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Ashur "Dragonflies? They've a pleasant crunch, and are sweet enough-- I once knew a boy who would fry them and pop them in his mouth like candy."

The behemoth's bass rumble breaks the gentle silence that overtakes the shantytown clinic this afternoon; it has seen a smaller flood of people than usual, the various sicknesses and injuries that plague the poor of El Dorado choosing to abate today. He stands amidst shafts of pale gold light that filter in through musky windows and grant a vivid sparkle to the motes of dust that float without direction around him. Contrasted with the darker wall of the clinic interior, and his own bright white toga-- which, due to its design, exposes much of his bare upper body, the swell of muscle, the line of scar and pelvis-- he seems to stand out vividly, one arm folded behind his back and the other.. well, the other is currently wrapped around the waist of a woman, who is lifted off the ground and reaching her hands over her door to tighten a sign marking it as her office that had gotten loose. Her feet dangle helplessly a dozen inches above the floor.

Against that office door and adjacent walls, the pale sunlight plays games of chiaroscuro, catching in the toga's folds at some parts and brightening others until his shadow swells like some great beast to consume hers.
Kurokumo Mibojin      "They must have been smaller where he lived. These things were bigger than dogs!" Kurokumo is rather thin, her 5'10" frame easily being hefted by the giant holding her up. Her fingers fiddle with the sign, twisted a bolt until it stays sturdy enough. "Alright, down we go."
Kasumi     It doesn't take long before the pair might notice a woman whose stumbling around a little bit like she's drunk. THe woman is clearly asian, and if Ashur might remember from a few nights ago, somebody who was fairly decent to know in a fight. The woman starts to make her way towards the clinic before falling over. Her arm is in pretty bad shape, several slashes on her arm, as a pool of blood seems to start to form around her body...
Ashur "Good girl," the man rumbles once Kumo adjusts the sign, reaching in to trail kisses along the hollow of her throat; he nuzzles against her with an affection and intimate gentleness quite at odds with the berserker furies or Legion stiffness most associate him with. The thick hairs of his beard scratch at her ticklishly before he bends at knee and hip to lower her. As she slips away from him, her shadow on the wall comes back to life, pouring out of his.

The brute turns, and sees the woman lightheaded from bloodloss. He is no healer, but a warrior by career, and recognizes those signs-- he walks, thunder in his footsteps, until he looms over her. "Prepare a table," he commands Kumo, and takes to a knee, sliding those powerful arms under the smaller Asian woman's body-- holding her head in the crook of his right elbow, the left arm hooked behind both her knees, lifting her up like a knight in shining armor carrying off a princess from an old story book. Or a wedding night groom crossing the threshold, given he carries her to one of the examination rooms-- but far less romantic, given he needs to swing her to face another way so he can shuffle sideways through the door, which is not nearly wide enough to permit his mass otherwise.

The joys of being a beastly bull of a man: nothing is big enough.
Kurokumo Mibojin      The moment of private affection is lost, and Kurokumo realizes the urgency in which to treat her newest patient. She doesn't get many quiet days in between visits, it seems. The Doctor rushes through to collect a metal tray of supplies from the back closet, before following Ashur into the Examination Room. "We need to get the bloodied cloth off, so I can see what I'm doing." From the tray comes a pair of clothing sheers, Kurokumo eyeballing where she needs to cut.
Kasumi     Its not hard to find. THere's about 4 or 5 slashes on the fatigues on Kasumi's arm. Its kinda hard to figure out how many there really are, but it looks pretty nasty. Ashur might want to try to grab the guns away. Lightheadness + Long walks through the Wasteland + passing out = Very bad things happening when waking up. There's a P90c and then there's still the service rifle that fell on the ground outside. There's a little bit of a rope burn around the wrists, and neck of the woman.
Ashur Stretching out once through the door, Ashur shoves his way forward and eases the injured woman down upon the medical table. The blood dripping from her arm has made a small red stain in the white of his toga, spreading through the thick thick woolen cloth to darken it ominously. "Gaze upon her throat," the man murmurs, his eyes naturally drawn to that part of a woman anyway, "and see, my Kumo-- the mark of a rope. Was it a hanging, or was she tied up like chattel?"

Whether it's execution or slavery, the Legionnaire has seen and participated in both; he knows choke marks when he sees 'em. As Kurokumo comes with the scissors, he snorts bullishly, and spares her the effort-- he hooks his fingers into the shredded holes of the fatigue sleeves and rips with brute strength. The fabric thins and tears with a pleasing sound to expose the myriad cuts on her arm.. and as her wounded flesh is exposed, and eyes of honey gold slowly trail down her, the wrist marks are seen too.

Unfortunately, bound wrists don't tell him if she was being stolen or hung. You'd lash them together in both cases!

"Be vigilant," he tells his woman, reaching over to take away Kasumi's P90 and then gather her rifle afterwards, ducking back out of the room. "She may be criminal."
Kurokumo Mibojin      Despite the severity of the situation, Kurokumo still gives an unimpressed look as he shreds the cloth. It's no use telling him that riping fabric that might be attached to her clotting wounds might re-open them again. "Alright." The Doctor peers at the slash marks on her patient's arm, putting aside the clothing sheers and instead the freshly sterilized bandaging cloth to gently dab the blood away until the edges are found.
Kasumi     Kasumi is in no position to really complain about her fatigues now, but later. The woman just lays there for now. As Kumo starts dabbing the wound, she'll see that several of the cuts are deeper on the back of the arm, rather then the front. Another issue, her clothing has more blood on it, then one person could leak before passing out. And if she just passed out...The woman groans a little bit, weakly starting to move....
Ashur Ashur returns after gathering the rifle, depositing both of the woman's guns in Kumo's office and closing the door behind him. Despite the situation's urgency, and his own decisiveness in helping, he seems.. rather calm; perhaps he just lacks empathy for the woman's plight. Nevertheless, with a floor-quaking rumble, the giant treads forward, slowing at the table's side so both the girls are in his line of sight. "Still, girl," he rumbles, placing a hand on her chest and pinning her to the table as she groans and stirs. "Until she says you may move."
Kurokumo Mibojin      Kurokumo raises a brow at Ashur's physical demonstration, but says nothing as she continues to work. It's probably for the best considering what is coming up next. "You have some deep gashes on your arm. I have to get them sown up before finishing up." Hopefully, the woman on the table will not put up much of a fuss as she brings the surgical sewing needle and twine to bear.
Kasumi     Kasumi has a few words that are clearly not english, and not for polite company in Japan. She starts to twist a little bit. A few times, she's starts to use Ashur's own bigness and strength against him. Hopefully the man will overcompensate, or try to bring more strength down on her...Clearly somebody trained.
Ashur "I said be still, girl," the former Legionnaire reminds her, voice taking on a growling, rasping tone-- one Kurokumo will recognize well: he's internally debating the merits of clonking the fiery little Asian unconscious.

But no. No, Kumo would chastise him, and she's already wounded; there's no need to add more to it. The hand slides presumptuously and without shame over a breast and comes to where arm and shoulder meet, while his other hand goes directly to the opposite shoulder in mirror hold. "If we wanted to hurt you, you would be hurt; obey, and let the medicus tend you."

His touch leans more toward brute strength than trained precision, per se, but there are few in the wastelands more proficient with their hands-- admittedly, Ashur's usually killing with them, but they're good enough at other tasks.
Kurokumo Mibojin      It's been years since she's heard her ancestoral tongue. Kurokumo can't quite remember the little bits that her Mother taught her, and so she's stuck with what she has. What everyone else has. "Please be still, so I can stitch up your arm. Ashur's patience won't last forever." Sewing needle and tray put aside, the Doctor collects another bandage to cover the gash and squeeze the slightest bit to keep it together...and remind the patient of the precarious situation she is in with pain.
Kasumi     Kasumi starts to swing her legs up, and then her hips start to come up before a sharp hiss comes from her mouth. Her legs fall back to the table as the woman cringes. She growls a little bit, trying to find something, anything to throw. After a few more seconds, the woman settles down, but there's death hiding in those eyes...
Ashur Ashur recognizes the harsh glare in Kasumi's eyes. His hands slip free of her shoulders when she settles-- if she's going to be still, there's no need for his hands on her, fun as it is to manhandle her. But the way she kicks and struggles near Kumo, and that gaze that shoots daggers..

The man leans in. He isn't close enough to headbutt, though if she wanted to try her luck grabbing, she could-- but he's close enough for the warmth of his breath to wash across her, for the braids of his hair to pool and spill upon the bed and frame her face. And he affixes her with a strict, domineering look in return, mouth set in a hard neutral line. "Don't."

Just one word, and then he straightens back up.

"How is it, my Kumo?"
Kurokumo Mibojin      Kurokumo's grip softens on the arm, since her patient has decided to cooperate. For now. "She's not as bad off as I had feared. Some of the blood on her clothes isn't hers." Fingers going back into the tray, the Doctor brings the sewing needle to bear. "This will hurt a little, but I need for you to stay still or it will make the wound worse." It doesn't matter whether or not her patient understands. All she can do is trying to prevent her from dying, as the cleaned needle sinks into the edge of her torn flesh.
Ashur "Her wounds struck me as curious," the bull remarks, quiet-- which for him means his voice still projects through the examination room with an almost wild majesty. "Rope at her wrists and throat, cuts on her arms-- if the blood is not hers, she must have been tied up by another, and then killed them and escaped."

Ashur vaguely recalls the spitfire's presence in a battle a short spell ago, and her handiness when it comes to thriving in such scraps. He nods. "The raiders are more clumsy with their slave-taking now; they should have crippled her legs first."

The Legion likes to do that.
Kurokumo Mibojin      "Good thing they botched that." Kurokumo's words are quieter, bitterness clear as she is reminded of the pratices of slave-traders. Back and forth, the needle pulls through, stitching through as she was taught at a young age. It doesn't take long before the wound is sewn shut and the line tied off, a snip freeing it from the spool. Bandages are applied carefully, before being tied into place.
Kaydin     "Hey." Kaydin says as he makes his way to the room and looks to Kasumi. "I came when I heard it was Kasumi." Kaydin says as he looks to the large man and nods at him before looking at the healer who is working. "Is there anything I can do?" He says, radio making his voice sound a little mechanical.
Kasumi     "They did not botch, cause they didn't take me. Men in robes. THey knocked me out, and when I came to, I was dragged on the ground.", she growls a bit. The woman glares at Ashur a bit. Men, in robes. Ashur, robe/Toga, still counts. The woman looks over at Kaydin, and blinks a few times. Somebody must of said something about a drunken Kasumi stumbling about...
Ashur A toga is distinctly not a robe! Ashur is no hooded cultist-- he is a regal beast, savage in aspect but dignified in dress. Anyone who thinks otherwise has no appreciation for anachronistic Roman fashion.

As if realizing Kasumi's thoughts, the man snorts again, nostrils flared like a stubborn bull. "You did well to slaughter them," he compliments, folding those massive arms across an astoundingly thick chest. "But how crude; dragged by rope to crush your slender throat? No one would pay for a dead slave, however pretty."

It isn't the cruelty that bothers him, nor the notion of enslaving women for nefarious purposes.. he's peeved by the clumsiness of it all.

Criminals just have no discipline at all, damnit!

The brute looks to the side, staring at Kaydin as he comes in. "If you were following your woman, you should have been here before she collapsed," he criticizes. "How long has she been stumbling around like a saloon girl?"
Kurokumo Mibojin      Rolling her eyes, Kurokumo excuses herself from the broiling conversation. Figures those two would come to venomous words when life is no longer on the line. "Please, do not lift anything heavy while it heals. Here." The Doctor brings forth a home-made sling, since Kasumi won't be able to hold her arm still without assistance. "I am Kurokumo, and this is Ashur, my husband." Seems fitting since Kaydin gave away her name.
Kasumi     Kasumi growls a little bit. "I am not Kaydin's woman. I am Kasumi's woman. Did the bombs set back men's intelligence back even more?", she asks. The woman mutters a little bit as she gets up. "Thank you.", she says to Kumo. She looks at Kaydin a moment. "I went out exploring, and found something I shouldn't have found.", she says.
Kaydin     "Yea dont have a woman. " Kaydin says as he looks to Ashur and his toga. "Only folks I seen dressed like that is the legion. Right damn assholes." Kaydin says as he watches the goings on.
Ashur Ashur lords over Kasumi as she sits up; he has well over a foot on her, and likely weighs as much as two or three of her put together. The disparity is severe-- and so too is his expression as she speaks and mumbles. "It was foolish men of the past who provoked the wrath of Mars; Earth was cleansed in holocaust, and those who remained were the strongest and the brightest. Take advantage of this, girl, and watch where you go on your own from now on. Keep a companion with you."

A cut of his eyes to the side at Kaydin. "The Legion was a noble beast, before Caesar fell; disciplined and powerful. This is the attire of New Rome, forged from remnants that have abandoned the Legate. Mind your tongue, Profligate."
Kurokumo Mibojin      Yep, nothing ruins the weekend like an ongoing war of ideals. Kurokumo shakes her head, knowing that arguing with Ashur doesn't end anywhere good. "What did you find?" She asks Kasumi, as the soiled bundle of bandages are being deposited into the boiling pot in the corner of the room. Kurokumo takes the wooden stiring spoon to push and mash the cloth into releasing it's contaminants.
Kaydin     Kaydin just nods to Kasumi and watches her. "If you are alright then I can make you something to eat in the saloon." Kaydin says. When Asher opens his mouth and speaks minding his tongue. "Since you asked nicely, I will mind my tongue. Last thing we need is to recreate the battle of hoover dam." He says as he watches Kurokumo.
Kasumi     "The Cultists.", Kasumi says. "Shouldn't have found them. I was looking for scrap. I have asked Harlan to create a katana for me, if I can find some scrap. I have found an area that doesn't look like many have touched, so I was hunting for bits of metal out there.", she tells. The woman sighs a bit. "I take it that those two shall be speaking like that for awhile? Can you make tea?", she asks.
Ashur Ashur snorts at the mention of Hoover Dam; this is one bull who believes he could crush a bear. He pivots on a heel and raises his right arm over his head; it stretches the heavy cloth of his toga and exposes the stain of Kasumi's blood soaking through it. "This needs be laundered," he mutters, tracing his fingers along a spot where the blood ground against his skin, making sticky the dark curls of hair that spread along his hirsute torso. "As do the sheets." He gathers them up and pivots on a heel, striding toward the door. "I will return in a moment, my Kumo."

He'll swing over toward Kurokumo's office, undo the knot that holds up his toga, strip bare-ass in her room, and dump it all in a bin to be washed later. It'll be a little bit before he returns in a clean tunic.
Kurokumo Mibojin      Kurokumo blinks her surprise, watching as Ashur gathers the linens and makes his departure. The tension is enough to cut the air with a knife. "Yes, I can make us some tea." She gives Kasumi a small smile, then looks around to remember where she might have put her kettle. Rummaging around, it isn't long before a canteen of water and the kettle are found, loose leaves dumped into the container before being placed upon the coals. "You said you were looking for a Katana? Would you be interested in a Wakizashi?"
Kasumi     "Hai, any Japanese blade would be welcomed. I have been to the Lone Star Caravan, but the blade was too expensive for me to purchase. I am currently working something of a strongarm position at the Saloon, and seeking other lines of work as well.", Kasumi says. "Do you have a wakizashi?", she asks.
Kaydin     "What is a whackisashey?" Kaydin asks as he watches the man leave. "Charming fellow. Other then being part of the legion, he is alright." Kaydin says as he looks to Kasumi and looks her over. "Maybe you shouldnt go out alone anymore."