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Post by tessa on May 24, 2010 22:20:20 GMT -5
[/b] she warned him, "Your whole arm will snap. Don't think it wont, you whore starved fuck." she could not hear his answer. She could not let him up. She knew that if she did he would crush her. He would kill her and fuck her dead body, and she didn't think he wouldn't. So he could not get up. But once she started thinking about it she could not believe she had managed to pull that off, having never been able to use this technique in combat, under stress. Her own amazement almost killed her adrenalin rush, and her fatigue, her cold weakened body and her rush of adrenalin distracted her momentarily. Her hand was ripped painfully away from his elbow because of her lack of attentiveness and much to her dismay. Fear almost paralyzed her. You fucking idiot! she felt like screaming to herself. Instead, like a frightened woman confronted with a spider, she lifted her hands to her chest and, with her strong leg, stomped down hard on the back of the mans head. She heard a deafening crunch as his nose crumpled completely with the force, and she almost vomited as blood trickled from the wound. He groaned. He was still alive. Xara knew he wasn't getting up anytime soon, and could see through the darkness the discoloration of his arm. Probably fractured from the way he had to twist it to wrench it away from her. She sighed in relief, her hand clutching her heart. The smaller man heard the crunch, his bosses groans and, like a good pet, came running to his rescue. Xara turned too slowly, with no time to react. Against her will, she screamed a terrified, tired, desperate (yet not shrill), scream. Tears pricking her eyes. She was sure she was going to die. [/ul][/blockquote][/size]
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Post by max on May 24, 2010 23:20:05 GMT -5
One of the park lights flickered. Max didn’t dare glance in its direction. Spikey, however, gave the light a confident visual assessment before flicking his beady eyes back in Max’s direction. The seedy individual shifted his position slightly, his long, bony fingers tightening around the hilt of the knife. Max couldn’t help but look down at it. Spikey chuckled, evidently amused by his nervousness. “What’ll it be, kid?” Max took a deep breath, anger plain on his face. “I don’t think so-” A loud crunching sound tore through their conversation. Max flinched, turning his head quickly, his senses alert. He crouched slightly, as if expecting something to come flying at him, but his greasy opponent merely left him standing there in preference for the scene to their left. Max’s mouth dropped open slightly.
“Holy fuck,” he said aloud, his eyes widening in surprise. The shivering girl he had rescued from the harbour was showing her true colours. I knew she had to look that athletic for a reason, Max thought, gritting his teeth at her treatment of Guznik. Xara had floored the man. His mouth quirked in a smile of relief and amusement at the sight; while he didn’t like violence, he was not completely opposed to it. She had every right to slam the bastard down, and by the looks of it, she’d done something nasty to his arm. Serves him right, he thought. They could run and call the cops, let them deal with it; hopefully he wouldn’t be able to get up. He was, however, equally relieved to note that Xara hadn’t killed him. That would be too much to explain and to end someone’s life was not a good thing.
Spikey wasted no time. The older man sped towards his boss, holding his knife ready. “That’s your last fuckin’ scream, bitch,” he hissed between his rotten teeth. Max looked around, his mind suddenly set in tunnel vision mode, a normal survival mechanism. A length of wood lay several feet away in the direction Spikey was running. Propelled by a sudden adrenaline rush, Max chased him, grabbing the branch on the way. The man didn’t see him; his hand made a grab for Xara’s hair, and Max swung the branch like a bat into the back of his skull. With a stifled yelp, Spikey lifted his hands to his head. He turned, but Max slammed the wood into the side of his face again, his swing more aggressive than the last. Spikey didn’t quite slump over as Max had hoped, so he tossed the branch away and jumped onto the punk, slinging an arm around his neck. “Run!” he shouted at Xara, but the girl wasn’t moving. Tears streaked her face, her eyes full of something akin to shock, or terror, Max wasn’t sure. He clung on gamely as Spikey reared upright. He wasn’t much taller than Max, but he was stronger.
They both staggered sideways, Max’s arm pulling in on Spikey’s windpipe. There was nothing else to do but cling on gamely while the man choked and spluttered, trying to throw the boy off. Max winced as he felt the sting of the knife drag unsteadily across his arm down to his elbow. He let go, but just as quickly kicked Spikey in the side and sent him sprawling. He had no real idea how to fight, but he was gonna improvise; he kicked him again in the back, hoping to do what Xara had done: disable him while they fled. Another kick to the head seemed to finish the job. The desperate shifter backed away from the punk, shocked at the blinding rage which had taken over him. He ignored the sting in his arm, instead turning and running back to Xara. “We’ve gotta run! They’re not gonna just lie there forever.” He grabbed Xara and lifted her, trying to block out the pain in his tired lungs. He managed to carry her out of the park towards the inviting lights on the streets. His strength gave out as they reached the sidewalk on the other side of the street, alongside a few houses and a well-lit convenience store. He was forced to put Xara down, his cut arm stinging painfully. He looked down at it, his face pale; there was blood everywhere, dripping from his elbow. For the moment, the wound would have to wait. “Are you okay?” he asked Xara as he tried to catch his breath. “Damn, you kicked ass back there! Where did you learn that?!”
[/color] ((OOC: BAD POST ERRR SORRY))
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Post by tessa on May 25, 2010 0:14:58 GMT -5
[/b]she stuttered, her voice a hoarse ghost of a whisper. "It will heal naturally, I think." Xara coughed, her shaky hand covering her mouth, and leaned back against the stone wall of the convenience store, her chest rising and falling deeply. The night air, against her hot breath and burning lungs, was sweet, cool and like nectar as it passed down her throat. It soothed her. "I learned," she said finally, "while I was at my old home. It was a rough place, so I learned fast." she turned her head painfully toward Max and smiled wanly. "I didn't know you could fight." she teased, then frowned, "though, we did just meet..." she stared at him thoughtfully for a moment. He was a friend to her now, whether he wanted to or not. The thing was that she was scared to have friends. Especially male friends. But he had already proved himself friend-worthy and trustworthy. So she smiled at him, a rarely genuine smile. "Those creeps wont bother us anymore...will they?" she added with a hint of terror. She lived alone. They would kill her. Her eyes betrayed these thoughts, her face, her body language. They way her eyes flickered, and dimmed. She was scared but...she would never ask him for help. She was too proud and too sure of her abilities to take care of herself to ask. She really, really wanted to. She looked away, her hands folded numbly on her lap. She felt ill, like a fever had come over her and she was in bed, unable to move. But she had to move. "We should go before they...find us..." she muttered bitterly. "I have some medical things at home...if your arm is bothering you. I have some beer..." she offered meekly. Then flushed, and looked away from him. "Or food. It-its the least I can do..."[/blockquote][/ul][/size]
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Post by max on May 25, 2010 5:09:07 GMT -5
At first, Max failed to notice that Xara had fallen unconscious. He gently lowered her onto the pavement upon noticing, kneeling down to check that she was still breathing normally. Her lips had taken on the bluish colour of someone who was both freezing and oxygen deprived. His own face was pale, his lip still bleeding slightly. Hopefully, nobody would walk by and wonder why there were two injured people by the convenience store. Max did not feel like answering questions. He watched curiously as his new friend stirred and buttoned his coat up around herself.
Xara moved quickly. Too fast for Max, who hadn’t considered that she might have any strength left. He flinched when she grabbed his arm, but didn’t ask any questions as she began binding his arm with her shirt. He watched her tie it tightly, not making a sound even though it hurt. Instead, he offered Xara a very small, shaky smile, then nodded at her words. It was just one more scar to add to those Noxx had given him a few weeks ago. She had raked her cheetah claws across his chest mercilessly, for a reason he still did not understand. All would fade, but for now, Max wouldn’t be walking around shirtless anytime soon. He was sure he could make some believable excuse about the knife wound.
“Thanks,” he said, using the edge of his shirt to wipe blood off his arm. Since his shirt was mostly black, maybe the blood wouldn’t be so noticeable. He sat down gratefully beside her, leaning his back against the wall and leaning the elbow of his uninjured arm on one raised knee. He looked at the sky briefly, wondering how he got himself into these situations. Then again, everything happened for a reason. He looked back down and across at Xara. He had at least made a potential new friend. While Xara talked, Max studied her face. She wasn’t any ordinary girl. Her tattoo told him that. But it was her words which made him wonder if something bad had happened to her in the past. He smiled ruefully at her question.
“Well...I didn’t either,” he replied, scratching his neck as if embarrassed. “I’ve never really been in many fights. No more than the next guy.” He didn’t particularly want to mention the fight with Noxx. What was he going to say, a cheetah had attacked him in the graveyard? He knew that she, too, was a shifter, but he wasn’t quite sure whether asking her about it would cause her to flee or even to attack him. He had not, so far, had good experiences with other shifters; he was generally naive about their ways. It seemed to be a more complicated world than he had ever imagined. “I guess I just...adrenaline, you know? I’ve never hit someone like that before...” His tone of voice betrayed that he was a little upset about it, though he tried to hide the fact. "You're pretty brave," he added.
She sure has a pretty smile, Max thought as she offered him a grin. He smiled back, feeling a little more comfortable. “No, I don’t think so.” His smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. He tried to sound convincing, but his voice came out a little too quiet. The terror on her face made him feel disconcerted; it was as if every bit of happiness had suddenly been torn from inside her, replaced by an emptiness which he could strongly sense. Max was an empathic individual; he often drew on other people’s emotions, and he felt his anxiety level rising along with hers. He looked away almost shyly, wondering what he should do. Offer to take her home? Thankfully, she spoke again, echoing his thoughts. One eyebrow rose as her cheeks went red. Why was she blushing? Max blushed also, confused.
Is she ... is she hitting on me?
No way. Why the hell would she hit on him at a time like this? She was just trying to thank him. But beer? Who offered someone beer after getting into a fight? “Good idea,” Max finally agreed, his expression growing serious again. "I'll walk you home." He stood up, his body aching from exertion. His muscles were already starting to go stiff. In the distance, thunder made the storm’s presence known with its first grumbling call. Max looked at the sky worriedly, noting that the clouds had certainly encroached further and further towards land. A flash of lightning touched down a little too close for comfort. Max loved storms, but he didn’t want them both to get drenched. He gave the sky one last look, then offered Xara a hand in case she needed help standing. “Two is better than one, just in case they do come back.”
As they got ready to leave for Xara’s house, Max’s curiosity took him into potentially dangerous territory. His eyes went down to her forearm. The tattoo was hidden beneath his warm coat, and he considered glancing away casually, but he had to ask. He needed to connect with someone who was like him. His head tilted slightly, eyes studying her face carefully. “You’re a shifter,” he said before he could stop himself. “I saw the tattoo.” His tone wasn’t accusing, merely curious and a little cautious.
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Post by tessa on May 26, 2010 0:07:25 GMT -5
[/i] status. "You... can't know...I-" she stepped back from him, shaking violently. "I am not a shifter." she said, though you could tell that she did not believe for one second that Max would agree. Her hardened face broke into a small sob of fear. She had nowhere else to go to. He would kill her. She was sure of it. "Look..." she begged. She never begged, "Just don't kill me... please...." [/ul][/blockquote][/size]
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Post by max on May 26, 2010 0:41:38 GMT -5
Xara’s reaction to Max’s query was a little unexpected. Max, it seemed, was ridiculously naive about just how much other shifters kept their secrets close to their hearts, hidden from the rest of the world. The fear on her face, the way she flinched from him; it horrified him. He took a step back, trying to speak, but he couldn’t seem to form words, his face full of anxiety. How could he not have guessed she might react this way? She was scared of him now. She would run away from him, would never want to see him again. “I...Xara please, that’s not...” He reached out for her, but he was standing to far away to touch her, to try to comfort her. A much louder crack of thunder made him jump. He folded his arms around himself, looking miserable, afraid and desperate. You’re the stupidest idiot! He thought angrily. Stupid! How else did you think she was gonna react?! Rough home! She came from a rough home!
To Max’s horror, Xara started to plead with him. Nobody had ever pleaded him for anything. He had never been given this kind of ‘power’ over anybody before; the power to be truly terrifying, to be the potential end to everything they held dear. Nobody was afraid of Max. He was a nice kid, even gentle in his animal form to the point of shying away from people in case they might be afraid of him. Afraid of the wolf that was, to the trained eye, evident in his appearance. “Hey hey...calm down,” he said, his own voice pleading, holding his hands up as if in defeat. “Please, Xara, I’m not gonna hurt you. If I was gonna hurt you, wouldn’t I have just pushed you back off the jetty? Or left you there? Or let those guys kill you?” He thought about what he had said and decided it wasn’t a good enough explanation. A sick person might have led her to believe she could trust him, then done something despicable and completely irrational. Max was not that person. How could he explain it to her?
Making a quick decision, the already freezing Max began to pull off his shirt. They were standing under a street light on the sidewalk, so she would be able to see. He shivered uncomfortably, his face paling slightly. “J...just look,” he told her, wrapping his arms over his naked chest. The tattoo wasn’t the only thing that was of interest. He had several vicious looking scars running down his chest and marring the top of his left arm. They had healed, but the scars would take a little while to go away. There was no time to be embarrassed by them; he wanted to show her something far more important than his pride. He quickly turned around once he was sure she was looking in his direction.
A small tattoo, identical to Xara’s stood out clearly on his shoulder blade. Max kept his arms wrapped around himself. He was freezing, and he wanted to put his shirt back on, but not until she knew he was safe. “I’m like you,” he said, his voice coming out a little louder than before. “I mean...I’m not sure if we’re exactly the same. I’m ... I’m half wolf, half dog. Weird as that sounds, that you can even get a hybrid...” He laughed, a short, humourless sound. “I just wanted to know if my eyes hadn’t tricked me, that’s all. I don’t know many like...well like us. I’m afraid to tell anybody. I’m...I dunno I just feel alone, and there’s no one to talk to about it. I was hoping maybe...well maybe we...” Sighing, Max turned back around, casting his eyes down at the sidewalk. “Never mind,” he muttered. “We could talk about it, but what is there to say, really? I guess I’d feel comfortable knowing there was someone out there like me who wasn’t a fucking lunatic.” The last two bitter words came out of his mouth sharply as he thought of Noxx. The cheetah had injured him, then she had stitched him back up and had let him leave. Retz had probably stayed behind to be her fuck-buddy. Max didn’t care. He had not come across a shifter since and he hadn’t been sure he had wanted to until he had met Xara. “Please believe me,” he said softly, looking back up at her hopefully, as much an act of begging as her previous pleading.
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Post by tessa on May 26, 2010 1:15:53 GMT -5
[/i] she repeated desperately in her mind, he's going to kill me...Xara forced herself to breath. Maybe she wasn't being so irrational, but at least she could die with dignity. Though she had not the strength to stand completely straight up she managed to straighten her shoulders so it was only her back that was hunched forward. She turned her side towards him, making herself a slightly smaller target. Though if her fears were true her world would be shaken. And if she ever survived, she'd never trust anyone ever again. It was kind of like those last stand kind of moments for Xara. As if all her life ended up pointing to this one, dramatic moment. Her eyes were narrowed and red. She could barely see through the film of tears. She could barely hear through her pounding heart. She could not feel the wind. She could not smell the salty waters. She could only see Max. And yet he still melted her heart. How sick was that? That she was so sure he was going to kill her and she was still wooed by him. Yes, wooed! She admitted it. She had the wool pulled over her eyes and it was going to cost her. It was like Uncle Ted all over again. Ach! Just the thought of her making the same mistake again made her want to tear her own eyes out! Now she shook. But she shook with fury. It was all for naught. “I...Xara please, that’s not...” Xara cocked her head slightly to the side, her anger immediately (but not wholly) replaced by intense curiosity. She had taken down someone twice his size not five minutes ago, so if he was a threat she could take him down no problem. But for the sake of herself, and for the sake of her sanity, she wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Even if he did prove he was no threat to her she would have to spend a lot more time with him to make herself really believe it. They stood in the midst of a storm on a cold, dark, empty street. Her hair was being tousled by a strong wind. A light flickered off in the distance. Any other time this would be a standoff. And it was, in a way. “Please, Xara, I’m not gonna hurt you. If I was gonna hurt you, wouldn’t I have just pushed you back off the jetty? Or left you there? Or let those guys kill you?” He made a good point. Xara relaxed partially, as if conveying that previous thought of aproval through her body language was going to help anything. Her deep, green eyes searched desperately still for him to give her something else. There were a lot of twofaced creeps out there who would gain a woman's trust and take her body from her. She stood still braced, but a lot less offensive stance. “J...just look,” Her eyes grew as wide as they could go. He was covered in scars. Covered. How could he have gotten so many? She wanted to, for a moment, reach out and touch them. To hug him and tell him it was okay. But she remembered, I am in danger! And held herself back. What she saw next was a lot less shocking. In fact it made a ass-load of sense. She straightened completely, though a lot more tiredly. The tattoo on his back looked exactly like hers. Not that that made her trust him more. In fact it made her trust him less. But at least he was less likely to turn her in. He could be a Thieves Member. She didn't really listen to the rest of what he was saying, but when he finished, she let the silence hang between them. It was dead, and thick like muggy summer air, though it was cold. "Put your shirt on." she croaked. It has been nothing short of--of a mortifying night, for us." she explained slowly. "Shifters are not looked upon kindly. If anyone knew I was one..." she shook her head, "Well, you know. I cannot take that risk. Not with people like the two we met tonight. You, though..." She took a step forward and looked him up and down, almost judgmentally, though not in a cruel way. "You seem to be honest and...genuine. I--- I...trust you." That was the hardest thing she had ever had to say. To trust in a complete stranger you had just thought was about to kill you... "I'm sorry, I thought you were human." she explained, "The bad kind. Not that theres any good kinds as shifters are concerned. We should probably get out of the street..." She stopped and doubled over. She coughed and coughed and coughed, until her vision darkened and her head was filled with pressure. She clutched her chest and cleared her throat. "I need to go home..."Her skin had turned blue. Her words were slurred. Her heart rate, though heavy, was labored. She did not remember why she was there or who she was talking to or why. Slowly, surely, hypothermia was taking its effect. [/ul][/size][/blockquote]
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Post by max on May 26, 2010 8:20:39 GMT -5
Thunder rumbled overhead as the storm gathered strength. Max could feel the moisture in the wind against his bare skin, and he knew it would start to pour with rain soon. Clouds had already obscured most of the sky above them. Rather than the brilliant cumulonimbus clouds which had dominated the ocean’s horizon previously, there was now a haze of less impressive but no less threatening clouds spanning above. The wind dropped suddenly, signalling the storm’s imminent arrival.
Xara’s voice broke through Max’s jumbled words. He quickly obliged, putting his shirt back on and biting his lip. He looked around uncomfortably, his eyes finally settling back on Xara as she continued to speak. The woman’s eyes took him in from head to toe. Max merely watched her face as she did so. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, though his muscles were still tense and ready in anticipation of a negative action from Xara.
”I...I trust you...”
The words came as a surprise to Max. His mouth quirked slightly in a smile again. She trusted him. If he had made one person in the world feel comfortable and positive about something, he had done his job as a compassionate individual. He reached a modest hand up to the back of his neck, looking at the ground with an abashed look on his face. “Well...I trust you too,” he said, looking back up at her. “Or I wouldn’t have told you about...well you know.” Her next words only confirmed what Retz and Noxx had told him; that humans were the enemy. Max did not like to think that every human was bad. It was what the other two had told him, and they had mocked him for his belief that some humans could be good. “I guess...but not all of them are bad. I know lots of people who are nice.” Perhaps Max was too optimistic about the human race. Perhaps he was merely young and naive.
Max’s arm moved to scratch at his bandaged wound, but he abandoned any thought of personal discomfort as Xara suddenly bent over, her body shaking in fits as she coughed violently. A quick step bought Max close enough to grab hold of her and steady her while she coughed. He was afraid she might fall and not want to get back up; her body was cold to the touch, and that meant she needed to get warm fast. “I’m gonna get you home, alright? You gotta direct me there,” he told her quickly. If it was just down the road, they could go straight there. If not, he would have to use his body warmth to get her blood flowing properly again. It was too dangerous to simply put her by a fire; her heart wouldn’t be able to handle the flow of blood rushing back into it.
The first drops of rain started to fall as Max carefully picked Xara up, mindful that she might protest. He would stubbornly refuse; she could not walk in this state. “Storm’s arrived,” he said, stating the obvious. “Don’t pass out, please, you gotta tell me where the house is. Just listen to my voice, alright?” A loud crash of thunder made him flinch, but his steps didn’t falter. The wind came back in its fury, dragging trees sideways and toppling over abandoned, empty garbage cans. Max managed to avoid one as it rolled across the sidewalk and onto the street. He gritted his teeth, exhausted but resolute. As he walked, he spoke, hoping that Xara would stay awake and interrupt him occasionally to direct him.
“Um...I dunno what to say, really,” he said, frowning and crossing the road. “I...I guess I could tell you about the first time I changed. I used to live in New York. I was in Central Park, just last year actually. That it happened, I mean. I mean it’s not like I grew up this way...” His words turned into babble in his efforts to keep her awake. “I felt weird and, I dunno then I went into the trees and passed out, and when I woke, there was this bloody dog licking my face. Then some guy came and was whistling at me, and asking where my owner was. That was weird. I mean I thought he was being a smartass. Then I realised I had this thing behind me, wagging...it was a tail.” Max laughed shakily. He stumbled slightly as he reached the sidewalk, his arms protesting and his breath coming out in gasps. “Is it this way?” he asked, hoping it was close and hoping even more that she was still awake. He was about to collapse. The rain was heavy, chilling him to the bone and soaking them both. It was difficult to see in the darkness and the driving wind and rain, but still he pushed on.
[/color] ((OOC: Hope you don’t mind the end. Left it up to you whether she passed out. Or you can say they arrived at her house, you can even say she gave Max the key to get them in, I don’t mind if you say he opened the door and carried her in to the couch. That’s what he’d do anyway.))
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Post by tessa on May 28, 2010 2:10:23 GMT -5
[/i], she thought bitterly. Directions this, I wont kill you that... she bet he even asked for food when he went to restaurants... She shook herself mentally. Max was helping her for fucks sake. She knew her aggression was not real, that it was just her illness talking. But she was still angry. She almost yelled at him for picking her up. I can do it myself! She thought indignantly, You think I can't? I'll show you...But she ended up becoming limp and numb anyway, unable to even satisfy a simple itch if she wanted to. She was more like a rebellious old, dementia controlled woman than any strong young female... The wind ripped at her coat and snaked under it, groping her with its cold, needing fingers. She shivered and almost protested. But mostly she just shivered. Her hair had not yet dried. This was what had kept her core body temperature so low... She heard him speaking... she could not recognize his voice... she saw his feet walking briskly against the the wet pavement... she blinked against the rain and squeezed her eyes shut.... She mumbled, "I... right. Turn...right? Apartment building... you know the one. The big one. I... wait..." She handed him her key, with a key-chain that had her address and apartment number written on it. She stared at it in her hand for a moment, amazed that it had just appeared. Did she have superpowers? She was seriously considering that as a possibility. She 'fell asleep' then, her heavy eyes too much to keep open. Her head pounding too hard to let her. Her heart beating too slowly... And then the lights seared her eyes. She sat upright and felt the blood rush through her head. Panic welled inside her breast and she clutched it worriedly, no longer clad in Max's jacket, but she remembered undressing herself, vaguely, and dressing herself again. Her shirt was on backwards anyway, she noticed that of all things. Or perhaps it was a dream... her hair was dry and she was covered in a blanket, lying on her couch. She ignored her panic and breathed deeply. When did she get here? How? Was she alone? What happened? Her panic was apparently not more worrying than her body's need for rest and Xara Alexandra Brubek promptly rolled over and fell into her monstrous snore-fest once again, as if she had no control over herself anymore... When she woke again, real panic mounted her. It sat on her chest like a large cat and she tried to shake it off but it was deaf to her wishes. She rubbed her eyes on her hands, still tearing, and ran her hands through her hair. Her skin, though chapped and salty, was no longer blue and boasted a healthy, pinkish color. Her eyes were white and no longer black and red. And she could feel with her senses. She knew where she was instantaneously. It was Max that worried her. It was as if her mind had been fretting before she woke to it. Where was he? She was so worried and so stressed out she wanted to vomit. "Max?"[/blockquote][/size][/ul] ((OOC: WOW this sucks. I am so sorry. I didn't know how to make it feel like she wasn't quite all there. That she was randomly thinking and speaking and feeling and stuff. I don't know... I thought I had muse. Hopefully it is reply-able...))
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Post by max on May 29, 2010 9:44:14 GMT -5
Finally, finally, they reached Xara’s apartment building. Max did not get a chance to study the place; his only concern was to get this cold, vulnerable woman into a warm, safe environment. He shouldered the main door open, stepping into the warmer building with a sense of sheer relief. Water dripped down his anxious face from his soaking hair, and he blinked, trying not to let it get into his eyes. “We’re here,” Max said as optimistically as he could, though he was terrified that she might be truly sick. He was reluctant to take her to a doctor; he did not know if her shifter heritage would show if they ran tests. It was too risky, though he would call an ambulance if he noticed a change for the worse. He managed to take the offered key from the drowsy girl and, despite his shaking hand, he also managed to slot it into the lock and open the door.
As soon as they were inside, Max set Xara down. She wobbled on her feet, and he pulled his cold wet coat off her. It would only hinder her body temperature from warming up. “Please don’t kick my ass for this,” he begged. “I gotta warm you up...you gotta get out of those clothes.” He pulled away for a moment, removing his wet shirt so that his body heat was more easily accessible. There was no way he was going to remove her clothes; he was sure he could warm her up without having her think he was doing something evil. Besides, her shirt was thankfully dry. His coat, however, was as soaked as he was.
Man, she’s finally warming up a little, Max thought with relief as he rubbed her arms and held her close to him, rubbing her back gently. Eventually, Xara made an attempt to stand on her own. He stepped away, worried that she would be angry with him for touching her without consent even though it was completely innocent. The female shifter seemed strangely vacant; her muddled, almost blank expression reminded him strongly of someone who was either drunk or stoned. Max’s eyebrows shot up as she reached down and started to remove her shirt. “Um...I’ll turn around; better yet, how about I go into the kitchen,” he mumbled, quickly walking out of the room. It was much warmer inside, and he rubbed both his arms uncomfortably, looking down at his scarred chest momentarily before scanning his surroundings.
When he was sure Xara must surely have changed, or whatever she was doing, Max peeked around the corner shyly. Her gaze was distant, her body swaying dangerously. Before she could fall, he quickly closed the distance between them, grabbing her as her eyes closed. Max ever-so-gently lowered her onto the ground, listening for breaths and placing her into the recovery position. He sat next to her, biting his knuckles in agitation. What the hell do I do? It was a good ten minutes before Max felt it was safe enough to move Xara to a very comfortable looking couch. She had slipped into a normal sleep, judging by the even breathing and the snores that occasionally built up into a sonorous roar. He tried to roll her onto her side to improve her breathing, but she stubbornly rolled onto her back again despite his efforts, enhancing the snores. Sighing in defeat, Max picked up his discarded shirt and coat and draped them over a couple of chairs to dry.
While Xara rested, Max did something he was politely uncomfortable with: he rummaged about in her cupboards, looking for things which might be of use. After some searching, he located an extra pillow, a blanket and some towels. He placed the pillow under Xara’s head, along with a folded towel to soak the rain water from her hair. He then draped the blanket over her. Ever the improviser, Max next located a dryer. It took a little longer to located an extension cord so that it would reach Xara, but when he did, he knelt beside her and dried her hair. Its rich redness became more evident as it dried. The colour of her lips had vastly improved and her pulse was becoming normal again, much to Max’s relief; his ultimate worry had been that she would warm too fast, causing her heart to go into overdrive and fail.
Once Xara’s hair was dry, Max removed the towel from between her head and the pillow. He spent the next twenty minutes standing with a towel draped around his waist while he used the hair dryer to dry out his jeans. He decided to let his hair, the shirt and the coat dry on their own; he wanted to see if there was anything in the kitchen worth making for Xara when she woke. If she grew angry at his blatant use of her things, he would let her shout at him. All that mattered was that she got better.
Pulling his jeans back on, Max wandered into the kitchen. He went to open the cupboard, then paused. I can’t just go in there. Frowning, he paced about six times before stubbornly opening the cupboard. Don’t be stupid. She needs something warm. Coffee, tea, soup... A packet of instant powdered chicken soup caught Max’s attention. He picked it up and, after some searching, found a bowl to put it in. He was about to turn the kettle on when he heard Xara’s voice from the other room. Max quickly flicked the kettle switch on and walked back into the other room. His concerned eyes took in her improved colour and the new alertness in her green eyes.
“Hang on, let me get you some water,” he said dutifully. He returned with a glass of tap water, which would be warmer than anything from the fridge. Max was a very obliging individual; if it meant slaving away for days to make her feel better, he would do it. “I’m making you soup,” he added, offering her the water and studying her. “Hey you look a lot better...I hope you don’t mind that I uh...I borrowed your hair dryer and I’m making you soup. I’m really sorry if it’s rude or something; I just...I want to help, I couldn’t just leave you there and your hair was so wet...I mean I don’t normally touch other people’s stuff...” His voice was a contradicting mess of unease at her possible reactions and relief that she was much better.
[/color] ((OOC: You think YOURS sucks? Mine wins for sucky! It’s SOOO badly written sorry. Didn’t describe the apartment much since it’s Xara’s. I hope what I wrote is okay, I had to make some assumptions!!))
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