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Post by Achille on Nov 22, 2012 14:43:53 GMT -6
Achille looked up from cutting the bread toward Eric's voice. "Two? Mmmm I suppose that will do." He jammed the knife he was using into the cutting board and wiped his hands on a towel. "What kind of wine is it exactly? Tell me it isn't any of that French stuff? Damn Croakers wouldn't know real wine if it bit them in the ass." He moved reached over and grabbed a bar of butter off the counter along with a spreading knife, ripping the wrapping off the butter and spreading it on the freshly cut bread.
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 22, 2012 15:52:50 GMT -6
Once he got to the ward, Ian was able to get a closer look at his foot. Positioning himself across the bed in the room, he carefully laid his right leg out in front of him to inspect the wound. As far as the Medic could tell, his foot didn't look or really feel broken. It still hurt though, and was showing signs of swelling -- so it was probably fractured quite a bit.
To accommodate this, Ian reached over to the nearby counter and grabbed one of the compression wraps laying on top. He made sure it was tightened just right as he carefully fastened it around his foot. Once that was done, he retrieved an ice pack from the freezer to reduce the swelling. He figured those two items alone should be enough... well, at least he hoped so. It would be bad for his job if he had to put himself in something like a brace or a cast because of an injury. To help prevent this, he made a mental note to be more careful from now on.
Honestly, after what went down in the basement, Ian wasn't really feeling up to interacting with his teammates anymore. However, his lingering hunger argued with him -- and the light scent of pizza emanating from the commons was just barely enough to change his mind. With a pensive sigh, he walked towards the kitchen for the fourth time that night.
Again, he didn't say anything when he entered, making a beeline for his chair in order to get off of his bad foot. Once he sat down, he moved a third chair in front of his own and propped his foot and the ice pack on top of it. Observing his present team... Achille looked to be completely oblivious to what happened to them; Eric seemed to be trying her best to keep her cool as well. He made sure to shoot her a glare before putting a bit of pressure on the ice pack and returning to his crossword puzzle.
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Post by Eric on Nov 22, 2012 18:28:48 GMT -6
"Uh yeah one of them is-" She paused as Ian reentered the room, noticing his now bandaged foot. It probably would have been helpful if someone had been in the basement to help him up and to the ward instead of, y'know, running away like a frightened puppy. "Uh, hey..." Eric tried to catch his attention, but when she did catch the medics eye, he merely scowled at her. Well, so much for that. The scout sighed and stared down at her feet, not caring about the rising heat in her cheeks. "One wine looks American if that'll do," she managed to mutter before shuffling to one of the chairs still pulled out from the table. Maybe it would be better if she just went to bed. Sure, the pizza was already smelling good, but a delicious midnight snack didn't seem worth sitting around feeling uneasy and guilty.
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Post by Achille on Nov 23, 2012 19:38:59 GMT -6
Achille noted a bit of tension in the air but chose to ignore it for now. Good food and alcohol tended to loosen lips anyway so chances were that he would figure out what was up soon anyway. In the meantime, he had to deal with the less than perfect selection of wine Eric had returned with. "American..." His face showed he wasn't enthused with the prospect of drinking the glorified grape juice. "I suppose it will have to do. Next time we go out I'm picking up some Italian wine. And more bourbon." Finished with spreading the butter, Achille began to sprinkle the bread with garlic and other spices, willing the room with even more pleasant smells. Once he had finished with that he stacked the bread on a plate and placed the plate near Eric and Ian.
"Well," He said as he proceeded to pull out glasses that were in no way meant to house wine, "let's eat."
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 24, 2012 2:06:50 GMT -6
Making very little effort to look away from his book, Ian claimed a slice of bread for himself. He took a decent-sized bite and swallowed, a small grunt of approval following shortly after. It was good -- not pizza, but it would definitely hold him over until the pie in the oven was finished baking. "This tastes great, Achille... thanks." He commented with a stiff voice, relieved that his stomach was finally being satisfied.
Now that he had food in front of him, Ian's mood lightened a bit. He glanced up and looked around, unaware of the torn up expression Eric was now displaying. Once he saw her though, it caused him to frown again. Well... He knew her feelings were well-deserved, but the Medic found himself unable to be too mad after seeing the Scout's own state. He'd probably just give her a break; it wasn't her fault those things happened, after all. Speaking of that, what did happen? Were they supposed to just shrug the events in the basement off and forget about them? Would that even be possible? Probably not. For some reason, he saw the incident being brought up again in the near future.
Hearing the sudden clanging of glass near the cabinets, Ian turned his head. That's when he noticed Achille digging out some glassware that... wasn't really for wine at all. "Uh, hey... there's some actual wine glasses on the shelf above that one, if you'd rather have those." At least, that's where the young man remembered seeing them the last time he did the dishes.
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Post by Eric on Nov 24, 2012 15:15:54 GMT -6
Any thoughts of leaving she had were quashed by the scent coming off of garlic bread. She reached over and plucked one of the slices off of the top of plate, making sure to mutter, "thanks, Achille," before taking a bite. Now that was some fine-ass garlic bread. Already she was feeling a little better. Halfway through chewing, she caught Ian's eye and gave him a sheepish grin. "Soh, uhm," she paused to swallow, "is your foot ok?"
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Post by Achille on Nov 25, 2012 21:25:34 GMT -6
"First rule of drinking wine Ian," Achille said as he set the glasses down and opened up a bottle of wine, "If you have to drink it, drink a lot of it. Though, come to think of it, that's pretty much the rule for all alcohol that tastes like piss." He shrugged and began to pour the glorified grape juice into one of the large glasses, humming to himself as he did. When he heard Eric ask Ian about his foot though he perked up again.
"Foot? What's wrong with your foot?" He thought for a moment, connecting the tension in the room with the current discussion. "Did something happen in the basement that you two aren't telling me?"
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 25, 2012 22:13:11 GMT -6
Ian took another bite of bread and swallowed. "It should be fine... as long as I'm careful." He replied, leaving emphasis on the fact that he wasn't completely sure of his own condition. "It was nothing, really -- I was picking up a box in the basement and I, well... I dropped it." He answered Achille with a sheepish chuckle.
Without the rest of the details, it sure sounded a lot like simple clumsiness... which it might have been. But really, how else was one to explain what happened without sounding absolutely insane? 'Oh, you know, I was lifting up this box and all of a sudden it felt like lead and fell onto my foot. And then I plucked it off with ease! Weird, huh?' Yeah, right -- it didn't even sound like a good explanation to the Medic, and he had firsthand experience on the matter. Also, that elaboration didn't even include the other event that occurred down there...
Ian set his food down and began applying more force to his hurt foot. The sudden pressure made him wince a bit, but it was worth it. The frigid ice pack was doing its job to numb the pain a little, and on the plus side, the chill felt nice.
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Post by Eric on Nov 26, 2012 15:54:55 GMT -6
Having finished one piece of bread, she reached for another. It wasn't surprising that Ian was lying about the events in the basement. Hell, she would eagerly done the same. As someone who so strongly supported the idea that ghosts were bullshit, even if it was only spite her mother, it would sound bad if she starting raving about ghosts. Well, in her mind at least. With a mouthful of bread, she nodded to affirm Ian's story. "Mfou should haphe see-" she stopped to swallow, "er, I mean, been there. It was pretty funny. Takes some real skill to drop a box of christmas lights on your foot." Well, it probably hadn't been lights, but she was hoping the detail would sound more convincing. Although, she knew they had passed a box of colorful string lights. Perhaps on a less eventful night she could see about putting them up around the base.
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Post by Achille on Nov 27, 2012 11:43:45 GMT -6
Achille visibly relaxed a bit when Eric and Ian gave their explanations. "Oh well if that's all it is. You should be more careful with boxes Ian." Chuckling, he passed two of the glasses of wine to Ian and Eric, draining his own in one go. "Eck. French. Disgusting." Groping around until he found the other wine bottle, he uncorked it and poured it into his glass. "You mentioned Christmas lights didn't you Eric?" He asked as he tasted the new wine, disapproving of the taste only slightly. "How many lights do you think we have down there?"
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Nov 27, 2012 21:02:55 GMT -6
Ian shot Eric a half-scorn, half-thankful look as a not-wine glass was set in front of him. Of course extra details to a story were great to make it sound more convincing, but it didn't do much to save whatever scrap of dignity he'd retained that night. He shrugged it off with a light chuckle once Achille advised him to be more cautious.
"Yeah, I know..." He responded without thinking, taking a sip of wine and making a face that clearly expressed disapproval of it. He hadn't planned to drink much in the first place, and the bad taste it was leaving in his mouth only reinforced this notion. Setting the glass down, he masked the bitter taste of the drink with the rest of the bread he'd been eating before. When Achille asked about the lights, he choked a bit in surprise before quickly gulping it down.
"Uh... there was enough in that box to do some damage to my foot, that's for sure." He responded before Eric could, tone laced with uncertainty. After all, was something like that even possible? How many lights would a box even need to smash someone's foot like that? Ian didn't know; he hoped he wouldn't need to.
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Post by Eric on Nov 28, 2012 15:56:27 GMT -6
She opened her mouth to reply, but stopped when Ian answered first, instead taking the glass of wine set next to her, not minding the somewhat off putting taste of the drink as she tried it. It wasn't great, no, but as far as shitty drinks went, nothing would ever compare to Bonk. After Ian finished, she chimed in, "Yeah, there were a lot packed in that box. But I think there were two or three boxes of 'em down there. Enough to cover the front of the base and a tree. If we get one." Eric put emphasis on the last part, hoping he would get the hint. She would be more then happy to find and pay for a tree herself, but like hell she could transport it alone.
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Post by Achille on Nov 30, 2012 18:06:11 GMT -6
"I don't think there's any question of 'if' we're getting a tree for Christmas Eric." Achille said, smiling wistfully as the thought of smelling pine needles, cinnamon and gingerbread filled his head, "The real question is where we can get one." To be honest whether or not there was any location near the Sawmill compound that sold trees for Christmas was irrelevant to Achille. If need be he would gladly call up one of his previous co-workers and ask for a favor or two in order to have one delivered to the base even if it had to be airlifted.
Achille had been to numerous BLU bases in his career as a mercenary and the number of contacts and favors he had amassed would have made an intelligence agency jealous. It honestly wasn't very hard, at least not in Achille's mind. You smiled, laughed and acted friendly and people had a tendency to react in a positive way after all. Hell, he had even managed to make friends with a few REDs during his career, not that he made that fact known to his employers. It was well known what happened to anyone who was found flaunting cross company friendships and relationships. And it wasn't pretty.
As he dunked a piece of garlic bread in his wine, Achille continued to speak. The wheels inside his brain were turning in odd ways. "I think we should talk to the REDs about arranging a Christmas party or something."
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Ian
Truly Feared
Posts: 244
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Post by Ian on Dec 1, 2012 22:35:03 GMT -6
"There might be a place to buy trees in town." Ian chimed in when he got the chance while claiming another piece of bread for himself. Christmas was always a big event for his family back home, so the Medic couldn't help but be a little curious as to how differently things would be done up at Sawmill. He wouldn't really mind either way, but traditional holiday decorating and the like would do a good job to liven the place up a bit. A little Christmas spirit could never be a bad thing -- even on a battlefield, he figured.
When his teammate proposed his Christmas party idea, Ian gave him a futile skeptical glare. "Wait... what? Why?" He asked in surprise, taking another sip of wine. To him, the thought of arranging anything with the opposing team, let alone a party, sounded like a disaster just waiting to happen. A Christmas-ruining disaster no half-sane man would want to be a part of.
Achille wasn't serious... was he?
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Post by Eric on Dec 1, 2012 22:44:38 GMT -6
Eric shrugged, helping herself to another piece of bread. "Even if they agreed to have a party with us, I'm not sure I wanna spend my Christmas with a bunch of assholes and their well dressed asshole." Having Christmas parties with the opposite wasn't exactly something new for her, seeing as in the past her teams have gotten along better out of battle then this. Of course, that might not of been the case seeing as she never attended the parties, since usually she hated both teams. "Might be worth a shot though. Either way, I'm not buying any of them presents. Except maybe their spy. I think he's been hinting at wanting a foot up his ass."
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