Dustin Silver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quark_assassin) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
revivalproject2022-07-19 02:15 pm
quark_assassin) wrote in revivalproject2022-07-19 02:15 pm
Two Weird Planets
WHO: Dustin, Felwinter, Tony, the Palm Cottage crew, and OPEN
WHERE: The Charcoal Star Map Roof in Temba, crew quarters on the Palm Cottage, various crafting guilds, the Eorzean wilds, and the Gold Saucer
WHAT: Curiosities, Crabbiness, Collecting, Crafting, and Cards
WHEN: First prompt is backdated to an evening in early July; the rest take place throughout the Eorzea event, July 17th - August 10th.
WARNINGS: Dustin is mean and uses mean words. Also, there might be violence/injury if monsters (or guards??) get involved on some of these quests.
NOTES: An outfit for the event!
1. Northwestern Temba Rooftops [Closed to Felwinter]
2. Palm Cottage Crew Quarters [Closed to Palm Cottage Crew]
3. Gridania Crafting Guilds [OTA]
4. Ul'dah Crafting Guilds [OTA]
5. Limsa Lominsa Crafting Guilds/Markets [OTA]
6. Eorzean Wilds [OTA]
7. Gold Saucer [One thread for Tony, all others OTA]
WHERE: The Charcoal Star Map Roof in Temba, crew quarters on the Palm Cottage, various crafting guilds, the Eorzean wilds, and the Gold Saucer
WHAT: Curiosities, Crabbiness, Collecting, Crafting, and Cards
WHEN: First prompt is backdated to an evening in early July; the rest take place throughout the Eorzea event, July 17th - August 10th.
WARNINGS: Dustin is mean and uses mean words. Also, there might be violence/injury if monsters (or guards??) get involved on some of these quests.
NOTES: An outfit for the event!
1. Northwestern Temba Rooftops [Closed to Felwinter]
It's been a week. And, just like they'd agreed, Dustin is here - specifically, on the roof he and Felwinter had previously met. The familiar campfire has been lit to signal his presence, though its base is a lot neater than it has been; it rained yesterday, ruining the residual charcoal pile and washing away nearly two weeks of star map work in the process.
The boy who'd spent so much time drawing these maps is, perhaps, understandably perturbed - but not actually for that reason. Rather, as he paces agitatedly around the perimeter of the roof, the only thing going through his head is how he won't be able to keep up his end of the deal.
So fucking stupid. Dustin viciously kicks a piece of loose pavement in his path. Making promises I can't keep. Dumbass. I don't even know if he'll be pissed or not. I just wanna get this shit over with and go to sleep.
He pauses, casting a harried glance over the roof's edge.
Where the fuck is he?
2. Palm Cottage Crew Quarters [Closed to Palm Cottage Crew]
When the Palm Cottage and her crew slip into orbit around Eorzea and receive their directions for planet-side, Dustin does not leave the ship. Instead, he grabs the items the Agrii have left for him in his labeled chest, glances at the note with glassy eyes, stuffs it in his pocket and stomps his way back to crew quarters in silence.
In fact, Dustin's been pretty quiet the whole trip. Too busy sulking. His first time in space--fucking space--and he can't even enjoy it because the Agrii forced him here. They really do seem to have a knack for pissing in his cereal. So Dustin spends his time thinking about the best way to get back at them, and by the end of their journey he's settled on a protest of inaction. Any precious seconds he can spend not doing what the Agrii want him to do are victories, by Dustin's estimation. They can get some other sucker to go fuck around for their 'Seek Rats' or whatever. Not this guy.
He wastes the whole first day like this. A lot of it is spent just laying on the top bunk he's claimed, long since devoid of sheets that he stole on day one, tossing the bundled shawl of the outfit the Agrii provided him at the ceiling.
Thump. Thump.
That's definitely not going to get annoying.
3. Gridania Crafting Guilds [OTA]
Thankfully, Dustin's fit of petulance doesn't last long. By the second day he's on the ground like most everyone else.
He's surprised at how quickly he's able to find a place here. The concept of having to massage a population of strangers into giving him intel is daunting, to say the least, which is why Dustin immediately notices how ready the locals are to give him work. They peddle quests like merchants, flagging down passerby, talking loudly about their misgivings, never seeming to care about supply of potential applicants. They even have honest-to-god quest markers. To call the experience 'surreal' would be an understatement.
Dustin ends up having to turn down the first few requests, realizing quickly that he's not equipped to handle the monster-slaying or rumor-mongering needs of these people, but it doesn't take him too long to find something much more achievable: Apprentice woodworking. And from there, the whole world opens up to him.
The biggest hurdle is the tools. The Eorzeans don't use the same sorts of equipment that Dustin is used to for probably obvious reasons, though that equipment also appears to operate with different laws of physics, too. 'Magic,' apparently. All he knows is that this saw he's been given is too light and big to handle the whittling work he's able to squeeze out of it, yet here he is, gently shaping the curved end of a longbow with it like he's handling a precision carving knife. This shit just works and it's incredible.
Dustin does most of his carpentry (and eventually leatherworking) outside, on the small terraces facing the large, dark forest that surrounds Gridania. People wander past, but they don't bother him. The locals go about their business with a silent dignity that Dustin appreciates; perhaps they, too, just want to be in their own head, appreciating the simple beauty of this untouched wilderness.
His fellow spies from Agra-10, on the other hand, are probably not so quiet.
4. Ul'dah Crafting Guilds [OTA]
Dustin does not find Ul'dah nearly so pleasant.
Yes, it has more crafting professions for him to volunteer at. Yes, one of those is motherfucking alchemy. But also it's loud, full of little greasy merchants, and his customers keep riding his ass about meeting deadlines and cutting material costs and other stupid shit that Dustin does not have the patience for. However, for everything that Ul'dah lacks in decorum, it makes up for in quality of information. Dustin cannot fault the locals for their respect in coin and their diligence to follow up on debts paid. His crafting quests here have paid out twice as well as the ones in Gridania.
That being said, he doesn't want to spend any more time around them than he absolutely has to, so most of his days in Ul'dah are spent in the guilds proper. He finds that the Alchemists' Guild calls to him moreso than the others. The underpinnings of basic chemistry spun with something else is absolutely mesmerizing, enough that it helps to block out all the noise of the bustling stalls outside. Or the fact that he's in the company of someone else from Agra-10. Face down over a mortar and pestle, partially-made health potion bubbling over a flame nearby, Dustin reaches out a free hand to where he knows he set aside that water shard. It's missing now. He frowns at the table and, not looking up, snaps his fingers in the direction of the missing ingredient.
"Hey. I need that. Give it back."
5. Limsa Lominsa Crafting Guilds/Markets [OTA]
Limsa Lominsa is a unique blend of exciting jobs and absolute chaos. Dustin settles into being both an armorer and a blacksmith very well - especially so with blacksmithing, a job that he doubts he would ever have the constitution to perform without the assistance of magical tools - however the company that he finds himself in when he tries to sell to the market, or find an isolated place to work by the docks, is...questionable. Something about being surrounded by pirates makes him feel nervous. Sure, they're all very friendly and helpful pirates that he knows are being strong-armed by the local government into cooperating, but they wouldn't stick with the name if they didn't at least partially adhere to the definition, right?
In any case, Dustin is very paranoid at all times here and he constantly feels like he's being tailed. Maybe he is? He hasn't been yet, but today could be the day. It's the primary thought running through his head as he deals with the vendor currently trying to haggle a price for the set of simple leather armor he's trying to sell them. Dustin knows he's being scalped at the current offer and he couldn't care less. He feels so many eyes on the back of his neck right now.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Dustin hisses at the hapless merchant, shoulders hunched as he quickly pushes the roughly-bundled armor over the booth's counter. "Just take it, would you? I'm--I'm in a hurry."
6. Eorzean Wilds [OTA]
Alongside crafting stuff comes gathering stuff, and Eorzea provides on this front, too. There are plenty of people Dustin finds that have quests related to finding unique items out in the wilderness, with just as many willing to let him keep any extra materials he comes across along the way. The related guilds even loan him specialized tools for the job. He supposes he should be thankful for all of this generosity.
But there's a catch.
All of the best gathering spots seem to be inevitably patrolled by monsters. It makes a kind of sense, Dustin has to admit - these materials wouldn't be so sought-after if there wasn't a risk involved in procuring them, else everyone and their mother with a basic pickaxe would go out and dig the mountains dry. Problem is, Dustin is one of those people; he has made plenty of weapons and armor, and is even wearing some of it right now, yet he has no confidence in his ability to protect himself if he's attacked. A couple of daggers and a studded leather jacket will only get him so far without any kind of combat experience.
The only real solution to this problem is to bring someone along that can fight. Regrettably. So here he is, at the edge of town, shuffling his feet and anxiously looking around for faces he recognizes that might be headed in the same direction. Finding one, Dustin meets their eyes and tries to wave them over as subtly as possible.
"Hey! You. Where are you headed?"
Other times - well, most times really - Dustin lacks the patience to wait and tries his luck on his own. It works out well enough at first, as the simpler materials are not far off the main paths and the monsters he catches sight of are generally small and preoccupied with their own business. All he has to do is stay quiet and take his time so he doesn't draw any unwanted attention.
The first few solo ventures leave they boy emboldened. So when he goes out just a little bit further from the trail to park at an isolated pond, rumored to have rare fish in it that some merchant or other wants to cook for his fiance, Dustin is maybe a touch too confident that the local wildlife will leave him alone.
He is mistaken.
Diving out of the way from a swiped tail, Dustin abandons his fishing pole and scrambles for the rocks bordering the water. He's being menaced by some kind of giant, very angry salamander, either territorial or hungry or both. Honestly Dustin can't be bothered for those sorts of details right now.
Shit shit shit! He skids to a stop and presses his back to the cool stone, desperately trying to control his panicked breathing. Way too close. Fuck! How am I supposed to shake this thing?!
On the other side, Dustin hears the heavy footfalls of the salamander following his path up the slope.
Fuck!!
7. Gold Saucer [One thread for Tony, all others OTA]
For Tony
A casino is the last place Dustin expected to find himself. He'd never be caught dead gambling - it's a statistically ruinous waste of money, and the games that can be exploited are often a ruinous waste of time, besides. There are more useful ways for him to make money.
It's not until he gets some intel that the Gold Saucer is selling a few strange, wooden boxes as grand prizes that he starts to reconsider. Now this is something Dustin can justify sinking a bit of time into.
The unpleasantly loud and busy atmosphere is oppressive, enough to drive Dustin to look for the familiar. Scratch cards, racing, costume contests...nothing piques his interest at first. But then he stumbles on a small table in a corner, one of several like it, green-felted with a semi-circle of chairs and a dealer. Dustin slips into the crowd to observe a few hands and finds that whatever game they're playing works remarkably like blackjack. It only takes a round or so for him to memorize this foreign game's rules and card composition, which is enough for him to recognize that he could easily cheat.
Worth a try. Drawing his shawl further over his face in case this massively backfires, Dustin shuffles out of the crowd and takes a seat at the table, signaling for a hand by tapping two fingers to the velvet. As he unconsciously glances around at the rest of the contestants, one of them sees the writing on the wall (and likely his coinpurse) and returns his cards, scuttling away to the bar as the House scoops up his coin. Another man takes his place - some flashy asshole in shades. Dustin narrows his eyes at him briefly before returning his attention to the cards.
Don't need to focus on anyone else, he chides himself. Just count the cards and you'll do fine.
OTA
Later, Dustin settles on playing a game that requires a bit more hard strategy - without needing to cheat at it, anyway.
He's learned the rules of Triple Triad from various inhabitants of the three cities and, inevitably, won their cards off of all of them, so it's a pleasant surprise when he finds this deceptively simple card game being played in a tournament structure at the Gold Saucer. Easy money. It helps that the local custom is to give away one of your best cards if you lose a match, so each win Dustin accumulates makes the next one even easier.
It's starting to get a little boring, actually. Slumped back in his chair, Dustin waits for his next opponent at the gaming table, languidly scratching his head through his hair until he suddenly realizes--
--This is someone else from Agra-10. Dustin's expression shifts rapidly from boredom to surprise to blanket irritation. Looks like the fun's over.
6 - I choose violence (clearly I don't bother you enough)
It's a little quieter out this way, at least by his Ghost's radar, but both of them know that can always change in an instant. The firearm he's procured is fancier than he cares for and longer than the hand cannon he favors- but he puts up with it so long as it can shoot straight, although still no comparison to his Ace of Spades.
Fancy seems to be a definite thing around here, and even though the edges of his current disguise are frayed and worn, there's elegance in the embroidered designs and the metal embellishments and buckles that make him feel like he'd be more fitting at a ball than out here going after critters. The helmet that came with it ensured his handsome metal face wouldn't be seen, although someone had thoughtfully cut out a notch for his horn to fit through, and at least it matched the helmet that it could pass for some customization.
Coming upon the pond, it isn't difficult to get a read on the situation. An abandoned fishing pole, an agitated amphibian- Cayde's pulled his gun from its holster- the barrel alone longer than his forearm. Still, he cocks it singlehandedly and opens fire at the lumpy creature.
yaaaaas help me finish my Aya collection
The salamander, to its credit, reacts pretty quickly. Cayde's volley tags the creature in the meat of its back leg, but that doesn't seem to hinder it as it whirls around, letting out a guttural cry that shakes the fleshy lumps on its neck. Dirty water bubbles and froths in the back of its throat as its whole body braces.
This is around the time that Dustin's ears finally stop ringing enough to actually assess the new state of the fight. Pulling his checkered shawl over his head to press down his bushy hair, the teen peers carefully out from behind the pile of boulders where he's taken shelter, eyes wide and wild.
He could probably run now. A more reasonable person might. But Dustin can't - that fishing rod he dropped by the lake's edge is borrowed property from the Fishing Guild, he has to return it. No exceptions.
A second or so later, the salamander spews a jet of putrid water from its wide mouth at Cayde, spreading in a wide arc in front of it.
gotta catch 'em all
The voice is a bit muffled from the helmet, but Dustin might be able to recognize it, if not immediately then perhaps after a few more words.
The face Cayde's making at his gun can't be seen but he is not at all impressed by the thing's performance so far. He jerks his head up at his Ghost's internal warning, just in time to see that jet of water fly. He throws himself to the side, rolling clear of its reach. "Ew, gross!" He sure doesn't want to get that on his fancy clothes!!
Even as he's getting up again he takes another shot at the salamander, aiming for its head. "The balance on this thing is crap!" he grumbles as he lurches into a dash, deciding he'd rather not stand around waiting to be a target. He's not too sure how fast it can move but it's reaction time had been surprising!
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Oh goddammit, it's Cayde. In spite of his immediate disappointment, Dustin does have to admit that the strange robot man is a lot more battle competent than he expected him to be. His next shot pegs the salamander directly in the center of its forehead in spite of the fact that both of them are already on the move.
Unfortunately for both Cayde and Dustin, Eorzean wildlife is apparently made of sturdier stuff than they're used to; the bullet wound to the face just makes the monster angrier. It flails its head and tail, whip-like, all twenty feet of it aimed in some way to try and trip the Hunter as he attempts to get some distance. Dustin recognizes this move - he's got the scuffs and bruises to prove it - so now he decides that he can make himself useful.
"Close in!" yells the boy from behind the rocks. "It's trying to force you back - don't let it!"
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It seems he takes the kid's advice, moving in rather than outwards. He dashes forward towards the thing, keeping an eye out for the tail, making a leap over it during one of its passes. Again he fires, already considering alternatives. He may not have his Ace, but he can still tap into Solar...
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He knows what's coming now, too. Fuck! Dustin scrambles out from his cover before the ground has time to liquefy underfoot. The salamander's full attack is interrupted by Cayde shooting it in the back, once again demanding its attention, but the point's been made: Dustin can't expect his assistance to go unpunished.
Standing uncertainly in the middle of the path away from the lake, the boy fumbles for a dagger sheathed at his waist. I don't need to know any flashy combat maneuvers in order to stab someone. "It's gotta have a weak spot!" Dustin calls, even as the salamander whirls on Cayde and tries to bite his legs with a mouth as wide as he is tall. "Maybe its gills?!"
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-but then neither is being this close doing any good for him, he realizes. The Hunter yelps, once again surprised by how fast it can move. He'd been watching the tail and not paid close enough attention to the front-end. Unable to get completely clear, he grunts as he feels the thing's mouth close on one leg, jerking him down and back in mid-attempt to leap. If he'd still had lungs all the breath would've been knocked out of them as he slams to the ground. His hand remains stubbornly closed on his gun.
"Gills-? Ow! Damn lizard!" Cayde twists around and plants the heel of his other foot right into its snout to try getting it to release him. At the same time he levels his gun to try shooting the thing in the eye for added persuasion.
I know we're already deep into violence town BUT TW: eye injury, injuries in general, more violence
--if Dustin hadn't flung himself onto the back of its neck. He halts his sideways momentum by planting his dagger into the meat of the monster's cheek, burying the serrated blade up to the hilt, while his other hand grasps onto one of the six fleshy growths on either side of the salamander's head. It jerks and tenses but doesn't let go of the Hunter, not until Cayde steadies himself with his other leg and shoots one of its eyes out.
Now the salamander reels, roaring in a very un-salamander-like way as it bucks backwards. Dustin yelps in surprise but his mouth is forced shut when the creature arcs its neck. He bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood. What the fuck am I doing?! Shit shit shit shit this is such a bad idea!
On the other hand, their now half-blinded enemy is quite distracted with the human on its back and has completely lost track of Cayde.
...I am so bad at these warning things.
"Where is he?" he asks seemingly no one, dancing back to avoid the flailing tail that makes a pass at him. Now he can see where the boy is, latched onto the salamander as he is. Well, that makes things a little harder, but Cayde appreciates a gutsy move like that. He maneuvers around the thing, checking his gun.
The Hunter makes his move, coming from the creature's blind side. He can feel his leg twinge and shifts his weight to his other leg as he makes the leap, grabbing onto another of the salamander's fleshy head-bits, bracing with his feet as he prepares for the thing to lurch. It's the best way he can figure to make sure his next shots hit their mark and not the poor kid by accident.
His gunhand rises upwards, for a moment giving him the impression of a cowboy riding a bucking bronco- on completely the wrong side. A split-second later the gun- and Cayde- ignites in golden flames, and he brings the barrel to bear upon the side of the salamander's head. He opens fire- literally, with several blazing shots.
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The fleshy nodules that he suspects are its gills are similarly difficult to keep a hold of. It only takes a couple of especially aggressive shakes to dislodge Dustin's hand, leaving just one anchored to the knife in the salamander's face. Cayde leaps onto the side the boy was just forced from, encouraging another wild flail from the monster. Cayde won't have to worry about accidentally shooting him now - Dustin is cleanly flung off this time, his white-knuckled grip on the dagger's hilt loosened only because his shoulder is wrenched with a pop and his hand spasms as a direct consequence. He yells hoarsely, tumbling into the mud, and collapses in a heap.
Thankfully, Dustin lands in a way that he can watch the spectacle that follows. The salamander doesn't have enough time to focus on throwing Cayde next before his enhanced volley connects. Multiple flesh-nobs are shredded, most of the burning shots exit the other side of the monster's head. It's not pretty. Bonelessly, without even a last cry of defiance, the salamander slumps onto the ground, clearly dead.
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Rolling his shoulders, he turns to where Dustin had landed, not quite managing to avoid a limp. Getting jerked around by the salamander had gotten something out of alignment, and he's only glad it hadn't been any worse.
"You all right?" he asks, mostly out of expectation. He'd heard the pain in that shout, and the landing the kid had taken couldn't have been any better.
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"Been better," he croaks. Flippancy makes for a better middle ground than outright admitting anything. Dustin stiffly rolls into a sit, not appearing to care that half of him is coated in mud as he runs a muck-covered hand under his overcoat, gingerly probing his shoulder. He winces and pulls away. "You're limping," Dustin points out, in a weak attempt to deflect.
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"You on the other hand had a rough landing and got jerked around something fierce even before then." He gestures. "How bad's the arm?"
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"It's--gah, fuck--it's not great." Dustin squeezes his eyes shut briefly, trying to center his swimming head, before he pivots and starts stumbling his way back to the rocky outcrop that he was hiding behind at the start of this whole mess. His gathering satchel has been abandoned at the top of the slope, which is what Dustin's aiming for. "I-I've got, ah. Healing potions. Should be fine."
He does not know if they'll be fine. Having never been hurt enough to justify using one, Dustin only has the word of the Alchemists' Guild that the recipe he's used does what they say it does. He did watch some local 'chirurgeon' use a more potent version of the same potion on someone who actually needed it, and that worked fine for them.
Well, no time like the present to test, right?
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"Not broken, is it?" he asks as he continues to survey the area. Wouldn't be great to be caught off guard by any more surprises. He rests a hand on the knife sheathed at his belt, just in case.
He's not entirely sure how well healing potions work either, but he hopes it does the trick for the kid. As Dustin makes his way, Cayde trails along after to keep an eye out. It wouldn't sit well with him to leave the guy alone like this.
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"Nah." With a groan, the boy slumps to the ground between his pack and the rocky outcrop. He doesn't get back up again - walking sucked way too much. Instead he snatches the satchel's strap in his good hand and drags it in front of him as he scoots the last few feet towards the boulders. Noises like clinking glass betray the presence of the aforementioned health potions inside.
The cool stone feels good against his back when Dustin eventually finds a suitable spot to park. Maybe he'll just rest like this for a minute. That sounds nice.
"...Hurts like a bastard, though," Dustin continues, when he remembers that Cayde is still here. His eyes are dull as he tracks the Exo following him up the path, though he's obviously still operating on some instinctive level of caution since he also pulls his legs up to his chest, guarding his injured arm. "Heard it pop. Lots of swelling. Dislocated, maybe? Fuck me, it hurts."
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"Dislocations can be dealt with at least. Bones, well...I'm no doctor so if those potions don't work then we'd have to work out some kind of splint."
Cayde looks back down towards the pond, just to make sure the recent kill hasn't drawn anything else out. He abruptly starts to jog back down the way, only to come back up a moment later with the previously abandoned fishing pole in hand.
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Hopefully it won't come to that. While Cayde jogs away, Dustin paws through his satchel, soon locating a little flask of bright blue liquid that he'd crafted just days earlier. He pulls out the cork stopper with his teeth and hesitates. There's no telling if the concoction is toxic to anyone not native to Eorzea. Sure he'd smeared a bit on his skin, carefully inhaled the fumes of the finished product, but that's hardly an extensive rejection test. Not that he has the resources to do the level of testing he'd like to feel even remotely comfortable...
...Fuck it. I made this, I trust it. With a nervous wince, Dustin kicks back the bottle - and immediately regrets it. The healing potion has the smell and taste of mildly diluted menthol. He coughs and gags, seriously considering if he should force it back up, but rejects that idea pretty quickly as the intended effects kick in. Cool numbness spreads through his body, and while he doesn't see the cuts closing or the bruises fading slightly on his face, he can feel the sore spot on his tongue that he bit earlier healing over.
When Cayde returns, Dustin's feeling a lot more relaxed. His arm still hangs limp at his side, but honestly, he's just relieved that his own potion didn't kill him. Seeing the Hunter roll up with his fishing pole elicits a similarly surprised huff of laughter.
"Dude, don't make me owe you any more than I already do." Dustin flashes Cayde a lopsided smile, jerking his head to indicate where the Exo can put down the pole. "It's fucking embarrassing."
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Already Cayde can tell the kid's looking a lot better. He nods at the bottle. "That do the trick?"
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"I think--maybe?" Dustin slips the empty flask back into his satchel and, feeling confident, experimentally tries to roll his shoulder. Instant regret. He gasps, arm seizing with a shock of pain. "--Balls, fuck, shit! Nope. Definitely not. Goddammit!"
Well, that was nice while it lasted. Dustin resumes gently rubbing at his shoulder from under his coat. The potion's numbed what was a constant agony to an isolated throb, at least, as long as he isn't trying to manipulate it. Which he's going to have to. Fuck.
The teenager passes Cayde an apologetic glance. "...I'm gonna bother you for one more favor."
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...okay so he lit himself on fire a moment ago but that's...more reasonable around here than drones that appear out of thin air, right? The kid hasn't said anything about it so it's not something the Hunter's dwelled on either.
But then Dustin's definitely got more pressing issues. Cayde almost jumps at the exclamations. Okay, clearly potions do not work on dislocations. He winces behind his helmet, trotting over closer. "Can't very well say no, can I? Well I mean I can, but that'd be kind of a jerk move after all that," he says with a wry laugh. He grunts a little as he stoops down beside the kid.
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The other part is a bit more esoteric. "You'd be in your rights," Dustin says, tone completely serious. His expression is one of almost fevered conviction (although that might be the pain talking). "I haven't done enough to justify your help. I--I've got to pay you back. I could take a look at your leg? I'm assuming it's mechanical, I'm good with that shit. I mean, when I've got two working arms."
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He waves a hand, shifting his focus to study Dustin's arm. "I can take care of the leg, that's no problem. Let's deal with this first. You got anything to bite on, kid?" His hands hover closer to Dustin's arm, but the Exo looks at the kid for a go-ahead to grasp it before he'll do so. His grip is surprisingly gentle but firm, but he's had centuries to refine his movements and get used to the strength of his metal body, to be able to have a feather touch when it comes to a quickdraw and a ready trigger finger.
"Whenever you're...ready as can be. On three?"
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No, what's irritating him is that the Exo doesn't seem to be taking his offer to pay back the assistance seriously. Dustin doesn't like feeling in debt to someone. It's unfamiliar, plus deeply disconcerting.
I'll just have to do something else for him later, he resolves. More important priorities right now.
"Yeah, I've got, ah--" Dustin lifts his other hand to indicate the thick leather gloves he's wearing with their accentuated cuffs. He doesn't stop or give explicit permission for Cayde to touch his arm, but he does visibly prepare himself for it, resting his forehead on his knees and taking a few steadying breaths. It's probably difficult to get a good look at his injury beneath the baggy sleeves of his coat, though if Cayde touches his shoulder the swelling should be obvious.
"--Don't just yank on it," he hisses. Cayde probably knows what he's doing, but Dustin can't be sure. Or maybe he's rambling to buy time from the inevitable. Probably the latter more than the former. "You'll tear something. Pull down and out - one smooth motion. If you fuck this up and make it worse, I take back everything I said earlier."
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The helmet hides the roll of his optics as Dustin goes off. He'll take it as nervous chatter, which is thoroughly understandable. After all, Cayde's pretty much a stranger and the kid's in pain, probably scared. The Exo may not have had to reset a dislocated limb in a long while but he remembers how better than the when, might've even had to fix his own busted arm at some point or another when he was still flesh and bone.
"Bite," he says, the only head's up he gives although he waits a beat to see that Dustin does clamp down so he won't bite his tongue off. "One--"
That's all there is to the countdown. He's quick about it, smooth as Dustin could possibly ask for.
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