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Post by Draven Hunter on Dec 30, 2010 22:15:02 GMT -5
Draven wanted to push Ashemir away. He wanted to snap some witty retort back at Seriah. But at the moment, he just felt... dead. Exhaustion weighted his limbs and made his head feel heavy. However, when Ashemir started messing with his wound, his head snapped up (and not without a great deal of effort and dizziness) and he did hiss. "That hurts," he growled, sounding a bit more like his normal self. "Don't be so rough!" And, now that he was feeling in an even worse mood, he turned on Seriah where he lay (like an idiot) threw something verbal in his direction as well, bronze eyes burning as they glared up. "I'm surprised you'd even bother to bury me," he said, cringing. "Especially not with your roses, since they seem so damn important..." Finally his anger was subsiding and he shifted, resting his head, face down, on his arm. He felt hot, overheated, even with Ashemir working to draw poison out. "If I can pull through this, and that is a BIG if, I'll continue to watch Valmar and the mountain..." His mutter was tired and apologetic, almost like saying 'sorry for that but I'm not in a good mood'.
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Dec 30, 2010 22:26:58 GMT -5
Ashemir didn't really hear much of what Draven was saying other than that the blonde was perceiving it as whining. After taking a mouthful of tainted blood, he spit it out on Seriah's floor before latching his mouth back on Draven's side to suck more of it. Hopefully the warlord wouldn't mind blood all over his floor too much, because Ashemir certainly wasn't cleaning it up. What did he look like, a maid?
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Post by Seriah Desislov on Dec 30, 2010 22:44:29 GMT -5
"Actually, dead bodies make good fertilizer." Seriah answered, refusing to be baited by a half dead man, as well as bringing up some questions as to the warlord's gardening habits. His gaze dropped down to wear blood was being spat. He wondered just how a hired maid would react to the bloody mess, while he no doubt explained it with a simple 'its okay, I'm a writer'. He'd just have to work the stain out himself once Draven was settled. He was NOT letting the bleeding vampire into his bed, however.
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Post by Draven Hunter on Dec 30, 2010 22:53:06 GMT -5
Draven shrugged where he lay, twitching every time Ashemir moved to spit blood on the floor. He was beginning to feel numb to the pain and so it wasn't bothering him anymore. God, wasn't Ashemir done yet? He was tired... He felt sapped of strength and it was a rather uncomfortable sensation. Last time he'd felt like this... No, he didn't want to think about that. He shook his head against his arm and turned to lay his cheek against it, bronze eyes opening to look around Seriah's home. What a wonderful second meeting! He was fairly certain the warlord probably didn't trust him and definitely thought he was a weakling after that little episode with Marrus. His nose twitched and he sighed, looking down at Ashemir. "Done?" he asked, half tempted to poke the blonde's cheek. "Not enjoying this whole thing at the moment. I'm tired. And hungry..."
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Dec 30, 2010 23:13:14 GMT -5
Was he done? Ashemir didn't know. He couldn't taste the poison. And he didn't want to risk stopping but then have Draven slip away during the night just because the mercenary was whining. He spit another mouthful of blood out before looking at Draven. "You've just been poisoned. It's going to be uncomfortable whether I'm done or not," he pointed out. Hah, he thought the mercenary would like a blonde sucking some part of him, but he kept that thought to himself. Ashemir took out a little more blood before he withdrew from Draven's side. "Will you be alright?" he asked, more gently this time.
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Post by Seriah Desislov on Dec 30, 2010 23:32:44 GMT -5
"We can't do anything about the hungry right now, but I'll set up the couch." Seriah said, leaving the room to let Ashemir finish with Draven. He returned by the time the blonde was done, a pile of extra blankets and clean bandages under one arm, as well as a bucket of water and wash cloth in the other. He set the bucket, wash cloth, and bandages next to the other two vampires, brows raising over narrow eyes, toward Ashemir to make it clear tending the wound was his job, before he turned towards the couch with the blankets.
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Post by Draven Hunter on Dec 30, 2010 23:48:49 GMT -5
Draven nodded and sat himself up, watching Seriah place everything beside Ashemir and him. He blinked at the warlord, then looked at the blonde. He would have to deal with the hunger... Alright well, sleep then. He could sleep. That'd be nice. He moved sluggishly, closing his eyes to keep himself from falling over as a wave of dizziness sent him swaying. He tugged at his dark, torn shirt, prying it from his body to expose the various other wounds across his chest, shoulders, and back. His arms weren't so bad. He held up his shirt and looked it over, then tossed it aside with a disgruntled sigh. He'd have to get new clothes... Again. Cloak, shirt, pants... He looked down at his trousers. They didn't look too bad, he supposed. He blinked slowly, looking at Ashemir and then at the cleaning supplies. Okay, he could do that. He could clean himself up. He held out a hand and looked at the cloth, then at Ashemir again, silently asking for it.
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Dec 31, 2010 1:02:47 GMT -5
Well, Draven was moving. Moving was good. He glanced down at the water and washcloth when Seriah brought them and met his blue eyes, getting the hint. Draven seemed to get the hint too. Good. Less awkward for Ashemir, then. But then the mercenary seemed to expect the washcloth, and the blonde rose a brow. "You just sit there. I'll take care of it." He took the cloth for himself, dipping it into the cold water before cleaning the wounds on Draven's chest.
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Post by Seriah Desislov on Dec 31, 2010 3:02:30 GMT -5
Seriah lay the blankets out over the couch, setting it up so that Draven would be on top of some of the blankets, to help prevent any stray blood from ruining his couch. He smoothed out a thick quilted blanket over top, while trying to place where he'd even picked the blanket up. He turned back to the others, watching for a few moments, before speaking up, "So I have fairly little insight as to whats going on. Why is Draven's brother," Or a magical clone, he supposed, but he was fairly certain he'd heard 'brother', "trying to kill him?"
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Post by Draven Hunter on Dec 31, 2010 8:28:41 GMT -5
Draven sighed when Ashemir told him he could just sit. He cleared his throat and leaned back against the wall. Watching both of the others work on what they were made him even more tired. He fought back the urge to yawn. Don't show that sort of thing around the warlord. And Ashemir would probably have some snide comment... He shook his head slightly, banishing the thought. Ashemir was being civil. Just because Draven was in a bad mood, didn't mean he had to take it out on the blonde, even if Ashemir couldn't hear it. He turned his bronze eyes to Seriah when asked why Marrus was trying to kill him. He shrugged slightly. Marrus didn't really have a reason, other than the fact Draven was a threat to how he lived... Then he considered all of what he'd seen of Marrus over the years, everything his twin had said in their various conversations. "I suppose it would be because he blames me for him being changed," he said, brows furrowing together. "He's made it a personal goal to make my life a living hell. I think the change made him go... crazy. He's never hidden himself like the rest of us, or tried to blend in at all. He's almost overthrown the castle and got himself banished from Cados, though apparently Malcolm saw him so that means nothing..." Okay, seriously, it was hot. He trailed off and lifted a hand to run through his hair and he just felt overheated. The cold water wasn't even touching how hot he felt. He was uncomfortable, but he said nothing, looking away from Seriah and closing his eyes so neither would be able to see his discomfort. He was done talking. His throat was dry and he was tired, and he felt sick.
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Dec 31, 2010 9:02:00 GMT -5
Ashemir systematically cleaned and dressed each wound one by one as Draven parted with the reason why his brother was out for blood. He supposed that while Seriah and he were turned by people that they loved, there were still accidents and those who were non-consenting. "Lovely... one of those people that make all our lives so much easier," the blonde mouthed sarcastically, wrapping the last exposed wound in bandages. That should do it.... Now the challenge rested on getting Draven to the couch without him completely tearing himself apart. Ashemir reached over to touch Draven's shoulder, immediately yanking his hand back in surprise when his cool hand now felt singed. "Damn, you're burning up." Whatever this poison was, they needed to find the recipe and any back-up reserves Marrus had and destroy it. He dipped the cloth back into the water bucket before he stuck the cold, damp material on Draven's forehead.
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Post by Seriah Desislov on Dec 31, 2010 18:39:53 GMT -5
Seriah listened, not entirely happy with the explanation, but understanding. Crazy vampires were never good, but some people just couldn't handle immortality. "It will be a problem if he exposes us..." He murmured to himself. But they couldn't do anything about that now, hopefully he could just put Marrus down when the nut case returned.
He watched Ashemir press the cold cloth to Draven's head, before shaking his own head slightly. "I don't think there's anything else we can do, but let him rest, and keep an eye on him through the night."
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Post by Draven Hunter on Dec 31, 2010 18:56:43 GMT -5
"I'll be alright," Draven grumbled, looking rather ill and even more pale than normal. "Sleep and food. Currently all I want." He was really tired. His arms felt like lead weights at his sides and he was sluggish to move. Head back against the wall with Ashemir pressing the cloth to his forehead, he turned to look at the blonde. The other two must find him such a burden. Ever since he'd run into Ashemir, he'd just been a pain in the ass to everyone, disagreeing with Seriah's plans to destroy the royal family and going against Valmar and now this... He blinked slowly and sighed, something he did out of habit when he was distressed. He let his gaze lower slightly, staring at nothing, staring beyond everything. "I shouldn't have come here," he said.
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Post by Ashemir Draemis on Dec 31, 2010 22:19:06 GMT -5
"Sleep first. We'll take care of the food." He wondered if there were any stray cats and dogs in Issilt that could be taken. Or there might be small animals outside the city. Dammit... Draven and his refusal to drink human blood.... But if it was what Draven needed, then Ashemir would go out of his way to supply it. He glanced at the door, wondering how far Marrus might be, or if he was waiting for them. They might have to wait until morning to start foraging... Then he glanced back at Draven, considered his words, then shrugged. "Self-pity won't solve this problem. Maybe you should have, maybe you should have not, but why do anything if there's the possibility that you'll regret it? At least you're safeguarded here."
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Post by Seriah Desislov on Jan 1, 2011 19:52:29 GMT -5
Seriah chuckled at what he supposed was as close to a pep talk as one could get from Ashemir. "What matters is that you're here." He affirmed, stepping up to the vampires side, before gently taking his arm. He nodded towards Ashemir to take the other side, so that they could help Draven to the couch. "The most useful thing you can do right now is focus on getting better." He wouldn't have pegged Draven for a pessimist, but the vampire certainly seemed to have a dark brooding metaphorical cloud around his head now.
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