"Stop bein' a baby." If anything, he just settles more of his weight on Ghoul and yanks harder to prove a point.
"Tell me you ain't holdin' onto anything in there." He'd like to think Ghoul's smarter than that, but having basically raised Kobra, he's used to expecting feats of stupidity at the worst times. "If you're holdin' anything, you let go now and we'll just pretend I saved your arm and get on with our day."
Of course they both know he's lying and he'll never let Ghoul forget this no matter what.
A baby. How rude. He thinks he's handling this pretty well considering his arm is already sore, falling asleep, and being handled with the good ol' caveman technique. He grits his teeth after that last yank, making a weird, quiet growly sort of noise in his throat.
The expression on his face quickly goes completely blank, though, before he levels Party with a dead stare. "You kiddin' me? How stupid d'you think I am?" Okay, no, bad question to ask right now. Ghoul realizes he doesn't want an answer to that one, and begins speaking again before Party gets a chance to say something sassy. "Ain't got anything in my hand, okay?"
To demonstrate, he flaps it around inside the belly of the machine. There's nothing to see, of course, but there's a soft thumping sound for a couple seconds before Ghoul flinches and quits. "There's- I dunno, a trap door or some shit. I can push up but it bites down if I pull back."
"Okay." There's a lot of choice comments Party could make right now, but he's itching to not be trapped here first. It's not like he could bolt and leave Ghoul here if something went down. They'd both be pinned in.
"Stay still." He says as if he's giving Ghoul much of a choice.
Carefully, he slips his hand up into the hole to the trap mechanism. He pushes at it carefully with the tips of his fingers. "Feelin' any slack in there yet?"
He wants to fire back with a snappy comeback, but he's got nothing. Instead he sighs and does what he's told, staring gloomily down at the dirt while Party snakes his own hand in to places it shouldn't be.
At first, he doesn't feel anything. He's halfway to saying as much- but Party's on the right track. After a few more seconds, Ghoul perks up. "Hold on, I can get it right there." He should let Party loosen it up a bit more, but god damnit, Ghoul is done now. The fit is still tight around the bones of his wrist, but if he twists his hand just so, it gives him barely enough slack to wrench free.
It's not really a pretty process. The lower portion of his arm is an irritated red and a tad scraped up after he tears it out of the dispenser. And the way he fumbles backwards with the momentum is... less than graceful.
But, once he spreads out on his back and takes a calming breath, he finds himself in a much better mood. "Well. Look who saved the day."
Party's leaning just enough on Ghoul that he loses his balance and falls on top of him, which is really just fine. It's not like he's worried about Ghoul's personal space or anything.
The scrapes he's a little worried about, though. Pain's just pain, but he's always got to be wary of infection out in the zones. It's not like they have an easy supply of meds. Getting them is almost more life-risking than just hoping your body will fight it off on its own. He's got some grain alcohol in the trunk of the car that was supposed to be for drinking, but is now for disinfecting apparently.
"You better think more before you go cramming your arm into stuff next time." He looms over Ghoul, not quite ready to let him up yet.
"Gotta do something stupid every once in a while. You're cute when you play hero." Ghoul aims a devilish grin up at him. Yeah, maybe if he makes it about Party instead of his own temporary lack of judgement, it'll cut down a little on the embarrassment.
Which would do no good if Party spreads the story, he realizes.
All of a sudden, the playful look on his face melts away to something much more grave. His sore hand flexes a time or two before both arms reach up, fingers digging in to the material of Party's jacket as Ghoul grips his shoulders firmly and gives him a light jostle. "Listen, for real. This shit stays between us, you hear me? No gossip."
He puckers his lips at Ghoul when he gets called cute. That alone is going to get some teasing, because it's not every day that someone just lets him play hero like that without any resistance.
Then Ghoul has to go and ruin it and all it does is make Party smirk. "What'll you give my cute ass for my silence, baby?"
Here it goes. Negotiations. Ghoul pulls his arms back again, crossing them over his chest while he stares up at Party thoughtfully. "Name your price." It's easier (and possibly safer) to make him outline his own terms, but on the other hand...
Oh. Oh, yeah. Party's overwhelmed with the possibilities. Testing boundaries is practically a hobby for him and he's not even sure where to start with this.
"Anything I want?"
He grins down at Ghoul like the cat that caught the canary, like Ghoul is his next meal and he's been fucking starving.
As soon as he sees that grin, Ghoul feels a sinking sensation in his stomach. What the fuck has he done. He knows better, but he can't take it back now. Or can he.
"Maybe," he says cautiously. It's not too late for some degree of damage control. "I get two veto calls."
Party can definitely come up with at least three worthwhile things that will piss Ghoul off.
"Yeah, okay." He leans down to kiss Ghoul's forehead with a loud, smacking sound and then he pushes himself up to his feet. "C'mon. Been sittin' in one place too long as it is."
He bends just enough to offer Ghoul a hand up. It's one thing to be still in a place they've secured, but there are strangers here and a patrol could come through any time. It's best to keep moving in unknown territory.
"Two vetoes and then you gotta do the third thing, so you better use 'em smart."
Well, fuck. Party agreed to that easily enough. Now Ghoul regrets not pushing for three vetoes. Deal's already been sealed with a kiss and everything, though, which Ghoul waves away with a quick fan of his hand.
Once Party offers to help him off the ground he strains upwards until he's got his fingers clamped around his wrist. "I don't have to use a veto at all, y'know. You could maybe just not ask for weird shit." As soon as he's upright again, he starts making his way back towards the car, brushing the dust off himself as he goes.
"My requests ain't weird. You ever think you're maybe just a little delicate?" He laughs as he saunters after Ghoul, steps wide enough to catch up, but not rushed.
As he reaches to his pocket for the keys, he takes a second to run his fingers over his ray gun. It's a solid presence at his hip that's a comfort in the face of all the things out here that could kill them. Feeling pinned down, even for a minute, makes him itch like he's been rolling around in an anthill or something.
He clicks his tongue, shooting a slightly miffed look over his shoulder while Party's still lagging behind. "Delicate, my ass."
When Party pulls up beside him, it's just in time for Ghoul to catch a glimpse of him petting at his gun. He steals a quick look at his face, quietly watching for a couple steps, then he knocks against Party's side lightly with his elbow. Just enough pressure to bring him back down to earth, before he gets lost in the hundreds of hypothetical scenarios based around everything that could go wrong out here.
He'll be all right once they get in the car, Ghoul figures, but it can't hurt to provide a little extra distraction. "You find anything good inside?"
For all his quick thoughts and paranoid fears, Party's never been good at picking up on anyone's subtleties enough to realize that Ghoul can pick up on his train of thought, but he bumps back, a bit less gently than Ghoul had bumped him.
"Got a few cans of Pup and some other basic shit. Nothin' too exciting." His hand goes for the driver's side door as they walk up to it, but then he stops. "Do we gotta disinfect any of that?"
Ghoul must be pleased with the reaction he gets. He splits off from Party's side without fuss, walking an arc around the front of the car (because he is, apparently, forbidden from sliding across the hood anymore) as he makes his way to the passenger side.
While he goes along, he answers with a chipper, "Nope," a little too quickly and stuffs the hand in question in to his pocket, as if hiding it from sight will make Party forget about it.
If Party doesn't look convinced, it's only because he isn't. He'll check Ghoul's hand when they get somewhere private, because he'll be damned if he's letting Ghoul die from a stupid infection because he's too proud to let Party tease him a little.
"Just get in the car." The idiot is implied as he climbs into his own seat.
Ghoul doesn't respond verbally, but he does give Party a weird little self-satisfied sneer over the top of the car like he thinks he's won or something. He flings the door open and settles in to the front seat soon after Party climbs in, privately excited about getting to ride shotgun all day long. It's the small things in life.
Once he's in, the seatbelt, if it's even still there anymore, naturally gets absolutely none of his attention. Rather, he pulls the door shut and then leans over towards the driver's side, poking two of his fingertips in beneath Party's ribs. "You know what you wanna ask for yet? I feel like shooting somethin' down."
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"Tell me you ain't holdin' onto anything in there." He'd like to think Ghoul's smarter than that, but having basically raised Kobra, he's used to expecting feats of stupidity at the worst times. "If you're holdin' anything, you let go now and we'll just pretend I saved your arm and get on with our day."
Of course they both know he's lying and he'll never let Ghoul forget this no matter what.
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The expression on his face quickly goes completely blank, though, before he levels Party with a dead stare. "You kiddin' me? How stupid d'you think I am?" Okay, no, bad question to ask right now. Ghoul realizes he doesn't want an answer to that one, and begins speaking again before Party gets a chance to say something sassy. "Ain't got anything in my hand, okay?"
To demonstrate, he flaps it around inside the belly of the machine. There's nothing to see, of course, but there's a soft thumping sound for a couple seconds before Ghoul flinches and quits. "There's- I dunno, a trap door or some shit. I can push up but it bites down if I pull back."
That's descriptive. Bravo.
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"Stay still." He says as if he's giving Ghoul much of a choice.
Carefully, he slips his hand up into the hole to the trap mechanism. He pushes at it carefully with the tips of his fingers. "Feelin' any slack in there yet?"
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At first, he doesn't feel anything. He's halfway to saying as much- but Party's on the right track. After a few more seconds, Ghoul perks up. "Hold on, I can get it right there." He should let Party loosen it up a bit more, but god damnit, Ghoul is done now. The fit is still tight around the bones of his wrist, but if he twists his hand just so, it gives him barely enough slack to wrench free.
It's not really a pretty process. The lower portion of his arm is an irritated red and a tad scraped up after he tears it out of the dispenser. And the way he fumbles backwards with the momentum is... less than graceful.
But, once he spreads out on his back and takes a calming breath, he finds himself in a much better mood. "Well. Look who saved the day."
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The scrapes he's a little worried about, though. Pain's just pain, but he's always got to be wary of infection out in the zones. It's not like they have an easy supply of meds. Getting them is almost more life-risking than just hoping your body will fight it off on its own. He's got some grain alcohol in the trunk of the car that was supposed to be for drinking, but is now for disinfecting apparently.
"You better think more before you go cramming your arm into stuff next time." He looms over Ghoul, not quite ready to let him up yet.
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Which would do no good if Party spreads the story, he realizes.
All of a sudden, the playful look on his face melts away to something much more grave. His sore hand flexes a time or two before both arms reach up, fingers digging in to the material of Party's jacket as Ghoul grips his shoulders firmly and gives him a light jostle. "Listen, for real. This shit stays between us, you hear me? No gossip."
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Then Ghoul has to go and ruin it and all it does is make Party smirk. "What'll you give my cute ass for my silence, baby?"
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Party should never be given that much power.
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"Anything I want?"
He grins down at Ghoul like the cat that caught the canary, like Ghoul is his next meal and he's been fucking starving.
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As soon as he sees that grin, Ghoul feels a sinking sensation in his stomach. What the fuck has he done. He knows better, but he can't take it back now. Or can he.
"Maybe," he says cautiously. It's not too late for some degree of damage control. "I get two veto calls."
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"Yeah, okay." He leans down to kiss Ghoul's forehead with a loud, smacking sound and then he pushes himself up to his feet. "C'mon. Been sittin' in one place too long as it is."
He bends just enough to offer Ghoul a hand up. It's one thing to be still in a place they've secured, but there are strangers here and a patrol could come through any time. It's best to keep moving in unknown territory.
"Two vetoes and then you gotta do the third thing, so you better use 'em smart."
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Once Party offers to help him off the ground he strains upwards until he's got his fingers clamped around his wrist. "I don't have to use a veto at all, y'know. You could maybe just not ask for weird shit." As soon as he's upright again, he starts making his way back towards the car, brushing the dust off himself as he goes.
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As he reaches to his pocket for the keys, he takes a second to run his fingers over his ray gun. It's a solid presence at his hip that's a comfort in the face of all the things out here that could kill them. Feeling pinned down, even for a minute, makes him itch like he's been rolling around in an anthill or something.
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When Party pulls up beside him, it's just in time for Ghoul to catch a glimpse of him petting at his gun. He steals a quick look at his face, quietly watching for a couple steps, then he knocks against Party's side lightly with his elbow. Just enough pressure to bring him back down to earth, before he gets lost in the hundreds of hypothetical scenarios based around everything that could go wrong out here.
He'll be all right once they get in the car, Ghoul figures, but it can't hurt to provide a little extra distraction. "You find anything good inside?"
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"Got a few cans of Pup and some other basic shit. Nothin' too exciting." His hand goes for the driver's side door as they walk up to it, but then he stops. "Do we gotta disinfect any of that?"
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While he goes along, he answers with a chipper, "Nope," a little too quickly and stuffs the hand in question in to his pocket, as if hiding it from sight will make Party forget about it.
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"Just get in the car." The idiot is implied as he climbs into his own seat.
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Once he's in, the seatbelt, if it's even still there anymore, naturally gets absolutely none of his attention. Rather, he pulls the door shut and then leans over towards the driver's side, poking two of his fingertips in beneath Party's ribs. "You know what you wanna ask for yet? I feel like shooting somethin' down."