Participants:
Scene Title | Like A Wild Animal |
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Synopsis | After being rescued, Delia gets the fun of pulling a bullet out of Huruma's side, while her father and sister hold the woman down. |
Date | May 19, 2010 |
The ride from Battery Park had mostly been in silence, if the girls had questioned him, Benjamin Ryans wouldn't have said anything. Eyes cast down in thought, shaded by the brim of his fedora, his self imposed silence lasts all the way back to the Corinthian. A final farewell to Knox and they make their way up to the room where his girls were taken. His coat handed to Huruma to hold in front of her blooded coat, the first aid kit from the back given to Delia and the blood wiped from his own face.
Once inside room, Ryans moves towards the dresser, pulling his hat off his head slowly and he risks a sidelong glance to his girls, before looking at Huruma. "I have a phone call to make." He rumbles out softly, setting the fedora down, before turning to move towards the window, while fishing out his satellite phone recovered from the floorboard of the sedan.
Dialing, he can feel exhaustion setting in… the fading of the adrenaline and the aches are starting to return. Ryans lifts the phone to his ear, his free hand rubs at the dark purple bruise hidden under his clothing. "Hey Gael… it's Ryans. There's — been a situation…." His voice drones on, his back to the others as he starts to explain what in vague detail what happened. It's hard for him to ignore his girls at that moment, having come so close to loosing them, but the call is important.
She hasn't said a word, not one to her father, Delia or Huruma. Blonde hair still pulled back into a ponytail, she goes to the bathroom that is connected to the room. Bending over the sink, she splashes water on her face looks up in the mirror. Just staring for a moment, a moment free of the crazy world she's been thrust in. Ever since the bus accident and Melissa Pierce taking the little girl away from the scene.
Nothing has been the same since that day, nothing at all. Now Lucille is in adjust mode. Taking a towel from the hook to wipe her face off and tossing the towel into the sink, she grabs a few clean towels and walks back into the room. Handing them towards Delia and also grabbing a big bottle of brandy and passing it to Huruma. "On the rocks or straight?" she says to the tall woman.
Head titled to the side, she looks towards her father but doesn't say anything to him, she has other things on her mind. She doesn't want to fight, she doesn't want to fight in front of Delia.
Huruma's state has wavered between childishly repentant and bristly silence, and though she does not seem to be bleeding much as of yet, that was outside in the cold, and now they are inside with relative warmth. Walking has not been too hard; it is peeling the layers off that is beginning to drive her features into a gargoyle's grimace. The woman simply nods to Ryans as he lets her know what he's doing, moving away to put in the call to his people. Huruma is in the process of prying clotted up fabrics from the stain at her side when Lucille offers a drink amidst the awkwardness. She looks away from the hole in her side, hands bloodied there and lips pursed. The sharpness of her eyes has fallen slightly off center, and perhaps Lucille can recall that gauzy, predatory look- one she would get after a particularly rousing game of 'kicking someone's ass' in Lucy's. The tall woman shifts away from the older of the girls, dropping her last coat into the pile of others, leaving her torso with a dark cotton shirt, liquid sticky over most of it.
"…ice, Lucille." Huruma does answer eventually, wiping her palms over the top of her shirt.
So much like a mother hen, Delia's been hovering over Huruma nearly the entire trip and now into the hotel room. Of course, Lucille has to be the first person to hog the bathroom. Following her older sibling until the door gets shut in her face, then she begins hammering her bruised and frostbitten fists against the door. "Lu get out you're not the only one here!! I need stuff from in there!!"
There's a scowl on the redhead's face when Lucille emerges and her eyes narrow dangerously. There's a near silent mumble of 'I'm glad she's bleeding on your bed' as they breeze past each other.
The water runs for a while before Delia's voice can be heard out in the main area of the room. "Lu, can you go get more towels? I need like… ten…" She's asking nicely, or as nicely as she can since she's under stress. She's also rifling through the cabinets, both of their makeup bags, and other luggage before she re-enters.
When she does, it's with an armload of supplies. Most of it is damp towels, but there's also other odds and ends. "I need you to get me some saran wrap from the kitchen too."
"Don't worry." Ryans says softly, eyes on the white world beyond, eyes distant as he talks to the man on the other end of the phone. "I said I'll be there. I will be there, but I'm staying here tonight." His words taking on a slight edge, rough still from what happened. "Call me back later. Give me the details and I will meet everyone there." Eyes twitch slightly as if he wants to narrow them at whatever is said on the other end. "Right." The word said with a heavy sigh.
Ending the call, Ryans stands there for a long moment listening, eyes still outside, the phone in hand. Tapping it against the palm of his other hand, he just lets Delia do her thing… "Before you try to dig the bullet out, let me know." He turns slowly to look at the tall dark woman on the bed. "I'll help restrain her."
His face is unreadable as he studies Huruma. His girls don't know, but she herself knows what danger she is. She is after all a wild animal in her own rights.
On the rocks it is, with a quick nod. She goes over to where the glasses and ice are. Twirling the bottle of brandy around she pours two glasses, one for herself and for one Huruma, the ice floats to the top of the glass as she walks back over to hand it over to Huruma. "Painkiller." She says softly with a small bit of a smile.
And then Delia is spazzing and she shakes her head. "One day.. all your hair is going to fall out and nobody will love you." She says in a stoic tone and then she's smiling brightly at everyone in the room, going to grab all the towels that are in there and then she's walking out. She's in a weird mood yes.
Having peeled herself free, Huruma's perch on the bed came at a hiss of breath and a further study by pulling up her shirt to study the wound closely. It wasn't as clean through as she had thought- he's right, the bullet is still in there. It's a small round, but nonetheless sitting idle in her flesh. The hole against the ebony skin around her waist seems frightening on its own, a red stain and that dark wound in the middle of it. Her eyes jerk up faintly as Lucille passes her the drink, taking a sharp and rather abrupt slosh of it into her mouth before pulling the cotton shirt up over her head.
Huruma's dark red lace uncannily matches the shade coming out of her, incidentally. Her face meets Ryans when he speaks up again, eyelids dropping and chin tilting upwards, sitting position supported by one arm propped behind her, heel of her palm on the bed. She knows that he will have to- that is a given. Lest she squeeze Delia's head right off while the girl is digging around in there. Even if Huruma knows that Delia knows what she's doing, that does not change the fact that Huruma is literally a wounded animal.
Balancing all of her supplies in one arm, Delia uses the other to sweep everthing off the bedside table, knocking it down to the floor with a clatter. She doesn't seem to care if the expensive lamp is broken, or the telephone, or even the alarm clock. It's a good thing that Lucille keeps her side of the room really neat. Delia's night table is littered with snack wrappers, wadded up tissues, and things dug out of her pockets after she's finished a shift at the hospital…
Before placing anything down, she picks one of the towels from her hand and spreads it across the wood. Then she carefully arranges everything in two lines, making sure all of it is within easy reach. "Daddy, I need you to wiped everything off with the alcohol swabs. Uhm… check my nightstand, there should be a couple of handfulls there."
For her part, she picks up one of the damp towels and begins gingerly cleaning away the wound to take a better look. From the other side, she can feel the pellet near her right flank. "Uhm… and get me a tampon."
"Lucille!" Is barked at the young woman by her Father, anger plain in Ryans' eyes as he stares at her in disbelief, before she heads out the door. He makes a soft frustrated sound in the back of his throat before he turns back to Delia and Huruma, expression unreadable again.
Seeing the wound his lips pressed tight, Ryans moves over to his youngest. "You need to understand what you are about to do." Hand on her shoulder to make her stop and look at him. He gives her a serious look and not caring a lick that Huruma is sitting right there, he explains, "What you are about to do.. is dig a bullet out of a woman who will easily kill you." A glance goes to dark skinned woman for back up on this.
"I don't want you even poking at that wound until your sister and I have Huruma pinned down." He searches the face of his red headed child. "You know what she can do." His hand drops away, "Do you understand me?"
The door opens and there is Lucille again with what Delia has requested. Her arms drops it on the bed next to Huruma and she stares at the bullet wound. Then she's redoing her ponytail and tilting her head.
Arms crossed as she kicks her boots off and then comes to put a knee on the bed near Huruma. She's walked in just as Ryans is finishing what he's saying. "You ready my mighty Lioness?" her eyes twinkle in the light as she looks over to her dad and then she's looking towards Delia. "You can do it, sis." She wants to be supportive, she's not gonna move to restrain Huruma until daddy gives the signal.
While her father is speaking to her as if Huruma is not sitting there, she is watching Delia with a mixture of wariness and impatience. The sooner this is over- well. Huruma tilts her head to Lucille next, lips pulling into a strained little smile before looking back to Benjamin and his younger daughter. Lucille is pretty good on vibes. Huruma is otherwise hoping that she and her father are enough to allow Delia time to fish her way in.
Huruma waits, a spot of red already staining the blankets at her thigh.
Looking up at her father, Delia just nods before quickly turning back to the bullet wound. "I know what she can do… I kind of saw it. Kind of…" Then she looks up at Huruma and gives her a crooked smile, there's a little uncertainty in her, but moreso there's foolhardy bravery and a fondness for the older woman. "I don't think she'll do it though, she protected me."
Then the redhead goes serious and looks around. "Lu, check the pockets of the scrubs I was wearing the other day. There should be some rubber gloves in there that are clean. Uhm… right side pocket. Not the other one. Please." She takes an alcohol swab and begins to clean around the wound, not actually touching the insides with the swab. "I need the kit from my backpack too. There's a scalpel in there and some suture needles… and a lighter."
"You'll learn." Ryans says in a bland tone, blue eyes cutting over to Hurmura. "You know I'm right." He says to her, softly.
Moving away, he finally strips off his jackets, leaving him in his shirt and shoulder harness. Of course, the shoulder harness comes off as well, set across the jackets. Rolling up his sleeves he moves to do everything Delia asks, this wasn't going to be fun for the older man. Not by a long shot.
It's several minutes later that Huruma is eased back on the bed, her legs bend over the end of it. The senior agent glances at his oldest and points to Huruma's legs. "Lucille, you don't let go for anything, keep your arms wrapped around those legs and your weight on them. Do not let her loose."
Eyes then move to Delia. "You get in there and dig the bullet out, do not stop for anything. We'll only have one chance at this." That said he sits on the bed next to Huruma. Strong hands grab her wrists, she can feel the strength in that grip, moving them with him, he shifts to where he's sitting with his back to the girls. Leanings sideways his side settles against Huruma's chest half laying on it" totally ignoring what she's wearing.
His hands pin her wrists to the bed above her head, the only place he can look at at Huruma herself. "Don't enjoy yourself too much." He says blandly, his emotions don't betray any enjoyment of what their doing, just… resigned and slightly fearing for his youngest. He finally speaks up… "Do it, Delia." As he says that, the woman under him can feel his vice-like grip tighten, getting ready.
Without another word, Lucille gets up from the bed and grabs the supplies her movements fluid and fast. Not panicked and hurried. She's calm, eerily calm. As she brings the supplies to Delia, she nods her head at Ryans and then she's taking hold of Huruma's legs. The older woman would discover that Lucille has a much stronger grip then you would think.
"Not letting anything happen to you honey." She breathes out and makes eye contact with Huruma. She wants the woman to focus on her, just stare her start in the eyes. Grey eyes meeting hers.
The muscles of Huruma's abdomen contract visibly when something stinging is involved; the cleaning up was fine, in all respects, alcohol- that does sting. Not quite as much as being pinned down like a big black butterfly about to technically be skewered. It's all very clinical on the inside, even if the visual is awkward.
Provided that Lucille has a grip around her knees, all she will need to worry about is getting jostled off by her thighs. Lu makes fun of Delia for it- legs are a girl's best friend. Huruma's jaw grits towards Ryans, eyes smoldering between irritation and vaguely- interest. Hard to not notice him there, or his palms against sinewy, already wriggling wrists. Her father can feel Huruma's powerful lungs expanding in her ribcage- the sensation that she very much ready to whipcrack has not changed since the last time he was this- close- to her. The woman's lips part in a half-smile, teeth showing briefly and a loud hiss answering Lucille, ivory eyes on the agent's blue.
"I've'ad worse days."
She probably doesn't have much time, with a quick glance to her father lying across one of the scariest yet nicest women she's ever met. Then another is shot to her sister, who is at the moment hugging the same woman's legs in an effort to keep her down. "This is where Lu's valium could come in ultra handy…" Not that she knows exactly what her sister is on, or even if she's been able to get her prescriptions refilled. So many pharmacies have been shut down by the storms that even children's asprin is selling for $20 a pill on the streets.
After sterilizing the blade with her lighter, Delia waves it in the air to cool it off. No need to burn the Amazon while slicing her up. Then she has an idea. "Hang on, just… hang…" It takes her only a second to place the knife on the bedside table and race over to Lu's suitcase. She whips it open and pulls out one of the model's beautiful leather belts and folds it in half. "Here Huruma, bite down on this." She offers it to the woman and should she take it, she repositions herself over the wound as she pulls a new pair of gloves on.
Picking up the knife again, she pauses over the wound and then takes a few quick breaths to psych herself up. "Okay… On three." She pauses. "One.." and the knife slices through the woman's skin like she was made of soft butter. Once the wound has been widened, she reaches over and grabs a pair of little foreceps from her kit. They dip into the wound and she begins to dig through the meat and blood to find the bullet.
"Mmm… " Ryans offers with a grunt. "You and me both." Before he falls into silence when his daughter gets started, hands like stone around her wrist, body tensing getting ready for the fight. He doesn't flinch away from her gaze, jaw clenching.
When Delia's hand comes into view, to put that belt in Huruma's mouth, the dark woman gets an amused look. "They'll learn." He offers almost apologetically. Old rivals, he spent time studying what they knew about her when he was trailing her all those years ago.
Then the rodeo begins…
"I believe it." Lucille replies softly to Huruma and she briefly looks up at Ryans before staring down at Huruma's knees as she holds on to the ladies' legs. "Really smooth, you use Nair?" she asks with a tilt of her head. "Ah, missed a spot. We'll get that later." The blonde says and then her sister gets to work.
It seems to take an eternity with someone so young and as indecisive as Delia- Here, there, belt in teeth. Huruma glowers up at Ben while listening to both him and Lucille. How does he do it? Her white teeth settle into a vice on the belt.
Rodeo is an understatement. The cut gets a twinge of Huruma's spine- a jostle of preemptive movement. The foreceps digging in, however, elicits a throaty snarl from Huruma, and for what it is worth, Ben does a fantastic job of pinning her arms down, Lucille may have a bit of a ride trying to hold on around her knees. Her elbows arch up off of the bed, the muscles in her shoulders pull against the rest of her torso, and for the agent is is practically like going back in time. High cheekbones pull long as her jaw grinds and opens in a new noise, the belt falling from her teeth.
Huruma bucks once around the diving instrument, full frame roaring up against Ben. The woman's mouth opens, neck pushing forward in an effort to plunge her teeth into the front of Ryans' chest. In his head, something rattles, high pitched and sudden, a wash of fright, boiled through with- oddly enough- determination. Huruma may not be safe- but she is smart. The kneejerk reaction of trying to scare him off comes with a same effort to make sure that he stays to fight with her about it.
The redhead isn't about stopping, pausing, or even slowing down. At the first twinge of pain there's a little bit of hesitation but when the bucking begins, she leans heavily against Huruma's thighs and tries to work while keeping her down. "Hold her still, I can feel it but she's moving too much to get a grip!" It's a warning to Lucille more than anyone else.
There's another buck and the bullet slips from the grip of the small scissorlike instrument. There's sweat beginning to bead on Delia's forehead, she's definitely nervous. Huruma is the first operation she's ever performed on something that wasn't stuffed and labeled with Lulu's name on the bottom right foot.
The metal grazes against the small sphere again and she opens and snags it. She pulls it out triumphantly and lays it on the nightstand before grabbing the tampon and unwrapping it. The cotton is stuffed into the wound, for now, just to soak up some of the extra blood. "Saran wrap…" she mutters to herself and grabs it to tear off a square, press it against the wound, and tape it off. "Okay… okay… we need valium."
As teeth sink into skin through the fabric of his dress shirt, lips pull back from teeth in a grimace. The Company Agent endures the pain, teeth gritted, preferring this happening to him, rather then his girls. The play of emotions that are forced on him, has the older man, giving a growling hiss of pain. Pale fingers dig into pale flesh with a bruising force, his body shifting to put more weight on those arms.
Ryans grunts out a pained, "Delia… hurry up." His eyes dropping to the top of Huruma's head where she's latched on, as he lets out a huff, "Or your going to have to stitch me up, too." Hazarding a glance over his shoulder, he doesn't notice that his grip loosens some on one of those twisting wrists.
It feels just like the first time. That is, Huruma's teeth making a valiant effort to bite a chunk right out of him. The sinuous muscles of her shoulders and upper back twist her up against the agent, python form stopped from writhing too much when he does press further for everyone's sake. It allows Delia access again, if at the sacrifice of her father's shirt and chest. It is still enough to stop Huruma up and ready her stitching equipment.
Until Ben looks back to check on her, that is.
The singular moment that there is the chance of an opening, Huruma takes it. Her arm powers through the grip that has loosened around her wrist, slamming nails into the side of Ben's face. Her teeth sink harder, sharp fingers drawing roughly down the length of his cheek and down over the top of his neck. A rumble emits from Huruma as she tries to push at him, all claws and teeth and that wave of influence boring into his head.
Ryans head jerks to the side as his face erupts into sharp burning pain, a breath hissing through clenched teeth. "Dammit!" He snaps out, his hand fumbling to get that grip again, however, that isn't working as she continues to avoid his attempts.
Growling, Ryans rears back his hand moving to slide fingers around her neck, she can feel that iron grip tightening cutting off air. Delia can see her father's shoulder tense, before he jerks the dark woman's teeth from his skin, fabric of his shirt tearing, the threads already soaking up blood from the tooth marks.
Once her head is shoved down on the bed, he only has moment to act. Huruma only gets a moment of freedom as Ryans' other hand lets go. Next thing she knows and the next thing Delia sees is her father's arm cock back and him punching Huruma. The tall man, inwardly cringes at the sound of flesh hitting bone and the blossom of pain across his knuckles. Ryans doesn't ever feel comfortable hitting a woman… but with Huruma he has to problem making an exception.
Delia's eyes are like saucers as she witnesses the brutality between the 'paper salesman' and his 'customer'. She is never going to fall for that one again. The cotton swab gets soaked fairly quickly and it has Delia just a ltitle worried. "Dad… you might have to keep punching her if she struggles. I'm not going to take responsibility if she tears herself up."
From a sterile wrap, she pulls a fresh suture kit and then quickly tears the saran wrap off and pulls the tampon out. The extra blood has been sopped up but there is a bit of leakage. "I… oh…" She glances down at the needle she just pulled up and frowns. It goes on the table and Delia rummages around in her kit for something different. It takes her a minute or so but she finally finds what she's looking for, a disolvable suture kit. "Keep her still, I'm going back in…" She's not looking forward to what's going to happen next. It's going to hurt.
Not that Huruma will notice too much.
There's something to be said here, about picking on someone your own size. She forgot how hard he punched. Square in the face, at this distance? Huruma sinks back, tense against the bed and chin rolling upwards, features bending into a disoriented expression. Delia can do what she has to do now, courtesy of a mean hook. Huruma's traded a bullet for a bloody nose and a swimming image of Benjamin overhead. The woman forms a couple of unintelligible words before there is an unmistakable grunt of resignation on her end, the hand that had so readily clamped down onto his face lying palm-flat on the uninjured side of his chest with an unsteady pat. That'll do, Benny.
That was possibly a very therapeutic experience. She deserved it.
"Just get it done." Ryans growls out as slender wrists are recaptured and pressed over the dark woman's head again. His head droops a little and he can feel something slide down the side of his face to gather at his scruffy chin. Turning his head, he wipes his chin on his shirt, it's already ruined, leaving a small smear of blood there.
"The more you stay still, the sooner this is done and I can let you up." At this point, Ryans is only working to distract her, his voice rumbles deeply, his breath heavy from the exertion of fighting her. Eyes narrow slightly at her, but still Ryans is stoney and his emotions are nothing more then him being determined to keep her down… He's certainly not enjoying it.
The needle works its magic on the inside, Lu's firm grip on the woman's legs is holding. Delia shoots her a quick smile, though the worry is firmly etched on the redhead's features. For all her griping, she's certainly happy that her older sister is there with her. "Almost done on the inside…" A few more stitches to the meat on the inside, and she ties off the thread and reaches for her shears to clip it off.
The first needle is taken back up from the nightstand and Delis pinches the skin neatly together. Carefully, she stitches the bullet hole closed. It only takes a few stitches on the outside, it's the ones on the inside that are worrying the young woman. She's afraid. Very afraid. Afraid that perhaps she did everything wrong.
"Okay.. okay.. I'm done.." she whispers as she snips off the last thread. Then she looks up to the back of her father's head and raises her voice to ask meekly, "Daddy… can I have a drink of that brandy Lu was pouring?"
Huruma's brows meet in the middle and stare back at Ben while the little bites of the needle roam in and out. For a few seconds she does squeeze both eyelids closed, pink tongue roaming out over her lips and teeth to clean the superficial blood from them. Both his and hers, from the punch to her nose. When the dark woman opens her eyes up again she seems slightly more aware, slightly more able to focus on him.
"Gggghhssss." Huruma pulls her lips closed when Delia says the magic words, the jostling movements from before simply waning to a faint nudge into Ben. Her forehead finds his shoulder a second later, somewhere between a second signal to get off please and something vaguely like a cat being nice after getting broom'd.
Luc holds on for dear life and does a pretty good job and then she's looking over at her father and nodding at Delia. "I don't believe I have anymore Valium but I'll go and find some." With that the oldest Ryans girl gets up and tugs on her boots before with one final look behind her shoulder she smiles lightly. "You were great."
Is she saying that to her sister? Or the others? Guess they'll have to wait to find out as Lucille exits the room and closes the door with a soft click.
"No." Ryans says firmly to his youngest, finally letting go of those wrists, his hands jerking away as if burned. He's quick to slide off the bed, leaving Huruma to her own devices at this point, Ryans doesn't even look at her lain out there in red lace.
He glances over at the Delia, "You did good…" He says softly, blood oozing from the damage the Huruma's done. A hand lifts to touch some of them, grimacing, but he glances the shine of red on his fingers and without any real concern.
"With hope, that won't scar, Huruma." With that he turns his back on both and strides right for the bathroom to take care of the blood.
"But.." Delia starts to protest as she's shut down so quickly. The firm tone cowers her though and she simply pulls the rubber gloves off her hands and bundles them up along with the rest of the trash for disposal. There's a massive amount of blood, they're going to have a hard time explaining it to the staff.
Looking up at her father, she points to the spot on his shirt and her lips twist into a semi-grimace. "Lemme take a look at that too, you don't want to get infected. The human mouth is one of the dirtiest things out there… No offense Huruma."
Huruma, once free, finds herself slipping to her knees and palms, turning herself over onto her good side before making an effort to push herself up. The rivulets of red now on her face are not serious, they only show off the fact she got whalloped like a shark that went after the wrong diver. Her pale eyes cast readily after Ben's retreat, nails digging into the bedspread and one leg gingerly looking for the floor off the side of the bed. "It won't scar-"
"Ohh, now now, He lived through th'first one, Delia…" Huruma answers both of them in kind, a laugh coming heavy out of her mouth for the latter response. "He's'ad worse days too."
"No." Is repeated firmly by the old man, his back straight, Ryans slips into the bathroom and the door clicks shut behind him, door locking. A declaration that he's done talking about it.