She closed her eyes for just a moment, wincing with pain as the doctor applied yet another bandage to stem the flow of blood from her throat. Rebecca's voice faded away, indistinguishable
( Read more... )
Hawkeye usually stuck to the paths and the beach, but every so often he'd get an urge to wander into the jungle just to see if anything interesting could be found. At the very least, he usually managed to find things worth eating.
He was just standing and pondering the best way to pick a prickly pawpaw without hurting his hand, when there was a sudden movement on the edge of his peripheral vision. He turned, expecting to see a wild boar or maybe a large jungle fowl, but instead was faced by a woman with a bandaged neck.
He frowned.
"Are you alright there?" he said. "I can get you a better bandage than that."
Riza had been wandering the jungle for awhile. Her military training had not included jungle survival techniques -- who needed them when the main battlefield was the desert wasteland of Ishbal? She knew she had to find a source of water, but how was another question entirely. She could hardly hear anything about the noises of wildlife.
She was both wary and grateful, then, to stumble upon another human being. He didn't notice her at first, and she took a moment to hunt around for a branch or something that she could use as a weapon, if necessary. That movement caught his attention, though, and he turned to face her before she could find anything.
"What is this place?" She ignores the pleasantries; it hurts to talk. "How did I get here?"
"What is this place? Nobody knows. How'd you get here? Nobody knows that, either," he said, shrugging. "The only thing we do know is that once you're here, you can't leave. That's not so bad though, since as long as you don't mind a little occasional surrealism, it's not a bad place to be."
He smiled widely, hoping to convey that despite the strangeness of what he was saying, it really wasn't anything to worry about.
"Now, seriously, we ought to see about your neck injury. The Compound clinic's not far from here."
His smile was not particularly reassuring. There was nothing reassuring about being brought to an unknown place by unknown means and being unable to leave.
She hesitated a moment at the suggestion to go to the Compound clinic, but really, it was the only sensible decision. Her injury needed care, and she needed people in order to get more information.
She leaned over again and found a branch of sufficient size to be a weapon. Perhaps at the clinic she could find a real one, too.
She nodded slightly to indicate that he should lead the way.
Not the talkative type, then. If Hawkeye didn't know better, he'd think the island had some kind of specific thing about tough blonde military gals. (Shame that none of them were the tough blonde military gal that he knew.)
"I don't think you're gonna need that stick," he remarked. "There's nothing dangerous here asides from pigs and chickens. And dinosaurs, but they're only up north."
They broke out of the forest covering and onto the grass. The Compound was visible about fifty yards in the distance.
"The Compound's just up there," Hawkeye said, pointing ahead of them. "Once you're fixed up, I'll give you the tour."
Dinosaurs? Riza arched an eyebrow. She had thought dinosaurs were just a myth. What place was this, where myths walked freely?
She hung onto the stick, pathetic weapon that it was. It would do until she could get her hands on a pistol. This strange man had yet to do anything to really convince her that she was safe.
"Nobody, really," Hawkeye said, shrugging. "To all intents and purposes, this place is an anarchist commune, but without the poor personal hygiene and political agitation that'd usually imply. We've got a council, and a police force of sorts, but there's no real government. People just help out with what they can."
He was amazed at how well it worked, but he suspected it was largely due to the small size of the community and the constant supply of food. If resources were scarce, there'd be a lot more jostling for place going on.
"Did they ever make you read that book Swiss Family Robinson when you were little? It's like that, but without the moralising."
Riza was beginning to wonder if this was all just a dream. A place without a government? That was all but impossible to imagine. Even the Isbhalans had their tribal elders to make and enforce the laws of their people. How could any place function in such a way?
She shook her head slightly, both to marvel at the lack of government and at the mention of the book.
"I don't know it," she said. "How many people live here?"
"Two hundred, three hundred, maybe," Hawkeye said, making a vague estimate based solely on how many people he generally saw milling around. "It's hard to count up, because people tend to leave here as abruptly as they arrive. This island isn't very considerate in that regard - in fact, the island isn't considerate at all. That's one of the first lessons you learn here."
He looked down at the woman, well aware of how much this was to take in at once, and how unlikely she was to believe most of it. He hadn't believed any of it when he'd first arrived, and he wasn't completely sure he did now.
"The main thing you need to understand about this place is that it doesn't make much sense. Just accept that now instead of fighting it, and you'll settle in much faster," he said, and smiled wryly. "Which shouldn't be too hard if I'm guessing right and you're a soldier. The army doesn't make any sense either."
Hadn't he just said you couldn't leave? Riza filed that under "deeply suspicious," her head too clouded with pain and the onslaught of information to work out the logical conclusion.
His crack about the army doesn't get a smile -- it's too true to amuse. She had spent years immersed in subterfuge, political intrigue, guerrilla warfare, and then the recent madness with the immortal army, the homunculi, their Father and his god...no, the army didn't make any sense at all. Insanity was mundane, really.
"You're a soldier yourself." It was more a statement than a question; he spoke like a veteran, and there was something of a warrior in how he carried himself, subtle but definitely present.
"You take that back!" Hawkeye said, his tone haughty but with a smile on his face. He stopped slouching and drew himself up to his full height, jaw jutting out defensively. "I'm not a soldier, I'm a surgeon. Okay, yeah, for a while back there I was forced to serve in a pointless war, but I've never done any of what you'd call actual soldiering. I just stayed behind the lines and did my best to repair the damage."
It was something of a sore point with him. They could make him wear the same drab clothing day in day out, force him to eat military slop and submit to orders and drills, but he had always done all that was in his power to be something other than another cog in the great meat-grinder.
"That's why I'm so keen to get your dressing changed. I can't pass an injured person without wanting to butt in and fix things my own way," he went on.
A pointless war. She remembered when she thought Ishbal was a pointless war, a senseless slaughter. Now that she knew its true purpose, the memories grew even more bitter. But you lived with the choices you made.
"That seems to be a common ailment among doctors," she said, the faintest hint of wry humor in her voice.
"It's the burden we have to bear," Hawkeye said, with a hand over his heart and a pious roll of his eyes skyward. By this time, they were nearly at their destination, and Hawkeye came to a stop by the doorway.
"And behold, the Compound! All modern conveniences provided - kitchen, bedrooms, recreational area complete with evil magical bookcase, and of course, the clinic," he said, and gestured dramatically towards the door. "Ladies first."
Riza hesitated. The man seemed harmless, but that meant nothing. For all she knew, he had been feeding her lies and this was some elaborate set up. A set up to what, she couldn't imagine, but considering her life for the past few years had been a set up to a plot of unimaginable evil, that was hardly reassuring. If there was a trap beyond that doorway, she did not want him standing between her and the exit.
"You take that back," she said, throwing a bit of his humor back at him as a shield. "I am not a lady; I'm a soldier." She stood stock still, waiting for him to lead the way, and ready to run if he pushed the issue.
Hawkeye snickered. Oh, if only Margaret were here; her and the newcomer would get on like a house on fire. Or else tear each other apart. It was always hard to tell with that kind of woman.
"Right you are, ma'am," he said, giving her a little salute. He sauntered on ahead into the Compound, and waited her to follow on in. "Come on. It's perfectly safe. Asides from the lions, of course, but that's where that stick of yours'll come in handy."
He paused, remembering that flippant surrealism didn't always go down well with career military sorts.
"That's a joke, by the way. The Compound is guaranteed one hundred percent lion-free."
He was just standing and pondering the best way to pick a prickly pawpaw without hurting his hand, when there was a sudden movement on the edge of his peripheral vision. He turned, expecting to see a wild boar or maybe a large jungle fowl, but instead was faced by a woman with a bandaged neck.
He frowned.
"Are you alright there?" he said. "I can get you a better bandage than that."
Reply
She was both wary and grateful, then, to stumble upon another human being. He didn't notice her at first, and she took a moment to hunt around for a branch or something that she could use as a weapon, if necessary. That movement caught his attention, though, and he turned to face her before she could find anything.
"What is this place?" She ignores the pleasantries; it hurts to talk. "How did I get here?"
Reply
"What is this place? Nobody knows. How'd you get here? Nobody knows that, either," he said, shrugging. "The only thing we do know is that once you're here, you can't leave. That's not so bad though, since as long as you don't mind a little occasional surrealism, it's not a bad place to be."
He smiled widely, hoping to convey that despite the strangeness of what he was saying, it really wasn't anything to worry about.
"Now, seriously, we ought to see about your neck injury. The Compound clinic's not far from here."
Reply
She hesitated a moment at the suggestion to go to the Compound clinic, but really, it was the only sensible decision. Her injury needed care, and she needed people in order to get more information.
She leaned over again and found a branch of sufficient size to be a weapon. Perhaps at the clinic she could find a real one, too.
She nodded slightly to indicate that he should lead the way.
Reply
"I don't think you're gonna need that stick," he remarked. "There's nothing dangerous here asides from pigs and chickens. And dinosaurs, but they're only up north."
They broke out of the forest covering and onto the grass. The Compound was visible about fifty yards in the distance.
"The Compound's just up there," Hawkeye said, pointing ahead of them. "Once you're fixed up, I'll give you the tour."
Reply
She hung onto the stick, pathetic weapon that it was. It would do until she could get her hands on a pistol. This strange man had yet to do anything to really convince her that she was safe.
"Who runs the compound?" she asked.
Reply
"Nobody, really," Hawkeye said, shrugging. "To all intents and purposes, this place is an anarchist commune, but without the poor personal hygiene and political agitation that'd usually imply. We've got a council, and a police force of sorts, but there's no real government. People just help out with what they can."
He was amazed at how well it worked, but he suspected it was largely due to the small size of the community and the constant supply of food. If resources were scarce, there'd be a lot more jostling for place going on.
"Did they ever make you read that book Swiss Family Robinson when you were little? It's like that, but without the moralising."
Reply
She shook her head slightly, both to marvel at the lack of government and at the mention of the book.
"I don't know it," she said. "How many people live here?"
Reply
He looked down at the woman, well aware of how much this was to take in at once, and how unlikely she was to believe most of it. He hadn't believed any of it when he'd first arrived, and he wasn't completely sure he did now.
"The main thing you need to understand about this place is that it doesn't make much sense. Just accept that now instead of fighting it, and you'll settle in much faster," he said, and smiled wryly. "Which shouldn't be too hard if I'm guessing right and you're a soldier. The army doesn't make any sense either."
Reply
His crack about the army doesn't get a smile -- it's too true to amuse. She had spent years immersed in subterfuge, political intrigue, guerrilla warfare, and then the recent madness with the immortal army, the homunculi, their Father and his god...no, the army didn't make any sense at all. Insanity was mundane, really.
"You're a soldier yourself." It was more a statement than a question; he spoke like a veteran, and there was something of a warrior in how he carried himself, subtle but definitely present.
Reply
It was something of a sore point with him. They could make him wear the same drab clothing day in day out, force him to eat military slop and submit to orders and drills, but he had always done all that was in his power to be something other than another cog in the great meat-grinder.
"That's why I'm so keen to get your dressing changed. I can't pass an injured person without wanting to butt in and fix things my own way," he went on.
Reply
"That seems to be a common ailment among doctors," she said, the faintest hint of wry humor in her voice.
Reply
"And behold, the Compound! All modern conveniences provided - kitchen, bedrooms, recreational area complete with evil magical bookcase, and of course, the clinic," he said, and gestured dramatically towards the door. "Ladies first."
Reply
"You take that back," she said, throwing a bit of his humor back at him as a shield. "I am not a lady; I'm a soldier." She stood stock still, waiting for him to lead the way, and ready to run if he pushed the issue.
Reply
"Right you are, ma'am," he said, giving her a little salute. He sauntered on ahead into the Compound, and waited her to follow on in. "Come on. It's perfectly safe. Asides from the lions, of course, but that's where that stick of yours'll come in handy."
He paused, remembering that flippant surrealism didn't always go down well with career military sorts.
"That's a joke, by the way. The Compound is guaranteed one hundred percent lion-free."
Reply
"Do you have a name, Doctor?" she asked. "In case I need to file a complaint."
Reply
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