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9 yrs ago
Current Checking some stuff out!

Bio

I'm Sterling, I've been writing/roleplaying for 11 years now. I like reading, writing, singing, dancing, horse back ridding and dog training.

I like highly detailed plots and games. While I don't think all posts should be three or four paragraphs long, I think it is harder to have quality with stunted posts.

I'm more into fantasy and historical than sci fi etc. but if the writers are good, that's really what matters.

Please feel free to message me. I'm fairly good at being nice.

Most Recent Posts

@Jbcool That was just me unsure of my commitment to the boy waking up you goober
Cool beans JB. I'lllllll... Probablllyyyyy have the boy wake upppppp?
@idlehands Para ti
Having found her coffee quickly enough Harriet sipped it while meandering over to her medicine counters. In one of the drawers she opened there was a stack of tidy papers. Pulling one sheaf out and spreading it on the counter top she glanced through the window to see what was happening.

The posse was still being form, it was surprising to the nurse that it was taking this long. Normally people around here were eager to go off and chase Indians. Her warm eyes drifted to Mr. Ross who was seemingly conversing with his horse, then to a man hustling to the sheriff. Pressing her lips together in a small frown Harriet moved her coffee cup from her left to her right hand and fished a pencil out of her apron pocket.

She put the pencil tip down as if to write, then thinking better of it shook her head. Putting the paper away and stowing the pencil back in the apron pocket Harriet had another sip of her coffee as she carefully opened the door into the small room they had deposited the boy into. He was still out. Counting the rise and fall of his breaths the nurse was satisfied with his status and closed the door.

Another look out the window would tell her that Mr. Ross was returning, but he stopped just outside the door, apparently taking up his station there. Very well…

Harriet turned so her backside was to the door and pulled a small ledger out of another drawer. Setting her cup down the nurse gripped her pencil in her left hand and found a clean empty page in the ledger. Jotting down the date in a tidy quick hand she then began to write.

Young boy, approximately 8-12 years of age. Appeared in town, Indian attack. Fainted. No obvious injuries. Dehydration, sun exposure and exhaustion . Treated skin and put to rest. Will hydrate when awake next.

A new page was found and Harriet added the date once more.

Mr. Benjamin Ross. Approximate age28-34 years. Previous injury acquired in the line of duty. Severe break of the Fibula and Tibia? Reconstruction done in military hospital. Amputation suggested but patient denied.

Her dark eyes drifted over her shoulder to Mr. Ross who was still standing guard with his rifle.

Patient denied. Medial Condyle affected. Intense muscular tension and damage. Administered 3-6 minutes of deep tissue massage. Patient reported some relief. Stronger pain relief suggested, patient seemed uninterested.

Harriet smiled at this and closed the ledger, stowing it back in the drawer it lived in and her pencil back in her apron pocket. Plucking up her empty coffee cup she moved past the front door where Mr. Ross was lingering to take the cup back into the kitchen suits.

Upon her return she paused by the door to look out at the group finally gathering. “Took them a while didn’t it?” She commented conversationally. Warm eyes moved to Mr. Ross’ rifle and then to his horse who stood ready.

“You know… We finished with the boy so quickly… I had asked for your assistance thinking the posse would have already ridden out by now…” But obviously they hadn’t. “I see no reason why you ought to stay here Mr. Ross.” Other than that Mr. Cothran had told him to stay, but surely that had mostly been to aid Harriet? The likeliness of another attack, within in the town proper, was low. She didn’t need a guard.

Her brows rose questioningly. Did he want to go?
@SilentWonders I feel like I PMed you but now can't find proof of it
Oh okay cool. I think I could do an interesting Katniss for your Haymich or Effie
Are you wanting to mostly write based off the books or the movies?
Hmmm
Are you still taking people for this or has the IC started?
@idlehands

((( Continued scene with Sterling and Idle))))

He could feel her hands working higher past his knee at the tense muscle of his lean meat of his thigh. It was bunched as he kept it tense to compensate for the weakness of his lower leg. It had been some time since he last felt a female hand on any part of his body and it reacted as it would. Feeling himself stir despite willing himself to ignore it, he tried to answer her rapid fire questions.

“Well, I, ah, was born in San Antonio and I do like Texas well enough, Miss Coleman,” Benj inhaled sharply, turning his hip so he was more sideways to hide anything that might offend the nurse. A blush crept up his suntanned face, “I was...a Texas Ranger before the war. Like my father before me.”

“Really? A native Texan then. Must be used to the heat by now then…” She grinned at the typical joke made about Texas. Hands moving higher.

“A ranger? I’ve heard stories about the Texas Rangers but of course they were ...well not really around by the time I came to Texas. I’m from Kentucky myself.”

Harriet was halfway up the man’s upper leg before she realized she might be making him uncomfortable. Hands slowing the nurse looked up to see Mr. Ross’ expression, finally taking her ministrations away and folding her hands neatly before herself once more, though this was almost impossible considering her proximity to his leg, having had to move forward to continue the massage.

It was clear that Harriet Coleman enjoyed being a nurse and could get caught up in being helpful.

Benj tried not to look down at her, his face hot with embarrassment, “That uh, massaging was nice. It does make me feel, well my leg feel better.”

He closed his eyes briefly, a rare smile touching his face as he laughed internally at himself. The dimple that creased the right side of his face was mostly hidden under the scruffy reddish beard. “Thank you, Nurse Coleman, ma’am. You’re most kind.”

Her mouth perked in good humor. “I’m sorry if I ah… Rubbed a little too much Mr. Ross.” The nurse primly and pointedly kept her eyes fixed on his face. “I sometimes get caught up in the treatment and lose thought of anything but the task at hand…” trying to hide her smile her own cheeks dimpled slightly before Harriet looked away.

There was no where to back up with the table behind him and she was directly before so he stood awkwardly with hands crossed below his belt buckle and he forced himself to look away from the doe eyes and think of a number of distasteful things. It had been awhile since he had bothered to feel anything of this nature, the morphine dulled his emotions and desires as well as the pain but coming off of it he became more sensitive. After a few deep breaths, he returned to less embarrassing state and rubbed his hand over his mouth, unable to look her in the face.

Realizing she had effectively trapped the man Harriet shuffled backwards before pressing her hand to the floor to gain purchase on the table in an attempt to haul herself up.

“Now where did I put my coffee?” She asked aloud, straightening her apron once back on her feet.

Benj had forgotten the coffee and his manners, too disconcerted after the encounter. After he settled himself, the knot of anxiety started to come back. He would have to come back and ask the much less attentive doctor for morphine. Nurse Coleman did not seem the kind to dole out medicine like penny candy. He smoothed down his pant leg, tugging it over his boot, “I should...um, probably get my rifle. Just in case.”

He shuffled out the door, ducking his head as he limped past the gathering posse to gather his Henry rifle from the saddle and gave Lucy a pat on the neck. The mustang stood dozing in the shade, her back hoof tilted. She turned and butted her long nose against his shoulder, “Nope, not this time girl.”

Hefting his rifle, he paused, looking at the saddle back and he reached in, feeling the wood grain of the box but left it. Benj doubted he could hide much from Harriet Coleman’s observant gaze.
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