Comes The Priest And Parrot Lurve

Carey arrives, a pinky is lost, and new romance arrives on the wings of desire WARNING: long

Fredricks is sitting on a Cot in the Aid station having just released Austin into the wild, and spent a lot of the day in surgery.

Woods looks a bit sad, petting a parrot. He's bandaged up, but peaceful. A glance to Fredricks. "Do you like birds?" Woods asks, apparently not eager to think about having just scared Schoenfelt off.

Kappedal is over near Slayback and Woods, sitting on a stool between their cots. He's carefully cleaning and re-dressing the former's hand wound, while Elly is probably pondering new ways to fix his hair for him.

Elly does ponder this, eyeing Kappedal's hair with interesting. Oh yeah!

Fredricks looks to Woods, "I don't mind birds. as I mentioned my Aunt raised them for sale to zoos and as pets and the like. Spending a summer on her farm was.. interesting."

Carey comes walking toward the collection of tents from the beach. He looks like a reasonably new arrival, in that his khakis are still reasonably clean. He ducks inside the main hospital tent, blue-green eyes taking a quick look around. As if getting a feel for the place. And as if he's looking for someone, and is not entirely sure who.

Woods nods, and smiles. "That's good. I think," He reconsiders that. Woods is doing his best mummy impersonation, looking to Kappedal. The parrot warbles towards Kappedal. That hair is fun! "She seems fond of Ben." A headtilt. The new comer causes Woods to lift his head, and offer a wave with his good hand. "Hi."

Kappedal's dark blue eyes lift from his assessing study of Slayback's sewn-on fingers, looking at the bird. He smiles a little, a crooked expression that brings out one dimple. Then Woods is looking at someone past them and he turns a bit, glancing over his shoulder at Carey.

Fredricks looks up at Carey. Chaplain. Catholic crucifix. Mentally buckling in, he nods to the man, "Hello.. Um, Father?" He asks as if slightly uncertain.

Carey's eyes crinkle with a mild sort of amusement when Fredricks buckles. But he keeps his tone chuckle-free when he answers. "Father Francis Carey," he supplies. "Are you in charge of this place?"

Woods can't help but smile back after a moment. Elly eventually flutters a second, considering Kappedal. "Sssh, no, wait. He's working," Woods murmurs to his bird. A glance up at the Father. Carey is provoking a curious stare from Woods. … let's play 'Which one of these doesn't go to church regularly and the last time they went involved either an inquisition or taunting the French?'.

Kappedal is staring a little too. Though his curiosity is probably a different breed from Woods'. He squints, muttering to Woods, "Doc's father? He doesn't look old enough."

Fredricks tilts his head, "After a fashion." He rises, "Doctor Jason Fredricks, Civilian attachment to the First USMC division. If you meant this Aid Station, then I'm in charge, but the Unit is under direct Marine Command. what can I do for you, Father?"

Carey extends a calloused hand to Fredricks, for shaking purposes. "U.S. Navy. Chaplain's Corps. And I meant this place, yeah. I've reported in and gotten that paperwork bullshit out of the way with your Captain Christie already. Wanted to get to work. This's usually the place hands're most needed, unfortunately."

Woods ponders Kappedal's question, "I think… I think it means he's Catholic, a priest. I forget how high up on the ladder though." Woods is somewhat knowledgeable in the 'this is a priest, THAT is a nun' sort of way. "But the last time I went to any church was YEARS ago," Woods' eyes are wide with horror. What if he or the missionary finds out? Woods looks scared. Elly takes advantage and clambers over towards Kappedal to groom his hair. Preen!

"Oh. Catholic?" Kappedal's voice is still very low as he looks back at the new arrival, curiously. "I thought they were all Italians." As Elly starts preening him he smirks, reaching up to secure the clip of his kippah a little tighter. Not yours, bird.

Fredricks nods, and gestures further into the Station, "Any medical training then, Father? I'll introduce you around." THIS should be fun. He brings the Father closer. "This is Private Vincent Woods, our currently awake wounded soldier, recovering from a few wounds." He understates the matter. "And this is Private Ben Kappedal, our top combat Medic. His grooming assistant is Elly. Elly has no rank."

"I'm no doctor," Carey says as he falls into step beside Fredricks. "But I'm trained in basic first aid and I can assist with seeing the boys get themselves better. My last assignment was aboard a hospital ship, and I ended up working quite a bit with the nurses." He follows Fredricks, pausing when Woods and Kappedal are introduced. He takes a moment to look him both over. Spending a particularly long few second assessing Kappedal. Though what he takes away from it is hard to read from his face. His expression is friendly, eyes still twinkling with that dry humor. "Are you sure she doesn't have a commission?" he asks, in regard to Elly. "She reminds me of a few officers I've known."

"Hello!" Elly replies, frantically bobbing her head for a moment after pausing in her grooming. A whisper to Kappedal, "Nah, some're Irish and a gaggle came to America," A nod from Woods. He goes quiet and smiles, "Hello sir." Woods is doing an accurate portrayal of King Tut right about now. He laughs softly on the commission comment, "She's working through the ranks." He smiles. "Pleased to meet you."

Kappedal likewise spends a rather long time looking at Carey, his blue eyes terribly curious. Like when you see an animal that you'd only read about in books on the African serengeti. "Sir," he echoes Woods in amiable greeting. If Woods calls the man sir, it must be right. His hand reaches up and strokes Elly's long tail feathers. No talons in shoulder, girl.

Fredricks nods, "She doesn't have the time in." He says severely. "Although, for a native of this place, she's picking up English faster than our guide." He looks to Woods and Kappedal, "This is Father Francis Carey, Unit Chaplain, also trained in nursing." He looks to the Father, "Which is going to be of immense use off the bat. We'll be able to use you in the rotation of men laid up here."

"Just shipped here by the Navy Chaplain's Corps," Carey says. He snorts at the 'sir' from Woods and Kappedal, crooking a grin. "Stow the 'sir' crap, boys. My commission's just for show. Call me 'Padre' if you want to stick any sort of title on me." He's amiable enough about it. Again, he seems mildly amused. Though his nod to Fredricks is serious enough. "Whatever needs to done, Doctor. I'll lend a hand as I'm able."

Roarke sits up in his cot, gasping for breath. He coughs and a large amount of half-coagulated blood spews from his mouth. He looks around for someone to hold him.

Elly seems amused by the pettings. She doesn't, fortunately, have the PARROT DEATH GRIP ACTION going on on Kappedal's shoulder. She's content to periodically groom his hair and peer around. "Oh, alright," Woods smiles a little. "Still, nice to meet you." He blinks, at Roarke. "Uh. That's not good."

Fredricks looks over and moves to Roarke, "Relax. Relax." He turns roarke so he's on his side and able to hack blood out onto the floor, "you've gotten out of surgery, just relax.

Kappedal is about to say something to Carey, but then Roarke wakes up and does THAT. Ewww. He stands up as Fredricks starts over, following at a slower pace. He's still limping a bit from wrenching his leg in the river earlier. Grabbing a towel, he helps clean off Roarke's face and the newly blood-spattered cot.

Tavua makes his glorious entrance! The islander trudges through the sand up to the Aid station, peering in, looking about, "Annabelle?" he calls quietly, able to speak her name quite well, probably from sheer repitition.

Roarke looks up at Fredricks and nods slowly. He wipes a few tears away, "D-did Tony make it away okay?" It's quite obvious that he did since he's made it back to the ground, but Roarke's not exactly thinking much right now.

Carey also turns his focus to Roarke, watching the man gravely. He follows Fredricks and Kappedal to near his bed, though he keeps out of the way of the working medics as they tend to the man.

A wince, at Roarke's condition. He smiles at Tavua. "Hi Tavua," Woods greets the native man, although he probably looks somewhat frightening in his mummy costume. "Think she's busy," Woods murmurs. Elly warbles softly, curious at this Roarke thing. For now, she rests peacefully on Kappedal's shoulders, periodically tending to a curl. Woods looks sympathetically at the pilot. "Wonder what happened up there," He admits quietly, before going silent.

Fredricks nods to Roarke, "Yes, Tony's fine, you need to relax." He nods to Kappedal and gets a styrette, dosing Roarke with morphiene, "you've had extensive surgery, and you need to relax now, alright."

Kappedal reaches up and checks Roarke's IV while Fredricks doses him with morphine, then does a standard pulse check. "He's a little thready," he murmurs to Fredricks. "But not in danger."

Roarke lays back on the cot and runs a hand through his hair, "Da fuck happened up der? His Boston accent is kicked in at full swing. He glances around and spots the man with the collar, "Sorry, fatha."

Carey snorts at Roarke's apology. "I'm from the South side, son. I heard worse," he says. His own Boston accent has been softened over the years, but it's still very much present. He offers the man a faint smile. "So what happened to you?"

Fredricks nods to Kappedal, "Excellent." He looks to Roarke, "I don't know, I do know you need to relax and get some rest so you can heal."

"Yeah, a few pilots came in," Woods comments quietly. "Although, I was asleep for the last few I think, not sure." He just smiles weakly. He goes quiet then, watching Elly groom Kappedal, and even peer at the man. Hmmmm.

There are wounded everywhere today, with medical in full swing around quite a few cots. Kappedal is with Fredricks over by Roarke, who's just coughed up some blood. Running through the other vital checks like a good medic, he lets Fredricks handle the talking. Step back. The bird on his shoulder's still separating his loose curls.

Roarke nods to Fredricks, "Yeah, I got ya." He slows down his breaths and tries to put together what happened in his own mind. "I…I think that I got hit in the…in the chest with AA fire. How da fuck am I still alive?" He looks over to Kappedal, "Hey, can I get some water?"

Carey offers to Kappedal, "I can get it for him, Corpsman." The medics appear to have their hands full at the moment. "Just point me in the right direction."

Fredricks nods to Roarke, "Wasn't easy, you nearly weren't alive, but you're going to pull through, so just relax, and try to get some rest." He rises from Roarks side to let him sort things out for himself.

Annabelle was dozing on her cot, the curtain pulled back because she doesn't like feeling fenced in. She awakens with a barely-audible gasp, sitting up a little on her cot. The quick motion elicits a wince, and she blinks around, taking a moment to orient herself.

Kappedal looks about to protest at Carey, but then reconsiders. "It's right over there. There's pitchers, and the cups are up on that crate there." His finger points out the area to the priest. "Thank you."

Woods watches quietly. Woods is a good patient! Although, looking from the bandage - he's approximately half the man he was. Seems to be in good spirits and the medical staff's work has gone well. Elly is still contently fussing with Kappedal's hair, before watching him point. Thank you. Huh. That word seems interesting. He tilts his head, noticing Annabell after a moment. "Hiya."

Roarke just lays back and just tries to get out of the spotlight that coughing up blood has put him in. He scratches his head and waits for a drink of water…probably cause of all the blood, eh?

Carey nods his own thanks to Kappedal, for the directions, and strides off to fetch some water. The task doesn't take him that long, and he delivers it back to Roarke in short order. "Down it slow, son," he cautions Roarke, bending down to help him sip it, should Roarke require that.

Fredricks moves off, making his rounds to Annabelle. "Ah, Ms. Clark." He says to her, settling down to look at her wound, "How are you feeling?" He asks, smiling pleasently, if he happens to look dog tired. the Anglican woman is up, the Catholic Priest is getting water, the Jewish Medic is working away, this is going to be interesting.

Annabelle grips her arm lightly, waiting for the pain to subside and her breathing to return to normal. It takes her a moment to process Woods' greeting. "Vince. Are you all right?" Her brow creases in concern. She nods to Fredricks, "I'm all right, aye. Just… hurts a bit. No worries."

Kappedal returns to his post by Woods, leaning down a bit to coax Elly off his shoulder and back to her human owner/owned. "Hi ma'am," he says to Annabelle, looking up from under his brows. "Tavua was looking for you."

And the lapsed pretty sure he's an Anglican in bed! Somewhere there's a bar joke. Woods looks around, "Glad you're both alright though. Today's been nothing short of crazy. I feel bad… gotta work on my bullet dodging," He smiles weakly. Elly is still merrily sitting on Kappedal's shoulder. Now she brushes a feathery cheek against his face. Daw! Hey! Tickly. A questioning warble and Elly eventually walks off, onto Woods. "Yeah, I'm well enough I think. Kind of tired, not sure why- but Doc, Ben and everyone've been pretty nice about it all. Thanks." A smile as the bird returns.

Roarke takes a sip from the offered cup, "Thanks father." His Boston accent is more tempered now that he's not frantic.

Fredricks nods to Annabelle, "Yes, Woods will be fine. He just needs to rest and get his head screwed on straight." He smiles. "We're doing well enough. There's been a lot of action recently, and have a number of new residents, but they'll mostly be out of here soon."

Carey sits next to Roarke's bed as the man drinks. "You're quite welcome, son. Father Francis Carey's my Christian name. You sound like you're from my neck of the woods." He leaves the others to their rounds for the moment.

Roarke nods to Carey, "I'm Jamie Roarke." He tilts his head, "Yeah…usually people can't tell unless I'm hurt or I'm angry, heh." He smirks and takes another sip from it.

Annabelle replies to Woods with sincere worry, "I'm glad you're all right." Think of poor Elly! Kappedal gets a distracted nod. "Thank you, Ben." She nods to Fredricks, "Seem to have your hands full, aye." She lets out a breath, running her good hand through her hair. "I'm sure there's something about I can do to make myself useful."

Kappedal is looking surreptitiously between Annabelle and Carey, assessing as though he expected there to be some visible physical difference between an Anglican and a Catholic. Not seeing any, his expression seems to shrug and he settles back on his stool, looking down at Woods' wrapped head. "How's the pain, Vince?"

Fredricks nods, "If you're feeling up to it." He says, "I think moving about would be good for you." Have a round table discussion of religion with Carey and Kappedal for Fredricks amusement! Fredricks smiles and helps Annabelle, "The Navy sent out a Chaplain. I'm sure he'd be interested to hear there's a Missionary survivor.

Woods smiles back, "Thanks. But I was more worried if I'd messed up and someone'd gotten hurt because I'm lousy at ducking." Elly seems pleased enough and hops onto Woods' cot to inspect what is going on about. "That's three people from Boston and not one cream pie in sight. I'm disappointed," Woods jokes lightly. "If you want, I had a pomegranate for Elly I'd gotten outside. Seems to be her favorite." Feed a bird! That's fun right? He looks to Kappedal, "I'm kind of sore. Worse than the time I got tossed out the window, but I'm alright mostly." Translation: Woods lost a fight with bullets and boy does that smart, but it's not so bad really.

Roarke hears about religion and discussions and decides that this is not the place to be. He just stretched and decides to lay back and fall asleep.

"It's good to hear the sound of Boston in a place so far from home, Jamie," Carey says. He leaves Roarke be to sleep, standing and striding away from his cot. He searches for Fredricks again, which takes him in Annabelle's general direction as well.

Annabelle nods once to the doctor. "I don't wish to layabout all day." No more dreams. She gingerly slips her arm back into the sling that was hanging loosely around her neck, and gets up. She looks up in surprise at the mention of a chaplain. "Really?" And there he is. And a Catholic. "G'day, Father."

Fredricks nods to Annabelle and moves back as the Father approaches. He nods to the man, "this is Ms. Annabelle Clark. She was part of a missionary outreach. The Japanese attacked her group." He looks to Annabelle, "Father Francis, Carey, US Navy Chaplain corps." why is he making the introductions?

"Tossed out the window?" Kappedal asks with a little grin. Half expecting that to be a joke. Kind of. Maybe. His eyes flicker once to Annabelle and Carey, then back to Vince.

Woods nods, "I gave a really tall girl flowers. She thought it was cute. Then dropped me. Kind of. I had to get momentum, but you know…" Woods blushes, looking embarrassed. Guess she didn't like short guys! He shrugs, smiling and pulling a pomegranate from his pack with a good hand. He breaks off a part and gives it to Elly, who grasps it with a talon and peels away with her beak. Nom! Woods smiles and shrugs. He goes quiet, listening to the introductions briefly.

Carey double-takes at Annabelle. Clearly not having expected to see a civilian woman in these parts. But he manages to avoid boggling and inclines his head to her respectfully. "Mrs. Clark. You've a courageous faith to minister in this corner of the world. I'd have thought the missionaries would've gone from these islands." He gives her a look-over but it's fairly clear from the way she's introduced she's no nun. He tries not to look too disappointed.

Kappedal stares at Woods for a second. Eh? "You sure you didn't hit your head too hard on that bullet?"

Slayback sits up in his cot as he hears conversation. So far he's been rather quiet but he chimes in, "Hey there, Annabelle!" He grins at her and waves.

Fredricks looks over to Slayback, heading over, "Slayback, how're you feeling?" He sits down with his clipboard in hand.

Annabelle nods in return to the priest. "Thank you, but I daresay many of the missions would find it hard to leave their flock." What's a war when you've already braved malaria, snakes and headhunters? She shakes her head slightly. "Good to meet you, Father. You're in the navy, he said? Not the marines?" Anna looks over at Slayback's greeting, nodding in return. "G'day. I do believe I asked that it be Ms. Annabelle or Mrs. Clark, aye, mate?" She reminds him, not unkindly. "How are you?"

Woods shakes his head, "No. Although, to be fair, the week before she tossed a guy out the door." Woods shrugs and smiles. "I'll find someone who won't drop kick me someday." Elly is nomming happily on fruit, making contented warbles and whistles. Aw, yeah, fruit! Now /that/ is the stuff. Woods blinks, as Slayback wakes up. "Hey!" He offers a smile. And time to look back to Kappedal. "Want to give Elly some fruit?"

"I sure hope so," Kappedal replies to Woods, emphatically. About women who won't drop kick him. As to the fruit he reaches over to take a piece, offering it carefully to the bird. Don't bite, don't bite. His head turns a little as Slayback wakes up on his other side.

"The Marine Corps is a part of our great Navy technically speaking, Mrs. Clark," Carey replies. "And our corps is stretched thin with the war on. I go where I'm sent, and at the moment both the good Lord and the Navy call me here. Our medics are Navy boys as well." A thumb is gestured in Kappedal's direction. His eyes follow Fredricks to Slayback's bed.

Slayback nods to Annabelle, "Yeah, you did. I've decided, after much deliberation, that I don't like the sound of that name." He looks at Fredricks, "I'm feeling alright."

Fredricks nods to Slayback, "Okay, well, I'm going to need to look at your hand to check out the finger you lost, and determine if you're going home or not." He moves the papers on his clipboard around to get a fresh form.

Woods jawdrops at Slayback's comment. "I'm not the oldest or wisest, but it seems rude to say that to a lady," He tilts his head. So sayeth window boy. He nods and smiles at Kappedal. Elly has just finished nomming the last bit of fruit and pauses. ANOTHER? Shweet. These pink hairless dudes are pretty awesome. A talon and beaktip reach for it. She's actually remarkably dextrous with 'em. Parrots can bust locks and bars after all. "Maybe I'll teach her to say thank you or something. If I'm out on patrol, you can talk to her," Woods is a friendly git.

"Oh, I hadn't known that," Anna says to Carey, glancing over at Ben when he's mentioned. She frowns a touch at Slayback, unsure how to respond to that so she elects to say nothing and just focus her attention on the priest. "Well, 'tis good that you're here, however you came to be." She sits down on the edge of the cot to put her borrowed boots on, deciding that she probably shouldn't be wandering around the aid station barefoot. It's an awkward task to do one-handed.

Kappedal kind of stares at Slayback as well, at his treatment of Annabelle. He clears his throat uncomfortably, glancing at the woman in question and then back at Woods. Goyim are weird. "I'll talk to her, sure." His hand's still up, offering fruit to the bird. "I promise she'll be a polite bird."

Carey gives Slayback a hard look. Speaking to a lady that way. He says nothing on it for the moment. He just regards the man sternly. He clears his throat, continuing to converse with Annabelle. "Yes, I imagine the men'll be in need of spiritual comfort in a place like this." He eyes Annabelle and her boots. "Do you need some help with those, Ma'am?" he offers. His eyes narrow at her injured arm. He doesn't ask but, again, it's /looked/ at.

Woods fidgets for a second. "Thanks. I just hope she doesn't hear the captain or any drills," Woods wrinkles his nose. Elly reaches for the fruit, nimbly grabbing it with a talon, catching it and grasping, peeling with her beak. It's actually fairly impressive given the tools a parrot has to work with. But birds can be clever! "You have any pets at home?" He offers quietly, perhaps still uneasy about the lady subject.

Kappedal shakes his head at Woods. "There isn't much room in an apartment in the city." He holds the fruit for Elly until she's grabbed it, watching this process with a little fascination. It's kind of cool. He can hear Carey fussing over Annabelle but doesn't turn to look. Nobody wants too much attention.

Kappedal adds, "Did you? In california?"

"Aye, sure they will," Annabelle agrees with Carey. And they've come to the right place, clearly! After fumbling with the boots for a moment, she gives a grateful nod to his offer. "That's very kind of you, Father. Thanks." Under his scrutiny, she shifts a bit awkwardly. In truth the young missionary looks quite a mess, her hair mussed and damp, her borrowed fatigues a bit dirty and missing one arm to expose the bandages more easily. She doesn't answer the unasked question immediately, however.

Carey kneels down to aid Anna with her boots, not interrogating her immediately. The laces occupy him. "My previous assignment was aboard a hospital ship. Was difficult enough for the boys there. America's new to the war, lots of our boys are fresh from training."

Fredricks writes a little and sets the clipboard in his lap, reaching for slaybacks hand, Evil eyes notwithstanding. "Okay, let me see your hand."

It's an intricate process. Parrots have such strong beaks to deal with the fruit and seeds. Elly happily makes a chirp or two as she makes the fruit disappear! Magic! Talon for holding, beak for nom'ing. Woods glances over briefly, before looking back. He smiles at Ben. "I had a pet frog. He was kind of neat. Fat and green," Woods laughs softly. "But I had to find him a new home before he left. Mom wouldn't abide having him in the house." His nose wrinkles. "I'm not very exciting," Woods considers with a grin. "Shells and birds and wandering around." But he seems happy enough. "How about you?"

Slayback pose looks down at his leg and over to Woods, "I think I shouldn't've made fun of you for being bedridden the other day." He smirks at the kid and shakes his head, "How're you feeling?"

Annabelle nods to Carey. "Well, they seem to be making a good account of themselves." There's an uncomfortable pause before she adds, "They saved me, anyway." But boots are a much safer topic, so she almost immediately follows up with, "The laces are such a blasted trouble I usually just tuck them in." They're too big anyway so it doesn't make much difference. "But thank you."

Kappedal shrugs a shoulder at Woods, breaking eye contact. "Not very, I guess," he replies, vaguely. His attention's nabbed by Fredricks coming over to see to Slayback, and he keeps an eye out in case he's needed.

Fredricks reaches up, snapping his fingers in Slaybacks face, "Slaaaaybaaack. Focus." He says as he takes the mans hand to unwrap the dressing and have a look, "I need your cooperation to determine if I have to send you home or not."

"In a fight, I'd always bet on American Marines," Carey says with a hint of a smile. Just a hint of one. He finishes with the boots, straightening up. "Might want to borrow your boots from a daintier grunt next time, Mrs. Clark," he observes simply.

Slayback glances at Fredricks, "Why would you need to send me back home? I'm missing a damn finger. Please don't send me back!" He grips Fredricks' collar with an almost inhumanly strong, kung-fu grip, pulling him closer, "Don't send me back…this is where I belong." He then realizes what he's been asked to do and he holds up his injured hand, after he lets him go, of course.

A few blinks at Slayback. "Huh? No it's fine," Woods smiles over. "I'm alright, but the Doc needs to speak to you," He bobs his head, looking concerned. "I think if you're missing any bits you have to go home. Dunno the exact rule. Given my luck so far, I'll either be here or they'll scrape me off the side of a tree." Woods blushes, "I'm sorry… I found her uniform. I tried to get small ones, but it's hard." He admits quietly. A nod at Kappedal. He might notice his sleeve is being tugged. It's a PARROT ATTACK! … PARROT ATTACK! PARROT ATTACK! Metal music montage with parrot! Actually, Elly is just neatly climbing up his sleeve.

Annabelle looks down at the boots and gives a slight shrug to the preacher. "Not a great many to choose from, Father. I'm grateful to have at least this much. You did just fine, Vince," she assures Woods. The parrot attack earns him a tiny smile, which quickly fades into a shocked expression as Slayback grabs the doctor.

Kappedal is tugged. By a bird. Eeee. He eyes Elly but keeps his arm still as the bird creeps up. Duuuuh nuh. Duuuuuuuuh nuh. Duhnuhduhnuhduhnuh… He smiles a bit at Annabelle, blue eyes a little apologetic as well as he overhears the uniform issue, then he blinks a bit at Slayback. "Doc, you okay?"

"It was kind of you to offer what you had, Private," Carey says to Woods, nodding a little to him. A chaplain-approved gesture of charity. "Are there any nurses assigned here permanently yet? Perhaps they might have something on hand they can spare…" He trails, the action with Slayback catching his attention. He sighs heavily.

Fredricks pulls back from Slayback, sitting back down. He takes a moment of absolute stillness. then he tilts his head to the side slowly, till some vertebrae in his neck pop, and he sighs, squaring his shoulders, he begins to work on unwrapping Slaybacks injured hand, "Fine." He says cooly to Kappedal. "Slayback." He says with an aloof calm, "If you had been, oh, playing with your knife as you tend to do, slipped and sliced your finger off right outside, I could have made the attempt to reattach it. Not high hopes for it, but I could have tried. your finger wasn't cut, it was blasted off by a Japanese round. The bones in your finger resemble a fine, white, chalky, powder. It was then dropped to the ground in the middle of a firefight, then put in a tin for safekeeping. Unfortunately the man carrying that tin was, as I'm told washed downstream in a river teeming with bacteria while MORE Japanese were trying to kill him. If you want your finger, we can dry it and put it on a keychain for you, which is about the best use you can make of it. But that's only part of the problem. your hand took the rest of the force. There's bone damage, nerve damage, vascular damage, and you are going to be in for a long time healing. You need to relearn how to use your hand. You're not going to shoot your BAR with your Teeth, no matter how badass you think you are." He starts inspecting the hand and it's damage, fresh stitches in raw flesh, "Now, I can,send you home, and I damn well -WILL- send you home if your healing doesn't go perfectly. If you lose any feeling or response in your other fingers from that Nerve Damage, you're not going to be able to effectively use a weapon, which is going to get you, and your squadmates killed. I don't care where you think you need to be. If you become a liability, I'll ship you Stateside to polish and crate up weapons you will never use again, so they can be shipped to men who CAN use them." He looks at Slayback, "Am I being clear? Is there any of this you don't understand?"

Annabelle nods to Carey. "There's one I've seen, but we're not really close in size." Mildred short. Anna tall. She shakes her head. "'Tis not a great hardship, really. When I've some time, I'll fix up the clothes at least to fit better."

Woods jawdrops as the doctor is grabbed. Elly even pauses in her journey up Kappedal's sleeve, looking comical as she hangs there. Woods' eyes are wide. He doesn't even breathe a moment. And then Fredricks reacts and he goes quiet. Elly finishes clambering up but seems still, head craning forward as if cautious. That's a bit awkward. Woods just is frozen.

Slayback tilts his head at the doctor…and makes the Herculean effort to not snap his little, civilian neck out of sheer principle. He takes a deep breath and nods, "Yeah, I got it."

Fredricks nods, curtly, "Good. Now." He starts redressing Slaybacks hand, "This doesn't seem to have any signs of early infection, so it's looking alright this far. In a while, after it's healed some, we'll see how your remaining fingers are doing, and how much use of your hand you can maintain." He finishes rewrapping it, and sets it on Slaybacks stomach, rising, "Just one last thing." He pauses, looking down at the injured Marine, "The only reason I haven't signed off on shipping you out -already- is I think you could still be useful. But that's my opinion, dispite your already having put a knife to my throat, so don't ever fucking grab me again."

Kappedal looks rather impressed with Fredricks, rather than awkward. He reaches up and pats Elly's head. Poor birdie.

Carey watches the interplay between the doctor and Slayback with a stern but rather sad expression. He shakes his head. "This is what I'd feared. Battle's clearly taking a hard toll on the minds of the men," he says to Annabelle in a low tone, not meant to carry beyond the two of them.

Woods is in awe too, small face struck with awe and thunder. Elly settles a bit as she's patted. Eyes close a little. Pattings are good. Woods shifts a bit in place. A glance to Kappedal, then back to being awestruck.

Annabelle gives a quiet nod to Carey. "Hard toll on everyone," she says with a little sigh. "Father, might I ask a favor?" she says, rising to her feet once more now that the boots are situated.

Carey continues to eye Fredricks, as if he wants to approach the man. But he turns back to Annabelle at her words. Whatever he has to say to the doctor can wait, apparently. "Certainly, Mrs. Clark."

Fredricks moves away, not really waiting for a response, as he never asked a question in the end there, and he heads to the others in the Station. Snap! Doc's back. He approaches Kappedal and Woods, "How's the headwound, Woods?" He asks kindly.

Kappedal is still petting Elly as Fredricks comes over, keeping the animal soothed during the tension in the room. He pushes the stool back with his foot so Fredricks can get past him to Woods, his eyes down in thought.

Annabelle hesitates after asking that, having second thoughts. But then she overcomes them. "Would you mind terribly helping me to pen a letter to the bishop? I think he ought to know… about the mission." Well, moreso about the dead missionaries but it hopefully goes without saying. And this way she doesn't have to actually say it. She shakes her head slightly. "It can wait, surely, but I'd… appreciate the help."

Woods smiles, "Headwound-y. The back of my head hurts a little here or there, it's like when you get eyestrain from reading with the lights off, but I'm fine really. Not like they had many marbles to shoot in there anyway," He comments wryly. Elly is clicking her beak, making soft chattering noises at Kappedal. She is pleased with this petting. "Hello. Hello." She repeats. It's the /only/ phrase she knows but darnit, it's a happy one.

Carey nods firmly to Anna's request, expression somber, but he seems grateful for the opportunity to help. "Of course, Mrs. Clark. I'd be derelict in my duties to the Lord Himself if I did any less. I do need a word with your Doctor Fredricks, but I'll attend to it as soon as my duties allow."

Fredricks nods to Woods, "Well, don't hesitate to just close your eyes if you feel it'll help. It might be a result of eyestrain, and mild concussion. Your brain sloshed around in your skull and is bruised, but you'll recover from that with rest." He nods, smiling.

"Hello," Kappedal repeats back to Elly, in the same cadence. Talking to the bird might improve /his/ strange accent. He keeps an eye on Fredricks and Woods, listening. Have to know what's up with the patients.

Woods smiles at that. "Sure thing." Although the explanation of the headwound makes Woods' eyebrows furrow. "Oh, heck, it bounces." He rubs his head ruefully. Stupid squishy bouncy brain. "That's good though. I feel bad being a layabout," He seems a bit happier to know he won't be down and out too long. Though, if he keeps getting Swiss Cheese'd… Elly repeats, "Hello." Her voice is surprisingly un-…squawky? and a bit lower. If parrots could smile, one supposes she would. Woods speaks again after a moment, "Appreciate it though."

Annabelle nods readily to Carey, relieved by his acceptance. "Of course, Father. Thank you." Her own expression somber, she lets the priest go about his business, watching the goings-on for a moment to see how she might make herself useful.

Carey inclines his head to Annabelle again and then strides toward Fredricks. As the man isn't being physically molested at the moment, this seems an opportune time. "I won't keep you from your rounds Doctor but, when you've a moment, I need a bit of your time. Won't take long, my word to God." Said with a mild bit of humor.

Fredricks chuckles to Woods, "Don't worry, concussions happen all the time and the same treatment applies for all of them. Stay in bed, don't get up, and try to let your head just remain still." He turns to Kappedal, "Looks fine, but keep on Monitor.." He shifts his eyes to Annabelle and Carey, "Strike that, continue normal rotation." He nods to Kappedal and nods to Elly, "Hello." He then moves past the two of them, stepping to Carey and Annabelle. To Carey, "Certainly, one moment." He then looks to Annabelle, "Ms. Clark, Could I ask you to Monitor Woods, keep him under observation for a Concussion, if his status changes, Nausea, blurred vision, seisure, raise the alarm?" He checks to see if she has any questions or such and looks to Carey, "Sorry, yes?"

"Ma'am?" Kappedal stops his one-word conversation with an animal to look over at Annabelle. He's about to say more, but then Fredricks somehow reads his mind. Crazy. He falls silent and smiles at Woods.

Annabelle gives a nod of acknowledgement to the doctor. "Aye, Doctor, no worries." She seems mildly surprised but also pleased to be given a task. Then she turns to Ben, not realizing why he stopped talking. "Aye, Ben?" she asks.

Carey edges a little away from Woods and Annabelle for his query to Fredricks. "You boys've seen some action recently, I see. Doctor, one of my duties - a larger part than I'd like it to be these days - is seeing the boys through their last hours. Are there any men you think will be in need of the last rites tonight?"

"Sure thing, Doc," Woods smiles back at Fredricks and Kappedal. Elly goes quiet too, after a moment. Wait. CURLY HAIR. The parrot resumes exploring and discovering the intricaies of Kappedal's hair. Woods pauses. Being monitored huh. He looks to his hand, unsure about that so much. "Thanks again," Ben gets a little grin. "I feel kind of bad, I must be boring to watch. Learn to juggle maybe…"

Kappedal is preened again. One day after the war he'll tell his grandkids about how he got his hurr did every day by a parrot. He smiles at Annabelle and shakes his head. "Oh…uh. The extra IV tubing, for Woods. I think I forgot to show you that crate." He stands up from the stool.

Everyone is inside the aid station tent. Fredricks and Carey are talking. Woods and Kappedal are talking, with Woods lying in a cot and Kap on a stool next to him with a parrot nibbling at his hair. Anna is looking at Kappedal, her arm in a sling and looking rather messy.

Fredricks moves to the side with the Priest, and listens. As it comes through what is being asked about, he nods, and pauses, thinking, "Last rites, right." He thinks a moment and shakes his head, "No one now. We've lost several, but no one's leaving us now. I will keep that in mind for the future, though, and may send for you, when needed." He nods, grimly, "I'm not certain.. We have lost boys, if you wanted to pray for them." He shrugs.

Stansfield stirs on his cot, the young pilot evidently awakening as the drugs wear off. One eye opens and then the other as he looks up at the ceiling. He groans a little, unwounded arm reaching to make sure he has all his body parts, putting a hand between his legs, breathing a sigh of relief, "Thank god."

"God grants that small mercy tonight, at least," Carey says. He does not look sorry that he can put off performing that particular rite for awhile. "I would like to know the names of the ones you've lost. I'll keep them in my prayers tonight. In the meantime, I can assist the…nurse?" A questioning look toward Annabelle, as to her status.

In fairness, parrots are pretty good hair dressers? Elly does pause to brush a feathery cheek against Kappedal. Woot. Woods rests on his cot, accepting of his fate and probably too weak to run away anyway. Fortunately, he hears none of the chat about last rites. Woods peers. "Hey," Stansfield is waking up! Although in his state, Woods pauses. "Hi." He doesn't seem to recall the fellow's name. But he's polite.

"Oh, sure," Anna says with an agreeable nod, following Ben over to wherever he might be leading. "You feeling better today?" she asks, looking him over.

Fredricks nods to Carey, "Of course, feel free. I'll get you those names. I'd like you to concentrate your care on.." He checks his clipboard, "The pilots mostly, but the nursing is communal as well, so, I'm sure you'll fit into the rhythm around here." He nods, moving to the back to get a few things.

Stansfield groans, reaching to rub his head, "I.. am never.. drinking again…" he murmurs, turning his head to look towards Woods. "Hey…" he mutters, looking sore and generally grumpy.

"Yes, ma'am," Kappedal replies, as he heads over to the crate in question and waits there for Annabelle. "Not up for a polka yet or anything, but I don't think that'll hold me back too much around here." He gives her a dimpled grin. With the tips of his fingers he pries off the heavy wooden lid, revealing the supplies she needs.

"Glad to hear it. Did you enjoy the celebration at Tavua's village?" Anna wonders idly. Peering down at the crate, she looks confused. "Was I supposed to do something with these? I must have not heard the doctor's instructions right." Her arm's still in a sling so she won't be doing any IVs herself any time soon.

"I'll do my best, Doctor," Carey ways to Fredricks. "I've still a bit to do to get settled in, but I'll be about." With that, he shuffles off, to attend to settling in.

Woods tilts his head at Stanfield. "Hiya." Woods' head is all kinds of bandaged and the Marine is preparing for his audition as the Mummy. "I don't think you were drinking. Some other pilots came here too," He offers. Elly happily lets out a parroty yawn and fluffs up, resting on Kappedal. Uh oh. Nap time may be looming.

"Just if you needed," Kappedal tells her. "The tubes they sent us here with get clogged easy. It's a real pain, you have to watch them. And if something happens with Woods' and nobody's here -" Which is unlikely, but yanno. " -you know, in case." He taps the crate with his foot. "And oh yes, I liked it a lot. I didn't think they'd be so friendly, I mean…Tavua doesn't talk a whole lot." He sounds a little embarassed.

Fredricks comes from the back with his clipboard and a bundle. the bundle is tossed lightly onto Annabelles bed as he passes and he moves to where Stan is waking up, "Hello there, how're you feeling?" He looks to Woods and smiles, "I think your bird's found a new perch."

"Oh!" Anna says as she realizes what he meant. She nods. "That makes sense, aye. Thanks for showing me." Occupied in the back, she doesn't notice whatever Fredricks tossed onto her cot. A slight smile about the party. "They're a good people. I'm glad you got to spend some time with them. Hopefully Tavua will have the chance to practice his English a bit more now with all you lads about."

Stansfield nods to Woods, "Feels like I did…" he grumbles, settling back in his cot, "I feel like crap…" he mutters, closing his eyes, grumbling.
It is then that another bird makes its arrival, perching on the windowsill above Stansfield, peering in. A red and cold… parrot? Male though! His little head swivels as he looks about the aid station's interior, letting out a little warble as he sidesteps down the windowsill slowly.

Kappedal considers this for a moment, as he absently pats the drowsy Elly. "Ma'am? Why would you teach them English? All the way out here. I mean, I understand with the war, but there wasn't any war before."

Fredricks nods to Stansfield, checking his dressings, and looks up, "Huh, another one." He looks to the pilot, "You attract flying things to you?"

Woods blushes, looking embarrassed at needing care apparently. Woods smiles up at Fredricks, "Yeah. I'm glad. So even if I'm not around, she'll talk." The second bird provokes a few blinks. "This place has gone to the birds." He looks to Stansfield, "We're mostly dinged up… guess that's the way the meatball bounces. Suppose bouncing from the heavens is worse," He considers. Elly warbles softly, sleepy parrot. The arrival of another causes her to blink a few times. Huh. Hello other parrot!

Annabelle is a bit perplexed by the question, sort of like asking why she breathes. "Well, 'tis difficult sometimes to communicate in their language, and each missionary coming in has to learn it over again. Easier if they speak English. Also they have no written language, so we have to teach them English so they can learn to read."

Stansfield grins, shrugging at Fredricks, "I dunno… maybe… they just curious?" he inquires, trying to stay comfortable.
The boy parrot tilts his head sideways, peering down at Elly, Why hello there! He leans forward, using his beak to support himself as he climbs down the wall, talons wrapped around whatever is hand as he wiggles his way down. He uses his beak the entire time, Beak-bite, step-step. Beak-bite, step-step. Before arriving on Woods's cot, waddling lazily across the soft mattress, heading for the edge closest to Kappedal and Elly.

Kappedal hasn't yet noticed that West Side Parrot Story is going on behind him. Elly's warbling gets her another absent scritch on the head. "They don't write?" Huh. "You mean like they tell stories so they remember things? I knew some people in-…" He catches himself before something comes out. "…back…in other places that did that. Did you learn any of their stories?"

Fredricks finishes with the bandages, and watches the Boy bird waddling over, "think he's gonna make a play for Elly?" He asks, Stan, smirking.

Annabelle nods. "Aye, stories and the like. I've heard a few, but…" She frowns thoughtfully. "None particularly come to mind just now. They lead quite a simple life, really." She, too, is oblivious to the parrot extravaganza.

Woods eeps. Hey another bird. He blinks a few times. The climbing provokes a soft laugh. He grins and blinks a few more times as it waddles across the mattress. Elly seems curious about the newcomer, but she also has a primo spot for scritchings. It's a tough call. She does greet the fellow, peering back and bobbing her head in greeting. Parrot-bonanza. Woods seems cheered and amused, watching things. "Hah… they're precious."

"Maybe they're blessed with that," Kappedal muses, quietly. "Though no more, I suppose." Scritch, scritch. Elly's chirping and bobbling finally makes his head turn, glancing behind him. "Hey, look." he points Annabelle at the other bird approaching.

Stansfield laughs, watching the two parrots courting. "I think he is…" he muses.
The boy parrot peers up at Elly, squaaaawking quietly as he extends his wings, flapping, showing off his wonderful plummage for a moment, the bright colorses! He bobs his head in return, sidestepping left a few steps, and then waddling right, spinning in place, his long tail brushing against Woods as he performs some sort of parrot dancing ritual.

Fredricks nods, "Oh, yeah, that's definately a mating dance. He must like Elly. Or Maybe Ms. Clark." Pause, "Or maybe Ben, it's kind of hard to tell."

Annabelle shakes her head. "Simplicity is a blessing, but without God's grace of what value is it?" It's clearly stated as a rhetorical question, and followed up with a sad smile. "That's why the mission is here." She mentally corrects to the past tense, her face falling a bit as she does so. She turns and looks at the other bird. "Huh, another one."

"I guess…" Kappedal answers pensively. That she's talking different religion than him is secondary to the moment. "But God made them too, didn't He? If He made them and their way, it must have value, right?" It sounds like an honest question to the woman. He then grins at the parrots, looking over at Woods. "Bet you didn't think you might be a grandfather so young, huh?"

Woods smiles, as the parrot dances near him. Feathers! He doesn't interrupt, simply watching. He's an easy to cheer fellow, so his face is rather bright despite- his day. He chuckles softly, "Didn't think so no. But she is her own bird." Elly pauses. She knows that dance. Well then! A little song and she bobs and sways to and fro in place a little, brushing Kappedal's cheek. She is curious about the male, although parrots do not make such decisions lightly it seems. But there's interest! Hello there! Hello!

"I shouldn't have said it that way," Anna admits, when he puts it like that. Though she seems to have a hard time rephrasing it. "I just meant that without God, their ways will be lost to eternity. Would be a shame, that." She watches the birds with idle distraction.

Fredricks tilts his head, "Reminds me of a guy I knew back in school, football team, showing off for the girls." He nods, "Bout right, yeah."

The blue and red boy parrot continues his little dance, leaning back and forth, bobbing his head, bending down and wiggling his tail in the air before turning in circles and then waddling in lazy little figure-eight formations. He tires after a few repetitions, using his beak to bite-climb up Wood's leg, side-stepping his way up the marine before settling on his chest, nesting.

Kappedal gives Annabella a curious look, not quite understanding her. "Yes, ma'am. But if they're learning to be anglican, aren't they…losing their old way?" He's not being contrary, he just sounds confused at her logic. Which is eclipsed by more idle curiosity about something else. "What did they believe about God before they were anglican?" He's watching the birds as they talk. Oh, Elly. You tart.

Woods eeps as he's climbed upon. His eyes go wide. More birds! Is Alfred Hitchcock paying attention? He doesn't seem too worried about the boy bird, not after all that waggling, tail turning and waddling. Figure eights? Cute. He smiles. "He's a showy fellow, for sure. Very brave," He considers, "To just come in here." Parrots call and flock to one another for protection! Not just woogy snuggles! Elly does stop, to tuck in a stray curl of Kappedal's before hopping to investigate the fellow in her territory. Hophop. "Hello!" She repeats. Then a warble. Oh dear. Does he even speak english? Woods blinks.

Fredricks watches the Parrotty flirting and smirks, "Uh oh, here we go, Romance amongst the feathers."

Annabelle seems a bit confused by Kappedal's question for a moment, then understands. "Oh, well, 'tis not just their religion that defines them, aye? Their language, their customs, their stories, - they don't lose all that by converting. They didn't believe anything about God before. They were pagans."

Boy Parrot hops sideways a bit as Elly joins him atop of Woods, poor marine, the stage for this little avian drama. He extends his neck, ruffling his feathers and squawking a bit, working his beak curiously as he regards the girly bird, flapping his wings a bit, flapflap, keeping his distance, a tad shy perhaps?

Fredricks winces, "OH I hope they don't get.. you know, frisky right there, that'll be quite awkward for Woods."

"…oh. Like idols?" Kappedal's stopped by that revelation, and it takes him a while to turn it over in his head. Uncomfortably. "I…guess being anglican isn't too hard then. I mean. You worship God and Yeshua, right?" That's uncomfortable to say too. Worshipping two gods, yikes. And he's lost Elly. Though certainly he appreciates the farewell grooming.

Woods oofs a bit. Woods does have squishy spots on his stomach. He's in damned good shape, but doesn't seem to be the sort to have rippling muscles. He tries not to giggle at the parrots. Cute. He does let them talk, seeming cheery about it all. Even if he's used as a trampoline. Elly's not pressing the point either. She is a bit wary. This is HER territory and HER pack of humans. Or at least, she likes to think so. The religious discussion seems lost on him. "I hope even if she likes him, they stay around."

Boy parrot wiggles a bit as he sidesteps infront of Elly, his tailfeathers tickling Woods's nose in turn, hee! He seems focused on Elly as he slooooowly waddles forward, using the soft frontpart of his beak to gently rub Elly's chest, no boobs there afterall! It's a cute little parrot-peck of sorts.

Fredricks blinks, watching, "Should we be seeing this? I mean, is it descent, I can't tell."

Annabelle nods to Kappedal. "Idols, magic, and the like." She, too, looks a bit uncomfortable by the talk of pagans. Ben gets a puzzled, look, though, at his question. "We only worship God. Jesus - that's who you call Yeshua, aye? - he's not a separate God."

Woods blinks. Oh dear. Tickles. Woods' face twists. Aw. "Um, that's utterly adorable, but this -" His eyes go wide. Is this decent? Silly parrots. Awww. Elly seems surprised at the gesture. And their audience. Ahem! Woods seems unsure if he should see about setting them inside. Elly does warble lightly to the other bird, perhaps thanking or curious again. He looks to Fredricks. "Um, what do you suggest? I have no idea about parrots."

"I don't know," Kappedal answers Annabelle, as to whether Yeshua equals Jesus. But he motions towards her cross. "But you wear that to remind you of 'Jesus', you said. I heard a priest say a prayer about…that…once. If it was God, wouldn't you say God?"

Boy bird becomes a little bolder as he slowly tiptoes up next to Elly, warbling happily as he uses the tip of his beak to begin preening Elly, lightly ruffling her feathers as he tries to … comb her? Oh boy.
Stansfield just laughs, shaking his head as he watches the parrots.

Fredricks shakes his head, "Oh no, I'm not going to get involved with a young romance." He smirks, "and we don't have a hutch or anything for parrots to live in. I'm not going there." He sees the parrots, "Oh boy, he's making his move now."

Woods blinks. He laughs softly at Fredricks. Then his eyes go wide. This is serious. "H-hey you two, not in here…" He'll gently pat the birds, alternately with his good hand. "Alright?" He doesn't shoo them off, but this isn't Discovery channel.

Thankfully, someone wakes up in pain and Anna goes to tend to him. Kappedal's left looking a bit out of sorts, expression darkened by some wrinkles between his drawn brows. He scratches a hand through the side of his Elly-combed hair and slides the other hand in his pocket turning around to step closer to the other men. In time to see bird-grooming. Daww.

Fredricks steps to the side, and leans to Kappedal, "How'd it go?"

"Hmm?" Kappedal's blue eyes lift from the birds. Or from his feet, hard to tell what he was looking at. "How did what go?"

Fredricks shrugs, "Oh well, you just seemed curious about Ms. Clarks faith." he shrugs again, straightening, "Say, you think this is going to get any more embarassing for Woods, I mean they are on him right now."

Stansfield slowly dozes off after watching the birds, so happy they seem to be.
Boy bird seems to agree as he settles in next to Ellys, warbling happily.

Woods just pets the birds gently. Although it looks like Woods is tired. Being shot does tend to lengthen one's day. He yawns and settles in on his cot. "Alright… just don't do anything the nurses and medics wouldn't approve of," He smiles to the two. His eyelids are drooping.

Ellys and the new bird seem to be happy together, like.. little.. love.. birds. They settle down as Woods relaxes, each bird getting nice and cuddly with the other as they settle down all birdy-like, tuckiking their heads beneath their wings and snoozing.

Kappedal shrugs at Fredricks. He doesn't quite seem to know what to say about Anna's faith, but he looks at the birds and grins. "If he can sleep through it, it can't be bothering him too much. They look happy, don't they?"

Fredricks nods, "Yes, they do, okay now we're going to need to get some small eggs from somewhere and spread them over Woods' chest, like, oh, twenty eggs. Maybe even full size eggs, that might be funnier, and place them while he's asleep."

Woods is an excellent resting spot. Woods doesn't seem to move a whole lot when he sleeps and he eventually can't keep his eyes open. "Night…" He manages, before dozing at last, sleep overtaking him.

Kappedal grins at the notion of strewing poor Woods with eggs. "I think he'd have a coronary. Then you'd have a much bigger problem on your hands." The aid station's started to quiet a little bit, and so the teenager starts moving around, picking up discarded pieces of gross bloody cloth and empty cups and bottles and tubing and heaven knows what else.

Fredricks chuckles, nodding, "Perhaps." He agrees, then moves, helping with the cleanup. "Long day." He says, rubbing his eyes.

Fredricks smiles, "No, thanks, I've been eating when I had a minute, not hungry at the moment. first thing the Japs shot was a regular schedule."

"Okay." Kappedal leans down to snag up someone's notebook that had fallen off them as they fell asleep, shutting it and setting it down on the foot of their cot. Spying the pencil having rolled up underneath, he gets down all the way to his stomach on the dirty floor, crawling halfway up under the guy's cot to reach for it. Hrrrrrrg.

Fredricks tosses his clipboard on a table, and pauses, looking around, "Holy crap, it's quiet." He whispers.

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