t h e . u s u a l . t r e a t m e n t . O P E N

[Conner Miller]

Blood trickled down the forehead of a lone teen who walked calmly through the gardens, at about two in the morning. The fighter's body was exquisitely formed, the result of many hours spent in the gym. Bruises littered his form under the partly torn muscle shirt. He was limping slightly, but he seemed dangerous nonetheless. Nothing about him seemed weak, a pistol loosely held in his hand, the metal still hot. Blood still so fresh, he couldn't possibly go into his dorm room. Leaving a crimson trail to his room, the possibility of being caught... No, he'd remain outside a while longer.

Conner already had his mind off of what had just gone down to put him in this state. Instead, he was thinking about all he had done last weekend. Anna... A smile slid onto his features. A very sneaky, coy smile. And Dorian. Dorian had a very nice... Wait... His heart started pounding; he could feel the sudden rush in his blood. He was blushing for no reason, tail poofed and rigid, ears out to the sides. This was a guy he was thinking about, and yet his stomach was flipping and he felt ever so flustered. This was how he'd been around girls at twelve, though he'd always swallowed that nervous buzz. It had obviously gone quite a while ago. Bit here it was, returned in the form Dorian. He sat on the bench, trying to come to terms with these feelings this boy aroused. Certainly he couldn't be attracted to him, could he?




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[Anna Demidov]

It was unlike the young woman to wander around so late at night. In fact, Anna was more or less the type to require about nine solid hours of sleep, otherwise she would be very cranky indeed when morning reared its ugly head. But this was not a usual night, seeing as she had been awoken a half hour earlier with one very vivid and disturbing nightmare. Unable to fall back asleep, the sacrifice had gotten changed, slipping quietly out of her dorm room to enter the grounds with a slow thoughtful wandering. She was wearing a jacket and a pair of flannel plaid pajama pants, topped off with a pair of all-stars that fit comfortably on her feet. All in all, Anna looked as though she were the kid who had just rolled out of bed- comfortable, but most certainly not professional. Then again, who would be, when it was this time of night? Or, she thought, would it be morning?

The gardens had been one of her favorite places. She had met Alex here. A small smile, the shy little one that a young girl was known for, slid her lips upward. She had also met Avery, one of the younger students here. However, he had seemed to possess a strangeness about him, something that made her nearly pity him. At the same time, Anna knew from his fighter that in battle, the Zero was a force to be reckoned with. And Anna was not the one who ever wanted to do the reckoning. For the sacrifice she was, Anna tended to gravitate away from pointless fights. She would spar for practice, for a tournament, but to fight merely to do so was something below the brunette. It was at the sound of footsteps that made her jump from her seat on one of the many little stone benches they had; some were beginning to gather moss and other sorts of plant life.

Her ears flicked in the direction of the sound, eyes straining slightly in the dim lighting to make out the figure that was headed her way. She took a step forward, her eyes narrowed with suspicion and slight wariness. Well, it was two in the morning, after all. Despite the safety of the campus grounds, Anna could feel her tail puffing up, held rigid for a few moments as her mind raced to identify the person who had intruded on her slight solitude. "Conner." There was a small breath of relief when the junior recognized the older guy from the school dance; he had more than irritated her fighter, Evee. The woman walked toward him slightly. With the lighting, it had taken her a few heartbeats to relax just what was wrong with the picture of the dashing young delinquent before her.

"Conner! What happened to you?" she asked him, her voice raised from the low breath to a quiet exclamation, nothing above a normal tone of voice. Anna was breaking the rules, yes, but Conner looked as though he had been out breaking the law. Although she didn't know the fighter unit too well, Anna was more than concerned when she saw just how bloodied his body was. The sacrifice stood a few feet away from him, her warm brown eyes taking in his form with something like a mix of horror, pity, and concern. There was no way he had sustained these wounds from a spell battle; no, this was something more. Anna bit her lip, her eyes focusing on the pistol for a few seconds, before they lifted to his eyes. "Do lumberjacks always get into triuble like this?"

[Conner Miller]

The pistol's barrel had smudges of another man's blood on it. Conner was wiping it off on the edge of his shirt. "What a f***ing mess," he groaned, exasperated. Eleven of them. How could that be remotely necessary? Well, he had taken them all and won, but he felt like shit now. He was surprised that they thought so highly of him... He let his gun rest on the bench, gingerly peeling off the shirt. "Excellent," he hissed, ears flat. The blade that had broken off in his abdomen was still there. Deeper now. The crowbar had pulled a fair amount of skin off, bruising the entire area to boot. And a bullet needed picked out of his back, just above his shouldering blade. He was thankful that dense, tense muscle stopped bullets. Mr. Miller wouldn't dare touch his head. He was pretty much beyond reacting to pain, or letting it overtaking his mind, but he had no intention in inducing more. Taking a baseball bat to the head; it was a miracle he was still alive.

Blood was still dripping from his head, but he hardly cared. It would stop soon. At the moment, he was practically laying on the bench, his fingers in the knife wound as he tried to get a good grip on the metal. The pain was to the point that it was putting stars across his vision, but his face was simply serious. Finally, he had it pinched, digging into his thumb. As gingerly as he could, he pulled it out, trying to keep from doing anymore damage. A chunk clung to it and he grimaced, as it was a bit disgusting. "Lovely," was all he could say. He didn't know about the lead in his back. He would have to call Britney, see if she was free to take care of it. He wanted to keep this as low as he could. He looked out to see a small pair of eyes, right as Anna walked up.

He shushed her, and held up a hand, slowly standing up. He was not very nimble right now, but he spoke softly as he got to the spot where he'd seen those eyes. His voice was endearing as he got down on his knees. The plants rustled quietly, and his bloody hand was wiped on his jeans. In moments, there was a particularly young kitten in his arms. It looked haggard and rough, underfed, certainly stray. It seemed younger than a cat should be to leave its mother. The fighter spoke to it as if were his newborn child. Until the kitten was content and warm, seeming to doze off in his lap, kept safe by the teen's large hands, he didn't give any attention to Anna.

"Sorry, but I can't talk with such a little guy looking at me," he said quietly, stormy blue eyes constantly flicking back down to the kitten. "But, yes. In my case, this is not too terribly unusual. Rarely get it this bad, but yeah. And this is me slowly getting out of trouble. Do you have a spare rag, or towel on you by any chance?" He was keeping it casual so she wouldn't have anything to feed on for a panic attack. His mind was whirring now. Thoughts of Anna and Dorian returned, tempered by the presence of his newest room resident, who needed naming. He knew it was a boy at least.




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[Anna Demidov]

Brown eyes watched the young man as he worked, slowly eyeing up all of his wounds. it was not something that Anna was terribly familiar with. However, being a sacrifice, she knew the basics of the body. At least, seeing as he had removed a few of the afflicting weapons from his person's flesh, he seemed to know more than she did. Anna fell silent as the fighter shushed her, watching as he rose. She gritted her teeth as she did so. It went against her nature to see Conner -- to see anyone -- in so much pain to get back up like that, where she was unable to help them. Never before had she seen such massive damage done to anyone before. She wasn't all that sheltered; she just hadn't been involved with people who regularly came home with injuries like that. The young woman's eyes followed Conner, her tail held low for the time being. A small sound escaped her as she saw him lift the kitten. Yes, he was indeed too small for the life of a stray just yet.

She walked over slowly, quietly, seating herself next to Conner. Her eyes scanned his wounds as his large but gentle hands lulled the young feline into a peaceful sleep. There was something in Conner that Anna recognized as good and whole. Yet, looking at the man here, she knew that he had gotten himself into some serious trouble. Anna bit her lip, unable to hide her true concern for Conner. "I understand," she said, although her voice was tense with concern. That was a lie -- Anna didn't understand him at all. How could he just shove off such injuries? Anna couldn't believe that the fighter was able to sustain such damage. Hell, even she would have a little bit of difficulty in dealing with what he had appeared to have sustained.

Her hands were clasped together. Anna was concerned that the man would bleed out before her, yet he seemed perfectly alright with the situation that he was in. His calmness perplexed Anna and at the same time intrigued her. "You make this a regular sort of thing, do you?" There was a small bite to her tone of voice, unhappy that someone was able to put themselves through so much pain on a regular basis. The young woman sighed, before she spoke quietly. "Not today, no. But if you want my jacket.." Her voice trailed off, her eyes focusing on the copious amount of blood that seemed to color his form scarlet. She pulled her sleeve over her palm, her actions gentle and very soft. She wiped away the drying blood from his forehead. Cuts and general injuries to the head that broke the skin seemed to bleed more than other parts of the body, making it seem as though the worst injury was there. Thankfully, this was not quite the case, as far as Anna could see. Then again, the sacrifice was not used to something like this.

The tail of the young woman curled, lightly brushing against Conner. "What else can I do?" she prompted him further. There was a need to Anna, something a bit more urgent. She could not stand the sight of his injuries, and the only way to alleviate her own pain from that was to busy herself with doing something to help him. She was a machine when it came to assisting someone who needed it. In her book, Conner needed it physically. Evee was the top ranked, not because she was her fighter, but because the woman had suffered greatly.

[Conner Miller]

Conner just kept petting that gray kitten for the longest time. "Please don't touch my head right now. I know you are trying to help and your heart is in the right place, but I was smashed in the head with a baseball bat, and my skull is throbbing terribly. I'm seeing stars off and on. Nerve overload." His voice and posture didn't reflective his freakishly honest words. He pointed back to the bench. "I won't have you ruin your coat when I already have rags." He popped out a butterfly knife, opened it, then sat it on the ground for her to grab. "Cut the shirt into two inch wide strips." It was hard to keep his breath light, as while he could very well manager the pain, his body still reacted properly. He willed his heartbeat to slow, so less blood pumped out. He waited for the cloth, appreciating Anna's presence even if he said nothing.

When she returned with the cloth, he folded a strip into a large pad, put it onto the knife wound, then tied another around to keep it in place. Then he did similarly with the large gash from the crowbar. He then looked out of the corner of his eye at her. "There is a bullet in my back. It's in a sensitive spot, and it's still hot. If you could pull it out without getting sick, that would be great." He could just then wrap the rest of the cloth around it. "Use one hand to brace yourself on my back, and the other to pull it out. Don't worry about the digging. Minor pain at this point. Just hook a finger around it to loosen it, then grab it and pull it out. Just throw it away." Conner gave her an apologetic smile. "We can go to my room after that. I'll need a good bit of help then."




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[Anna Demidov]

The rebuke from Conner wasn't harsh, but it was an order that the young sacrifice followed. She had not meant to cause him more harm, but the injuries to his head needed to be looked at too. She held back a small slip of the tongue, knowing very well that some dry humor wouldn't be appreciated here. Her hand retracted, ears pressed back, and she mumbled a small apology concerning his injury to his head. She had not realized.. then again, she should have asked. Her hand took the knife from him. "You sure? I have plenty more." Her voice was soft and insistent, but she was already cutting the cloth into the size that Conner had specified. Dutiful and quiet, Anna worked until she had succeeded in fulfilling the simple task.

Slender hands held the cloth strips, gently handing them to Conner. She could appreciate his handyman sort of attitude about it. Well, Conner had said that this was moderately normal for him. As soon as the fighter had said the word 'bullet', her eyebrows raised in question, though she said nothing. The gun had her a little bit uneasy, but to know that he had been shot at was another story and idea entirely. "You were shot at and hit. What the hell did you do?" Her voice was quiet but firm, a bit curious and a tad scolding as she got into the position that he had recommended. She would not be sick from something like this, just a tad bit queasy for a few moments. Figuring that it was better she did not tell Conner when she was going to remove it, her finger pried it from his flesh, before her thumb ducked into the wound to pull it out.

Anna's fingers closed around the bullet. Unable to look at it, she turned and threw it into the gardens, away from an area where someone might stumble upon it. She sighed before turning back to look at the injury on his back. Her hands helped him with the remaining few strips of cloth, bandaging the fighter up as best as she could. Anna wiped the blood on her pants, seeing as it barely showed up anyways. Red on red. "Let me know when you;re ready to go." She wasn't going to push him into going to his room until he felt he was up to it. "You really took a bat to the back of your head?" Her voice was slightly disbelieving, a bit uncertain of him. She had met him briefly, had made some friendly contact, but after that dance -- hardly nothing. Anna was unsure of how to interpret him, and hesitant as a result.

[Conner Miller]

"Of course I'm sure," he had chuckled. "It's very ruined." He had plenty of t-shirts. But he didn't really want to answer her question. He would give an honest answer, but he didn't need to give all the details. "Well, I was sort of fighting off a few guys at the same time, because I f***ed around with their friend's wife.... Among other things. She's hot, okay. I didn't see the gun, but I heard him cock it, so I partly dodged it. It woulda really had my name on it otherwise. But I'm alive, that's what I care about. To help this little man out." He'd talked without fail, as she'd pulled the bullet out. His muscled had tensed, and his breath had caught a bit, nut HR was happy with it.

Slowly, he stood, doing his best not disturbing his new pet. Conner popped the rounds out of the nine millimeter, putting it away. "Now," he replied. He began walking toward the dorms, thinking about how to explain the bat. Conner was opening the door to the building, careful not to be seen. "Yeah. Real skinny bastard. He didn't hit hard enough, and I.... ummmn.... disarmed him." He was sneaking through the common room, and was finally unlocking his room door. An Orange tabby lay on his bed, meowing loudly at Conner. Philomena sat in her little abode over the television, quite asleep. The room looked nice. A past girlfriend had made it nice, and most importantly, easy to keep clean.




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       comments | | Anyone is still free to join, though, no one who would talk would be welcomed by Conner. He doesn't need more messes to clean up. Not too many more people.

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[Anna Demidov]

It came as no surprise to Anna to find that Conner had been involved with illegal activities, especially the sort that he had spoke of which had gotten him into such a mess in the first place. She bit her bottom lip, mulling over the information as he spoke to her. Anna was unsure of how to take him; Conner was a type that she had not really been involved with before. It was a new world to Anna. She was a good kid for the most part, the kind that wasn't likely to end up in jail -- unlike the fighter before her. She was happy to see him stand almost immediately, though. He was going to be alright and was less injured than she had thought he would have been. "Impressive." Her word was curt and for a moment could have held enough venom. But then Anna spoke again, "And you claim this is all on a regular basis. Doesn't this concern you?"

But then she fell silent as they skulked across the grounds of their school. The two would be in enough trouble for being out at this time of night, but paired with Conner's state of health and the gun that he had recently unloaded, Anna was sure they'd both be beaten within an inch of their lives.. or expelled. Sighing, she followed him, slipping into the dorms behind the fighter. She was quiet, her tail swishing back and forth, ears flicking in an attempt to catch any far off sounds that might alert her to anyone coming. There were none, thankfully, even as she slid into his dorm room. Add that to the list of rules broken. Anna was surprised to see the two animals in his room -- now another was added.

She showed her hand to the orange tabby after shutting his door quietly behind her. Anna let the animal sniff her before she ran her fingers through the ginger fur, soft and silky. He had given her the abbreviated version of his experience, Anna knew. Then again, she wouldn't be completely honest, either. She was surprised to see how tidy the room was, considering the student who lived in it. "Now what? You'll be needing stitches, won't you? They seem to be pretty deep. Unless you plan on using some spells to heal yourself up?" Anna asked him, tossing her jacket to the floor by the door. She was in a black tank-top, her bra underneath. She also slipped her shoes off, trying to get a bit more comfortable. She had a feeling she would be here a little while.

[Conner Miller]

Conner moved to his bed, laying the kitten down, speaking to it about its new life. He was pretty much subconsciously speaking in a spell. The kitten was aware of the importance of the litter box now. He petted the little guy, and let him have at the room. "Chloe, baby girl. Be nice to Loui. He's into your milk, let him have it. And he'll probably want to snuggled with you tonight. Be a good girl," his voice soft and gentle as he rubbed his face against her side, listening to her melatonin before her purring became loud. "She likes her belly rubbed." His hand ran all through her fur, before is stood up and pulled out a drawer with needle and thread. The needle was curved, pretty much a suture. He then got a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, some gauze, and then some large bandages.

"Stitches? Of course. But I'll show you how to do that on my back. It doesn't need to be pretty." He took off his pants, wearing only plaid boxers underneath. Being indecent in front of a girl wasn't something out of the norm for him, so he didn't think that she might jump or be annoyed by the partial nudity. He pulled off the first wrapping, and ran some of the peroxide over it, wiping it with the gauze until it was clean and the bleeding had slowed significantly. "Now, you need to watch me. Because you volunteered to help, I would like you to do this to my back. Really, it's just like sewing, but with skin." He explained how the needle worked and showed her how to tie the knot, and how best to pierce the skin. Then he pulled off another wrapping, the one for where he'd been struck with the crowbar. And he did the same with that long gash.

He moved quite quick, and was obviously quite skilled. No flinching, no tending of the skin. Even when he pour a bit of whiskey over the end product, he was still just dandy. Then, he'd turn his back to her, waiting for her to do as he asked, not once making a noise through the process unless she asked a question. The whole time, he had to try his best to keep his gaze from traveling all over the attractive sacrifice. She was built rather well, and he was the type that could appreciate a good body on a woman.

[Anna Demidov]

As soon as the fighter began to speak to the little kitten, she could feel the essence of his skill leaking through. To a sacrifice, it was easily perceived. The spells were simple, yes; in this case, Conner was using it more like a subconscious compulsion upon his animals. Anna looked away, a tad bit concerned about the spider by the television. The 'spell' Conner spoke was crackling the air around her. It was probably just a sacrifice thing. She was able to pick up on spells used by her. Ever aware, Anna Demidov is. She held back a small burst of laughter, knowing very well that Conner wouldn't appreciate it too much.

"I never had cats.. Mom was allergic. Though I do like them." She smiled as he pulled away from Chloe, feeling the desire to run her fingers through the orange feline's soft belly fur. There was nothing like hearing a cat purr. She gave him an odd look as he stripped down to just his boxers-- plaid, like her pants. "We match," she smirked a little bit, though it soon dropped as she listened to his instruction. Her warm eyes followed the needle as the wound was cleaned up, nicer and less nasty looking than it had been before. She nodded, asking af ew general questions here and there, but otherwise, Anna was alright. When he was ready for her to help him with his back, she did the same thing as Conner had. Her slender and smooth fingers pressed the clean and peroxide-ed gauze to the wound, cleaning it slowly, though she wasn't one to draw it out.

Her hands were shaking, if only slightly, as she took the needle. Without a word Anna began. She didn't give warning; would that make him flinch? Probably not, seeing as he had reacted not at all to the healing up of his other wounds. His body was beautifully sculpted, although with a few new scars to skin that would have been otherwise beautiful. The needle went through the skin, closing it up as best she could. I'm only sewing. Mending a bloody shirt, is all. Her breath was calm as she gained a little bit more confidence, finishing up the stitches cleaning, with minimal difficulty. They were, for the most part, very even and nice looking. Too bad he was covered in scars.. In fact, Anna wouldn't mind exploring his body, if only to see all of his marks of war. "All done." There was a small note of satisfaction in her voice, pleased that she had done a good enough job for someone who wasn't trained in the medical field.

Her hands lingered on his shoulders for a moment, enjoying the way they felt there. And then they were gone, the slender digits tucked away from him for the moment. Tempting, but she needed to stop that. It was a little after two in the morning. She plopped herself down on his bed, her toes, neatly painted, wiggling as she studied him. Anna lay on her stomach, eyes on him, her tongue flicking out to moisten her lips. She placed her head on her hands, propped up. "You really are a bad kid. I thought you were only joking at the dance."

[Conner Miller]

Conner laid back on his bed, after he'd put some giant bandages over the stitches, as a safeguard. He pulled the cat onto his chest, watching as the kitten snuggled into a blanket Conner left laying in a corner. "Ain't he cute?" he chuckled, watching him doze off. Chloe jumped off his chest, meowing in complaint at being manhandled. "Fine then." He rolled over more toward Anna, an eye brow lifting. She came off almost unsure of herself, the hesitation in her dainty hands over his shoulders, there were plenty of signs that he picked up on. As one would expected, given his status.

"Well, I rarely lie. Maybe downplay and omit facts, but I generally avoid spewing anything too far from the truth." Anna was probably nervous with this, unused to a male such as him. Hell, he doubted she'd been with anything other than good boys. Innocent little tame boys. He didn't fit that description. He pretty much was a man. Legally and in form and experience. Thus, he assumed he was safe to advance theoretically flirting more. "I certainly like how your pants match my boxers, but I'm more curious to see if you underwear matches mine." Sultry, but not coming off as sex obsessed. He'd stop advancing if she asked him to.

The fighter put his large hands on her waist, Conner's dexterous touch gentle, and shouldn't have been uncomfortable. Then, he'd have lifted her from the covers so far away, putting her much closer, sort of sitting her on his stomach or laying her close to his side. Whichever she appeared more comfortable with. "This may come as a surprise to you, but I don't really mind physical contact. In fact, I actually like it. It's quite lovely to feel your fingers trace over the ridges and such. I've so many, I've thought about playing connect the dots. In fact, my muscles are still a bit sore. I work out everyday, so getting in a fight for how long afterwards against nasty odds only makes me realize how hard I pushed myself on the weights. So your touch is appreciated." A crooked grin crept across his features, letting her know that he found her very attractive. The long dark hair against his skin felt quite nice, and he ran his fingers through it. "Of course, that's not all that I'm fond of. A few kisses perhaps?" There were other girls that he wouldn't have even bother talking with them before he started moving in, as they were obvious about how much they wanted him, wanted all the sensual and erotic interaction. Anna wasn't without her ears, even if Conner couldn't lose his no matter how he tried. It didn't matter how many times he'd do a woman in a single night, she still yank on his ears the next morning to warn him that her fiancee would be home in ten minutes and he need to pick up his clothes and get the condom off the lamp shade.

[Anna Demidov]

Conner's general assumptions about Anna were correct. She had never known another person, at least, not in the most intimate of ways -- she still had her ears and tail. It was something that Anna had considered though never really thought about. She was a good girl, yes, the sort who got good grades and worked hard. Despite her friendliness, Anna was a person driven by a force within herself, the competitiveness that didn't like it too much when she was bested. However, this was now a totally new arena for the young woman, and right now, she didn't have a shield or a sword to defend herself with. But then again, the young woman welcomed his advances; they were playful without being overly pressing, enough that he earned a smile from the young woman. Her tail curling up slightly, there was a small tiwtch at the tip, her interests peaked. Like the two cats Conner had in his possession, so was she-- easy enough to read if one was looking for the right signs.

Complying with ease that she found a bit unnerving to her -- Anna had never thought that she would be so easily influenced -- the young woman rested against him slightly, her long hair brushing against his skin, the soft strands on occassions tickling the scarred flesh of his body. There was a small flush on her cheeks, a hint at her nervousness and inexperiencee, but nothing that couldn't be removed over time. It was a bit less than it had been before, his soothing touches putting her t ease. It had surprised her to find the brawler speaking so eloquently. Yet, she had known he was smart.. perhaps not one for words, Anna had originally thought. But she was proved wrong, and the smile that had graced her lips earlier returned as he finished off speaking about his truths and lies. A small purr was rising in the back of her throat as he pet her hair, running his fingers through the dark colored strands that she took well care off. Some of her family could purr, while others could not. It was something that she had discovered with her brother. When he had his ears, he had no ability to make the happy sound of cats whatsoever. Anna had assumed it was a genetic thing.

"Mm." The sound was low and at the same time feminine, appreciative of his good looks and toned body. Anna's eyes focused on his for a few moments, reading them before she spoke again. Sitting on his stomach allowed her some control, and a bit better view of the very sexy man before her. The tips of her fingers slid across his chest, tracing the scars that were there, though she took enough care not to goo too near the fresh wounds on him, for fear that she would cause him greater harm. "I enjoy being touched. It's comforting. Although I'm sure you like physical contact for other reasons as well." Her lips turned up quickly into a small grin, though her fingers did not stop their exploration of his body.

"Maybe you shouldn't push yourself so hard. Not to be rude, Conner, but I think that if you plan on getting into a fight everyday, it would be better for your general wellbeing if you didn't exhaust yourself beforehand." Her words rang true, although she doubted that he would listen to her. Her ears gave a small flick as the kitten stirred in the blanket, though they resumed their usual position. The ears on her were a bit larger than some people's; although she was not ridiculed for it, it was discernable at times, like now. His suggestion of a few kisses interested Anna. Of course she had kissed boys-- then again, Conner was most certainly no boy. "I don't know. You'll have to do a better job of convincing me than that. You're wounded, and I am honor-bound to now look after you. Kisses might not be the best way to help.." Her voice trailed off, all of its playfullness still within her tone. "You might taste yucky, fighter." Another teasing remark. One of his hands left the scarred skin, brushing away his hair to make sure that the wound on his forehead was alright for now. "Casanova.. No wonder why everyone is mad at you for sleeping with their wives."