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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Sept 27, 2012 14:53:23 GMT -5
Rhiannon had nearly tripped over a man that had passed out on the edge of town. She really needed to get home, but she didn't have the heart to just leave the drunken man there to lie. Thankfully, there was a bench nearby next to a tall oak tree. She used every ounce of strength she had to hoist the man onto the bench and set him up right. She heard him groan and wake up.
"Are you okay...do you need anything?"
She knew it was getting late and Dewi would probably be worried if she didn't go back soon, but this man needed help and Rhiannon planned on getting him on his feet before leaving.
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Sept 27, 2012 14:57:53 GMT -5
Dear god he felt awful Suddenly he vomited on the floor. Thiere couldn't remember a thing, being a a Frenchman meant he drunk as much as he could.Bad idea. He started breathing quickly he stared so dizzily at his sick. It was full of wine and bile. He was almost sick again.
He fell into his sick dazed by the alcohol. He almost fel asleep in the yucky sticky bile. It was awful. Oh so awful.
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Sept 27, 2012 15:03:36 GMT -5
Rhiannon felt pity for him. He was so ill and was vomiting non-stop.
"Would you like some water?" She asked softly, hoping she could help him in any way she could. Annie dug through her leather bag of medicines and found a small bottle of a stomach remedy. It was made of Chamomile and had honey in it to sweeten the flavor. It tasted quite good for a medicine.
"Try this," she offered.
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Sept 28, 2012 13:30:53 GMT -5
Thiere looked up nodding, or t least he tried. It felt like he had been stabbed with poison. Dear god his Colonel would tell him off. 12 floggings he thought. Why did he have to enter this drinking competition only to win a feble sowing kit. His bayonet was digging in his side. He moved his hand slowly and pushed it away. He was young, every one of his features said so. His eyes looked full of unused sympathy and pity. They shined in the moon light.
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Sept 28, 2012 14:05:27 GMT -5
"Sir, you look like you're going to be sick," Rhiannon said, worried. "Maybe you should go see a doctor...."
She couldn't exactly take him home with her, she lived half a mile away and there was no way on Earth she could support him enough to help him walk that far. As he nodded, Rhiannon handed him her own flask, also handmade, and let him drink from it. She would wash it out later.
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Sept 29, 2012 5:08:08 GMT -5
Thiere tried to get up, he did so very wobbly, halmost slipped on the bile. He put a foot foward, stepping on the bile and slipped this time. Smashing his head agaisnt the bench. The gash was quite big but almost no blood came from it. He sank to the floor, back into the bile.
He started to break down. His features dropped, he started dribbling.
He felt awful, then he couldn't feel. Everything went blank.
Then he it, unconsciousness.
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Sept 29, 2012 11:05:32 GMT -5
Annie decided she would call the seventh. Thankfully, McEwan was in town and could be seen a few yards away. Rhiannon made her way over to him and asked,
"McEwan, would you help me contact the 7th? There's a man over there who needs....assistance.."
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Sept 30, 2012 14:41:52 GMT -5
" I can pull him back to yer' house!" McEwan said witha thick scottish accent. Thiere gurgled a little but stayed silent. " You grab gis legs!" McEwan said grabbing his arms and lifted his torso up off the ground. It was drizzling, awful weather. Awful.
Thiere gurgled blood this time, spewing it all over his tattered French uniform. Most of his bile was on him now not the floor. He stank of god knows what.
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Sept 30, 2012 14:49:47 GMT -5
Rhiannon did as she was told and helped carry him back to her home. She had McEwan lay the man on her bed. She wrinkled her nose, he smelled God awful and now it was all over her sheets.
"Thank you, McEwan," she told him as she got up and rummaged around her house for some stomach remedy.
"Sir," she asked the man on the bed, "What aches, specifically?"
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Oct 1, 2012 12:38:39 GMT -5
" ******* everything!" He laughed before spewing some more. It went everywhere. The thrashed around in the bed, and stopped and threw his jacket at the woman. Suddenly lashing out with his fist. Aiming for her face.
Alcohol has all sorts of effects..
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Oct 1, 2012 13:52:35 GMT -5
Unfortunately, Annie didn't have the world's best reaction time. So when the man threw his jacket at her, she was barely able to catch it. She was still kneeling so it knocked her on her bum when he lashed out and hit her nose.
"Ouch! That hurt," she squeaked, holding her now bruised nose in her little hands.
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Oct 1, 2012 13:59:27 GMT -5
Thiere kicked the covers off and ran sporadically past the woman and out into the next room. as he ran into the middle of the room he was confronted by McEwan.
McEwan threw a hard punch at him knocking him to the floor. " You bloody French bastard! Don't ever his a woman again!" McEwan started kicking him on the floor for good measure.
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Oct 1, 2012 14:05:56 GMT -5
Annie's nose was bleeding a bit, so she got a cloth and held her nose and walked out to see McEwan beating the hell out of the drunken man.
"Oh McEwan stop! He doesn't know what he's doing. Besides, I don't need more things to patch up on him," she told the kind man. She appreciated the defense he provided for her though.
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Oct 1, 2012 14:11:32 GMT -5
" He's a bloody frog! it's my job to beat the hell out of him!" He replied viciously, he took a deep breath and apologised for his bitterness. He stepped back to let Rhiannon tend to the frog.
Thiere was sprawled across the floor, spread eagle. His face was red with blood, staining the dusty floor.
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Oct 1, 2012 14:19:12 GMT -5
Rhiannon wasn't thrilled when she saw blood staining her floors. She worked night and day to keep things clean around here and now it was dirty. Again.
"Well now his blood is on my floor," she told McEwan, giving him a stern look. She really wasn't frustrated though, just a bit bothered that she'd need to scrub the floors.
She knelt down again, this time ready for him to throw punches or his clothing at her.
"Mister, I need you to lie back, and just relax," she said, looking down on him since he was on the floor.
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Oct 1, 2012 14:39:28 GMT -5
" I'll clean it miss." McEwan offered kindly, first he hoisted Thiere up and dragged him to the bed and threw him onto it. Before walking back into the other room to start scrubbing.
Thiere was almost sleeping apart from the excruciating pain all over his body. He rolled up in the sheets. It was like a cocoon to him, he was a little Caterpillar in a world of horrors. Until he spewed again. He rolled around the bed, almost falling off once or twice.
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Oct 1, 2012 14:53:10 GMT -5
She smiled and began to walk to the other room.
"Thank you McEwan, that'd be a big help while I deal with this one," she said, rolling her eyes and pointing at the drunk with her thumb.
She handed the drunk man her stomach serum and told him,
"Drink. It'll stop the vomiting."
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Oct 3, 2012 12:02:02 GMT -5
Thiere grabbed the cup cup, looking at it dizzily and then threw it at the wall. He rolled over to face Rhiannon. " Oh baby,......" He muttered leaning close to her puckering his lips.
McEwan scrubbed hard, the blood coming from the floor. McEwan opened the door to throw the dirty water out and he did so.
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Post by Rhiannon ☽ on Oct 3, 2012 12:12:48 GMT -5
Rhiannon huffed a little when he threw the drink at the wall. He was being such a child!
When he leaned in for a kiss, she nearly gagged. Not only because of the smell but because she just plain didn't want anything to do with his lips.
"Maybe you should continue to lie down..." She said, pushing him back down gently.
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Post by Drunk Pasty on Oct 8, 2012 13:52:20 GMT -5
THIERE
"Non!" He said in French thrashing around, he spat at her and rolled out of bed. He got up, this time he had a bayonet in his hand he was grinning. " come here baby!" He ran at her, only to trip up and smash his head on the corner of a small cupboard. Blood poured from the gash on his forehead. He groaned slightly, then grunted with immense pain.
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