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Post by Deleted on Dec 10, 2013 1:22:32 GMT -6
Liam couldn’t believe what a rotten day or days it had been. Liam didn’t even know how long he had been stuck in this house. Time was funny here, Liam could sense it. While Liam didn’t quite have the magical capabilities of his brothers, he was far more observant and noticed things others did not. Speaking of his brothers, Liam hadn’t seen them since they arrived at this place. He was even beginning to worry about Michael and that was saying something.
“Ach this day is just getting’ worse and worse. Now where could those brothers of mine be?”
Liam had been lucky so far and thanked most of his Irish luck for that. However, luck could only get you so far and Liam needed to be prepared for the worst that could happen. Somehow Liam had made it to the third floor without too many problems. Liam wasn’t quite sure how this was but who was he to question it.
As he was wondering down the hall, he couldn’t help but notice that something felt off. He knocked softly on a door to warn whoever was in there that he was coming in. Just in case that person wasn’t so friendly, he stepped to the side of the door and gently pushed it open with his foot after opening it slightly.
He peeked in and whispered, “Oi. Is anybody in here?” Receiving no reply, Liam quietly stepped into the room. It was a bedroom that had definitely seen better days. The bed, that was facing him from the far wall, looked like it once housed a princess but was left to be eaten by moths and rot by mold. To the right of the bed, the vanity was covered in so much dust that what was once white now looked completely dirty grey. The mirror on the vanity was cracked, but it looked more liked someone punched it in a fit. The dresser, on the far left wall and took up most of it, could match the vanity only there seemed to be claw marks across the top and sides. Surprisingly the furniture wasn’t giving off the bad vibe Liam was constantly feeling.
“Wise up Liam. Yer getting’ paranoid in yer oul age.” Liam leaned back against the wall by the dresser. At least he had a few minutes to relax before trying to find his brothers again.
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Post by Ireland on Dec 14, 2013 7:55:18 GMT -6
Michael was about at his limit being trapped in this house. There was only so much that he could take being stuck within walls. Going to the roof was always an option yet even that scenery was getting on his nerves. He couldn't continue to function with this feeling of being caged. That's what it was, really. Monsters could be patrolling these corridors. They didn't have anything on an increasingly fussy Irishman. The real beast would soon be unleashed if he didn't get a chance to get out.
It didn't help that he had not seen anyone for hours now. Or minutes? He couldn't be sure of how time worked here because it sure as hell seemed odd that his digital watch kept changing its mind on what numbers should be on it. At one point in time it had briefly flashed an unsettling 6:66 on its face and Michael almost chucked it before deciding that even a possessed watch might still come in handy. Alternately, there was a chance the thing had just finally given up the ghost. The lifetime guarantee that had come with the hefty price tag for the item had promised him that the watch would survive the worst conditions, so Michael didn't think that it was broken. Time had to have broken. Because this thing was Swiss. A nuclear explosion might be the only force able to send it a second off its perfect timing.
The Irishman was so caught up in falling in love with his watch for the second time that he almost passed by a room with a door that was ajar. It was the sound of the voice inside that caught his attention. There was no mistaking that Irish accent muttering inside. Michael slunk over to the door to nudge it with his foot, letting it creak open the rest of the way. A hand lifted to the top frame of the door as he ducked his orange head inside. Even the doors in this house were annoyingly short. He settled into a lounging lean in the opened doorway to view the redhead further inside.
A devious smirk spread across his mouth. Liam didn't seem to have any injuries on him. So far they had both been enjoying the luck of the Irish to keep them from harm. Hopefully it would hold up for the rest of their unwanted stay. He lounged there with a shoulder braced to the door frame, voice pouring into the room like a flow of whiskey. "Well, would y'look hare? It seems Aye managed t'stamble across a wee little Naughty Nort'y Irishman. Whit y'doing in hare, Naughty Nort'y? Lookin' fare trouble? 'Cause it looks loike trouble just found ye."
This was an opportunity he would never pass up. No other brothers around. No witnesses. Just one lone Northern Irishman standing in this strange place far away from God and mercy. Michael oozed into the room, body moving with a predatory ease, as he reached a hand behind him to drag the door closed in his wake. The dim lights of the corridor outside were eclipsed, sending a wave of darkness settling into the room in its absence. That smirk had already become a half-feral grin. "Did y'miss me, wee Liam?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 23, 2013 19:55:41 GMT -6
The door opening quickly alerted Liam to an intruder to his temporary sanctuary. His face quickly drained of color as he took in the tall frame and the orange hair. Why did it have to be Michael of all people?
Liam quickly retreated to the other side of the room. Of course he knew he was trapping himself, but there wasn’t much he could do with Michael blocking the door. Hopefully Michael would follow him and Liam could dart around him and get out the door. The last thing Liam wanted was to be trapped in a room alone with Michael.
Liam could feel his temper rise as his brother spoke. Naughty? How in the world was he naughty? “I tink ye lost yer mind Michael. Ah’m here ‘cause Ah needed to rest a’moment. Now if ye coul’ jus’ leave that would be great.”
The bad vibe was growing even stronger. Was it Michael’s presence that was causing it? Maybe a portion of it, but that could just be Liam’s unease from being alone with Michael. No it was something else for sure.
“Did y'miss me, wee Liam?"
Liam’s normally grinning face settled into a deadpan. “No, Ah did not.” If Liam could retreat any farther into the room he would have. There must be another way out Liam just hadn’t found it yet. His green eyes searched every nook and cranny in the room, not bothering to look at Michael. The temptation to punch Michael in the face would have been stronger if he looked at Michael. Of course Liam wouldn’t admit that Michael’s predator like grin unnerved him.
As he was looking a faint groaning caught his ears. His observant gaze followed the sound to the ceiling. Were those cracks forming in the ceiling? That was not a good sign. His distress was apparent in his voice. “Michael we have to get out of here now!”
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Post by Ireland on Dec 29, 2013 6:05:25 GMT -6
Liam's reaction to his arrival was nothing short of priceless. Michael might have laughed to see the Northern Irishman retreating so quickly from him. It wasn't like he'd made any signal of intent to harm the other man. Apparently his vibes of consistent hostility were amplified by the atmosphere? That wasn't something he could easily control. So far he thought he was behaving admirably well.
He effected a pout at Liam's easy dismissal of him. The fact that the other nation wasn't welcoming him with open arms didn't come as any surprise. A very teeny, tiny little part of Michael felt a shade of hurt feeling that Liam was rebuking him so immediately in a place like this. It really spoke of just how deeply the Northern Irishman's dislike of him ran. "Why would Aye leave? Aye just found y'hare. So looks loike yer stuck wit' me a bit longer."
Michael became caught up in surveying the bedroom. There was nothing impressive here in the decorum. Whatever had not been swallowed by dust appeared to have been eaten by rats. This room was forgettable. He had seen others of greater interest to him in his wanderings. His feral grin held its shape as he prowled around, closer now to Liam and still not giving the Northern Irishman a clear path to the door. Michael was able to predict his brother's desire to escape his presence. Barring him from leaving would be more satisfying.
His steps froze when he heard that same groaning. Michael's bright green gaze followed Liam's until he viewed those same spreading cracks. Dust and plaster was sifting down over them already in a cloud. The Irishman gasped when he saw one of the cracks split completely, as the structure collapsed. It was going to come spilling down right where Liam was standing.
His tall, lanky body moved quickly. Michael gave a powerful shove to the other redhead to send him back towards the safety of the wall nearby. "Don't jus' stand t'ere, y'idiot. Move yer feckin' ar--"
The rest of the Irishman's insult was cut off by a thunderous sound as that section of the ceiling above came spilling down upon him. Bits of wood and debris came pouring down over the spot where Michael had just pushed Liam to safety, and the trademark orange of his hair became lost in the sudden rush of the collapse that had piled upon the man to bury him.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 31, 2013 17:46:11 GMT -6
Liam really didn't want to be stuck in a room alone with Michael. He felt guilty when he saw the tiny bit of pain enter Michael's eyes at his dismissal of him. Liam couldn't really help it, the man was everything Liam didn't like and feared so it was natural for Liam to push Michael's away.
"W'll Ah donna want ye here." Liam was beginning to wonder if being stubborn was a family trait since all of his brothers seemed to have it. The jerk! He was purposely keeping Liam trapped in this room with him. Liam would have to come up with a plan B for dealing with Michael.
While Liam was focused on groaning ceiling, he missed the giant crack over his head. The next thing he knows his brother is pushing him into the wall. Liam hit the wall with a hard smack. Just a he was about to yell at Michael, he saw his brother get buried under debris from the ceiling. "Ye eejit why the heck would you do somethin' like that?" Yelling at his brother made Liam feel slightly better, it was better than crying from the sheer worry.
"Now Ah half ta dig ye out." Liam cautiously made his way over to wear he saw Michael's orange hair disappeared. The last thing the two of them needed to was set off another collapse. Liam slowly began shifting debris hoping to find something belonging to his brother. "Seriously, how does one get lost in debris?" After a few minutes of searching Liam still hasn't found Michael yet, which was surprising to Liam. The man had bright orange hair for Pete's sake, he shouldn't be this hard to find. Then again Liam wasn't going very fast to prevent injury to his brother and himself.
"Ah'm gonna punch that American eejit when I see him. Besides this house being evil, it is not structurally sound, he should have checked both of those things b'fore tryin to throw a party here." At least Liam found out where the bad vibe was coming from, but it was still there and that was worrying Liam a lot especially with Michael out of commission. Wait a second why was the world tilted? Liam look down to see his foot stuck in the floor. How did he not notice that? Wait this was bad, another crack was forming between his foot and where the ceiling had collapsed. It took a grand total of five seconds for the floor to collapse. So much for the luck of the Irish.
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Post by Ireland on Jan 9, 2014 16:56:10 GMT -6
As far as days went this wasn't Michael's worst. It was up there, though. At least in a place of 'Honourable Mention'. Having the weight of a ceiling come crashing down on him was a new experience for sure. He was initially too shocked to feel any sense of pain from the spill of debris that came raining down on him. That feeling of pain caught up fast. He could hear Liam yelling at him though the Northern Irishman's voice was muffled under the layers of debris. Michael was more concerned about running out of air, or being trapped here for longer than he had to be. It would be dangerous to give in to that. He knew he had to keep a cool head.
The weight upon him was shifting. Was Liam pulling the pile off of him? He wanted to call out a warning of caution to his younger brother. Of course he could barely move his chest to pull in breath enough to yell. That panic in him slid closer to the surface of his mind. He was going to suffocate before he would be free of this mess. And all he could do to fight it back was to occupy his brain with worries for Liam.
If the weight of the ceiling above managed to compromise the structure of the floor below, then the worst wasn't over yet. Michael knew a thing or two about construction himself. One of the many things he'd dabbled in with passing interest. An old house like this, without repairs to its infrastructure, and sitting in the humid conditions of an American swamp, was bound to be structurally dangerous. Chances were good that not only had the ceiling dropped, but the floor upon which this weight was pressing would also crack under the pressure.
His suspicions were confirmed when Michael felt the world shift beneath him. Pinned as he was, there was nothing he could do to fight it. He went tumbling over as force and gravity pressed him downwards. The debris had cleared enough from around him for the Irishman to catch a glimpse of a new room rushing at him, before his long body went crashing down upon a table in the center. Instinct had him rolling off its surface, just in time to avoid the heavy weight of wooden beams that came smashing down where he had been momentarily sprawled.
Michael braced himself, waiting for the thunderous sounds around them to settle. He had counted on the table to survive the impact of the ceiling overhead. Putting his faith in something besides himself had paid off. The Irishman's head turned for him to squint at the beams that had been stopped before they could land upon him. Looking at the jagged edge of one, Michael was certain that it would have pierced him fatally. A shaking hand, covered in dust, reached inside his collar to touch fingers to the clay beads of his hidden rosary. Aye owe y'one.
His head was aching horribly. Once his hand had acknowledged the presence of that holy item, the heel of it went skimming across his hairline. Wet heat and a stinging burn propelled his hand out in front of him, where Michael saw a vibrant crimson on his coated skin. He'd managed to get himself cut open but without a mirror there was no telling how bad it was. Already, Michael could feel the slow trickle of that blood creeping down over the thick crease of an eyebrow. Lucky it was as thick as any other Kirkland's, and might even keep the crimson from clouding his vision for a little while. "Liam? Are y'down hare? If y'died, Aye'll bring y'back t'loife and kill ye far dyin'."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 9, 2014 17:50:35 GMT -6
Well the saying usually went ‘things had to get worse before they got better’ and Liam wasn’t quite sure how it could get any worse than this. First Micheal gets buried under debris saving Liam and now the floor has collapsed. For a moment time seemed to stop and the next Liam was plummeting to the floor below.
The funny thing about falling is that you really don’t realize until you hit the ground and generally it was when it was a painful landing. This time was no different before Liam knew it his back had smacked the ground hard causing him to lose his breath. He had a second to catch his breath before both the floor and ceiling debris, mostly the ceiling came crashing down on him.
As he was falling he caught a glimpse of a bed that he ended up beside. He quickly crawled underneath the bed, ignoring the pain in his back. Unfortunately he couldn’t get it right leg underneath in time and it was buried by debris. Liam covered his mouth to hold back a scream as he felt something pierce his leg.
Finally it seemed that the debris had stopped falling. Liam slowly made his way out of from underneath the bed which was a lot harder without the use of his right leg. As he finally got out he had good news and bad news, The good news was getting out from undernath the bed had shifted most of the debris off his leg. The bad news was he could now see a wooden plank through his leg. Yeah his Irish luck had died miserable death.
He froze when he heard Micheal’s voice. “Yeah, Ah’m here. And ye couldn’t kill me if ye tried.” The jerkface, threatening to kill him, if he was already dead. It would take a lot more than this to kill him. As he reached to pull out the plank, he noticed his hands were wet. Actually the whole floor was wet, couldn’t they catch a break?
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Post by Ireland on Jan 18, 2014 6:14:58 GMT -6
His body ached in protest, each movement enough to make Michael's muscles scream at him to stay still. He made himself move anyway, pushing through the pain with momentum as he went staggering in the direction of Liam's voice. The Irishman was careful about making his way over, cautiously pushing aside debris in the hopes he wouldn't further upset the precarious structure. Michael found Liam there on the floor, unable to wipe the concern off his face right away, so that it was momentarily revealed before he regained control of his features.
Crouching down near Liam, his hands swatted away the redhead's as he tried to get a better assessment of that injury. "Don't jus' yank it out. Y'don't know if it might get caught on t'muscle and tear even deeper. Jus' hold still." He commanded the younger man. One hand grasped firmly on Liam's shoulder while the other pushed down hard on the redhead's knee to pin it in place, wanting to stop the other from moving it around too much. It could send that plank deeper which would take things from bad to worse.
He knew enough about medicine and healing to surmise that it was too risky to just yank the wood free. There was no telling how jagged the piece was in the injury. Plus, there was clearly the risk of splinters being broken off in the muscle, contaminating the injury and causing infection. Normally that wouldn't be of concern for them as nations. Since the Manor didn't seem to allow them to heal like they did outside of its walls, Michael knew he had to treat Liam's injury as he would do for one of his people on a battlefield.
The issue of the water would have to wait. His head lifted for him to search around the room's mess for anything he could use to safely extract that hunk of wood. There were slim pickings in this place; he'd left his knife at home. He swiped across his forehead, smearing aside another tendril of blood that was now threatening to impact his right eye. "Aye don't s'ppose y'brought a knife wit' ye far t'party? T'at would be handy roight about now. Aye'll have t'get it out noice and slow ot'erwoise, or else it could rip yer t'igh roight open. Nasty business."
Michael made it a point to give Liam a continued check over while waiting for the redhead's answer. He was checking his younger brother for signs of shock, or any reaction that proved Liam's condition was worsening. There would be little he could do if the Northern Irishman dissolved into a panic or worse. As repulsive as he found the sight of that wound to be, Michael kept his tense face held together to try preventing it from prompting anything but calm in the other man. "Jus' leave it t'me, Liam. Aye'll get y'fixed up as best Aye can."
Whatever happened, he'd need to work quickly. Even his human senses could detect the coppery scent of Liam's blood in the air. The last thing they needed was for a beast to be lured by the promise of a quick, easy meal.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2014 0:15:58 GMT -6
Liam nearly growled at Michael. He wanted this dumb plank out of his leg now. The plank wasn’t all the way through his leg, but it still hurt like crazy. He hissed as Micheal shoved his knee down. Even he knew it was a bad idea to just pull the plank out, but being in pain was clouding his mind a bit. Now that Liam thought about it, his mind was getting a bit dizzy.
The pain he was in was causing him to be more irritable than usual. There was a part of Liam that wanted to snap at Michael for touching, however the other part that was his more normal self that reminded him that his brother was worried about and trying to help him.
Liam was pretty sure that by now he was delirious. It seemed like the floor was getting wetter and dirtier from the debris by the minute. It seemed like Michael wasn’t worried so Liam wouldn’t worry about it either. He would have rolled his eyes at Micheal’s question, if he wasn’t already a bit dizzy. “Ah’m sorry, but Ah didn’t. Ah didn’t think Ah would need to bring one.” Honestly if Liam knew he was going to get into so much trouble he would have brought something, like a flamethrower or grenades. Maybe even C4 would have been good to have brought. Seriously though who plans for being held captive in a Manor of all places? If he survives this, he would smack America for being such an idiot for inviting them to this place.
Liam shook his head to clear his thoughts; no doubt the blood loss was making him a bit woozy. He blushed as Michael looked over him examining for other injuries. This was completely going against his avoid Michael at all cost plan. Liam sighed, trying to ignore the pain in his leg. Pain it was all Liam seemed to feel nowadays. Green eye travelled to the face of his brother. Liam knew Michael was holding it together for his sake and he was grateful. The last thing Liam wanted to see was Michael panicking. "Jus' leave it t'me, Liam. Aye'll get y'fixed up as best Aye can."
While Michael was focused on taking care of Liam, Liam forced himself to take in his surroundings. It would do no good for Michael to take care of Liam and they still be trapped and lost. The debris had pretty much destroyed the room that Michael and Liam had fallen into. There was no clear way in and out, it seemed like they were stuck. That would be very bad if it were true. While Liam was very good at ignoring pain, he would have a hard time walking with his leg and defending himself should they be attacked. Hopefully this time the floor wouldn’t try to eat them when they started moving through debris.
Liam flinched when he smelled his blood in there. He was beginning to feel sick from blood loss and that scared him more than he wanted to admit.
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Post by Ireland on Jan 31, 2014 15:40:28 GMT -6
Worrying about the environment around them was secondary. Michael knew that they were still in danger of the place collapsing again. That was part of the reason why he wasn't moving around too much or allowing Liam to do the same. He'd worry about the younger man first, then about how to get them out of here. The main concern was Liam's injury. If he were going to have any chance of getting him to safety then he'd need to extract that plank first.
Michael patted down at his clothes. The costume didn't have much to offer him that was useful. He found a decorative piece of metal that his fingers quickly wrenched off. It was large enough that Liam could bite down on it during the pain of that removal. Michael shoved it at the Northern Irishman with a few quick words. "Boite down on t'is. Aye don't want y'screamin' loud enough t'get any baddies headin' in hare t'foind us."
The fact that Liam was so cooperative was a good indication of how much the injury was causing him to suffer. Michael knew his brother wouldn't want anything to do with him if he had a choice. He wasn't going to let himself get caught up on those thoughts right now. The Irishman rose to his feet, arm swiping once again at his head to wipe away a fresh trickle of blood from the cut on his head. There had to be something around here he could use for a surgery. He had seen sharp edges on plenty of the decorum throughout the house. Michael turned from Liam to start picking his way through the rubble to seek out any item that might serve his purposes.
He eventually encountered a twisted piece of metal from one of the upper windows that was still attached. His foot slammed down at it to bend it over the rest of the way, kicking powerfully at the weakened bar until it went clattering down free. Michael scooped it up to give it a quick check, and satisfied with his choice, the Irishman returned to crouching down in front of Liam. He removed the only two useful items he still had on him -- his prized lighter and the small flask of whiskey he'd smuggled in for the party.
Michael unscrewed the flask to begin pouring the alcohol along the surface of the metal. "Only fer ye would Aye ever waste alcohol loike t'is, Liam. Y'should feel honoured. Sorry t'is isn't professional sanitizer but jus' try not t'get infected, 'kay?"
The technique was crude, yes. Michael flicked open the metal lid of his lighter, rolling the ball of his thumb expertly until he was able to coax a flame out of it. He ran it along the dripping edges of the metal to burn off the alcohol. It was the only form of cleansing he could perform given the circumstances. His hand lowered to steady Liam's leg once it was prepared, and his eyes landed on the man's face. "Are y'ready? T'is is goin' t'hart loike a sonofabitch."
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Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2014 22:13:20 GMT -6
Liam was never very good at sitting still and being in pain wasn’t helping. The adrenaline from the fall earlier wasn’t helping as well. Plus the natural flight instinct that came from being around Micheal, pretty much meant that Liam was ready to move and trying not to fidget was torturing him mentally. He kept his eye looking away from Michael, the last thing he needed was Michael to see how fidgety he was, and make some kind of comment that he knew would piss Liam off.
Liam blinked dazedly at the piece of metal being shoved at him. He put it into his mouth, trying to ignore the disgusting taste of metal. He didn’t know why Micheal was telling him about this. It certainly wasn’t his first time being hurt, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. His country was volatile at best and seemed to have a penchant for problems. Liam was lucky if he went a year without being injured. For once Michael was right, the last thing they needed was something coming up on them with one of them unable to fight.
Liam watched as his brother stood and his eyes focused on the cut on his brother’s forehead. Why hadn’t he taken care of that by now? A green eye followed his brother‘s search for something that Liam quite wasn’t sure of.
As his brother kicked the piece of metal from, Liam’s mind wandered. That looked like great stress relief. Too bad he couldn’t kick something he might actually feel a bit better about the situation. Were his other brothers alright? The water was sure getting higher. How long does it take for Arthur’s eyebrows to dry after getting wet? Where did Liam, Michael and Hamish get their red hair, especially since red hair wasn’t native to Ireland? Liam tried to reel his thoughts back in. This always happened when he was drunk or suffering blood lost and in pain, his mind would wander to the most random of topics.
Liam wasn’t quite sure how to take that statement, dazed or not. Liam thought Michael always thought he was a brat and as a middle child Liam always felt forgotten so he would start playing tricks on his brothers and others for attention. Like most middle children, any attention even if it was bad was better than none and since Michael was the oldest and had to take care of four younger brothers so Liam felt forgotten whether this was true or not. Michael and Hamish were always close so Liam felt awkward trying to be close to them so Michael’s saying what he just said about how he would only do this for him really through him for a loop. Was Michael just saying that to make him feel better?
Liam was dazed, not stupid. Of course he knew it was going to hurt and if there wasn’t metal in his mouth he would tell Michael exactly what he thought about that with as much sarcasm as he could muster. As he couldn’t with the disgusting metal in his mouth, Liam would need to brush his teeth after this, he settled for an eye-roll and a slight glare at Michael
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Post by Ireland on Mar 31, 2014 6:01:28 GMT -6
Of course Michael hadn't expected any sign of gratitude from Liam. He was doing his best here to try to comfort the Northern Irishman counter to his instincts to preserve himself above all others, and the situation was likely to become more dire with every passing minute. It was an effort to grit his teeth and not simply yank out that wood when he saw Liam's eyes roll with the usual distaste. Michael wasn't known for his patience when it came to other people. Liam was skirting a very fine line.
He was still making an assessment of the length of wood impaled into Liam's leg. It wasn't so different from pulling out an arrow, really. Though arrows in combat had gone out of fashion centuries ago; Michael was a little rusty remembering if there was a correct technique to it, or if it were simply a matter of yank and pray. His mind supplied the ready memory of those dark days. The bodies of his people strewn in heaps across the countryside, with the shaft of every arrow acting as a marker to count the dead by.
It was worse when it rained, he thought idly to himself, eyes distant upon Liam's leg below him. Too many bodies to bury in those bloody battles, and when the moisture seeped in it just made them start to smell sooner, until you couldn't find a patch of fresh air for your lungs.
Michael could remember standing amongst them all watching as the rain thinned out the blood upon the green fields. How it diluted down into an insidious red that absorbed into the ground, watering the grasses of his land with the life's blood of his people. His eyes had flickered down to where Liam's blood was currently mixing with the waters around them. The memories almost threatened to overwhelm him. There was enough darkness here without muddling it up with the past.
His head gave a sudden shake. One of Michael's arms raised up to swipe away another hot streak of blood from his brow. It anchored him firmly in the present. Liam didn't need his mind wandering when time was running short. He braced himself, muscles bunching throughout and above the hand that gripped the wood stuck in his younger brother's flesh. Time to act.
With steady strength, Michael yanked out the panel of wood. He threw it quickly over his shoulder to discard it, already in action to clap his hand over the wound to keep the anticipated bubbling of crimson from pouring out too heavily. The Irishman was setting firm pressure over the injury. Having Liam's blood seeping out between his fingers in a hot jet was not all that pleasing. Stopping the bleeding was his next priority.
The Irishman was already tearing at strips of his shirt to create makeshift bandages. Having the fabric wet from their fall made the fibers easier for ripping. Michael bunched them all up in one bloody palm to force upon the wound's location, holding firm. "Shite. Aye fargot whit a bleeder ye are, Liam. Hold t'is down so Aye can wrap it up, 'kay? And don't y'start cryin' on me -- Aye warned ye."
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