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Post by Ackley on Apr 21, 2009 22:52:24 GMT -5
The camp that was the closest to their target was being watched too closely. Ackley's decision was to get the group together, get them together and refreshed, five miles up river from where they planned the attack. It was risky one, there would be innocents close, so they had to stand guard. Ackley, and the other people who had helped train the group, stressed this, over and over and over again. They all knew exactly what their targets would be wearing, and they would only attack them. Even if someone uninvolved to the fight started to hit them, they were ordered to move back and away from the person unless they were dressed in the Powers' soldier's attire. Ackley knew all to well what it was like once to get into the fight, so he decided to put the people who had fought before in the front, and the ones that had never fought near the centre and back. It would be a strong, well aimed, mass of Rebels constantly pushing forward. They went over their tactic plans, and marched the five miles down river towards the bridge. They were there before the sun had risen, and planted themselves on the opposite side of a large hill that overlooked the wooden bridge. Waiting ever so patiently.
Baking in the hot sun in his black outfit, he stretched out along the grass, pushing himself against the ground as much as he could manage. Two hours they sat upon that hill, most of them napping, others quietly talking to one another. Ackley laid there, watching the damn bridge.
Finally! Something moved. He watched another few moments, narrowing his eyes behind his circle glasses, then heard the sounds of heavy booted footsteps coming from between the trees on the opposite side of the bridge. Ackley crawled himself backward, as quickly as he could manage, then rolled a few feet. "Now!" Ackley shook the shoulder of one of the women who had helped train. She quickly got right up and went about getting everyone in formation. He got onto his feet and kept crouched, walking about and moving the sleeping ones with his foot so they'd wake. They were together in a flash. Everyone stood in the rectangular shaped formation, getting their gear tightened, their masks upon their faces, their courage up. Ackley lingered for a moment, taking his glasses off and putting them into his backpack, the ran to fall into his spot on the front.
Up the hill, they stayed slow, even going over it, they marched slowly. The heavy booted soldiers had yet to reach a parting of the forest that would allow them to be seen. But as soon as one of the people in the front saw a full bodied man, they charged forward. There were shouts from both sides, the Rebels having the advantage because they were lighter, faster, they got across the bridge and tore into the group of armed soldier before they could even reach the bridge itself. The sounds could be heard inside the homes of the village only a hundred or so yards away. Ackley grabbed upon one soldier's arm as he raised it to strike a sister, and twisted it back, throwing his entire body weight into the man and pushing him down, a crack was heard, and the man screamed. Ackley took the blunt stick from the man's hand and moved to the right side of the group, trying to encourage surrounding the soldiers.
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JackieH
New Member
Uninterested Neutral Girl
Posts: 8
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Post by JackieH on Apr 22, 2009 14:24:04 GMT -5
Sometimes, when it was all too quiet and the world seemed bored with making its own noises, Jackie offered up a little tune to the air. Now was one of those times, and the melody sprouting forth from her throat was neither pleasant nor rhythmic; in fact, it was mostly a bunch of random notes strung together without any thought toward it whatsoever. Now and then a counter melody appeared, of a gasp or a grunt as she stumbled on feet that never had gotten used to walking even after twenty years. To see her, it was almost expected that she would be clumsy or oafish when in motion. Jackie had been meandering for quite some time now...perhaps a day or two. It was her common practice; she walked where her feet took her, and didn't bother to keep a map of where she went. A little breeze picked up, ruffling her fiery hair. Then the little whisper of air was gone, and it was hot again. "Huff.... why's it got to be so hot?" She asked, and her attempt to sing was forced to cease. Every living thing around her sighed in relief... or they would have had they been capable of sighing.
She stopped her march, and turned her pale face up to the sky to see what it thought about the weather. It didn't say anything, but the sun looked a little self-centered to Jackie. Pursing her lips, Jackie blew fiercely, knocking her bangs out of her eyes with a narrow stream of her own breath. Her head fell, and she looked around at her surroundings to see what she could. Not terribly far off was an old bridge. It was unoccupied, and actually looked as if it hadn't been tread upon in a decade or so. She had the urge to ask how long it had been there, but there wasn't anyone to ask. Typically when a question was not asked to anyone, you didn't get an answer in return. Overcome by a basic curiosity that the girl never bothered to suppress, she started forward for the structure. It was like a passageway between a great hilly area and the very edge of a forest, and it generally seemed like a strange place to build a bridge. This only encouraged her forward.
Unfortunately, she had not been terribly far off from the bridge to begin with, and was inspecting its supports with much interest. Her skinny body was circumstantially hidden from view behind some kind of wild and psychotic looking shrub that was begging to be groomed. Jackie had no experience in shrubbery or botanicals, and so ignored it. Just as she had settled down to investigate the bridge she'd discovered, her ears picked up the rustling of branches and bush. The sound got louder, and so the red-head peeked up to see. Her body elongated, standing up to give her a better perspective on the situation. She could see men, advancing on her fairly briskly. They looked armed, perhaps soldiers. Most of them looked extremely hot and uncomfortable. Jacqueline took one innocent step forward to get a better view, and found her foot had been tangled in the thin roots of the bush to her right.
She tripped.
The soldiers kept on marching, and ignored the very existence of a woman in their way. She was swept up into the mass of dark-clothed soldiers and not particularly happy about it. In every which way there was a fighter, staring directly forward and never even bothering to glance in her direction. Her legs were a tangle of bright orange tights, her arms flailing about in her floral-pattern tunic. Jackie protested her involvement and begged to be let free from the formation. But it was too late. Everything suddenly got very loud and very fast. She was shoved forward into some kind of brawl, and the battle raged around her. Men fighting men, women slaying or maiming women. There was no rhyme or reason to this fight to her. Unable to contain it, her fear elevated to a state of panic. She ducked and weaved as best she could, and for a moment she felt that she was out of the chaos. Her heart pounded and her skin throbbed with it, and slowly she turned around.
A large blunt object swung at her face, and cracked her directly in the jaw without any remote sign of mercy. Pain shot through her entire body, and her vision went hazy. Her eyes rolled back, and everything went black. Jackie's body collapsed to the ground in a heap.
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Post by Ackley on Apr 22, 2009 17:33:45 GMT -5
If you saw a clear face and a helmet, your basic instinct by this point was to harm anything connected to it. There wasn't really anything to it. Ackley started grabbing comrades and pushing them in a direction that helped them surround them. They didn't want anyone getting out from under them and alarming more of them. The Rebels were already outnumbered, there had been about ten more then expected, which mattered very much to them. Ackley's eyes looked away from the moment of attack right before him, and looked over the group of his black uniformed brothers and sisters fighting against the green uniformed soldiers. So far all was well, their numbers hadn't dwindled by much. His quick assessment of the damage showed that the medics had only pulled three of them from the attack and were taking care of them on the hill where they had waited before. Then he brought himself back into the group and started to swing the bat he had stolen before at the soldier before him. Things had nearly reached a chaotic point, but they had somewhat of a control over it.
Suddenly, he felt something by his feet. Looking down, he saw a pair of black boots that looked slightly out of place. They were upside down, and swaying from side to side. Before he could connect it all, they had disappeared from his view. It clicked, his brain was slow from focusing on too many things, and he turned on his heel, and ran as fast as he could. The soldier was bloody all over and looked all sorts of scared and angry. The man ran as fast as his feet could take him. Ackley sprinted towards him. They were soon playing a bit of a bloody version of tag as the soldier took him inwards toward the town. He felt hundreds of pairs of eyes just on them, he heard nothing. He felt nothing other the ground when his feet met it, and all his eyes saw was that man in front of him. It felt like ages, but the pursuit was over before they had passed the fifth house from the bridge. Ackley, who wasn't quite as tall as he felt most of the time and certainly didn't weigh anywhere near as much as the man he was after, leaped up, and brought the bottom of the short bat against the side of the man's head. He dropped down, stunned, and Ackley continued. He wasn't aiming for him to completely die, but be out cold. He must've been a horrible sight for the innocents to witness. But he continued on. Grabbing the man by his ankles, and dragged him back towards the circle where the rest of the soldiers were.
He wondered if his eyes were tricking him. He saw something brightly coloured, it seemed so out of place. Maybe he was seeing things, perhaps something was in his eye. He most definitely needed his glasses, he thought to himself. Leaving the soldier on the side of the bank, close to the circle but not in the way, he went to investigate. Just in case it was something important. The shape seemed familiar, he moved closer. He put his bat under his arm, and pushed through the thick crowd of comrades to investigate this familiar and brightly coloured thing in the tall grass by the bank. He lost it for a moment in a sea of sweat, anger, blood, and black uniforms.
Then he stopped right in his tracks.
Ackley gathered himself up, and grabbed the closest comrade within reach of his arms and shook them. "Did you not see her!?" he shouted at the top of his lungs. The brother was quite young, and being greeted by a snarling Ackley seemed to put him out of his mind. He just stared. Ackley pushed him back to where he was, cursing the youngster as he did. Taking the bat from under his arm, he used it to shove people away from the girl, and it in turn pushed the entire formation forward. He wanted no one else to trample upon her, or do anything for that matter. His stomach turned, and he cursed everything under the sun under his black mask. Getting bothered by both this situation and the heat, he started to strip. Taking off his mask, the long sleeved sweater over his normal t-shirt, and the damn gloves. Covered in blood of both soldiers, comrades, and his own, he was a scary mess. "Get. Away." He growled to a sister who had probably merely bumped into him on accident. Squatting down, he took the petite girl and put his arms under her, then slowly stood up. "Medic!" he shouted as loud as possible over the racket happening beside him. He didn't care about that fight anymore, now he wanted to fight someone else for a completely different reason. He walked a few feet from the group, and two medics rushed over taking the girl from him.
They gave each other a very worried look, then back at Ackley. "What are you waiting for! Do your damn job." He stretched his arms up and ran his hands over his hair, turning back to look at the bridge where the fighting was continuing, but starting to die down as the soldiers were being discarded and the number of actual fighters from their side was dwindling by the second.
He looked back over towards the medics, who seemed to be stumbling about with their things. Sighing, he shook his head and shooed them away and took their place up, doing the job quicker and cleaner. The entire time he cursed his comrades, himself, and started to apologize even though she was out cold. He was in a bad state, hot, bloody, he himself was hurt, sore, tired, angry, and sad. He couldn't wait to get to bed.
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JackieH
New Member
Uninterested Neutral Girl
Posts: 8
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Post by JackieH on Apr 22, 2009 18:24:43 GMT -5
Her body was entirely limp on the ground, kicked by uncaring or unseeing soldiers. It couldn't be their fault, not in the heat of battle. To them, she was a simply a strange barrier... some kind of lumpy obstacle to fight around. A large bruise had formed, ugly and black against her white skin, on her jaw and cheek. Her face was swollen to a hideous size on the side that she had been struck. There was no telling which side had hit her, not in this rabid frenzy of fighting. Her mouth was hanging open, her lower jaw unnaturally knocked to the side in a way that looked like she was very badly hurt. Blood was frothing in her mouth, bubbling and spilling out as she breathed. In a spooky way of someone who had lost consciousness instantly, her eyes were half open, the irises and pupils vanished, rolled backward in her head.
To pick her up was to lift complete deadweight. Her body flowed like liquid in his arms, every little motion by the Rebel man transferred into her petit body. Her head slouched back as he lifted her body, more blood spilling forth from an open laceration somewhere in her mouth. It ran in a long trail from the corner of her lips to her hairline right by her temple. Her eyelids fell open further, revealing white eyes with just barely a quarter of her iris showing. With her limp appendages swaying in momentum, she was carried like a silent scream of what really happened during war.
There was a period of time as people fussed over her foreign body where it seemed as if she may not ever wake. She did not stir as they fumbled with her, and her long legs clad in orange tights were folded over one another like a rag doll's limbs. Her outlandish shoes, a stark black and white against her otherwise colorful clothing, were slightly smeared with a stranger's blood and dirt. Her eyes flickered once as they touched her, but she didn't move again. The stress of motion had opened a previously invisible gash on her face right at the point of impact. The bright colours of injury - red, purple, green, black - were more vivid and stark against her fair skin than against the weathered flesh of a fighter.
As the Rebel man began to take over her treatment himself, her mind began to restart itself, whirring silently to life again. Her body convulsed once, and she started to breathe normally again. The scream that had been robbed from her by the blackness of unconsciousness came out of her mouth like a gargled groan. Her bright eyes came forward again, a little hazy but there. They writhed in her head slightly, a signal of dizzyness. She became suddenly aware that someone was touching her. Her first reaction was to scramble away, and shout in whatever voice she could find. "ISAAC NO!!" Her mind told her it was her crazed brother, come back to finish off his family because of whatever the toxins had done to his mind. Her jaw had given her a migraine, and her quick attempt of escape only created problems. She fell over, still awake but in too much pain to move or escape. If she was in danger, it was already too late. Laying helplessly, she gasped and panted, panicking.
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Post by Ackley on Apr 22, 2009 19:32:41 GMT -5
The girl was in horrible shape. It made Ackley angry that after the many times he had stressed how very important it was to watch out for innocents during their training, that this happened! He wanted to so badly find the comrade that was responsible for this and wring their neck. But he knew he probably never would, they were most likely young and nervous, and they'd never stand up or come to him and confess. Perhaps the people just did not notice. But still, it angered him to no end, and it made him upset even. He did his best to help her, but it was hard to move around almost complete dead weight. Even though she was small, he didn't want to further injure her by moving her a certain way and displace something and--
Suddenly she started to come too, he felt relieved, but that feeling was soon gone. He should've expected this sort of thing too happen. But of course he didn't. He sat there for only half a second in panic mode, then leapt forward after the crazed girl. Trying to calm her down after she stopped screaming about an Isaac, he said all he could think of. "I'm not Isaac! It's alright! Please relax." Taking in a deep breath he brought the black medic bag back over to where the girl had fallen again and started to try and see how she was doing. He tilted her head towards him, safe to assume that her spine was okay, and gave her a smile. "Just take a few deep breathes, it'll be fine." He started to try and wipe the blood from her face so that he could get the dirt from her cuts. The colours of the bruises impressed Ackley, he could only imagine what kind of pain she was feeling at that moment. There wasn't anything left in the bag to relieve her, it had all been used up already from this bag, all he had was enough to patch her up enough and try and make her feel a bit better until he could get a hold of something.
Ackley's eyes wandered a moment from the red-headed girl towards the action happening at the bridge. The shouts were still there, but there was almost no fighting. Any soldiers that could fight, were giving up. From time to time Ackley would feel horrible for the fighting that the Rebels did against these soldiers. He had been taught that the Powers were humans just as much as they. But that was only after the brief moment of him waking up from nightmares. Those men had every choice to leave the Powers and come join them if they wanted too. From to time they did, but not in big numbers, so Ackley didn't quite mind the attacks they did against them.
Once she was calm enough, and somewhat coherent, he started to speak to her. He figured it might help her get her mind off of what was bothering her before hand and focus on his words. "Are you okay?" Ackley rolled his own eyes at this stupid question, laughing a little, he sat down on his knees beside her, taking a free hand and running his fingers over his hair that was wet with his sweat. His face was covered in all sorts of blood and dirt, and he probably looked a little scary to her since she was just waking up and probably very much dizzy and out of it. "I'm so sorry, so sorry." He repeated this over and over again, almost non stop as he treated her, trying to help her out. "I told them, every day, every single damn day. Only attack the green men. We're in black, and the innocents are dressed normally. I pounded it into their heads!" He got angry again and started to toss things back and forth as he needed them and such. He stopped for a moment, and gave her a smile, figuring that taking his anger out while trying to take care of her was probably a bad choice. "I'm Ackley, what's your name?"
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JackieH
New Member
Uninterested Neutral Girl
Posts: 8
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Post by JackieH on Apr 23, 2009 14:12:26 GMT -5
Her fingers dug into the earth beneath her, pain throbbing through the veins and muscles in her head and neck like sharp and white hot daggers. She blinked her eyes furiously, working to clear the salty tears from her vision. With the moisture expelled onto her face and out of her eyes, she could finally see who was touching her and poking at her various bruises. The hands were pretty rough, but Jackie wasn't certain if that had any significance at all. Lots of people had rough hands. These hands were also sweaty, which was completely disgusting to her, and once or twice she batted the smelly appendages from out of the region by her nose. His claim that he was not Isaac, her insane and estranged brother, was verified by the fact that there was virtually no resemblance between the two men. this relieved her greatly, and she stopped squirming under his touch and let him do whatever he was clumsily attempting to do to her face. It felt somewhat moist, and she figured that meant cleaning. After a few seconds, all the attention to her open lacerations began to make them burn. Now and again she would wince and squeeze her eyes shut. "I...I know y-you aren't I-Isaac." She responded stupidly to him.
If there was one truth about Jackie, it was that she had absolutely the least amount of social grace that any one human could possess. The wild-haired girl had no friends, and her knack for stuttering and saying anything but what she meant to made most people give up talking to her before they even learned her name. Her tongue flicked out, licking lips that were dry from the intense sun that her pale body was laying out in. Her saliva had gone red, mixed with blood that filled her mouth. The dyed saliva colored her lips an unusual shade of red. As he leaned forward over her, she got a good look at his face. It was not a pleasant sight. He was covered in dirt, sweat, and blood, most of it already drying in the heat. Her face contorted momentarily into an expression of disgust, but Jackie found that forcing her face to show emotion was more painful than his incessant scraping at her wounds.
When she had just begun to hope that the conversation was over, she heard him asking if she was all right. "Uhm... N-no. I mean... I'm not....No. I'm not okay. I g-guess." After the words came spewing from her mouth, a bit a blood frothing at the corners of her lips, she blushed a little. He hadn't actually wanted her to answer, she didn't think. It was just a 'please-stay-conscious' question. "Uhh..." She muttered awkwardly. Her eyes shifted away from him, looking down at her own shoulder and some wisps of her untamed and generally ridiculous hair. "You don't...I m-mean....did you..? Of course not... It's okay. I mean. Don't b-be sorry...." She tried, and silently began to commit suicide. Or she wished she could anyway. She couldn't even get up and walk away. They were both stuck, enduring the torture that was a conversation with Jackie.
"Ackley is a funny name." She spouted without thinking, and immediately regretted it. "Oh! Sorry... I'm sorry. I mean... I didn't say that....Well I did... I mean... oh...." She lifted her hand and covered her eyes with it, trying to hide from his scrutinizing gaze. With a deep breath that gargled slightly in her chest, and a long shaking exhale, Jackie tried to move on and repair the conversation. "I'm... I'm Jackie, I guess. That's what...that's my name." The whole thing was a mess, thanks to her complete inability to speak. Her mouth shut and the girl became gravely silent, listening to the noises of battle, or what had been a battle only previously. There were people all around, and she tried to pretend like Ackley wasn't there, watching her. "Ow! Please...gentle...ow..." She exclaimed suddenly, jerking her head away from his grasp.
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Post by Ackley on Apr 23, 2009 15:37:16 GMT -5
Trying not to make it worse, he sort of did anyways. It was unavoidable. He needed to get everything clean, but at the same time it hurt her. Which was sort of a bad situation for them both. He felt bad emotionally, she felt bad physically. Ackley was quite a patient man when he was talking to people, so Jackie's stuttering and pauses between words were almost nothing for him to wait through. He tilted his head a little so he could hear her better, there were cheers coming from where his comrades were. He would have to celebrate some other time with them, right now he was busy. But there wasn't much he could do. He knew enough medical stuff to help her, but he didn't have the right stuff. His medic bag that he had stolen earlier from the two that had initially tried to treat her was nearly empty. Which may have been the reason they weren't really doing anything for her except stare at her, then the bag.
Ackley's eyes wandered from what he was doing with his hands, to around the field, checking things and also scoping for a black medic bag laying around unused. No luck yet, so he continued doing the best he could with what he had. He grinned, and was unable to hold back his laughter. "No no!" He wiped his eyes off with his forearm, not really doing much for his stinging eyes other then smear stuff around on his face and get some on his arm now. "Ackley is a silly name. I'd rather have a nice name like yours. Is Jackie short for something?" He brought his hands up from her face when she said ow, and sat back, taking another look around. "Hold on a second," he muttered to her, then muttered something under his breath.
Taking a big leap over scattered equipment and people laying down who were in his way of a direct path of his ultimate goal: a lone black medic bag just laying there in the open. It looked nearly full too. He was nearly at a run, with the fear that someone would notice it and grab it up before he could. He swung his long arm down and swiped it up into his arms, holding it tightly against his chest. Taking a slight detour on his way back towards Jackie, he slung his own backpack over his right shoulder. He hurried as quick as he could back towards her, not wanting to leave her alone too long, especially since the Rebels had disbanded from their circle and were all over the place. All this chaos had a pattern to it though, and Ackley knew he had to hurry up with Jackie.
Dropping his bag down beside her, he grabbed his glasses from the top small pocket and slid them upon his face. Much better! Then shoved aside the empty medic bag and opened up the much fuller one. Bandages and everything. "I'm back!" he announced, as if she couldn't already tell. He got down on one knee and started to try to persuade her to sit up properly, both with words and helping her by holding her arms. "Lean on my bag if you need too," he turned his head and looked inside the bag, starting to pull out bandages and cloth to cover her wounds with so nothing would get into them after all that painful cleaning.
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JackieH
New Member
Uninterested Neutral Girl
Posts: 8
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Post by JackieH on Apr 23, 2009 16:08:33 GMT -5
What a relief it was to have his gross hands off of her face, which was relatively clean to begin with. Her wound was now bleeding considerably less, but the area around it was red and raw, a clear sign of 'you cleaned it too much and now it hurts worse, you bastard'. There was dirt on her nose from his grimey hands, and she wiped it with some sense of disgust, looking at her fingers afterward. Whatever the muck was, it was black and gritty. Her tongue stuck out slightly, her version of making a face when her entire cheek was swollen up. Just as suddenly as the cleaning stopped, however, it continued just as it had before, and she found herself feeling more annoyed than grateful. This man could not take care of a wound to save his life, let alone hers. She didn't say anything though, and simply laid there trying to be patient with a stranger's dirty, sweaty hands all over her clean and smooth countenance.
She felt a gentle poke at the corner of her lip, and then her nose. She sniffled slightly in response and moved his hands away gently, looking up to notice he wasn't even watching what he was doing. She didn't know what he was looking for, but it was very obviously something he did not have. The look on his face made that clear. However, he must have been at least listening to her because he laughed at her careless words and swift apologies. She was glad he was not partial to his name, and the fact that he was being so casual about her speaking handicap made her feel, for one of the only times in her life, somewhat relaxed. She felt so confident, in fact, that she tried to smile, only the unswollen half of her lips turning up in what ended up being an ugly little smirk. She felt courageous suddenly, and opened her mouth to give talking a try. "It's short for.. for Jac--" He was up and gone, bounding away after something at what seemed like breakneck speed. She leaned herself up on her elbows slightly, her migraine beginning to wear away a little but and lend her some relief. "...queline..." She finished quietly, though no one was there to hear it.
She released a little sigh, not really certain if he'd ever return. She took the moment alone to glance around at the soldiers milling about. Those who looked her way didn't seem pleased about her existence, and Jackie's shy and antisocial nature came back full force. No one actually wanted her about, and Ackley was treating her because he felt he had to. If he came back, she would refuse medical attention. He seemed like the leader of an army of some kind. Maybe one of the two groups she'd caught wind of, the Rebels and the Powers. She didn't know which was which. Her guilt hung on her shoulders like chains. she was only another obstacle here. Jackie never felt welcome much of anywhere, and was beginning to get the hunch that she came off as mentally disturbed, not just cripplingly shy.
Ackley was returning to her side, and before she could scramble up on her own he was there again, ready to help like the kind man he appeared to be. In silence she witnessed him place on a pair of the most absurd looking glasses she'd ever seen. They were round and kind of lopsided on his face... but somehow they flattered him. It was as if someone were to have looked at his face and ask 'if this man were to have glasses, what kind of ridiculous shape would suit him best?' Instead of bleating out laughter as she had wanted to in the first moments, she just gave him a meek little smile. She ended up looking like she might be sick instead of pleased. As he began to help her to sit up, she cooperated, gripping onto his arm to help her weak body come upright. Even for being weak and dizzy, Jackie had quite a strong grip on her. "Th-thanks..." she muttered quietly, and focused her attention deliberately on the bandages he was fussing with.
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Post by Ackley on Apr 23, 2009 16:47:58 GMT -5
Putting the bandages over her face was quick, maybe not painless. He had to push down a bit on the edge of them to make them stick. Really, he was trying to be gentle, but it wasn't his forte in this kind of situation. If he didn't feel rushed by all the people, he would have been a hundred times better at this, but sadly for her, it wasn't a good time. But a great saying for this situation was 'pain never killed anyone'. He curled his left hand back, using the tip of thumb to push the bridge of his glasses back as they slipped down his sweaty nose. "So Jackie," he paused for a moment, to slip down from his knee and sit there crossed legged in front of her. He gave a big smile, pushed up his glasses again (which were still crooked), and looked her over. She seemed, well still pretty banged up and not looking too well, but at least she was conscious and sitting up. He wondered if the stuttering was something connected to being knocked down. But her actions were natural to how she was talking, so he quickly figured that her stuttering and long pausing was something natural to herself.
Before he continued his sentence, someone patted him on the right shoulder, then spoke into his left ear. He stopped for a moment and listened to the woman's words, nodding every so often. "Of course," he said back to whatever the woman's question was. "You should try and collect everything you can from them, but make sure you place them somewhere where the people in the town can't see them in plain view. Please." His last word hissed with an unfamiliar anger to him. The woman straightened back up, but he stretched his arm up and beckoned her back down, "You wouldn't know who was responsible for hurting Jackie would you?" his voice was concerned with a touch of sweetness, trying to coax and answer from her easier. He straightened his palm out and directed her to the colourful character sitting in front of him, the woman looked between the two, then shook her head profusely. Ackley sunk down and shook his head too, but a bit slower and because he was greatly disappointed.
The woman trotted off, a young man come up to where she was and tried to carry the medic bag off, but Ackley just grabbed the opposite strap and shook his head quietly. Finally, his dark brown eyes wandered back over Jackie, and he smiled again. "I bet you have a headache, and all that wonderful stuff." He tapped a few fingers against his chin, then delved into the side pocket of the black bag. Soon enough, he pulled out a small tan pouch, and untied the strong about the top. "Here," he stretched out his hand, then paused. "Uhm, wow. You should probably get it out of the bag, my hands are filthy. I apologize." He quickly placed the bag near her on the backpack beside her, and started to wipe his palms against his pants. It didn't do much help, most of it was dried onto or into his hands. Laughing a little, he straightened his posture again, "Just one, alright? Anymore and it'll make you sick, especially if you haven't eaten. Have you?" He wiped his face with his sleeve, getting just a small amount off his face, but it was barely noticeable. "Eaten, I mean."
He sort of clapped his hands together. He laughed, sort of discarding the question he had put before with a wave of his hand, and continued. "Did you ever tell me what Jackie was short for? I sort of rushed off, I'm sorry." He crossed his arms over his chest, then raised one up, keeping the other folded, and messed with his hair. It stuck up in all sorts of directions. With a combination of sweat, oil, blood in it, it was easy to get it to stick up, even though he didn't mean too.
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JackieH
New Member
Uninterested Neutral Girl
Posts: 8
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Post by JackieH on Apr 23, 2009 17:37:20 GMT -5
Her face was set in a childlike expression of deep concentration. She wasn't particularly paying attention to Ackley or his conversation with the female soldier. She was just thinking about life, about stuff. About her hurting face. She heard her name, and noticed his hand outstretched toward her own body. Her eyes widened in surprise, and for one fleeting moment she made eye contact with the woman. This girl had much more fierce eyes than she. Jackie's twinkly was gentle, like candlelight. This woman's eyes flared like wildfire. Alarmed, Jackie looked away. She could never be any kind of soldier, No way. "Y-you know, Ack...Ackley. I mean... There's not....you know. Any way of t-telling who hit m-me...I mean, I'm not t-trying to be rude...but...b-b-but you shouldn't blame your ss....." She paused, as if she feared the word she was about to say. "Soldiers. It was so.. I mean, uh... so chaotic? You know? I mean... you c-can't expect ..." She trailed off, figuring that was enough clumsy language, and that she got her point across. She cleared her throat awkwardly, and waited for him to say something again.
And he did. Of course he did. She was beginning to notice quite a talkative streak and him, and what surprised her the most was that she liked it about him. Not many people ever took the time to really speak to her, and he went at her a mile a minute with constant, confident language. As she listened, she got accidentally overwhelmed, and didn't bother to respond. She watched his grimy hands fuss with a small bag, and then she observed it being put down near her long orange legs. She scratched an itch on her head idly, her long fingers momentarily vanishing into her horrific train wreck of red hair. She was glad he hadn't grabbed whatever was in the bag with his bare hands. She found the cloth he'd cleaned her wound with, and began folding it neatly. It was moist with what she assumed was water, because the liquid itself had never actually burned her. Just the friction. She found, in her folding, a clean section of the cloth, and it was actually very large. She glance from it to his face and hands, and began to form an idea.
The clap of his hands brought her back to reality, and she blinked her curious brown eyes in a sleepy way. She really did have a headache. Setting the cloth down for now, she shot her hand forward and snatched the little tan bag from the ground before her. She inspected the outside first, feeling it gently with her fingertips before pulling the top open and peeking inside. she had yet to say anything, even though he was finished talking. She pulled out just one of the coarse, stringy plant bits in the bag, and took the time to smell it. She had no medical experience whatsoever, and had no idea what this was. With a concerned and nervous glance toward her bespectacled new friend, she popped the thing into her mouth. It did not taste good, and she felt like it might make her sick anyway, whether she'd eaten or not. She chewed it thoughtfully and with much distaste, and quickly swallowed it down. From there, she set the little satchel down, and leaned forward toward him slightly. The cloth was in her hand, and there was little guessing what was about to happen.
Bravely, she touched the wet thing to his face, and began to wipe. Her touch was gentle, moreso than his. There was no poking or scraping, just a gentle wiping or scrubbing motion as she sought after the real color of his skin behind the murky red and brown. "All of you is filthy....Sorry. But you are." It was the first sentence she'd spoken in a long time where she did not stutter. She failed to notice it, and her voice went right back into the mess it was. "Uh... Jackie's short for... f-for Jacqueline. J-Jacqueline H-Harrison." She muttered, not looking anywhere but the part of his face she was cleaning at that moment. His skin was start to shine through, and the deep contrasting border between grime and clean skin was almost comical. Her swollen lips smirked a little.
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Post by Ackley on Apr 24, 2009 21:05:06 GMT -5
The moment his mouth stopped moving, his mind was whirring at about a thousand miles per hour over all sorts of things. Pressing his dirty hands against his glasses, he pushed them up once more. Just as he did that, he noticed something white coming at him, and it was quite blurry. At first he thought it was a bug, and went to go swat at it with his hand. But he had to peer at it a bit better to aim well, even before he could do that, it had hit his face, "Of all this is-". Just a wet cloth, and Jackie was saying about dirt. "Oh! oh okay" He was a bit shocked for a moment, then moved from her, reaching over towards the medic bag again and pulling out a few handfuls of the same cloths.
"That's a good idea, much more efficient then my sleeves." He was more or less talking to himself, though loud enough for Jackie to hear him. He continued where she had started to wipe his face off, and had to press down pretty hard for anything substantial to come off his face. It was pretty nasty, which definitely didn't make Ackley avoid looking at the dirt and blood all over his face. In fact, each time he would wipe his face once with a cloth, he bring it down and take a look at it before he continued on. "Jacqueline Harrison, hm? That's a nice-" He paused, and rubbed his still partially dirty fingers under his glasses again, and let out quite a loud yawn. "I'm still really sorry about all this. We go through so much to prevent this from happening, and now it all seems for naught." Letting out a huff, his let his straight posture go and slouched over. His elbows perched him up a little, and he continued to wipe his face.
"Is my eye sight getting worse?" he asked her. Then shook his head, and sat back up. "Oh-" he took his glasses off and wiped them with the cloth. Quickly, even though he hadn't quite finished cleaning his face or his glasses, he stood up, taking the medic bag upwards with him. "Do you live around here? You should probably get home and take a nice long nap, it'll help you mend that headache." He shouldered the medic bag for a second, before grabbing someone passing by, and handing it off to them. Somewhere there was a frantic medic, and Ackley didn't need to hear about that. Setting the glasses back upon his face, he straightened them out this time before he let them alone.
Crossing his arms, he peered down at her through his glasses. "Do you need anything at all? We've got food, well I have some in my bag. Water perhaps? It's hot enough to boil your insides out here, you've got to be thirsty." He motioned towards his backpack, "Help yourself to my canteen if you'd like." Not really meaning to be rude, but he couldn't stand sitting anymore. The entire day had been walking, with only a brief period of laying down, but still quite alert. He had too much energy flowing through him to just sit down and dig into the grass like he normally would any other day.
A very loud and rough voice nearly exploded right behind Ackley. It didn't jolt him physically, but it certainly brought him back to the moment once again. Oh, Thane. Ackley turned his head, and gave a wave. 'Ready ta blow this damn thing?' Ackley grinned from ear to ear, he was beginning to really look forward to these things. "Everything set?!" he said in quite a cheery voice. Silly question, he thought, Thane wouldn't have asked if he could hurry up and blow something up if everything wasn't in place. He was surprised the man even asked in the first place. 'Abigail already cleared all the villagers back. Jus' waitin' on your slow ass.'
Not wanting to keep the explosives man waiting much more, he started to get himself and the rest of his comrades behind the hill so nothing would hit them when things went flying. Bending down, he picked up his book bag and slid it over his shoulders, disconnected the canteen and handed it to Jackie. "Here, go ahead and have it. And-" he paused for a moment to adjust the straps to fit his shoulders a little better. "You should probably go ahead and get behind the hill too. There's really nowhere else to hide from what's about happen."
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