Gavii asks: Whumpay 23 - "worse than it seems" Virgil and dealer's choice. :D
To help I spun the Wheel of Whump and got: Bloody Hands and Holding Cell.
With much thanks to Sineater for helping provide background.
Enjoy a little FishTank.
Popocatépetl had been one of the volcanos Virgil had wanted to visit. Pictures he had seen showed a beautiful snow-capped mountain with a clear azure sky and the closet volcanologist had itched to see it.
Well, he reflected as he wiped ash-covered hands clean, he had got his wish. The volcano had been smoking for days and evacuations had been ongoing. International Rescue had stepped in when the phreatic eruptions began to include sprays of incandescent materials.
The towns of Puebla, San Juan Tianguismanalco and San Pedro Benito Juárez had mostly been evacuated. They were used to the mountain's volcanic activities, although it had been several years since the volcano had actually spewed forth any lava.
Today they were taking no chances, and alongside local and national rescue and government agencies they had evac'd the scientists and any stragglers that wanted rescue but couldn't be reached by the other teams.
One and Scott with Alan had left already, another rescue calling for them to return home and pick up Three. Two was currently grounded, the upshot of one particularly spectacular explosion of ash and smoke that had managed to get into Two's…well, everything. Not an unusual situation for volcano rescues, it meant that while Two performed the cleaning and purges needed to flush the gunk out for smooth flight Virgil and Gordon had time to kill.
This was the reason Two always carried civilian clothes – and why Virgil had sketch pads to hand. The purge would take a good couple of hours at least,, given the levels of ash and debris in the sky. Time enough to sketch the skyline.
At first as the sketch came together, Gordon amused himself and Virgil was able to lose himself in the moment. The sky turned to a golden yellow at the edges of the grey-black smoke and occasional red sparks the volcano was emitting. The plan around them looked almost green-blue in comparison, and Virgil took several photos for colour references for if he decided to paint this. It was such a colour contrast he might well.
Slowly Virgil became aware of Gordon. His brother was fidgety, fiddling with something while casting glances at him. He sighed. Obviously Gordon wanted to ask him something but was polite enough to wait – an unusual event for the ever-active Squid. Putting his pad and pencils away in their carrycase for safety, he wiped his hands and turned to Gordon, who flashed him a dazzling grin.
A grin that dazzling meant only one thing. Trouble. Usually in the form of asking Virgil to do something he would usually say no to. But it had been a very long and tiring day – keeping Two steady while rescuing people had been hard on his muscles, and even though the drawing was relaxing, it certainly didn't help that aspect.
'Gords?'
'Two still has at least half an hour to go, Virg. Can we go grab a drink? I'm parched!'
Virgil thought about that for all of two seconds. A drink sounded nice. And he rather liked the local tamarind soda, a sweet and slightly sour drink that really hit the spot. Rather than answer Gordon directly, Virgil snagged him around the neck and noogied him hard before pushing him over and speeding off to put his art kit away. He laughed at the sheer incredulous look on his brother's face, but it was soon smiling at him as they made their way to the local cantina in hopes of ice-cold soft drinks.
The remaining locals greeted them warmly and with cheers, and quickly two bottles of Jarritos were put before them. The cantina was half-full, but that didn't surprise Virgil. The people who lived here knew the moods of Popocatépetl better than anything, and International Rescue was well used to locals who would wait until the very last second before fleeing – if then.
The air in the place was subdued but not negative, and most customers were smiling at them. After the first drink the bar relaxed and chatter began to wash over Virgil as he, too relaxed. People began to come over and thank them, spending a little time chatting with them.
The half hour stretched to an hour without either of them noticing, and one drink became two and then three as music began to be gently played and some got up to dance. Virgil watched with a smile on his face while Gordon openly tapped his foot before a local grabbed him and pulled him up to dance. Never one to hold back, he was soon in the centre wiggling away in what Gordon called 'the cool dance moves', and Virgil's smile became a grin.
He'd turned back to the bar to order one last drink – he'd told John what they were up to and had promised no more than 90 minutes – and so he missed what started the incident.
One minute the atmosphere was light and full of laughter, the next…the happy chatter became angry and loud, and Virgil turned with a frown to see what was going on.
Just in time to see Gordon floored by a man twice his size.
He shot off the stool as the man stood over Gordon, fists clenched that spoke of more to come if his little brother didn't stay down, and put himself between the two, helping Gordon up.
Whatever had happened had certainly angered the man. As Gordon brushed himself down with a word of thanks to him, Virgil turned to play peacemaker as usual, only he turned into a fist. As Virgil swayed a moment in surprise Gordon jumped in with a yell, and he was not the only one.
Before Virgil had even had time to process that the man had hit him the cantina was one massive fight. Several other people got punches in – and he was sure one of them was Gordon – before the yelling became suddenly worse and uniformed men were wading in.
With a last punch to his side and a grunt, Virgil found his arms pulled back and hustled into a van. He couldn't see Gordon anywhere with him, but he assumed that there were more than one van.
By the time they had arrived at the local delegaciones Virgil had begun to feel every bruise he'd obtained. He was processed quickly and shoved into a large holding cell with several people he recognised from the cantina and some he didn't. But he was more than happy when ten minutes after he had been put here Gordon was shoved in too.
Gordon threw him a wonky grin. Wonky because one side was already swollen and matched his black eye, and by the twinkle in his brother's eye Virgil just knew he looked as bad. He reached across and pulled him close, hand on his shoulder as he looked him over. Gordon let him for precisely two minutes before he wiggled out of the embrace with a cocked eyebrow and a grumble about 'smotherhens'.
'It's worse than it seems, Virg, I promise.'
Virgil grunted in reply and submitted with just as much humour as Gordon gave him the once-over too. Gordon frowned and touched his side, igniting an explosion of pain from a wound he hadn't known he had.
They stared at the blood on Gordon's hand before Virgil's legs folded beneath him and he vaguely heard Gordon shouting for a medic before darkness took him.