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Post by dargan on Feb 23, 2009 0:58:29 GMT -5
Vice sat staring, her pale amber eyes completely devoid of emotion, expression relaxed and blank. Her mind was emptied of thought, completely engulfed in the loud ambient pulse that filled the room. It was not her heart, nor her steady breathing that had taken her into this state, but the music's steady rhythm that had brought her into a trace. She was relaxed for probably the first time in her entire life. Her mind and body numb to everything around her. Bathed in pale blue light she lay sprawled on a sofa, her clothes tattered and torn, the edges of her gray shirt burned and soaked with water. Traces of dirt still clung to her mussed fur, the smell of smoke engulfed her pelt. Blood stained her ribs and spattered across her chest, a cut tore through her pants leg atop her right thigh, the wound still sent a stream of crimson down her leg, some already crystallized in the fur around it. Patches of sandy colored fur lay scattered on the floor around her. She was a complete mess.
It could have been her lack of real consciousness that had made her miss the knock at the door, or it could have been the fact that she was so tired she didn't want to move, but either way she didn't answer.
Eyes shifted blankly to stare at a trail of bloody paw prints leading across the room to the sofa where she'd collapsed only minutes before. The remote fell from her hand and landed on the hard concrete, sending the batteries in separate directions across the floor.
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Post by Rook on Feb 23, 2009 1:25:03 GMT -5
Music.
Why?
Rook withdrew his hand for a moment, indecision coiling in his belly like a snake. Rook had been notified that she'd been sent on a particularly dangerous mission a few days ago, the details, he did not know. He could only extend his power as an Apprentice Overseer so much, and as soon as they passed the fledgling line, which Vice had long exceeded, he did not have access to all their records.
But what he did know worried him. And the music that was wafting through the house did nothing to improve his feelings.
"Rae"? he asked, his voice strained a bit as he rapped harder on the door.
Silence.
He knocked again "Rae, are you in there"?
The silence was unnerving, he knocked harder, the door quivering with the force of his hand, "Rae"! he barked, but still no answer came, and then he knew for sure, something was wrong.
Rook did not hesitate, he lowered his hand to rest on the knob of the door, and with a flick of his wrist, he shattered the handle, flinching to avoid the pieces of metal that littered the floor below. Wringing his hand for a moment and pausing he flicked his ears.
He could smell blood. The hair on the back of his neck rose.
He shoved the door aside, entering the house and looking around wildly, until he spotted her, his heart sinking, gut wrenching. At least she was alive, though she diddn't nessacarilly look it.
He paused, trying to make enough noise to at least make her notice him before he got within range.
He had trained her afterall.
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Post by dargan on Feb 23, 2009 1:41:57 GMT -5
Vice was completely oblivious to what had just happened, her eyes flickered closed, an ear twitching allowing Rook to know that she'd at least heard him, for the most part. She was still in her own little world at the moment, avoiding the internal pain she would be suffering right now. Everything had gone wrong, the mission was scraped after only a few minutes. They'd been tipped off. She'd been found out, nearly burned alive, beat to her knees and then run down by a hover craft before they'd left her for dead in an alley laying in a rain flooded gutter. Broken ribs were more than probable considering the blows she'd taken.
They were supposed to have helped, why didn't they? If things went wrong, they were supposed to have stepped in to take some of the aim off of her, it hadn't gone off that way. Those cowards...
A half snarl pulled at her muzzle as she began to become more aware of her surroundings. Her thought echoed in a slurred whisper. "Those cowards..."
Slowly she pulled her hand up onto her chest, holding her ribs loosely and turned her head to the older man, looking up at him with an almost confused glare in her eyes. Why was he here? Even if it had been someone who would have had bad intentions, she was in no sort of state to fight back. She'd have been killed easily.
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Post by Rook on Feb 23, 2009 1:53:00 GMT -5
He bared his teeth briefly. Who had allowed this to happen? What assholes would...
"Rae" said Rook slowly, loud enough so she could hear him, under whatever fog she was in. He was horrified at the state she was in, she looked like she'd been crushed against a few icebergs, then run over by an 18th century stage coach. He came closer, within clawing distance, but now he could see she would be too weak to be a threat, even disoriented.
Sorrow and indignant anger clawed at his heart, but there was no time for it. He would do what he needed to do.
"It's me" he said in that same slow voice, speaking as clearly as he could as if talking to a child "It's Rook."
Her words stopped him in his tracks for a moment, but he could not make sense of them, and this was no time to waste time talking to a half dead person.
His claws sent him readings, a lethargic pulse, blood loss.
He paused and reached out, touching her chest as lightly as he could, ignoring where his hands were placed. He could fret over those things later. His hand moved down and he winced, trying to lighten the load of his heavy paw on her. His claws fed him readings, and he was certain there was a break, if not two or three.
He'd have to find a way to move her. He bit his lip, kneeling down and lifting his hand. "Just hang on my girl" he said in a low soothing voice, unwittingly speaking to her as he had once spoken to his little girl, feverish and full of delusions.
The music was making it hard to think, driving him freaking insane as he positioned his hands just right.
This part would hurt, but that was tough love. Vice was his apprentice and she knew pain like an old friend.
He began to lift her, trying as best he could to cradle her body so her chest and torso was unaffected, but he was not completely sucessful.
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Post by dargan on Feb 23, 2009 2:18:09 GMT -5
She was beginning to feel again, but only enough to know that Rook was there. Her mind was still clouded and flashes of what had happened only hours before still streaked through her mind, but she knew he was trying to help. As he placed his hands under her, her snarl widened and she let out a soft groan, reaching for the her past mentor's shoulder, her fingers barely having enough strength left in them to hold onto his shirt.
In a brilliant flash of light she was back in the alley, pain seized through her like bullets driving into her chest and back, her sides ached and the small knife handle still protruded from her leg. She lay face down, holding what little breath she could gather until she was sure they were gone. To her it seemed like forever, the pain in her chest keeping her from being able to hold in any air for long. Slowly she scraped herself onto a drier piece of concrete, clawing her way into a sitting position and leaning against the building. It was getting dark, and cold. The rain was still coming down hard, washing her blood into the already flooded drains. Slowly she pulled the knife from her leg, holding her cry of pain in the back of her throat so no one would hear her and come back. 'Whatever god is out there, please, don't let them come back.' Her mind pleaded as the pain in her leg dulled into a constant burn.
She shook her head, gripping tighter onto Rook's shirt and opening her eyes, they were without sight, still locked in her memory.
Slowly she got to her feet, gripping onto the wall for support as she took a few feeble steps forward. Everyone was gone... She looked around, searching for the other Angels. They weren't there, not a single one of them. She was shaking so bad, it was hard to keep balanced. Vice limped on, clinging to whatever she could manage to grip to hold herself up.
It was dark before she reached base, and another hour before she'd reached her bunker.
"R-...Rook" Vice's voice was still slurred, but loud enough to be heard.
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Post by Rook on Feb 23, 2009 2:29:49 GMT -5
Rook could smell the fear and sickness coming off her in waves, it was so powerful he could choke on it, he knew that kind of fear. Only those who had seen, and been on the losing end of the battle could know it. He had not the faintest idea of where she'd been, but he could see what they had done to her. His student, his friend, his pretty warrior.
A familar feeling of helplessness sunk into his heart, he hated it more than anything, but it seemed to sneak into his life, a constant nagging hatred.
His arms were strong, they did not quiver a bit with her weight, he winced at her groan, but took comfort in the fact that she at least, on some level knew it was him.
He held her closer to him, as close as he dared, so even in her delusions she could have his scent, something he had taught her to utilize in their earliest lessons. It was something ever present in their world, like an invisible language, and the enemy could never anticipate it's uses.
He could recongize the scent of everyone he had ever known. and right now she stank of blood, and fear and pain.
Her wounds were dirty, her clothes soaked in foul gutter water, it seemed like, and she was cold as sin, he was no doctor, but every Arc-Angel had more than sufficient medical training, at least for wounds. Hell you couldn't rely on a doctor when you had a switchblade sticking out of your side.
The bathroom, he'd have to be careful, and he would certainly take her to the infirmirary after tonight, or have her picked up, but for now he'd have to make do.
He carried her, he knew it would hurt, but he kept talking to her, almost mindlessly. Partly to comfort her, partly to drown out that damn music.
"It's alright, it's over. They're gone, It's just me, It's just Rook" he had no idea who 'they' was. But she needed to know that they she was safe. Not only for her own well being, but frankly, a delusional arc-angel was like a nuclear weapon.
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Post by dargan on Feb 23, 2009 2:46:40 GMT -5
Her ears twitched slightly and she shook her head, bringing herself back from the memories that were so aggressively etched into her current mind set. She groaned again, the pain of being carried bringing her back to her senses. When it had dulled, she'd allowed herself to fall, but now it was back sharper than ever, she was waking up again. Like a patient out of surgery, shocked back into awareness by their own body sending pulses of adrenaline through her bloodstream.
Her eyes opened wide and she looked around the room franticly, though she didn't move much, only wrapped her tail around Rook out of instinct, trying to balance herself. "Rook? ..." Her mind trailed off for a moment longer before she finished her thought. "What are you .. doing here?..Where are we going?" Her words were still slurred, but at least they were full thoughts instead of empty murmuring.
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Post by Rook on Feb 23, 2009 12:19:18 GMT -5
"Yes" he said, not sure to be glad of her consience or not. There would be much more pain this way. He spoke less loudly, but in that same slow, crooning voice. The voice itself was false, very convincing, but false nonetheless at least, this time what he said was true and the right feelings were behind it. This was not always the case.
"It's me. It's Rook. I'm going to clean you up, Rae, you have a few broken ribs. You'll be fine. I know it hruts, but try not to move".
He was however, comforted to know that she could at least recongize him, and she could speak. It was rough, but he was certain that she could get through it, if she could talk he was pretty sure that the ribs had not poked any of her internal organs, and that was a very good thing.
With The Angels' medical technology, and her strength, she would be better in no time, but he could not be sure untill he got her out of her clothes and examined the extent of her brusing. Besides, he wrinkled his nose, they were wet and smelled to holy hell.
For one horrible moment, he forgot where the bathroom was, but his claws quickly informed him that it was on the left, he had missed it just a little in the dark.
He paused, marvelling at the huge open shower room when he had been expecting a small nook. He had forgotten--of course, Vice's house was an old locker room which had been renovated.
This would be more difficult than he'd thought.
As he walked the door slid open of it's own accord, and closed behind him as he entered, careful not to slip. The room lit up around them.
The Angels spared no expense, when they built for their own. What compensation was that for this, though?
He stood for a moment, frusterated and tired, with Vice, broken and hysterical, draped in his arms, he looked, trying to decide where it was best to start, he had to make sure he'd be able to see her, but not move her as much as possible.
"Trust me, Rae" he muttered.
He found a dry spot under one of the shower nozzels near the back, positioning her so her stomach and lower body was directly below it. He paused, kneeling as slowly and carefully as he could, inch by inch before finally lowering Vice onto the floor, flat on her back.
He hesitated for a moment, and then carefully began working on the sopping laces, some of them broken or frayed, many covered with beads of frost, he did not attempt to untie them, they were ruined, his claws simply snapped them with all the force of a moth flapping it's wings.
He carefully began to peel the icy clothing from her, discarding the fabric on the floor outside the tub when it came loose. He could see some her cuts, most were shallow, some were deep and in spots, her thin fur was soaked in dark red liquid. It was intoxicating, he could smell it moving with it's low viscoity out of her.
He grimanced.
"Vice". he began
"Do you have a safety kit anywhere? Bandages"?
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Post by dargan on Feb 23, 2009 23:29:38 GMT -5
Vice seemed a little surprised by the usually gruff man's actions, it was almost a complete turn around from what she was used to seeing, though she wasn't sure if it was just her still clouded imagination playing tricks on her, but, there was something almost... Fatherly, in his tone and expression. She continued to stare for a few moments before turning away and growling her displeasure at the pain that struk through her body as she was lowered to the tile floor. Amber eyes swept the room over once, the pale lights flickering overhead, dimming and brightening in their attempts to light the room. "I know it hruts, but try not to move" Easier said than done when you couldn't stop your own body from quivering. She continued to look around the room, eyes glazed, mind refusing to believe that she'd let herself get this way.. Those cowards, they were supposed to have helped. They were supposed to have been watching. The drug deal, it was supposed to have ended in the arrest of over twenty men. No one was arrested, no one got caught. The others hadn't even stopped them from doing what they'd done... but... was it her fault? Could it have been? Her body jerked slightly as a sharp pain etched it's way down her side. " FUCK! THOSE BASTARDS!.. I'll kill em.. I swear!.. Damned cowards!" Claws dug at the tile floor, leaving deeply engraved marks. Rook's voice again entered her mind, echoing as if he were far away, she could barely make out what he'd said. It took her a moment to answer, and through short, shallow panting she managed to rasp out the answer to his question. " Under.. the sink..." She pointed towards the other side of the room where a row of three sinks were held up by thin metal posts and pipes, underneath them was a large red tool box. It was always stocked with bandages, antiseptic, needles, medical thread, tape, and just about anything else she could have thought of. It was always good to have around. " Rook.. I have to.. tell you something.. I..." She muttered, her speech becoming a bit less stable as she turned away, staring off to the other side of the room again before closing her eyes. (Dun forget to edit your post Rookerz  ) |
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Post by Rook on Feb 24, 2009 11:55:22 GMT -5
Rook pulled his hands back as she raged in agony and anger, but his expression did not change, whatever sympathy he felt (and he did feel it, as well as an acute, awful sadness) did not show on his features. Whatever had happened to her, it was not important right now, what was important was getting her warmed up, and taking a good look at those ribs.
After, he would hear of it, he was sure, whether he wanted to know or not. He already had an idea....
There is no one you can truly trust in this world but yourself. We cannot rely on our organization, not a wit.
He paused before removing the entire remnants of her shirt, watching for a moment, her smaller breasts rise and fall in ragged breathe (he could feel the unsteadiness in his claws more than he could see it with his eyes) as her hysterical shouting subsided. She was bruised all over.
He looked down, reaching a hand forward, his tips of his claws had shifted, become impossibly finer, so they were barely a prick on her skin. Then he saw it clearly, as if the dark bruising hadn't been evidence enough.
They are bad breaks, but I don't think there's any internal bleeding.
As he looked down at her lying there, one of the only apprentices who had ever been able to hurt him, to fight him and not back down...
She got the shit beat out of her. he felt dim anger surged through him as he pulled his hands back, fists clenching, he would never have cried, but it was so ridiculous, so disrespectful and so enraging. How dare they.
... no Arc-Angel should be ever left. True enough, it was like cursing a soldier coming home, but the real reason was a Killer sense of possesiveness and an indignant rage. A personal selfish feeling. no apprentice of mine
He looked down at Vice for a moment, feeling a familiar helplessness I'm sorry hon he heard the ghost of his own voice, speaking to his daughter.
Then, the disembodied voice of his wife, surfacing from some long ago memory. She would laugh, she would kiss him on the neck, sorry sugar, life's a bitch.
"Be quiet now" he said, misunderstanding her in his own anger "someone's going to get it, you and me, we'll go together. Just stay still for me, and I promise, we will go get them."
It was not a hard promise to make at all.
And very quickly, far too quickly for any kind of hesitation or withdrawal, he pulled her ragged pants off her disjointed frame.
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Post by dargan on Feb 24, 2009 16:44:16 GMT -5
Her eyes tightened closed, ears pushing back with a mixture of pain and embarrassment. She'd always flirted with him as if it were nothing more than child's play, and in fact, it had been nothing more than just that. Vice a shy one? No, but there were things no one knew about her, things that weren't even in her files. Somehow she'd always gotten away with hiding it. It wasn't out of shame, but for her own preservation. A childhood on the streets had beaten that into her skull many times, their reactions unwanted, hateful sometimes, others laughing and teasing. She didn't mind the teasing so much as the hidden agendas of the higher ups.
A shiver ran down her spine, and she opened her eyes again, holding back a growl as her pants were pulled off. Vice had never been shy about these sorts of things, but this was her mentor, the man who'd trained her, helped her hone her skills in battle, who stuck by her side when no one else would... How that was proven today, she only hoped that he would continue to stick beside her no matter what he may discover. He was the figure she looked up to the most, almost as a parental figure, unrelated they may be, but it didn't matter. He'd showed her a kindness that no one since her parents had. The kind that told someone they were wanted around.
Her vision blurred with warmth, something running down her face, tears? Vice? A killer, a fighter? Crying?
She stayed quiet, waiting for the inevitable. Boxers clung to her body, wet, torn, and stained with crimson still flowing freely from the wound in her upper thigh. Chest heaved with the need to draw in more air, but the pain of it made her lungs stop short and tighten with a ragged cough that only worsened the situation. It was hard to breathe, hard to move, hard to stay awake. Her body ached to sleep, but she knew that it wouldn't be the best thing to do right now. Afraid that if she let herself slip, she may never wake up again.
Slowly she turned her head to look up at the older man's face.
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Post by Rook on Feb 25, 2009 12:02:01 GMT -5
Rook did not notice immediatly, though it was evident, perhaps because he had been concentrated on the deep cut in her thigh, which still oozed blood, he could smell it in his mouth and his nose and it sickened him, because he could smell it so deeply, and could sense every wound in her body at that moment, and the blood that pooled at them.
But as he leaned closer to look, he got an eye full of something he had...altogether not expected to see. His eyes widened and his face changed from it's stoicism into one of dumbfounded shock and disbelief.
What the fuck?
"I..." he said, simply for the dread of letting silence reign over that. He couldn't stop the track the motions of his eyes in time, but at least he managed to train his gaze after that. He was just...floored, how could he have trained her, fought with her, been in such close contact and not noticed....that.
Thankfully he managed to look at her upturned face instead of her ...groin, but there was nothing he could do about his expression, it was like suddenly finding out you had a third ear.
His mind kept running over the countless times he'd spent with her, from her young apprentice days when he'd worked her harder than ever, to make her an Arc Angel, to help her survive...
Sure, he had ragged her about being a lesbo...half jokingly, but he'd never imagined anything like this. She really hadn't given any sign at all.
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Post by dargan on Feb 25, 2009 20:01:39 GMT -5
She didn't know what to say, what to do besides to pull away from him. her ears flattening against her skull. "Don't be so surprised." She muttered, speaking not only to Rook, but to herself as well. Her tail wrapped tightly around her lower body, covering herself from view.
Vice was quiet for a long time before speaking again. "You can leave if you want. I can take care of myself..." She rasped, body still shivering and heaving for air through broken bones and bruising. In reality she knew that she'd probably just lay there all night if he didn't stay to help, but why would he? Hiding something like this from him for as long as they'd known each other. It was wrong wasn't it? She wouldn't blame him if he acted like the others had.
She suddenly felt so heavy, her flesh ached, muscles seemed frozen. "Cold.... cold..." Her voice was less than a whisper, barely audible through panting breaths. Her matted fur seemed to press against her skin and bruises so hard that it hurt. A grimace pulled at the edges of her muzzle, fangs clenched together, holding back her cries of pain so that they were only muffled whimpers and gasps for air. Tears still stung down her face, so warm that they seemed to burn like fire.
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Post by Rook on Feb 25, 2009 22:34:31 GMT -5
Rook cursed himself, here was his pupil lying on the floor, bleeding to death with a fucked up rib cage and he had spent an intermidable amount of time gawking at her.
Sure he was suprised, angered by her dishonesty even more than a little freaked out.
But it wasn't worth the slow agony that Vice was trying to push upon herself because of his own incompetence. He lied, he lied all the time, he could lie now.
He could be what she needed.
Rook was silent for a few moments, and then he reached his hands out again, moving closer to her broken body, the tips of his claws hooking waistband of her boxers and slowly peeling them off, without a word. He had to be quick, he couldn't leave her like that for long. He got to his feet, being as careful as possible not to slip in the dampness (at his age one became more conscious of those things, even Killers could break their neck and spend the rest of their life as a veggie).
He turned away from her, crossing the room and opening the bottom of the sink, his hands locating the aid kit immediately.His expression was unreadable.
As he approached her again, he came closer and kneeled down on one leg, like someone about to propose, his manner was businuess like,the way he had been when he was training her, the way she was used to seeing him. That was what she needed right now.
His enourmous claws carefully gripped the nozzle, paying close attention to how far he was turning the knob. He let it run for a split second onto his other hand, not even letting a trickle of the water touch Vice yet.
He turned it, as it squeaked a little further down the H sign and then he pulled it with all his might.
The water gushed down in warm jets, covering the hir naked body. He looked her all over now, shamelessly, but only because he was calculatory in his manner.
He unscrewed the nozzle from it's resting place and took it, kneeling down closer to hir, and spraying where he saw fit, the warm water flooding over hir body like blood.
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Post by dargan on Feb 25, 2009 23:01:38 GMT -5
Vice shivered, she was completely exposed to this small enclosed world. Even the showers seemed to betray her now, their usual comfort reduced to agonizing steel glares. She didn't know why she felt this way, perhaps she could feel it in the air, a sense of impending doom... yet... it didn't come.
As he got up and walked across the room towards the sinks she allowed herself to relax slightly, her head resting completely against the cold concrete floor. The muscles in her chest and stomach seemed to release their grasp on her internal organs, allowing her to breathe slightly more easily. She still felt heavy, heavier than she'd ever felt in her life, like she were about to fall through the floor.
Pale glazed eyes closed and muzzle parted slightly, allowing still forced breath to pass through dry rims. He didn't leave, he didn't react. Was that a good thing?. The sound of running water pulled her back and she looked around for her mentor, finding him standing at the nozzle of a shower head, the look on his face was the same as she could remember. Through years of training, he was the same. "I'm sorry..." She muttered softly, keeping her tail placed over her exposed lower body.
The water hit her like stinging beads of fire, but it soon dulled into comforting warmth as her body stated to become regulated.
"I should have told you at least... I di-" Her words cut off in a rasping cough followed quickly by a long painful yowl. "I didn't... I didn't know.. How you'd react." The tone in her voice seemed to betray the fact that she'd gone through it all before, bad things that had happened. The memories seemed to seep through her vocals.
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