Posted by Civilian Seamus McKenzie (Future Citizen) in Earth - An Unexpected Meeting

Posted by Civilian Ragna Idun McKenzie (Future Citizen) in Earth - An Unexpected Meeting

Posted by Civilian Seamus McKenzie (Future Citizen) in Earth - An Unexpected Meeting
(snip)
Hand tools clutched in either hand, pointed out, she threw the basket at him, for distraction and then swipped hard with both tools right across his face. She dodges quickly around, running full out for the door, stumbling as the thunder rolled in from the sea, temporarily blinding her.
Ragna

The basket confused him just long enough for the hand tool to make contact and an eruption of crimson appeared on the man’s nose and cheek, causing him to reel and curse loudly. “I’M GONNA GUT YOU FOR THAT!!” he bellowed and made to grab her, but missed as she dodged and went for the door. But as she got close and the thunder crashed, the stumble cost her valuable steps and a fleshy paw latched onto her ankle and yanked her off her feet.

Ragna fell, hard, the air rushing out of her lungs, pain erupting in her back as rib met uneven cobble and rib lost. She had the sense to tuck her head as she landed, but the throbbing and blackness and roaring that beat with the storm blinded her and drowned out his shouting. The tools fell from numb finders as her body absorbed the shock. She kicked out with her free leg, aiming more by instinct. Her vision a tunnel of pulsing pain. She connected with something, shoulder, face, arm maybe…

“I… am gonna… enjoy this!!!” the man said ominously as he pulled her towards him. The hand not on her ankle raised in a fist and shot down, aiming for her stomach.

This Will Not End Well

Ragna, hands and free foot for leverage tried to find purchase to pull away, but the man was simply too big. The migraine raging to full force to her ability to think clearly. In the small space of vision she saw movement and a fist. Her hand scrabbling for anything closed on a handle, and tool or knife she had no idea and she struck out blindly…

Another cry of pain erupted as the trowel met flesh, this time sticking point first into the chubby forearm. Enraged, he yanked the arm away and swore, his blood y face marred with rage and pain.

“SEAMUS!!” The Storm snatched away her defiant, terrified, desperate cry away towards the wilds. The blow of his fist robbed her of the rest of her breath. Heavy fist met soft flesh and another rib cracked. She curled into herself, or tried, Vision gone and blood in her mouth…
Ragna

Pain erupted as a fist struck her across the face bruising cheek and blackening her eye.

The man stood over her as the rain started to fall, hands clenched into fists and staring as blood ran from his face. He reached up and yanked the garden tool from the spot it was embedded in his arm. A cry of pain accompanied the move, and he turned down to look at the curled up form of Ragna. “I am gonna break every… bone… in… your… body!” he said slowly and deliberately. He leaned over and put his mouth near her head and half-whispered “And then I’m gonna break you.” He looked at her and spit, and then stood up slowly, wiping blood from his mouth. He reached down for a handful of hair as the sky grew dark and the rain began to pour…

The force of the blow lifted the big man off his feet and knocked him several feet away. He landed with a thud on the cobbles, grunting as the wind was knocked from him and ribs gave way to stone. The wind blew sheets of rain, and the man looked up into the storm.

His fist full of hair tugged and yanked and suddenly let go, and her head dropped without control against the hard cobbles beneath her. The force hard enough to make her sees stars in her blinded condition. She curled to her side as she vomited and then fell unconscious.

There, walking slowly towards him, was a red-haired form who seemed to be the very embodiment of the storm around them. Hands clenched into fists, the form approached with all the slow inevitability of the thunder that seemed to accompany each step.

“Argyle…” was all the form said as it reached down and grasped the lapels of the expensive suit coat and raised him up to a half-sitting position.

A column of blue lights appeared next to Ragna and a form swathed in oilskin looked around and then spied the young McKenzie woman on the ground. Gentle arms wrapped around her and a familiar voice said “Oh my child, what happened?”

There was no reply except for pain filled twitches as her body instinctively tried to move away from the pain the storm was creating and then cries as each movement brought pain from injured body parts. Bloodied and scrapped palms and fingers clutched or pushed, who knew which, at the arms holding her.

“Seamus… Sea-” and the words were cut off as the red-haired husband of Ragna brought his brow down in a massive head-butt on the bridge of Argyle’s nose. Bone shattered with a sickening crunch, and the man cried out as the pain blinded him. Seamus brought his head up and then raised his fist, bringing it down in a bone-shattering blow that knocked teeth, blood, and spittle from Argyle’s mouth and onto the cobbles. Argyle’s head rocked to the side, and he cried out, tears mixing with rain on his bloody cheek. He tried to talk, but his jaw wouldn’t move; broken at the joint as it was. Another head butt and the bloodied Argyle McKenzie went limp in Seamus’s hands. Seamus let go of the jacket and Argyle’s head landed with a wet thunk on the ground. Seamus’s hand went to his waist and the hunting knife sheathed there, but a voice yelled out “Seamus!! No! You can’t!” and the fire-headed Marshall whipped his head around to look at the source.

Lady Tara cradled Ragna in her arms and said “Help her, Seamus. I’ll take care of that. NOW!” Her words carried a weight even the storm couldn’t match, and they shook Seamus out of his blood-rage. He looked back at Argyle and delivered a last, powerful kick to the man’s pride, evoking a final scream of pain. He then turned and knelt dow next to Ragna and looked at Tara. She only nodded and he scooped Ragna up and carried her inside.

Seamus McKenzie

Ragna cried out as Seamus lifted her, moving broken and bruised ribs. But she ceased to struggle, as if realizing he was there. Her world only a raging storm of pain and blackness.
Ragna

Seamus carried her in and laid her gently on the bed. He quickly cut away her shirt and looked, seeing the swelling and bruised areas on ribs and stomach. He looked at her face, swollen and blackened, and he had to bite back as the rage threatened to overwhelm him again. He stood up and went to the cabinet by the sink, retrieved multiple jars and bottles, and brought them back to the bedside.

Her breath was rapid but shallow punctuated by a hissed staccato of pain from bruised ribs and torn abdominal muscles. She felt the bed, familiar and comforting underneath her, but it hurt to relax.

First, he applied the tincture for the headache. As long as she was tense, the rest wouldn’t do anything. As he rubbed her temples, he softly said “Easy, love… easy… you whooped his a$$ good and proper you did.”

Ragna seemed to still as he began to rub the tincture into her temples, the scent wafting to her brining a relief from the odor of blood dirt and spit and bad breath. As he talked to her, her breath slowed, but it was more the sound of his voice and not the words, too far gone in pain to comprehend.

He kept rubbing until she seemed to relax even a bit, and then lifted her eyelids to make sure she didn’t have too serious a head injury. Closing them and laying a towel across her eyes after, he said “Oh, you’re gonna have a worse headache than normal, my love. But ya should be just fine in a day or two.” he then moved down to her side and stomach. He gently prodded and, when she reacted, he stopped and noted the spot.

She flinched, whimpered, and jerked away from the light, illiciting cries from her as pain and fire sliced through her head. A throbbing, on the surface on the back of her head, joining the rest. As he prodded bruised ribs and torn muscle she batted at his hands with torn fingers, trying to make him stop. She whimpered his name through swollen lips, “Seamus.....” She coughed blood, a small amount. At some point she’d bit her tongue.

Just then the door opened and Tara came in. She threw back the hood that kept the rain from her face and looked at Seamus. Seamus nodded, and she sighed heavily in relief but remained silent. Seamus applied an unguent to Ragna’s ribs and stomach; very gently rubbed it in. Once that was done, he pulled the covers over her and stood and sighed. He went to the cabinet, pulled two bottles of whiskey out, and set one in front of each of them. Tara pulled over a cup and poured it full. Seamus pulled the cork from his bottle and drank straight from it, several swallows before taking the bottle from his lips. He set it down on the table and looked at Tara.

“Well?” was all he said.

Seamus McKenzie

She lay still after he finished lost to the storm and pain, simply breathing. Trying not to move as she breathed, for that brought pain, and the pain brought intense nausea. She was neither conscious nor asleep.
Ragna

Tara looked at Ragna for a long moment, firelight rfected in her green orbs. “He’s alive. I had him transported to the hospital. Angus is at the vet, too. How is she?” Seamus turned and looked at Ragna. “Cracked ribs. Concussion. Probably some bruised or torn stomach muscles. She’ll live.” he said softly and then turned back to Tara. “He shouldn’t have, though. Of I hadn’ta heard Angus…” and his voice trailed off. Yara reached across the table and took his hand. “But ya did, lad. So don’t go playing ‘what if’s’. Now… there is going to be a doctor arriving soon.” Seamus opened his mouth the protest, but Tara held up a hand and gave him a look that said to hold his retort.

“One, she needs to be seen. To make sure nothing more serious is going on inside. Two… two is we need the injuries documented, Seamus. We need a record. Because by all the gods above and below, you know Argyle will…”

Seamus stared at her for a minute and then finally nodded. “Very well. But he has to pay for this Gran. The conversation was then interrupted by a pounding on the door. Seamus opened it and in walked a tall, thin woman carrying a black leather doctor’s bag. Tara looked at her and said “Janet… thank you for coming. Seamus, Dr. Janet Bailey. Janet, my grandson, Seamus.” The doctor nodded and then spied Ragna. She moved past Seamus wordlessly and sat on the edge of the bed. Taking out a tricorder, she ran a series of scans, then she pulled out a hypospray and dialed in a few compounds and pressed it Ragna’s neck.

Ragna roused slightly as the doctor administered the hypo. Every nerve was on fire and she flinched at the touch The movement made her head explode. The words were mumbled and low, her mouth and cheek and eye hurt too. “La meg være i fred. (Leave me alone).” She curled further into herself.

“That’ll take care of the head. Be right as rain tomorrow morning.” She then reached in and pulled out an osteoregenerator. Placing it on her ribs, the doctor turned and looked at Tara. “Cracked, not broken. And the abdominals are partially torn. She’ll be ok in a few days, though.” She took a PaDD from the bag, made a few notes, then put it back.

The woman’s voice was overly loud and made her head hurt more. The ache in the back of her skull where she hit the cobbles began to ease. She tried to cover her ears, more of a reflex reaction, but it hurt to move. She moaned as the unknown person worked. Whispering insults and curses, in Norwegian, every so often. Once, when the doctor probed at the cracked rib she whimpered out his name.

“You’ll have a full medical report later tommorrow… otherwise… she’ll be okay.” Tara grinned and said “Thank you, Janet. We owe you.” The two women embraced each other and them Janet stepped outside and was gone.

Tara looked at Seamus and said “This changes things… you know that, correct? We are in unfamiliar territory here, Seamus…”

Seamus McKenzie

“Angus? Daft rødmodig ram. Få deg drept. (Angus? Daft ruddy ram. Get yourself killed.)” Despite the only thing she could see was pinpricks of light and sound became merged with the roaring in her ears, and the thunder rumbling through her as it continued to crash in from the sea, she began to struggle to get up. Muttering about Angus, she was determined to get to him. He’d tried to protect her. She had to find him.

She had to tell Seamus, but her head hurt she couldn’t think or see; it hurt to move. And she wasn’t quite sure what she needed to tell him. “Forræderisk stakkar. (Treasonous wretch).” It was garbled and low. “Seamus....Angus…”she licked dry swollen lips, “Han er såret. (he’s hurt.)” And she tried to get up again.
Ragna McKenzie