Thread: Wasteland Flame (PsionicCuttlefish & Xeres)

When light finally fell on the face of the individual under the cloak as the hood was pulled back, Markus sucked in a surprised breath. Not a mutant at all. An Alphasoldier! A real, live Alphasoldier! One of the more successful supersoldier-programs from before the war broke out, they were genetically engineered people spliced with animal genes, with almost all other physical aspects of themselves greatly improved enhanced strength, mental coordination, increased stamina, faster response times, improved senses, increased healing rate, even their skin and muscle density was tough enough to turn away most blades and mitigate low-caliber bullets alone. Most of the Alphasoldiers were deployed, and subsequently KIA'd, during WWIII. Markus had never actually seen one before with his own eyes, yet here was a living, breathing Alphasoldier right before him. Well, not living or breathing for much longer if he didn't do something right away. If it weren't for the life-or-death situation, Makrus would have thought she actually looked rather pretty, despite being a half-animal human. He gently pulled the obviously female soldier from the corner to lay her out straight on the ground so he could take a better look at her wound. It was nasty, and would certainly be fatal if untreated, but as Markus glanced over to the antimaterial rifle on the ground some distance away, he realized that it was thanks her bulletproof vest and her resilience that she wasn't dead already with a huge chunk blown out of her side. As it was now, it was just a large open wound, bleeding everywhere. Without further hesitation, Markus opened up his medical kit and pulled out several foam-sprays, starting with a light anti-infection spray to keep mutant bacteria out, before following up with a large glob of pro-coagulant spray to stem the bleeding, before he tried to tie a bandage around her waist to keep it sealed up for now. It wasn't enough though, he knew she needed actual intensive surgery, and Markus could only do that back at his lab. He just needed her to hang on for the ten minutes it would take to get there, once he got his Dunerunner working again... C'mon, stay with me, don't give up on me, I can't let you die after all this... Marus muttered as he unfolded his collapsible stretcher and tried to move the female warrior onto it, oof-ing at her unexpected weight due to her muscular build. With a little bit of difficulty, he managed to get her all the way on the stretcher, at which point he affixed rollers to one end and picked up the other, and dragged her out of the building and back to his Dunerunner, speaking the whole way You're gonna make it, you're an Alphasoldier, you just need to hold on until we get home... He was mostly talking to himself, to keep himself reassured. Makrus then worked to get the woman lifted up and into the rear seat of his Dunerunner, no small task, compounded by the fact he was doing his best not to agitate her wound. But he managed it, then quickly set about getting his Dunerunner back online. The damage was mostly superficial, but one of the bandit's bullets had shorn through a power conduit to one of the wheels. It was a simple matter to reroute power, and thirty-seven seconds later, the Dunerunner hummed back to life. Alright, let's get home! Come on, stay with me, keep breathing... Markus said as he hopped into the diver's seat and sped off into the dust. Once back into the bunker that Markus had appropriated as his home, he enlisted the help of several of the robotic waldo-arms from around his lab to carefully lift the Alphasoldier from the Dunerunner and onto a bed that he could operate on. Markus then set about stripping off her vest and other accessories, in order to keep everything away from the wound while he worked. With surgial tools n hand, Markus then went about extracting every metal fragment he could get, while then proceeding to stitch her back up... Marksus leaned back, sighing and pulling off the bloody gloves from his hands. He had done the best he could to repair the damage and get the soldier out of immediate danger. He had also managed to pull some of his lab equipment to distill a nutrient solution, which he then set up into a jury-rigged IV drip. Also with a cooked up makeshift heart-monitor, Markus examined the soldier's current status. Her breathing was still very shallow, but her heart was still beating with good regularity. That was all a good sign, it suggested her enhanced healing rate was beginning to kick in, keeping all her other biological functions on minimal support to focus everything on recovering. Only time would tell if it actually would work...and if it did, she'd be ravenously hungry once she woke up. Markus settled into keep a close monitor on her, the next few hours would be critical. Makrus also couldn't help noticing, now that his own heart was slowing down from all the excitement and he was really able to take stock of things...that the woman had a hell of a body, divested of most of her garments. Her biceps were twice as thick as his own scrawny arms, her abs were very well defined, and--Markus blushed a bit--she had one rather impressive rack. Markus shook his head, covered her up with a blanket, and willed himself to ignore all that. This was important, her life was at stake, he couldn't let himself be distracted by such things... When the Alphasoldier finally regains her senses, she'd be able to take stock of her surroundings and situation. First, there was a lot of pressure around her sides she was very heavily bandaged around the waist. She was also mostly wearing only undergarments, with a light blanket drawn over her body. A monitor was beeping softly next to her, and there was a needle in one of her arms that fed from a bag of clear fluid. All around her, she looked to be in some kind of laboratory, with esoteric machinery and cobbled-together technical equipment littering the room. There was a table next to her, which had all her normal clothes folded up on it--washed of blood and with holes sewn back up--along with all of her weapons and gadgets, plus a plate of food rations. And, just beyond the table, was a man sitting in a chair. He was slumped down, with head against his chest, while he snored softly. A mop of black hair adorned his head, and a pair of rectangular glasses were set over his closed eyes. He had a round, boyish face, slightly smudged with oil, and he wore a long white labcoat, though it was slightly browned from extensive travelstains. He continued to snore. OOC Wow, quite a long post! Very few of my posts should be this long, I was just running through several scenes during which there wouldn't be any real meaningful input from your character...