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Post by Margaret Rosier on Dec 11, 2012 17:15:21 GMT 1
There were a lot of entrances and exits around New Vegas that weren’t supposed to be there. She didn’t know all of them of course, but she had slipped in and out of the city numerous times throughout her time there. Passing along information to the rebels at Haven on occasion had been taken over by Maggie when her father had been taken away and she had presumed him dead. Holding onto the hope that he was still alive hadn’t been something Margaret was permitted to do. Roman had said that it would be a distraction and she couldn’t afford those. Staying focused was the surest way of survival. Maggie was aware that she had grown up cold, unfeeling even, or that she was supposed to be, but with Dakota in her life it was getting harder and harder to ignore her feelings. At the same time that was what had her so torn as to what she should do with herself. On the one hand getting away from him by whatever means necessary would help her keep her focus on her purpose in life, on the other though, the way he made her feel was addicting.
For a moment one of the other men paused giving the pair a scrutinizing look that was quickly nipped in the butt by the alpha male of the group glaring daggers. Though no words passed between the two men, their looks spoke in volumes. Maggie sensed dissension in the ranks that could be very useful in the near future. Everyone else filed inside the leader took a moment to stroke Margaret’s cheek with the back of his hand. ”Aren’t you the pretty one.” His voice was deep, husky with clear indication of where his mind was at in regards to her and her uses. Now would have been the opportune time for Margaret to turn on her charm and play into whatever fantasy might have been going through his mind. Something was stopping her however. It was guilt mostly her thoughts turning to what might have happened to Dakota after she left him. Was he even still alive?
She offered him a weak smile, submissive just to keep the line of thinking open- not encouraged but also not denying him. His hand slipped down to the small of her back leading Maggie in as well. Despite not knowing exactly where they were heading she was familiar with the Under City to a point and didn’t like it there. The mutants and lycans that lived there were sometimes more dangerous than the vampires that she saw daily in New Vegas. Margaret could often deal with all sorts, even come up against demons and walk away from the situation unharmed, but she wasn’t often reckless and roaming around in the Under City was a risky thing to do. Looking over the man escorting her she wondered what exactly he was, not just his purpose for kidnapping the blood slaves. Were humans a new form of currency down here? Instead of interrogating her for information would she be made into a meal for a werewolf or a slave for a mutant? The possibilities all seemed grim to her.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Dec 13, 2012 3:49:12 GMT 1
Dakota kept up just far enough to watch as the last of the people were lead into the building. He did not go in. He was in no condition to fight that many people since he barely had to strength and stamina to follow them. He would have to get to her when she was alone or with only one or two. He moved around to the side of the building. Above him, he did not see the other members of the posse leap from the adjoining rooftop to the one the hostages were in. But were they hostages? Why had they taken them? He fell silent as he approached an open window and watched as the prisoners were all tied to posts that were in a circle around the room, all but Maggie.
“Listen up!” the lead man bellowed, causing the whimpering, frightened hostages, and one half grinning, half scowling Vampire to look up at him. “You all are here because you are guilty. You are guilty of selling out your humanity for comfort. You have allowed the Vampire vermin to feed on you in exchange for sex and money or as a get out of jail free card.” He announced. “For your crimes, you will all get exactly what you agreed to. You will be someone’s dinner.” His shit-eating grin turned toward a large metal door, “I’m gonna save you till last.” He purred in Maggie’s ear. “Bring him in!” he shouted. There was a large clanking noise then the door slid open, his roller creaking on his tracks. Dakota’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the monstrosity brought it. “Worgen…” he mouthed to himself.
“Fuck this!” he heard Lonnie exclaim and suddenly he and two of the hostages were gone. His pets; of course he got them out of there first. He didn’t blame him. Dakota would have gotten Maggie out first and maybe not even noticed Lonnie’s were there.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Dec 13, 2012 5:53:23 GMT 1
Being so close to the man Maggie had put her hand on his hip, comfort as her guise, but slowly exploring his body. No one worth their weight would have come unarmed and done the things that these men had and Margaret, with her slight of hand, was searching for something that she might use. It made him purr at her though; sadistically telling her she would be last. Fear should have been crippling her. The innocence that she had been showing him reflected in her eyes back Maggie didn't panic. She had found what she was looking for and though her hand didn't linger over the blade for long it was set in her mind as to both its location and how to get it. Being raised a killer and add on top of it her enhanced abilities she wasn't a little schoolgirl like most people assumed.
Having done plenty of things in her lifetime even with the cold demeanor that she had been raised on Margaret would never have killed a human being unless they got in her way or they had seen something that they shouldn't have, even then she didn't particularly like it. Whereas she could get behind their hatred for vampires and the atrocity of being a slave to them what Maggie couldn't condone was their method, especially since the irony of the situation being that according to their views she had no guilt to speak of. The notion of telling them that had crossed her mind but she ruled it out quickly.
Her gaze darted to the door that was screeching open fury burning in her eyes at what she saw. That angry rippled up and down her spine only to have Lonnie abandon her with his two slaves. Counting on others had never been her way to begin with and Lonnie leaving was confirmation as to why Maggie was that way. Rather than expressing any displeasure over her situation and altering anyone to a fight or flight action. In a swift movement Maggie's hand moved down to the sheath that carried the leaders blade yanking it out. She was much quicker than the man could react to such a helpless looking young woman turning the tables. Under estimation was something that happened often around Margaret and she had always played that to her advantage. Quickly, she tore the blade across the man's chest making him stumble back the scent of his blood attracting the attention of his attack hound. Maggie should have slit his throat and let him choke on his own blood but then it would have shortened his suffering so instead she took the knife to the man again low, having pivoted around to slice his Achilles heel. He collapsed to the ground, everything having happened within a span of a few seconds. Margaret might not have been nearly as quick as a vampire but inside of eight seconds she could have cut major arteries all over his body with precision. The others didn't know what to do at first, shell-shocked but to go to the Worgen's new meal and aid their leader didn't seem likely. Blood soaked Maggie's hand but she refused to relinquish the knife. The Worgen climbed on top of the man, his screams filling the room as the creature began to feast.
Looking to the others, all eyes pleading for her to help them Maggie had more decisions to make. Considering the other men were closing in on her, at least those that hadn't ran away, it would have been easier, not to mention safer, if she left them behind. Should she care? These people did want to be slaves so she had been told. Were the kidnappers completely wrong? Margaret had bought herself a few moments with the leader as a decoy but her situation was still grim and the other men were closing in on her.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Dec 14, 2012 15:04:18 GMT 1
Was it wrong that Dakota felt pride in the way Maggie moved? He knew she was hiding something but then again, why wouldn't she hide a skill like that. She held the knife like she was bord with it in her hand. She probably had been, just like the way he handled a gun. Growing up in the wild west, he knew how to shoot a pistol without hurting himself by the time he was six, and accurately by the time he was seven. And her strength was amazing. Was it wrong that it aroused him to see her in action? Was it wrong that he smirked at the punishment she doled out on the bastard?
As the beast got too close to Maggie, Dakota used every ounce of power left in him to leap up and grab the top of the window frame and vault through the window. He didn't see the shadows on the top of the building disappear into air vents. His face was feral, his fangs bared as he let out a hissing growl. "Let my woman, go." he commanded savagely. He froze when one of the men closest to her moved like lightening, disarming her and putting his arm around her neck and holding the knife to it. "Move and I'll slit her throat."
"NO!" Dakota howled, "If you so much as spill one drop of her blood, I will make your death more painful than you can imagine." he warned the man.
The man laughed maniacally, pressing the knife to her throat. Dakota was ready to move when something hit him from behind. His eyes widened as he hand reached back, feeling an arrow in his back. From the searing pain and the sizzle, the tip was silver. He fell to his knees. Several men converged on him, kicking him and beating him. His already battered body was unable to heal from the damage inflicted so it simply took more.
The worgen who was still chained, howled in frustration and hunger. Dakota was hauled up, dragged to a post and chained to it, facing the post. It didn't surprise him as he opened his eyes, to see Maggie being tied up in the same manner, on the same post, facing him. "They...want us to see each other die." he murmured, looking at her through quickly swelling eyes. Beyond her, in the shadows he saw a familiar face which quickly disappeared. "I'm going to die now, Maggie, but you will be safe. My brothers are here." His back was to the worgen so he knew it would get him first and they could get to her in time. "I'm sorry, I should have listened and took blood from another when you said I could. But I made a promise." he managed to straighten a finger to touch her arm, "I'm sorry I do not have the strength to save you."
One of the men began emptying the contents of a yellow bottle on Dakota's feet. He knew that smell and knew what they were planning. He sighed in resignation. He had been a fool and he had been beaten for it. Now he would pay the price. A trail of the slow burning fluid was led a safe distance from Dakota then set on fire. Slowly, the flames began to creep toward Dakota.
Dakota gave Maggie a genuine smile, "My world stopped spinning the day I met you, now, I am leaving this world a better man for having met you." he said softly. "Thank you Maggie." He slumped into her but was unable to fall due to the way he was tied up. Dakota didn't even see when the men all started to slowly disappear in a blur, one by one, but he heard the screams.
The Worgen was released and began to circle the two captives.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Dec 15, 2012 3:36:20 GMT 1
She had allowed herself to be distracted by Dakota, a mistake that cost her getting wrangled up by one of the other men. Maggie mentally cursed herself. Despite having guessed that Dakota would be a problem for her she hadn’t steeled herself enough to keep from letting it pull her focus. Margaret had been too relieved to see that he was still alive, happy to know that he cared enough to come after her even that she hadn’t been paying attention to those around her. That swelling of her heart at the sight of him was a stupid mistake. Feeling the cool and sticky blade pressed against her throat Maggie held very still waiting for the chance to pull away unharmed. She focused on the way the man’s body was molded against her own, timed his breathing, his hand lightening pressure when he inhaled, Maggie letting herself rise and fall with his chest to sync the rhythm.
Any move that she was about to make was negated as Dakota was shot with an arrow, Margaret’s focus again pulled. Why couldn’t she just ignore him and do what she had been trained to do. Survival of the fittest had no room for concern of others, no compassion or hesitation. You acted and reacted doing what was necessary to get out of the unfavorable situations that you found yourself in. He was an increasing problem for her and as they beat him down, her rage boiling inside of her, Maggie couldn’t gather herself to do anything productive. If she made any move now it would have been forced and erratic. That could have been even worse than not doing anything at all. She kept her mouth shut, didn’t protest against his harm despite feeling as though she were screaming on the inside.
The chains bit into Margaret’s arm, any struggling that she did would have had them pinching into her skin. Looking across at Dakota she was mournful, scared and angry. Why couldn’t he have just stayed away? The thought of seeing him die should have been bittersweet to her, instead it was just bitter because watching him die wasn’t something that Margaret wanted not to mention the threat of her own life. He looked terrible. Dakota should have listened and now they were both going to pay the price because he was so damned stubborn. ”When we get out of this you’ll just have to remember to listen to me more.” Was it to comfort him or was Maggie just spitting fire at him, rubbing salt in an open wound that she had been right all along?
As Dakota leaned on her Margaret wiggled her hand over, hissing at the chain ripping at her skin to do so, and laced her hand with his giving him a strong squeeze. ”You can’t die. If you want to do something for me then don’t leave me.” The words were foreign on her tongue but she meant them. Glancing around as the men were taken out one by one she felt the presence of one of his brothers coming up behind her to break the chains. The Worgen was closest to Dakota though and he needed to be saved first. ”Get Dakota first or I swear when you break those chains I’ll kill you.” The seriousness of her threat rang true in her tone. She could wait a few more seconds. With all the unfair advantages that vampires had they better get their asses in gear and make their speed count where it really should have.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Dec 21, 2012 14:16:15 GMT 1
She didn't want him to die. It was a little late for that, he thought. The brothers would think of the safety of the humans outside in the city who would lose their only home if the worgen got outside of this building. He didn't think she understood that. His family was not about saving the human race because they needed to eat, it was because it was the right thing to do and they could.
Dakota looked up expecting to see one of his brothers and hissed when he saw an unfamiliar face. He wasn't there to break the chains, he was there to extend the trail of fire into a ring around them. "No!" Dakota growled as the man laughed and ran away. "Oh god, Maggie, I'm so sorry." He breathed. His brothers were now fully engaged with the worgen. It seemed Lonnie had jumped on its back and was riding it like a bucking bronco, punching it in the head.
Dakota dug at the chains, causing his fingers to sizzle and the flesh to peel off. It was not healing because he had not fed properly. Suddenly he heard a voice, deep and soothing. "Maggie...Maggie, would you rather die than feed him? Tell him to feed on you!" he heard Samson. "If not we are going to come in there after you both, this fire may kill some of us, but you are worth it to us, and to Dakota. One human life is worth more to us than all of ours combined. That fire gets much closer to you and we will come in. We can break that post and get you out, but at what price? Dakota can break the post if you let him aquire the strength. Please Maggie, let him save you so no one else has to die."
Dakota looked over at the dark skinned blacksmith. "He's right Maggie. I don't want anyone else to die, especially you. Your life is so much more valuable because if you die, you stay dead. I can live for you if you will give me the strength to save you, because I will not live without you." he reasoned, he failed to mention that the fire would kill him forever, but it had to be her choice. She had to be willing.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Dec 21, 2012 14:58:30 GMT 1
Disappointment and fear coursed through Maggie to discover it wasn’t one of his brothers at all. The smoke was beginning to get thick around them, her lungs feeling tight with it but she resisted the urge to cough despite the tickle in the back of her throat. That man’s laughter was ringing in her ears, menacing. Her gaze snapped back over to Dakota as he apologized. Was this his fault? No, but he hadn’t played much part in helping the situation. If he had fed before when she told him to maybe none of this would have happened. If he hadn’t jumped into a fight he wasn’t ready for she might not have been chained to this post in the first place. But the what ifs weren’t his fault. Dakota was, she realized, more human than she was. Maggie had spent her life separating herself from emotions in favor of a strategic lifestyle whereas Dakota followed his heart. He had done those things out of love for her and he couldn’t- shouldn’t- be faulted for that.
She closed her eyes trying to clear away the sting of the smoke with the tears that were formed, compliments of the fire and the realization that this very well could be the end. Maggie still wasn’t afraid to die so the fear she had wasn’t for herself but for Dakota. It was strange, caring. Just because a person wasn’t afraid to die didn’t mean that they wouldn’t do everything in their power to live. Her fingers laced with his still as the other man spoke to her kept her grounded. She was well aware of the risks and while she didn’t yet care about any other lives than the ones that were currently in jeopardy Margaret did understand the logical choice, the one that would minimize the loss of life.
The thought of being saved by a vampire was an affront to her upbringing but she didn’t think that her parents would have approved of her allowing herself to die because she was being stubborn. Her father would have said to utilize what was at your disposal. Resourcefulness was a trait coveted by the Rosier family. Looking to Dakota, seeing the condition that he was in and hearing his agreement to feed off of her finally even though this too was a high-pressure situation Maggie gave him the nod of approval. ”Do it, Dakota.” Her arms were pinned so that she couldn’t lift her arm to him to feed off of but the way that he was slumping over if she could manage to wiggle a little toward him he would be able to get to her neck.
Against the pain of the chains Margaret scooted over as best she could tilting her head to the side to give Dakota better access to her neck. It was a shame that the first time she would be able to feel his lips on her skin would be under these circumstances but Maggie pushed that out of her mind. If by the time they were out of this mess that little bastard that ran off laughing hadn’t been killed yet she wanted to be the one to do it.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Dec 23, 2012 23:55:34 GMT 1
Do it, Dakota…
This should have made him happy but it didn’t. If it were not for the fear of her dying because he was too weak to save her, he would have said no and died rather than to drink from her without her truly wanting him to. He groaned in emotional agony at the thought of betraying her that way. How could he ever look her in the eye again? “Maggie…” he murmured as he lifted his head. He craned his neck so he could get his face close to hers. “Maggie, I’m sorry.” He couldn’t just bit her without some form of bonding intimacy, it would be crass and brutish. He leaned in and kissed her softly with his eyes closed. Then he opened them and sought eye contact. “No pain.” He whispered, leaning on her mind and hoping it took.
Dakota knew he could make her feel pleasure when he bit her but he felt that would be too much of an intrusion. If she felt pleasure from it, that would be completely up to her. It was not his job to make her enjoy his bite. Most bloodslaves did but that first bite could be painful, mostly from the fear of it. He moved his head over, knowing he didn’t have any more time. His fangs clicked out and he sank them into her neck as gently as he could. He drew deeply at her vein and groaned at the sudden explosion of energy her blood fired through him. It was the sweetest thing he ever tasted. It was invigorating, almost effervescent in its effect on him. He felt every injury on his body heal almost instantaneously, even his chest.
He pulled away when he felt his strength return fully, his sunken eyes filled with life, his hallow cheekbones became full and vibrant again. He could not break the silver chain but he could break the post. “Thank you, Maggie.” He said with shame in his voice and he refused to make eye contact. He brought his foot back and kicked the post, shattering the bottom of it. “Pick your feet up, Darlin’” he drawled and edged his way backwards toward the fire. The idiots had not thought to bind his feet since he was weakened. This allowed him to run forward, breaking the post at the top. He blurred through the ring of fire, falling to the floor on the other side. He turned midair so that Maggie would fall on him with most of the weight of her fall on one side so the post would not hurt her too much. Suddenly gloved hands were all over them, breaking the chains, freeing them from their grasp. The worgen lay dead on the floor.
Hank was barking orders as always since he was the oldest and most organized. “Let’s get this fire put out, Jimmy, go report this, Lonnie, go wash that shit off and have your pets check you for any cuts or bite marks. The rest of you, after this fire is out…lets go home.” Dakota nodded and stood up, pulling Maggie with him and supporting her weight if she needed it. “Do you want me to carry you?” he asked, still avoiding eye contact.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Dec 25, 2012 1:14:59 GMT 1
Pain was nothing more than a state of mind to begin with. She had been raised to endure pain to most degrees. Being bitten, even without the compulsion, wouldn’t have hurt her nearly as bad as the majority of city humans that she had passed on a daily bases before her slavery had taken affect. His apologies, moral struggle- none of it really mattered to her at the moment. Maggie knew that sacrifices had to be made. It was something that she always comforted herself with when innocent people had died either because of her or at her own hand. Her giving into him biting her was a necessary evil that Maggie wouldn’t regret. Too much weighed on her mind as it was to be burdened by everything that happened. His kiss was soothing, making her heart skip a beat thoroughly enjoying the sensation of his lips on hers even finding herself kissing back.
She wasn’t afraid to be bitten. There was a slight concern about having blood drained again so soon with her condition. It left her more weakened than a human should have been, to the point of passing out and in the past, when it had been questioned, Margaret had gotten away with claiming she had a severe case of anemia. With what they had seen of her already though Maggie doubted that excuse would work with the posse. It was better than death though. Feeling his fangs sink into her skin she kept her mouth shut despite the sting of pain that she felt, nothing more than swallow hard, once, was any indication of a disturbance. As Dakota fed from her Maggie started to feel weightless or as though she was floating on top of water, all tension leaving her body, eyes closed and her lips parted letting out a content sigh.
That familiar lightheaded feeling came on more quickly than it usually did during her once monthly blood donations. It had only been a day since she had been a free citizen having her blood drawn and Maggie hadn’t had time to fully recover. She was drained, in a daze when Dakota finally got what he needed and began to heal. Margaret found it difficult to keep her eyes open but through the smoke and the heat of the flame she forced herself to. Her body was limp and if not for the chains she would have fallen to the ground. Following his instruction took pure will power to accomplish mustering up every ounce of strength that she had to brace herself against the pole and lift her feet. Once the post was broken and gravity took its effects Maggie barely managed to stand on her own two feet again but for the briefest of moments before she fell on top of Dakota.
She was semi-conscious to the hands on her breaking her free of her chains but Maggie was fading fast. If she didn’t eat something soon and re-up her sugar levels no good would come of it. It took her a moment to figure out how she was standing upright again before her eyes landed on Dakota smiling weakly at him. Though she tried to stand on her own her legs were like that of a newborn deer, far too wobbly to support her own weight and merely ended up collapsing into Dakota. ”I can do it.” Her words and her actions conflicted one another as the first step Maggie attempted to take had her falling right back to Dakota. ”Take me home. I need to eat.” Her words were faint, barely above a whisper. Maggie managed to wrap her arms around Dakota’s neck, her head dropping into his chest.
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Dec 25, 2012 21:17:21 GMT 1
Dakota just learned a very valuable lesson about Maggie. One, her blood was more nutritious than any he had ever had before and it filled with with unspeakable strength and energy; something he was not inclined to share with his family. And Maggie was capable of saying one thing and feeling another. Actually, he had an idea that she was capable of doing that before but now it was confirmed.
He heard the weakness in her voice as he caught her and his eyes snapped to her face, avoiding her eyes. "Maggie! You are as white as a sheet!" he gasped and immediately lifted her off the ground, cradling her bridal style. "Hank, I gotta get her home." he called to his brother who took one look at her and nodded. Vampires knew what low blood sugar looked, smelled and sounded like and Maggies irregular heart beat spoke volumes.
Koty never ran faster in his life. It was five miles to the club and Koty covered it in less than a minute. Even with as little time as it took, it was precious seconds he could not afford to lose. Even if it was the fastest he ever ran, it was the longest journey he ever took. He kicked his way through the door and paused just long enough to shout, "Need fruit juice, sweet pastery, breads and meat stew to my chambers, NOW!" Once he saw slaves and vampire servants bustling, he moved again. This time straight to his chambers where he lay Maggie on his bed. He brushed his lips over her forehead, removed her shoes and covered her with his thick blankets.
Dakota was hesitant to move away from her but he had to, even if it was only for a moment. He blurred away for just the time it took to grab extra pillows from his closet then moved back to her, lifting her gently and placing them behind her. She would need to sit up for this. "I'm so sorry Maggie." he murmured as he did he best to make her comfortable. His door flew open and one of the servants who was a vampire swooped in with a bottle of orange juice. Dakota quickly opened it and brought the bottle to Maggie's lips, "Drink, Darlin'" he cooed at her, "Please drink, I can't lose you." he added, knowing in his heart that he probably already had since he had to drink from her before she was ready to let him. Two humans came running in with a tray of fruits and breads and a crock of stew. "Leave us." he commanded after they placed them on the side table.
Once the room was empty Koty, still avoiding eye contact, placed his hand on Maggie's cheek, "What can I do?" he asked. He knew if she didn't perk up soon, he would have to force her to drink his blood and that would probably seal his fate, losing her forever, but at least she would be alive.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Dec 26, 2012 6:31:53 GMT 1
Maggie had never experienced it this badly before but this was the first time that she had lost blood consecutively in her life. She felt shaky at first, trembling in his arms from her body heat having been sucked out of her as well as her weakened condition but she still had strength left to hold onto him. That stubbornness of hers was still present even in her current state ad the thought of relinquishing herself completely, putting herself one hundred percent in his care wasn’t something that Margaret was willing to do just yet. That tiny bit of will power that she had left was focused on holding herself to him. Mighty as Maggie might have pretended to be in that moment it was a great effort for her just to keep her arms around him. Her muscles felt puny quivering to keep her position and it was a foolish move brought on by pride.
Though the distance back to the Dance Hall was taken swiftly it seemed to be an eternity for Margaret. Each second that ticked by was suspended an extra length and the same thing ran in a loop through her mind, telling herself that she was almost there, that she needed to hang on a little bit longer. Though her stubbornness could be a downfall sometimes it could also be what kept her going in times like these so it wasn’t all bad. Some comfort came from being able to feel Dakota against her but that too was fading away from her as her strength dwindled away. It was difficult to comprehend much of anything. She could hear him shouting orders but only caught bits and pieces of what was said. Maggie couldn’t bring herself to care though. It did bother her that she was having trouble with the most basic of things.
As she was sat on the bed Margaret collapsed like a marionette, going limp against the mattress. Her actions were not her own but rather dictated by Dakota propping her up with pillows so that she would be able to eat and drink when the food arrived. Lethargy had nearly taken complete control of her body by the time it arrived though and feeling the drink touch her lips, mouth dry and pleading with her to take a sip, she was unable to muster up the energy to do so. Her eyes fluttered shut head lulling forward and the back trying to rouse herself and doing a poor job at it. Maggie wanted to fight through it and do what was necessary to get better- to survive. That was what she had been taught to do but she felt like a helpless little girl.
It angered her that she could be reduced to this making her eyes sting hot with tears but not enough to blur her vision. Her hand raised to swat at his hand on her cheek, not because she didn’t like it there but because she was so upset with herself, but Maggie only managed two fingers grazing against his forearm. ”Let me sleep.” Maggie wanted to have conviction in her tone but none could be found. She didn’t need to sleep until her body was replenished though. Her eyes closed and Margaret leaned into his hand on her cheek. ”I’m so tired, Koty.”
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Post by Dakota Blackwell on Dec 31, 2012 6:57:38 GMT 1
”Let me sleep… I’m so tired, Koty.”
Dakota was suddenly on high alert. Her heart rate was wrong, her color was like chalk and she was refusing to do what she knew she needed to do in favor of sleep. These were all signs of someone being close to death. What could he do? He only knew one way to save her but how could he do it without losing her forever? What did it matter, he probably already lost her anyway.
“No!” he growled sharply, “You stay awake, and you drink this juice.” He ordered but her eyes closed almost as if she were giving up. This was his fault. He had drank from her to save her only to have her die on him anyway? No, this was not going to happen. Before he could change his mind he lifted his wrist and bit into it, causing his honey sweet blood to pour from it. “Drink!” he commanded and forced his wrist against her lips. If he could only get some in her mouth she would not be able to resist it. He tried to rouse her enough to open her eyes so he could glamour her into drinking.
He thought she would press her lips together in refusal but she was too far gone to fight him. He simply pressed his wrist against her colorless lips in the hopes that her instincts for survival would kick in and she would drink from him. If she drank from him, he knew everything would be alright. “Please, Maggie, all that word to save me… it will all be for nothing because I will not live without you.” He pleaded with her. He knew no matter what, he could not live without her and he didn’t know what lengths he would go to in order to hang onto her. All he knew right then was she needed his blood to live.
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Post by Margaret Rosier on Dec 31, 2012 20:34:20 GMT 1
His growl rippling through the air roused Maggie with the bit of instincts that she had left. Something like that would have put her on edge, ready to defend herself but all it managed to make her do under these circumstances is open her eyes to look at Dakota. She could see how worried he was over her health and while she appreciated it there wasn’t much that he could do that Maggie would allow him to. The fault was on her for not being stronger in her time of need. All it would have took was to sip on the drink giving her enough energy to eat something and start to recover but Maggie hadn’t been able to do it. Her eyes hadn’t stayed open but for an extra second in that moment wanting nothing more than to succumb to her sleep. On some level Margaret knew what that meant and she knew that she couldn’t allow it to happen but her body wouldn’t allow her to listen to her mind shouting at her to fight for survival.
Fading in and out of consciousness Maggie could feel his wrist against her lips and understood what he was trying to do. She didn’t want to. It was against what she stood for but ever since she had come to him her world had been crumbling apart piece by piece. Maggie didn’t know what to do, think, or feel anymore and maybe that was part of the reason why she hadn’t been able to rally herself up enough to take care of herself. Dakota had softened her some and Margaret had needed that hardness to fight through her body’s disobedience. Being tough, cold and harsh inside had been a necessity for Maggie and along with her world falling apart bits of her had too and there were repercussions for that.
She didn’t move for a few seconds. Time slipping out of her grasp as her mind tried to work through which was the worse fate. If she drank from him everything would change, there wouldn’t be any going back and if she didn’t and just gave up she would be going against herself that way too. His pleading cut through to her, the sound of his voice keeping her from slipping away and Maggie made her choice. Her lips parted letting the blood that had pooled against her lips seep into her mouth, tasting its sweetness. Gently she nursed off of him regaining her strength more quickly than any other food or drink could have helped. Her color was returning, the clarity in her mind unfogging, and her will power restored. Her hands grasped at Dakota’s arm holding him to her as she drank, eyes finally opening to look up at him a mixture of gratitude, sadness, and pain swirling in her expression.
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Post by Marcel Chevalier on Jan 8, 2013 8:48:47 GMT 1
moved to new board
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