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“What good is livin’ a life you’ve been given if all you do is stand in one place?”

[ Intro post ]

Grayson West.

Information under the cut ↴

#cod oc rp blog #cod oc ask blog #cod oc #cod oc blog #I have little to no proper lore for this guy #he’s just here to make bad jokes and act sort of fatherly #Jackal’s.txt #Mod’s.txt

wonderful-rp-resources

send one for my muse’s reaction to your muse ---

Alternatively, send ‘ + ‘ after the symbol for the roles to be reversed where possible! Please specify the muse for multimuses!

✘ = hugging them.

Δ = playing with their hair.

❤ = kissing them.

₪ = asking them out for dinner.

☀ = giving them a gift of _ ( asker’s choice ) .

♘ = stabbing them.

♕ = bowing down before them.

♒ = lying to them.

✿ = buying them flowers.

☾ = being found shirtless.

♢ = reading them a story.

☂ = giving them their jumper to keep warm.

✎ = speaking in a different language.

✏ = teaching them a different language.

▄ = telling them a joke.

♬ = singing to them.

☹ = insulting a loved one.

ஐ = slapping them.

✂ = threatening them.

❃ = dancing with them.

▤ = falling asleep on them.

☮ = waking them up after a nightmare.

♣ = discovering them crying.

回 = patching a wound.

✮ = stargazing.

▓ = caught stealing their belongings.

☽ = wandering alone at night.

♡ = complimenting them.

≡ = offering a place to stay overnight.

☢ = falling over.

✦ = being well-dressed.

❂ = wiping blood off their face.

◎ = taking care of them while ill.

☁ = being caught in the middle of a storm with them.

⇕ = holding their hand.

↱ = being lost with them.

☠ = pushing them against a wall.

#cod oc rp blog #cod oc blog #cod ocs #cod oc ask blog #cod oc #cod rp blog

aurora-rph

Send a ☂️ to show up at my muses door soaked through from the rain.

Send a 🩸 to show up at my muses door bleeding from an injury.

Send a 🥡 to show up at my muses door with food.

#cod oc rp blog #cod oc blog #cod ocs #cod oc ask blog #cod oc #rp meme

ask-the-old-jackal

It's quiet. Neither of them have said a word ever since it happened; them being stuck together. "Well..." Avora clears her throat and averts her gaze, trying to look for a way out of there. "It looks like we're stuck here together..." She sounds less than amused as the words leave her mouth. This isn't an ideal situation and it could've been prevented, too. (Thinking it's a mission gone wrong. Enemies trapped together? hehe. Could be a cave in, a car accident or anything like that!)

Grayson has experienced more than a few years worth of unexpected scenarios in his line of work, so somewhere along the line he learned to stop being surprised.

Though he had to admit, he kind of hoped he’d end up in less situations after transferring units.

But of course, life doesn’t always go as planned.

Getting stuck under a pile of rubble, with only the body of an overturned supply truck keeping it from caving in completely, and his only company being a woman working for the opposing side of the current war wasn’t exactly on his to-do list for the day.

He was only meant to be the driver, not engaging directly in combat, but one explosive led to another and… here they were.

It had all happened so quickly, but as far as he knew, they’d both just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He sighs, looking again around the cramped and dark space for a solution. He held a small flashlight in his hand, one he keeps on him for emergencies. So at least they could see.

Dust and debris floated around the space, and the chances of them getting free of this themselves seemed… slim.

“Seems so…” Grayson grumbles. “Could be worse, I suppose. At least we’re not on fire.”

Despite the fact Avora was the enemy, he still bothered to give her a once over for visible injuries after checking himself over.

He held a palm over the flashlight’s head, keeping it pointed downward to refrain from shining the light directly at her eyes. A common courtesy.

“Are you hurt?”

sergreantmakarova

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was an easy job, but of course, it went south and when Avora came to, she found herself trapped in an overturned truck with the enemy… It’s dark and she can hardly see, until Grayson turns a flashlight on. A small click in the dark and the light beams, which forces her to squint and nearly blinds her. That’s when she realizes the truck is upside down… Now, given the position Avora is in, it’s hard to tell if she’s actually okay or if something is wrong. It doesn’t help that her adrenaline has kicked into high gear, effectively masking any and all pain she might’ve been in. “No, we’re not on fire, but we’re trapped under something…” She murmurs as she starts to check herself for injuries. It’s not until Avora tries to move one of her legs that she realizes her left one is stuck between the the door, which has collapsed inward, and her seat, pinned there by rebar that pierced through skin and bone. She doesn’t try to free herself, knowing that they likely don’t have the tools to aid with the blood loss to come. “I’m fine.” Avora doesn’t want to admit that something is wrong, least of all to someone in the 1-4-1. An admission of injury is probably the same as saying, ‘go on and put a bullet in my head, please.’ That’s not something she wants to do, nor is this a position she’s meant to be in right now. She breathes out slowly, moving one hand to try and tug at the rebar to see if it might budge, but it doesn’t. This is… Great in a way that only ends poorly for everyone involved. Avora gives up after a few minutes of trying to tug at the bar—it’s not going to move, not without a power tool or if Grayson helps her pull on it. She doesn’t ask when she reaches over and takes the flashlight from the Irish man, using it to assess her injury. It doesn’t look good… Rebar through any part of the body is never a good thing, especially when it means limited mobility. It’s through her shin, which already appears to be in bad shape, but she has yet to feel an ounce of pain. Her adrenaline is still doing its thing. Masking every bit of pain. “We need to get out of here… Do you see any way out?” Desperation clings to Avora’s words as they leave her mouth. “And are you hurt…?” There it is. A glimmer of worry flashing in her eyes as she looks him over, keeping her hands to herself—this is out of character for her. What he doesn’t know is that she’s making sure he’s okay, not for his sake, but her own. If he’s hurt, then he won’t be nearly as useful to her as he is otherwise.

ask-the-old-jackal

Grayson doesn’t protest when she snatches the flashlight from his hands, but he does huff quietly. Making a vague hand gesture of ‘go ahead’ after she’d already taken it.

He attempts to adjust his position somewhat. The drivers side of the truck offered limited room now though, especially for someone of his height.

He got lucky not having any limbs pinned in the crash, but the ache in his side, and a swipe of his thumb across the blood trickling from his forehead suggested he wasn’t unscathed either.

He was definitely going to feel this later.

He watches Avora closely in the dark, assessing, as the metal body of the vehicle creaks and pops around them every so often, a grim reminder of the weight bearing down on it from above.

Trying to get out from inside would be difficult. Even if they manage to get a door open, it could potentially cause the rubble overhead to shift and make matters worse.

Grayson scans the wreck interior again.

Maybe one of the windows? The glass had all but shattered for most of them, if there was enough space to squeeze through without something blocking the way it might be their best option.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Avora spoke, turning to look back at her. The concern he saw on her face wasn’t something he took personally, assuming instead that it was directed at the situation in general.

He knew where they both stood.

They were not comrades.

Even so, she was still a person in this moment, and they needed to help each other if they wanted to get free.

“I’ve survived worse. It’s nothing too brutal.”

He pauses.

It may be dark, but in this proximity Avora can’t completely hide the fact that she’s injured. Or, at the very least, stuck. Grayson noticed it the moment she started shifting around earlier, and confirmed it when she failed to properly move.

“Unfortunately can’t say the same for you, miss.”

That acknowledgment sat between them like a silent weight for a few long seconds.

After a moment, Grayson automatically began to lean over to get a better understanding of her situation.

sergreantmakarova

The sound of the metal groaning beneath the rubble is unsettling. It only serves to make Avora more anxious than she already is. She places the flashlight back into Grayson’s hands before grabbing the rebar with both hands. It’s a frantic attempt at trying to pry it free, but it doesn’t budge. Between the doorframe and her shin, the rebar is jammed, stuck in a position where it won’t move without extreme force.

Under normal circumstances, she might have been able to maintain her composure and keep herself calm, but they were in an overturned vehicle and buried underneath rubble. If they don’t act quickly, they will both die and it won’t be painless.

Avora forces in a deep breath and takes another break from trying to free herself. It’s just not working and she’s too stubborn to ask for help, least of all from a person she tried to kill. He is supposed to be dead…

Not alive. Not breathing. Just a dead corpse on the ground, but here he is… Alive, breathing and trying to assess her injuries.

When Grayson tries to lean in closer to get a better look, Avora instinctively shoves him back, which in turn causes her shin to shift. That elicits a groan of pain and her eyes to tear up. “Don’t! I can handle it by myself!” She forces herself to focus back on the bar. She takes it in both hands and starts pulling pretty frantically, even though she knows it’s no use.

“It’s stuck… It’s fucking stuck…” Avora mumbles in Russian, feeling a burning, white-hot pain beginning to radiate from her leg. It hurts so badly that she’s struggling to focus on anything else. Another sharp intake of breath and she's forcing herself to stop trying—her efforts are only making it worse. Upon exhaling, she leans back and tries to relax.

“We need to do something… I don't think the truck is going to be able to support the weight of the rubble above us for much longer…” Avora isn't sure how long they even have to try and get out of there, but she knows they have to try. “...My leg is stuck. Got rebar through my fucking shin and I don't know how to get it out.” Her voice drops in volume out of shame. The acknowledgement that something is wrong only makes her feel vulnerable.

“If you're going to kill me, then get it over with now.” Avora doesn't look at Grayson again when she speaks. She doesn't want to give him that satisfaction. “Otherwise… if you're going to help me, then we… Have to work together.” A few loose shards of glass skid across the metal frame of the truck when she adjusts herself.

ask-the-old-jackal

When Avora shoves him back, Grayson puts his hands up placatingly. He doesn’t try again right away, despite the time sensitive nature of their predicament.

Instead, he takes a moment to recognize her panic. She was holding herself together pretty well, but it was also obvious that she’s beginning to feel the pain of her injuries, and she’s not as calm as she’s trying to be.

He watches as she forces herself to relax, but the signs of distress are still clearly visible on her face even in the dim lighting.

When she speaks, he listens until she’s finished, looking at her like her words matter right now even if she’s technically one of the last people he should be extending empathy to.

Roles didn’t matter so much here; survival did.

“Look.. I’m gonna help you, miss.” He says with certainty, his voice coming across more level than hers. An effort to calm her down, maybe.

Or maybe it’s simply his own training coming into play, keeping himself calm in order to sort this out.

“Take some breaths.” He waited a moment for her to do so, even if she might glare or scoff at him for the suggestion.

“Right. If they didn’t get crushed, there should be some bolt cutters in this truck somewhere. I’m gonna try to find them. Alright?”

Grayson knew the tool was in here somewhere with the rest of the cargo, it was meant to be a part of the supply delivery. If they were salvageable—or reachable—he could use them to get her free of the rebar.

Then they’d figure it out from there.

Carefully, he shifted onto his knees and elbows to crawl back towards what remained of the truck’s cargo. Moving slowly so as not to potentially shift the vehicle around and cause anything to worsen.

Glass shards and debris poked sharply against his forearms as he did so, but he ignored it. Shining the flashlight around the cramped space, looking for any sign of the tool.

All the while, the creaking and groaning of metal haunted the space.

Finally, after what felt like more minutes of searching than it was, Grayson managed to find and pull free a pair of bolt cutters from under a metal supply crate. The handle was a bit bent on one side, but other than that they were in working condition.

He shifts back towards Avora shortly after.

Maneuvering into an upright position, he hands the flashlight to her.

“Hold this for me, will you?”

sergreantmakarova

Calming down feels like it’s too far from Avora’s grasp, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t trying. Each draw of breath pulls her closer while every ounce of pain only puts her back where she started, which was the beginning stages. This only adds annoyance to the mix and that alone makes her feel worse. “I have a name. Why do you keep calling me ‘miss’?” Avora sounds frustrated, having grown tired of Grayson referring to her as ‘miss’. It doesn’t matter why he’s doing it. “I won’t say no to help…” Her tone shifts. Softer, somewhat calmer than before, even though panic lays just beneath the surface. Still there. Barely gone. Just no longer the primary focus. “You want me to take some fucking breaths when there is a chunk of rebar in my fucking leg?!” Avora snaps at Grayson when he makes that suggestion. Breathing isn’t exactly easy, given the intense pain and the fact that they were buried underneath a bunch of rubble. There’s no telling if they’ll even be able to escape without being crushed to death. This didn’t go according to plan. If anything, it went sideways—the detonator she had was broken and the explosive didn’t go off either. When she got into Grayson’s cargo truck, she tried to use her gun against him, but it jammed. A bullet lodged somewhere in the chamber where it wasn’t supposed to be, then the accident. The truck flying through the air and landing on its roof, followed by rubble from an explosion—the causation was unknown, even now. It’s unclear if it was anything to do with the explosives Avora came with or if someone else attacked them… There’s no time to figure that out or play a game of semantics. No, those details will come later. “Please hurry.” Avora takes her eyes off of Grayson, only listening as he crawls to the back of the truck, shifting around shards of glass and loose debris. It’s so dark that even if she wanted to watch, she can’t; all she will see is the darkness as it swallows him whole. All the while, she’s trying to calm herself down… The next few minutes feel like an eternity to Avora. Passing slowly, but when it’s finally over, she’s thankful. “Can you promise me something? I know it’s tempting… I know how badly you probably want to do it, but can you let me walk away after this?” She knows it’s not likely that he’ll let her leave—considering how Price has been on the hunt for her. “Let me walk and I will leave you alone.” Whether it’s true or not is up for debate. It’s up to Grayson as if he believes her or if he thinks she’s a goddamn liar… Avora takes the flashlight and holds it up for Grayson, waiting for him to cut the rebar. "Let's get this over with..."

ask-the-old-jackal

Grayson paused, meeting her eyes for a moment.

His head tilts to the side with a somewhat incredulous look.

“You tried to shoot me not even an hour ago.”

He may be willing to momentarily look past that detail to help her out of this so she doesn’t end up with the unfortunate fate of being crushed to death, but he definitely hasn’t forgotten it.

“Not to mention, I doubt you’ll be capable of walking very far with that leg.” He gestures to her injury.

The metal around them groans again, shaking loose more dust from overhead and interrupting any bickering before it could begin.

Grayson reacted swiftly, moving to position the bolt cutters over the bent shape of the rebar about an inch or two from where it spears Avora’s leg.

It’s is not an easy feat, even with the bolt cutters. The metal is strong, and it takes some strain on Grayson’s end to get it to give. The first attempt fails, but he just adjusts his grip and tries again.

Granted he is attempting this in a very awkward position, and with minor injuries of his own that aren’t doing him any favors.

Luckily, on the second try the rebar snaps in half, leaving a piece of it still lodged in Avora’s leg, but it’s no longer pinning her to the spot.

“There,” Grayson drops the tool aside. “Now will you let me help you move so we can get free? Or are you going to hurt yourself further by being a stubborn chancer?”

If she lets him, he will try to make it marginally less painful for her and hopefully more efficient for both of them on the way out.

While searching for the tool earlier he’d spotted at least one broken window near the back with enough space left between the frame and the ground for them to crawl out of, but that window is on the route to closing—literally and figuratively. If the truck’s body collapses any further it won’t be possible to squeeze through.

Cooperation was critical.

sergreantmakarova

“Can you overlook that? Just this once?” Avora knows it’s a ridiculous ask, but it’s crucial that she at least tries. “It won’t… I won’t try to shoot you again. Does that help?” Trusting her is like trusting a boat with a bunch of holes in it not to sink—it isn’t going to work out, not in Grayson’s favor. She’s going to try again in the future. When the metal around them shifts, causing dust and debris to pick up, an unsettling panic sets back in, only this time it’s harder to manage than before. “I will be fine.” Avora adjusts herself, moving herself to the side to allow Grayson to move forward with the bolt cutters and clamped them over the rebar. It’s a little close to her injury, but it’s better than leaving the metal rod attached to whatever it’s stuck on. This is only going to hurt… She braces herself. “Just do it! Cut the rebar!” Avora isn’t asking, she’s telling Grayson what to do; she’s terrified of being crushed to death and the longer he takes, the more likely it will become a reality. It takes him two tries before the rebar finally snaps, allowing gravity to take over and pull her leg down. That alone causes pain, but she’s not complaining—her leg is free. That matters more than whatever pain she’s experiencing. The tool clatters to the ground—the sound jarring and sharper than it should've been. “Thank you.” Avora mumbles in Russian, underneath her breath. “Fine… I will let you help me move, so we can get the fuck out of here. Did you find an exit?” That’s important. Another detail that’ll guarantee their survival. “I will cooperate.” She promises as she braces herself to move with Grayson’s help, which is something she’s reluctant about accepting, but without him, she’ll die. There’s no doubt about that. “How do we get out of here, then?” She’s glancing around through the dark, trying to see if she can spot an exit point, until she sees a bit of light pooling in through the back of the truck. It’s not entirely noticeable upon first glance, but if you look close enough, you’ll see it. Avora opens her mouth to say something, but instead of doing so, she bites her tongue and waits for Grayson to help her out of there.

ask-the-old-jackal

“Good.”

He nods, grateful at least that she didn’t argue with him further.

In the next few moments Grayson helps Avora move through what remained of the vehicle. Offering her what support he can in the difficult scenario, so her injury doesn’t completely hinder her as they crawl their way to the only visible exit point.

Once they reach the window, Grayson shifts forward quickly to assess. He shoves aside a few bits of debris and shattered glass to make the squeeze as manageable as possible.

From what they can see through the opening, there is nothing blocking the outside—for now. It’s still a tight fit, with the window frame bending in on itself. But it’s their only option.

“Ladies first.”

He helps Avora through as best he can, as much as she lets him anyway. She may very well try to kill him again in the future, he doesn’t doubt that, but right now that thought doesn’t stop him from doing what comes to him naturally; helping those with worse injuries first.

#jackal’s.txt #this one is a bit shorter bc I wanted you to be able to write Avora’s pov of the escape #the next one will be longer 👍#cod oc blog #cod ocs #cod oc rp blog

pnglove

Mate, you’ve got a chubby lizard on your dashboard