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 Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 8:23 pm
More and more of Savior was being pressed into the fight as desperation drove her to getting back her mask, something that she still couldn't see despite West having moved as he had and his whole body was exposed. There was a chance he was laying on it and therefore she simply didn't think to move him, instead she settled for breaking his arm only to have herself kicked backwards. She growled in pain and clutched at her stomach as she staggered away, her head lifting up from where her gaze had hit the ground. It took her a moment or two to register that her target had gotten up and was running again (he was giving her entirely too much trouble, she supposed) and she began the chance once more. . . . only to come to a skidding halt at the door to the dorms.
To say it was a sudden halt would not be exaggerating, for the moment Savior nearly set foot on the entrance she let out a shriek and jumped backwards, landing on her hands and feet in the position of a feral animal. Above her the sky light up with a streak of lightning and a clap of thunder roared overhead, nearly drowning out her call of anguish and disdain at being unable to enter. In his effort to get away the male she had been pursuing had placed himself in perhaps the safest place on campus - the undead doors. Every ounce of Savior's being commanded that she back away, her whole body reeling with each step she tried to take to get closer, and her cries grew louder as her whole body seemed to vibrate with protest.
She had to leave, she wanted to leave and get away from the horrible feelings. But he had her mask and Savior could not, would not, leave it behind.
So she would wait, her steps sending her in a stalking circular pattern around the building. He had her mask, he wold have to come out some time. Then, yes. Savior would be waiting for him.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:32 pm
As soon as the two undead kids left his temporary safe house, West pressed his bloody back firmly to the door and listened, barely able to hear anything over the mad rush of blood in his ears. His right arm hung limp at his side, and his only reassurance that it wasn't completely unsalvageable was the fact that he could still move his fingers. He reached across his body and flicked off the light switch with his good hand, closing his eyes and straining to hear anything that might tell him where she had gone.
He must have dozed off, because when West awoke he was seated on the floor, his tail crunched awkwardly beneath him. His neck and back were stiff and sore, but it seemed that as long as he didn't move around too much, most of his cuts remained closed. It seemed the ghoul was still nowhere to be found.
After a moment's hesitation he turned the lights back on and slowly rose to his feet. His first stop was the urinal, then the sink, then the mirror. Jack, he looked like crap. His normally ruddy skin was pale as the moon, making his dark eyes stand out in stark contrast. His hair was still damp, plastered against his head and wound around his horns in strange muddy clumps. Numb fingers wet from the sink gingerly pressed the cut on his cheek, but he gave up any thought of cleaning it when it began to bleed again.
He turned toward the door. Her mask lay in a sad little pile on the dirty tile. Dammit. The boil's nap had leeched the fight from him and he just wanted to be left alone. Maybe if he just gave the thing back, she would refrain from murdering him. West shuffled over to the thing, scooped it up, and left the bathroom. He hoped undead kids didn't mind random puddles of demon blood in their shitter.
As he approached the dorm's exit, West noticed that it had stopped raining at some point, the night once again illuminated by a couple of flickering jack o'lanterns rather than by flashes of lightning. He stepped outside and took several experimental sniffs, searching for the smell the Marrowstripe seemed to exude. West raised his left hand, palm up, presenting Savior's mask like some sort of creepy peace offering.
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Posted: Tue Feb 22, 2011 9:54 pm
She wasn't sure how long she waited for him thought the passage of the wind and rain into sunlight gave her some grasp of time, as did the drying of her hair and her clothing. The monster had spent a better part of the period of time pacing around the dorms in a rage, trying to find a way in that didn't send her blood freezing inside her veins. The very building reeked of danger that told her to stay away, to get going, but she'd found one spot that allowed her some piece. So it was then that she'd positioned herself right above the door - a perfect spot to watch whomever came out. A few students that smelled like rot had passed through, driving Savior against the wall like a terrified animal moving away from fire, but eventually no one came out and she was content to wait. He would need to come out eventually.
Almost as if answering her prayers, Savior noticed a familiar scent in the air - her own. Her pale eyes caught sight of her mask before she caught sight of the hand attached to it and the Marrowstripe left little room for ideas as to what to do next. With the quickness that was afforded to her she leaped down from atop the door and landed squarely on West, his head contacting with the ground as she made her impact. He was still holding out her mask even though she had tackled him and the monster paused over him for a moment before she grabbed the item and placed it on her face, the entire rage she'd carried for a better part of the day instantly vanishing. It was as if nothing had happened, as if Savior had never been apart from her mask.
But then. . . what was she to do with the boy on the ground? From what she could tell he was no Marrowstripe and therefore was not edible, nor did he seem like a legitimate threat. It was odd to think that with her mask back the Marrowstripe could be considered rational and she lowered herself down to where she was practically laying atop West's back. She liked the feel of his skin, he was rather warm and she was still a bit chilly from the rain, and idly she ran her fingers through his red hair. Red, it seems, was a color she liked. West was lucky and beneath her mask Savior's voice let out a small rumble. She was clearly thinking, but what of?
It didn't take long for her to provide an answer as she reached and ran her hands over the deep wounds on his back, her fingertips poking themselves inside the cuts and scraps. She could feel the warmth of blood responding to her actions, pushing away at her hands as they tried to protect the body, but she kept rubbing the wounds until a sandy paste formed beneath her palms. She smeared it all over the gashes and scrapes, knowing full and well she wasn't helping it heal, and when she seemed satisfied with that she rolled him off his stomach and onto his back. Straddling his waist she leaned and did the same motions to the wound on his arm and the one on his face, her hands throughly coated with blood just as much as he was with sand.
There, now. Now she would get to see the beautiful red again. Now, she would be able to find him again. Now, now - he was going to be hers.
With those thoughts in mind (and promptly forgotten as she decided it was time to leave the area) Savior started off towards her initial location, her train of thought having derailed somewhere along the way. But, at the very least, she had done something that even West could not erase.
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Posted: Thu Feb 24, 2011 9:36 pm
When West awoke again, he couldn't have said how much time had passed since he last recalled being conscious. He didn't even really know where he was at first or what he had been doing to end up wherever 'here' was, but he was fairly certain that there was a warm puddle in his current location because he was lying in it. As the minutes passed, he began to remember what had happened in full, and his recollections made him quite angry. Still he didn't move, keeping his eyes closed and making a sort of morbid game out of timing his breaths to the pulsing of his throbbing arm.
He must have fallen asleep or simply lost consciousness for a third time, because the next thing he knew he was sitting upright, pain blooming in his chest. His responsive hand flailed at the creature trying to assist him, certain it was her, but when he opened his eyes, he saw it was just some terrified undead ghoul who was, quite unfortunately for her, missing at least half of her skin. West forced himself to calm down and when she timidly asked if he needed help, he cut her off, ordering her to take him straight to the demon dorms.
Everything seemed to itch. It was only after he had managed to stand that West looked down at his mangled arm and saw the sandy paste Savior had forced into his wounds. Great. That was just great.
The next time he saw that crazy b***h, he was going to kill her.
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