Day Twenty-Three: Trope: Dragged By Collar
Trope: What do you do when somebody's being stubborn or trying to excuse themself from a sticky situation? Force them into it by dragging them away by their collar, of course!
Getting dragged by the collar is often used as a comedic device, most often in anime (though it does pop up in Western Animation sometimes). The "victim" would, more often than not, be trying to escape an embarrassing predicament (of his own doing) before another person grabs him and drags his butt off to whatever mess awaits him. The victim's loud protests and flailing of arms are optional. Small variants include getting dragged while standing (with the heels skidding on the ground instead of the butt), and stiff, outstretched arms. Sometimes, instead of the collar, characters are dragged by their cheeks, ears, arms, or legs.
This is not always used for comedy, however, especially when the one being dragged away is unconscious, injured, or in severe cases, dead.
Characters: Were!Virgil, Scott
Warnings: Exploding building, Blood, injury mention.
He hated wearing the collar, no matter that he knew it was important. There had been too many close calls, and after that one time he'd almost been euthanised he wasn't prepared to take the risk.
Virgil sat on his haunches and grumbled away to himself. Scott was currently buying coffee from one of the street vendors and the pair were heading back to the apartment. He so rarely walked New York in his were-form, but today, after being cooped up in TI for a week without being able to run freely Virgil had demanded time to run before they had the next meeting. Scott had readily agreed and a trip to the dog park and a couple hours later Virgil felt much, much better.
Only one more thing could top this morning off, and Scott was on that.
Coffee bought, Scott walked away and he followed, the aroma a much more secure way to get him to stick to his brother than anything else. Scott was good with the collar and lead, he was the only brother Virgil would trust with the infernal torture tools, and he loped easily in step as they headed back across the park, across the road where they had two blocks to walk before reaching Tracy Towers.
They had only just passed the bank on the first block when the world exploded around them.
Or rather, the bank did.
Shrill buzzing in his ears woke Scott up. He groaned as he tried to move, but debris pinned him down. Blood was oozing down his face and sealing his eye shut – at least he thought that was the reason. Scott brought his hand up to check, only to notice his fist closed closely over Virgil's lead.
Virgil! Where was Virgil?
Coughing, Scott began clearing the rubble around him until he had his arm clear. Amazed that the arm didn't seem broken, he pulled on the leash. It disappeared into the debris beyond his reach. He needed to sit up to free his legs and where his brother should be.
The ringing was beginning to dim and the sounds of screams, groans and traffic began to filter through. Scott blinked. He was pinned up by the side of the road, a big yellow car on his one side where the lead disappeared.
Thoughts of Virgil being underneath the car caused Scott to panic a little, and he mentally checked himself over before moving any further. No noticeable damage to his neck or spine, Scott took the chance, sitting up with gritted teeth biting back a scream of his own. There was definitely some injury there, but he'd worry about that later.
It was the insistent tugging at his throat that eventually woke Virgil. He growled without opening his eyes, but whichever brother it was yanking his collar was ignoring him. He went to stand up, only to hit his head before he'd even half risen.
What the hell?
The shock woke him up fully, and sounds began to filter through. And the smells. Smoke, explosives, blood.
Blood! Scott!?
The tug at his collar made sense now, and he let forth a bark-howl, hoping that Scott would hear it. The tugging stopped for a moment, and he heard a very welcome muffled voice.
'Virgil?'
He couldn't risk actually talking to his brother, you never knew who would be listening, so he barked again. Virgil stayed where he was and listened as the sounds of rubble being moved.
A hand grabbed his tail and he wagged it.
'Virg, I can't move any more rubble this side. There's a small space for you to crawl backwards through. Can you get out the other side?'
'Woof.'
One woof for no, two for yes, was a system they'd worked out years ago.
'Ok. I'll pull gently to help guide you.'
'Woof woof.'
Scott gently but firmly pulled, strong enough to help without hurting his brother. As Virgil began to scramble out Scott lay back down so he could climb over him.
It was a tight squeeze, and as Scott's hand touched Virgil's back he whined. Scott's hand came back with blood and grease and oil on it. The explosion must have blown him under the cab and protected him from the rubble that had caught Scott.
As Virgil continued backing out he ended up putting his back legs and full weight on Scott's stomach. The sharp intake of breath that Scott failed to hide told him that his brother was more injured than he had thought.
A hand on his collar and one final drag, and Virgil was out, fully resting on Scott. His tail thumped, glad to be out of that confined space, but Scott didn't respond. The hand on his collar fell limp and Virgil nuzzled his chin carefully, sliding off his brother until just his head was resting on Scott's chest.
Nothing.
He whined but Scott was out for the count. He could see blood and bruising all over his face and neck, knew he had a stomach issue and he could smell blood from somewhere else.
Virgil whined again. In this form he couldn't call for help, and Scott's watch was smashed beyond repair. He snuggled as close as he could.
They would just have to wait to be rescued.
