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bellamy blake. ([personal profile] deployed) wrote in [community profile] station72 2016-08-06 06:29 pm (UTC)

[ It's not the connection he'd been expecting. Bellamy flinches against the feedback, but obeys. Even in the haze of illness, the urgency of the situation can't be forgotten. He's not moving fast enough, and even with the increasing noise in his head, he still isn't certain that the footsteps he can hear echoing beneath the din are going to be friendly.

The sight of Nirad and the wash of red light from his hand provoke a single, hysterical thought in response: That's not exactly what I meant when I asked for a hand.

But the hilarity passes quickly. Nirad's fingers dig in to Bellamy's bicep, but it's reassuring. He grabs for hold in return, using Nirad to steady himself. ]


What about the others? [ He asks, even as he falls into step with Nirad. ] Are the others out?

[ Second to the apprehensive realization that he's going to have to keep pace one way or another without falling over. He's going to slow Nirad down. That's an unpleasant thought. ]

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