. Her palm was pressed firmly against his chest, her nails catching on the fabric of his clothes as she dug them in.

He hadn't known; how could he have? Sylvia didn't have an amazing record with Force users or lightsabers. The cluster of scars on her thigh burned again with the memory of the sabre's strike. The bones that had been broken by a force grip ached as if they had never healed. She even remembered the way that sith-witch-jerk had practically mind-raped her, making her relive every painful moment of her life until he found what he wanted.

Don't move.

Sylvia stared at him with an incredulous expression, her chest heaving with a heavy intake of breath, her lungs and throat burning with the intake of smoke and hot air. He had to be kidding. Don't move—what a ridiculous thing to say. He had to have known that anyone familiar with the pain of a lightsaber wouldn't stay still when there was one ignited right in front of their fucking face. Heeled boots scrapped against the floor as she shifted again, her knee finding the inside of his hip to try and keep the distance between them.

"What the hell are you doing?" She wanted to shove him away and get out from beneath him. She was uncomfortable with him hovering over her like some falling shadow, and she was scared with that sabre in her face. She could have pushed him, but it wouldn't have mattered because while she had flexibility, he had reach. He was going to stab her, she suddenly thought. He was going to kill her; mutually assured destruction. "Stop!"

It was when he moved the weapon that she moved. Sylvia threw herself forwards and against him, a strangled sound ripping from her impossibly dry throat as she hid her face against his chest and hid in the shelter of his body once more. She could feel his heart beating against her palm, strong, and focused on it to distract herself. He wasn't going to stab her; he didn't intend to impale her in some final retribution for ruining his mission. He wanted out of this smoke-filled death room as much as she did. And unlike her he had the means to achieve it. Despite this realization, she continued to hold herself against him.

Sylvia felt the vibrations in the ground as it was cut. She heard the humming buzz and the sound of metal being cut. She felt the heat in the air from the sparks that flew this way and that way. Most of all, she felt the moment the floor gave way. She gasped and felt weightless for a split second, thinking she'd fall forever, and then her back thumbed against the ground when they landed, hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. As the shock and pain rocketed through her body, her head lulled back, resting against the floor.

"I hate you."
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[Nate Phantoms]

Despite her attempts to flee in the impossibly small space they occupied, he stayed his path. A grim expression spread across his face as he felt her retreat back against his chest, cutting through the metal under the woman's smaller frame. The building shook as it slowly continued to collapse, the authorities already attempting to investigate the ruble.

As he finished the cut out, her presence disappeared as she fell down onto the earth below. Raising an eyebrow at her words, he peered down at her momentarily before deactivating his lightsaber and crawling onto the ground beside her. Now in a bit more light, he could see the cuts and bruises covering her, and he sighed. It was his fault, but she had proven she was tough enough to handle herself at the time being.

"Save it." Turning to look around, he saw a small vent leading to the straight to his right, and there were no signs of bodies on the other side. "We've gotta move." His gaze moved back to her for a brief second before being to low oral out of her way to the vent cover, dragging his elbows and knees through the dirt. He could already feel the familiar sting of multiple scrapes and burns, along with the metallic taste and smell of his own blood. But he ignored it for now, pushing through to the vent. By the time he reached it, his already scorched clothing was torn and barely clinging to his frame under his cloak.

A bit of weight and the cover fell to the ground with a soft clatter, slithering outside, his hand on his hip, reaching for his blaster. After a quick scan, he kneeled down to stick out his hand for her, intent on waiting if she was injured, but still in much of a rush to get them both to safety. He had put her in this position, but he was going to get her out and away from harms way before letting the guilt build.

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

​

tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

At that moment, there was so much more she could have said to him. He was a fucking Force user; he had a goddamn lightsaber hidden beneath his cloak, and he hadn't said a goddamn thing. That alone was enough to make her distrust him. But she said nothing and lay there longer than she should have. The pain encouraged her not to move so that she wouldn't feel it, but not feeling it meant the pain settled in heavily. If she had the energy left to respond, she would have.

Instead, Sylvie grunted and glared at him, watching as he was forced to bellycrawl through the tight space toward that vent. It had to be uncomfortable for him. He was a large man, both in height and had broad shoulders, and there was not a lot of room for him to move. But moreso, now that there was a bit of light, she could see the way his clothing was torn, the cuts and the bruises, the blood droplets he'd left on the floor, and how he barely fit through the crawl space.

She wondered, just for a moment, if he was able to ignore it so effortlessly because he was familiar with the pain or because he was blocking it with the Force. Still, he was hurt, and she blamed herself a bit for that.

Sylvia rolled then, having considerably more room to move given her smaller size, and she regretted every choice she had made up until this moment. The burn in her muscles was immediate, taking the breath from her lungs once more as she gasped in pain. Somehow she managed to bellycrawl after him, whimpering as she did so. She took his hand this time, grateful he waited, and used it to drag herself the rest of the way out, where she managed to get to her knees and stay there.

Much like him, her own clothing was in a sorry state. Cuts and gashes littered her body here and there; there was soot caked onto her face and a very evident burn on the arm of her jacket. But he had taken the brunt of the collapse, having used his own body to shield her. If she was in pain, he was in even more.

"Spaceport." She struggled to her feet. "We need to get off this hellhole." Sylvia didn't ask before wrapping an arm around his torso so that she could support his weight as much as her own. And she didn't ask before practically dragging him away from that burning building.
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[Nate Phantoms]

As her hand fit into his he stood next to her, preparing to say something before feeling her smaller frame attempt to tug him along. Standing still he looked her over once, the burn and her obvious limp added onto the glares he was receiving earlier. "You're too injured to not slow us down." Removing her arm from around his ribs, he swung his own under her legs, sweeping her up into a tight carry as he began to jog down the street.
"Not a word. And try not to bleed on me."

Normally he would have thrown her over his shoulder, but his body was already screaming at him. Every injury was different, some closed up in hours, others took months. The long, geometric scars covering his body could attest to that. It had been more than a decade since that fatal night aboard the Purgatory, and he could only imagine he had outlived the doctors estimated life span. Despite the aches and pains, he kept a tight grip around her small frame as he moved between buildings, avoiding crowds under the sunset. Luckily, the spaceport was mildly abandoned due to the explosions.

Peeking around a corner, the large man scanned over the large freighter, its mixed crew of workers and droids still loading cargo across the ramp. Flaming iris's moved along the ships hull until he found his target. The starboard ventilation shaft was opened for now as the steam from what must have been refrigerant lines escaped.

"Head up. We're getting out of here."

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

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tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

The protest on her tongue would go unheard as he lifted her as if she weighed nothing. That rubber band of tension snapped through her body again, which was held tightly in the cage of his arms. It felt far too intimate, far too familiar, coming from a man she currently claimed to hate. Usually, she would have fought back, struggled until he was forced to put her down, or made some stupid sarcastic and flirty comment about him having to try a lot harder to get her into his arms. Instead, she had only stared up at him, her brow furrowed in concern. "But you're the one who's bleeding."

He didn't hear her, or maybe he did and ignored her. Either way, he didn't give her a choice but to stay in his arms like a meek little woman, hurt and distressed. If she hadn't been so hurt, she might have kept up the bravado. But she was tired. Her head rested against his chest, her eyes were closed, and she sighed deeply, coughing up the smoke that remained in her lungs. Still, he had to be feeling it too. And now he was carrying the weight of a second person. He was more stubborn than she was.

Her eyes snapped open when he spoke, spotting the same vent he'd seen. Sylvia swallowed the lump in her throat; having just been stuck in a small space within a burning building, it was the last place she wanted to hide. But they didn't really have a choice. Stealing it would draw too much attention to them, more so than the explosion already had. "It's not going to be the most comfortable escape," she muttered, spying the steam and knowing where it came from. "At least it's a seat out of here. Are you going to put me down, or are you carrying me inside, bridal style?"
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[Nate Phantoms]

Soon enough, the sun had set and cast them into shadow, staying silent as her head rested against his chest. His body ached and groaned against each movement, but he ignored it for now. I'll have to handle it later. Out of sight of her without a doubt. Th large man had seen her face when he ignited the saber, felt her shrink away. She was losing trust by the second.

Her words fell on deaf ears and strong arms, carrying her all the way up to the freighter, looking up the side of the metal frame. She was lucky he was too tired to bicker or give a snarky remark, moving to set her on her feet. The vents and ducts would hopefully lead over into the crews quarters or at least somewhere they could hunker down and rest for a few hours.

Standing he sighed, knowing he would have a hell of a time squeezing in behind her. Turning to look down at her he inclined his head to the crates nearby. "You think you can climb up?" Stepping to the the crates, he rested against it, taking a moment to collect himself, wincing. "Or am I gonna have to carry you."

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

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tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

He carried her all the way to the freighter, much to her chagrin and relief. Truth be told, she would have been fine if he had put her down beforehand, but she was still grateful that he carried her. Regardless, when he set her on her feet, the knot that had twisted through her stomach lessened, and she felt like she could breathe a little easier at that moment.

The way he held her, the strength in his arms, the way she buried her face against his chest—it was all a little too much for her. Still, when the weight of her own body was carried on her own two legs again, every muscle and joint screamed in protest. The heels didn't help. Sylvia chewed on the inside of her cheek as she looked up at the crates and then at the vent, knowing he would have a hard time fitting through it.

"I'll be fine," she said for what seemed like the hundredth time—why didn't anyone ever listen when she said it? "You're gonna struggle. That's a tight squeeze." Her words were direct and to the point: he was going to struggle, and they both knew it, but more so because he was dealing with his own injuries as well. Sylvia stared at him for a moment longer, green eyes moving from head to toe, taking in the injuries and the expression on his face.

With a sigh, she turned away from him and climbed the first crate; she hated every second of it. She climbed a little higher, found the vent, and pried it open. She looked over her shoulder to make sure he was following, but she knew that he was a stubborn nerf herder, much like her, so she only waited a minute before continuing through the vent. It was much roomier for her than it would be for him.

Her shoulders weren't pressed up against the sides of the vent as he would be, and she felt for him. She'd never given her size much thought, but it certainly gives her an advantage right now. The crawl felt like it lasted forever, but soon enough she'd come to the other end, trying to gently drop the grate without making a bunch of noise. Once she was out, she quickly looked around and when she saw no one looked back to him.

"Come on, you're almost out."
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[Nate Phantoms]

A forced smile covered his face at her words, waving a hand at her. His legs shook under his cloak, and he could feel the blood pooling in his boot. She just needed to start climbing and thy both needed to sit down for a moment. It had been constant movement since her crash, avoiding death and druggies alike was taxing.

"Just go on ahead."

As soon as the woman had started climbing along the crates and into the vent, Nate reached out to steady himself, supporting his weight that threatened to collapse. Fuck. The pain in his body had increased dramatically as some wounds began to heal, others bleeding profusely. Despite nearly fainting, he knew he had no time to waste. A soft groan escaped his lips as he followed behind her, having to turn a bit to fit inside well enough to retain at least a bit of maneuverability.

Despite the sun going down, the vent was stifling. He could feel the heat cascading over him, and it was maddening. Holding in a grunt of pain, he lowered himself to the ground beside her, no longer able to stand as strong as he was earlier. Collapsing onto his side, he took a deep breath, sprawled out across the floor. Flaming eyes closed as he struggled to maintain his bearing, sighing painfully.

"I'm fine." Sitting up sooner than his body would have liked, the man shook his head slowly, pushing himself off the ground. That was al the time he'd get, all the rest he could allow himself to endure. "Follow me."

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

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tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

"Except you're not fine," she said in exasperation. He was going to die young at this rate, but that was the pot calling the kettle black, because she wasn't doing so well either. Her body was screaming at her to stop, to sit down, and to rest. The combination of the freighter being shot down, being strangled by some musclebound meathead, and having a burning building collapse on top of them was finally starting to take its toll. Everything was hurting.

So when he got to his feet, seemingly ignoring her offer to help, she threw her hands up in frustration. Sighing heavily, she limped after him. "Sure, I'll follow you. You're only bleeding and on the verge of passing out in the damn corridor; what could go wrong?" He couldn't hide that fact. It was obvious in the way his steps had slowed, the tremble in his legs, and the way each step seemed to drain more of his energy. The blood was the most concerning part. Sylvia couldn't see the wound beneath his cloak but imagined it was bad.

Sylvia followed close behind him, her hand pressing gently against his back as she peered up and down the corridor. It was uncomfortably quiet; their breathing and footsteps were the only sound in the silence. It was most likely deserted as a result of the explosion or because the crew was out getting liquored up. Either way, she was on edge right up until the moment he found an empty room in the crew's quarters. The air inside the room was heavy, and a fine layer of dust had settled on the shelves. The bed was made but didn't appear to have been slept in.

She wasn't sure until she checked the adjoining rooms, the bathroom, and the closet, but once it was clear that no one was hiding in the dark, she relaxed. Sylvia turned to face him when the door snapped shut and was locked behind them. Stepping into his space, she grabbed him by the arms, staring up at him with narrowed and concerned eyes. "We're safe; we're alone. Now, will you sit down before you pass out, please." Her voice was stern as she tried to move him, putting her weight behind her, determined that he would sit down even if it was just for five minutes.
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[Nate Phantoms]

A grunt would have been the only answer she received, his eyes scanning back and forth down the hallway. I'm fine. She wasn't the one he was trying to convince. Health wise, he was deteriorating rapidly. As years passed he could feel the years of trauma and trials by fire beating him down. The man knew he needed rest and medical, but he would have to handle it on his own.

A dirt covered hand shot out to punch the controls for the door, sighing deeply as the door hissed open, revealing the room. There was no check for workers inside, no weapons drawn. He had already reached out with his subconscious for anyone else onboard. Letting her go do whatever it was she went off to do, he bit the inside of his cheek firmly. A grimace spread out across his face as he moved closer to bathroom, stopping only when she entered his space.

Instantly the walls went up, his body stiffened at her touch, the flames behind his eyes flickering. Please. Despite his fatigue and broken body, he leaned his weight back against her, pushing through to the counter and mirror. "You're a pilot," Shrugging off his cloak, he groaned softly as it pulled off his body, his tattered shirt and bloody arm to match. "Not a doctor."

Hanging up his cloak with his left hand on the chair behind him, his wounds in full view now. Varying sizes of burns and shrapnel peppered his right arm and side, some being seen protruding from the bottom of his shirt and pants. Reaching down he tore a strip of fabric from what remained of his shirt, looping it around his bicep to tie tightly. "The shower's yours, I'll try and find us some new clothes." His voice was low and hushed, too tired to give her attitude as he pulled the mirror open to reveal a small first aid kit. Turning slowly, his good arm held it out, meeting her gaze.

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

Sylvia bit the inside of her cheek when he pushed past, ignoring her once more, and leaving her standing there like a useless little woman. She bit until she tasted blood to keep from calling him every name under the sun. What was his problem? She'd been nice to him; she had even said please with sincerity instead of sarcasm but he continued to brush her aside. Why? Did he look at her and see someone who wasn't capable? Did he see someone who he thought was useless? Did he see a woman that wasn't as fast or as strong as a man? His next words answered these unspoken questions.

You're a pilot.

That's what he saw - just a pilot.

The shadow that fell over face was unmistakable as she stalked after him, following him into the bathroom. For a moment her pain was forgotten, as were his injuries. A fire settled in the pit of her stomach, scorching her from the inside out. Just a pilot - no - she was so much more. Sylvia had been the pilot of the Rebellion. Rogue Squadron, best of the best, one of the youngest commanders in military history. How dare he insinuate otherwise.

"I might not be a doctor but I have one. I could call her and she could help." Taylin would help them; they could trust her. Even to her own ears she sounded petulant and childish. Realizing this was enough to knock some of the hot air out of her, to take the fight out of her. If he wanted to act like a tough guy who was she to stop him? A better question was why did she care? Maybe because he was disregarding her every suggestion and attempt to help. But she wasn't useless.

She was Sylvia-fucking-Alvaro and she didn't need to prove herself to him.

So for a moment she glared at the first aid kit when he offered it, contemplating knocking it out of his hand in retaliation. But as the ache returned to her body she decided against it. Instead, she snatched it from him and locked him out of the bathroom. Once he was gone she threw it against the counter in frustration before peeling her own jacket off. It cling to her skin, making her whimper when it pulled away from the burns. Underneath the leather she was bruised and battered; small cuts, purple bruises, and streaks of blood here, there and everywhere.

The last time she'd looked like this was on a mission with the old crew. Back when she, Var, and Larsa still galavanted across the universe on some death quest. It was the same mission where Larsa had died, Var had been arrested and the whole universe got turned upside down and inside out. That thought was enough to take the rest of the fight out of her.

It was only once she'd gotten her boots off that she stopped, leaning against the counter to support herself as the days events weighed heavy. She stared at the first aid kit. Her brows furrowed and she looked at the locked door. After a minute she laughed, grabbed the first aid kid and left the bathroom.

With a hand on her hip she moved to stand in front of him again, blocking his path. Her earlier fire was now replaced with an undeniable smugness. “Take off your shirt." She said, her tone somewhat amused. “Why, you might want to ask," she went on, making sure to interrupt him, smirking. “Well, because I have the first aid kit and you don't."

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Sadly, her look of utter disbelief and words were not enough to make him feel any different about his choices. To be frank, he only wanted to sleep, or a stiff drink to match the soreness in his body. Even at her glare and snatching of the medkit, he let it be, sighing as the door shut before him. He could sense her frustration, and the way her eyes dug into him. Perhaps his words and actions were not the correct approach, but there was nothing else he could do. She already dent trust him as is.

Moving to sit down in the nearest chair, he winced as his weight settled against the frame, slowly reaching to begin untying his boots. His shower and aid would have to wait until she was done, knowing she needed it just as much as well. That was, until she came barreling back out, standing before him. Nates brow furrowed at her sudden appearance, not expecting to see her so soon. Least of all with such a smug look.

"Excu-" Despite his normal cool composure, her words startled him. A slight brush crept into his cheeks as she cut him off, looking over her canted stance. She has to be joking. "Shouldn't you be back there taking care of yourself?" Grunting, he rose to his feet, moving to guide her back into the bathroom.

Sylvia Alvaro

 

[Sylvia Alvaro]

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tag: Nate Phantoms
wearing: xXx

The moment his hands rose to guide her back to the bathroom, the tide of anger poured through her veins again, like molten lava moving beneath the ground's surface. A flame flickered behind her eyes before she smacked his hands away with more force than needed, letting her annoyance, her anger, and the weight of the day's events bleed into her behaviour. And the next thing she knew, she was pushing hard against his chest, unconcerned about his pain or the consequences, just fed up with him treating her this way. Sylvia shoved him back into the chair, intending that he would sit down and do as he was told for once.

"I will be fine," she snapped, her jaw tightening and clenching as she stared at him. "I'm bruised and bloody, and I'm cut up, but that is nothing compared to you right now." She motioned with her hand to the shrapnel on his arm, the droplets of blood he'd left behind as he walked around the room, the burns, cuts, and bruises. He had taken the worst of it in that building collapse, having shielded her smaller frame beneath him. And, despite her outward attitude, she was grateful—and perhaps even a little guilty.

Just a little bit. He was a force user, after all—a force user who was also a liar.

Sylvia swallowed hard to push that thought back down her throat. "Now, if you're done blushing like a teenager, take off your shirt." She'd moved in closer this time, so that if he tried to stand up again, he'd come face to face, or rather face to chest, with her. And if he was stubborn enough to try again, which she was sure he would, if he tried to guide her toward that bathroom like she was some fragile and beguiled woman, she would shove him right back down into that seat.
​

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[Nate Phantoms]

Perhaps he had misjudged her, or more than likely she was tired of having to deal with him. Despite these thoughts he still planned on continually pushing her away, at least he would have. But that was all before he watched the anger flashing her eyes, and felt her much smaller and less weathered hands shoving him back down into his seat.

Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing her out, a balled fist smacked the counter beside him. Walking normally hut enough as it was, but god damn did this little lady have some force behind that push. The miniature inferno in his eyes sparked a little brighter as he glared up at her, his body going into the defense.

"Ow." Nate growled at her through his teeth, knowing she was only trying to help. A heavy sigh left his chest as blinked slowly. "You're absolutely-" Soon his words were being muffled from the inside of his shirt as he barely managed to pull it over his head clenching his jaw to hold back a groan of pain. "-fucking ridiculous." Tossing the shirt to the side in defeat, he continued to untie his boots, taking a moment to ignore her so they could both cool down.

A mix of dried and fresh blood could be seen traveling down his ribs, disappearing into his belt. Sitting up straight he leaned back into his chair, his arm hanging over the cushion to give her better access. The patter of old old scars cut throughout the swirling tattoo that covered his back, shapes and lines faded with time curving around his rib cage and up over his shoulders.

"I've could have done it myself."

Sylvia Alvaro