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Jan 11, 2015 21:36:03 GMT -5
Post by Paige Anderson on Jan 11, 2015 21:36:03 GMT -5
The dark red motorcycle zipped through the busy New York City streets going way faster than it should have been. Paige let her line of sight travel down to the gauge to see she was pushing sixty-five miles per hour and she still wanted to go faster. Perhaps this wasn’t her greatest of life choices but she was not known for her spectacular choices and she had always been overly confident on her bike. Nothing had gone wrong before so why would it now?
She was wrong and she knew it from the very moment that child walked out into the street, its mother quick to dash out and scoop the kid up but it was too late for them to get out of the way. By that time her bike was nearing seventy and there was no way she could stop it in time. She reacted quickly and veered to the side, knowing the price she was going to pay as her bike hit the ground and skidded across the pavement, dragging her with it. The bike came to a halt a foot away from the young mother and her child, a boy that was clutching to the string of the balloon he ran out to catch, and the werewolf relaxed, letting her fully helmeted head hit the pavement while she took a couple of deep breaths. People quickly surrounded her to make sure she was okay and even though she wasn’t sure of the answer herself she didn’t want anyone helping her. “Back off!” she growled, causing the crowd to back away from her. She quickly pointed at man that was calling 911, “Hang it up. NOW.” she demanded with a growl and with the last syllable he did. Then she pushed herself up off the pavement on her achy right side, taking notice of her shredded red leather jacket and the blood underneath it. With some extra effort–and refusal to accept anyone else’s help–she managed to get out from underneath the bike, get herself up off the ground, grab the bike with her good arm, and pull it with her while she limped until it was laying against the curb. “FUCK!” she shouted beneath the visor of her helmet, not caring what glares she received when she did it. She needed to clean up and assess the damage so she limped to the nearest door, Fire and Ice Diner, with the intentions to use the bathroom to clean herself up a bit.
When she entered, helmet still on, she earned a few looks. She could smell that the place was werewolf run and that alone almost made her turn around and walk out but the combination of blood, road rash, and partially shredded clothing stopped her. “Bathroom?”she asked the closest person who quickly pointed to it. “Thanks.” she said roughly before she limped her way to restroom, praying that everyone would leave her alone, and entered. She removed her jacket slowly to examine the damage done to her arm, side, and leg. wincing at it all in the mirror.
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To put it simply, Drake, I'm building you an army.
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Jan 18, 2015 17:13:16 GMT -5
Post by Camilla Stromme on Jan 18, 2015 17:13:16 GMT -5
[attr="class","textbox"]The day had been busy, and at the very cusp of the lunch rush, even Camilla couldn't find a moment of peace. Understaffed for one of the biggest times of day, she had been rushing back and forth from kitchen to dining room, giving her best smile and her sweetest greetings. Sometimes her accent caused her to flounder for the right words or made it a necessity to repeat herself, but for the most part she had done well. Carrying yet another tray of dirty dishes back to the kitchen, Camilla paused when she realized that her dishwashers shift had just ended. The little werewolf was very clearly ready to get out of there, and it only served to make her panic a little. The diner was already understaffed today. It just meant that she had to pick up even more of the slack. At least until the next shift came in. She spent the next hour running back and forth, taking food to tables and removing the used dishes before washing up what she could. It was almost too loud in the place to hear the crash just outside of the diner, but werewolf hearing had never failed her before. Camilla frowned to herself, quickly wiping her hands off on a towel before exiting the kitchen. The patrons were all lined up by the windows to see what had happened. A sense of panic settled into Camilla's stomach when she realized that it was, in fact, a crash of some sort. She started to push through the crowds, asking for a little space so that she could get outside. That was before the door opened and she and all the other supernatural creatures in the diner were hit with the scent of werewolf blood. Brows furrowed, she observed as the blonde woman limped into her diner, asking for the bathroom. One of the waiters pointed her toward the back, and Cami was grateful. He'd pointed her toward the private restrooms that were for employee use only, obviously knowing that she wouldn't want the public walking in on her to see if she was alright. The werewolf female was clearly determined to take care of her injury without heading to the hospital, and considering her species, Camilla couldn't argue with that. Instead, she followed behind the woman, instructing the staff to get the crowd back under control and to get the kitchen moving again. She passed by the small bathroom and unlocked the staff entrance to the apartments above the diner before turning back to the restroom. She knocked on the door lightly before opening it slowly, poking her head in. The injuries to this woman were worse than she had expected at first, and Cami frowned slightly. "Hey, how about we get you cleaned up, alright? Come with me. We'll get you out of the diner and upstairs," Cami said softly, stepping into the bathroom, her voice soft yet quite commanding, daring the other werewolf to argue. Cami wasn't going to let this woman go without at least some sort of medical attention, and Cami had spent quite a bit of her life patching up various injuries. This would be no different, especially since she knew that Paige seemed to want the privacy. Paige Anderson[newclass=.textbox::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:vertical]background-color:#81003e;border:solid 2px #eaeaea;border-radius:2px;[/newclass] [newclass=.textbox::-webkit-scrollbar]background-color:#eaeaea;width:8px;border:solid 3px #eaeaea;[/newclass] |
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Guess I have nothing to say.
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Jan 18, 2015 18:33:59 GMT -5
Post by Paige Anderson on Jan 18, 2015 18:33:59 GMT -5
After assessing the damage Paige had removed her helmet and left it to balance on top of her destroyed jacket lying on the sink. She had begun muttering various curses under her breath while she tried to figure out where to even begin to clean up but then a knock came and before she could even tell the person on the other side to fuck off the door was opened and there was a woman looking at her. Paige’s cold eyes turned into a glare and she was seconds away from verbally tearing this woman’s head off and then she spoke with that soft yet commanding, accented voice. Paige’s eyes softened just slightly at the offer of help but hardened again as she opened her mouth to refuse the offer, she had no interest in receiving help from anyone much less a stranger. Then a sharp pain shot from her elbow up to her shoulder and though she bit her tongue so she made almost no sound the pain flashed in her eyes. She needed some sort of help so she let her shoulders drop in defeat and nodded, “Sure… I could use some help getting cleaned up.” She admitted as she picked up her helmet and ruined jacket before looking at Cami fully.
She let her eyes swept over the shorter woman, quickly taking her in. Overworked, that much was clear, commanding, her tone and the way she carried herself like she wasn’t only 5’2” showed that, and last but certainly not least she was hot, but maybe that was lust whispering in her ear. “The name is Paige… And I would shake your hand but I don’t think I can raise my arm at the moment so I’ll take a rain check on that one.” her voice was full of its usual sarcastically defensive tone. “So… Let’s get upstairs because the sooner we do the sooner I can get out of here. Don’t want anyone to get the idea that I am a werewolf up for recruitment for their pack. I just want to clean up and then take care of my bike.” she motioned for Camilla to lead the way upstairs. She trusted absolutely no one, and though she was pro werewolves she didn’t want anyone to think she was some pack project that could be fixed with some ‘family’ and a place to go. Her rebellious heart was not to be tamed by some alpha that could just end up dead like the last one did, leaving her heartbroken and scarred. Not getting close to anyone in any way was the way she ensured the safety of her barely mended heart.
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To put it simply, Drake, I'm building you an army.
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Feb 6, 2015 21:59:24 GMT -5
Post by Camilla Stromme on Feb 6, 2015 21:59:24 GMT -5
[attr="class","textbox"]Camilla almost let out a sigh of relief when the woman, Paige was her name, accepted the help. However, she kept her strong composure just as she had for hundreds of years. She'd taken care of Drake's pack after he had left and she still hadn't stopped. At this point, however, she didn't care whether this woman belonged to a pack or not. She needed help and that was the only thing that truly mattered now. Stepping back toward the door, she poked her head out, slipping a set of keys from her pocket. Finding the coast clear, she opened the door fully, going to unlock the door to the upstairs just a few feet from the door. When she came back, she motioned for Paige to go up. "I'll grab your things. You focus on walking up the stairs on steady feet, yes?" she asked softly, picking up Paige's jacket and her helmet. She followed behind the other werewolf, glancing back as one of the waitresses came up to ask a question. Cami shook her head, "Go and ask Sebastian, Elysia. He's in charge until I get back." Camilla waved the girl off, closing the door to the stairs as soon as Paige started up and Cami could fit comfortably into the stairwell behind her. She locked the door once more, making sure to remain behind the woman just in case she stumbled. "I'm Camilla, but please, just call me Cami. Oh, and I'm going to hold you to that handshake, Miss," she said tenderly and just a tad bit playfully, sounding less commanding now that they were in private and she'd actually convinced the other werewolf to take the help. "We're going all the way to the apartment at the back. Straight ahead when you get to the stop of the stairs," Cami noted softly, running through the list of things that she would need to help patch Paige up. When they were finally moving through the hall, Cami slipped past the taller woman, rushing to the door at the end of the hall and unlocking it. She smiled up at Paige, "In you go, Miss. Just go straight in and sit at the kitchen table. I'll get everything that I need really quick."With that, she hurried off toward the bathroom, grabbing towels, a first aid kit, water, and even a small surgical kit that she kept hidden away for incidents like these. Paige Anderson[newclass=.textbox::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:vertical]background-color:#81003e;border:solid 2px #eaeaea;border-radius:2px;[/newclass] [newclass=.textbox::-webkit-scrollbar]background-color:#eaeaea;width:8px;border:solid 3px #eaeaea;[/newclass] |
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Guess I have nothing to say.
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Feb 10, 2015 18:29:17 GMT -5
Post by Paige Anderson on Feb 10, 2015 18:29:17 GMT -5
Paige was wholly unsure about leaving the confines of the bathroom even after she had agreed, she didn’t want anyone to see her and take further pity on her situation than they probably already did from her entrance but she was sure this werewolf wouldn’t even give her a chance to say otherwise. At least she made sure the coast was clear first. Paige stepped out of the bathroom and headed up the stairs, a tad slower than she would have liked die to the limp and her need to casually lean against a wall every few steps much to her distaste. She hated looking weak and that was likely to be the only impression the woman‒Cami was her name‒had of her so far. This whole ordeal almost had the blonde grabbing her things and booking it, never to show her face in this diner again for fear of being remembered. Lucky for Cami, she was blocking the only foreseeable exit and Paige was in no condition to struggle with her.
After what felt like a decade of struggle she was finally on the landing and the brunette was passing her, this was her chance to escape but for some reason or another she didn’t take it‒too entranced by Camilla to make a very slow run for it. “You can just call me Paige…. And uh… Thank you for your help, Cami.” She said with the most sincere and sarcasmless voice she knew how to muster before the girl could dash off to collect what she needed to clean her up. With that he did as the older werewolf said and made her way to the kitchen table, where she very gingerly sat down. She sat perched on the very edge of the seat with the right side of her body barely touching the surface of the chair for fear of causing herself more pain. Then she waited, staring at the entrance for woman to return.
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To put it simply, Drake, I'm building you an army.
Biography
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Feb 18, 2015 14:51:46 GMT -5
Post by Camilla Stromme on Feb 18, 2015 14:51:46 GMT -5
[attr="class","textbox"]The mousy little werewolf made sure to opened up her kit, ensuring that everything was in there before wandering back out to Paige, putting her best business face on. She needed to concentrate if she was going to properly patch up the younger werewolf. Carrying everything in her arms, she moved quickly from one room to the other, carrying towels and the supplies that she needed. When she made it back into the dining room, she set everything out on the table, turning back toward the kitchen and looking for a large bowl. She stared up at the cabinet, frustrated that she was too short to reach where she had put the larger bowls. Thankfully for her, she'd invested in a step stool, sliding it along the floor and hoisting herself up to rummage through the cabinet. She pulled down a large bowl, jumping off the stool and back onto the floor, filling it with warm water. Cami set the bowl on the table next to everything else, taking a moment to look her patient up and down for a moment. Biting her lip for a split second, she held up a pair of scissors. "You have two options. Take off the shirt, or I can cut it off and give you a spare to wear when everything is all said and done. Same with those pants too, missy. I'm sure one of the girls here is your size." Her accent was thick, and no, she wasn't trying to get into Paige's pants. She simply needed to have better access to the wounds that were mostly covered by her clothing. While she was waiting for a reply, she started to prepare the various towels and supplies, humming quietly to herself. She spread what she needed out across the table, snagging a hair band from her pocket and pulling her hair up and out of her face. Cami then slipped off her work apron, throwing it on one of the other dining room chairs. Out of sight, out of mind. Now she was focused and watching Paige with an expectant expression. Paige Anderson[newclass=.textbox::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb:vertical]background-color:#81003e;border:solid 2px #eaeaea;border-radius:2px;[/newclass] [newclass=.textbox::-webkit-scrollbar]background-color:#eaeaea;width:8px;border:solid 3px #eaeaea;[/newclass] |
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Guess I have nothing to say.
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Mar 31, 2015 21:26:09 GMT -5
Post by Paige Anderson on Mar 31, 2015 21:26:09 GMT -5
A carefully sculpted eyebrow rose at the remark about removing her clothing. She knew it was merely for medical purposes but it would be out of character if Paige there wasn’t some smart exchange back, “Fine, but next time you want to get me out of my clothes there better be dinner involved.” She said with a smirk. “My clothes are all torn up so I might have to accept your offer to get into someone else’s pants when we’re done here.” She was injured and felt weak so she had to cover herself with as much sarcasm as possible. Then she stood up carefully, using the table and the back of the chair she was occupying to push herself upwards into a standing position. “Try not to drool too much.” She quipped as she removed her calf high boots. Soon thereafter went her shirt, her muscles flexing as each movement sent some pain shooting through her side but her face remained passive‒biting the inside of her cheek so she couldn’t make a noise in response to the pain. With her shirt discarded with some effort she moved on to her pants, which proved to be a tad more difficult but as she struggled she made sure Cami was fully aware she didn’t want help right now, she already felt too weak when she accepted the help to clean her up in the first place.
Finally, when she was standing there in a black bra and red plaid underwear she caught a glimpse of the road rash and the various cuts and scratches and she visibly flinched from the sight. She had been denying how bad it truly was until this exact moment. Sure, it didn’t require hospital attention but they would definitely leave a nasty mark and did require a bit more attention that she would have liked to begin with. She mentally cursed the mother that had let her young son run out into the road for a balloon. She was much happier with this outcome rather than the alternative where the boy had been injured or worse she supposed. She resorted to mentally cursing herself for driving that quickly as well but maybe this would teach her a lesson not to do something so blatantly stupid that but others in danger. She gulped lightly as she peeled her eyes off her side and then gingerly returned to her seat. Her eyes met Camilla again and her brows furrowed, “Let’s get this started then shall we?”
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