Posts by miscellaneyous

The only way Julia could explain the sensation she just felt was as if she was in that tumbling car all over again: weightless. It was a feeling she didn't wish to repeat at the time - and, now that she had, her stomach was doing somersaults. The humming was still ringing in her ears.

The humming. It's what had drawn her to touch the stone in the first place; it was constant, and daresay hypnotic. Slowly, she opened her eyes to the rolling clouds above her, a hand reaching to her head. 'No blood, no trauma' she thought, placing her hands on the ground as she slowly sat herself upwards. Everything was the same; the trees, the flowers, the grey sky. She looked left, and then right, furrowing her brows as to try and conceive what had happened. Nothing was coming to mind.

As she stood up, she smoothed out her cream-coloured dress, her mind immediately hoping she didn't stain it when she hit the ground. She began making her way down the hill to her car, leaving her shawl on the ground in front of the stone, as David would most likely be expecting her back to their room soon; only to be surprised to the fact her car wasn't there. Not just her car; the road. It was all grass and dirt for miles, which confused her greatly as she had just driven up that road to see the stones for herself. 'Maybe I went down the wrong hill...?' She began to make her way through the grass in the way she thought was correct, stepping over stones and under stray branches, when she suddenly heard the telltale sound of a gunshot, making her stop in her tracks immediately. She froze, waited for a second, and as soon as the second shot rang through the air, she began to run.

She didn't exactly know where she was headed in all honesty. She ran through the trees, trying to spot the quickest way out of the forest - out of whatever she had gotten herself into. One misstep sent her tumbling down the hill beside her, and she stopped for a moment; watching, listening. The group of men, wearing red coats and funny hats, darted through the path she was just walking on. This she really couldn't explain. She stood up, not caring that her hair was everywhere and her dress was now torn in some places and covered in dirt, and began running again. Her heart was racing; her mind jumping from logical explanation to explanation; when she was cut short by a man in a red coat washing his hands at the stream in front of her. An audible gulp was heard in her direction as she eyed the man cautiously. He looked back at her, and she turned to run the other way; only to feel her wrist being seized, and she fell to her knees from the sudden jerk backwards with a yelp escaping her lips.

The grip on her wrist was tighter than she expected. For such a scrawny boy, him being able to yank her down like that was a surprise to her; even with her own small stature. Pain jolted up her legs as her knees scraped the ground below her, and she turned her head in one swift movement to spit in his face. "Let go of me you prick!" She cursed at him, trying her best to break free of his grip. The expression on his face said otherwise: what started with excitement and determination had turned into rage. Fear crept up her stomach and into her chest, making her want to throw up. She didn't want to think of what plans he had in store for her - that only made her stomach twist and turn even more.

Her thoughts were interrupted from the sudden movement of the man being pushed away, making her fall forward with him. As soon as her hands hit the dirt, she was already upright and ready to go. Without hesitation, she did as the bigger man said, bolting towards the horse that was stationary a fair bit away. Part of her was screaming not to listen to him and to run from here as fast as she could, but she didn't care. All she wanted was to get as far away from that redcoat as possible.

Julia, only five foot six, struggled to hoist herself up onto the horse - but, through determination and the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins, she managed to get up and sit somewhat awkwardly on the front of the saddle. The last time she had ridden a horse was when she was fourteen years old: her parents had taken her to the outskirts of Bristol, near Wells, to try it for the first time. She quite enjoyed it, and she found the large beasts quite magnificent. Her father thought otherwise - he only saw them as profit.

Although she loved her father dearly, it was hard to be around him. He wanted her to be the 'perfect woman' like most men saw her: a loving wife that stayed at home cooking and cleaning and taking care of the children. He frowned upon her becoming a nurse, or volunteering as one in the war, but he knew he couldn't stop her. Her mother was aware of the fire that burnt in Julia's soul to help and care for people. She knew Julia couldn't stay idle for long, and she was proud of her.

She wanted this to be a dream. She wanted to wake up and be back in her room at the inn with David; but she knew it wasn't. She turned in time to see her former savior kill the man, and a hand went up to her mouth in astonishment. She knew she was in the middle of a fight of some sorts, but it still took her by surprise to see the blood that now covered the Scot's clothes, so she looked away from the gruesome scene before her. Maybe getting onto that horse wasn't the best idea she had; but she would rather be in the presence of someone who could possibly protect her than assault her. Dizziness toyed at the edge of her senses, and she blinked hard to cast it away, hoping that would work. She felt the man climb onto the horse and sit behind her, and before she could protest, they were off. There was no turning back now.

"Speech."

The ride was overbearingly awkward as Julia and him sat in silence, the 'clop' of the horse as it walked being the only noise to break the deafening quietness. She didn't know what to say, nor how to say it. Although his words were little, Julia felt some comfort in him saying she was safe with him. With enough time on her hands, she tried to pinpoint the exact time she was in: from the clothes and weapons alone, she figured it was most likely the eighteenth century, but when or who sat on the throne, she was unsure.

The trees cleared to unveil a little shelter slightly overrun by plantlife; the sight of it brought ease to her anxiety-filled chest. She was done riding with him behind her a long time ago - although she did enjoy his warmth, for she had little to no ways to cover up. As the light drizzle dampened her hair, it began coiling up in little ringlets, getting in her face and slightly ticking her off. She brushed her hair behind her ear, turning her head as he spoke. She had zero idea what he was saying; she had heard Gaelic before, and had seen it on paper, but had never actually been spoken to with it. As he got off, she watched him, wondering whose blood was whose. As he outstretched his now clean hand to her, she smiled faintly, taking it gently and using it to get down from the horse. Julia gulped, for her cover was blown. "I'm sorry, I don't understand..." She trailed off, her English accent surely giving her away. The cold began to get to her; the source of warmth was no longer behind her, and she tried her best to stand still. She wrung her hands together anxiously as she stood in front of him, having to slightly crane her head just to look him in the eye. He was a handsome fellow to say the least; looking at him definitely made her blush slightly, but she chalked it up to being a tad embarrassed over the fact she wasn't Scottish.

"Speech."

Perhaps it was because she was cold and tired, or it was the hunger that rumbled like a stampede in Julia's stomach that made her put her guard down; either way, a relief snaked inside her skin at the mention of getting out of the rain and into the bothy.

She could tell he wasn't in the mood to deal with an Englishwoman, let alone anyone at this point; which is why escape was one of her main concerns. She had no idea where she was though, and like he had said, trying to find the road back to Inverness was a fool's errand. She noted the hiss that left his lips as he took hold of the reigns to tie up the horse, and she knew her conscience wouldn't let her leave the man to his injuries. 'Maybe after getting settled in,' she thought - for she would have to help him eventually. Maybe that wasn't someone else's blood.

The shivering woman wrapped her arms around her torso, and gave him another small smile as she entered the bothy. It wasn't much; a bed, a fireplace, some wooden stools, and a cooking spit were the only items that littered about. "Food would be nice, yes. No matter how little." she replied, stopping just before the fireplace to turn and look at him the best she could. "Sassenach?" It was a word she had heard before, once being said by someone to her and David as they were travelling to the inn; she had no clue what it had meant, though. Her mind wondered if it was supposed to be a derogatory term for her. She felt bad, for she wasn't being one for conversation, but she also didn't want to get too attached to the person. She would be leaving soon, after all.

Julia began searching around for some kindling or logs that would help start the fire to both the cooking spit and the fireplace, for the twang of helplessness guilted her greatly; she knew what she was doing for the most part, and tried her best to show it, but since everything was already automatically done in her day she never really bothered with her fireplace at home. Like Hell she was just going to sit around a freeze to death.

"Speech."

A huff of air escaped Julia's lips as he told her what 'Sassenach' meant. He had no idea just how far away from home she truly was.

Out of the corner of her eye she followed the large man's movements to the stool, and tried her best to stifle a laugh as he wobbled when he sat down. She would've probably reacted the same if that was her in his shoes, but it was funny nonetheless. As she made a neat little pile of wood in the fireplace, she realized she had nothing to light it with; no matches, and certainly no Zippo lighters like the one David carried around with him everywhere. She turned, and her eyes noticed the blade that rested in his lap - causing her to hold her breath, until she realized it was for the bread and cheese. She exhaled slowly, and her stomach panged with hunger at the sight of food.

The girl took the object gingerly from him as he arrived beside her, a hot blush finding it's way into her face as she realized he knew she didn't quite know what she was doing. Her blanched fingers grabbed hold of the rock that sat itself a few inches away, and she steadied her hands as he spoke. She placed both the peat and the brick down on the ground, the former on top of the latter, the flint still in her right hand as she took hold of the clasp that held his kilt. "I didn't realize how big those were until now." She muttered, and readied herself to strike the flint like he had said. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as he told her to imagine that was his head.

Like he had said, she began striking the rock with the clasp as best she could, trying not to hit herself. In a moments notice, the peat began to smoke, and she laughed in excitement for she had done it. "It's lit!" She exclaimed, quickly taking the smoldering fuel and placing it in with the kindling. The fire began in no time, and she could already feel the warmth begin to return to her limbs as she sat on her bottom on the floor. "Thank you. For this...for saving me...you could've just left me, and you didn't." her hands toyed with the clasp for a moment before she gave it back to him, her expression full of sincerity. She wrapped her arms around herself in comfort, her eyes grazing across his torso to see where the blood was coming from for it hadn't stopped. "You've been wounded. Let me have a look...it's the least I can do." She stated obviously, turning herself to look at him straight on. Her hands impulsively reached out to caress his bicep, and she touched it warily. "Have you been shot?" The girl said in disbelief, the problem adding on top of her thoughts as she was still trying to fully process where she was and how she got here. She never thought she would end up having to play nurse again.

"Speech."

Julia helped the man carefully take off his overcoat, smiling again at the mention of him giving it to her to keep her warm. She let him take off his shirt himself, and bit the inside of her own cheek at the sight before her. She moved her gaze from his abs and the etched symbols to the gash on his abdomen, then to the bullet wound to his arm. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph." She exclaimed.

Both wounds looked quite bad; they weren't severe, yet, but she could tell he was in a lot of discomfort. She made notes to herself about both wounds: the gash wasn't deep, but it was irritated and threatening infection; the gunshot wound was fresh, but what seemed to be the bullet was still inside his arm. She tried her best to make her touches light as she concluded her examination. She would have to remove the foreign object first - the best she could do after that would be to cover it up with a clean cloth and pray it wouldn't fester. His abdomen was another story; he would most likely need to get it stitched, but she didn't have the equipment for that on her. "The round seems to have just gone into the muscle. I don't think it's serious, but you've lost a fair amount of blood, and it's still in there. It'll need to be disinfected before I can remove it and dress both wounds properly." The brunette looked around the area with her gaze, looking for anything she could use. Her eyes caught sight of the sgian dubh that rested with the bread and cheese and she grabbed it, turning back only to realize he was looking at her funny. "You know..." she paused, hoping he would clue in. He didn't. "...it needs to be cleaned to protect it from germs. Do you have any iodine?" She felt like she had two heads sitting neatly on her shoulders from the way he was looking at her. She ran a hand through her crazed hair in thought. "Alcohol?" A wave of relief washed over her as he handed her the waterskin, but after a second she handed it back to him. "You might want to take a swig. This isn't going to be pleasant."

Julia poured the alcohol over the knife, gave him an apologetic look, then poured a bit more on the wound. She gave him the waterskin back and grabbed hold of his arm, the feeling of his muscles tensing hard under her fingertips. She made fast work; her eyebrows furrowed together as she tried her best not to open the wound more. The knife dug into the site and, after a few moments, out popped the little ball. "Got it!" She placed the bloodied knife down on the ground, admiring her handiwork for a second before looking around again for something to cover up both arm and abdomen. With no luck, she sighed, then began tearing a strip off of her dress. She seized the waterskin from him and drenched the strip of cloth in it before wrapping one around his arm, tying the ends together neatly. She stood upright and eyed his side, her head tilted just a tad. "I'm going to need you to lift your arm the best you can. You're lucky it's not too deep; I don't have a needle and thread with me to stitch you up though, so the best I can do is clean it and cover it up for now." She impulsively wiped the back of her hand across her forehead, unaware she left a trail of his blood above her browbone for her hands were covered in it. She continued ripping a few more strips off of her dress, for there wasn't much point to use something else. She didn't really like the dress anyway.

"Speech."

Julia moved to take a step back as he drew closer to her, but his touch steadied her almost instantly. His hands, although rough and calloused, brought her some comfort for being in the presence of such an intimidating man. She felt the hot flush rise across her chest and over her cheeks once more as her brown eyes gazed into his green ones, and for a second something felt right about that moment...

Except it wasn't. Or, it shouldn't have been. She was still a married woman; even though her husband wasn't even alive yet. She gave him a small smile as he retracted his hand, her eyes looking down at the ground now. "Thank you. I'd rather not yell at you for moving, because I have before to my other patients and I won't hesitate on you." She teased, fiddling with the drenched fabric-turned-bandages that wrapped around her hands. She stretched them out to their full lengths as he lifted his arm, splashed some of the booze on his body, then began to wrap the fabric around his abdomen over the gash so it covered it wholly. The smell of blood, firewood, and sweat mingled in the air around them, creating a unique scent she was likely not to forget anytime soon. "Nice to meet you, Uisdean. Am I saying that correctly?" A grunt escaped her lips as she tried to keep the ends of the bandages together. She enjoyed listening to him speak: his words were unique, and each time he spoke it made her skin feel like she had just dipped herself into a cool spring on a hot Summer's day. "I'm Julia." She finished, tying the ends together neatly so they wouldn't unravel. With her hands on her hips, she admired her handiwork for a quick second before helping him lower his arm. The girl brought the waterskin to her lips and took a swig herself, only to begin to cough uncontrollably. "That's got a kick to it!" She laughed, handing it back to him before wiping her lips dry with her left hand.

Her back turned to him as she warmed herself up by the fire, and she began to wonder how she would make it back to the stones. "Thank you again for saving me today." She turned back and gave him a smile, her arms crossed across her chest. "I don't want to be too much of a burden; once the rain stops, if I could possibly head back to Inverness, I would be most grateful." A twang of guilt pulsed through her chest for she did't want to go yet, but she needed to. She had to get back home: back to 1946.

"Speech."

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"Speech."

Julia could feel her heartbeat pick up the pace as he spoke, and she grasped the wedding band on her finger so hard that she thought her right hand was going to pop off. Her hero-turned-escort wasn't welcome in Inverness, where she needed to go. At the mention of Castle Leod, though, she found herself exhaling a breath she didn't realize she was holding. "It's just a detour," she thought to herself. "You can go a few more days." The girl nodded in agreement, excited to be finally on some sort of path to home. "That would be nice, thank you."

Without a word or complain, she gratefully sat down on the bed with the coat wrapped around her shoulders to keep her warm. Bits and pieces of the bread and cheese were broken off by her so she could share the tiny meal with him, trying her best not to eat too much without saving some for Uisdean. She thought about how kind he was, how cruel this era is, and just how different Scotland could be. She even had her own version to say her name; which she found was most interesting in her eyes. He didn't to his own, though, and she could see that in plain daylight. She cleared her throat after finishing her bite, fiddling with the bread in her hand. "So, what brought you to be near that part of the woods earlier today?"

Before the girl could even realize how tired she actually was from the events of the day, she found herself beginning to doze off while sitting upright. A quick jolt of her drifting sideways woke her up fully, and she panicked for a moment for she forgot where she was. Her eyes darted frantically around the room only to land on Uisdean, and the panic was replaced by a feeling of safeness. She sighed, wrapping the coat around her tightly to keep the warmth in. "Oh! I'm sorry. I seemed to have dozed off there. I guess I'm a lot more tired than I thought." Julia murmured, slightly embarrassed at the fact she fell asleep while he was awake and well. The heaviness sank back in her chest, and she rubbed her eyes as she got a bit more comfortable on the not-very-comfortable bed underneath her. Before long, she was fast asleep again - blissfully unaware of what she really had in store for her tomorrow.

timeskip after your/in the middle of/your next post?

"Speech."