Wounded... [Open]

[poss]

For crying out loud I'm running from a comedown
God forbid I know I've been a letdown
Reaching for the sky while leaving in a gutter
Kicking and screaming I am singing bloody murder

Agony.
Searing pain.
A falter in her stride, the petite woman collapsed against the wall in the hall just feet from the door to her apartment. Intermittent spots of blood in her wake upon the carpet, dripping over her right forearm that was braced so tightly to her abdomen over the open wound, her loaded firearm still tight in her grasp. A deep crimson oozed from the corner of her mouth as she slid along the wall in a sideways lean, streaking the dark essence with her. Left hand found her keys in the pocket of her shorts, fumbling them in to the lock before leaning on the door with dead weight and stumbling forward as it opened. Anastasia never gave a single thought to closing it behind her, the 5" blade that was in her left hand, along with her keys, falling to the floor just beyond the threshold. The bullet wound went right through her, the deep stain ever growing in the loose material on her back as well as the front.

Today Ana had been simply walking through the streets after her morning jog- her attire a simple pair of short black shorts, a matching tank top, and an unbuttoned white dress shirt over top to conceal her shoulder holster. Simply wearing sandals, she never wore her ankle sheaths, but couldn't tear herself away from the security of her gun. Even when exercising you never know what you will come across. And she was right. She had found herself literally running in to Daimon. A man who made the mistake of telling her he was Sin itself. A deep bruise around her right wrist proved of his crushing grasp as he held her from moving away, and now a gunshot entry and exit wound through her lower abdomen. It was on the inside of her left hip, not far from hitting the bone. If it had been any lower, she wouldn't have been able to walk to where she was now- stumbling silently through her apartment toward the bathroom.

I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul
I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel

She had been behind several deaths today. The deaths of angels. White angels. Her bullets had been deflected by Daimon's blade, bringing those innocent beings to their death. In her attempt to leave the scene, Daimon had pulled a weapon on her in response to her failed onslaught, and it was his bullet that tore through her stomach. Anastasia had been shot before, but never in such a place that was so critical. The pain was beyond numbing, it was searing. Agonizing. Her jaw was clenched and she attempted to keep her breathing under control. An old woman who had seen the shooting had offered to take Anastasia to the hospital, but she managed to convince the woman to just drop her off at the back entry way to ZaneCorp Tower. The stairs had been hell, and surely the cleaning crew would be royally upset about the mess she had made, but in truth, right now, she couldn't care less. She would pay for their overtime if need be.

Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yourself
I'm alive! Sick of the pain I'm sick of the sorrow
Sick of today I'm sick of tomorrow

A loud scream from the hallway as someone walking by spotted the streak of blood on the wall and the trail of drops on the carpet just beyond her open door. Right hand still grasping the grip of her pistol as her forearm was held against her abdomen, she leaned her shoulder on the door in the entry to the washroom. Catching her own glance through the reflection of the mirror, her eyes rolled back and she shook her head. Not a good time to become squeamish around blood. A jolt of pain tore through her, and she crumpled over forwards, landing on her left palm and her bare knees, right arm still against her stomach. She screamed through her teeth, dark tresses of hair falling around her face from over her shoulders. The pool of blood on the white tile was growing darker. Thicker. Wider. Ana managed to keep her eyes open, even though the pain attempted to wash her over the brink of consciousness.

I'm addicted to the misery in my head
I better stop before I end up dead

[Deleted]

So clever, whatever, I'm done with these endeavors
Alone I'll walk the winding way (here I stay)
It's over, no longer, I feel it growing stronger
I live to die another day, until I fade away

He climbed into the car he had just finished putting back together. New bulletproof tires were good for the she-cop's car, his brown eyes examined the interior and he sighed. There was a real apprehension in his mind for driving the car. But the guy had to get it back to her so Alex climbed in oh so carefully. The dark skinned male was dressed extremely formally because after this he'd be walking to a masquerade ball tonight. In fact he was wearing an ice white suit and tie. He places a small card with a hand written letter of just tanks to the woman for not exactly killing him in their last meeting. He smiled and started the black vehicle and it roared to life. The garage door opened and he pulled out of his drive to get into the city where he'd be going to the famous ZaneCorp tower where she lived. Alex had been there before for various business deals with Mister Erif and he couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he'd be going there to visit a cop instead of a Business leader instead.

He began his drive into the city and he kept his eyes on the road, jeez he felt so awkward driving someone else's vehicle. To think mere years ago he would have stolen this thing and gotten away with it probably. He smiled and rode in complete silence. Making his way towards the edge of the city he kept his eyes locked to the road. He didn't at all want to do anything clumsy. Alex had filled the tank all the way up so Ana would have quite a bit of gas left in her vehicle when he gave it back to her. After all it was the polite thing to do eh? The male rode forwards in the car. Its interior was just as impressive as the exterior and he enjoyed that fact, after all it wasnt often that someone got to ride in, let alone drive a car that was this nice. Making his way towards ZaneCorp he could tell he was only a mere few blocks away, but something in his gut seemed to make him want to park the car, leave the keys inside and run away from ZaneCorp. Perhaps Mister Erif had been angered eh? He hoped not.

Why give up? Why give in?
It's not enough, it never is
So I will go on until the end

He parked the car where tenants parked and almost jogged into the place. Merely walking in made him tense. The place reeked of blood, and that stench stung his nose, in many ways it brought back his old memories, he asked a woman where the tenant apartments were and he nodded before heading towards the stairs. But as he came closer to the stairs the smell of blood merely became stronger and stronger. God damn he needed to figure- the stairs were covered in the red liquid as well. He called out for someone to get this cleaned up before someone else gets hurt or gets sick and a few of the cleaning staff went to work. He ran up the stairs, not really caring that his ice white suit was slowly becoming stained with spots of red blood. he kept jogging up the stairs. His heart was racing, adrenaline was pouring through his body and it was showing just at how jumpy he had become.

Finally making it to the apartments he saw out of the corner of his eye just who it was who made this bloody mess. Jeez, this was going to be hell, He was rather worried though. He knew who it was as he could see the dark haired woman sitting against one of the walls in her apartment, "Steele?" he said almost in a whisper.. Of all things he didn't want to scare the woman, seeing as he would be on the receiving end of a gun and knife. "Anastasia its me, Alex. I came here to give you your car back.." His voice was barely above a whisper as he continued to speak, taking small steps in as full of a view as Anastasia could see, but he seemed to be to quiet as she stepped into the washroom and collapsed from the pain in there. It seemed she had gotten some kind of injury to her abdominal area. He growled, any person whom laid a land or fired a weapon on a woman was to be killed. He'd personally make sure of it.

We've become, desolate
It's not enough, it never is
But I will go on until the end

He stood at the edge of the doorway, a tall dark figure, "Anastasia, what the hell happened to you?" He wanted to step further in but he wouldn't dare invade the woman's privacy anymore than he already had. His eyes and very being seemed to drip with worry for the woman, but that worry only grew as he saw a pool of blood forming around her. She had been shot, he had seen so many people lose their lives because of being shot in the abdomen, and he had killed many in that fashion, but he'd be damned if that happened to her. Taking a quiet step forward, "Anastasia Its Alex. Do you mind if I take a look at that wound?" He couldn't help it. He was worried about the woman and his voice seemed to give that all away. He took one more step forward.

Walking now was like walking in a mine field. Each step could be your last.

[poss]

For crying out loud I'm running from a comedown
God forbid I know I've been a letdown
Reaching for the sky while leaving in a gutter
Kicking and screaming I am singing bloody murder

Her arms trembled. The right, braced so tightly against her body as if it were her lifeline, and the left holding her in her position over the floor. They shook, the muscles convulsing uncontrollably as if a great amount of weight has been put on them. Tensing her back, her stomach muscles, in attempt to remain in the upright position and not fall on her face only to feel the gut wretching searing pain jolt ruthlessly through her system. Down her arms, her legs, through her spine. Her head was pounding. A headache? No, it was her pulse. She could taste her pulse, the copper taint of blood thick over her tongue as she hung her head forward. The crimson essence seeped from between her clenched teeth- her facial expression that of a snarl as she stared down the flooring as if it had been her assailant. Anastasia, on her hand and knees on the bathroom floor of her apartment, remaining as silent as possible as her eyes were forced to watch the blood ooze from her own mouth to the puddle beneath her and stream over the tile to the edge of the bathtub. All of her focus was put in to staying awake, and remaining with her face not against the floor.

I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul
I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel

Her right hand still grasped the grip of her pistol, finger over the trigger. Subconsciously, she was ready for anything. Whether it be another attack, or the beginning of world war 3, she was ready. Only two blades left on her body, one in her left wrist sheath, and the other was sheathed down her back, underneath her clothing. It was much larger, and rather uncomfortable. Another blade was laying loose in the entry way to her apartment, and two remained in their sheaths on the foot of the canopy bed. Only three weapons, and blood loss. This was not her lucky day. She never heard Alex' words, his whisper, over the gurgling in her own throat as she tried to breath through the thick essence that found its way in to her mouth. She spit in to the puddle, clearing her mouth the best she could before lifting herself back in to a stand using the counter for support. In the mirror, she saw Alex. All she gave him was a few nods, her eyes drowsy, the blood staining her chin and crawling along her jaw line before spiraling down to spill upon her shirt. Her hands started grabbing at the material of her unbuttoned over shirt, pulling it from her body as she closed her eyes tightly in a struggle against the urge to scream out in pain.

Her breathing came quicker, her grip on the counter was white knuckled, and eventually she just tore the shirt down a seam, tossing the material to the floor of the bathroom beside the puddle of blood. Now she was clad simply in her black jogging shorts, and a matching tank top, barefooted, having kicked off her sandals half way across her apartment on the way to the bathroom. Her gun was still in hand, and she waved Alex over to her with it, giving him permission to come closer. The gun, it was a piece of her that she would not let be taken away from her, especially at a time of weakness. To think right now of it as a weapon was wrong, think of it more as an attachment to her right arm. Still nodding before bowing her head over the sink again, her hair falling messily over her shoulders and obscuring her face from view. Speckles of dripped blood formed on the edges of the sink as she coughed quietly, her body still shaking uncontrollably. Perhaps it was a reaction to the blood loss, or her anger. Or both.

Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yourself
I'm alive! Sick of the pain I'm sick of the sorrow
Sick of today I'm sick of tomorrow

His question as Alex took that single step in to the bathroom had her shaking her head instead of nodding. Could he look at the wound? No. Could he touch the wound? Hell no. Could he bring her to a hospital? Fuck no. Trembling, each step taken surefooted but with much concentration, she hobbled over to the shower, fingers grasping the shower curtain only to put too much weight on to it, and it tore from its place and fell in to a heap at her feet. Anastasia ignored it, leaning forward, her left hand rested on the far side of the shower wall as she slowly lifted her leg to step in. "Shot. Alex.... I was shot." The words were spoken slowly, with the gargle of blood at the back of her throat that spilled past her lips and down her chin yet again, her hair clinging to the dampness of her face.

I'm addicted to the misery in my head
I better stop before I end up dead

[Deleted]

Time is wasting
We only got 4 minutes to save the world
No hesitating
We only got 4 minutes

He couldn't help the feeling of complete and utter hopelessness, helplessness. he felt completely useless, and that was something he hated as he sat there and watched her bleed[/u] it made him absolutely furious, that someone would even dare do that to someone like her. Even if Ana was a tough woman, she wasn't at all invincible. He couldn't help it he had to look away before he felt any more frustration than he already did, but his time was running out. Ana would bleed to death if he didn't do something about the fact there was blood everywhere. His eyes narrowed and he had to do something. He didn't care whether she liked it he'd be taking care of that blood loss. He had enough here to stop the bleeding and get her to a real medical facility. She'd hate him for this, and he knew it, but at least she'd survive this ordeal. If she shot him he didn't care, he had an inhuman about of resilience to internal injuries at times like these when his emotions were boiling over the top.

You gotta get in line, hop
Tick tock tick tock tick tock

He noted she was still well armed. Weapons of various kinds such as her different blades were at hand for her to use, and he had to be careful. At times like these any human, or inhuman being would be poised for an attack, he had to be extremely cautious to not dare startle her, unless he wanted to eel bullets piercing his skin once more. He could feel her pain and it was dizzying to say the least. Sometimes being an empath was a painful thing, but at least it put him in her shoes. He felt the familiar burning of a bullet inside of him yet there was none there, he had to remove the bullet from her or she'd die. He had to leave it in because she'd bleed to death. The man that was absolutely torn between what was right and wrong stood there completely helpless. After all the years he spent amounting physical and mental strength, he was utterly helpless in this situation. He couldn't help but feel angry with himself that he couldn't do anything against her will for fear of being shot and stressing her out more than she already was.

He noted her waving him closer with her gun and he stepped close to get as close of a view as possible of the would. The fact she still clutched it to stop the bleeding was good. However her hand wouldn't be able to do that forever, he remembered his own close call with death, he had been shot half an inch above his heart and the bullet had been lodged within his chest for days as the doctors tried to work at removing it without killing him. It was a dilemma she was going to have to see as well. Abdominal injures were particularly dangerous, mostly because of the digestive tract and the acids that were within the body when it was active. Those acids could kill her from the inside out, corroding her body away. He shuddered he couldn't think of her dying, no, she would survive this. He'd guarantee that. The formerly white suit was now spattered with blood and other such things that he merely chuckled. This is why he never wore white, it always got ruined some how some way. He was a few feet from her washroom he'd still give her space, she needed that.

Time is waiting
We only got 4 minutes to save the world
No hesitating
We only got 4 minutes

Her breathing was quickening as she leaned against the sink, blood dappling the inside of the sink. "jesus, Anastasia if you don't do something you will die. I will be damned if that happens. I don't want you to die." He growled almost as if he was mad that she had gotten hurt. No he wasnt mad at her whatsoever, in fact he was more mad at the situation that rendered him absolutely helpless. "You'll either bleed to death or drown in your own blood. I can't force you to do anything, but I don't want to sit here useless and watch you bleed." Mister big hearted black angel was back in the building as he continued to watch her, his fists clenched and unclenched as if he was holding imaginary stress balls to take out the not truly shown frustration on them rather than anything or anyone else. Her shirt was in a heap next to another puddle of blood, that crap was everywhere, he now reeked of it. Normally the scent of so much blood would make his nauseous, and not feel so well, but he ignored any feelings of squeamishness.

"Shot. Alex.... I was shot."

"I can see that now. But like I said before, You need to do something about that before you die. If you don't then while you're in shock I'll bring you to the hospital myself. " It was a threat he would go through with. If Ana wanted to see a much more commanding side of him, well here it was. "I will not allow you to die. It's not me to sit here and stand useless when a friend is hurt. Now if there's anything you need me or want me to do, within reason I will do it." His voice was so wracked with worry and frustration once more that his commanding voice sounded all the more commanding even now. The dark haired woman stood over the sink, her hair messily was hung over her face but he knew there was blood in her lungs just by the way she spoke. It was all to familiar and he didn't want a repeat situation. Today Anastasia was going to learn just what kind of person Alex was. To many he was a big hearted man whom wanted to turn his life around, but others saw the side of him that kept him a black angel. The side of him that was dangerous and only came out when his anger was at its peak.

"I don't care how many bullets you shoot me with, but if you don't do something than I will." His word was final in that statement. Ana had a choice, do something voluntarily or wait till she went into shock or even earlier depending on the male's mood to have him drag her to the hospital. But he couldn't help the fact that this side came out at this time, he couldn't pat her on the shoulder, he remembered how much the pain from a bullet wound resonated through the body and he wouldn't put her through that. But he stood there, his worry and concern for the woman's life plainly written on his features.

[rufiel]

"Blood... the scent of blood... I know that smell..."

The young man's brisk walk prior to that moment had filled the night air with a slight tap, loud and quite outspoken as if to alert all who heard it of his presence. Like a shadow against the walls, he prowled the sidewalks of a city of with a name he did not know. His hair and eyes glistened under the light of the moon as he strode along the street. An aimless wanderer, a walker of the night was the youth named Rufiel... moving only where his heart would guide. His face was one wrought with fatigue, but his senses remained ever sharp should he find exactly what it was that drove him out into the cold night. He had followed them here... his mind fixed solely on a solitary purpose. There were others who prowled the night... others like him... he would find them. As young as Rufiel seemed outwardly, inside his heart and soul were bound to a solitary promise made to no living soul save himself.

He would find the wretches linked with the murder of his parents... and spill their entrails at his feet.

His hands were in his pockets whilst he walked along, his button down shirt nearly completely unbuttoned and revealing his chest openly. His jeans, ragged and torn at the knees, bore testament to his travels from town to town. He had borne many aliases amongst the people he had mingled with, and had learned many things in the process. First off, he knew for a fact that the town he had set foot in was far from normal. Things seemed too calm for comfort... and the calm usually came before the storm. It wasn't long before his keen senses picked up a scent all too familiar to the feral boy. It was the scent of blood, thick and Iron-like. Wherever it spilled, it seemed to be in very copious amounts. Closing both his silver eyes, he honed in the scent while driving out the scent of the trees and other people miles across town. The scent appeared in his mind's eye like a red trail of dust, leading straight ahead for one block and down the left. Like a silver and black bolt of lightning, Rufiel took off following the trail.

The storm had arrived.

"It must be them... the ones who killed mother and father..."

He came to a stop in front of a building that towered high. It was surrounded by trees planted by the city's government no doubt, a normal looking condo to the naked eye. There was no mistake in Rufiel's mind... the smell of blood seemed to perspire from the walls of the building. He glanced up to an open window on the second floor, seemingly leading into a hallway. Taking a deep breath, he readied himself for what might be an imminent battle with them... the vampire spawn that had taken from him the only people he had ever loved. Every run in with their kind gave rise to crucial info needed for his search. He opened his eyes as a deep and low growl seemed to echo as Rufiel tapped partially into his lycan blood. Immense strength surged through his legs as he leaped through the air, coming to rest atop a tree branch closest to the building before taking flight again and catching hold of the windowsill with his arm. Without much effort, he hoisted himself through the window and into the hallway.

The blood was everywhere... it's source was close.

He followed warily, avoiding suspicion from all others who seemed to notice the blood in the hallway. When attention had been diverted, he darted down the hallway, stopping just short of an apartment door cracked open. Behind that very wall could have been vampires feasting on another victim. His eyes became twisted in rage as both eyes began to gleam with anger. His blood boiled at the memory he had carried with him for years after the incident. He hadn't even realized that his fingernails had slowly grown in length, darkening in coloration as they morphed into claws and dug into his palm. It took every ounce of willpower he had to suppress his urge to roar in rage before darting into the building and tearing the vampires limb from limb. Cautiously, his nose pointed towards the open doorway as two more scents were picked up. One was that of a woman, for he could tell from the scent of estrogen that oozed forth from her pores. The other scent was far stronger, that of cologne and deodorant. Was it him? Was he the vampire scum?

"Shot. Alex.... I was shot."

That's all it took for Rufiel to calm himself. The woman inside the apartment obviously knew this man if he called him by his first name. A quiet sigh of disappointment escaped his lips as he stood up from his kneeling position. There were doubtless deeds that had been commited against this woman, and it was possible that it could have been anyone who was behind it. Whoever it was, he'd find no information of value hanging around in a bloody hallway. He began to walk when his chain suddenly dangled loudly against his chest. The sound was sure to alert any who were keen on hearing it. He froze in his tracks, beads of sweat trickling down his face as he stood. He would wait a few moments, to ensure that he wasnt heard, and then he would make a break for the window.

"Dammit... just my luck. Nice going Rufiel, some detective you'll make" His thoughts echoed as he stood still in time, waiting for the opportunity to flee.

[poss]

For crying out loud I'm running from a comedown
God forbid I know I've been a letdown
Reaching for the sky while leaving in a gutter
Kicking and screaming I am singing bloody murder

Vibrating. Her entire figure shaking uncontrollably. From her knees knocking to her hands unable to be steady, even when pressed firmly against the tiled wall inside the shower. Anastasia was in a lean against the wall, her hair draped partially over her face as she fought against the urge to fall, sit or lay down. Her forearm of her right arm was still pressed firmly against her abdomen, low on her body to hold tight against the pen wound. Her back felt as if it were on fire. A burning sensation from the larger exit wound that was clad in a torn section of her black tank top. Casting her gaze in Alex's directon, she could tell he was angry. Tell that he was frustrated, yet the only facial expression she could offer him was an emotionless stare, oozing with a helplessness of her own.

I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul
I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel

The man who had shot her had tossed a vial in her direction before her left the scene. Told her it would help her. The son of a bitch had just shot her, and she wasn't about to believe a word that came out of his mouth. Upon crawling to her feet from the sidewalk she had made sure to step on the glass vial, shattering it, and allowing its contents to trickle down the concrete. Perhaps if she would have taken it, it would be different, but that wasn't even an option in her mind. The fact that she knew nothing of the man, or of the potion made the thought of actually taking it in to her system willingly obsolete. It could have killed her. It could have been so many things, and that fact alone left her not regret having broke it instead of drinking it.

She reached forward. The heat of pain that coursed through her body was unbearable, and soon her left hand found the knob to turn on the water. She did, and it poured from the tap ice cold. Fingers leaving the knob went to her shirt and she slowly tried to peel it from her body. The pain dropped her to her knees in the bathtub immediatly, screaming through her teeth. Breath sped up, pushing from between her teeth as she continued to try to peel the shredded bits of material from the wound. It seemed looking at it only made the pain worse. Slowly removing her right arm from across her stomach, the gun still in hand as she knelt in the ice cold water that fled down the drain. Alex spoke of wanting something to do. Some way to help, and without hesitation she gave him just that. "Alex, help." Her words whispered, a pleading sound emitting from between her clenched jaw. As she said it, she motioned toward the shirt that she would be unable to take it off on her own, the shredded material clinging to her wounded flesh. "...Off" Spoken as a whisper once again, gazing in his direction, begging with her eyes. She knew that she had to get the material out of the wound if it was to even begin to heal. Otherwise they would have to reopen the wound to get it out later.

Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yourself
I'm alive! Sick of the pain I'm sick of the sorrow
Sick of today I'm sick of tomorrow

Having heard him complain about her not doing anything, she never answered him. Defiant until the end. She would not go willingly to a hospital. She had a hard enough time trusting Alex, let alone a bunch of strangers at the hospital. The blood made her shirt stick to her skin, areas having dried and making the job of taking it off carefully much more difficult than it should have been. Every movement she made, her arms shifting, hurt like hell but she managed to keep quiet, simply grinding her teeth together, fighting even the facial expression of a wince. Hysterics, crying, screaming- it was all something that only got in the way. Made the job harder to cope with for those trying to help, and grabbed the attention of onlookers.

Just then she heard the jingle of a chain outside of the bathroom. In her mind, it could have come from within her apartment. She knew that she had left the door open, and without hesitation she rose her right arm and aimed out the bathroom door toward the entrance to the room. Finger had already been hugging the trigger, and she fired off a shot, aiming for the carpet directly infront of the door. Surely it was warning enough, but she still managed to speak up, "Who the hell is there?!" Coughing after she forced the words out. She was about ready to crawl out of the washroom from her kneeling position in the bathtub and go see for herself. Screams were heard from outside in the hall- most likely it startled the residents who shared her floor, but she would rather scare them than be attacked when in such condition.

I'm addicted to the misery in my head
I better stop before I end up dead

[Deleted]

His eyes were locked on her she was in such a terrible pain. He felt it but didn't bleed, he closed his eyes and cursed the empath powers that he had. he watched her completely and utterly powerless in the truest sense of the word. His eyes locked on her, his brown eyes betrayed the inner worry, the inner pain he was feeling himself. He wished he could calm down but the fact of the matter that he felt like someone tore a hole through his body and that someone he for once took that chance of giving a shit about was hurt and she'd let him do nothing about it only stressed him out. Maybe he wasn't cut out to have friends, maybe he should have stayed away from everyone.. was he blaming himself for the situation? No, but he did blame the fact that black angels were associated with bad luck and ill-omen, the fact he was someone that represented bad luck and ill omen merely would feed the superstitions against his race. He sighed he hated the stereotypical black angels, he wasn't like them, yet every wrong they did was a wrong he did. It was their fault, it was his fault.

Anastasia seemed to make her way to the shower and turn on the water, the water looked cold, which was a good thing. Medically all he knew that cold water did was slow down the body systems, and it numbed the body, but that kind of numbing really wasnt gonna work for Ana as she stepped into the tub. She told him to help her remove the tank top on her. Well this was going to be odd, but he saw her eyes, they were begging him to help her and he would. Stepping forward, "I know you don't trust me, but I apprieciate the small amount of faith you have in me now." He looked at her and smiled in a way that he hoped could comfort her in some way, "Take my hand, I doubt you could break my hand from squeezing it to hard. Besides it takes the mind off most of the pain" with that he began his work. A delicate process that seemed to be painfully slow. "Anastasia, I'm going to cut the tank top enough so I can get the cloth out of the wound." With that he cut a small slit in the cloth, the blade never neared her skin, and he slit it up to the edge of her bra line. Still so polite even in this situation.

In full view of the woman he sat there and set the unbloodied blade down . "I'll buy you a new one" he murmured apologetically as he remained fully concentrated at the task at hand. Now he was at the place where dried blood kept the shirt onto her body. He looked back at her, it pained him to have to cause her more pain than she already was in to get this cloth out of there, but it had to be done. Slowly he pulled up, a jolt of pain rushing his body horribly fast. He gritted his teeth and worked in a circular pattern until the cloth had been removed. "I'm sorry.." he murmured, referring to the fact that he had probably put her through a lot of pain to get the tank top off of her. He looked at her and then the tank top that was removed from the injured area where he could see it. she obviously hadn't been shot by a big gun, but size sometimes didn't matter and this was one of those times. She had been shot and that's all that mattered. His eyes closed, for a moment and he drew in a breath before he heard a chain rattle.

He heard her want to know who it was, and he looked at her, "Stay there. I'll take care of whatever mother fucker that dares come up here that isnt staff." He growled it before walking out and spotting a man, he walked to the man and turned him around to face the black angel, "Just who the hell are you?" The man demanded, "What right do you have for spying in a woman's apartment. Especially one that is injured." His eyes were shining with anger. He did not need a pest around when he had to take care of the woman whom was in to much pain for words to describe. His brown eyes narrowed and he growled, "I don't want or need a fight right now. I have to take care of someone that takes precedence over a stray mutt" he referred to the fact that the man screamed Lycan, noting the faint change in his fingernails. Alex stood out there, before walking back into the apartment and knelt by the woman, and he frowned.

"Its just a stray mutt." he murmured to her as he knelt by the tub and never took his eyes off her.

[rufiel]

A growl erupted from the lycan's mouth. "Hmph... that's some great hospitality you're showing there" Rufiel snarled, walking out in plain sight with both hands held casually in the air as an obvious sign that he was unarmed. He sniffed at the air, struggling to separate all other scents from that of the iron like smell of this 'Anastasia's' blood. It appeared that the warning shot that had been fired was a bullet made entirely out of silver. If she carried ammo such as that, it could only mean one thing... there were others like Rufiel somewhere in the city. It gave him a sense of belonging, as if it were destiny that led him to this city. A toothy grin spread across his face as he came to this realization.

"Now hold on there, lover boy" Rufiel snickered, still keeping both hands held overhead. "I've got no ill intentions here... with all the blood little miss Clint Eastwood over there seems to be so generous in donating to the walls and floor, I thought I'd find an entire coven of Vampires here... guess I was wrong."

His eyes moved from the man who knelt beside the wounded female, finally taking a glance at the wound. It was deep, possibly completely penetrating her lower abdomen... yet she was still here staining up the place. Rufiel was hungry, but there was no way he was feasting on human flesh... the thought sent chills up his spine, being likened to the vampire race who fed on humans sometimes merely for sport. He'd hold off his hunger until he returned to the small apartment across town that he called home. Hopefully his new roommate hadn't cleaned out his fridge before he could first.

"Well, seems like I won't find any bloodsucking bastards standing here and swallowing insults from the both of you" Rufiel siged as he dropped his arms, too tired and lazy to keep them suspended in the air. "Any of you know where they like to mingle? I've got some business with those rats with wings..."

He took a step back and turned towards the rest of the hallway. "And for God's sake, romeo... get that woman to a hospital" He said, rubbing his hair out from in front of his face. "If she's too stubborn to want to live, knock her out and drag her half dead carcass to an emergency room. What kind of mate are you, anyway?" He rolled his eyes as he placed both hands in his pockets... sometimes he couldn't understand how people like these two were able to function at times... self sufficiency was only complete when one could make wise decisions concerning themselves as well as others. Still, Rufiel cared very little for the two of them... after all, he didn't know them, and as far as he knew they didn't have any interest or knowledge on vampires. He'd wait to hear if they knew anything on vampires or where to find them... after all, if they had run ins with lycans they surely knew where to find vampires.

[poss]

For crying out loud I'm running from a comedown
God forbid I know I've been a letdown
Reaching for the sky while leaving in a gutter
Kicking and screaming I am singing bloody murder

The bathtub held a few inches of cold water as Anastasia knelt in it, one hand on the edge, and the other on the tiled wall. Her jaw was still clenched, the pain was almost bearable in the sense that she felt as if she was getting used to it. I could live with it. Was a though that came to mind, only to feel the slight tugging of the material that made her stomach churn in response to the pain. Maybe not. Alex's words, about her not trusting him, made her tilt her head to the side and squint her eyes to stare at him. Was it that obvious that she had these trust issues, that this man, a man who she considered a friend [which was very rare indeed] still knew that she did not trust him. She would have to change this. Fight the urge to tell him to leave her alone and let her handle it herself. He offered her his hand and she took it, smirking when he spoke of not being able to break it. She couldn't keep silent any more. "I trust you, Alex." Meeting his eyes with a piercing stare as she said it. It was spoken as a statement, to reassure him after he obviously thought she didn't. Ana did not want to push away the only person she had found it possible to be in a room with for more than a few minutes. Even if that meant swallowing her pride and choking on it for a while.

I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul
I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel

Alex began to pick and peel the shredded bits of material from the wound, and to remove the tank top from around it. Both wounds, the entry and the exit, were bleeding heavily. The entry wound had more material pushed in to it, but the exit wound was larger all together. He spoke to her, reassuring her along the way as he cut the tank top away. Ana responded simply with a nod, squeezing his hand much lighter than surely he would have expected, get clenching her jaw and looking down to the bloody water that swirled down the drain. She felt his gaze on her, and she looked up just as he pulled on the material. She cringed, her entire body tensing which only made it hurt worse due to the muscle damage. A groan escaped her lips and she shook her head when he apologized. "Its.. not your fault. Alex." she spoke through clenched teeth.

The rattle of a chain brought Alex to leave the bathroom after Anastasia fired off a round in the general direction of the noise. As Alex left the room, Ana began to pull herself back in to a stand, shivering from the cold, and the loss of blood, and perhaps as a way to get her mind off of the pain that surged in a pulse through her entire body. Both hands braced her stance- one on the tiled wall beside, and one on the wall infront, until sh was leaning against it. She heard their voices, but paid no mind, the gun still in her right hand yet she knew the clip was empty. Alex returned, telling her it was just a stray mutt. She smirked, and even attempted to laugh. The 'stray mutt' was then heard, and came in to full view- empty handed but that did not mean he was unarmed. Anastasia could not tell that he was a lycan, but according to Alex's words he was either that or a werewolf. Looking in the mans direction cautiously, yet not too menacing of a glare, before letting her weapon drop to the ground just outside of the bathtub. She was now unarmed, surely he could relax.

Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yourself
I'm alive! Sick of the pain I'm sick of the sorrow
Sick of today I'm sick of tomorrow

The lycan seemed more interested in the whereabouts of vampires, and the metallic scent of her blood surely could attract a few of them. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. His comments toward Alex being her lover, and romeo, made her shake her head yet she knew it was pointless to argue. If she would have walked in on a situation like this, it would have been the first thought to pop in to her mind as well. "Cyanide." She whispered before coughing softly with a wince. "You'll find those walking corpses all over that place." Her obvious dislike for the vampire kind showing through as she watched Rufiel carefully. There seemed to still be tension in the air, and right now, Ana was far from feeling up to a fist fight, seeing as she was unarmed. Stepping carefully with a heavy lean on one side, she stepped over the edge of the bathtub and used the wall to support herself and began to make her way out of the bathroom. She had weapons on her bed, and just having them in her hand would make her feel a lot more comfortable.

I'm addicted to the misery in my head
I better stop before I end up dead

[Deleted]

"I trust you, Alex."

Those few words shocked him. He quirked a brow at her and the expression on his face was rather priceless. If someone had a camera they should have taken a picture of his face, a mixture of surprise, confusion and well.. a little happiness. A smile finally etched it's way onto his features and he grinned softly, "Glad to hear it Anastasia." His voice was somewhat appreciative of the fact that she did trust him. As she took his hand he noticed her eyes, a piercing stare as if to reassure him that the statement was true.. He looked back, a silent appreciation etched on his face. He for some reason seemed to genuinely give a shit about the woman and that was a rare thing. He went back to his work, one handed he rather gracefully and nimbly took pieces of the fabric away from her flesh, working fast and furiously trying not to mess up as he worked. He could feel her pain and for that reason he worked carefully, and worked skillfully

"Its.. not your fault. Alex."

As he worked and she said that he looked up. "I regret having to cause you pain like this. But its the only way." He murmured quietly before he went back to work. He hated seeing anyone in pain, her, or other people, it hurt him a lot to watch them and him be powerless.. the fact that now he had the power to possibly save someones life seemed to make him all the more happy. Yeah he seemed to be pretty content with himself now that he had the power to save lives instead of take them. His brown eyes focused on the exit of the wound now. He took the same blade and cut the top vertically and repeated the process of taking the fabric from the wound once more. His jaw clenched and his eyes locked on what he was doing. His fingers barely touched her skin, as if he was afraid of what would happen. Who knew the rather klutzy man was actually dexterous beyond what many people would think of him. Once he finished that, he looked at the exit wound which was also bleeding profusely. Looking at her he sighed. "Please dont think of me as a pervert for this. with a single smooth motion he had cut the tank away from her body. "The best way to keep yourself from bleeding like this is tying the shirt like a bandage.." He trailed off and worked once more.

Once the strips of cloth were tied around her waist he stood up and heard the chain, and Anastasia stand and fire off a few rounds in that direction. Running over and after spotting the Lycanthrope he growled at him as he nonchalantly said to him, "Now hold on there, lover boy, I've got no ill intentions here... with all the blood little miss Clint Eastwood over there seems to be so generous in donating to the walls and floor, I thought I'd find an entire coven of Vampires here... guess I was wrong." No. Oh Hell no. Alex frowned deeply at the man anger seemingly flooding his being. "What the fuck? Can a Friend be take care of another friend when they're hurt? Jesus just because a guy has a friend that is a woman doesn't mean hes dating her" He growled. Damn did that piss him off, that ignorance that seemed to eminate off of him. How he wanted to just beat his face in for what he just said.. But unfortunately it got worse for Alex... Much worse...

"Well, seems like I won't find any bloodsucking bastards standing here and swallowing insults from the both of you Any of you know where they like to mingle? I've got some business with those rats with wings..."

He looked at him, when they were back inside the apartment. "Depends on the kind of vampire, but they all like to Mingle at Cyanide. If you're looking for the main bloodsucker coven look for Kayen Storm. If you're looking for the Psychic variety look for Edward Guille" He muttered walking back over to the woman whom was shivering from the cold water and shock. He helped her towards her bed and sighed looking at the weapons. Sitting her down on the bed he turned again and listened to the rude Lycan, he hated people like this... okay he didnt hate them but he did seem to show an obvious dislike and un fondness towards them. His eyes seemed to narrow and his anger flared like never before.

"And for God's sake, romeo... get that woman to a hospital If she's too stubborn to want to live, knock her out and drag her half dead carcass to an emergency room. What kind of mate are you, anyway?"

If this were some form of cartoon, the mans face would be a comically over exxagerated angry face. He walked over to the man and smiled almost as if he was planning something, something dark washed over him and he smiled as he knew he had an un loaded gun in his pocket. Walking towards the Lycan man he spoke softly and menacing. "That woman is not even close to what you would call a "mate". Im not even dating her, let alone fucking her." Slowly he drew the gun and placed it to the Lycans head. the gun wasnt loaded so as he pulled the trigger only a small 'click' was heard and he frowned. "Consider that a warning Mutt." His voice was dark, as if he was an entirely different person, but he went to the bed and grabbed a blade from it and slipped off his coat and gave it to her. "Put that on, Im not bringing you to the hospital without something over you. You'll get sick." He sighed out loud and waited for her to reply as well as the Lycan whom now Alex was completely angry with.

Don't assume things about the man, after all it makes an ass out of you and me.

[rufiel]

"You done with your idle threats, tough guy?" Rufiel snarled as he turned his head over to the side, his hands still buried deep within his pockets. "You two keep pointing guns around at everybody that walks by, and you're gonna have a rough time makin any friends." Casually he took a step back and eyed the woman cautiously. Cyanide... the club down the street from his apartment. He had picked up some unnaturally foul odors from that direction, but considering the neighborhood he lived in he automatically blamed the stench on the heaps of trash outside of his apartment building. So now he was certain... the vampires mingled at that club. Judging from the tone in her voice, she seemed to harbor some type of resentment towards the Vampires.

Oh well... the more the merrier.

"Now then... I guess I know what I've got to do" Rufiel said as he removed a hand from his pocket, his hand once again bloodied by the emergence of his claws. "I'll crush them... every last one of them alone if I have to!" He glanced back at the pair, his eyes a bit more serious than they had been a second ago. "You both seem to know a lot about them. Why don't you join me? You both know how to handle a gun it seems, and I'm sure that sword romeo over there is carrying isn't for show."

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a small paper as well as a small black pen. He quickly scribbled his address upon it before rolling it up into a ball and tossing it before the two of them. "Obviously you both have some things to tend to... I'll wait for about a month max until you're all patched up. In a month's time, I'm tearing that god damned vampire hub down brick by brick" he muttered angrily. "I'll give you till then to contact me with an answer. I don't give a shit if you don't answer me by then or you chicken out... just thought you should know my intentions after I so unexpectedly/i] invited myself to your household."

Rufiel made such a gesture out of sheer ambition only. His goal was in sight now, and he didn't care about being held back by something as flimsy as friendship. He had the goal, he had the power, and now he had the knowledge. Until he breathed his last, he wouldn't rest until his claws had torn asunder every shred of vampires involved with the murder of his only family. He was completely comfortable with those who shared the same hatred towards vampires... to him it just reduced the risk factor, and such alliances could easily be nullified once the task was accomplished. Another toothy grin spread across Rufiel's face as he imagined avenging his beloved parents with his own two hands.

"Well then, let me know if I'm wasting my time here. You in or out?"

[poss]

For crying out loud I'm running from a comedown
God forbid I know I've been a letdown
Reaching for the sky while leaving in a gutter
Kicking and screaming I am singing bloody murder

Alex tied the strips of material around her waist, and she held her breath, biting her bottom lip as he tied them tight on the wound. The pain was beginning to offer a numbing effect, something she half relished in and half feared. It wasn't a good sign, but it meant she could move around without as much head splitting pain. Numbness was a loss of feeling, and she cherished it as Alex helped her over to the bed where her weapons lay. Two silver knives, 5" that went in sheaths that buckled around her ankles. She had worn the wrist sheaths earlier that day when she had gone for a jog, leaving the ankle ones behind so that she didn't scare people on the street. Wearing short jogging shorts, they would have been visible to the eye, but now she had no care what people saw and what they didn't. It was more about getting fixed up than getting looked over. She rolled on to one hip, simply in the black lace bra and black shorts as she grabbed one of the ankle sheaths and bent at the hip, bringing her foot up as high as she could to buckle it to her ankle. And then the other foot. It was a slow process, but it seemed the men had more important things to talk about, such as who was and who wasn't whos mate and what not. Confusing male bullshit. She didn't care what some stranger thought about her and Alex, she knew what they had- a friendship based on the experiences they had recently, and that was it.

I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul
I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel

Grabbing the longer blade, almost a foot in length and sharpened on either sides with a serrated cutting edge on both, she set it beside her. Her other hand took the pistol that lay on top of the sheets in hand, removing the clip and pushing in a fresh one, cocking it and then putting the safety on as she set it in her lap. Her attention then turned to the men in her room, having tried to ignore their comments over the past few minutes as best she could. One hand gripping the long blade, the other grasping the pistol, and both ankle sheaths in place with the 5" blades handy, she pushed herself from the foot of the bed to a stand. She winced, the pain jolting through her system, but her stride never faltered. The material tied around her bare waist was soaking up the blood that would have otherwise been spilling from her open wounds. Her attention turned to Alex momentarily. "Okay. I'll go to a hospital- but I use a fake name. If anyone hears about this I could lose my job." And yes, that was priority over her own life.

Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yourself
I'm alive! Sick of the pain I'm sick of the sorrow
Sick of today I'm sick of tomorrow

A moments hesitation, waves f deafening pain pulsing through her body as she took a step closer to the stranger. He seemed jittery. Seemed to anticipate the meeting with the vamps at the Cyanide. Months ago she wouldn't have waiting for anyone, she would have gone in there on her own, and yet, standing here nw, she began to have a familiar feeling that she, too, wanted them dead. She nodded, still biting her bottom lip, letting the hand with the blade to fall to her side, the right hand with the pistol across her waist putting pressure on the bandage as blood began to seep from its hold. "I'm in." She said bluntly, watching his eyes for a response to her reply. "But I don't know about going in to something this big with a stranger. How do I know you wont turn around and kill me, too?" Perhaps Anastasia thought everyone knew her past without needing to be told. The fact she used to be the primary hunter for this region seemed to keep her on her toes- she was used to getting midnight visits from strangers wanting to slit her throat or gut her like a pig while she slept. Always on her toes.

I'm addicted to the misery in my head
I better stop before I end up dead