Posted by Civilian Seamus McKenzie (Future Citizen) in Earth - Somewhere

Posted by Civilian Ragna Idun Edman (Future Citizen) in Earth - Somewhere

Posted by Civilian Seamus McKenzie (Future Citizen) in Earth - Somewhere

(snip)

Ragna sighed, “Hvorfor kan ikke folk LESE? Det spiller ingen rolle hvor bra han ser ut, bruk den hjernen som må være der oppe. (Why can’t people READ? Doesn’t matter how good he looks, use that brain that must be up there.)” She swipped back up to the article he’d barely looked at. “Yes yes, they are scum of the earth. Let me spell it out for you, the colony world where they are located, name’s ùr Alba, and in case you don’t know your Gaelic, lad, that means New Scotland. There are sects of almost every clan there, and back then there were no other orphans other than human to care for. And I don’t give a d%$# about the cousins, but it is enough for the Lord High Marshal, even if he doesn’t personally like it. Add Revna’s lineage to that…” she shrugged, “Now you and Mike’s grandmother can do what you want with it, but there it is. Either way, Mike’s an Edman now, and ALL that entails.”
Ragna, I still have tricks up my sleeve but I’m not telling

As she spoke her native tongue, Seamus looked confused but just shook his head. Inside, however, he grinned from ear to ear. Because while the attractive and wholly engrossing vision across from him muttered in Norwegian, she maybe didn’t know something important…

Seamus spoke fluent Norwegian, a gift from his mother.

“Is that what it means, does it? Who coulda guessed? Oh, is dòcha a h-uile duine a bhruidhneas gaelic. Agus tha an stràc agad uamhasach.” (Oh, maybe everyone who speaks gaelic. And your accent is terrible.) Seamus responded with a shake of his head.

There was a brief flicker of a smile across her face and then she spoke in flawless, beautiful Gaelic, “Carson a bhithinn a ’caitheamh cànan cho breagha air cuideigin nach eil mi eòlach air a bhiodh ga meas? (Why would I waste such a beautiful language on someone I don’t know could appreciate it?)”

A loud bleating came from outside and Seamus got up and went to the door. Opening it, Angus came in and danced a little dance by jumping up and down and pawing the stone floor. “Easy, Angus… easy.” and he petted the big ram’s head between the horns. Seamus looked back at Ragna. “Be right back. Mind stirring the stew?” He walked outside and shut the door, leaving Ragna with Angus.

She rolled her eyes. You’re a guest Ragna, stir the stew. She got up, found a heavy woven towel and used it to lift the lid and grabbed, without really looking, the wooden spoon from the hook and stirred. It smelled amazing, real food, not that replicator crap. But she felt light headed, dizzy, and her head was pounding…the threat of a migraine made her temper even more foul.

A few minutes later, Seamus came in and said “Stom’s coming. Big one, too.” and he sat back down and said “So where were we, then?”

Seamus McKenzie, Keeper of The Ram

Oh great…it was storm season wasn’t it. She rolled the papers up, and slipped everything back in the satchel. “We are done, for now. You get to decide if you’re going to take me to see Lady McKenzie or not.” She shouldered the bag and walked right out the door, moving around Angus and his stomping and bleating and hulking bulk. She was going to have a long long walk back.
Ragna McKenzie, I’m not staying in that house with that man in a storm…not doing it.

Seamus followed her and said “By the gods, woman! Get back in here! That storm will be right on us in minutes!” He stopped at the fence and watched her walk towards the main estate grounds… eight miles away. “Awwww… dammit.” he said to himself. He then said “ANGUS!” and the big black ram came out and stood majestically by his side… well, as majestically as a black ram could. “Go.” and he pointed at the walking figure of Ragna. “Go keep an eye on her, then. When she gets too cold and too wet and too lost, bring her back.” and Angus grunted once and took off. Seamus watched him run and just shook his head. Turning, he went back inside and got out enough wooden dishes for him and Ragna to have dinner.

Seamus McKenzie, If You Cant Dodge It, Ram It

Ragna turned the coming storm reflected in her eyes, “I was born for storms like this!” And she turned, extremely tempted to head for the beach, and call her Da, send a boat in. But in a storm like this, it would be dangerous for a boat to beach and so she didn’t. Ragna laughed at the Ram who was trying, with some success, to herd her back towards that cottage. “I don’t think so. I’d rather risk the wrath of Thor than spend the night in that house with him.” Angus stomped and headed butted her several times. She shook her head, and grabbed him by the horns and turned his head, gently, “You go on home to your ladies. I’m not one of them. Go on, Angus was it?” He stomped and bleated, “yeah I wouldn’t be happy with that name either. How about Tanngrisnir. Hmmmm you look just like him. It means teeth-barer and he was all black. His brother was all white, but you don’t need to know his name. But they pull Thor’s chariot.” ​They could also be killed everything and cooked for their meat and were reincarnated the next day, but poor Angus didn’t need to know that.

She side stepped around Angus and continued walking. It was going to be a very cold and wet night. She didn’t pack for this. The thunder rumbled and rolled and she stopped to look up at the heavens. White blonde hair billowed and whipped around her as the winds rose and whipped around her. The change in air pressure and humidity was wreaking havoc on her head. She tried again to step around Angus, but he was having none of it and rammed her hard and she stumbled, “Hey!” and a flash and crack as the thunder and lightening flashed together. Angus bleated at her and he honestly looked at her as if to ask if she needed a clearer sign. Nope not at all. Thor had a very clear message for her, and Ragna was not nearly as stubborn as her sisters, but she also was NOT going back to that man’s house, alone…that was just too much. “Come on Angus, it wasn’t very nice of him to leave you outside the gate in this. Go home!” Her head was pounding and the normally overly confident Viking beauty was turned around.

Angus thought it was great fun. He led her circles around until the clouds finally decided to let loose and he wind really picked up. Finally, after making sure she was good and soaked and cold just like Seamus ordered him, he managed to herd her through the gate and backed up against the door. And in flawlessly yelled Gaelic, Seamus would hear from outside his door, “CHAN EIL aon de na Mnathan agad, Aonghas! Gluais! (I am NOT one of your Ladies, Angus! Move!).” Her head really really hurt now.
Ragna Edman, I don’t care what the gods say

The door opened and Angus, good boy that he was, butted Ragna one last time and two large hands landed on Ragna’s soaking wet shoulders and pulled her inside.

Seamus spun her around, hands still on her shoulders, and he looked her in the eye. “You come to my home, refuse my food, and risk your own life on my clan’s land? Any other insults you want to throw my way, Herald? Maybe some quick speculation on the validity of my parent’s marriage perhaps? Or throw some doubt on the rights of succession of some of our Chiefs?” and he let her go. He knew pointing out the less-than-proper actions she took would make his point.

Ragna’s hands came up between them moving out ward quickly, knocking his hands off her shoulders. “Hands off!” Stubborn Scott, she needed to get back where she could get her tincture before she couldn’t see from the pain … or worse and her stomach decide to rebel. She blinked, apparently from the sudden light of the fire from the darkness outside. So he missed the pinpoint constriction of her pupils. “If I wanted to speculate on your parentage I would have done so already. Not. With. The. Effort.” She cursed softly in Norwegian about storms, rabid rams, and light, the connection unclear.

“I am an honorable man, Miss Ragna. In this place you are safe from the elements and it is my duty to ensure your comfort and safety… as I am sure you are aware. Now… stand there and please don’t drip water all over my floor.” Je turned and went to one of two tall dressers and opened a bottom drawer. He pulled out a folded garment in the tartan of the McKenzie clan and another in dark blue. He set them on the bed and then, from the mantle above the fire, took down a length of cordage. This he ran from one wall to the other and then he pulled the blanket from the bed and hung it over the line, creating a kind barrier blocking the bed from the rest of the room.

She loved Revna, she did but this was too much. When he walked away she actually went back out the door, but stopped leaning against the wall under the small overhang, and politely tried to wring some of the water out of her skirts. The storm rumbled and flashed in perfect unison with the throbbing in her head. She had half a mind to kick Angus as he bleated painfully next to her. She stepped back in and closed the door. “Happy? No water on your floor.” Her voice snapped, her lilt much more pronounced and thick. Protect her from the elements? Who was going to protect her from HIM???? She wasn’t blind she saw the way he looked at her....she was in so much trouble....oh…and there was the black dizziness. She breathed slowly…

“Change inta those clothes, then hang your wet ones to dry on the hooks beside the fire. Then we can eat and try to salvage this evening.” He pulled back the blanket so she could move past it. Her head and shoulders, calves and lower would still be visible, but her modesty and propriety would be maintained.

Seamus McKenzie, Gods or Not Thats A Bad Storm

Salvage the evening? Oh no…she was NOT putting on his colors. Nope! She had no idea why the idea bothered her but she just was NOT doing it. But the outdoors woman in her knew she had to get out of the wet clothes. Stupid Ram, she would have been wet but okay if he’d left her alone. There was a sheltered rocky out cropping half a mile back, she’d seen it on their way in....

Reluctantly, she stepped behind the blanket, mouth in a tight line. She reached behind her and released the scabbard from the special holder on her back and lifted it and the sword up and over her head. She partially pulled the blade, enough to be sure no water and seeped into the tight fitting sheath and would damage the leather or rust the blade. Satisfied she set it down, took the satchel off over her head, placing it on the floor. Then the brooches and chains and the thora pin, finally the copper brown apron dress was lifted over her head. She turned her back to the blanket as the now dark grey under dress was removed as well. If he was looking, and he probably was, he’d see a long white scar on her left forearm as she raised her as over head to slip the blue shirt on. The shirt was enough, she was not putting on his colors. She was not doing it. She slipped off her shoes and wet stockings....and a frustrated groan escaped her. The shirt might be big on her, but it wasn’t long enough. She put the tartan skirt on, with surprising skill for someone with no experience with it, but it wasn’t quite right. She pulled the blanket down, folded it and placed it back on the bed. The room needed the open space to heat properly. She did not say a word. She hung the wet clothes and then sat silently at the table willing the room to stop spinning.
Ragna, yes this is a tantrum