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Post by cierra on Jun 24, 2011 19:54:31 GMT
OUTFITMY MOUTH SOMEHOW FORGETS TO WORK [/color][/font] so i stare until you shout[/center] There had been very few times she stepped into this place. It had to be quite an occasion for her to dare to walk thorugh the doorway of the bar. The smell of alcohol and smoke had filled her nose from the moment she had came in. Now that she had been here a while, she was getting use to it. She was old enough to drink, but considering how stupid people could be when they started to drink, she avoided it. At the moment, she was drinking a bubbling sprite, and although a little embarassing, it was better than what would happen if she decided to drink. Looking around, she saw a couple of drunk girls trying to dance on the tables. Trying to picutre herself up on them made her cring. The embarassment from the sprite was worth than having to deal with that. The only reason she had come in that place wasn't here. Again.
An old friend of hers from high school had wanted to meet up with her after so many years. Cierra was always excited and urgent to see old friends. It gave her a small satisfaction that perhaps she wasn't totally worthless. Some people still wanted to talk to her. She had called and said to meet her at the bar, even giving her a specific seat to meet at. Cierra arrived a few minutes late, expecting her to be there already. When she wasn't, she figured that she was running late just like Cierra had, so it hadn't bothered her. Now it had been about an hour. She wanted to leave about fifteen minutes ago, but the thought of her friend coming and being mad at Cierra for not being there made her sit where she was. Perhaps Cierra heard the wrong time and she was an hour early. Things like that often escaped her mind, so it wouldn't have been a surprise. However, it was also getting late. The original time was ten. Now it was eleven, so the crowd was starting to get pretty rowdy and crazy.
Her head kept looking toward the door to see if she would ever see the fimilar face. When she first got the call, she had to look guilty through her yearbook to see what she looked like to refresh her memory. As high school was seven years ago. Her mind was also very fuzzy at all the people that she was keeping track of. Now she had a clear image in her head, but no face that looked like that lurked in the club. She took a deep sigh, trying to debate heavily on what to do. Cierra had texted her, called her, and even left her a voicemail. She didn't want to call anymore. It felt extremely needy, and though Cierra thought of herself as kind of needy, she tried to avoid annoying people as much as possible. Her wish was that one day she would be strong enough to be so dependent, but she hadn't improved too much except to sheild others away.
What was worst was now that guy's visions were getting fuzzy, they saw Cierra as attractive (she didn't quite understand it though. If alcohol made average girls attractive, wouldn't it make attractive girls smoking? Why were they looking at her? The bar was filled with other ones. Granted, most of them had someone already, but all the same, it confused Cierra greatly). A couple had given her a sideways smile when catching their glance, and all Cierra would do is watch the bubbles in her sprite bubble up to the top. It wasn't very entertaining, so she would return to look around to people watch. People watching here was even better than in the old town, though a lot of them scared her. Her mind was almost ready to make a choice to go ahead and call it a night until someone went up and talked to her. The voice made her shiver and she could smell the alcohol on his breath without directly facing him.
Very cautiously, her glance turned to the stranger that talked to her and she froze. Cierra wasn't good with these type of situations. She was just awkward and uneasy. That didn't look like it bothered him. His hair was everywhere and thick, as if he hadn't brushed his hair in years. The hair made a very harsh frame against his skinny long face, smiling with teeth crooked and dangerously white. It looked like a typical drunk except so thin she could make out the bones in his face. The feature she focused on the most was the big dangerous purple eyes at her. This guy was a warlock. Warlocks wern't known as dangerous, but Cierra considered that any good man could be turned dangerous with a motive and drink. Witches and warlocks were known as neutrals, but so was her race, and her family was on the dark side of the war.
Seeing he was so close to begin with, her head backed away uneasily. This didn't seem to give a hint at the least. He said something in a dark voice, "You waiting for someone?" He took the seat next to her without being invited and contiuned to invade her personal space. Cierra had to fight to keep from making a face at the terrible oder this guy put off. Instead, she made uneasy forced smiles at him. "Actually, I was considering leaving. I don't have much to do here." The warlock's eyes darted quickly toward the door then back at her. A hand was placed on her knee and she thanked herself for not deciding to wear a skirt, but instead, a long pair of jeans. "Sure there is. You can have lots to do." She jerked her legs away to take the hand off. It was time she left. Now.
She went to hop off of the stool, saying as she did so, "No, it's getting late." Before she could plant her feet on the ground, however, the stranger made a tight grip on her wrist. Alarmed and starting to panic, her head whipped around to face him so hard that her curled hair hit her on the nose. Those purple eyes were no longer locking into her dark eyes, but elsewhere. It was very clear what he wanted to happen. Though if Cierra wasn't so navie, she would have saw that as soon as he strolled over. The grip on her wrist was actually starting to hurt, so she jerked it, but the grip just tightened. "Let go of me!" She exclaimed rather loud, hoping that the movies were accurate when the bartender walked over and stopped it. However, she glanced over at the bartender, who looked like he could care less. Curse the movie fantasies.
She turned to take the hand off of her by prying his fingers off, but before her hand could make contact, his other hand snatched her other wrist. He spread them wide so that there wasn't much keeping him from leaning in besides her neck thrashing. He kept repeating in the slurred drunken breath, "Just give me a chance deary. I can make your night worth it. You've been here quite a while. I can make it worth the wait." Cierra started to squirm like mad, trying to use everything, but in high pressured and panic situations, she was more like a deer in the highlights. Completely useless. Her mind was racing to fast to think properly. The warlock kept leaning in, and Cierra squeaked again, "Let me go! Please, just let me go." she wondered if there was any spell on her for keeping her legs moving. She wasn't sure how far the warlock's spell and potions extended, as she hadn't met one besides her best friend before. The talk never really went on this kind of stuff. So now her paranoid mind was racing as he inched closer and the grip became so tight, she felt like her hand would pop off. WONDERIN WHY YOU CAN'T FIGURE ME OUT [/color][/size] with a change i call the names[/font] [/center]
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Post by CASON FLYNN ELLERY on Jun 29, 2011 3:57:08 GMT
Stale smoke and dim lighting. Yep, this place smelled and looked like any other bar in the city, filled with people drunk off their asses and those who politely sipped at some lighter sort of drink, just wanting to mingle and perhaps get lucky and score some hottie's number. Cason Ellery fit neither of those two categories, being neither drunk nor looking for anyone to hit on. Seated at a booth in the corner of the room, he sat nursing a glass of whiskey, his back set purposely against the wall, giving him wide view of the place without having to worry about someone sneaking up behind him. One of his many little quirks that made him who he was, or rather, the sort of hunter that he was. It was much easier to concentrate on the task at hand when you didn't have to keep checking over your shoulder constantly.
It was a trick he'd learned from an older hunter, one of many that had already saved his life countless times over. Because despite the drink in his hand and the fairly casual demeanor he was displaying the young man was not here for any sort of pleasure. Nope, he was on a job, one that had already taken up a good portion of the month so far. Countless hours of tracking, research and subtle questions had led him on what probably would have seemed like a wild goose chase to anyone else who might have been privy to it. However, the work always paid off in the end as was proved by the aim of those green eyes of his, flitting nonchalantly towards a pair of men drinking rather happily (and heavily) at a table a little ways down from where he sat. They were rough looking things that was for certain, looking and probably smelling as if they hadn't showered in weeks. To anyone else they were just another couple of drunks but Cas knew better.
So far they were being fairly well behaved, which wasn't unexpected considering they were in a very public setting. As far as supernatural beings went the two of them weren't ones he would normally consider all too difficult in terms of what it took to kill them. How they were seated gave the hunter a full view of the one's features and the back of the other but it was enough for him to see quite easily who was who. Shifting slightly in the booth, the cool metal of his pistol brushed against his back, reminding him of just what he hoped to accomplish before this night was over. Not yet though, there were far too many people around for that sort of thing. No, he was going to be patient, wait for the opportune moment to finish the job. And finish it he would, he always did after all.
Taking a slow swig of the amber liquid in front of him, his brow furrowed slightly as one of the two ruffians got up, heading towards the bar. The jeering smile on the face of his companion told Cas that the warlock was up to no good, a correct assumption it would seem as his gaze followed the inebriated fellow as he sidled up to a young woman there. From what he could tell she was very much alone and had been since arriving. Setting down his drink, Cason kept a subtle, yet keen gaze towards the two, a bad feeling forming in his gut at this new development. Things never seemed to end well when you added a civilian to the mix, especially in an environment such as this one. The poor young woman who'd managed to catch the warlock's eye seemed far less than thrilled by the attention she was receiving, responding rather quickly to whatever question he'd posed, her head moving in a negative sort of manner. At that point he placed a hand on her knee, the sort of way that suggested he wasn't going to tolerate no for an answer.
A jerk of her body threw his hand away and she made a move to leave but he proved to be quicker than she apparently expected and caught her wrist. Even from across the room Cas could see the panic starting to from on her features, staring at the man next to her with a wide gaze. No one else seemed to give much notice to the scene, which didn't surprise him all that much. Though run by humans and with plenty of human patrons this particular club was a favorite haunt for many supernatural beings. Anyone who might have felt some sort of concern knew better than to interfere, turning a blind eye instead. Therefore her attempt at getting someone's attention by raising her voice did little but garner a brief glance from the bartender and a couple of fellow drinkers nearby. Bastards.
Looks like this game was gonna end sooner than he'd originally planned.
By this point the warlock had her pinned against the bar where she struggled in vain to get free. Standing, Cas strode across the room and reached out to haul the man off of her, sending the warlock stumbling away. "What, your momma not teach you any manners? The lady said please," A far too pleased smirk parted those lips of his as he positioned himself between the girl and the warlock, expecting some sort of retaliation. And he wasn't disappointed as the man gave an angry sort of snarl before lunging towards him, throwing a punch and missing as Cas dodged before kicking the drunk and sending him to the ground with a thud. "Nice try, bud. Next time try not to drink so much, mkay?" The sarcastic remark was met with a glower from the warlock as he fumbled to get up. "Kill his ass!"
Cas didn't have to turn around to know who the warlock was addressing and swung out his hand as he turned to face the second supernatural being. A sharp howl of pain followed as the blade of the knife in the hunter's hand sliced into his target's arm, the silver blade burning like hot lava against the werewolf's skin. "He's a damn hunter!" The man spat out, clutching his arm. By this point the warlock had slid across the floor and before Cas could even react he felt his legs get knocked from beneath him. Hitting the floor, he barely had time to move before the werewolf had hauled him up and threw him across the room, sending him crashing into the tables. That was enough to create a fair amount of chaos as those who had been sitting at said tables started yelling and cussing. Blood trickled down his forehead where a piece of a glass had managed to slice through his skin during the tumble and he shook his head in an effort to get rid of the dazed feeling it produced.
Taking advantage of his foe's momentary stunning, the werewolf came at him with a knife of his own, clearly planning on finishing the hunter off right then and there. Fortunately, Cas wasn't quite as out of it as it looked and twisted just as the man lunged towards him, driving the dagger he'd never let go of deep into the werewolf's thigh and let the metal do its work. Screaming in pain, his attacked stumbled back before falling to his knees, immobilized. At this point, instead of even trying to help his "friend" the warlock had set his sights on Cierra once again, using the chaos as a cover to sneak up behind her and grab her arm in another vise-like grip. "You're coming with me, sweetheart!" he breathed into her ear before dragging her with him through the now riled up crowd of patrons.
Cas spotted them just as they were reaching the edge of the crowd, the exit looming a few yards away. Scrambling to his feet, he pushed more than one person out of his way, reaching behind his back as he yelled at the warlock, "Hey!" The simple word was enough to bring the man's head around for a split second and that was all the time Cas needed to fire the pistol he now held in his hand, putting a bullet straight through the warlock's forehead. A shocked look was on the man's face as he fell slowly to the ground, freeing Cierra as he did so. Wasting no time, Cas moved quickly towards the young woman, ushering her towards the exit, "Time to leave!" he announced, not really giving her an option, though it was hardly in the same sort of way as the warlock had just been intending. Rather it was the fact that there was fairly angry werewolf still in the bar and they needed to get while the getting was good. .
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tag Cierra!! <3 words 1,481 notes So yeah, no worries about the length. XD Mine went out of control as you can see. I can guarantee you the rest will be no where near this long though. I'M JUST SO EXCITED FOR THEM!! -spazzes- credit t to the illy @ caution 2.0
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Post by cierra on Jul 2, 2011 18:09:23 GMT
OUTFITMY MOUTH SOMEHOW FORGETS TO WORK [/color][/font] so i stare until you shout[/center] This was ridiculous. Cierra usually avoided situations like this. It's the first one that happened to her. Granted, this was also her first time in a bar this time of night alone. Most of the time, this was the very reason she wasn't going to be walking by herself in the middle of the night. It was this horrifying nightmare that she had been trying to prevent by obeying all the nighttime rules. Cierra never even really ventured in the outdoors at night. The one time she decides to break that rule in order to wait for a friend, this happens. All her thoughts were rushing, that being within her thoughts. Why? How come it was happening to her? More importantly- how come no one was helping. Cierra was obviously struggling, not wanting this stranger to be gripping her wrists. A lot of times, they said if you have to walk alone at night, bring a friend, but now, would that friend do anything? Suddenly, all the creepy things her uncle put on her seemed very small and little problems she probably shouldn't have been worrying about.
Someone had been hearing the screams in her head or saw the terror in her face, because the warlock stopped to look over at someone. Cierra heard a deep voice interupting everything. She only had a small moment to look over at the person that decided to help. The short features she got were very strong and dark. Just darked featured with a hard face and dark hair. It was hard to see what else it was about him, as the riot started right after that. The warlock shot at him and Cierra was let go, almost fall backwards off of the chair from how far she had been leaning back. The only thing that saved her from cracking her head was that her hand had been placed close to the bar, so she gripped to save her from the fall. Her legs slid off of the stool and she watched with wide eyes as with the quickest flash, the evil stranger was now on his back. Cierra wasn't sure if she wanted to chant or hide from the person smacking her down.
Cierra gasped out loud. Did he say kill? Her glance swung over to another person she hadn't seen before, but recgonized from looking around the bar a couple of times. She felt absolutely useless. LIke those girls on TV who could only watch in terror as a fight scene was happening. She understood why they were so useless now. Cierra felt like she couldn't move. As if her whole body was a statue staring helplessly on the scene. Once she finally got the courage to try to move, maybe to help in someway, her ears detected the words that made shivers crawl up her spine. He's a damn hunter God this night was just getting worst and worst. She gulped, wondering if that's why he went up to the pair in the first place. Warlocks were hard to hide with purple eyes. She couldn't see the other stranger close enough to see if he was a warlock too, but it was clear he was supernatural.
She had never met a hunter before. It also seemed a little ironic she was being saved by a hunter. Shapeshifters could blend probably the easiest within the human race. They could go their whole lives with just changing for the first time then controling it. At the same time, she couldn't imagine not changing, so she don't think she would have a happy life. It was like a deep urge to change. Her getaway place was when she was running around alone by herself in the woods with no place to go and no one to worry about. Still, she changed in a private place, no one could really see her. Her thoughts about him might knowing what she was died down while she thought. However, it didn't completely get rid of her paranoid.
Should she leave? Probably not while bodies were flying all over the place. She gripped her shoulder, backing up when she saw the fight appear in front of her eyes. It was leaving the bar quite a mess, but no one was daring to interfear. In her panic, if she stopped and thought, it would all make sense, but her mind was pretty braindead at this point. Everything was a little blurred. She saw points where she thought the hunter was going to get stabbed, and she felt her stomach lurch when it happened. She was hoping for the hunter? Cierra was a little confused by her own loyality, but at the same time, if the hunter was going to kill her, at least that would be all he would do. It was still strange leaning toward the side she was afraid of, but in all fairness, she was scared of everyone at this point. In her dazed confusion, she didnt' realize the warlock had gripped her wrist once again.
The whisper in her ear caused dread and more panic to fill her. Cierra wasn't very strong, so her sad attempt to fight him off was awfully sad. She squirmed but he still contiuned to drag, whispering some other threats in her ear that she couldn't hear over the mess that was happening. Cierra turned her head to see what the latest status on the other part of the fight, hoping that maybe luck would strike her a second time. The other strange was no where in site. Was he dead? Was the hunter dead and he tried to make a get away. A fill of concern came for the hunter, but her panic was slowly overcoming that concerned feeling. No one would notice now. When she heard a 'hey' loudly in the crowd, she too turned her head to see who was saying something, only be squeaking when the sound of a bullet came. She shut her eyes as if it were a bad dream, then felt the grip on her release. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw the warlock, dead, shot right between the eyes.
Though the guy was probably going to do awful things to her, but she still cringed when she saw the blood starting to come out. It was like a nightmare she couldn't stop. The hunter moved toward her and moved her out, but she was still a little shocked to move quite properly. Once she entered the night air, it was like escaping a small room she had been in for years and years and entering the outside world. A cold air was moving gently, and it helped her. Her hand went up on her head and she felt herself panting. Why was she panting? She looked over at the hunter very cautiously. It didn't look like he knew. What she knew of hunters was the rumors she heard. Stuff like 'they'll kill you at first sight' and 'no mercy' so wouldn't he have killed her already? Not bothering to usher her out of the room? It didn't fit together. Cierra was better at blending in.
Her mind was also a little in shock. She had never seen anyone die in front of her eye before. The warlock may have been a creepy jerk, but it was frightning to see him die! Her big eyes shakily looked over at the hunter, wondering what to say next. A part of her wanted to say thank you, but the other part overrided her. So what to be a 'thank you' ended up as a very confused, "What just happened?" She asked, surprised to see how shaken her voice sounded. For a moment, she thought of a question she probably should have asked to begin with. "Who were they? Who are you?" She took two steps back, wondering how many weapons she had on him. They had started quite a riot. The police were going to show up any moment. She felt like she didn't want to take a foot outside by herself again. WONDERIN WHY YOU CAN'T FIGURE ME OUT [/color][/size] with a change i call the names[/font] [/center]
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Post by CASON FLYNN ELLERY on Jul 7, 2011 3:08:35 GMT
Despite her panicked thoughts, the young woman had no reason to worry that she'd been discovered by the hunter. As far as he was concerned she was no different than any of the other humans there in the bar and quite honestly hadn't given a second thought about whether she could be anything else. Not yet at least. The two creatures he was currently fighting were enough to occupy his mind at that point. This was most certainly not how he'd planned things to end up when it came to finally confronting the two supernatural beings whose movements he'd been tracking for the past few weeks. Preferrably he would have followed them back to whatever place it was they called home and then quietly taken care of them in the middle of the night, with little fuss and less risk of anyone else getting wind of things. And by anyone else he meant every other human who lived in blissful ignorance of just what the shared their lovely little city with every day.
However, he was a fairly flexible sort of guy and when those plans had been derailed he was more than capable of improvising. Honestly he wasn't normally the sort of person to interfere when scenarios of this sort occured, but there had been something about the girl who found herself the unfortunate victim of the drunken creature's advances. Cas couldn't even really place his finger on just what that something was but whatever it was it had brought him to his feet and thus started a mini riot inside the fairly crowded club. It was situations like this when he always wished he'd drug Sam along. Lord knew he certainly could have used the back up right about then. And if there was one person you wanted to have your back in a fight it was Samuel Holbrook. Unfortunately for Cas his best friend and fellow hunter was no where near this particular location tonight.
The fact that the warlock was more interested in taking Cierra instead of helping his werewolf buddy take out the hunter helped out quite a bit really, not that the poor girl probably would have thought of it in that way. Without even stopping to take a second to enjoy the perfection that was the shot he just fired, Cas was herding the girl towards the door, practically doing the walking for the both of them. The jolt of fresh air as they stepped outside seemed to bring her out of the shocked stupor the previous events had left her in but she was still looking rather stunned to say the least.
Glancing over his shoulder, Cas continued at a quick pace across the parking lot, still ushering her along with him despite the very wary looks she was now giving him. He couldn't say he blamed her for them considering the fact that he'd just stabbed a man and shot another in the head without batting so much as an eyelash. The shaky sound of her voice brought his gaze sideways towards her, expecting the questions but not really having the time just then to answer them in depth. Having reached his truck, a large black older style GMC, he pulled open the driver's side door. "I'll explain once we're outta here," he informed her briefly, turning to usher her inside the cab only to see her take a couple steps back, looking almost as afraid of him as she had of the previous two men.
Tucking the pistol back into the waistband of his jeans he raised his hands out slowly to show her he wasn't a threat. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I swear. But it's really important we get out of here right now," He lowered his voice, doing his best to sound reassuring. As if on cue the exit door they had just come out of flew open and the werewolf burst into the parking lot. It took the man only a second to spot them and he let out a snarl like string of curses before running towards them as best as his injured leg would allow. "In the truck, now!" he barked out at Cierra, not bothering to wait for a response before basically physically lifting her towards the seat, sliding onto the driver's seat after her.
Jamming the key into the ignition, he started the machine with a rumble before shoving the gear stick into reverse and causing the tires to squeal against the pavement as he slammed the gas pedal down to the floor. He was hoping like crazy that the knife wound would prevent the man from changing or else things were gonna get a lot more interesting real quick like. Hitting the street, he threw the stick into drive, not looking back as he pealed down the thankfully empty street.
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tag Cierra!! <3 words 810 notes Just for fun HERE is a pic of Cas's truck. And yes, that is the truck John Winchester drives in Supernatural. <333 Thought it was fitting for my boy, hehe. Oh, and I left it open for if you want the werewolf to chase them down or just let it go at that. =) credit t to the illy @ caution 2.0
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Post by cierra on Jul 7, 2011 4:33:59 GMT
OUTFITMY MOUTH SOMEHOW FORGETS TO WORK [/color][/font] so i stare until you shout[/center] Where were they going? She was wanting to head home, which happened to be the other direction then he was leading her. Was there a large target painted on her forehead that night? She hadn't gotten this much attention before! Why was it now with? Though panic was still rising in her chest, it was quite a different and slower rising panic than with the other guy. The stranger was a hunter, but she did feel safer with him than going back into that bar. In fact, she felt safter with this stranger than heading home alone. Still, it would be nice if her questions were answered. Looking around, she discoverd that he was moving her around cars in the parking lot. There wasn't a lot of cars parked here since most people that wanted to leave had left already and the others probably walked here planning to get drunk. Her high heeled shoes made it difficult for her to match his quick hurried pace, but she did the best she could.
Later!? She had to bite her bottom lip not to ask anymore questions. As much as she was afraid of him at the moment, it appeared he was going to help her. She saw how quickly he had killed that warlock. If he knew she was a supernatural, then why bring her this far? The gun was still in his hand at that moment. Her pace managed to back up very slowly, watching the gun and not even seeing his face. However, as they approached the truck, he tucked it back in it's proper place then gestured her to hop into the truck. For a moment, she pondered. Was now a good time to flee? While he was going away. She wasn't going to try to outrun a truck, but she did see a high ledge where a truck would have a hard time getting up quickly. Once again, she faced the feet planted into the ground. Cierra was overthinking the problem. Her hands were sweaty from the tension and being held by strangers. She wanted to wake up. This nightmare was coming to life in front of her eyes. "I-" But she was cut off.
A large bang came out from behind her. She jerked her head around toward the exit door so hard that it actually hurt her neck. Her large innocent eyes grew wide with fear as she saw the other partener coming after them. She assumed he was dead, but here he was, chasing after with such fury and anger that she barely noticed Cas moving toward her. The stare was broken when he snapped. She bit her bottom lip down harder. Cierra didn't take to any snapping well. It didn't pass her mind that he was only doing this because of the high pressured situation. Any yell, nessasary or not, was quite frightning to her. She physically cringed, but not until she was lifted into the high truck. Even if she had hopped into the truck to begin with, there was probably no way she could have gotten in there swiftly. Her eyes darted around, trying to get her surroundings, but all she recieved was that it only fit three people total. Driver, middle, and on the other side of the door.
A tire squealed below her that she wasn't quite prepared for. Her body was thrust forward from the sudden jerk of the backward moving truck. Since she had been sitting on her knees trying to inspect everything, she slid easily down off the seat and thrashed her head against the glovebox all in one very swift, very quick movement. Oh god this was so typical. In a stranger's truck running away from another stranger (probably a supernatural if the hunter had been originally hunting him down) and she managed to slam her head against something hard to make her vision dizzy. As quickly as she could without falling again, she got back up on the seat and grabbed the seat and the door as tight as she could. He did a little more thrusts around to land on the street. Her eyes went to the review mirror and saw that the angry supernatural was falling behind and eventually out of sight. No one was really on the streets this late at night, so they were alone on the road.
Though they weren't thrusting around anymore, she was still grabbing hard on the seat and door. Her heard throbbed, making her eyes water. Cierra hated pain. She had to accept it as apart of life, but all the same, she hated it. It's why she stayed away from people. Stay away from any mental pain. Her family gave her plenty of both, so she always had to brace herself before visiting them. Without mentally bracing herself she was lost. Like in that scenario, she failed miserably to physical prepare herself for the small car chasing scene and slammed her head. With a shaking hand, she lifted the hand from the seat and brought it to her forehead. No signs of blood so far. She felt like such an idiot. That's what he had to be thinking. Who did that? Who made a situation like that just worst. She felt like exclaming and answering her own thoughts in a large groan, but she was afraid that would leave quite a bit of alarm from Cason. Probably annoyance on top of that.
Despite the blow to the head, a slow realization of what was happening was coming to her. She was in a truck. A large old truck (beautiful, but judging on the built of the exterior, older) that looked like it was owned by a guy, though did just save her life, also shot the guy without a thought at all. Her blurred vision looked over at her hand, seeing that she was shaking. There, at least her body had some sort of reasonable reaction. "Now," She said, feeling that the words were coming a lot harder than they should have. It was as if there was something stuck deep within her throat that was keeping her from speaking. The urge to clear her throat came, but she refused. "Can you tell me what's going on? Who were they? Did... did you know them?" God please say yes, she thought silently, shooting random strangers seems like a bizzare hobby The guy had been a creep, but Cierra didn't think he deserved death! Prison bars, not a bullet planted in his skull. Either way she put it, this man still saved her life. WONDERIN WHY YOU CAN'T FIGURE ME OUT [/color][/size] with a change i call the names[/font] [/center]
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Post by CASON FLYNN ELLERY on Jul 8, 2011 3:42:56 GMT
It was rather obvious that the poor girl was beyond terrified of this whole situation. Cas could practically smell the fear radiating off of her, not to mention the way she kept darting her eyes back and forth or the shaky sound of her breathing. And while it was certainly a justifiable fear the hunter was more concerned with making sure they both made it out of this place alive than pausing to try and reassure her like some people might have been likely to do. As far as he was concerned he was still on a job and she just happened to be an unfortunate victim in the aftermath. Which meant explanations would not be coming until he felt sufficiently secure enough in the fact that they weren't going to be mauled and then killed by an raging werewolf. Practical as always, that was Cason Ellery the hunter.
So as frightend as she might have been at the moment there was no time for it, not as far as he was concerned. However, her sudden hesitance to follow him towards the truck did prompt the concealing of the gun, an action that he had hoped might cajole her into moving just a little faster along with a quick bit of verbal reassurance. Neither act had the desired effect, if anything, she looked about ready to flee the scene which was the absolute last thing he wanted her to do. The slam of the door brought her gaze abruptly away from him, a fact he used to his advantage to get her into the truck. The effect his tone had on her went unnoticed by the young man but even if he had seen it he wouldn't have given it a second thought just then. He wasn't purposely trying to be a heartless bastard but staying alive was more of a priority at the moment than worrying about feelings.
The poor girl was barely in the seat before he slammed his foot on the gas pedal, an action that he probably should have at least warned her was coming. Even in the chaos of the moment he saw, or rather heard, the sound of her head as it slammed against the glovebox, a fact that registered briefly in his mind and caused him to wince mentally. She rebounded quickly enough, scrambling back into the seat and wisely holding on with what could only be described as a death grip, weathering the next few jerking movements much better than the first. With plenty of open road in front of them it didn't take long to put some distance between the truck and parking lot and Cas felt a sense of relief at the empty road behind them. If the werewolf had been able to change he would have done it by this point.
Still, Cas didn't let up on the gas pedal much, preferring to put as much distance between them and the bar as quickly as possible. For a few long moments there was silence in the cab as Cas continued to focus intently on the road ahead of them and the scene in his rearview mirror, still on edge it would seem. Not until she spoke up beside him did he jerk his gaze away from both views, glancing sidelong at her. He supposed she had a right to an explanation at this point. He certainly would have been demanding one himself had the tables been turned. His eyes flicked briefly towards the rearview mirror once more before he replied slowly, "The guys back there were a couple of wanted men," True enough. "I've been tracking them for a month or so now so yeah, I guess you could say I knew them,"
This was were things could get a little tricky. As far as he knew she had no idea just what exactly those two men had truly been or what they could have potentionally done to her. So explaining just what had gone down and why he'd acted as he had was a bit difficult to say the least. "I was hoping they wouldn't do anything stupid but that didn't happen which is why you are now here with me in my truck," Glancing at her again, his gaze softened ever so slightly, even hinting slightly at concern for a moment. "Sorry about the sudden exit. You alright?" The matter of fact tone was replaced briefly with a softer sounding voice, still deep but not as terse as it had been thus far. That was Cason Ellery, the human being.
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tag Cierra!! <3 words 761 notes <3333333333 credit t to the illy @ caution 2.0
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Post by cierra on Jul 8, 2011 5:29:51 GMT
OUTFITMY MOUTH SOMEHOW FORGETS TO WORK [/color][/font] so i stare until you shout[/center] Though her head still pounded with a pulse, she figured that if something hadn't happened, that wouldn't have been the only injury. Just the thought of it made her cringe and want to whimper a little, but her thoughts were in about five different places at the same time. Most of it was filled with tons of questions. She didn't want to upset this guy at any costs. Naturally she was a bit of a people pleaser, but a man with a gun could get a lot more words and actions across than one without. With that, her childish imagination started to run in circles. Her thoughts were starting as man with a grudge, to assassin, all the way down to Is he in the mob?. With a look over to him, she threw the very distract conclusions out of her head. She was thinking this all wrong. Cierra knew why those men were killed. Between her bashed head and her paniced thoughts, the obvious logial reasoning came very slow to her. Even if it was information she already knew. It was as if it temporarly left her mind.
Though there was no one around them, she saw that his speed hadn't decreased since they got out of there. Cierra was almost too afraid to see how fast they were going. The bar disappeared without seconds of speeding down on the road. They were safe from the guy running from them. Another question that popped into her head was finally another rational one. Where were they going? As far as the bar as possible sure, but where was that? Her place happened to be in the other direction. She couldn't tell where she was or how to get back to her little apartment. With a sigh, she couldn't help but feel she might have to follow her nose. Her sense of smell was heightened because of her dog senses, but she was by far no hound. The feeling of a lost puppy creeped up on her and she couldn't help but shiver. There was a bit of relief when he started to explain.
It was in a very professional tone, as if he did it all the time. He probably did. Cierra was hoping for something a little more specific, but she figured it was a good cover. The cover made her relax, seeing that he thought she was an oblivious human. Now the trouble part was that Cierra was such a terrible liar. It could easily been written all over her face, but as long as he didn't ask or imply, there was no way she could lie. Looking back, though she couldn't see it anymore, she could see how easily a wanted men story sounded. For all Cierra knew, they really could be wanted men, and he was just doing his job as a hunter. It was easy enough to believe seeing as they way they acted. Still, you think a couple of wanted men would be brought to trial not laying on the cold ground lifeless and dead. However, he contiuned to explain that. Cierra, despite the danger she was potientially in, relaxed. Her head was still pounding, but the rest of her body was coming with ease.
It was still on high alert though, senses all pitched up a notch. A couple of other questions were forming in her head, but there was two above all else she thought needed to be answered. She opened her mouth to ask them then thought she should at least show some graditude instead of pesturing like an ungreatful child. "Uh, t-thank you." She told him, her voice a little shaky for some odd reason or another. "But... where exactally am I going? And with who?" She asked, giving her two questions, promsing herself she would sit tight and shut up after this. It was amazing she hadn't burst into tears yet, as that's what usually happened when she was in fear for her life. Cierra must have not been as scared as she thought. Though she did remember her eyes watering back at the bar, but now they were watering with the impact of the blow to the head.
Sudden, the professional voice softened and she couldn't help but look over at the driver with bright eyes. His look was still hard, but it didn't have quite the edge she had seen previously. Her hand went back up to her head to find with great disappointment that she was bleeding. Nope. Things could get worst. However, she didn't want to make him do even more. Having a hysterical girl in his passenger's seat who was bugging him with questions was probably enough without having her bleeding. She took the sleeve of her black coat- sad to ruin it- and covered up the place where she felt blood starting to come from her head. Her fingers just barely and lightly touched her head, only wincing back. It didn't feel like it was too bad, but above five minutes ago it hadn't been bleeding. Looking out the opposite window with her coat sleeve pressed against the top of her head, she lied pathetically, "I'm fine." Boo, she really wished she could have lied better. Maybe it was enough. The words were fine, not shaky, but her body language was all wrong. Maybe he could be watching the road... she wanted to look over to see if he noticed, but she was frozen, looking at the quick buildings passing by. WONDERIN WHY YOU CAN'T FIGURE ME OUT [/color][/size] with a change i call the names[/font] [/center]
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Post by CASON FLYNN ELLERY on Jul 10, 2011 21:54:19 GMT
This whole affair had taken a rather sharp turn away from what Cas had originally had in mind. The most he'd expected to have happen tonight was watching the two supernatural drunks sit around the bar until they got bored and decided to wander their way back to whatever place they were calling home at the moment. Just keeping tabs pretty much, that was it. And then the shit had hit the fan so to speak and that nicely wrapped little agenda had been thrown out the window. The hunter was quite adept at rolling with the punches (it sort of came with the territory), however, this new addition to his normal party of one was definitely not something he was accustomed to dealing with. Aside from Sam (and occasionally Jude) he worked alone and preferably in very secluded places where the general public was not likely to be found. Mainly because it was the easiest way to keep someone from finding out something that would most likely freak them out and also because it reduced the chance of people becoming innocent victims.
Like the poor girl in the passenger seat of his truck. Quietly sitting at the bar minding her own business before being swept up into a situation that was much more dangerous than she probably would ever know. She was probably just as scared of him as she'd been of the warlock, at least that's what he assumed from the frightened and suspicious looks she had been giving him since they got into the truck. Not that he blamed for feeling that way either. He had just stabbed a guy and shot another one execution style right in front of her. Not exactly a reassuring first impression to say the least. His relative lack of explanation thus far was probably not helping much either but the hunter was hardly a chatty cathy when he was relaxed let alone when every nerve was on edge and adrenaline was still coursing through his veins.
The farther down the road they went though those feelings had eased ever so slightly and allowed for a fairly calm, if not very matter of fact explantion of just what had gone down back at the bar to pass through his lips. Thankfully she seemed to take his words and accept them as truth, partial though it might have been and even appeared to be somewhat calmer now. Her slightly shaky thanks he took in silently, not really feeling as if he needed or deserved the sentiment seeing as he hadn't been able to finish the job. Loose ends were not something he was accustomed to leaving behind and he didn't tolerate that sort of mistake with others let alone himself. Not that she could have known that and was simply expressing gratitude for him saving her from the warlock's advances. A brief sidelong glance was given at the two following queries she posed to him, logical ones though he wasn't sure how well she'd like the answer to the first. "It's Cason or Cas, whatever trips your trigger," Glancing once again in the rearview mirror, he added smoothly, "And we're going back to my place,"
It was stated somewhat finally, as if there was really no other option, which, in Cas's mind there was not. She could protest all she wanted (which was highly likely) but if there was one thing the hunter was it was stubborn. As far as he knew the werewolf was still out there and wounded or not he would be on their trail sooner or later. Likely sooner and Cas wasn't about to waste time traveling all around the city when they were already half way to his own apartment. She seemed susprised when he asked if she was alright, aiming a quick look towards him before reaching hesitantly to touch her fingers against her forehead. In the dim light of the truck's cab he couldn't see her forehead clearly before she averted her gaze to look out the window beside her, her arm still resting against her head as she assured him she was fine.
Fine his ass.
"You're not a very good liar," he returned bluntly, though not harshly, glancing at her briefly as she continued to look out the window. Reaching inside his jacket he pulled out a folded handkerchief which he held out to her. "Here. It's clean, I promise," Perfect gentleman he was not, but he wasn't completely heartless thank you very much.
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tag Cierra!! <3 words 748 notes <3333333333 credit t to the illy @ caution 2.0
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Post by cierra on Jul 11, 2011 3:21:42 GMT
OUTFITMY MOUTH SOMEHOW FORGETS TO WORK [/color][/font] so i stare until you shout[/center] It just occured to her. Did she still have her phone? Slowly, as not to look urgent in doing so, she patted the pockets of her jacket. Not there. Her eyes glanced down to where she fell and saw nothing. God, it could have dropped out of her pocket anywhere. Still, this wasn't a large deal. Mostly because Cierra didn't really have anyone to call. The one person in her phone that she thought she'd need to try to find is Vi's, her best friends. The person that had showed her up tonight wasn't going to get much else. It was her fault, after all, that Cierra was in the mist of all of this. Her family was also programmed in the phone, but considering she tried to avoid them as much as she could without getting them too upset, she thought it was a good thing. It gave her an excuse for not being able to make contact over the past weeks. That was one good thing. Still, if something horribly bad happened, she wouldn't be able to call, say, the police, but she figured it was a little late for that, for she'd have to explain everything. Nothing was going to piss a hunter more than turning him in, right?
He seemed very quiet. No, that wasn't really the word. More like he used as least words as possible to get his point across. Despite her questions, he was very brief and didn't use any explaning words. Cierra didn't want to ask too many questions before she became an annoying nag. Not to mention that once you got her starting to talk, the tricky part would be getting her to shut up. She was quite aware of this flaw, so liked to make sure that she didn't get rolling. Cierra needed to do more of what he was doing. Still, she liked to explain things in vivid details so no one was confused. It made for a good story teller, but it made for awfuly long stories. He answered the second question with his name. Cas. Cierra would have to use Cason. She felt strange using a nickname when they were only strangers. For a moment, she brightened, as when she met a name she liked, she did that. The little things seemed to enjoy her. Names were one of them.
For a moment, she wondered if she should say her own name. It was only natural but at the same time, he didn't ask. Nor did it look like he really cared. Though with more road they were taking together, she was relaxing, she wasn't relaxing at the point where she wasn't watching what she said. Cierra usually never did stop watching what she said, but now it was like a life versus death if she didn't. However, before she could fully decide, he told her where they were going and her eyes widened. His place... fantastic she thought with sarcasm, but at the same time, terrified. It was probably better than searching the entire city for somewhere she was fimilar with. It also occured to her with a hint of pink rising in her cheeks that she hadn't spent the night at a guy's house before. Not unless the moment where she lived with her boyfriend counted against her. It was a little embarassing to be that age and still feel that way, which was the reason for the pink cheeks.
Wait, before she jumped to conclusions, was she spending the night? There could be a well chance he'd drop her off somewhere near by. Or a hotel. She wanted to hit herself in the head for coming up with a conclusion without anything else, but her head was pounding enough as it was. A hit on the head might very well make her whimper in pain. She hated pain. She couldn't even take shoes that hurt her feet. Some girls sacrificed themselves, like waxing and plucking, to look good, but Cierra couldn't go through that. That's why she thought she was pretty ordinary. She glanced over at Cason, who still looked as alert as she felt. Perhaps she really should say her name. If he gave her his, she might as well be called something. She wasn't tempted for any nickname he might come up with. At the very least, she might be 'you' if he ever needed to get her attention. With a large gulp, she said, "I'm Cierra." There, it was out there. He could react whatever he wanted with.
Shoot, he didn't buy it at the least. She sighed with annoyance, but not at him, but herself. Why couldn't she be an easy smooth talker like her brother? Or as strong as her sister. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten into this. Fought the warlock off and high tail it out of there. Alas, she was stuck with herself and her paniced frozen fear. "I know." She groaned, long and drown out, adding, "Sometimes my lies are ignored." Actually, she was just kind of ignored in general and if she happened to lie and ignored, it was just because it was Cierra. Her large eyes then looked back to see he was offering something. Delicately, she picked the soft fabric of a handkerchief out of his hand. The ultimate weapon of a princess trying to impress the knight by dropping it in front of him. Blinking at it, she said rather pathetically, "But I'll get it all bloody." It was only when she said it did she realize how ridiculous that sounded, so she sighed and very slowly brought her sleeve off, wincing at the movement. Her vision was starting to become dizzy at the sight of her sleeve being darkened by her only blood. Gulping, she placed Cason's offer to her forehead and winced, but not as badly. It was a lot softer, but she really did feel bad about ruining it. Cierra had to be a pain already, and now she was just ruining his stuff because of her own stupidity. With the diziness, she placed the side of her head against the window. It vibrated with the shaking of the truck, but it couldn't be in any more pain than she was feeling already. Only her facial expression showed it. WONDERIN WHY YOU CAN'T FIGURE ME OUT [/color][/size] with a change i call the names[/font] [/center]
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Post by CASON FLYNN ELLERY on Jul 12, 2011 22:14:41 GMT
The young woman was really taking this whole thing much better than Cas had thought she would. He'd pretty much expected to be cussed out and quite possibly attacked once they were on their way down the road and the panic had settled down enough for her to realized just what the hell was happening. Apparently that either hadn't happened yet or she was just the type who froze in high stress situations. The hunter was prepared though, just in case she decided to pull some sort of escape or take over of this old truck of his. Considering his advantage in the strength and weight area though that wouldn't have been a smart idea on her part and since she wasn't attempting any sort of movement at all he figured it probably wasn't likely. When the only other young woman you were close to was certifiably crazy and would definitely try and take the wheel from you while you were driving you tended to think of even the most ridiculous of possibilities.
It really didn't matter that she couldn't find her cell phone as he would have snatched the little device away and broken it most likely if she'd tried to use it. Thus, leaving her with no way to communicate with anyone else either way. The last thing he needed was her calling the cops and getting him thrown in jail. Then he'd have to call Sam and go through all the hassle of getting bailed out which was not something he wanted to deal with right now. He knew he wasn't going to hurt her; the trick was trying to get her to understand that too. He hoped the fact that he'd rescued her from a less than savory situation back in the bar would be worth something as far as showing his motives for this impromptu kidnapping. His brief explanation seemed to begin to calm her a bit, at least judging from her slightly less panicked expression.
Surprisingly she didn't respond when he told her their destination, though he noticed her squirm slightly in the seat which told him she probably wasn't too keen on the idea. He gave her credit though for not freaking out at the notion. Heck, she hadn't even burst into tears yet which was comendable in itself. Crying women were hardly his forte and Cas normally prefered to just not have to deal with that sort of thing. Not that she wouldn't have been justified if she had started bawling but he was still glad that had yet to happen. And then oh so quietly she stated her name, maybe feeling as if she should because he'd said his. Cierra. A pretty name and one he stored in that mental file of his even though he knew he wouldn't forget it. Names and faces were something he was good with and rarely forgot. Yet another skill that made him as good of a hunter as he was.
A sigh blew from her lips at his remark concerning her rather futile attempt at lying, followed by a seemingly frustrated groan as she acknowledged that fact. Clearly she wasn't used to people paying what she said all that much attention if she thought the words would have passed his inspection without being caught. She seemed slightly surprised when he held out the handkerchief towards her, but took the item carefully even as she commented that she'd get it bloodied. For the first time a soft chuckle vibrated in his throat, amusement in his green eyes as he glanced briefly towards her. "That's kind of the point. Besides, it's just a handkerchief, no big deal if it gets a little blood on it," Another quick glance was shot her way as she lowered her arm to place the square of cloth against her forehead, noticing the slight wince and subsequent resting of her head against the window. "I'll get it cleaned up for you when we get back to my house," he told her softly. Whether or not that would be something that was even remotely reassuring to the young woman was debatable but true nonetheless.
The remainder of the drive was finished in relative silence before he finally slowed the truck to pull into the driveway of a small house, not necessarily the newest looking home but it was taken care of and landscaped somewhat decently. More importantly the rent was cheap and he didn't have to worry about sharing an apartment building with a bunch of other people this way. Shifting into park he got out of the vehicle before crossing around the front end to open her door, glancing around carefully all the while. Helping her navigate the fairly large drop to the ground he shut the door behind her before guided her towards the house where he quickly unlocked the door and ushered her inside. Closing it as soon as they were both inside he took a quick second to secure the three different locks before flipping on the light switch on the wall beside the door. Illuminated by the warm glow it was definitely a man's home, with your basic furniture and minimal decoration. Not necessarily off putting just not quite as homey as one might expect.
The front door led into the kitchen and he pulled out one of the chairs at the table for her. "Have a seat and I'll take a look at that cut," he instructed, getting right down to things as per usual. Shrugging out of his heavy jacket he hung it over the back of another chair before heading out of the kitchen and down the short hallway to the bathroom. Flicking on the light he was greeted by the sight of his features in the mirror, eye narrowing slightly as he noticed the good sized cut above his left eyebrow. It wasn't really bleeding too badly and therefore he ignored it for the time being, opening up the medicine cabinet to grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a small first aid kit. Returning to the kitchen with those items in hand he set them on the table beside her and rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt to just below his elbows. "Ready?" he questioned, eying her carefully.
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tag Cierra!! <3 words 1,044 notes <3333333333 credit t to the illy @ caution 2.0
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Post by cierra on Jul 13, 2011 5:31:23 GMT
OUTFITMY MOUTH SOMEHOW FORGETS TO WORK [/color][/font] so i stare until you shout[/center] Cierra was wondering why this quite hadn't sunk in yet. She wasn't the one to spazz out, but she wasn't even shaking as much anymore. Most of the time, she would probably be in tears. The only tears she wanted to cry was the pain she was feeling from her head. Despite going to a stranger's house and having no idea what was happening next, all she could think of was what might have happened if he hadn't came in. Even in her innocent mind, she could picture a little bit. The rest of it was too unbarable to tihnk about. Whatever she was going to go through tonight, she was sure it was better than what her luck would have been with the warlock. Still, it also didn't mean that the night was going to be happy and cheery for her as well. At the same time, if he wanted to do something to her, he would have already done it. There was also no signs in him whats so ever. She'd probably cry later. It was still too fresh in her mind at that moment.
Cierra turned toward him so that her hair bounced off of her face when he chuckled at her. Was she that amusing? He seemed to be quite alright with it blooded. She had the thought that they were intended for sneezing and cough. Like one's personal napkin to wander around. Not as a temporary bandaid for the girl who liked to make situations worst. He said my place and she twitched with uncomfort again. It was still strange to be going there. It was logical, but Cierra was by no means in her right mind at that moment. Her head was still racing, her heart still found it was pounding, and she was starting to get hot from the nervousness of it all. Everything told her to take off her jacket and cool off, but since she was also shivering a little bit she gripped onto the jacket. She also didn't dare take off what was on her head, resting and stop the blood from coming down too awful fast.
Looking out the window, she felt more lost than ever. She wasn't even sure if she had been on this side of town before. Cierra liked to limit herself to what she was fimilar with. The house was small, but tidy. It looked perfect for one or two people, enough room for company and guests but a third living there looked like it would push it. Some houses were, however, small until you walked inside of it and it showed a much more massive interior. Her eyes glanced around to see if any other cars were parked around. Didn't seem like it. Must live alone. She was helped out of the car, her boot heels clashing loudly with the ground. The first thing she was going to do was take off the shoes. Cierra would go barefoot if she could. As much as she cared about the way her shoes looked, she hated them. Looking around in the dead of night, she stuck close to Cason, being a little bit paranoid about what might pop out. There was no way she could possibly make a break for it.
The house was lit and as he sat her on a chair, she had a small chance to look around at the house. It was certaintly much bigger than she was use to. Her apartment was small and crowded, even though one person lived there. It was like it was a kitchen, bedroom, and living room almost in one entire room. One of the reasons for her not having pets- besides that the owner wouldn't allow one- was that she knew how miserable it would be during the day in the small cramped space. She couldn't give it that kind of life. If a pet was going to be involved, she wanted to spoil it rotten. Even though it would be odd caring for a pet, considering she, herself, was considered an animal. She would have to make sure she was in human form the entire time. Especially if it was a dog. The thought of her taking care of a dog was strange. It would have to be a cat. Not even a cat could live comfortably in the space though.
For the house being the size it was, there was no decoration whats so ever. Her aunt and uncle's house from the exterior almost looked like a giant version of this house, though the inside was completely opposite. They had all the latest fashion modern decors, matching everything without a spot or stain in sight. Personally, Cierra wasn't too found of that. A house should feel cozy, not a peice to be displayed. She wasn't sure if this home classified so far as cozy, but it was nice and simple. Cierra might have looked around a little more if the twinge of pain didn't happen from a simple turn of her head. It was starting to descrease, but she felt the gross sticky blood starting to glob in her hair. The handkerchief had been incredibly useful, but the way home had started to slim it's full uses. As if on cue, Cason came in with some things in his hand.
Cierra's eyes got big and looked at him, seeing from this close that his eyes were a very interesting green. They had looked very dark forest green from far away, but up close was like they had turned a shade lighter. He was also partly injured as well, and guilt pricked at her, as he might have done it more smoothly if she hadnt' been there in the first place. That, however, didn't take her focus on for too awful long. She knew it would hurt. It hurt just by itself and now stinging of cleaning the wound would happen. She was also not looking forward to embarassing herself on how much of a wimp she was. She didn't get beatings when she was younger. Yelling at her to be stronger had been enough to make the tears run. Now her eyes glistened pleading him not to, answering him with a long no, I'm not ready. Still, she knew in her mind, it would have to be done. It would feel better if she did. It was hard to convince her that. All Cierra wanted was for all this to go away. Her eyes still locked on him, she whispered in a voice barely above a whisper, "Uh huh." She felt like she was five again. Cierra was acting like a child and she knew it. Yet, with all her mind battlings, couldn't bring herself to act otherwise. Which was ever so frustrating. If her sister had this happen, she would have probably delt with the head herself with a straight face the entire time. Why couldn't she be more like that? WONDERIN WHY YOU CAN'T FIGURE ME OUT [/color][/size] with a change i call the names[/font] [/center]
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Post by CASON FLYNN ELLERY on Jul 14, 2011 3:55:47 GMT
Like most of the male persuasion Cason hardly gave two thoughts to the lack of decoration in his home. As long as he had a bed to sleep in, a couch to sit on, a kitchen table to eat at and a refrigerator and microwave he was fine. Granted he had a little more than that here but as far as the little things, like pictures on the wall and little knick knacks went there was really nothing of the sort. I suppose you could say it needed a women's touch or something of that sort. It served the purpose of giving him a roof over his head and that was all that mattered to the young man. Half the time he wasn't here anyway, either off hunting something through all hours of the night or crashing at a friend's if he was a little farther out of town. Whether or not the young woman would be turned off by the very male vibe of the interior he couldn't say neither did he really care. What mattered was that she'd be safe here which was the most important thing, at least to his mind.
And to her credit she was really being quite cooperative thus far, not putting up any sort of fuss or protesting a single word he said. That in itself was enough to win her points with the hunter even though he really hadn't stopped long enough yet to make any sort of judgements about her or her personality. Her actions though were making this whole situation easier to deal with than if she'd been fighting every inch of the way and demanding to know every little detail as to what was happening and what was going to happen. Not that she probably didn't want to know those exact things but she seemed able and willing to go with the flow for a while at least. She'd sat down in the chair he indicated obediently, though it was probably done more out of necessity than actual submission. He had felt the way her frame had been trembling as he'd helped her out of his truck and half expected her knees to give way when she'd hit the gravel, especially with the heels she was wearing.
The inside was definitely not any more roomy than what the outside suggested, which meant that his trip down the hall to the bathroom wasn't one that took very long. Some might have called the place cramped but for a single guy it was pretty much perfect. A great starter house for a young couple or something wouldn't even have been too much of a stretch either. Add a baby and you might be reaching the maximum capacity but seeing as he had no ideas or delusions of doing either such thing that reallly didn't matter now did it?
She was still sitting there just as quietly as before when he returned though she'd lowered the handkerchief from her forehead to reveal the nasty little cut she'd sustained in the quick exit at the bar. The bleeding appeared to have pretty much stopped by this point, thanks to the handkerchief but it definitely needed taken care of to ensure it'd heal up properly. The dark red of the blood contrasted against the pale hue of her skin, making her suddenly look extremely vulnerable just then. Big brown eyes were aimed up at him upon his return, a slightly fearful glimmer in them almost. Clearly she wasn't looking forwards to this bit of doctoring he was about to perform on her, not that he could really blame her either. Obviously it was going to be painful that was unavoidable. Having done this sort of thing on himself plenty of times before Cas was quite used to the sting of the rubbing alcohol. It was just something you gritted your teeth against and dealt with as part of the healing process.
Walking back into the kitchen he'd been fully prepared to approach this with the same sort of attitude, up until she'd looked up at him with those big brown eyes practically pleading with him not to. Now Cason Ellery was rarely the sort of person who let himself be swayed by his emotions, mostly because he couldn't afford to be, not in his line of work. And most of the time that wasn't really a problem. But in this moment, staring at a young woman he barely knew, he felt a tug of compassion and his green eyes softened, an action that seemed to be reflected in his entire expression. Despite the very obvious way her expression was screaming 'No I'm not at all ready' she responded with a very quiet 'uh huh' as he proceeded to pull out another chair and sat down in front of her. Opening the first aid kit (which looked as if it got a lot of use), he pulled out a guaze pad before grabbing the bottle of rubbing alcohol and soaking a bit of it with the clear liquid.
"I'll try and make this as quick as possible, ok?" he reassured softly, bringing the gauze up to her forehead and wiping away the dried blood quickly, but quite gently, trying his best not to cause her any more pain than was absolutely necessary. Though not very large the cut was deeper than it looked and seeing as his truck was no where even close to being what you'd call sterile he wanted to make sure he got all the dirt out. Which unfortunately for poor Cierra meant getting the alcohol right in the open gash. "Alright, this is going to hurt like hell for a few seconds," he warned her in advance, grabbing a clean square of guaze and wetting it like the last one. "Grab my hand, the chair, whatever, just try and hold as still as possible," Without giving her any more time to dwell on that fact he pressed the gauze over the cut, letting it sit there for a good five seconds before pulling it back and letting it evaporate while he got out a small aptly named butterfly bandage that was used to hold a cut together in place of stitches.
Placing it gently over the cut, he inspected his work briefly before lowering his eyes to meet her own. "Torture's over," he remarked gently, surprised at how glad he was about that fact himself. It wasn't as if he was squeamish or anything. Hell, he did this sort of thing to himself all the time, not to mention Sam and sometimes Jude after a hunt. For some reason though it was different this time, or maybe she was different, he really didn't know just then.
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tag Cierra!! <3 words 1,124 notes <3333333333 credit t to the illy @ caution 2.0
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Post by cierra on Jul 14, 2011 22:22:12 GMT
OUTFITMY MOUTH SOMEHOW FORGETS TO WORK [/color][/font] so i stare until you shout[/center] For a moment, she swung her legs back and forth at looking around her. It was a lot more open than her place. The most comforting home she had seen had been Vi’s humble abode. Her aunt and uncle’s home, though beautiful, had a cold feeling to it. The same feeling she got when she opened a door to a walk in refrigerator. Still didn’t like wearing shoes in whatever house she was in. So reminding herself of it, she peered down at her black boots. Two days ago they had been adorable. Now she almost hated them. Probably could have sprinted away if she wasn’t in such ridiculousness. The socks under her shoes that couldn’t been seen under the jeans didn’t match. One was a very light pink while the other was a light blue, both had been white when she purchased them. The pair suffered an accidental load of laundry. The reason keeping them was because they were comfortable and wouldn’t be seen with certain shoes in public. Socks were one things she didn’t care about.
She almost leaned over to take them off before he came back in and she straightened up like nothing had happened. Except now was the extremely hard part. Being closer than she had been in the car, she could see that his green eyes softened and realized her expression must have looked like a sad puppy. She nodded briefly, saying he'd be as quick as possible. Cierra figured he would have before, but it was a little reassuring coming out that he was trying to be neat and not cause her more pain than needed. When his hands reached up, she just shut her eyes, as if it would have helped. His expression grimanced when a small sting hit her. The throbbing head didn't seem like a big deal compared to being shot with a very fierce sharp pin-point. It faded a little bit though, only to realize that she hadn't gone through the worst part yet. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see in slow motion his hands with the rubbing alcohol approach like a jaws movie.
At his command, she put one hand on her chair but feeling her torso was too long for her little arms, couldn't reach the other one while staying in the same place. Her other hand reached forward and took the first thing that it met with her eyes closed- which happened to be his hand. She put more of her squeezing pressure on the one with the chair, only using the other one to steady and stiffen around her. Her eyes tightened, feeling the impact and only made a very soft short small noise, but reminded herself the more still and quieter she was, the faster it was over with. The small five seconds, she managed to feel her eyes start to get hot with tears, but the tears were trapped within her eyelids. Cierra refused to let them roll like normal. When she did this to try to stop herself before, they told her to quit, but even if Cas- um, Cason- said something, she probably wouldn't be able to hear from the screaming in her head.
It was over before she had expected, but her eyes still shut for a small bit. Tears were still forming. The hardest part about Cierra's little tear storms was that once started, very hard to stop. Though she did it enough where she was pretty pro at it by now. She hated being such a cry baby. It would all just be better if she could keep a hard face and tell him to bring it on. Cierra was overly thankful that no one else was there. Really, besides the next morning, when was the last time she was going to see him? It made her feel only a little less embarassed. Finally, she thought it was safe to open her eyes and only two tears rolled down her cheeks. One on each side. Just the ones from the beginning that she couldn't quite rid of (no one could make their tears vanish after they came!) Cason had put it in words. Torture's over. That was more dramatic than she needed to make it.
She didn't reach up and brush them away, as that would bring attention to herself. Her hand that use to be resting on the chair felt actually tired. Cierra really wanted to go and hide her face, so she took the opportunity to bring her leg up so that her heel was on the edge, starting to untangle the mess of laces on her shoe. She buried her mouth on her knee, her eyes focusing right on her shoe, not wanting to look at Cason. Yeah, she was embarassed. As she had been close, she remembered he had been a little hurt from the fight, and he certiantly wasn't making a fuss about it. At least she blended in with the fragile human population. A little muffled into her knee, she spoke, "Thank you again." It occured to her that she needed to thank him. Obvioulsy he was going far out of his way after she had ruined his plans. He could have very easily pulled over and tell her to get out and go home. Generally, since thats usually how Cierra was kind of treated, it's what she was expected.
Once both shoes were off of her feet enough to where she could wiggle her toes with a small hint of a smile on her face, she put her feet back down over the stool. Now she was silently thinking. What could she offer him? She wasn't sure what he wanted. Cierra was sure that he could give him something if it was out there. She just couldn't think of anything specific. On top of things, she wasn't sure how to bring it up to him. She couldn't tilt her head at him and ask 'so whatcha want?' He may have been utterly confused from that. Cierra knew she had to do it in a professional manner, as it was professional buisness, but Cierra being professional kind of went together as well as cats and water. Very unsusal and Cierra, quite frankly, sucked at it. Her voice was too full of emotion and her face not brisk enough to carry out the seriousness. Still, an attempt had to be made.
Falling from professional from the start, she spoke with a certain uncertainty, not knowing how to put it, "Cason..." Now that it was a fail, she most awkwardly attempted to finish the statement, "Do you..." then she turned course, "Is there any way I could repay you?" There. That had been simple enough. It floated out of her mouth easier than she had thought. "I mean, my family's got money, connections," Yes, lots of connections. More than once, Cierra was afraid they had those know a guy connections, but she told herself it was just her imagination running wild like normal. "and other things." She added, really only thinking a couple at the top of her head. For a moment, she tried to think of what men liked and wanted. She could get him a new car, but it would be slightly disappointing. Cierra wasn't a 'car' person, but she could still appreciate the black truck she was brought in. What else did men like? Her mind should have thought of this at once, but her innocent mind clamped it shut until she started exploring about what her brother liked that might have in common with the hunter.
Girls. Duh. She surprised herself with the thought and then turned faintly pink. Okay, that was one thing she really could not offer. Anything was going to have to be coming from her family. She'd skip the killing, spending the night, and hunter part, only say the warlock part of the story, him cutting in. Wouldn't be a lie. She could pull off telling only partly of a story. Though they wern't big fans of Cierra, they were of Cierra's virtue (as they were currently husband searching and didn't an even more emotional damage girl). Still, in any motive, a girl wouldnt be something. At the same time, with more blushing from her cheeks as it passed her mind, Cason's looks could get him that on his own. Not to mention that if he softened those eyes like he had before, as they did it with his entire expression, there would probably be fight battles. WONDERIN WHY YOU CAN'T FIGURE ME OUT [/color][/size] with a change i call the names[/font] [/center]
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Post by CASON FLYNN ELLERY on Jul 18, 2011 2:00:30 GMT
Despite her reluctance to go through the process of cleaning the cut on her forehead, Cierra probably couldn't have asked for someone more capable than Cason to do it. He'd lost count of how many times he'd returned home and gone through this little ritual himself. Hazards of the job you could say. It was a rare thing to end a hunt without a few scrapes and bruises to show for it and he had plenty of scars to prove just that, though none too large. A fact he liked to partially attribute to his skills at playing doctor. Granted that first time he'd actually stitched up his own skin had been a little nausea inducing but now it was something he barely batted an eyelash at. Some might wonder why he didn't just go to the hospital and have them do it for you but hospitals weren't known for being cheap and lord knew he wasn't made of money. Plus, he'd have been in the ER way too often to not arouse some sort of suspicion and that was the the last thing he needed to have happen. So far he had yet to be dealt any sort of injury he couldn't handle and if it was not possible for him to do it he knew he could always count on Sam to give him a hand. And as morbid as it might have been he figured if anything more serious were to happen to him he wouldn't make it to a hospital in time anway so that solved that.
As easily as he found it to patch himself up, however, performing the same task on someone else was proving a little more difficult. Not necessarily the job itself seeing as it was not all that difficult of one but more her reaction to it. It would have been fairly accurate to say that Cas was not the most compassionate person on the planet. In fact he tended to have a 'suck it up and deal with it' sort of mentality when it came to most people. However, you would have had to have been a really heartless bastard to not feel some sort of sympathy after being looked at by someone the way the young woman was looking at him. All big brown eyes so full of fear and dread you would have thought he said he was going to cut off her arm rather than simply clean a cut on her forehead. She didn't try and squirm away though, simply squeezing her eyes shut and apparently bracing herself for the inevitable sting that was going to come.
The first bit of course wasn't all that bad and she apparently realized it wasn't over yet, keeping her eyes shut. Her body shifted slightly on the chair as she gripped the side with one hand before he felt her other one grab a hold of his own. It wasn't quite what you'd call a vise-like grip but definitely tight as she clearly prepared for the worst. A small, short little whimper was the only sign she gave that the pain was bothering her, otherwise staying perfectly still and in no time he was finished patching up the gash. Her eyes remained shut for a few seconds after he told her he was done, almost as if she wasn't quite sure she believed him. Only after she finally opened them did he see the tears she'd been valiantly holding back, one falling silently down each side of her face. The unexpected urge to reach up and wipe them away passed through the hunter, surprising him, and he mentally scoffed at himself even as he kept his hands right where they were on his knees.
Obviously feeling self conscious about those tears the young woman busied herself with untying the tangled laces of her boots, bringing the heel up to rest on the edge of the chair. Crumpling up the paper from the band-aid in his hand, he grabbed the bloodied guaze pads as well, tossing them in a small plastic garbage bin before heading to the sink to wash his hands. The knob on the faucet sqeaked slightly as he turned on the hot water, pumping a squirt of soap on his hands as he waited for it to heat up. The drain made a sort of gurgling sound that reminded him he needed to get something to unclog that pipe, glancing down as the water circled slowly out of the sink. There was always something wasn't there? Turning off the faucet he grabbed a towel to dry his hands when the sound of her voice cut into the quiet little kitchen. Though muffled against her knee he understood what she said and gave a slight nod of his head. "Not a problem. It's my fault you got that cut anyway," he returned, tossing the towel onto the counter. "Least I can do is make sure it doesn't get infected,"
Heading back over to the table he started to put the first aid kit back together, but stopped midway after noticing his reflection in the little joke of a mirror in the lid of the kit. Crap. He'd forgotten about that. Normally he would have taken himself off to the bathroom and cleaned up whatever needed looked at in front of the much bigger mirror. However, it didn't feel right just leaving the poor girl to sit there by herself, especially since she hadn't necessarily asked to be brought here in the first place. And besides, everything he needed was already set out right here so without further ado he sat back down in the chair, figuring to make do with the rectangle piece of glass in the first aid kit. Breaking out another guaze pad he followed the same process as he had with Cierra, pausing at the sound of his name as it fell somewhat hesitantly from the girl's lips. An upward quirk of an eyebrow was given as she continued, a brusque shake of his head given followed by a sharp grimace as he pressed the guaze over the cut above his left eye.
"Keep you money or whatever else you have, I don't want it," The sting of the alcohol probably made the words come out a little more clipped than they would have normally, though if there was one thing Cason had it was his pride. He hadn't done what he had back at the bar with the expectation of getting some sort of reward for it. Of course this whole, I don't take help from anybody sort of outlook wasn't always the best way of handling life but the boy was stubborn that much was for sure. Pulling the gauze slowly off of the gash, he inspected it in the little mirror, trying to see if there was any sort of dirt or debris in it still. A slight glance was given towards Cierra as he pulled out a roll of bandage tape, noting the flush to her cheeks and suddenly feel slightly bad for speaking as bluntly as he had a moment ago. "Really, you don't owe me a thing. I'm just sorry you had to get pulled into this whole situation to begin with,"
The words were spoken in a softer tone this time. It was true, he didn't want or expect a thing from her. He was just doing his job, that was it. Peering back into the pathetic excuse for a mirror his forehead furrowed into a slightly frustrated scowl, unable to really tell if it was sufficiently cleaned out or not. Leaning back he glanced over at Cierra again. "Do you mind taking a look to make sure I got this thing clean?" The last thing he needed was a piece of glass embedded in his forehead for the rest of his life.
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tag Cierra!! <3 words 1,315 notes <3333333333 credit t to the illy @ caution 2.0
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Post by cierra on Jul 18, 2011 23:23:50 GMT
OUTFITMY MOUTH SOMEHOW FORGETS TO WORK [/color][/font] so i stare until you shout[/center] Cierra couldn't see how he thought it was his fault. After growing up with the type of family who pointed fingers at everyone- or usually Cierra since they knew she wouldn't speak for herself- it was strange to hear the words 'my fault.' The way she saw it, it wasn't his fault at all. God, if she hadn't been there in the first place. If she had a better balance and not on her knees when he punched the gas trying to save both of their necks, it wouldn't have gotten her cut. How did she even get a cut on the dash board? Something must have been there. Or it had just been Cierra. Any of the explanations, she couldn't wrap her head around the fact that it was his fault. It was as if he had said the sentence in a foregin language, leaving Cierra to look at him curiously and a small mix of confusion.
With a very hesitant hand, she reached up and lightly touched the butterfly bandaid and jerked her hand away. It was no where what the pain had been, but a small sting came, as if her hands were filled with watts of electricity. That was stupid of her. Way to touch what already was stinging. Her panic about beeing there seemed like it was fading, but at the same time, her very irronational thinking didn't seem like it was fading just as quickly. Her heart was still racing from the act of being at a strange house with a guy she had only just seen across the bar about an hour or so ago. God, it was late. Between the throbbing pain, the energy burned off of the frightning thriller, and it being around midnight, her body felt exhasted. The energy was still contiuning to sink lower and lower, as her alertness hadn't decreased with the lack of energy. It was almost as if her body was running on emergency power. After all, on normal nights, she was in bed two hours ago at the most. When the emergency power was going to run down, she didn't know what was going to happen. Of course, she wasn't aware of her energy level at the moment. To her, she was still alert, but her body aching.
He turned and started trying to clean up what damage was done to his face. Cierra only had to crane her neck a little bit to see he was trying to look in something. At first, she thought it had been some sort of glass reflection, but instead turned out to be a small mirror that was worse than those located in Cierra's makeup bag. It must have been a girl thing, but Cierra had mirrors all over her crowded apartment. When she said 'all over' she meant two very large ones, but in a small place like that, two was enough. One stretched all across the bathroom while the other one was a tall one located next to her dresser. Both used not for the purpose of staring at herself, but more of making sure she could look as presentable as possible. In her mind, since she didn't look all too good naturally, she needed to make sure that she was fixed up well. Oh, what she would give to have that natural beauty she saw in most of her friends. Maybe it would make others less distant. Who knew.
Cason rejected her offer like it was almost annoying to have been asked. She was a little shot back and shifted a little more uncomfortably in her chair. Again, he used a phrase that she didn't recongize at the least. First he was saying that it wasn't her fault, but his, and now he was claiming that he was doing everything without any type or reward. Cierra had always been used for someone's benifit. Friended and ditched because someone finally got what they wanted and headed off. It wasn't always the case, but it did tend to happen. She always had to watch and make sure that she asked right upfront what they wanted so that she could make sure that she knew. Here he was saying that he didn't want anything. The tone he used simply only made her want to flinch back, as cold words often did that to her. She was sensitive to emotions. Actually, rephrase: she was sensitive to everything.
As he finished his words in a softer tone, Cierra felt as if she understood a little bit more now. He thought she was dragged into this. That, she figured, was very false. She was already in the situation and he pulled her out of it. Yes, he put her into a new one, but she knew that this was so much better than the other option. All that kept her from sprinting the other way when she was back outside was that this was so much better. Didn't he understand that? Cierra wanted to keep quiet, but at the same time, she did want to let him know that it was meaning a lot more than just that. It was frightning things that could have happened if he hadn't stepped in, when, by the way, no one else did. Deciding against her instinct to keep her mouth shut, she looked down at her hands, speaking softly "It wasn't your fault either. If you hadn't..." she trailed off, hoping that her words would just speak for themselves. God, everyone in the entire bar could have predicted what happened. Even the innocent mind of Cierra LaBeau knew that.
Suprise filled her face when he asked if she could do something. Well sure, she could attempt to, but she had no idea what she was looking for. In fact, the small sign of blood made her dizzy. Not completely pass out on the floor, but defintally blurred the eyes. With others, she might have kindly rejected, explaining she would be as helpful as internet that didn't work. However, in this point, she was determined to do whatever she could to make up for such the mess she must have brought him. She was still a little uncertain, looking what perticular mark above his eyebrow he was mentioning. She would do much better job of a mirror. If she knew what to look for. "Y-yeah," She started, "I can. But" and even as she said it, she realized how stupid she sounded, "will I be able to tell? I don't know what I'm looking for." Goodness, she was smart, she swore! It just so happened that this, what she would generally cover in biology class, was her weak point. In high school, she almost got a B in bio. Not an A! Oh, there was nothing more horrifying. Luckily, she slid with a 90% by the end of the year.
What she was talking about was that it all looked the same to her. Still, she seemed she could try. She got up on her knees on the chair, making herself taller, as a ducked head so that her short torso could see wasn't exactally great lighting. Her eyes darted, feeling the slight spin of her eye as she stared at it. A feeling of 'lets take a look' should have been coming out of her mouth, but she simply breathed lightly. She didn't see it up close before he attempted to clean it before, but it even looked from here a lot better than she remembered it. It wasn't fully clean though. Even Cierra, not sure what to look for, could see that clearly. She would have been embarassed about the question she asked earlier if she hadn't be proud of herself for noticing. Shaking her head mentally, she peered closer and said in a quiet voice, as he wasn't really all that far away (now was he?) "It's mostly clean. There's a small little.. spot to my" she paused and mentally pictured her index finger and thumb making an L to detect which side was left and right, "Right. Your left" It was barely almost unclean, but she had also been through health class. A little was enough to cause problems.
It suddenly dawned on her. Now that she was pointing it out, was she the one to clean it? One advantage she had was that she had gentle hands and could easily make a stroke over. In fact, her uncle (while holding her hands) said she had the great potiential of a doctor with her gentle touch. She was sure that the 90% in bio would kind of ruin that chance. Not to mention she didn't move onto Bio I or Bio II. Another thing they liked to pound and remind her of. Other than that, Cason was probably better doing it himself now that he knew where to go. From what she knew of what he did to her, he was very profficient at it. Being a hunter, she could really see that happening a lot. Then again, Cierra was having the hardest time remember that he was, indeed, a hunter who could potientialy be very dangerous to her if he figured out about her abilities. As long as she didn't turn, she was sure she was fine. WONDERIN WHY YOU CAN'T FIGURE ME OUT [/color][/size] with a change i call the names[/font] [/center]
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Post by CASON FLYNN ELLERY on Jul 22, 2011 5:45:28 GMT
Among his fellow hunters Cas had a fairly wide reputation as being less than merciful when it came to the things he hunted. A heartless bastard that's what they referred to him as in most conversations, most in admiration, some scoffingly. And they were pretty much correct. Emotionless was really the best way to describe him when it came to hunting. It didn't matter what the supernatural was or who they were. When he found them he killed them. End of story. Harsh? Most definitely, but he certainly had his reasons. Now most would just assume that's how he was period with anyone and everyone but they would have been quite wrong. In fact, he often was one of the few hunters who would go out of his way to make sure no one else got hurt because of something he did on a hunt. He'd chosen to do what he did and knew the potential consequences that came along with it. The rest of the blissfully ignorant population, however, hadn't signed up for such things and didn't need to pay for his decisions.
Which was why he felt so bad about what had happened with Cierra back at the bar. Granted he'd been saving her from a less than savory situation but that didn't change the fact that she was now sitting in his kitchen, probably still terrified and with a newly acquired bump on her forehead. A bump she was tentatively exploring with the tip of her fingers, quickly removing them with a slight wince. She looked exhausted yet he could see she was still on edge, running on the last few fumes of adrenaline most likely. A feeling he knew all too well and experienced more often than was probably healthy for any one person. At the moment he was just as keyed up as she was, though more due to the fact that he'd left some unfinished business out there than anything. Mistakes like that were not something he made. Ever. That little fact alone normally would have been enough to put him in a foul mood and if this was any other night he probably would have grabbed a fresh clip of ammo (aka, silver bullets in this case) and hunted the werewolf down.
It wasn't any other night, however. And surprisingly enough he was only slightly irritated, a fact that seemed to have something to do with Cierra's presence. Having her there to focus his attention on kept him calm which was quite a feat in itself, not that she would have any clue as to such a thing. If anything she clearly though of herself as being quite the hindrance, causing him more problems than anything. Had she been less submissive about everything and fought him tooth and nail the entire way from the bar to this point in time he likely would have wanted her out of his house as soon as possible, danger or no. As it was though there was no way he was going to allow her to set foot out that front door until morning came and even then it was questionable. Cason had always been a protective sort of person, perhaps the result of being a big brother where that just sort of came with the territory. And though she was completely unaware of it, Cierra had just become the protectee to his protector.
His assumption that the little piece of crap mirror would work just fine was definitely way off base that was for sure. He probably could have done better using a fun house mirror for all the good this one was doing him. That growing frustration combined with the stinging alcohol certainly didn't do wonders when it came to the tone of voice he used when responding to her query as to how she could repay him. Honestly it wasn't really aimed at her, more the idea, but obviously she wouldn't know that and had shrunk back in the chair with a quick downward cast of her eyes. His softer addition seemed to help her understand his previous reaction a little better at least and hopefully softened their blow. The soft sound of her voice surprised him a moment later as she countered him with her own view on things, not needing to finish the sentence for him to know what she meant. It was obvious enough just what the warlock had been wanting from her, saying it didn't really seem necessary. Or helpful either. And though he didn't say anything, Cas appreciated the quiet words all the same.
Obviously she had not been expecting his next query judging from the surprise written all over her face. In fact she looked downright petrified. It hadn't really occurred to him until then that she might not be so good with looking at the open bloody gash but before he could say it was fine and that he'd take care of it, she was nodding and agreeing to the task. Albeit hesitantly, but agreed nonetheless. Her uncertainty about just what it was she was looking for only further went to prove she was rather out of her element just then but he gave her points for attempting it. "Anything that doesn't look like it should be there, dirt, glass," He wasn't sure if that was going to help her any but she got up on her knees after that, hovering closer to him now as she leaned in to inspect the cut. The urge to squirm in the chair was suddenly very strong but he resisted it so as not to make her current job any harder and wasn't surprised when she announced that there was, indeed, something still dirtying up the open gash. Marvelous.
Though he'd originally planned on cleaning out whatever she may have found in the cut on his own he now wasn't sure that was such a good idea. Not that he didn't think he could do it because he obviously was more than capable of such a feat. However, the thought of fighting with that pathetic excuse for a mirror changed his mind. Besides she was right there and could get it out before it had a chance to go any deeper and possibly end up out of reach. If she didn't mind that was. With as many times as he'd patched himself up such a thing wasn't something he would have even batted an eyelash at. Cierra on the other hand... Well let's just say she didn't seem to keen on the sticky red substance to say the least. "Do you think you can get it out?" he questioned her carefully, not wanting to force her into doing it but wanting to get this process over with. As patient as he could be when it came to a hunt he was quite a bit less so when it came to other things. Such as getting glass or whatever it was dug out of his forehead.
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tag Cierra!! <3 words 1,163 notes <3333333333 credit t to the illy @ caution 2.0
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