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Post by noelle adrienne cooper on Jan 29, 2011 22:49:49 GMT -5
I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight And I can't stand the pain And I can't make it go away No, I can't stand the pain How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes Got nowhere to run the night goes on As I'm fading away I'm sick of this can't erase the things that I've done no I can't arkness surrounded her, cushioned her, kept her warm. . . . For an hour all she knew was darkness and the hint of pain in the back of her mind. Even as she started to regain consciousness she was aware that she was in a shallow pool of her own blood. It smelled terribly strong in her nose, stronger than the scent of blood had ever been, and she had spent her fair share around it for the past three years. Slowly but surely the sounds started to return—the various sounds of the city; cars driving by, dull thumping of club music in the distance, a car horn, shouting, a crash can falling over. . . but so did the pain. That instance of pain before the darkness had swallowed her returned tenfold and the first thing young Noelle Cooper did upon waking open was cry out in pain and clutch at her chest. Her breathing immediately deepened and she curled into a tight ball, hoping that would stop the pain, or at least quell it for a moment. However, with the pain came a moment of clarity. Instead of waking from her unconscious state in a stupor, the pain jump-started her senses and she opened her eyes, glancing around. It looked as if no one else was around, and when she put her hand down on the pavement she felt the familiar viscosity of blood underneath it. Taking a few deep breaths, Noelle winced and pushed herself to her knees and pulled the black shirt up over her chest to check out the damage. Three large gashes similar to a claw mark stretched from underneath her right breast to the top of her hips and they glistened with blood—the source of the majority of her pain. “Ow,” she muttered when she tapped the wound with a finger. It was definitely going to need some stitches—quite a few. However, upon further inspection she realized she had deep puncture wounds in her arm consistent with a dog bite. Closing her eyes, Noelle tried to think back. Had she really been attacked by a dog? The whole thing was so blurry and had happened so quick. . . . But she certainly didn’t remember winding up in this span of an alley. Looking around, she spotted a trail of blood, as if she’d been dragged there. . . probably how the bite wounds had gotten on her arm. But why hadn’t the dog finished her off? Had it gotten scared off by someone? But if that was what had happened, why hadn’t they helped her? Brought her to a hospital? Pain lanced through her body when she moved and she decided that she needed to stop the bleeding, glad that the cuts weren’t any deeper and that her insides were still all where they needed to be. Taking off her jacket, she rolled it up and held it against her wound, letting her shirt drop over it so she could hold it tight to her. Suddenly, she thought she’d heard something deeper in the alley. A footstep, a breath. . . the beating of a heart? No. . . no that was ridiculous. “H-hello? Is someone t-there? I need. . . I need to get to the hospital,” she called, hoping she could appeal to the better nature of whoever was there. Hopefully it wasn’t just some stray cat or dog. . . . The hospital was far, but she thought that if she needed to she could walk there. TAGGED: open WORDS: five hundred ninety one OUTFIT: Here NOTES: hurray opening thread for new charrie. :U CREDIT: Crayola did the template and the image. LYRICS: Simple Plan
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MAL BLACKNEST
Were-Wolf
Power has no true reason... That's what I was always told
Posts: 163
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Post by MAL BLACKNEST on Jan 30, 2011 22:23:09 GMT -5
Why Do I Spend Time Here? [/u] ----------------------------------------- The night was warm, or at least warmer than others had been in his long life. It was also colder than some, but the optimist in him pushed that thought away as he stood on the corner of the roof, gazing up at the sky. For some reason, after all that had happened to him last time in the city, he had made his way back there. And he still hated it. All the noise, the overwhelming amount of manmade smells. The trash, the pollution, the metal monstrosities that mankind was so proud of... All of it tortured his sensitive nose to no end. The half empty bottle in his hand swished slightly as he raised it to his lips, draining what was left of it with a grimace, before hurling it away across the rooftops, where it smashed into something far away with an almost inaudible tinkle of glass. With an smooth, inhuman grace, he leapt to the next adjacent building, landing silently and meandering slowly towards the other side. It wasn't really like he had anywhere to go. He just went, just like he always had, just like he probably always would. If he needed to stop to rest, he did, but moved on almost immediately after waking. Eating and drinking was usually done on the move. But he had eaten recently, so he wasn't hungry. As for drinking, well, he thought he'd had enough whiskey for now...
His nose, on constant alert, made him stop as it picked up a new scent. Well, it wasn't strictly new, for it was a scent that he had smelled countless times in his five hundred years of life. It was the first scent he remembered, and the last scent he would likely forget at his final passing. There was blood on the air tonight, it's rich, metallic tang filling the air in the area. Taking another deep breath, he sifted through the air again. He couldn't smell other immortals in the area, but there was something in the blood, that was hauntingly familiar. He inhaled one more time. Whatever or whomever the blood was coming from, they were alone, and judging by the strength of the scent, they were likely in pain, if not already dead. Gathering himself again, his face suddenly serious, moving away from its all too recent relaxed visage, he leapt towards the scent, his speed now outstripping the cars on the street below, though he was still as silent as the wind that blew through the streets. The scent grew stronger and stronger...till he was directly above it, the warm air rising from the alley below bringing it straight into his nostrils.
Peering over the edge, his green eyes pierced the darkness of the night with ease, alighting upon the trail of blood that led into the alley, and ended at...a woman. She was obviously the source of the blood, her skin pale from the amount she had lost. He could see the damp sheen of her shirt, even without light, where the blood from a chest wound had seeped through. As his gaze clicked on her arm, however, his nose placed the scent he had smelled within her blood. And he sighed, pitying her for what she had become, unintentionally, without warning. The teeth marks made it all too obvious the reason for her wounds, as well as why she had been able to wake up from them at all. "Turnling" he muttered under his breath, forgetting for a second that she would now have the hearing to go with her new form. And she obviously heard something, even if she was confused as to its actual direction.
Despite everything he told himself, especially while drunk, MAl found it hard to ignore the pleas of desperate people. And this person obviously had reason to be desperate. To wake up in a pool of one's own blood after an event that one might never remember would certainly make it difficult for one to think rationally, even under the best circumstances. But she seemed sane enough for the time being. Even lycans, however, if they lost enough blood, could lose some ability to reason, even if they did regenerate faster than most. With a sigh, and a rueful smile at himself, Mal stepped off the rooftop, plummeting down to the alley behind the woman, landing silently, his legs taking all of the force from the fall easily. Straightening up, he addressed her quietly and calmly, but investing his words with some of the warmth he intended to convey. "Yes, miss, you do indeed seem to need a hospital. I would recommend, however, that you allow me to help you. As you are, I doubt you would get very far." He didn't mention that he intended to help her with much, much more than just getting to the hospital... She would need it. ----------------------------------------- When I Hate It So...
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Post by noelle adrienne cooper on Jan 30, 2011 23:09:43 GMT -5
I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight And I can't stand the pain And I can't make it go away No, I can't stand the pain How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes Got nowhere to run the night goes on As I'm fading away I'm sick of this can't erase the things that I've done no I can't ad she imagined the sound? Had her loss of blood made her hallucinate that she had heard something in the alley with her? Even as she looked around in the alley, she couldn’t see anyone inside. Shapes slowly started to get more clear, basic shapes turning into more complex forms as her eyes grew more accustomed to the darkness that surrounded her. Maybe she had imagined it, after all. . . she was going to be stuck walking to the hospital, wasn’t she. . . ? “Yes, miss, you do indeed seem to need a hospital. I would recommend, however, that you allow me to help you. As you are, I doubt you would get very far.”One heart failure later, Noelle turned around so quickly she very nearly toppled over onto her side, clutching her chest where her heart was in order to make it still. Behind her? Had the sound really come from behind her? After getting control over her breathing and her pulsating heart—which just made the blood flow that much faster out of the wound in her torso. Before she could even respond to the man standing there, she doubled over, trying to get over the blunt pain that had coursed through her when she’d moved a little too fast. Breathing deeply and just letting the pain fade, she looked up at the man and smiled with relief. He was going to help her! That was more than she could have ever expected out here in the middle of New York City. Nodding, Noelle started to get to her feet. “Th-thank you. I. . . I think I can walk. . . a little bit. If you call an. . . an ambulance. . . I need to go to Mercy Hospital. . . ,” she gasped, managing to get to her feet and take a couple steps before she stumbled and fell to the ground. Her skin was pale white and a little pasty, and she looked like she was about to pass out yet again. TAGGED: Mal WORDS: three hundred forty-two OUTFIT: Here NOTES: X3 thanks for posting CREDIT: Crayola did the template and the image. LYRICS: Simple Plan
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MAL BLACKNEST
Were-Wolf
Power has no true reason... That's what I was always told
Posts: 163
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Post by MAL BLACKNEST on Jan 31, 2011 19:41:37 GMT -5
Rest Now, Little Friend [/u] ----------------------------------------- Almost immediately, he regretted approaching silently. Her reaction was strong enough to make him wince slightly. Still, he supposed he should be thankful that he had approached from the side closer to the street. At least that way, it was more believable that he could have heard her. Or seen the trail of blood, for that matter. It was quite visible, especially in the soft light from the moon. She herself would have barely been visible to human eyes, hidden in the shadows of the alley. To him of course, the shadows held no secrets, and he could easily see her as she spun around. She was quite visible in pain, he noted, eyes darting from the wound on her arm to the clammy skin of her face. He'd gotten her heart racing too, accidentally. He could smell it as the wound under her shirt oozed more blood. It wouldn't stay under her shirt much longer. Even with the coat she had pressed against it, it would make it through soon, the she'd really be in trouble, leaking blood openly onto the pavement. The problem was pressure. She didn't have enough strength left in her to press down on the coat hard enough to stem the bleeding, and at best, she was slowing it only slightly. Even if she was freshly turned, there was still a chance of her dying, for her new abilities might take some time to come to fruition.
So she was in a dangerous position as it was, more so because she didn't know what had happened to her. There was a week, at best, before the next full moon, and he doubted she would forgive herself were she to injure one of her friends. But the most immediate problem lay in her wounds. He didn't really want to consider her walking anywhere, the pain and constant blood loss would overwhelm her long before she was able to get anywhere on her own two legs. He'd seen others succumb to shock after receiving such wounds, but she still seemed remarkably lucid, which made him wonder what kind of a life she'd had that enabled her to think calmly enough to attempt to treat her wound. It was an almost battlefield mentality, but she had never seen war, obviously. Something else then, but he cast the thought aside in favor of more pressing issues. He doubted the wisdom of taking her to a hospital, not because he didn't trust the doctors, but because they were bound to overcomplicate things having to do with wounds on a werewolf, poking and prodding and wondering how they healed so quickly. They wouldn't help her that much, simply stem the bleeding until her body had recovered enough to knit the tissue back together on its own. She wouldn't even have a terribly large scar, if any. Still, perhaps it was the better choice. Mentally, she was still human. Being around humans would most likely ease her anxieties somewhat.
He needed to decide. For her sake, he reasoned that it would be better to bring her to the hospital. As she stumbled, he rushed forward, catching her gently, careful not to touch her wounds with his arm. "If I could, I would..." he replied, remembering the little square communication boxes that humans called 'cell phones'. He had never seen the point in getting one, a decision that he didn't think about. After all, who would he call? "I don't have a phone, and after what seems to have happened to you, I doubt you have one lying around either." Easily, but with a facade of slight strain, he picked her up, still being extremely careful to avoid the gashes in her chest, though his hand curled around her back enough to press harder on the coat in an attempt to slow the bleeding. "I hope you don't mind, but it is quicker this way..." He could feel the warm, sticky feeling of her blood covering his arms, but showed no sign of discomfort. He'd seen and touched far worse in his time. ----------------------------------------- Let Me Carry You Home.
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Post by noelle adrienne cooper on Jan 31, 2011 20:07:09 GMT -5
I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight And I can't stand the pain And I can't make it go away No, I can't stand the pain How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes Got nowhere to run the night goes on As I'm fading away I'm sick of this can't erase the things that I've done no I can't he could almost feel her strength seeping from her body through the wound in her chest. The one in her arm wasn’t bleeding too bad, it had clotted a while ago, but the wound in her chest and stomach would take a little longer to clot and stop bleeding. Her breathing had already increased, and Noelle figured she was in some form of shock right then, but her training in the medical field was keeping her lucid enough. . . or was it something else? No, it had to be her training. Noelle winced slightly as the man caught her, but she was glad that he didn’t let her just topple to the pavement. But he didn’t have a phone. . . ? Who didn’t have a cell phone. . . . And where was her cell phone? Her bag? Looking around, Noelle tried to get to her feet, looking for her bag and everything that had been in it—driver’s license, cell phone, wallet, thirty dollars in cash, her debit card, and the last book she had read which she’d been too lazy to put away, but suddenly wished she had. Pain and loss of blood was making her lose sight of her priorities a little bit. “I had one. . . my bag, it has. . . all stuff in it,” she muttered. She was having a little more trouble breathing now. Suddenly her feet left the ground as she was heaved up into his arms, wincing again when the man put a little more pressure on her wound. It hurt, but she was thankful for it at the same time. Already her hands were sticky with her own blood, but the flow had stopped enough for her. “How. . . how will this be faster?” she asked, closing her eyes and just letting all her weight into his arms, trying to relax and maybe see if that helped the pain. “I think. . . I think I was attacked by a dog,” she muttered, hoping that maybe he would relay the information. “Might need. . . rabies shots or something. My name is Noelle Cooper. The ER doctor Chavez will know me.” Her voice had grown more faint as she grew weaker, toward unconsciousness. Death was still a ways away, but she was losing strength quick. TAGGED: Mal WORDS: three hundred eighty nine OUTFIT: Here NOTES: no comments atm CREDIT: Crayola did the template and the image. LYRICS: Simple Plan
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MAL BLACKNEST
Were-Wolf
Power has no true reason... That's what I was always told
Posts: 163
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Post by MAL BLACKNEST on Jan 31, 2011 22:31:12 GMT -5
Rest Now, Little Friend [/u] ----------------------------------------- Carefully, Mal cradled the injured woman in his arms, the expression on his face changing from one of fake strain to one of genuine worry, as her consciousness seemed to be fading fast. It was little surprise, however, because he could feel the warmth of her blood over both of his arms, and trickling around the hand that held her coat in place. He could feel it running down his wrist, dripping from his elbow onto the pavement. Still, knowing what he did, she wasn't in mortal danger yet, though a lot of humans would disagree. He had to get her to help nonetheless, and since he was probably the fastest method of doing so, she would have to trust him for now...well, she really didn't even have to do that, but he was going to help her, trust or not. She deserved that much after what had happened to her. If she allowed it, he also planned to stick around for a while afterward. She'd need some help in the coming weeks, months...and perhaps years. The life of a werewolf wasn't the easiest to get used to, if one spent the beginning of one's life as a human. Not that he'd know, but it's what others said. Plus, if he was going to get her there as fast as possible, it was better if she was a bit less...focused. He didn't really want to shock her with his methods, not while she was in such a fragile state. Fortunately...or maybe not, as the case was, she seemed to be losing focus on the world around her, slipping further towards losing consciousness.
Abandoning all pretense of her weight affecting his muscles in the slightest, he stepped out of the alley, looking down the street. This late at night, it wasn't as crowded as it might have been, but it was still crowded enough to cause hazards for anyone running down it... But it would have to do. "Shh, rest a bit, and calm down. We'll be there soon." Slowly at first, but with growing speed, he began a long, easy lope down the paved sidewalk, legs increasing the length of each stride, and the speed at which it was taken, until the world was a blur around them, though he gathered her closer carefully so that the wind wouldn't bother her. With a careless bound, he sailed above the heads of a crowd, landing lightly on both feet without losing a single step. His breathing barely increased in tempo as the city streets whipped by, and he sheltered her, paying careful attention to make sure she didn't realize what was truly happening.
Soon, the blur gathered itself back into individual colors, solidifying into the somewhat familiar visage of Mercy Hospital. He'd never been inside, but he'd walked the streets of the city often enough, and he never forgot a location. His eyes easily located the glowing 'ER' sign, and he strode towards it, bending down to speak softly. "Noelle, are you still with me? We're here... We're at the hospital..." He didn't know if she could hear him, but he walked through the doors anyway, heedless of the fact that he had no identification or money readily available. They'd recognize the fact that she was in danger, at least. The blood had already soaked through his white tee shirt, and was beginning to dry on his chest... At the counter, he said little, only indicating the extent of her wounds. "Oh, and she said she knew a Dr. Chavez here? Her name is Noelle Cooper..." ----------------------------------------- Let Me Carry You Home.
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Post by noelle adrienne cooper on Feb 1, 2011 20:48:45 GMT -5
I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight And I can't stand the pain And I can't make it go away No, I can't stand the pain How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes Got nowhere to run the night goes on As I'm fading away I'm sick of this can't erase the things that I've done no I can't nce again the darkness was threatening to overtake her, drag her down into its murky pits of numbness. But from the darkness she heard a voice, and she managed to somehow wrap her arm around his neck to keep herself stable while he carried her off to the hospital. She still hadn’t the slightest idea as to how it would be faster than flagging down someone with a phone. . . . It was going to be a nightmare trying to get her stuff back. . . it was obviously stolen while was incapacitated. . . . She was going to have to apply for a new license, get a new copy of that book. . . tell the bank her card was missing. . . . It was such a hassle! Noelle coughed suddenly, and then she kept coughing for a few seconds, covering her hand with her mouth. There wasn’t too much blood in her cough, but it was a terribly wet cough brought on by the stress and the pain, and her attempt at breathing through both things. She felt a slight breeze against her skin, but didn’t think much of it. She was too far gone, hanging on only by a little thread. However, the breeze ceased after a moment or two and a blast of warm air replaced it, along with the familiar scents and sounds of the hospital. How long had it been? Had she slipped out of unconscious at some point. . . ? It couldn’t have possibly taken only a short time to get to the hospital. . . it wasn’t. . . it wasn’t probable! Noelle tried to push away from the man to look around to see if they really had made it to the hospital, but she couldn’t move her arms. They felt like lead weights were attached them. And then finally, the darkness swallowed her. The last thing she saw before she went under was the familiar sight of Dr. Chavez hurrying toward her with a gurney. At least she was going to get the help she needed. . . . Would she be able to thank the stranger for his help? She hoped so. . . . . Even before the darkness receded she could hear the gentle beeping of an EKG machine, announcing that her heart rate was a little above what it was supposed to be. She counted the beeps in her mind before she opened her eyes, realizing that her heart rate had increased, but not alarmingly so. It reminded her of the dog heart they’d listened to in one of her classes, comparing the different heart beats to a human’s resting rate. . . . That couldn’t have been too healthy, could it? Slowly, cautiously, Noelle opened her eyes and let them get used to the bright light for a moment before she opened them fully and looked around. She was hooked up to an IV drip for the fluids she’s lost, and she could see a few empty IVs for the blood transfusion she undoubtedly had to get. There was no one else in the room, so she immediately attempted to move her hand. When she got results, she sighed in relief and let her hand drop to the side of bed, feeling for the call button. Noelle was surprised when she heard the ring, then laid back in bed and waited. Instead of a nurse, though, Dr. Chavez showed up, looking concerned for a moment, then happy that Noelle was up. Immediately they went through the song of dance of asking how she felt, and informing her that she had got so many stitches, a few rabies shots, and some bandages for her bite wound. After fifteen minutes of conversation and paper signing later, she was released; she didn’t have anyone to pick her up, and Dr. Chavez had already done her the courtesy of calling her a cab and offering to pay for it, since her stuff had been stolen too. Many thanks and two prescriptions later, she was escorted to the lobby and released from the hospital’s custody. Before leaving, Noelle, looked around the lobby, hoping to see the kind stranger that helped her when she was vulnerable. Biting her bottom lip, she walked slowly toward the exit, glancing around. She wanted to say thank you so badly. . . . TAGGED: open WORDS: seven hundred twenty one OUTFIT: Here NOTES: ha she didn't say anything. . . . CREDIT: Crayola did the template and the image. LYRICS: Simple Plan
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MAL BLACKNEST
Were-Wolf
Power has no true reason... That's what I was always told
Posts: 163
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Post by MAL BLACKNEST on Feb 1, 2011 21:34:41 GMT -5
Rest Now, Little Friend [/u] ----------------------------------------- Well, it seemed that she was, at least, recognized by some of the hospital staff, as the receptionist's eyes flew open wide and she grabbed the phone on her desk, quickly tapping in a short sequence of numbers and mumbling something too fast for him to really pay attention to. In less than a minute, a man with a gurney came barreling down the hall, forcing people to scatter out of the way. He was in quite the hurry, too. The corner of the gurney clipped a visitor, sending them spinning to the ground. As the gurney skidded to a halt in front of him, Mal took a step back carefully, to avoid any further collision. The man, whose name-tag marked him as a 'Dr. Chavez', indicated silently that Mal should place the girl on the gurney. Remembering that Noelle had mentioned a doctor by that name, Mal nodded, carefully letting the blood soaked girl down onto the gurney. As he took a step back, he ruefully glanced down at his own crimson-stained clothing. He had spares stashed somewhere, if not nearby, then he supposed he could steal some. It wasn't like the humans could stop him. Still, he didn't want to leave. He'd much rather remain here and wait for her to get out, no matter how long it would take. Ah, screw decency. If people wanted him to be truly decent, then they would make him wear clean clothes. He stalked back to the lobby, returning people's curious glances with feral glares that made them quickly look away. Choosing an empty bench, he sat down on it, placing an ankle up on his knee and leaning back, crossing his arms. His eyes slid shut, but he didn't sleep, rather sinking into a state rather close to a catnap, still fully conscious the entire time.
His mind whirled with thought. What was he going to do when she woke up? What could he say to her? 'Hey, guess what? You're going to live forever now!' Well, at least that was better than 'well, you're going to stay young while your friends and family wither and die', or 'sorry girl, but you're going to start growing fur every time the moon is full. Oh, and lose control of all rationality.' No, no that wouldn't work at all. But he had to find out some way to stay close to her in the coming days, to make sure that she didn't do something she might regret. To prevent her from doing so, physically if the need arose. Knowing what he did about young werewolves, it just might, at that. He didn't really have any cause for helping her, but he just felt the urge to, for some reason. She would be otherwise helpless in a world that would grow to despise her and her burgeoning secret. Even if she didn't do something this full moon, she might do something the next time, or the next time, if there was no one to help her.
Even with his mind moving, his body eventually succumbed to the feelings of exhaustion that had been threatening to overwhelm him, and his head tilted forward, slipping forward into his chest, his arms slipping out of their crossed state. He was awoken an uncertain time later by a familiar smell, and opened his shining emerald eyes to greet the image of Noelle walking out of the hospital. That fast? The doctor must really trust her. He raised a hand to attract her attention, though it was still caked in her blood. "Right here..." He said quietly, smiling at her. ----------------------------------------- Let Me Carry You Home.
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Post by noelle adrienne cooper on Feb 1, 2011 22:59:40 GMT -5
I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight And I can't stand the pain And I can't make it go away No, I can't stand the pain How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes Got nowhere to run the night goes on As I'm fading away I'm sick of this can't erase the things that I've done no I can't f course he wouldn’t still be there. Why would he? She was just some strange girl he’d found wounded in an alley. Besides, how long had she been there? An hour? An hour and a half, maybe? Two? She had lost all sense of time after she had been rendered unconscious, so all she had to go on was the time she’d left her dorm room. . . and according to the clock on the wall that had been four hours ago. Who knew how long she’d spent in the alley let alone the hospital. . . . But then she spotted some movement in the corner of her eye and she turned toward it, only to spot the man that had probably saved her life sitting on one of the benches, looking tired and maybe a little lonely. No, she had definitely made up the lonely part, she thought. A relieved and semi-happy smile tugged at the corner of her lips and she moved toward him with a slight wave, her hand down at the base of her ribs. Almost scurrying, she made it over to his little bench and sat down, the wounds on her stomach and chest feeling a little tight. Most of the blood had been cleaned off of her by the nurses when they were stitching her together. The bandages on her arm had started to blotch a little, but not from blood, just the fluid seeping out as they healed. However, the man was still caked in her now-dry blood and she could only grimace and look at him apologetically. “They could have. . . probably given you a clean shirt and something to wipe your arms off with you had wanted,” she commented off-handedly. She almost wanted to tell him that she had a clean slate of health, so he wouldn’t have to worry about being infected with anything by having her blood on her, but she thought that would have been a little too much. Looking down at her lap for a moment, she decided to get to the point. “I wanted to thank you for helping me back there. I probably would have died if you hadn’t come along and picked me up and took me to the hospital,” she said, looking up at him and meeting his gaze, trying to make more of an impact with how grateful she really was. Noelle really believed that without him she probably would be back in that alley, dead from the loss of blood or just from being outside for too long. TAGGED: open WORDS:four hundred twenty-nine OUTFIT: Here NOTES: :U blah blah blah CREDIT: Crayola did the template and the image. LYRICS: Simple Plan
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MAL BLACKNEST
Were-Wolf
Power has no true reason... That's what I was always told
Posts: 163
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Post by MAL BLACKNEST on Feb 2, 2011 20:17:58 GMT -5
Can I Help You Tonight? [/u] ----------------------------------------- Mal was glad that she noticed him, and shifted over slightly as she sat down, uncrossing his arms and legs and turning so that he could face her. She looked...better already, he had to admit, some of the color returned to her face. Still, those wounds still had to twinge whenever she moved, and he noticed the way she kept a hand at the base of her ribs. From the smell, he could tell that she had fresh bandages under there, and her swift release was a true relief. If it had taken longer, he would have waited. For the chance to help a turnling in need, he would give up what little life he had. Admittedly, that wasn't much, largely because he really didn't have much of anything in life. All it meant giving up was his largely transitory lifestyle for a bit. It wouldn't mean much, considering that he'd lived it for the last four hundred years or so. Almost five hundred now, not that that meant much. Moving around was all well and good, but it got...tedious after a while. Far better to have something interesting to occupy his time. Raising a turnling was... well, he'd never done it before, admittedly, but it felt...oddly right inside, like it was something that should be done. Whether she knew it or not, she needed help. Help controlling the more...bestial urges that were bound to arise, given time.
Almost casually, he dismissed the blood caked on his arms and chest with a wave of one (blood covered) hand. Truly, it didn't really matter to him. He'd seen and been covered with much worse in his time. There were times it had appeared that he had taken a literal bloodbath, so covered with the substance had he been. Right now, he was barely conscious of the stuff, apart from the slightly annoying feeling when it dried. "It's...okay. I didn't want to owe anyone anything, so...I'm fine with this..." He kept his voice soft and low, but his green eyes glanced over to look into hers. He was...hesitant now, uncertain of how to proceed. She would have...too many doubts about what he told her. Anyone would, at that. Werewolves, to them, were rumors, myths, a truth long lost behind the veil of time. They knew almost nothing about them any more, and what things they did know had been corrupted over time.
So what else could he do?his choices were, after all, fairly limited. He had to find a way, somehow, to stay...near her. He could only offer her protection, after all, if he were nearby. For a moment, he wracked his brain, trying to think of a way. "Please, I don't need any thanks. I simply did what was right." What my body told me to do... He added silently. "As to the...um...particulars of your injury, if you permit it, I might be able to...shed a light on the cause, and perhaps even the reason behind it. I have, sadly, run across...other cases like you, but you are the first one I was...lucky enough to find intact." He neglected to add the part that the others had been largely intact in body, but not in mind. ""If I told you that, what would you say?" ----------------------------------------- Please Say I Can...
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Post by noelle adrienne cooper on Feb 3, 2011 18:08:14 GMT -5
I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight And I can't stand the pain And I can't make it go away No, I can't stand the pain How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes Got nowhere to run the night goes on As I'm fading away I'm sick of this can't erase the things that I've done no I can't oelle looked up at him curiously, her head inclined to one side by a few inches before she flicked her head a little, trying to move her hair out of her face, but it only swung back over her eyes. “You wouldn’t have owed anyone anything. . . ,” she said, her voice losing volume as she said it, her eyes dropping to her lap. She made a mental note in her head to re-polish her nails, as the black pain had all chipped off except around the center of the nail bed. The silence lasted for a few more minutes and Noelle felt more and more awkward as she sat there, wondering if she should just get up, thank him, and leave to see if the taxi Dr. Chavez had called was there yet, but she stayed rooted to the spot, flattening one of the ruffles on her skirt. Just as she had gathered the courage to excuse herself, though, the man spoke again and she looked up at him from the tops of her eyes, keeping her head low. Would he ask her to do something for him or would he be satisfied knowing that he had saved a young girl’s life? Since this was New York City after all, she could only imagine that he would want something in return for his good deed. Noelle didn’t have much to offer, but it would only be fair that she repay him for his deed if he asked her too, in any way that she could. Hopefully he’d be nice and just ask her to do some chores or something. . . . However, that wasn’t what came out of his mouth. Not only did he tell her that she didn’t need to thank him—which was a relief, as it seemed that he would be satisfied with a heart-felt thank you. Maybe she’d find out where he lived and send him some flowers or. . . a fruit basket or something. People liked those, didn’t they?—but he also told her that he’d come across this kind of thing before, and that he could tell her what had happened. Had he been there the whole time? Was he the one who had chased off the mutt that had attacked her? Then not only did he save her life, but he’d kept the canine from ripping her apart! “What. . . do you mean?” she asked quietly. “You already did tell me so. . . .” Ugh. She was so not used to having conversations with people. She shifted in her seat slightly, wincing and holding her arm tighter across her chest when the movement tugged at her fresh stitches, Noelle swallowed hard. “Are there a lot of rabid dogs running around, then? You’d think. . . the city would do something about that. . . or warn people. . . .”Of course, in the back of her mind, she knew the gashes in her torso would never had come from any dog. They’d be smaller, shallower, and probably wouldn’t have even drawn any blood! Dogs don’t scratch. They tear with their teeth. TAGGED: open WORDS: five hundred twenty seven OUTFIT: Here NOTES: :U blah blah blah CREDIT: Crayola did the template and the image. LYRICS: Simple Plan
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MAL BLACKNEST
Were-Wolf
Power has no true reason... That's what I was always told
Posts: 163
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Post by MAL BLACKNEST on Feb 6, 2011 16:11:16 GMT -5
Can I Help You Tonight? [/u] ----------------------------------------- His eyes widened insubstantially as she said that he wouldn't have owed anyone anything. He supposed that was true. They probably would have been happy to see the bloody visage gone from their sight. Still, it was more the principle of the thing. Even if they insisted that he wouldn't owe them anything, somewhere, deep in his mind, he'd feel a slight obligation. For most people, the short span of their lives might allow them to ignore that tiny feeling, but after a while, it really began to grow, and grow, until it really rubbed at his psyche. On principle, he didn't like owing anything to humans, because they were likely to die before he had a chance to pay them back. His transitory lifestyle didn't really help in that regard, either. Sure, he might come back, but it would be in a decade or so, by which time they would probably would have forgotten about the whole deal to begin with. No, it had never done him any good to even think about owing things to people. In that way, he also always insisted that no one ever owed anything to him, either, largely for the exact same reasons.
With eyes that could spot the tiniest shifts in a person's muscles, he noticed the reaction to his words before she even voiced it. It was obvious however, that anyone who had received such injuries without any idea of how or why. He had a pretty good idea how, and if his strong inclinations were correct, then the why was obvious as well. The only question in his mind was the reason she had been left, why her 'attacker' hadn't simply killed her and gone on with it. It wasn't the sort of wound one would generally have from an intentional turning, unless the sire was a sadist. It wasn't unheard of, to be sure, but he was more of the mindset that whatever werewolf had done this, hadn't truly intended to turn her. The wounds on her chest when he had found her had been deep enough to kill, if she hadn't been found. But her future was still uncertain...
He shifted uncomfortably, noticing the way she held an arm over the wounds in her stomach. "To be honest, Noelle..." He started slowly, still trying to think of what to say. "Though I am almost certain I could tell you the reason for your injuries... I don't know if you would believe me. Not without proof, of course.... The one thing I can assure you is that it was no dog that did this to you..." His eyes shifted to look into hers. "I'm basing this off assumptions, but I think you know enough to realize that that wound was inflicted by something far larger than a dog... And it didn't come at you like a dog would. A dog would bite you, not claw you, and what dog have you ever seen with claws large enough to do that...?" ----------------------------------------- Please Say I Can...
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Post by noelle adrienne cooper on Feb 6, 2011 18:39:11 GMT -5
I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight And I can't stand the pain And I can't make it go away No, I can't stand the pain How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes Got nowhere to run the night goes on As I'm fading away I'm sick of this can't erase the things that I've done no I can't ven though everything the man was saying made sense, Noelle had absolutely no idea what else it could have been besides a dog! And she got even more confused when he said that she probably wouldn’t be able to believe her. Was there some other creature running around in New York that could claw someone like they had to her? Hunching her shoulders, Noelle looked away from him and fidgeted more with her fingers before rubbing the bandages on her arm, where the “dog” or whatever it had been had bit her. “I. . . I know. The only wound on me consistent with a canine is the bites on my arm,” she muttered under her breath, looking over at her arm. Dr. Chavez had given her some bandages to replace them with when she got home, as well as the ones around her torso, but she wished she could change the ones around her arm now: it was spotted from the punctures, but they had been too shallow to require stitches. “If it wasn’t a dog. . . what was it though?” Noelle said more to herself than to the man next to her. Wait. . . had he said his name yet? If he did before they got to the hospital, she probably never would have remembered it. Blast it she’d have to ask later. In the meantime, she had an epiphany. If it wasn’t a dog. . . but it was something that clawed and bit. . . then it could only be one thing! Or two! Lifting her head up, Noelle said “It was probably a cougar, wasn’t it? I hear they sometimes move down from the wilderness because they can’t find food. . . would be my luck. . . ,” she muttered, rubbing her wounds again and wincing. She was going to need a good long rest after all of this. . . how long would she really need to take the pain meds. . . though? But someone was in denial. TAGGED: Mal WORDS: three hundred thirty eight OUTFIT: Here NOTES: ;3; short post CREDIT: Crayola did the template and the image. LYRICS: Simple Plan
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MAL BLACKNEST
Were-Wolf
Power has no true reason... That's what I was always told
Posts: 163
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Post by MAL BLACKNEST on Feb 8, 2011 19:57:49 GMT -5
Can I Help You Tonight? [/u] ----------------------------------------- For the briefest of moments, he sat there, regarding her with his gleaming emerald eyes. Would she believe him, if he told her? Would she take him at his words? He didn't think so, given the popular mindset about weres and vampires. Nowadays, they were fantasy creatures, supposed imaginings from ages past. The humans had forgotten the old adage that every legend had a basis in reality. He could, of course, physically show her that his words were true, but he couldn't do it here. Too many witnesses. No matter what, though, she had to be told what she had become. If he couldn't tell her here, then he would have to do so elsewhere. That in itself begged the question of how exactly he was going to pull it off. She would trust him, probably. After all, he had saved her life. This was however, still New York, and stranger things had happened than attackers returning to 'aid' their victims for some twisted pleasure. Not that he thought she would start thinking that way. It had been over forty years since the last documented case of such.
He shifted uneasily, his mind still racing with thought as his mouth started to speak. "No, the wounds on your chest and arm were not, I'm afraid, inflicted by any kind of cat. In fact, your first guess was more accurate, but you don't need to worry about contracting rabies." He took her injured arm gently, eyes running over the spotted bandage. His thumb traced over where he knew the bite was. "The...creature, shall we say, that did this to you, was larger than a dog, but it was still a canine. The closest animal I could relate it to would be canis lupus dirus, the dire wolf. That specific species, however, went extinct many years ago." He paused for a second to let his words sink in. Extinct, the dire wolf might have been, but werewolves often found their shape more in keeping with its physical stature than any other species of wolf.
Rising slowly, he held out a hand to help her up. There was a good chance that someone had ordered a cab to help her get home, and it had been a good few minutes. "I'm going to have to rescind my dismissal of a way for you to thank me. Odd as this may sound, there is one thing I'm going to ask you for." He sighed internally. This was going to be the moment of truth. "Now, I can help you find the nature and cause of your wound, but I cannot say it here. What I'm asking therefore, is that you trust me, enough to allow me to sit down with you in a private location, that I may say what I can." He bit his lip as he waited for her response. Best case scenario, she'd take him somewhere she felt comfortable, ideally her home, or some other location she knew well. "Oh..." He added as an afterthought "If it helps you at all, and because I don't think I mentioned this earlier, I'm Mal. Malcolm, actually, but I prefer the shorter version..." ----------------------------------------- Please Say I Can...
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Post by noelle adrienne cooper on Feb 9, 2011 22:35:52 GMT -5
I open my eyes I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light I can't remember how, I can't remember why I'm lying here tonight And I can't stand the pain And I can't make it go away No, I can't stand the pain How could this happen to me? I've made my mistakes Got nowhere to run the night goes on As I'm fading away I'm sick of this can't erase the things that I've done no I can't he wounds weren’t from a cat, either? Deep concentration mixed with confusion became Noelle’s expression and she stared at the wound on her arm, barely even noticing when the man touched it—except for a gentle twitch when he finger touched a raw nerve—she was so deep in concentration. Not a cat, not a dog. . . there were no other animals she knew of that could have possibly gotten into New York. . . . “Dire wolf?” she repeated, as if she was in a dream. Well if they were extinct. . . then it should be something else, right? “Was it. . . was it a bear?” She was really on top of the guessing, even if she’d already been told that it wasn’t anything but a type of canine. Were bears canines? No . . . she didn’t really think they were but she couldn’t wrap her mind around what he was saying let alone what he was implying. Talking with people wasn’t really her forte. Noelle took his hand when he offered it, allowing him to help her to her feet. She winced a little bit when the stitched tugged at her skin and she let out a little hiss from between her teeth, but thankfully the pain meds she was on were helping to keep the constant pain down to a minimum, it was just the sudden pain from moving that was getting to her at that point. How she was ever going to get any sleep that night was beyond her! How would she keep it from reopening? Now he was saying big words and Noelle just kind of stared at him blankly. You would think that being a medical student she would be good with the big words, but unfortunately her vocabulary was full of words like metahemoglobinemia and other giant medical words. Words like “rescind” confused her a little bit. She remained quiet, though, and just waited for him to finish what he was saying. Maybe some clarity would come from that and she could figure out from the context what he had been trying to tell her. . . . Who talked like that nowadays, anyway? Seriously, she didn’t know. Did they talk like that now or what it just him? “You. . . wanna come to my dorm room with me?” Noelle asked slowly, cocking her head slightly to the side and looking confused. She figured that was fine since he’d saved her life and was going to tell her what had happened, so there was no harm in that. “I suppose you can. My roommate might be there, but we each have our own rooms. . . .”Staring at him for a moment longer, she awkwardly turned around—her movements stiff as if she was afraid to move—and started for the door. “Dr. Chavez called me a cab,” she tossed over her shoulder, keeping her chin against her chest as she walked toward the door, her feet shuffling as she walked outside. Sure enough a yellow cab was against the curb, and the driver flashed his lights when he saw the girl coming out of the hospital, probably having been told what his fare looked like. Crawling into the back seat, she moved over all the way to let Mal get inside if that was what he wanted and then told the cabby where to go. Within a few minutes, the cabby was off. TAGGED: Mal WORDS: five hundred seventy eight OUTFIT: Here NOTES: Okay that post was a little better than my last. CREDIT: Crayola did the template and the image. LYRICS: Simple Plan
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