Xandrya — Roleplayer Guild

Hand-to-Hand Healthcare

OOC:  JP from @Xandrya and @sail3695

”Attention all hands, this is the first mate.  Due to the length of time and remote location of our next job, Captain’s ordered everyone to report to Medbay for a complete physical exam.  Abby, you’re up first.  Imani will be ready for you in thirty ticks….”

Thirty ticks was jest enough time fer a proper shower an’ fresh clothes what didn’t stink of sweat.  Afore today, only times Abby seen inside Medbay was if she got somethin’ hurt.  She weren’t sure at all of what to expect, so she double scrubbed ever’ place, just tah be safe.  Brushed ‘er teeth twice, too.  Not knowin’ what Imani might wanna poke or prod at, the deckhand conjured less clothes might be better.  With two minutes to spare, she showed up outside Medbay in a pair ‘o’ shorts an’ a tank top what read:

HAP’S LA FRONTERA
- Greenleaf -
So many great bars…and you came here?

The door was hangin’ open.  “Imani…doc?  Doc Imani?”  She tapped on the doorframe.  “Here fer muh phys’cal?”

“Come on in, Abby,” Imani looked over her shoulder at the redhead who was cutting it close with time, not that Imani was a stickler for punctuality. In fact, she herself had the occasional tardiness or two on record.

“Given my new position, I need to go down this checklist if ya don’t mind…” She turned to face the young girl, directing her to a scale that wasn’t there before. Once Abby settled in place, Imani recorded the displayed weight on her datapad. “Don’t move just yet…” From the corner of the scale, a green laser shone up adjacent to Abby which reached the height of the topmost part of her head. The scale then read her height. Imani then added that information in her datapad, which would automatically calculate the girl’s BMI, showing it was well within normal range.

Abby held still as numbers flipped an’ come tah rest, tellin’ her weight an’ height.  “Five foot six,” the deckhand read aloud.  “And one seventeen.  Funny,” she shook ‘er head.  “Ain’t grown any taller, but looks like Ah’m gittin’ wider.  Is that normal?”

She smiled reassuringly, head slightly cocked to the side. “As normal as can get. You’re growing into womanhood, that’s all. And the labor the captain’s got you doing…that’s gonna tone you up. Alright, you may step down. Aside from recent injuries that have been previously recorded, are there any other medical issues I should know about?”

Abby thought on that one a spell.  “Nah,” she finally answered.  “Not really.  Reg’lar pulled muscles an’ scrapes from hossin’ crates in tha cargo bay.  Aside from that,” she give a shrug, “nada.  All shiny.”  Fer a sec she pondered why ever’ medbay she ever been in had tah be so gorram cold.  I wager it’s a test, she finally decided.  Goose flesh check, or some such.

Walking over, Imani patted the exam bed beside her. She reached for a band that when placed around someone’s arm, would give that person’s vitals amongst other things. “Have a seat if you will, just gonna handle this real quick.” Imani pushed a button and waited a few moments. While so, she turned to Abby. “Everything good in there?” she motioned towards the girl’s head. 

That one sorta threw Abby.  “In muh head?” she asked.  “I s’pose.  Ain’t zackly been all tea an’ biscuits around here of late, but Ah’m makin’ it.”  The arm band commenced inflatin’, gettin’ tight on ‘er bicep so she could feel tha blood pumpin’ in ‘er veins.  Then she remembered Thomas, a thought tah brighten her face.  “It’s all lookin’ up, I reckon.”

Suddenly, she wondered if this kinda stuff was what Imani was askin’ about.  “Yah did mean ‘what’s on muh mind, dinya?” she asked the new doc. 

“It’s certainly what I mean.” This last reading was automatically saved on the datapad, a small beep later and she was removing the band from Abby’s arm. “Ya know, mental health affects your general health and I'm making it so you’re all good.” She placed the items down then turned to Abby, leaning with her back to the counter. “Any other concerns, health-related or otherwise?"

The girl smiled as a quick mem’ry of tha last time she’s asked that question crossed ‘er mind.  Tha time Alana asked, she had tah admit some embarrassment fer worryin’ ‘bout tha bullet scar on ‘er pi gu and wonderin’ if she could ever wear a bikini.  The Doc had been kind in her assurances, all proved right when Abby did hit tha beach on Pelorum. 

After dousin’ tha smirk, she opened ‘er mouth with another question.  “Cap’n’s told us yer really good in a scrap,” Abby began.  “Ain’t seen yah in action but once, when that Shepherd put ‘is hands on yah.  Weren’t even a tussle,” she shook ‘er head.  “Jest one really slick move an’ he’s beggin’ fer mercy.”  She stepped down from tha treatment table.  “Them bikers what took me?  They’s on me an’ I didn’t have a chance,” Abby said.  “Can’t help wonderin’ how that mighta ended if Ah could handle muhself better.”

Abby’s eyes lifted toward Imani’s.  “I’s wonderin’ if yah could teach me a few things?  So I ain’t so helpless when somethin’ like that happens again?”

“Hope nothing like that happens again soon...but if it did, you want me to train ya some? I’ll gladly teach you a thing or two. For example—“ Imani motioned for Abby to move closer to her. She then turned around, taking Abby’s arm as she went and placed it around her neck. “If someone grabs you from behind, you can do a shin strike and scrape.” The interim medic demonstrated what she meant, placing the side of her shoe on Abby’s shin and guiding it down without putting force in the movement. “You’re first striking their shin, then dragging your foot down forcibly and with some strength behind it.” Imani tapped her arm twice and turned to face the girl. “It works best if his shin’s exposed but then that’d mean he wasn’t wearing any pants.” Imani smiled then laughed a little at her own terrible joke. “You think you got it? That’s just one of a multitude of techniques you can try."

The deckhand followed Imani’s lead, slippin’ ‘er arm about tha woman’s  neck from behind.  Tha new doc’s move weren’t nothin’ she’d seen afore, let alone expected.  A shoe touched ‘er shin with a mild push, then slid down, tha heel trailin’ her shinbone til Imani’s foot come softly down on ‘er own.  

 “You’re first striking their shin, then dragging your foot down forcibly and with some strength behind it.” 

She couldn’t quite conjure how well it worked.  When Imani give ‘er arm coupla taps to let go, Abby’s all set tah try it herself, an’ was jest ‘bout tah ask as much.

“It works best if his shin’s exposed but then that’d mean he wasn’t wearing any pants.”

Like tha crack of a whip, she was right back there.  The bag on ‘er head smelled somethin’ horrible.  Filthy burlap itched on ‘er face where she was bent down on tha table.  She could hear tha knife, workin’ its’ way through her tee shirt an’ bra as Lido cut ‘em  tah scraps.  

“Aaaaabby…”  His voice in ‘er ear…a hand gropin’ ‘er bosoms til it slid down tah pull ‘er denims off.

She growed up bein’ tough, jest like Uncle Bob taught ‘er.  ”Don’t show no weakness, Chick Pea.”  An’ she tried.  All ‘er life, she tried.  But that one moment, as that man…that Lido..hauled ‘er unders down, Abby cried, an’ she begged.  She…begged.

“Aaaaabby…”

The response Imani got wasn’t one she was expecting. It was as if Abby’s mind was suddenly elsewhere. A blank expression on her face, those distant eyes... Imani quickly grew concerned, her hand hovering over the girl’s shoulder but not wanting to scare her.

Her hand clutched tha exam table, holdin’ ‘er steady as Uncle Bob said it again, clear as day.  ”Don’t let it show….don’t let it show…”  From deep inside come tha shame; she fought tah push it back.   It was shiny.  Ever’thing’s shiny.  She’s in Medbay.  Imani’s teachin’ her…teachin’ ‘er some fightin’ moves.   

“You alrighty, Abby? I said something wrong, didn’t I?”

At last, Abby turned toward ‘er newfound instructor. “Nah,” she tried shakin’ it off.  “It’s all shiny. But can Ah ask a favor?  Can we do that again?  Fer real?  Ah wanna know how it feels.”

Imani thought on that for a moment. Abby was big enough to know what she wanted; what she needed. If it’d help her sort out her business in that head of hers, then Imani was more than happy to oblige. “Try to make it realistic then, yeah? Come at me as if you want to choke me ‘til my body gives...” With that, Imani turned away from Abby and walked a few paces away, waiting for the young deckhand to strike.

“Like a choke hold, yeah?  Okay.”  Imani’s back was turnt, an’ she’d moved off coupla paces.  Fer a sec, Abby pondered how much arm strength she oughtta use.  She kinda feared what she’s feelin’, tucked jest beneath ‘er skin as she come forward.  Abby never put nobody in a choke hold afore, but she seen it enough in some of them spy shows she watched.  And fer now, thinkin’ about that was one helluva lot better’n recallin’ that what haunted ‘er dreams most nights.

”When you’re a spy, violence is a tool.  Use it deliberately, and without emotion…”

Everythin’ she ever seen…ever’ time she heard it told, she s’posed tah bury her feelin’s…not let ‘em cloud ‘er judgment or purpose.  Til right now, Abby always thought she did that part right well.  So, why come it is that a joke ‘bout a man not wearin’ pants could knock ‘er so far off kilter?  It was plain as day she’s gon’ need tah think on that a spell.  She’s doin’ it again, gorramit!  Clear your head, jackass!

 Abby conjured it wise tah keep ‘er dominant hand, tha gun hand, free.  She closed tha gap in a single stride, right foot forward, her left arm goin’ around Imani’s neck. Her bicep tensed enough tah make this feel kinda real.  The gun hand hovered behind Imani’s right elbow.

Do no harm.

An ethical code she'd not strayed from. Not yet anyway. Imani was not a licensed physician but she followed similar guidelines.

First it was the couple of steps approaching her, then the arm snaking around her neck. Imani would follow through with Abby's request, though she'd dial it back to prevent major bruising.

When the arm around her tensed, Imani kicked her foot back to make contact with Abby's shin. There was a small jump, as expected. She then scraped down her leg with enough force to make Abby let go, but she didn't dig a much as she could have were she being truly attacked.  

Abby stiffened, knowin’ she’s ‘bout tah get hit, waitin’ fer Imani’s backblow.  I kinda wish I didn’t know…   “OOOOOOOAAAAAUUUUGGGGHHHHH!”  First, tha kick startled ‘er, then a sheet ‘o’ pain rocked Abby from kneecap tah ankle.  It was like that word in her books…ex-cru-ciat-ing…..

”...It works best if his shin’s exposed…”
As Imani’s heel done its’ work, Abby nearabouts regretted wearin’ shorts tah her physical.  She lost ‘er grip on tha medic, doublin’ over afore her hand clutched tha exam table.  ”Xiā hóuzi de érzi!!!, she hollered.  “THAT GORRAM HURT!”

She turned around. The instant regret in the form of a slew of lively language was somewhat satisfying. Imani smirked, shaking her head as if taunting Abby. “I told ya it’d hurt, but now you know it works.”

Funny thing was, a sharp jolt ‘o’ pain like that done more’n jest promise a bruise on Abby’s shin.  All sudden like,her mind was blasted clear of all its’ cobwebs.  An’ that, she reckoned, felt mighty fine.  Mighty fine indeed.  “Hooo, la shi!” she swore as she took tah hobblin’ about.  “Damn if that don’t work!”  A giggle passed ‘er lips.  One blow an’ she’s staggerin’ like ole Rex on a bender.   “Wow, Imani!” Abby bust out laughin’ at herself, “that hurts somethin’ fierce!  Can yah teach me more?  Mebbe have some practices?”

“There’s plenty for your learning, I’ll be glad to teach ya.” She gently guided Abby back onto the table. With a smile, she underhanded the girl’s leg just above the ankle to take a look at the damage. Imani figured it was nothing time wouldn’t solve as she slightly rotated Abby’s leg one way and then the other. The minor scrape and bruising would likely be gone in a couple of days. “Here, let me give ya some aftercare cream,” Imani briefly left Abby’s side, “It ain’t miracle in a bottle but you’ll get a nice tingling feel on your shin. Think of it as my peace offering to you.”

They gave me the day today so here it is!

Name: Amalie of the Ravenscroft Clan
Age: 105 years old 
Species: Fairy

Height: 1ft tall
Weight: 10 lbs

Citizenship: None, exiled status 
Occupation: Nurturer

Background: Amalie has had a difficult past. As quite a young fairy, she'd already found herself in the middle of one of the biggest scandals within her clan as a result of an envious sister. Amalie was loved by all the fairies of the Ravenscroft clan, all but one. Their leader, Demetrius, grew terribly ill one evening after having supper with some fellow clan leaders. Amalie had prepared a delicious meal for them, but when Demetrius could not stop himself from vomiting, nearly everyone suspected Amalie. It was later found out he had ingested magical seeds, that which only Amalie had custody of. Needless to say, no one entertained the idea that her sister, Ginny, was behind it all. Subsequent to Demetrius' death, Amalie was stripped of her magical power and ousted from the clan, all while being completely innocent. 

Inventory: 

Seeds, both magical and normal.
A ladybug often wondering about. They both communicate with each other often.
A piece of small rope.
A magical key

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