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Post by wastelandwheelman on Aug 4, 2009 7:31:37 GMT -5
Issaic wasn't listening to the female. His attention was out there, listening. He could hear someone within a thousand feet out. His eyes slowly scanned the roofs and buildings down the street. He heard it: a bolt to a high powered rifle sliding back into position...
"...We need to get out of here," he said, keeping himself in front of Sasha. He could take a bullet, as long as it wasn't to the head or the heart. He didn't know if the sniper was after him or Sasha. No point taking chances. "Can you keep a secret? And I mean take it to your grave?" He looked back at her, deathly serious look on his face.
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Post by girlie on Aug 4, 2009 10:40:37 GMT -5
Giving him a bored look, she nodded. "I'm an one of the top paid assassins in this whole fricken place, what do you think?"
Sasha wasn't sure what to expect, but she figured it involved him carrying her, scaling buildings, and possibly jumping rooftops. Letting out a deep sigh, she flexed her hands a bit, feeling the beginnings of adrenaline course through her veins as if she were on a hunt.
It's all in a day's work, she thought to herself.
"I guess this means I can't go home right this minute either." Mourning the thought, the tiger readied herself for whatever Issaic could throw at her.
The thought occured to her that it was the male who'd gotten her earlier that night and it scared the crap out of her. Being an assassin made it even worse, forcing her mind in circles, making her skin crawl and her stomach flip all over again. Sasha was having the panic attack of her life, her mind delusioning her with the sick thoughts that only one trained to kill can have. He's been following me this whole time. It's just a game of cat and mouse for him. I should have gone somewhere else, he's going to get me again, render me completely helpless like last time.
Sasha very nearly bolted, starting to pant like a wild, savage animal locked up in a cage. She didn't know what to do, but in her condition she could do nothing. It was maddening, and scaring her senseless.
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Post by wastelandwheelman on Aug 6, 2009 2:24:05 GMT -5
"...Listen," he said, glancing back a moment. "I'm-" he was cut off by a bullet ripping through his clavicle, spraying the wall next to him with a mist of blood. He recoiled badly, but did not fall down. His left arm hung lifeless at his side. He growled obscenities, before glaring back up at the skyline.
He wanted to rush up the side of the building and kill yhe shooter, but he remembered Sasha was there, too. Fuck it, he thought. He grabbed the fem's arm, pulling her onto his back, telling her to hang on, before taking off in a full-blown sprint. His speed was ungodly, as is common for Odyssians. He would have some explaining to do in a moment...
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Post by girlie on Aug 7, 2009 5:43:27 GMT -5
Sasha flinched when Issaic was shot, making her panic worse. If he went down, she had no one to even deter the predator. When he stayed standing, she knew that not only was he special, but that saving damsels in distress was not his usual line of work. Sasha knew for a fact that Issaic was meant to kill. The thought didn't bother her as much as it would've a normal furre. But she was trained to kill as well, so it wasn't so bad.
What the hell? Sasha could only let herself be pulled onto Issaic's back, clinging on for dear life. This supersonic speed was absolutely NOT normal for a furre.
That was when it hit her. There was something FUNDAMENTALLY different with Issaic. He was definitely not just any furre, he was a superhuman furre. Again the thought rang through her mind. What the fuck?
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Post by wastelandwheelman on Aug 7, 2009 21:53:36 GMT -5
Things were beginning to get blurry for Issaic. Not from his speed, but from the shock of the bullet. Odyssians were tough, but not invincible. He could still bleed out of he didn't get help soon. He tried to stay focused, skidding into an intersection and turned down a street, slowing to a stop outside an apartment complex. He let Sasha off, doubling over a few steps away. The adrenaline was wearing off, and the pain was starting to catch up. He hated being obsolete...
"...Well," he panted, coughing a bit, "here we are..." He forced himself upright, spitting a bit of blood off to the side. He removed the contact lenses in his eyes. No point in hiding himself from Sasha anymore. She already saw too much. Either she would keep his secret, or he'd have to kill her...
He doubled over again, feeling a little sick to his stomach. It would be a long trip back to West Lucent, considering he couldn't take the tram with a gaping bloody hole in his torso.
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Post by girlie on Aug 8, 2009 5:01:54 GMT -5
After being let down, the tiger blinked a few times, staring blankly at the male before her. She wasn't quite sure what to think, and dumbly watched as he recoiled, going into shock from the bullet in his torso. When she saw his eyes, her balance swayed slightly, hardly believing what she saw.
Finally, the scent of Issaic's pain stung her nose, snapping her out of whatever trance she'd been in moments before. Sasha the assassin took over, and as much as she didn't want to reveal any unnecessary skin, she took off what was left of her flannel shirt, ripping it into strips.
"Let me see the wound," she instructed, still a bit unnerved by the creature before her. "No, better yet, remove your shirt, if you wouldn't mind. It'll make it easier to wrap until you get someplace where that wound can be properly cleaned and dressed."
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Post by wastelandwheelman on Aug 8, 2009 7:02:46 GMT -5
The hybrid's breathing grew heavy. Everything was starting to move in slow motion, Sasha's voice an echo in the background. His now glowing eyes were staring off into nothing. He staggered a bit. "...I don't think I..." he couldn't think straight enough to finish his sentence.
He didn't want to ask if he could stay. He was too proud to ask, but he wasn't going to last long if he didn't take her help. "...Please, not... not out here," he managed to say, trying to focus on Sasha's face. "...I don't want others to see... I promise, I won't -cough- try anything funny."
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Post by girlie on Aug 9, 2009 20:24:46 GMT -5
There was a part in Sasha that told her to leave Issaic for dead in the middle of the street. However, there was a much louder part telling her that he'd proven thus far that he had no intention of hurting her and wouldn't have helped her home if he did. "Look," she ground out, trying to beat back her panic. "I'll take care of you until you have recovered enough to move, but the minute I feel threatened in any way you are gone, understand?"
With that, Sasha went to grab his arm to put around her shoulders, wrapping an arm around his waist and groaning at the thought of bearing his weight with her small, weakened frame.
"It's over there," she pointed with her nose, heading in that general direction. "I'll get you cleaned up and let you rest until you feel better."
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Post by wastelandwheelman on Aug 11, 2009 9:14:10 GMT -5
The hybrid’s vision was starting to clear, but he let the tiger lead him anyway. He noticed that even with her size, she was fairly strong. His damaged arm twitched slightly, slowly regenerating. He muffled another cough as they made their way through the maze of hallways and stairwells. He kept quiet until they stopped, at what he assumed to be Sasha’s apartment.
Issaic waited for the tiger to open the door and lead him in. His eyes tried to adjust through the cloudiness, still glowing an unnatural pale blue. He winced a bit as he removed his jacket. His white shirt was blood-soaked along the left side. He felt for an exit wound, but didn’t feel one, meaning the bullet was still in his body. Issaic loosened his tie and unbuttoned the shirt.
“…Thank you for helping me, Sasha…”
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Post by girlie on Aug 11, 2009 11:12:36 GMT -5
Sasha grunted at the sheer effort she put forth to support the male, realizing that hit would have been no problem had she not had the crap beaten out of her hours before.
She nodded her welcome once they reached her place, shoving open the door with her hip and pointing to a chair for him to sit on while she went to get medical supplies. While she rummaged through the bathroom cabinets and drawers, she had the time to be grateful that she'd recently taken the time to straighten up a bit.
Returning to Issaic with an armful of things, she waited for him to fully remove his shirt and anything else that would interfere with the wound. "I didn't notice an exit, which means this is going to hurt like a bitch," she confessed, dropping her things and getting a bottle of vodka from the cabinet.
With that, Sasha handed Issaic the bottle and started to speculate his wound, sniffing it to find infection amongst other things. She was actually surprised that the bullet hadn't gone completely through his collarbone and out the back of his shoulder. She grabbed a strip of ripped shirt and applied firm pressure to slow the bleeding, knowing that it would start up again as soon as she started prodding around, looking for the bullet.
"I have the get that thing out before I can clean it or any of that other stuff so bear with me, okay? I'm not a surgeon but I'm used to doing this kind of thing."
With that, Sasha removed the cloth, grabbed an elongated pair of tweezers that she'd picked up from a mark one night and stared into the wound until she found an angle that allowed her to clearly see a fragment of the bullet. She hoped she didn't hurt him too much, knowing she'd be the one he took it out on if she did, and tried to remove the fragment as quickly as possible without making the wound worse.
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Post by wastelandwheelman on Aug 11, 2009 13:36:33 GMT -5
He muffled another cough. He was having another one of his coughing fits thanks to his defective lungs. He kept a hand over the spot where a normal furre's navel would be. Being a product of genetic engineering, he wasn't of natural birth. He should be grateful, he guessed. He had abilities no other furre could ever hope to have.
He took a quick drink of the alcohol, letting it calm his tension a bit. His sight had cleared substantially. He took a quick look around the apartment. "Don't worry about hurting me. I can take it." He didn't mean sound chauvanistic there, but it was true. Odyssians were very hard to seriously injure or kill.
His jaw and his hands were clenched tight as Sasha fished the slug out of his collar. The round itself was horribly mangled, having hit the bone directly. The mushroomed lead had bits of blood and flesh. Issaic loosed a sigh of relief, unclenching. "Hard part's over," he said with a half-hearted smile. He dumped a capful of the vodka onto the wound, which had healed some already.
Weird, the hybrid thought. I never healed this fast before...
"I can take over from here. Why don't you go clean yourself up?"
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Post by girlie on Aug 11, 2009 22:54:02 GMT -5
Sasha wasn't quite sure how she should respond. She desperately needed a shower and some clean clothes, but having a strange male in the house unnerved her, regardless of his word. The tiger instead opted to wash the blood from her hands and some other tools, splashing cold water over her face, neck, and what was exposed of her chest. Then, she ran into her room, kicking the door shut behind her, and quickly throwing a new, clean tank and flannel shirt on and throwing out what was left of the ripped one while changing into a pair of jeans instead of her blood-stained sweats.
Feeling much better simply being rid of those clothes, she came back out to inspect Issaic and gave him a very curious look. He seemed better simply having the bullet removed. Taking a closer look, she tried not to invade his space, but had to do a double take of his collar. The bleeding appeared to be slowing down significantly, and wasn't the wound.... fresher looking when she left him?
What the hell? The thought crossed her mind, her face reflecting the same, confused look. Sasha raised an eyebrow at him, completely baffled. But she didn't know what to say, and just stared at the male who was sitting on her chair, practically healing before her eyes as if he was some type of superman.
Clearing her throat, she racked her mind for something to say, and came up blank.
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Post by wastelandwheelman on Aug 12, 2009 16:58:06 GMT -5
The hybrid looked up at Sasha, his ears cocking back a little. It seemed he had a bit of explaining to do. What would happen from there would be entirely up to the tiger. Issaic didn't want to kill someone who had helped him, but he would for the sake of staying unknown.
He could feel the flesh regenerating slowly. Soon, there will only be a bright gray-blue patch of fur where the wound had been. He looked up at the tiger, curiously interested in her. An assassin? She was so young, though. He noticed her confusion. It was understandable, and she did deserve an explanation...
Issaic let out a sigh, and tried to explain what he was. How he wasn't normal, but a genetic experiment, a freak of Nature. He looked away briefly, his jaw set tight. Now came the moment of truth, wether he would have to kill her or not. He looked back, focusing those icy blue eyes into hers, as if staring into her very soul, something he was pretty sure he didn't have.
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Post by girlie on Aug 13, 2009 14:29:57 GMT -5
Sasha slowly let the ideas and facts presented to her sink in, auds twitching slightly. She had no right to judge him, but she certainly had reason to be mad at the council for employing him and his kind. They were cowards and sadists, the lot of them, and it explained why business had been slow for her, these Oddyssians as they were called, killed the bad guy without being asked.
She wasn't sure how to respond except to sit and stare at Issaic. "So, you pretty much are like a super-being. And you can still die, but you don't have any specific weaknesses? And the only identifying characteristic of you and your type are those eyes - right?"
Sasha's mind was running in a million different directions, but she tried to remain calm, knowing that this type of information was dangerous and that she could be killed for reacting the wrong way.
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Post by wastelandwheelman on Aug 14, 2009 7:13:24 GMT -5
Issaic nodded slowly, "Yes. We are immune to virtually any poison." He removed his left boot and sock. "As for identifying an Odyssian, we all have our number tattooed on our left footpad." He lifted his foot, where a black 'B-080' was clearly inked. "That is mine..." he said, lowering his foot. He wouldn't explain the absence of a belly button, because there was no need to, now.
Now came the hard part. Issaic didn't want ot have to kill her. He really didn't want to. Which was weird, because he didn't usually hesitate to kill someone. So why was she any different? He cocked his head, studying Sasha. He normally didn't heal as fast either. What was it about this girl...
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