(1938-06-01) Hospital Supplies
Details for Hospital Supplies
Summary: Randy visits Hunter in St. Mungo's over a Hogsmeade weekend. She brings him rum to make up for the lack of it in the medical supplies. They catch up. Randy tries to find out about Hunter's proclivities. Hunter tries to give some brotherly advice after learning a few things he didn't know about his sister and her fears.
Date: Sat Jun 01, 1938
Location: St Mungo's

If there was any threat to a Macmillans's future brood, you better believe Mama is there, ensuring that the Healers are doing /EVERYTHING THEY CAN/ to right the wrong in the world. Just outside of the ward, Mama Macmillan is speaking in an agitated stage whisper to a Healer. "What do you /mean/ he might not be able to?-It's either a yes or a no. Don't toy with the future of this family!" Okay maybe this is only 1 sheet to the wind. Randy rushes from the elevator, breezes past Mama who just blinks at her and then goes back to her debate, and into the ward to land her hands on her knees and breathe. As she catches her breath, she lifts her had only to look around at the beds and stuff or whatever she may find.

The majority of the ward is for short-term spell damage and curse tending. Much like the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Beyond lie the rooms for longer term patients and it's within those that Hunter rests. He's been fairly pissed off at being restrained for so long (not that he can walk of his own accord anyway right now) and has been kept fairly sedated. Normally, he might find enjoyment in free drugs being given with such wild abandon, but today… that is not so much the case. He knows his grandmother is out there being a pest and it makes him feel even more out of sorts. He is an adult, not a child to be coddled! Well… some coddling might be nice. You know, the real thing. He's just coming awake from a nap now, muttering to himself as he does.

Randy straightens up only enough to be kind of slunched over, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her cardigan as she walks at a clipped pace with rigged shoulders. Finally she shoulders into what can only be his room. She slowly steps into the room, not really coming forward, looking like a terrified night owl.

The room is kept dim. Perhaps by nature or by request- what dude laid out by a mis-step wants bright lights on him all the time? Hunter would rather crawl into one of his caves and let the fire wolves be the end of him. He lifts a hand and it flops across his forehead as his eyes finally open. Randy would know her brother to be a heavy sleeper and this slow awakening is mostly typical… it's just enhanced by the sedation potions he's been given.

Randy doesn't move from her post, but she does kind of softly bark out, "Hey." Then louder, "Hey! You dumb cad wake up!" yet she still sports that fearful look, her voice is antagonistic.

"Sod off," Hunter mumbles, arm flopping back down to his side. Partially off the bed, even. "Ain't breakfast time yet." No, it's actually well on past supper. His legs aren't visible as he's wrapped about in blankets from abdomen down, but his legs — where they are beneath — do seem rather… misshapen, perhaps.

Randy steps forward, unwinding her hands to gently shove him towards the center of the bed. She immediately tries to get up on the side of the bed next to him, right up against his side, pulling his floppy arm around her. This is what he gets. "You promised. You promised this wouldn't happen. But now you're here," she frumps, "At least, at least," correcting herself. That is, At least he is here. She pulls a flask out from beneath her robe and offers it to him.

"You weren't supposed to come," Hunter mutters to himself as his eyes open and the dark hues become focused on his sister. As he comes more aware of his surroundings, he's able to shift slightly to make room for Randy, lifting that arm — less floppy now — to ruffle through her hair. "I guess she," and it's obvious who -she- is, "didn't mention that part." He takes the flask and adjusts, dragging himself with elbows into a more upright position. A swig is taken. "I promised I wouldn't die," he grouches. "And I didn't, did I?"

"You weren't supposed to fuck up," Randy says with a tiny smirk, but the look still in her eye. "Oh her? Who the fuck knows what kind of state of mind she's in when she's sober…almost," Randy corrects herself as she tries to duck out of the ruffle and fails. "Well that was part of your promise….So….what happened," she asks delicately.

"I didn't fuck up," Hunter grouches, taking another swig of the flask out of spite before handing it back. "Thought the ruins were Muggle. They weren't, so I wasn't prepared." He seems pissed off about that as much as his condition. "Turns out one of those god-kings of ancient days was some cocky-ass wizard who managed to litter his tomb with curses. Probably in the artifacts lying around in his honor or whathaveyou."

"Yeah that's called fucking up. You don't ever let your guard down Hunter," Randy scolds him lightly, and half affectionately. The stern little fighter she is. "You're going to be alright aren't you? What happens if you try to walk?" she asks. She's angry at him but her concern really outweighs that.

There's a faint grunt of annoyance from Hunter that is also, perhaps, assent. He won't admit it aloud that he fucked up, but he'll give Randy that much. He shoves absently at her shoulder as his eyes fall to where his legs lie covered. "I fall on my face," he answers, words rough and gravelly with annoyance.

"Bloody hell," Randy murmurs after being shoved. "They'll figure it out….and maybe Mum can help. You never know," she offers. She sighs. "Or I'm just going to have to carry you on my back," she says melodramatically as she shake her head.

There's a rumble in Hunter's chest and throat at the words. A warning sound. His brow is heavy and he looks away, towards the shuttered window. "We'll figure it out," he mutters. "Even if they," meaning the Healers, "can't, we'll figure something out. I will -not- be a bloody cripple."

"Fine, spoil all my fun at playing polo with you on my back," Randy says randomly, a strange look popping up on her face at her own expression. "Whatever. You'll get a lot more action if you are," she says as she reaches to grab the flask from his hand.

"Polo?" Hunter snorts, the sound incredulous. "Like you'd play polo." He leans back into the pillows, exhaling in a heavy sigh as he looks towards the ceilings. "I'll just have to work on my upper body so I can still climb into rigging on a ship. We'll have to get a bigger ship." Because he's never going to be inactive. "More action if I'm cripple? Fuck's sake, Randy. I don't want a pity lay."

"Oh I know," Randy says with twinkling eyes, "But you'll cave," as if she should be popping popcorn into her mouth. "You'll have that buff upper body…so strong," she mock swoons and then cracks up. "But seriously, you will cave," with a nod.

"I will not," Hunter says, lifting arms up to fold behind his head. As if he were just lounging on the davenport at the castle. "If the Healers don't find a cure, I'm sure you or someone will. It's got to be out there."

"Who says I don't prefer you this way," Randy scoffs. "I get to beat you at /everything./" It's just like the girl to tease and poke fun to try and get a rise in spirits. She takes a good pull from the flask. "And that just means I'm up against Mama….I think I can take her," she surveys after a few moments of thought.

"Not -everything-," Hunter protests, sitting up and shoving at Randy. Fully intending to shove her off the bed. He may be incapable of walking, but he's got the advantage of height, brawn, and years. "I'd hope time hadn't made you so cruel as to wish this on your own flesh and blood."

Randy doesn't even resist. Her arms folded, she gets shoved-booop on to her feet with a clack as her shoes hit the ground. "What can I say, we're competitive by nature," she says with a flash of pearly whites. "But seriously…I could beat you at /almost/ everything," she concedes with a roll of her eyes. "Do you have a bird following round this time we should worry about seeing?"

"There was a girl in the village," Hunter says with a smooth shrug, disregarding comments on how she'd be able to beat him. He'll handle that later. "But all she knew me as was the sexy foreigner who kept her up all night." There's a flash of his own teeth in a broad grin. "I'll just let her think me another legend lost to their history."

"So, no /real/ prospects since I last asked. Check," Randy doesn't seem to be bothered by this. "You know that Mama's going to be on you like a bee to honey. Probably trying to get to it all before word gets out." She offers back the flask, because, well, he'll need it more. "You might want to make one up to throw her off the scent…though, that might not end well."

"She can try all she wants. Doesn't mean it'll actually happen." Hunter accepts the flask and takes a good swig of it. "You're just scared she'll focus her attention on you if I keep balking. Men are always of marriagable age. You womenfolk, there's something about a clock or another." He's likely heard the Muggle phrase before, but can't remember it.

"Well men are there to accept the dowry. You can accept money at any age. But the older the woman gets, the more money you have to throw at it." Randy says with a smirk. "I wonder how much money we'd have to throw at a man to re-marry Mama." Though Papa wouldn't have it, they will never divorce. "I already told her that I'm not interested. Besides, I doubt I have a dowry anyways," that's what she thinks. She seems to be…quite invincible right now…one of her moods. While it could be just her getting to see her brother is okay, yeah, that's definitely part of it.

"Maybe they should wait, then," Hunter decides, taking a swig from the flask. "I'm sure there are older women out there just ready to drown me in money and luxury to try to win my hand." And he'd let it happen, too, always finding a reason to avoid the marriage itself. He yawns absently, glancing past Randy towards the door. As if expecting Mama to just appear. "You've got a dowry, I'm sure. Just wait, this summer, I bet she'll parade a few likely souls past you."

"You know all the money is tied u-" Randy finally catches on to what her brother is implying. That maybe father took care of things before everything went down. There are magic numbers for the insanely wealthy. Sweet 16, the coming of age…18…and when people die. "Well no one said anything when I turned 16," she says, a hint of trepidation in her voice. She sighs, "I wish I was a boy. Things are so much easier for you guys."

"They're at least going to want you to finish school," Hunter says with a bit of a shrug. "But since next term will be your last…" All the better to start the arrangements over this summer. He empties the flask then, scowling at it as it only yields a drop to a second attempt. "Easier? Ha! Whatever woman Mama tries to set me up with will surely expect me to get some job at the Ministry so she can lie around whatever house she would con me into buying."

Randy looks /worried/, as she should be. She frowns at her brother's assessment. She's the first girl. She doesn't know how these things go, but her brother has probably seen plenty a girl go through matching season, as it were. "Well I don't know about that. I would…really watch out for her. She once told me something that I don't know if I should believe. About Mum and Da. You might be pleasantly…surprised to fall for someone."

"How do you mean?" Hunter eyes his sister, skeptically. While he'd like Randy to be happy, he'd also be perfectly pleased himself to be away from Mama's machinations. He shifts, trying to sit up more, but it's clear it's a struggle. He shoves Randy's empty flask back at her, allowing him to brace palms on the side of the bed and drag himself upright. He grunts in annoyance. "What'd she tell you, exactly?"

"She was really sloshed…but she said something to insinuate that they were actually matched," Randy says with a frown. "Which seems weird because Da was out of Hogwarts when he met Mum. You know the story. He was on duty and was on one of the Flynn shipping lines for some reason or another. She got the jump on him and socked him in the face…out cold. So I don't know how /that/ could be a match, but Da always swore that was the mome-" Randy's eyes widen. "Holy shite. Do you think she did anything to him?"

"Or she orchestrated it with Mum's family," Hunter says with a small shrug. He runs fingers through his hair, scowling as they catch on a knot. The trials and tribulations of curly hair. "I've learned not to doubt what Mama is capable of, Randy. You'd be best to remember that, too. It's why I stopped telling everyone specifics of where I am. Last thing I need is for some cute girl to just 'happen' to be in the same town and just 'happen' to know who I am." You don't go hunting treasure in dark jungles without becoming rather suspicious.

You aren't a /Macmillan/ if you aren't a touch paranoid. Especially being the brood of James Sr. Randy just seems to take Hunter's advice as normal, and well received whereas another family…might think he's a bit off. "Yeah…You're right." Then there's silence for at least 5 seconds before, staring straight ahead, Randy takes a breath and asks, "Is that because you're hoping to maybe run into something else?" Cryptic again.

"Something else?" Hunter looks rather baffled at his sister's words. "Are you implying I've got someone I'm keeping a secret?" He snorts, shaking his head. "I don't. I'd tell you if I did. I don't want anything holding me back when I get a lead." Which might be part of why he's so antsy being laid up in the ward as he is. There are treasures going undiscovered… or discovered by other people.

"No…well maybe," Randy seems to get flustered which is…quite odd for her. "I um…that's not quite what I was asking." She does that tried and true Randy move of reaching up to rub the back of her neck. "Um…." Yeah, nothing.

Hunter narrows his eyes somewhat, watching Randy. He reaches out to prod at her shoulder. It's likely harder than it needs to be, but it's not meant to hurt. At least not by Macmillan standards. "What is it?"

"Uh. Do you fancy boys?" Randy can barely say it. It is /obviously/ making her feel uncomfortable. The last time Hunter saw Randy even near this amount of discomfort was when she was stuffed into a dress for a ball as little girl.

"What." Hunter blinks a few times at his sister, looking utterly baffled. "Whatever would make you think that? Mama hasn't been saying things, has she? Look, I just don't want to be married or tied down anywhere. It doesn't mean I don't fancy girls."

"I didn't ask you if you didn't fancy girls," Randy corrects Hunter, looking sidelong at him and mildly frustrated. "I didn't mean anything by it. Don't take it as an insult," she says, nearly in a huff. She crosses her arms and settles into a little sulky expression.

"Just want to be sure no one's making things up," Hunter says, frowning. He grabs at Randy's arm, trying to break away the arm-foldy-ness. "You know how Mama can get. Just wanted to make sure she didn't declare, in a fit of frustration, that I must fancy boys. Which no, I don't. I'd much rather bury my face in a great pair of tits than some edged pecs or, worse… flabby pecs."

It's Hunter's expression which finally breaks Randy's concentration on pouting. She sort of stares off, her expression less rough and then she snaps out of it at the pecs part, "Eww, gross!" She swats at him from her spot. Operation Arms Unfolded Accomplished. "Oh she's says that all the time," she says casually. "Since you were 21 or sometime there abouts."

There's a snort of amusement from Hunter and he grins at his sister. "Ew? Why Randy, don't you want a nice, strong, muscled man to sweep you off your feet and fill you with fat babies so you can do your Macmillan duty?"

"Hunter!…It's just…eww, no," Randy says and then snickers. "Fat babies? Really? Were we fat babies?" She looks up at him and then says, "If anyone was a fat baby…" She pats her thighs and says, "Maybe I'm not too keen on fat babies coming out of me." She is rather small.

There's a burst of laughter from Hunter at his sister's response and he pats her on the shoulder. "It's just a thing. If you have fat babies, it generally implies that they're happy and healthy. Tribespeople will wish that upon new couples. To have many fat babies." He leans back against the bed, chuckling still. "I can't imagine you having any babies, to be honest."

Randy looks at Hunter and grabs the flask. Then she shakes it a little and frowns, tucks it inside her school robe. "Really? Not even skinny ones? Or little ones? Maybe that's why you always hated the blokes I dated," she says with a shrug. "It's okay. I always thought you boffed the stupid girls."

"I hated the blokes you dated because I'm supposed to," Hunter points out. In a fit to be honest, at least, for the time being. "The last thing I want to imagine is my little sister being a mother. I don't want to feel that old." His face screws up a bit. "Nothing wrong with stupid girls. If I ever want to settle down, I'll find a smart one. The dumb ones are best for flings."

"I can't stand stupid girls," Randy says with a roll of her eyes. "Just because I'm dating someone doesn't mean I'm going to get knocked up," the Macmillan girl says with a frown. "You don't always have to imagine me as a mother…I should think that's going to be rather counterintuitive when I do finally settle down…and who says you can't find a girl who won't want to do the same things you want to do…or at least be supportive. Maybe all she'll want to do is boff on a mound of treasure while a dragon watches." She shrugs. "You /never/ know."

"I can't stand stupid girls for long either. Why the hell do you think I don't bring them home? They're cute, good for the few weeks I'm in a town, then I'm gone." Hunter snorts faintly. As if this should all be -so- clear. It makes sense to him, afterall. "Well, I'd rather you don't settle down for a long time yet. You're my little sister. That shit's too adult." He tugs absently at the blankets over his legs, making a bit of a face. There's a sidelong glance: "Well, if I ever find a girl like that, I'll be sure to keep her. But I haven't yet and I'm not gonna be celibate hoping for someone that might not exist."

"I would /never/ ask you to be celibate," Randy says, thoroughly mortified. A Macmillan? Celibate? No worse words could be uttered. "I don't really have any designs on it…that is, settling down. But there is a fair point about doing it in a timely manner. I mean…the longer I wait, the less attractive my choices..and then I might end up with a mean old bugger."

"Oh so you'd rather let Mama hook you up with some poor sod who is either -far- too interested in the whole matter or as disinterested as you?" Hunter has suffered the matchmaking, but has had a bit more freedom to make decisions. "Just you wait. You'll be down at the dock and some lad will show up with passing knowledge of sails and knots. Or out to dinner in London with Mum and in walks a young man with /his/ mother." He makes a face. "The worst are the ones who -want- to be matched up. You know there's something terribly amiss, but no one will tell you what it is."

"No, but I do want a family of my own one day," Randy says. This is, the first she's ever spoken about it. Who knows why she knows this already so young. Maybe it's because the girls get matched so young, they start thinking about these things. "One day. And I'd rather have someone cool I can hang out with in the meantime. I mean maybe Mama is good at matching? I don't know." She shrugs and sighs, listening to her brother go on. "I don't really know. I don't really hang out with that crowd." Case and point.

"I see." Hunter blinks at his sister a few times, clearly surprised by the revelation. "Well, I'll have to make sure Mama finds out." A sly smirk, but there's a spark in his eye. He's teasing. "She can focus on the one that -wants- fat babies rather than those of us that don't." Mind, he likely has some out there and just doesn't know it. "Maybe she is," he adds after a moment's reflection. "If she -did- match our folks…" He shrugs.

"Who knows," Randy says with a sigh…resigned. "Maybe the best idea is to adopt. I don't know if I'd actually want to /have/ the kids," she concedes, probably fulfilling Hunter's image of her. "I can't wreck this amazing body," she says with a dazzling smile. It starts to fade and she falls into silence more. "So, what if I told you I was dating someone again?"

There's a faint snort from Hunter. "Amazing, you say? Look at you. You still look like you're only thirteen." Not that he isn't fairly baby-faced himself. It's those fantastic Macmillan genes, apparently. "Are you?" Eyebrows raise and he watches her curiously. "Who this time? Do I have to keep an eye on him?"

"Clearly Mama hasn't taught you the fine art of sarcasm," Randy says with a /little/ punch to his arm. "I doubt 13 year olds have my abs," cough cough. More liiiies. "Well, um, not on him per se," she reaches up to rub the back of her neck again. "Slytherin this time around." Oh boy. "And uh…." SO HARD TO SAY. "I'd rather hope you /didn't/ keep your eye on her."

"Aww, to hell with sarcasm," Hunter says with a roll of his eyes. "Mama loves it too much and it's trying. Don't be like her." Says the man who is as much an alcoholic as their dear grandmother. "Eye on…" He blinks a few times. "/Her/?" The treasure hunter flops back against his pillows and shakes his head. "No wonder you're so intent on my interests. You don't want Mama to catch wind of that, do you? Though-" He gets a briefly wicked gleam in his eye and there's the plotting side of the Macmillan. "You could make -her- bear your children. Just get a good batch of polyjuice for someone you both fancy…"

Randy looks sheepishly at her older brother and shrugs. "You're the first person I've told," she admits. "No one at school even really knows except for her best friend," she explains. "/Please/ don't tell anyone," her eyes widen as she pins him down with her stare. "And yes. I don't want Mama knowing one lick of this. Promise you won't tell anyone….I mean, I don't even know if it's anything." She looks up at Hunter. "I mean…we've done things, I just-um," they haven't really talked about it? "I just don't know what it means…and she's likely to get matched this summer, and-" she sighs. "Well, that's certainly a solution, if we get that far."

"I won't tell anyone," Hunter says, holding up a hand in earnest. Perhaps to forestall any further panic. "Promise. Just so long as I can find some way to take it out on her if she hurts you." He smooths his shirt, arm falling to rest across his stomach. "She'll be matched? Well, she's pure-blood at least. If and when you do tell the family, that'll help. Especially if you can still have kids and carry on the line as it were."

"If she hurts me, I don't give a shite what you do," Randy says with a coolness about her. It's clear that she's still got that at arms length thing going on. But she shakes her head. "I'm just kind of scared, because…I haven't felt this excited about someone since," well Aidan. "Well that was a long time ago. But aye. She's pure-blood…and sometimes kind of a brat," she says with a smirk. "But I like it." She looks over at her brother, locking eyes, "And, she's a looker." Smiiiile. "Want to see?"

"You can be a brat too," Hunter says with a soft laugh. "Like finds like, eh? Slytherin, though? You sure that's a good idea?" Not that it ever stopped him from snogging the Slytherin girls, making them all embarassed to tell their friends. "Is she now? Well, of course she is. No less for my Randy." A gesture, "Sure, I'd like to see."

"Not /this/ kind of brat," Randy warns melodramatically. "Yeah, not quite like huh. What? You never know. She might just be an overachiever hell-bent on getting rich and picking up a trophy wife," Randy teases, as if she's any kind of prize in high society. She bats her eyelashes at Hunter and fans her face with her hand. ….. Creepy. Randy being girly - Oh and of course Randy paid some Slytherin brat, okay a few of them to get a picture of Helene somehow. She digs it out of a back pocket of her robe and hands it over to her brother. Helene is, of course…/Helene/, so she'd be doing whatever shenanigans that Slytherin girl would do in a wizarding photograph. "Well all the good Gryffindors are taken, the Hufflepuffs are morons as usual, and the Ravenclaws all think they're too smart for me now," she explains with a shrug.

"You should be flattered to be chosen as a trophy wife. They're usually expected to dress themselves in fancy dresses and be taken out on the town… If she thinks you're material for that…" Ah, there's a hint of the usual Macmillan charm. Which is to say not very charming at all when one gets through it. Hunter accepts the picture to look it over. There's a glance from the photograph to his sister. "I say keep her around for a while. Don't want you having to go for a Hufflepuff."

"You're such an arse," And Randy, being fairly sharp in the mind, gets through it just fine. She watches Hunter look over the photo, quietly. When he does look up at her, she arches her eyebrows expectantly and then she melts into a smile. Bright, confident. "Yeah, then I'd have to ask Sally who the best one is," Randy 1, Sally -1. "We all know how fruitful that would be….So, you're alright with this? Like if I don't end up having tons of /real/ Macmillan babies and such?" She probably wouldn't have told him first if she thought he would be the most likely to have a problem with it.

"Have I ever told you how glad I am to be related to Sally?" Hunter says, passing the photo back to Randy. "Lest Mama try to match us…" Ugh. He shudders a bit at the thought. There's a big of a shrug at the question. "Randy, you know I don't buy into all that pure-blood, keeping lines going, match everyone up… shit. I'd like to see our family stay just as big and happy, but I don't care how we do it. If I did, I'd've let them match me years ago." He's 26! If he plays his cards right, he might stay single until 30! Unheard of!

Randy snickers. "Hey, she's still a really cool lass," she says in the girl's defense, "But I know what you mean." Whatever that means. "I know I know. Don't tell anyone that by the way. Mama would have a heart attack and I don't think Papa would be happy about that somehow. I should probably go now before some nurse comes to kick me out and it spoils the mood for your hot hot sponge bath," she teases as she shifts and reaches over to give him a hug.

"Well I won't tell anyone about you if you won't tell them about how I feel. Especially since there may be some half-blood brats out there somewhat that're all my fault." Tribe girls don't have things like contraceptives and Hunter certainly doesn't care. He returns Randy's hug, squeezing her for a moment. "You'll be done at school soon and we'll go sailing one day, right?"

"Aww," Randy teases. "All your little brats running around talking nonsense," as if to say, so sweet. "No one has to know." She tilts her head, squinting her eyes. "If you can pry me away from Helene's fangs," which must be the girl's name. She's a Gryffindor, she's bound to either overshare or let something slip at least once in a conversation. She gives him a little parting kiss on the cheek and bounces off of his bed. "I'll be back tomorrow with rum," she promises, before heading for the door.

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