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The profound bass roar of a refurbished engine and the highly unfamiliar sound of rubber meeting road echoes down the street like a harbinger of doom. Or, lacking doom, a -really awesome car-. Apparently, Alhambra figured out the best way to knock off drinking would be to go for a drive, and it seems like she's just heading back to Spirit Ink now in her rebuilt spirit of American Apocalypse Chic. Vrooooom. Rrrrrrr. Vroooom.
It's really, really difficult to look suave when you've got a massive bear trap piercing your boot leather and biting into your bone. But Rowland still walks down the fused sand sidewalks with the chain and stake trailing behind him, as if nothing's wrong at all. He even tips his pith helmet at passing Pyracani and offers a few 'good evenings' as he hums a pleasant tune. A brow lifts at Alhambra's super sweet car.
A hovertruck pulls up to a stop in front of the Government Building and the sheriff steps out of the passenger compartment. He looks somewhat haggard and is noticeably not on horseback. He spots the car and smiles faintly, shaking his head. "No," he says into his commlink, "He has not manifested at all."
Brrrmmmmrrrr, says the super sweet car. Inside, Alhambra can be seen looking Rowland over with an expression of disbelief. "Dude," she drawls. "Maybe you should get the hell in the car." She leans over the passenger seat and opens the door on that side before leaning out the driver's side window again. "Howdy, Sheriff. Things still shitty?"
Rowland Parnell waves his hand dismissively, "Oh my dear lady, it's fine, I'm nearly to the medical- ..." With a grunt, he slides into the passenger seat and gingerly lifts his leg inside. "Shitty?" It's then he realizes she's speaking to Lyddmull, and offers up a weary salute.
Lyddmull waves the salute off, dipping his head towards the man. He offers Alhambra a slight bow. "In a word," he says, "Yes. But at least I have a feeling that I may know where he is so that I was able to open traffic on and off the island again."
"You're wearin' a bear trap, man," Alhambra replies, matter-of-factly, reaching across Parnell to shut the door. "You know that shit ain't a fashion statement, right?" She makes a hatless hat-tipping gesture to Lyddmull. "I will buzz the hell out of you if I see that goddamn fruitbucket lintball sonofabitch. I mean you can't miss him."
Rowland Parnell just wrings his hands, leaning back in the seat. "Yes, I... Lost track of where I had set this one up," he mumbles, not too proud of this predicament. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to get blood all over the upholstery..." It takes him a good moment to realize who they're speaking of. "That mad ghost fellow? I've been keeping an eye open myself. But I have a feeling he shan't be hard to find. Just follow the trail of trouble."
"Thank you," Lyddmull tells Alhambra, "Mind if I ride along. I need to check in up there myself for any wounds that indicate violent action." He sighs, shaking his head, "I never used to have to do that."
"Honey, that's why the upholstery is black," Al replies to Rowland, in that earnest, nonjudgmental way she has. She opens the driver's side, gets out, and pushes her seat forward so that Lyddmull can get in the back. "Sure thing, I'ma bring his fella over to the field tent and get this thing offa his foot before he comes manfully close to passing out since who the hell knows how far he's walked already. Everybody in, let's go for a drive, whoo."
"So I see! I really ought to get a license at some point. This is quite a nice-looking automobile... Ah, I heard your husband was set free. Glad for that. Sorry about the... treatment. It was a long day." Rowland gets some rather odd looks from citizens as he gestures avidly with his hands covered in blood.
Lyddmull climbs into the back of the car, pulling the driver's seat into an upright position as he does so. "Yes," he says gravely, "I saw a little of that myself. I had to send Henries packing the other day."
"We ain't married," Al drawls, even as she gets into the driver's seat and gives the engine a good solid vrooming before driving in an uncharacteristically careful manner towards the hospital. "And yes, it was a long day, but since I respect our Sheriff and the law I did not make you eat your own boot whilst you was still wearin' it." The entire conversation is delivered with both casual drawl and casual expression. As she slows at an intersection, she leans back to look into the back seat. "By the way, that was fucking awesome, sir." Vroooom.
"...I must've missed something. Though that explains why I haven't seen him around. What happened exactly, if I may ask, sir?" Rowland peers over his shoulder at Lyddmull as they vroooom to the tent in Alhambra's super sweet ride.
Vessa Harden is leaving the med tent herself with the left side of her face covered in a huge bandage across the cheek when they come in, "Hello there, what is this then?" she gives a salute to Lydd as he enters
"The Riftwalker, Starsky," the Seamel says quietly, leaning back in the seat, "He was being held on charges of assault and battery, a relatively minor charge, and this morning decided to attempt to escape. He teleported out of the station and we just found a witness that says that they saw him appear outside the government building, then fade away. I have a hunch that if we wait long enough, he might reappear there." Lyddmull is in the back seat of Alhambra's car as it pulls up.
Vroooom, says Alhambra's sweet car, as they pull to a stop outside of the med tent. "Whut the hell happened to your face, Missy Vessa?" She 'greets', before pulling out her PDA. "Meers here, can we get us a wheelchair out front I got a fella with a bear trap on his ankle and I don't want him walking on it no more." Quick as a wink, a couple of interns come pelting out through the door flap with a wheel chair. It doesn't really need to be explained as to who needs it. Bear trap. "In you go, dude." She gets out of the car.
"Oh bloody hell, I know what happened to that sorry Starsky bludger, I'm talking about Henries!" Rowland replies as he slowly makes his way out of the car onto one foot. "No no, I've got it, I've got it!" He assures, trying to fend off the interns and the wheel chair. "It's no trouble," he goes on to wince, hobbling towards the tent entrance, trailing spots of blood on the sand. "I just need a band-aid!"
Vessa Harden looks concerned and moves to be helpful if she is needed, "Uh Si Fu and I had a spar and he thought I needed to learn that an opponent would not likely follow the rules so whipped out a metal fan in a hand to hand spar. Caught it across the face and Doc Miranda patched me up. Anything I can help with?" she moves and wraps one arm around Rowlands waist taking most of his weight as he walks, "Starsky escaped? I would like to be there to help with the capture if I could."
Lyddmull eyes Parnell with incredulous curiosity before turning towards Vessa to wave off her salute. "Why does everyone keep doing that?" he asks of nobody in particular. He sighs, dipping his head towards the DMCer, "I would appreciate that. Feel free to bring a psi blocker if you have one. The more, the better."
"Maybe you should stop blocking shit with your face, Missy Vessa," Alhambra drawls, and then adds, in Rowland's direction, "Dude, so help me you don't stop protesting and I will give you something to make -me- feel better." If allowed, Al, the two interns, and Missy Vessa will hopefully get the complaining Mayor of Crumpetville into the tent and onto a gurney.
Rowland Parnell fusses rather relentlessly as Vessa attempts to help keep the weight off his leg. "Unhand me, I-" But Alhambra makes him shut right up, at least for now. He submits like a persian kitten forced into a bath, and just hunches over. But he refuses to lie down on the gurney, and attempts to remove the trap himself. "Someone get me some pliers and whiskey!"
Vessa Harden forcibly tries to sit him on the gurney and remove the fumbling hands, "Look here dude, if you don't stop that then I will sit on you while Al does her thing. I might be a pain in the ass as a patient but even I like to keep my limbs attached. Let them do their thing." she looks over at Lydd, "I do it cause I am military and that is what we do when we see superior officers, I don't currently have a psi-blocker but I very much am looking into getting one." she then laughs at Al's words, "I will work on that Al. So, how did the Starsky guy get out of a psi blocked cell? I didn't think that was possible."
"Nor did I," the Seamel says with a grimace, shaking his head, "If I had not seen it with my own eyes, I still wouldn't believe it. If a Riftwalker cannot be contained with a psi blocker, I am not certain what can be done." He sighs in frustration, then goes to talk to anyone resembling reception to get a list of injuries from the past twenty-four hours. Vessa and Alhambra are helping Rowland into the medical pavilion.
"Oh for shit's sake, lie the hell down." Such lovely bedside manner Alhambra has. "All right let's get a pry bar over here so once we get the damn thing off it stays off," she hollers, "And I'll need a puncture care kit and sixty milligrams of fussy patient blend." Her usual half-grin turns wolfish, and she leans over to Rowland. "If you're good, you get it in the arm. If you keep squirming, you're gonna get it in the ass. Choose wisely, Cheerio. Heh heh. Damn good thing I decided to go driving instead of drinking, I coulda missed this." The requested items start being delivered. Alhambra rolls up her sleeves, washes her hands, and puts on some gloves. "So what's it gonna be, hon?"
Rowland Parnell leans the hell away from Alhambra, eyes wide. At the 'cheerio', he looks mildly offended, tossing away his cap. "Listen here now, missy medic!" He wags his finger, all bluster, not quite hearing the talk of psi blockers. "I've been on battlefields before! I don't need any of your voodoo jungle shots!" With a solid nod and a snort, he continues to pry and tug at the metal around his shin with little success and plenty of blood.
Ikin steps into the Eiru medical pavilion, blinks at the scene, and immediately decides to turn around and head right back out. And then, like his alter ego "Captain indecisive", the giant bird-man turns right back around and stands there awkwardly, "Uh... Can I... Help? Or something?" He sputters out in his usual stammering voice.
Vessa Harden pulls the hands completely away and, still holding the hands, she hops up on the gurney as well and actually uses her body weight to attempt to make Rowland lay down, should she succeed she will keep his hands contained and sit on his stomach. "Oh just do what the woman says, god, MEN!"
"All right, you asked for it," Al drawls, with a brief pause before climbing -onto- the gurney to call "Hey, Little buddy! Yeah can you do me a favor and pull that privacy wall over a bit, I'm about to embarrass this guy right here." Putting the syringe between her teeth, unfortunately precluding any more smart remarks, Alhambra (with the player's permission) grapples the struggling Great White Hunter and rolls him onto his Great White Face. When she has him under control enough to get a hand free, she uncaps the syringe with her teeth and jabs the needle right through his pants and into his Great White Tuckus.
Rowland Parnell didn't expect Al to /mount/ the gurney. He also didn't expect to be grappled by the big bear of a medic. "Goodness gracious, woman! Get off me before I-!" He's flipped right over with surprising strength, and before he can push up off the pillow, Alhambra's got a needle in his ass. "SWEET HELL!" he exclaims, then slumps onto his front. No more fussing from him now.
Ikin of course, immediately throws the privacy curtain shut with all the strength he can muster. Needless to say, it doesn't go very fast, or shut all the way. As a result, big bird doesn't get to actually SEE what's going on in there, but he certainly gets to hear it in much the same way as an offscreen rumble in a cartoon. Which really only makes it sound that much worse, of course.
Vessa Harden releases the hands and steps back before peeking around the curtain, "Hello there." she greets Ikin before looking back to watch the medics work out of the way.
Alhambra chortles between panting breaths. "Heh heh. 'Goodness gracious'. What a frigging teatipper this guy is." And, now that he's most likely somewhere between 'feeling no pain' and 'ooh pretty fairies,' she sets to the serious work; between her strength and help from the interns and a pry bar, the bear trap is levered off. Punctured boots and socks, if any, are removed, and the bloodied pants leg is rolled up. Without getting up off of the gurney, in case someone shakes off his drugs, she washes the wounds out before inspecting them for foreign matter and/or a need for stitches.
Rowland Parnell growls and snarls for all of five seconds before he dissolves into a light-hearted song from England, "I went into the forest some flowers to find there... and there I did pick my love a posyyy... Haha, oh my, mind where your fingers wander, missy medic!" He'll just need a few stitches. "Don't lose that trap, now, they're expensive! By god, look at that giant eagle!" He points weakly at poor Ikin. "Someone fetch me my rifle!"
Ikin waves shyly to Vessa before attempting to smooth down some of his more puffed up feathers. The over-sized bird almost gets them all smoothed down before the rifle comment, and then *PUFF* right back up they go. Squawking out some curses in Falarese, Ikin attempts to groom them back down once more, "Uh... Hi."
Vessa Harden laughs at Rowland's antics before turning to Ikin, "Don't mind him, he is likely not overly aware of what is going on. My name is Vessa, nice to meet you." she moves to block Rowland's view of Ikin though with her short stature and small person she likely fails rather spectacularly at this. She and Ikin are standing by a privacy screen while Al is on the gurney cleaning Rowland's wound as he is completely high from what Al stuck him in the ass with.
Considering as Alhambra is basically almost sitting on Rowland's legs at this point, she's not overly bothered about decorum. Although really, when is she? "Don't worry about it, little buddy, he ain't got a rifle on him, and when he wakes up I'll just tell him that if he does try to shoot you, I will make him eat his own boot." All jesting aside, she falls quiet as she sets to work suturing the now cleaned out... bear trap wounds. Well, that's a new one.
"Look at that, haaa, he's all puffed like a frilly lizard," Rowland nearly sing-songs, then goes completely limp, face in his pillow. "Just going to rest my eyes a bit, ladies, worry not... Not dead yet!" With this, he appears to pass out, or at least doze.
"Oh. Alright... Erm... I'm Ikin. " Ikin says rapidly twisting his head around nervously to take in his surroundings, much like a nervous bird is wont to do. "Erm... I'm uh... An Engineer... Kind of... Uh... Programmer.... Developer... Erm... I make ships, kind of... Not got enough capital to really... yeah..." The over-sized bird trails off in the middle of his sentence.
Lyddmull returns from his investigating, seeming a bit relieved for the moment. He looks over at Vessa with a faint smile. "I hear you have been getting yourself into trouble again," he says simply.
Vessa Harden ignores the passed out hunter and his current jailor as she nods to Ikin, "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you Ikin, I just got myself a ship. I have to admit to being completely useless and ignorant when it comes to them, perhaps you can tell me if it is a good one." she says with a friendly smile before looking at Lydd with an overly innocent face, "I have no idea what you mean Sheriff. Trouble? Me? Why I am the very opposite of such a thing." she grins, "What specifically are you referring to though?"
Alhambra continues stitching, serious until the job is done and wounds are stitched, salved, and bandaged. A nurse brings over the Hiverspace equivalent of a broad-spectrum tetanus shot, which, since he's being a good boy, is gently injected into Rowland's arm instead of his other cheek. Also gently, she rolls him over, props his leg up, and un-musses his wrestle-tousled hair. "God, I love that shit," she says, dismounting the gurney and tossing the needle of happiness as well as the other needle into a sharps bin before disposing of bloodied gauze and etc in the bio-hazard bin. Then, she goes to wash up again, whistling.
"Uh... Maybe... I dunno... I mean, I guess I could look at it." Ikin says scratching the side of his beak, which is completely pointless as his beak doesn't have any feeling in it. Of course, the bird never stops fidgeting so that's about par for the course for those who know him.
"The injuries," Lyddmull says with a chuckle, "You need to learn to take it easy. If you continue to abuse your body in this manner, it shall eventually begin to complain."
Vessa Harden grins happily at Ikin, "Thanks dude," she then turns a grin on Lydd as well with a bit of a shrug, "I take it easy, I mean it was just a simple spar. Wasn't that hard of a hit," she pauses a moment and adds quietly, "ish." then continues louder, "Besides, it was fun. Been feeling the need for a good spar and not had much of a chance recently, great stress relief and as there have been a distinct lack of offers for the other form of stress relief, well, I take what I can get." she ends with another cheerful shrug.
Remaining cheek spared, Rowland just grins dopily when Alhambra rolls him back over and straightens his hair. Numb to his patched up leg, he just lies back, hands behind his head, still high as a kite as he hums his tune. "Ssssir," he slurs to Lyddmull, "I thhhink I require a psssi-blocker as well."
"You are talking to a brick wall in that respect, Sheriff, I will warn you in advance," Alhambra calls over the sound of running water as she continues to wash antiseptic, blood, dirty bear trap scudge and wound salve off of her hands. And forearm. And some off of her jaw. Damn squirmy patients.
"Yes, well," the Seamel says with a chuckle, "Even a simple spar can cause damage. Trust me." He nods to Alhambra with a faint grin before glancing at Rowland. "I shall take that under advisement," he says with an arched eyebrow.
"Uh... Akamatsu?" Ikin asks, tilting his head to one side at Vessa, "Erm... Uh..." the big bird fidgets around and glances over at Alhambra, "Erm... What uh... What happened... To that guy...?"
Vessa Harden puts her arms behind her back and rocks on her heels with a grin, "Oh I know it can, lesse. Four spars and four injuries, thankfully only one of them truly kept me out of the action for any length of time. Akamatsu is my teacher and was my sparring partner" she asides to Ikin
"Thhhank you, sir," Rowland hums, offering Lyddmull another haphazard salute, in which he ends up smacking the bridge of his own nose. Then, lifting an invisible rifle, he levels it on Ikin and pretends to fire, even making his own dying eagle noises.
"He gave me a hard time," Alhambra drawls as she clomps back over, drying her hands on a nearby towel, pausing only as she passes Rowland's gurney to aim a slap at the 'upside' area of his head.
"How has he been doing," the Seamel asks Vessa curiously, "I had half-expected to find him at the center of the recent string of insanity. I was gratified to see that he was not. He is a brave soul, and I have no wish to prevent him from visiting the island."
Ikin shrugs and says "Erm... It's no issue... I mean, as long as your ship isn't erm... like... your child or something... I don't know... How do you guys put it..." he looks vaguely confused for a moment before shrugging, "Erm... I mean... I have to critique it and all...."
Vessa Harden considers Lydd's question, "He was on some mission he wouldn't say more about and was tired it seems. Other than that and a bruised ego he seemed fine. I do know that he was a bit perturbed by the inability to bring in all of his weapons when he came to the tavern." she smiles at Ikin, "I haven't even seen it yet, I got a message it got delivered but that is about it." she rubs her hands, her expression one of absolute glee, "Didn't even have to pay for it and the sucker who used to own it actually cried when I last saw him."
"I see," the Seamel says with a nod, "And how was the party that Lady Lomasa was planning?"
Alhambra goes back to drying her hands, walking by Rowland's gurney after administering the whappage without turning around to see him flop back onto his pillow with a most likely daffy expression. "You making the boys cry again, Missy Vessa," she drawls, when she finally reaches the group.
"Erm... free... and he cried? Oh dear... uh... how'd you... manage that." Ikin asks, fidgeting a lot more noticeably now, "Erm... Does she do that a lot?" Ikin asks, turning his head towards Alhambra, "I mean, not that I'd have anything to worry about...."
Vessa Harden smiles widely, "The gala was a hit, lots of people showed and it went wonderfully, I must admit Sheriff that I was surprised not to see you there yourself. We will be heading off fairly soon it seems on an exploration of a new planet." once more she rubs her hands excitedly, "I am rather looking forward to it myself," she then looks with amusement at first Al then Ikin, "The gentleman who once owned my new vessel decided that he was such a man he would drink copious amounts of alcohol, mix it with some substance that gave him far more than liquid courage ever could, and then challenge an entire bar to an arm wrestling competition. He got through all of the guys there, after putting up his ship as collateral, and then I fluttered my eyelashes and asked if he would give me a whirl. He didn't even ask for me to put anything up for the bet either, and I did make sure he was putting the ship up if he lost. He agreed and hey, he lost. He was going to try and run off with it but the rest of the bar not only made him pony up but agree to pay for it to be cleaned and repaired." she finishes with the most wicked grin imaginable.
Lyddmull chuckles quietly and nods. "Excellent," the Seamel says, "I am very happy for Lady Lomasa. She has done quite well for herself, considering what she started from when she first arrived here in Hiverspace."
"Just don't spar with her, little buddy," Alhambra drawls, reassuringly, to Ikin. "She just likes fighting, like Aka does. Although it seems that she blocks with her head. Heh heh." She puts a hand in her pocket and shrugs a bit. "Missy Katrin's a real nice lady, but, I ain't one for fancy parties."
"Huh? Oh. I mean, yeah, that's good... I guess I'll have to take a look at it... I mean, it's probably going to be full of problems... Erm... Somebody like that... They probably don't uh... take care of the thing..." Ikin fidgets his wings, though he keeps them quite neatly folded behind his back "I mean, I can get it running better, but I dunno... I'm good at that sort of thing... I guess... Sort of..." Alhambra's comment gets his attention, "Erm... I don't usually spar... I mean, I can, but I've only done it once when nobody ordered me to... Erm... And even then I had at least a stick..."
Vessa Harden sticks her tongue out at Al, "I don't block with my face, and in a real fight I wouldn't be anywhere near the opponent anyway. I just like a good spar. A spar is not a real fight, it is fun." she nods at Lydd, "Oh she seems to be doing fine, and now if we can keep the Tavern safe from any more violence then that would be better still. The increased security seems to be helping folks feel safer at the least." she grins over at Ikin, "Don't worry, dispite what /some/ people are making it sound like, I am /not/ Aka, and I do not ask to fight everyone I meet. If you can get her running even faster then all the power to you, you would be my hero for sure."