May. 29th, 2012

transferences: (♔ 083)
[ He's out for at least thirty minutes, this much he knows when he comes to and allows his head to loll to the side, forcing his eyes open to nothing but darkness as the sun is no longer visible on the horizon. His hand fumbles along what he can see of the outline of the cockpit's dashboard, but even as his fingers close around the tranceiver and bring it up to his face, he breathes no relief -- it's been damaged in the crash, he can't send out a distress call nor coordinates to his current position, and on German territory it won't take long before he's found.

He's surprised that they haven't arrived at the site by now, in fact; it's too quiet, and while he can hear them - soldiers in the distance, hints of thoughts - he can't truly filter them out in his current state, the slickness of blood trailing down his face in a warm river and clinging to his skin as it begins to dry. He makes himself move, though, clenches his teeth as he pulls his legs free and shoves himself off the seat to climb out of the wreckage, because lingering when he's lost as much time as he has already will surely get him captured.

The Nazis are hardly known to show much mercy.

Feet on the ground, his knees feel as though they might give out but he heads for the treeline, in the direction opposite to the one he can estimate the Germans are approaching from. Nightfall has either been a blessing or a curse, he hasn't quite decided yet, but his inability to see includes an inability on his enemies' part as well. They'll have to rely on light sources and first and foremost their hearing, but Charles, he has his mind -- an advantage of sorts, at least, in a situation where he is most certainly at the disadvantage.
]

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cнᴀʀʟᴇs ғʀᴀɴcɪs xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ.

May 2012

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