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Post by flippmoke on Nov 12, 2009 17:09:29 GMT -5
UC 0079.09.15
The burning wreckage of the Benedictus smelled of charred flesh, a scent that the Prince of Orange would never forget. The pain of a broken limbs was something Nigel had experienced before. Though Randy Key never beat him quite as bad as he felt currently, the remembrance of that pain drove him own as he crawled across the sand. His left leg was gushing blood as the bone in his thigh stuck out and dug into the sand as he crawled, but the scorching flames hurt him far more. The terrible fire from the wreckage was burning his flesh simply by its proximity to him and was melting the rubber on his boots.
The pain was almost unbearable but he had to keep moving as he thought, "Melissa needs me, Melissa needs me."
His blistered hands dragged his broken body bit after bit across the hot sand as blood began to trickle out of the side of his mouth. Soon he was just outside the blaze of the fire where he collapsed the pain finally causing him to begin to pass out. A pool of blood began to collect outside his mouth and below his leg where his the bone extruded from his thigh. This is where Nigel was supposed to die that day. The impatient grim reaper was wrapping his fingers around the life of Nigel pulling him slowly below. Yet death's grip was not strong enough that day. Some would say the faith of a few pulled him back to life, others would say it was the drive of love that caused God to take pity on the limb body of Nigel. Sending his angels to pour life's force back into the body of Nigel.
Nigel eyes suddenly felt heavy and everything was going blurry, yet as his vision narrowed there appeared a humanoid figure moving towards him. From the sight of it, it appeared as if it had wing which most would have taken for an Angel. Yet Nigel knew it was something else, and as he was supposed to die he saw the also burnt and bruised body of a fairy moving to Nigel's side. Perhaps Thorvald was right, there were good fairies that did magical things. For if it was not for the fairy that gave diligent watch to the dying Nigel, the caravan of scavenging traders on their camels would not have paid notice a man they would have assumed like the rest to be dead. The sounds of sorrow the fairy made drew them near to save Nigel's life.
Picking his broken body off the sand, they did what they could to save him once they found him, but they didn't know if he would make it all the way back to the nearest town. However, one of them knew of a place to take the broken body and soul of Nigel. It was a broken Mosque that was not far away. With great effort and care the two of them moved the body of Nigel on top of one of their camels.
The burnt fairy then gave out as well, his broken small body went limp like that of Nigel collapsing into the sand in exhaustion so he too was scooped up and placed next to Nigel where they both rode to the Mosque.
Upon arriving they were met by a woman once again in shock to find someone in need and near death. It was suddenly a much more crowded Mosque as the bodies of Nigel and the fairy, Jojo, were brought into for salvation. Each of them no longer running on faith.
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thomas
EFF 
Senior Chief Petty Officer
Posts: 327
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Post by thomas on Nov 15, 2009 16:46:05 GMT -5
Sobriety eluded Thorvald and had done so for days. Remaining in a state of near constant intoxication, despite what his liver might protest, seemed the best way to deal with the stress of the Blue Destiny. The other inhabitants of the mosque were concerned but not overly so: Thorvald was a pleasant, generous drunk. Giacomo's own drinking suddenly seemed healthier, now that he had a friend to share it with. Thorvald's constant inebriation was even amusing at times--he sobered up for a few hours each day to begin repairs on the Blue Destiny only to become frustrated halfway through and start drinking again. Inevitably, these sessions ended with one sided arguments between him and the machine.
It was as Thorvald stumbled out of the mosque, into the glaring North African sun, his head throbbing a bit and his eyes glaring up at the blue giant that he heard voices on the other side of the mosque. The voices seemed to be muttering Arabic or Berber or some other godforsaken desert tongue--if it wasn't English, Scots, or Icelandic, Thorvald couldn't stand it.
His movements were slow as he climbed into the Blue Destiny's cockpit. He powered it up slowly and took a deep breath.
"Alright, Yer Majesty," he said. "I'm going to check some things, so don't ye get scared and go wild on me now."
He went to work, muttering to himself as his eyes darted from the manual to the screens and back again.
"...could but throw me a bleedin' bone, ye could..."
"...ye're still a pretty lass but..."
"...dun understand this killing business--no, madama, I d'not..."
Friend...
Thorvald looked up from the manual.
"Did ye' say something? C'mon now, talk to me."
Friend...
"Yeah, that's right, lass. I'm yer friend. We're friends, all right."
No...
"Yes! Yes! We are!"
Your friend...
"Yes, that's what you are."
There was a very loud, very audible, very adolescent sigh of frustration that wasn't Thorvald's own. Suddenly, the screens in the cockpit all turned bright blue.
"Shit, lass, what're ye doing?"
Numbers began appearing on the screen. The computers cast around for an internet signal and having found one hundreds of miles away, amplified it through some unearthly power, all to pull up a single web page: the Wikipedia article on Capuchin Monkeys.
Thorvald scanned the article, his brow furrowed. He spent the better part of an hour reading it and re-reading it, debating with himself. Finally, he declared:
"The faery was a monkey!"
The Blue Destiny gave another audible sigh, this time of relief, and powered down. As Thorvald got out of the cockpit, he saw Kathryn walking towards him. He met her halfway.
"A Federation officer was just brought by. Some traders, I mean," she said, stumbling over her words. "They found a half dead officer and brought him and his pet monkey."
"A capuchin monkey? The officer--what's his name?"
"I don't know what kind of monkey it is. It's a monkey-like monkey. The officer is Nigel Ferdinand. Do you know him?"
"He's my commanding officer. Also, the Crown Prince of Holland."
Kathryn was silent as they walked back to the mosque together to inspect the patient.
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Post by flippmoke on Nov 16, 2009 13:53:50 GMT -5
Kathryn had already tended to Nigel some before finding Thorvald, however his situation still had not improved much and still remained unconscious.
"There isn't much that I could do," said Kathryn as she motioned towards all the burns covering the side of Nigel's body.
The smell of burned flesh already had begun to fill the mosque and soon it was enough to even arose the burned Jojo, but the most he could do was open his eyes and emit a small whimper before closing his eyes again.
The bone was still quite visible sticking out of the thigh of Nigel, but the bleeding there had managed to subside. Kathryn moved forward towards Nigel motioning towards Thorvald to help her reset the bone.
Her soft hands moved forward lightly touching Nigel's before she prepared to do something that every nurse hated to do. As her hand touched Nigel's, all hell suddenly broke loose.
"MELISSA!" screamed Nigel as he tried to sit up violently. The pain was deeply visible across Nigel's face as he tried hard to get off the table. Nigel's screams of pain echoed around the old thick stone walls of the mosque as if it was haunted.
Kathryn moved quickly retrieving a needle which she quickly thrust into the arm of Nigel as he continued to scream with the howls of the greatest loss. However in a moment, his screams died out as he passed out on the table again.
A small tear ran down the side of Kathryn's face as she looked at Thorvald again.
"Will you help me reset it?" said Kathryn as she touched her hand right above the bone sticking out of Nigel's leg.
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thomas
EFF
Senior Chief Petty Officer
Posts: 327
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Post by thomas on Nov 18, 2009 16:47:40 GMT -5
Thorvald swallowed hard--few things bothered him. Danger didn't scare him; nor did the prospect of death. He was, however, squeamish around blood--he was lucky that for whatever reason, he was more resilient than most and managed to shrug off nearly every major injury in his life.
He washed his hands and downed an entire flask of scotch in moments. He shuddered and squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, imagining the whisky--water of life, he reminded himself--flowing through him, giving him strength.
"Right. Let's do some surgery," he said to Kathryn. Her small white hands pulled apart the wound and he delicately pressed against the bone. It flexed slightly under his fingers but refused to budge.
"You'll have to push hard, all along the bone," she advised. "Slow, steady pleasure. Guide it into place. No jerking--we don't want it to break."
Sweat beads dotted Thorvald's forehead. Standing next to his commanding officer, he placed his palms along the bone and pushed down, bending at the waist and bringing his upper body directly down onto the bone. Slowly, it moved. After a tense five minutes, the shattered end came in contact with the rest of Nigel's skeletal structure.
"Now hold it there," Kathryn said, stepping away for a second to get a splint. The wound immedately closed around Thorvald's fingers and he gasped at the feeling of hot, bloody flesh on his hands. He steeled himself, however, and held the bone in place; forced himself to imagine that the healing was already happening, that the longer he held the bone there, the faster Nigel would heel. He barely noticed when Kathryn touched his shoulder. He looked down and saw that the splint had been set.
"I'll sew him up. You can wash your hands and relax. You did well."
Thorvald took two steps towards the sink and promptly passed out.
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Post by flippmoke on Nov 19, 2009 18:59:33 GMT -5
The flies were already swarming over the closed wound around Nigel's leg as he awoke. His body ached like nothing it ever had before, and the IV in his arm let him know quite quickly he had been given some sort of medical care. However, as he woke he tried not to make a sound. Looking at his leg and the way it ached he knew it was not a wise decision to put weight on it, so instead he leaned on the IV stand which was next to him as he slid out of the bed. It wasn't the smartest decision he had ever made as he gritted his teeth as his burnt flesh rubbed against the bandages covering most of his body as they rubbed against the surface of his bed as he got out of the bed.
Vomit is not something you can do quietly, nor is it something you can stop. For some reason becoming vertical made him required him to do so quickly, however, the painful vomits onto the ground didn't attract much attention.
He was about to hobble off after feeling slightly better after puking but something caught his eye. A syringe and bottle was laying next to his bed, which he picked up with his hand that was not covered in a bandage.
Dihydromorphinone.... thought Nigel as he looked around the room, Good stuff..
He picked it up looking to put it in his pocket of his shirt, but in its place was a bandage covering the entire top of his body.
Shit, the picture of my father, thought Nigel as he looked around the room.
Holding the needle, bottle, and IV stand in one hand Nigel began to hop to the other side of the room, the wheels of the IV stand squeaking as he moved. Arriving at the other side of the room he felt dizzy again and puked as pain was sent screaming through his body.
It was too much for him to take, with his hands shaking, Nigel began to slowly pull a small amount of the dihydromorphinone out of its bottle with the needle.
Not too much, or I will pass out, thought Nigel as he inserted the needle into his IV bag.
The rush came through his body making his head so woozy that Nigel completely forgot what he was doing. Swaying slightly he put the syringe and bottle on a near by table as he tried hard to focus again. In a few moments he was able to focus again, but it still took a moment to remember that he was going to get something out of his jacket which was still lying on the table.
Picking up the burnt leather jacket, Nigel slipped in the syringe and bottle into the jacket before throwing it around his neck with out thought. The extra weight of the jacket on his burnt skin sent burning pain through his body again, causing him to hope slightly on his unbroken leg. Coming back to the ground with the other foot sent another shock of pain as even a little pressure on his broken leg caused the nerves in his leg to scream.
Fuck, thought Nigel as the pain exhausted him, as he scanned the room yet again. His eyes eventually came to rest on a set of keys that were on the table right in front of him, he grabbed them in one hand and limped towards the door where he saw a Lakota sitting outside.
Well they made this easy for me, thought Nigel in a slightly sarcastic voice inside his head.
Nigel struggled with the door for almost a minute as he tried to effectively get himself and the IV stand out the door. It took some time but he eventually was able to make it happen, but found another problem as he made it out. He had no shoes, was limping barely on one foot and the IV stand, and there was now gravel.
Well fuck they REALLY made this easy, thought Nigel as he took his first hop leaning on the IV stand with one foot onto the gravel.
Several rocks bit into his foot sending more pain rushing through his body.
Melissa needs me, was all that Nigel could think as he continued to make his way towards the Lakota, limping ever so slowly. It took another two minutes till Nigel finally touched the jeep, and with a painful humph, he was able to get inside the driver's seat. He quickly lifted his IV stand and placed it into the driver's seat where it rested.
God damn, Thorvald is here, thought Nigel as he turned the key of the Lakota finally able to notice the giant blue mobile suit that just around the corner.
~
Inside Kathryn was finally able to get Thorvald up into a bed where he was resting after passing out when she heard the Lakota starting up.
"Someone is stealing the Lakota!" she yelled as she ran outside. To her amazement she saw the EF officer driving off at a decent speed with her IV stand in the passenger seat.
"Jesus Christ, what is with these people's tolerance for pain," said Kathryn in frustration as she turned to see Thorvald waking up again from his spill from before.
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