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Post by Margaret Rosier on Oct 20, 2012 7:52:37 GMT 1
It wasn’t as easy as feeling something and acting upon it. Impulses had a way of getting her into more trouble than it was worth and simply because there was something, not yet unexplainable to her, between them didn’t mean that Margaret would abandon the person that she was, who she had been raised to be, as though it weren’t important. That loss of identity was frightening. To have everything that you believed in stripped away tore at the very fabric of self. People could be such petty things, indulging in their vices without much thought of the consequences but Maggie didn’t want to be like that. She didn’t want to allow herself to fall, to give up herself, only to be tossed away when she outlived her purposes. What would she be left with then? Maggie thought that sticking to her own set of morals was far safer and she needed that, she needed the security of only trusting in herself. It wasn’t a very happy way to live but it was all that she had.
Dakota might not have been light but Margaret wasn’t a weakling, unless her strength dwindled from her condition. Having been refreshed compliments of the chief of VSF she would be set until the next time her blood was drained or she couldn't get enough sugar in her body. Both of which she had been wondering how that would go. The posse probably wouldn’t mistreat her, would keep her fed and healthy, but Maggie didn’t believe that she could count on them and didn’t really want to either. Being dependent on other people had never been anything that she liked, it was too risky and Margaret never put her trust in others or held high expectations that they wouldn’t disappoint her. She was an extremely guarded individual but she had always needed to be that way.
She wasn’t going to make a fuss, or even so much as hint any more about his brother. If the suggestion had been blinded by Dakota’s belief that she was talking about him keeping his promise then so be it. It was hard for her to believe that someone would stay as a slave of any kind to anyone but the hard reality was that it was true and there were plenty of cases of it. That slave probably needed someone to tell him what to do, wanted to be someone’s pet because he didn’t have the confidence or ability to take care of himself. That wasn’t Maggie and it never would be. His whisper cascaded over her pleasantly making her shiver with the realization of what he insinuated, or what she thought the statement referred to. Matters of the heart were harder to heal than any physical wound and usually the only thing that could cure a broken heart was love. Was that her purpose then? To love him and allow him to love her in return? ”Perhaps one day you’ll find it.” She wasn’t entirely sure what had possessed her to reply as she had but Margaret told herself that it had been out of tactics.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Oct 22, 2012 21:43:00 GMT 1
This woman must have thought he just fell off the turnip truck today. Did she not know that her heart, blood pressure and respiration gave away the anxiety she felt each time she was tested? He would never tell her that and most humans had no idea what a vampire could know about them just from listening and smelling.
Koty had been alive for nearly 3 lifetimes. In his generation he was actually approaching middle age so by those standards, he had lived 4 lifetimes. She might like to bank on his country boy innocence but he had lived through 180 years of life, wars, the depression, civil unrest, economic crisis, and travelled the world over and made it his life to keep his grandfather safe. Dakota was far from the naïve young farmer he was when he became a vampire and she was not going to get one over on him that easily.
Maggie had a coldness in her eyes that she did a terrible job of covering up but deep inside, Dakota could see a warmth just begging to be allowed to surface. And he would be the one to let that happen. It took longer than it should have to get down the stairs and down the dark hallway to the steel door that opened into his room. He had the strength in his arms to open it but it was still painful. By the time he stumbled into the room, he was exhausted and one could see the dark circles forming under his pronounced pale face. Vampires did have color to them, they were pale from not being out in the sun, but their blood still pumped from their hearts even if it was only once per minute.
“Find a cure?” he asked when her statement sank in. He stumbled to a large leather chair and sank into it. The western décor was vintage. The bed, he had made himself out of tree logs, including the canopy which consisted of tree branches that stretched across it. Sheer white panels of cloth hung all around the huge bed. They were deep in the basement so no windows adorned the walls. In place of windows were paintings of windows with sunny spring and summer landscapes beyond them. Curtains were hung above them and tied back to magnify this effect. They were back-lit to make it look like the sun was shining in through the windows. Koty missed the sun on his back as e worked the fields.
“There once was a poor old woman who died from a bacterial infection. It was said that she was so poor she ate old bread she found in a bakery trash bin. She had the cure right there in her hands.” Koty drawled and let out a sigh, “There is more to it than finding the cure. Once it is found, there is work to be done before it will cure you.” He took his hat off and put it on the side table next to him. The weariness in him was apparent as he worked to kick off his boots. “You’ll sleep in that bed until I can make you one of your own.” He informed her and pointed at his bed. “I’ll sleep here.” It was too much effort to take off his boots so he just stretched his legs out. “You will sleep when I sleep and you will tell me everything you need. I don’t eat so I may not realize that you are hungry or thirsty, you gotta tell me. At night you can just go to the kitchen, eat what you want, when you want. My brother is a good cook from what the other humans around here say. The water closet is over there.” He pointed at a door in the corner. “You can’t leave this room in the daytime, the doors are locked, they automatically open when the sun goes down.”
Koty settled into the chair a little more. He knew it was another hour before sunrise but he was tired so he planned to just sit here. “There is music, there.” He pointed to an old wind up record player. “If you wanna listen to some music, if not, there are books.” He pointed to the wall behind her that was filled with books of every genre; every era.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Oct 22, 2012 22:53:44 GMT 1
Coddling him too much would have been a challenge of his manliness and sometimes proving that things could be handled even in circumstances of distress was needed. With that in mind no protest was given when Dakota broke away from her to make his way over to the chair. Back in Haven Maggie’s mother had taught her the ways of men, how a woman’s worrying was only appreciated to a point before it became a nuisance. Despite how you might have been feeling there was a point that you didn’t cross- you didn’t baby them and make them feel weak. What you were supposed to give instead was a gentleness that offered the opportunity to accept affections rather than forcing it on them. For some reason those early childhood lessons were roaming through her mind as she watched Dakota sink into his chair.
Her gaze wouldn’t stay on him long as curiosity played a bigger role in her. Margaret wanted to become briefly acquainted with her prison, but taking everything in all the window dressings of the place gave off a homey feel. Was it cruel to trick the mind in thinking that it was a comfortable place instead of the truth of it being her holding cell? The bed detailed signs of it being handcrafted, which hadn’t been something that she had seen since leaving Haven. Her hand touched the wood, delicately gliding over its surface. The false light that brightened the room gave the wood a warm glow that Maggie could appreciate and would have more if under different circumstances.
The moral of his story hadn’t been lost on her, but at the same time Margaret let her practicality take over. That old woman had been an idiot, she hadn’t been able to control herself long enough to take to the necessary steps of precaution and because of that she had only aided in a quicker death. ”Not really. You just have to be smart enough to know what is to be done once you’ve found it- have the patience to allow it to fix you.” The old woman had been impulsive, which was the undoing of so many humans. Still focusing on the bed she wasn’t surprised by the sleeping arrangement until Dakota mentioned where he would be staying. Margaret looked to him with confusion clear in her expression but didn’t speak yet as he wasn’t yet finished laying down the law.
Everything seemed fair enough, except for the stipulation that she couldn’t leave in the daytime. Thirty days was a long time for a human without sunshine. For some it could drive them mad. Looking to the fake windows that had been painted Maggie could only view them for a few moments before sighing and nodding her head. She wasn’t happy about it, saddened by it even. It wasn’t that long, Maggie could take that as she would be taking everything else about her stay with Dakota. She didn’t want to listen to music nor read any books but both were better options than letting him see that this was hard for her. ”I think your recovery would be quicker if you were to sleep in your own bed.” It was in the form of an opinion intentionally so that she wouldn’t risk telling him what to do. That wasn’t a slaves place.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Oct 29, 2012 1:34:51 GMT 1
Dakota was feeling the effects of the sun early, due to his weakened condition. He wondered if she thought he was not capable of being a gentleman or was she just feeling guilt over taking his bed from him. He thought her take on the old woman was wrong. Ignorance was not stupidity. “How could she have known what it was? She was just an old woman, not a scientist, without education. My point is, she had the cure in her hands but it did her no good because she could not do the work necessary to make it work for her.” He said weakly, closing his eyes for a moment.
She was right, he needed to be laying down in his own bed. He hauled himself up out of the chair, “You’re right, but I would ask that you sleep in it with me. I promise to be a gentleman and not lay one finger on you unless you want me to.” He grunted as he stood. He took the three steps to the bed and lowered himself onto it. “Would you help me with my boots, shirt and belt?” he asked after fumbling with his buttons. “I need to be comfortable.” He informed her. He removed his hat and placed it on the side table as the pictures on the wall began to darken. His silky soft brown hair covered his head in an unruly mess, curing at the ends and wrapping around the back of his ears. “Sun’s coming up, better hurry or I’ll be out like a light.”
Dakota knew he was taking a risk trusting her not to stake him while he slept, but if she did, at least he would be out of his misery. “I’m trusting you not to kill me in my sleep.” He said softly, “I really don’t care either way if I live or die, but a lot of other people do, I would hate for you to get hurt over it, so please don’t.”
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Oct 29, 2012 3:14:10 GMT 1
Maggie had been taught that if there was a will there was a way. Simply because you yourself didn’t possess the necessary knowledge to get something done didn’t mean that there weren’t other avenues that you could take. Her belief about the woman remained. If you couldn’t do something yourself then you merely had to find someone who could and persuade them to. If she had been in that situation herself at all though it was doubtful that she would have been searching the garbage for something to eat and risking disease. Sometimes you had to take what you needed and a far better risk to take was stealing fresh bread. Her opinion on it, what she would have done for her own survival probably said plenty about Maggie, a lot of negative things even but one thing was undeniable about the woman; she was prone to survival, a fighter and even had a way about her of inevitably turning a bad situation into something favorable. She could be quite the fox in the chickens coop so to speak. No further argument or opinion would be given to him though. The more a person spoke the more they revealed and that wasn’t something that she was ready to do yet.
To be a gentleman was a moot standing. In a world full of people that took advantage of others by force, in comparison, his hand straying while they slept was hardly considered an ungentlemanly act. All creatures, be they human, vampire, mutant or lycan were driven by their desires, their yearnings as well as the basic necessities of life. Dakota had suggested to her that she was a person of interest. To Margaret him touching her wouldn’t have been shocking at all. She imagined that she would have to endure certain things while she was there acting as his personal little blood slave. If Dakota wouldn’t drink from her without her permission there had to be something that he would do with her that didn’t require her consent. Eyeing him carefully as he stood Maggie thought over what he had said though trying to decide if it was something that was a lie or if the only thing that her slavery entailed was her to simply be there.
His hair wasn’t the only thing that was a mess. Gingerly, Margaret set about undressing him. Her fingertips were feather-light as they knocked one button after another off and shed Dakota of his shirt, unbuckled his belt and gave it a swift tug to pull out of the loops and finally knelt to take his boots off. On the ground, looking up at him Maggie surveyed his body. His blood stained his chest and it wasn’t something that she was too eager to sleep night to. Leaning up she applied gentle pressure to his shoulder to ease him back, the more he reclined the further Maggie rose. Killing him wasn’t on her agenda for the day so he wouldn’t have to worry about that. Instead, she ignored his comment. ”Please, make yourself comfortable. I’d like to clean you off.” With the request made Margaret went to where Dakota had told her the washroom was and filled a bowl with luke warm water and grabbed a hand towel toting the both of them back out into the bedroom. She sat on her side of the bed, scooted all the way over so that she was right up against him and dabbed the cloth into the water before carefully moving it over Dakota’s chest cleaning off the blood that had begun to dry, doing her best not to hurt him. When Maggie wanted to she could have a very tender touch. ”Let me know if it hurts.”
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Nov 2, 2012 1:24:57 GMT 1
Dakota could feel the uneasy mistrust the woman had for him and he was sorry for whatever someone of his kind had ever done to her to make her feel that way. She seemed defiant, as if he could do anything in the world to her and she would let him and hate him for it. He could do anything to her and only re-enforce her belief that all vampires were evil. But there was something, deep inside her that seemed to want all the good things that he wanted to offer. He knew he had to earn her trust. He didn’t exactly trust her either, but he was not afraid of death so he was ok with the danger she imposed.
In his condition, however, he had no choice but to trust her. He could feel the sleep creeping up on him. It made him feel groggy and drugged. He watched her hands work and could not help but notice how gentle she was with him. Proof, he thought, of her deep down need to be treated like a queen by a man, and no other man would do, in his eyes, than him.
“I’m comferble…” he muttered when she told him and went off to get warm water and a towel. He knew he was a mess and he was ashamed of it. His brow furrowed and his face turned to a boyish pout. “I’m…I’m sorry, Maggie.” He rambled as he looked down at his chest. “You shouldn’t….shouldn’t…” he stopped and looked up at her, “shouldn’t have to see it.” He watched her cleaning him off, it sent shivers through him. It had been a long time since someone was so gentle with him. He moved his hands out of the way so she could clean him up, one hand casually draped over her leg but made no move to caress her. Each and every touch near his healed wound was painful but not as painful as it could have been, she was careful and tender.
“Thank you…Maggie.” He said as the lights in the artificial windows began to dim, indicating that the sun was coming up outside. His eyes turned to the woman who he wanted more than anything in the world and smiled softly, “You can put my arms around you, if you want….if you want.” He murmured as he lost the fight with sleep and drifted off into a dark, dreamless sleep.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Nov 2, 2012 3:07:24 GMT 1
Growing up the way that she had, the sight of his injury, the blood that was caking onto his skin, it wasn’t anything that Maggie would have shied away from. There was that tingle in the back of her mind that she had felt before whenever one of the boys came back from a raid in her youth and needed stitched up, that worry which as she got older was easier and easier to repress. Every time her father would come home torn up it wasn’t like he could go to the care centers in the city, they would ask questions none of which were the kind Roman wanted to answer. That meant Margaret was the one that took care of what needed to be done. The only training she had was trail and error but after so many years of doing so you picked up quite a few things. As a woman of grace some things came naturally to her and though she might have been ice cold she did have a softness to her as well underneath it all. Most did.
”It’s fine. This isn’t the first time I’ve clean up blood.” Offering him a warm smile it felt strange on her lips but she set it aside to the necessary bedside manner that came with nursing. She was simply giving Dakota what he needed in that moment as her sense of Darwinism kicked back into gear. Telling herself that may have been what Maggie needed to keep strong but that didn’t necessarily make it true. Since the moment that she had met him Dakota had made her feel things that, though if she allowed herself to do so could be explained, but were vehemently denied. His hand on her leg spread a warm through her that she willfully beat back only to find it completely unless. Her body reacted the way that it did and there was nothing that any amount of stubbornness could do about it.
Dakota was slipping into sleep quickly. As the lights dimmed so did his energy. Her hand moved up to caress his cheek telling herself that it was all part of the process of making him feel comfortable. Really though it had just been Maggie’s way of accepting his thanks. The entire thing was more than Margaret could wrap her head around in one night and more than that she wouldn’t allow herself to. Her father hadn’t brought her into the city to feel things, especially not for a vampire. It was such a classic tale of forbidden romance that it made her stomach churn with the ridiculousness of it. Fantasies were nothing more than illusions. As a call girl Margaret had done exactly that. She had sold the illusion of fantasy.
The final words spoken to her left Maggie speechless- thoughtless even. Drawing away from Dakota he had already taken to sleep so he thankfully wouldn’t have been able to read her face, the expressions unable to be hidden behind any façade. It was such a sweet offer and part of her wanted to indulge in it. The bigger part of her though was upset with herself for being so weak as to want that. She needed some space to figure out what she was going to do so got up busying herself with putting the bowl and towel away. As Maggie stood in the bathroom she couldn’t help but to grab a glance in the mirror. Her face said it all but she wasn’t willing to admit to it and maybe never would be able to. Venturing back into bed Maggie turned her back on Dakota to fall asleep, however, during the day, she managed to snuggle up against him even pulling his arm around her body. Had it been a coincidence, just the natural effects of two people sleeping next to each other, or had Margaret awoken in a sleepy daze to position them like that? It was a question that would never be answered.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Nov 3, 2012 3:10:22 GMT 1
Dakota woke as he always did, to the sound of birds singing and the sun shining through his window. It may not have been real but in a sleepy haze, it fooled his mind into making him feel human, if only for a moment. Today was different, however. He had someone warm in his arms and she smelled so good, his fangs clicked out, reminding him of what he was. He saw that there was a head of beautiful blonde hair in front of his face and recognized the scent as Maggie. She had his arm held tightly against her; it made him smile.
Dakota did a mental check of his body and was disappointed at the healing progress it had not made, in fact, his chest was still very painful and upon the beat of his heart, which only happened once every sixty seconds, he felt a hot pain that caused him to whimper softly. He wished he could go back to sleep but the call of the night had awakened him as the sun had gone to bed. Dakota knew that without more blood, he was going to hurt for a long time. Just how long he hurt was completely up to Maggie. Dakota could be a very stubborn man and every moment of pain he felt would be worth even a drop of her sweet nectar.
Dakota pulled his arm free with little effort and rolled onto his back with a groan. This was going to be a tough ride but he was willing to weather it through. Another beat of his heart and he jerked, letting out a soft gasp. He would need to hide this better. He lay on his back and closed his eyes, trying to will sleep to come but it was no use. He would be awake until the sun came up and he wasn’t going anywhere but in that bed.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Nov 4, 2012 15:09:13 GMT 1
It had been eerie how sweetly sleep had treated Maggie through the day. She shouldn’t have been so comfortable in his arms or felt safe and yet both were things that though could be denied, the truth remained. Whenever Margaret slept it was always restless, so many things plagued her mind that she never got the chance to rejuvenate the way that she should. It wasn’t so much that she tossed or turned but rather her mind didn’t stop reeling, mental exhaustion was what Maggie was prone to suffering. Sleeping with Dakota was different, soothing. She could dream without it being visions of chasing after something or running away, she wasn’t fighting for or against anything, it was just calm. The serenity of it wasn’t anything that she had felt since she was six years old back in Haven.
His whimper sounded distant to Maggie as she was rallying from her sleep, but still was conscious to understand what it meant. She could feel his arm around her and with it there Margaret wasn’t quite ready to make it known that she was waking up if only for a few moments longer. In this state Margaret could even trick herself in thinking that it wasn’t really there so that she wouldn’t be faced with that confliction that had been tearing at her since first meeting Dakota the previous evening. So much had happened in the course of a day that Maggie wasn’t sure if any of it had been real. What if she had been whisked off to a laboratory after the stunt at the hospital? It wasn’t an uncommon thing. This whole thing could have been some drug-induced scenario that was all inside of her mind while they experimented on her having finally found out that she wasn’t like a normal human. The scare of that was enough for Maggie to wake up in a fright.
Dakota had already moved to lie on his back when Maggie shot up bringing a shaking hand to her mouth to keep from crying out. It took her only a moment to look around and realize where she was. It wasn’t some medical facility though and she didn’t feel any psychotropic effects coursing through her system, there weren’t moments that she couldn’t account for or the sensation of her surroundings and actions being surreal. It was discrediting the irrational thought that her mind had let slip and cognition to take hold of, dissipating and in the span of a few seconds completely disappearing. Looking over at Dakota to see his healing progress it didn’t look as though much of anything had been accomplished. Maggie knew what he needed but was she ready to let him have it? Was it in her best interest to give in or was she just feeling guilty? She hated the questions that came from being around him. The world should have been in black and white.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Nov 5, 2012 1:54:00 GMT 1
Dakota grunted as he bed moved when Maggie shot up, the bed bouncing was quite unpleasant. He turned his head to look at her. She looked terrified. Had he done something to frighten her? No, from the sleepy, confused look on her face, she had to have been having a nightmare or woke with a start from the twilight thoughts that came from sleeping in a new place. If she had woke any time before the sun came up, he would not have known because he was dead to the world when the sun was up. He was too young to fight sleep. Maybe his moving around had frightened her. Maybe she thought he was going to try to feed from her. He gave her a guilty, apologetic look.
"Did I scare you? Maggie, it's alright. I promised not to touch you or hurt you. I promised not to take blood without permission, your permission." he reached a hand out to her. "Come back to bed. Let me comfort you, same promise is in place. No touch inappropriately, no blood, no hurting in any way. But I add to it, no one will hurt you while you are in my care." He thought how nice it would feel to have her head resting on his shoulder with his arm draped around her. He wondered if she realized that he had no desire to 'sleep' with her at that time. He just wanted to be close to her and get to know her.
Koty suddenly dropped his hands and gritted his teeth as his heart thumped once again. His eyes closed for a moment as he let out a soft grunt. He opened them again and smiled. "Once per minute is not so bad." he reasoned. He knew he could handle it for as long as he needed to.
**(((we should find a way for him to play the hero, maybe win her heart? Ideas?)))**
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Nov 5, 2012 20:28:28 GMT 1
She shook her head at his initial question. Him scaring her, she didn’t think, was even possible. Vampires never had scared her, even as a child. Maggie had been told that fearing the things you hate only managed to cloud your judgment and that wasn’t a misunderstanding that someone in her position could afford to have. If he fed from her it would be no more of a risk to Margaret than if it was her monthly blood tax being paid. Though there was the chance that he wouldn’t stop, it just meant that she would have to make him. That willingness to do so hadn’t been anything that she planned on revealing to the posse at all but Maggie wasn’t some helpless woman no matter how sweet and innocent she looked. She had a feeling that Jake had been able to see that from the start, which still irritated her.
Her gaze ventured down to his offered hand regarding it carefully. To let him comfort her would be an admission that she needed him. Maggie didn’t want to have to need him. Needing people meant relying on them and it was better if the only person that you counted on was yourself. If not for her self-control she might have laughed at his promise that no one would hurt her in his care. Dakota didn’t know her, not really. He couldn’t trust her and as well he shouldn’t. Maggie was dangerous, not just because she would kill him herself given the opportunity but also because she distracted him, made him weak and even more so because he wouldn’t yet drink without her permission and allow himself to heal. She couldn’t understand why Dakota would want to make those sort of vows to her. It couldn’t have just been because he felt something for her, could it? Feelings were subject to change.
Moving over to him, having taken his hand, Margaret curled up against Dakota’s side. She told herself that it was so he would trust her. Living under the guise that she needed him and wanted him would put his guard down and if she played it well enough maybe the rest of the posse would be as comfortable around her as Dakota was well on his way to becoming. A wolf in sheep clothing so to speak- it was the same principle that Roman had always told her was the best strategy. So many of the resistance were more for going in guns blazing mentality but Rosiers preferred to sneak in the back when no one was looking and pick the enemy off one by one. ”How can you make those sort of promises to a person? There are too many unknown variables in an unpredictable future.” It was a very rational concern even if it didn’t hold the same amount of conviction as her previous arguments had, which was probably compliments of her snuggling into him. Maggie gingerly touched Dakota’s chest frowning at the wound. ”I told you to drink last night. You should have listened.”
((I PMed you some ideas.))
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Nov 10, 2012 21:08:42 GMT 1
There is often reference to a vampire being with a human and a lion laying down with a lamb but Dakota knew in this case that it was more of a matter of a mountain lion laying down with a lynx. She was cunning and dangerous but he also knew somewhere inside her there was more. Not that he could ever describe her as a lamb, but perhaps a somewhat domesticated lynx, fierce and viscious to those who provoke her but sweet, affectionate and loyal to someone she could trust. He would prove to her that he could be trusted by keeping his word.
"I can make those promises because I will protect you up until I meet the true death and I am damned difficult to kill." he stated with confidence as he idly stroked her upper arm with his fingertips without thinking.
He looked down at the closed but unhealed wound when she touched it then saw her frowning. "Maggie, I do not make promises and not keep them. I know that you only said it was OK because you felt like you had to. That is not willingly giving me permission." he stopped moving his fingertips and lay his hand on her arm. "I will know when your offer is genuine to feed from you. And I will know when you trust me enough to feed from you without hurting you." he added. He was about to go on when his door was knocked on. Maggie was decent, having slept in her clothes and he didn't care if anyone saw him shirtless, he was a guy...
"Come in." he called out weakly, tightening his grip on Maggie just enough to let her know she could stay were she was but loose enough that she could get up if she wanted to. He watched as the door opened and his sisters bustled in with their arms full of things.
"These are for Maggie, clothes, soap, shampoo and some stuff for that pretty hair of hers. Also have some other girly things we ladies need to feel civilized." Kat chimed as she walked in and placed the basket of products on the table with a friendly smile and wink at Maggie. Lacey leaned on the door jam holding a stack of clothing, looking at Maggie. "I think these will fit you, just some nice jeans and blouses. I hope you aren't used to high fashion, these are pretty but down home country, like me and Lacey." she pushed off the door jam and sauntered in, placing the clothes on the foot of the bed. She glanced at Dakota and gasped. "Kotybear! You still being too stubborn to feed?" she hissed at him. She looked at Maggie and shook her head, "Don't worry, we know its not you. This horses ass is the third most stubborn man I know."
"Come on Lacey," Kat said, rolling her eyes and grabbing her arm, "This isn't any of our affair. Koty is gonna do what Koty is gonna do and you can't change that." she said as she dragged her sister to the door. "We all know this." Against Lacey's protests, she shoved her out the door and shut it behind them.
"Thank you." Koty called after the two that didn't give him time to respond as the door closed.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Nov 13, 2012 1:06:41 GMT 1
Innocence was nothing more than a state of mind. You could be put up against those bigger and badder than you but that didn’t mean that a person was ever helpless. Something could always be done. Maggie did have a slight advantage over a lot of humans but it was rarely those enhanced traits that were her saving grace. She had been told to never reveal what she was and with that in mind it had been more smarts than anything else keeping her alive while still walking along that dangerous path that she did. No matter how safe Dakota might have made her feel it just wasn’t in her yet to lay her trust in him. Self-reliance was the only thing that could truly be counted on in her opinion. She knew well that to get what you wanted or needed sacrifices often had to be made. Seeing how he was with his family, if it came down to it, she had a strong feeling it would be them that Dakota chose and that was completely fair and understandable. But, she couldn’t truly put faith in him, not yet.
His touch made her body tingle pleasantly feeling as though it was returning home from a long absence. Rather than shattering his delusions of how she felt on the matter though Maggie allowed a light smile to adorn her lips. ”You’ve proven that much.” Even her words were chosen carefully, meant to suggest that it he had proven the one he could prove the other to her too. Had he known that she was giving him permission out of duress because she had revealed too much of her emotions in the heat of the moment or was it because he thought that he knew her? Whatever the case Maggie set it to mind that she would have to be more careful about how she acted from now on. She could fool plenty of people before giving them what they wanted so she would just have to push back any emotion that she had for him and focus more on playing this situation so that the cards were more in her favor.
The matter of him hurting her wasn’t the problem, if that was all it was Margaret would have taken the risk to avoid even so much as a sliver of suspicion put on her. It was how she felt after being drained of blood. Her condition made her weak and she didn’t want questions to arise. Her lips parted, poised to respond, to idiotically tell him that wasn’t the issue, but thankfully fate intervened and had her mouth shutting as it should have been. She didn’t make any move to get away from Dakota. The girls seeing them together like this could only help how they felt about her, except maybe Lacey. It was thoughtful of them to bring her some things that she would undoubtedly need to live more comfortably for the next thirty days.
”Thank you.” She didn’t see much reason to delve into her fashion preferences because regardless of what she liked she had already been given what she would be wearing. Being a call girl had demanded for a different kind of clothing, it was more high class than jeans and blouses but she had come from Haven so it was getting back to her roots, which Maggie didn’t mind in the least. That was a relief to know that the blame didn’t go onto her like Jake had made her feel the night before. The pair were quite the chatter boxes, which did give her the idea to be a little more friendly with them in the future. Women tended to gossip and there was no telling what they might say to her about matters that the others wouldn’t be too keen on opening up about.
As Kat and Lacey left not letting Dakota get a word in edgewise the smile was back on her lips, just barely touching at the corners. ”They seem like they can be quite the handful for you fellas.” The comment was offhand. ”I think I’m going to take a shower. Do you need anything before I do?” Maggie was his slave after all so she needed to accommodate him before herself.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Nov 19, 2012 2:34:01 GMT 1
Maggie's way of getting so quiet before she responded to anything Dakota said to her spoke volumes. He could tell she was weighing her responses carefully. A human would probably see it as her being enthralled with what they were saying and respectfully waiting to see if they were finished before responding. But Koty was too old to fall into those old traps.
He laughed at her remark about Lacy and Kat then winced painfully and swallowed by a moan. “Yeah, they are. Lacy is a spitfire and Kat is everyone’s Mama. Guess it makes the family more interestin’, don’t you think?” he asked as he watched her get up. She moved so gracefully, he wanted to pull her back into his arms and kiss her sweet lips and make love to her like a woman ought to be made love to. He forced those thoughts aside.
When she mentioned getting in the shower, he figured she had a long day the day before and last night, especially with her clothing smelling old and musty, he could tell she needed a shower. There were a lot of things he needed, but he wanted Maggie to feel comfortable. The more comfortable she was, the faster her walls would drop, to him at least. He shook his head, "You go ahead, Maggie." he murmured and closed his eyes, pretending to rest. "I'll be fine."
He waited as she gathered her things and went into the bathroom before he moved. He knew she would have stayed to help him if she knew he was going to get up, and that would rob her of her comfort and could cause her resentment toward him. If he had already had time to get her to bond with him, it would not be an issue. But with her still so guarded, he needed to be careful not to steal what little trust he may or may not have instilled upon her.
Koty didn’t like being dirty and his jeans felt grubby. He had to get them off. He was in agony as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and used his toes to peel off his socks. There was no way he was going to pick them up so he swept them under the bed with his foot. He struggled to stand, then one foot at a time he moved to the corner of the bed and clung to the post as he waited for the pain to subside.
He wondered why everything hurt more when it had a little time to heal, however little it had, in fact, healed. With shaking hands he took on step at a time to his dresser, using furniture to support his weight. He leaned on the dresser and used one hand to unfasten his jeans. It seemed like it took him forever to actually get his jeans down and step out of them. He was exhausted by the time he was finished and his ass was bare to the world.
He heard the water go off and fumbled in a drawer for a clean pair. In his rush to get them on, he stumbled and twisted somewhat, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his chest. He gripped it with a hiss and turned around to let himself sink to the floor against the dresser with only one leg in his jeans. “Lord in heaven!” he growled, curing in on himself a little. He grabbed the waist of his jeans and tried to guide his other leg into them with one hand still pressed to his chest. He heard the bathroom door open before he could even get his foot close and slumped against the dresser in defeat, “Mission…failed.” He murmured.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Nov 20, 2012 5:04:35 GMT 1
Every family had its dynamics and in all cases they tended to be interesting. As a child she had always been intrigued to observe other people’s back in Haven, judging the similarities and differences from her own. Responsibility was a heavy burden on Margaret since she had been old enough to understand it on a base level. The responsibilities to her family as well as the people of Haven were more important than anything else that might arise. They had a mission- a purpose- and Roman had always told her that whatever someone may do with their life it would be unfulfilled if they had nothing that they were fighting for. In Maggie’s case her purpose was to kill vampires, be it by her own hand or giving someone else the information and resources that they needed to do so. But what was the posse’s purpose? Did they serve one specifically or simply exist? It was a question that Margaret hoped her time here would be able to answer.
She didn’t like feeling grimy either and after the couple of days that she had that feeling had really begun to bother her. There were luxuries that this prison offered her, but Maggie had to force herself to remember. She couldn’t get comfortable or lose sight of her purpose. Dakota was a threat to that. As she smiled at him before disappearing into the bathroom, realizing that it wasn’t as much of a strain as it usually was for her to give a genuine smile to a vampire, Margaret was made aware of the potential he had and what that meant for the person that she was supposed to be. The hot water beating down on her bare skin brought Margaret a sense of clarity that she had been without since arriving in this place.
With the soap and water that was swirling down the drain so went the feelings that she had allowed herself to form- or so she thought. Maggie didn’t know how long she had been in the shower but she did try and hurry it along without feeling cheated from a worthwhile cleansing. Rinsing off Maggie could hear Dakota faintly through the door compliments of her superior senses and closed her eyes doing her best to allow her hearing to take on a stronger predominance. His steps were labored, his ability to keep his groans at bay slipping. Margaret just listened for a few moments, as he got closer to the door and thus his dresser. Shutting off water Margaret stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel slowly patting her body dry while she continued to listen to Dakota move about.
As he fumbled Maggie wrapped the towel around her body taking those few steps toward the door but her hand stopped midway waiting. What was she waiting on? Her mind to come to a decision. If Margaret went out there to help him would it be because of strategy or because those feelings that she had thought she washed away hadn’t actually gone anywhere? It was an immediate reaction hearing his struggle continue though, that she opened the door to go to his aid. Rather than rushing to his side as her instincts told her to Maggie pulled herself back and slowed down taking in the impressive sight of him. Making sure that her towel was secured around her tightly Maggie bent down beside him. ”May I help?” But she didn’t wait for any answer before doing just that being as ginger as possible. Her hair, still slightly wet from the shower dripped water down her shoulders as she assisted him. ”You do know that pushing yourself too hard doesn’t help the healing process, yes?”
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