ROBCO EVENT LOG V2.66
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Owner Pose
Lilu Lilu was resting, for once. Using the seat she has for the random patient, she slumps in it, back againt the shack, long legs set out before herself, crossing at the ankles. Her hands rest on the flat oc her stomach, fingers laced, and her cowboy hat sets at a slant over her face, giving her eyes some shade and protection from the sun. Her skin was already darker than before, tanned by her time out in its brazen burn. The field before her was tended well with the smallest sprouts to show for it. She was smiling.
Ashur "She knows farm work," the former Legionnaire rumbles, voice metallic through the filter of his helmet. "Which ought prove beneficial for our future-- at the least, having an idea should help me aid little Celeste while she heals." He reaches up and gives Kurokumo a small pat on her pretty lil head-- as tall as she is for a woman, he still has more than a full head on her, and she looks adorably tiny given his bulk.

The pair come upon Lilu at the side of her shack, and the man gazes with cold masked eyes across the tended fields and birthing sprouts. He rumbles appreciation, like thunder on the horizon, and clasps a fist to his chest with a punctuated smack. "Ave, medicus," he booms. "I have need of your wisdom."
Kurokumo Mibojin      It's true, Kurokumo is rather lanky with her tall frame, 5'10" being above average for most women. If she got it from her father, it's hard to say. "Yes, I used to tend to such fields as a child for fun. Getting rusty, I suppose." She's a little distracted, the Asian woman watching as the crops sway gently in the distance.
Lilu Lilu jumps at the sound, falling out of her chair in a spasm before standing and dusting herself off, the hat having fallen off her floofy hair. "M'wake, dad-ah, Ashur. N'Kurokumo. Evenin'." She clears her throat, trying to save a bit of face, even if said face is fleck with dust and sweat. Resting her hat, she straightens her back, sharing some height with Kumo, and just an inch more. "What c'n I help y'wit?"
Ashur Scuff a heel in the dirt, hook fingers under the helm, lift and shake free the tangle of bone-marked braids-- such is the process by which Ashur ends his greeting, serving the earth mother sight of his rough visage. He hooks the helmet to a little loop on his white-and-red thonged belt, where it hangs with idle clatter.

He blinks away the sudden sun exposure, nose wrinkling with urge to sneeze-- bite the lower lip, a flare of pain, it fades. "I've come with threefold inquiries," he declares, voice rich with that low, constant growl; the Legion doesn't indulge in such vices, but he's got a smoker's rasp, a darkdeadly bass like stones beneath the pestle. "My woman has been injured in battle-- broken ribs. She is mending, but until then, wholly unable to fulfill her duties on her ranch. Might you give me the short version of tending to such lands? Additionally, Kurokumo, here, is my primary healer-- that pain-relieving salve you used in the militia, do you know how to make it, and could you teach her?"

A roll of his shoulders. "Lastly, if you have any on hand, might I use it?"
Kurokumo Mibojin      Lost on almost forgotten memories, it takes Ashur's use of her name to bring Kurkumo back into the fold. Her eyes squinting in the light, she decides she really needs to get a hat for herself. "Yes, Celest got into a scuffle with Enclave while scavving. She'll need all the farm hands she can get!" She reaches out to pat a plated arm, her grin infectious as she teases the mighty Ashur.
Lilu Lilu quirks a brow. "T'reefold. 'lright." Then she listens to both the towering figure in plate, and his smaller companion. Setting her hands on her shapely hips, she glances to the field and back again. If there was anything odd about its set up, it might be that some of the stakes have little symbols carved into them. "Well, dat d'pends on what she got? Jus' fields? Livestock? Wat she growin'?" A look Kumo's way, she nods once more and steps back, going to the small shack and digging about in her bag. A small bottle in hand, she hands it out Kumo's way. "Best learnin' is t'do. Y'know 'nyt'ing 'bout plans, Miss Kurokumo?" Then, it hits her, and turning her head to the side, she eyes Ashur pointedly. "Why y'need it 'nyway? Y'hurtin' 'gain?"
Ashur Ashur's hips aren't quite as shapely as Lilu's, so his arms fold behind his back in a rigid military posture, the metal of the armor groaning as he shifts. "She tends horses," he answers, staring the dark woman down with eyes of bright gold. The color is vivid and suits the aesthetics of the armor-- if the hair weren't so savage, he might look like a storybook knight, albeit one with an absurd amount of muscle and beard. "At the Drake farms. I presume there are fields; I have not explored the property."

He breaks that overbearing eye contact long enough to glance down at Kumo as she takes the bottle, flashing her an easy-going smile after the arm pat. The berserker leans severe, but he's a softie with his girls. "I was part of the battle to save New Rome; I suffered great injuries there. I have healed well enough, but there's little time to rest. At times, the aches and cuts distract."

A mild way to describe getting blown up by a tank's main cannon, the tank's subsequent detonation, a handful of shotgun blasts and brutal heavy blows from power armor, and whatever other assaults he's endured.
Kurokumo Mibojin      Hefting the bottle in her hand, Kurokumo peers at it curiously. "I know about plants, yes." Good, she's not completely lost to Lilu's accent. Looking up she smiles, brown eyes twinkling with mischief. "He's always finding ways to getting hurt. Hope one of the horses doesn't kick him." She frowns, realizing that that might actually become a possibility... "You might just let me help handle the horses."
Lilu "Petite, all de pe'ple 'round here love gettin' int' trouble." Lilu murmurs with a hint of maternal disappointment. "I c'n help wit de horses if y'wan'. Keep y'off de fields so y'c'n heal, too. If y'wan', take a seat n'I'll give y'a look ova, too. If Miss Kurokumo don' mind." Rolling her shoulders and stretching her back, Lilu presses her hat back, allowing herself a bit more space and visibility. "Petite, what y'know 'bout plants? Don' wanna teach y't'ings y'lready know. Dat jus' be borin'."
Ashur Unlike a true suit of power armor, Ashur's salvaged bit lacks the powered frame and hydraulic movement systems of advanced models; rather, like a knight's mail, he's actually clad in tank-armor-thick plates of riveted steel. It is not meant to be worn like this; it is a heavy, beastly thing, without the servos and motors.

He wears it all the same. The removal of it is not a rapid process. He peels it off, bit by bit; the power fist, the other hand's gauntlet, open the vambraces, drop the helm. Every piece that hits the ground hits it with a loud, dull thud, such as to give a mighty impression of sheer weight.

Eventually, he's stripped out of it, and damn near as naked as the day he was born; inside that hulking coffin of steel, it is a furnace, if not running the cooling system, and his flesh glistens with rivers of sweat, pouring down the masses of scar tissue and old wounds across that brick wall of muscle and hair. His modesty is preserved by a belted loincloth-- and he does have a wifebeater on, it's just clinging to him like a marble-carven veiling of drapery.

"By all means," he welcomes.
Kurokumo Mibojin      Standing by as she cradles the newfound bottle of ointment, Kurokumo responds to the question. "I don't mind. I can't seem to always keep up with him most days..." Plates of metal being tossed onto the ground, the woman finds herself gaping as Ashur bares his skin to the open light. Closing her mouth, there's a little movement of her head and an indulgent smile as she shares with Lilu. "I haven't had a good lesson in...5 summers now."
Lilu Lilu doesn't gawk at the man once all is said and done, if anything, she tsks and shakes her head. "Y'need lighta arma, or don' stay in dat f'long. Y'burn out dat way." She warns, dragging over her bag after motioning for Ashur to take a seat. Washing him down with water and padding him dry, her eyes are attentive to his wounds. "S'lookin' good. Y'keepa 's doin' a fine job." She smiles, winking Kumo's way. "M'jus' gonna give de once ova." She explains, checking his present patch work and sniffing of the wounds, just making doubly sure they're not going off.

"Dat dere," She nods Kumo's way, "'s easy stuff. S'jus' mint, red peppa, clove buds n'laurel leaves. De Camphor kind. Grind'm all up n'let 'm sit in dey own juices. Y'wan' a lil mo' numbin', add more mint." She explains, working quickly on Ashur's frame. "'lright, y'done dere, big'n. Miss Kurokumo, y'wanna use dat stuff on 'm now?"
Ashur Neither Kurokumo's gawking or Lilu's apathy seems to arouse much of a response in the brute; he settles down with a rough exhale and permits the woman's wash-down with silent compliance. That titanic head leans forward as his spine arches, his eyes fall closed, and he submits to the process with a weariness he'd previously restrained. The water soothes, his breathing slows, that barrel chest and stomach rising and falling in sleepy rhythm. "Mm," he mutters, rolling his neck to the side and pressing his ear to his shoulder, making it crack. "Come, my Kumo. Let's see how it works."
Kurokumo Mibojin      Well, Kurokumo isn't one to argue much in this case. Her hand grasps the stopper, deceptively strong as she steps closer to the two. Her earlier look of appreciation becomes more sympathetic as Ashur looks simply exhausted. "Alright, let's see here..." Her expression becomes slightly closed, detached even, as fingers scoop a tiny bit of the ointment before applying it to still open wounds.
Lilu "Wait!" Lilu stares, wide-eyed with alarm as Kumo starts to brush on the gunk. "Shit, s'my fault. Dis f'jus' skin. Don' put it on dey wound itself. Jus' 'round it." She explains, quickly. "Or he gon' be in a world 'f pain. De stuff f'wounds? Dat's diff'rent."
Ashur The gunk burns at the cuts and open wounds; there's a sting of heat, needle-like fingers of flame pinprick dancing down goosebump nerves. It is undeniably a painful sensation.

Ashur smiles, opens his eyes, and reaches up to give Kurokumo's head a warm mussing, scratching at her scalp as he sees her eyes widen with sudden self-blaming concern. "Doesn't hurt at all," he tells her with a laugh, rolling both shoulders back and returning to his hunched position so that she can tend it. "Just a little warm-- like holding your palm over a candle. Continue, my Kumo; your hands feel nice."

He'll stay just like that as she works, never so much as clenching his jaw.