Carpe Noctem

So, I figured I should be transparent about this. I’m not gonna delete the blog, but this is probably gonna be pinned. TL;DR: Brain is doing bad thing. I will be slowing down significantly, but I’m not out. If you think I’m full of shit, go ahead and unfollow. I’m not worth shit here anyways.

-

Her breath heaved out of her chest on a pained grunt, as he landed roughly outside of the hospital entrance. Grip tightening on his shoulders, Blake’s head fell against the back of his neck, and she carefully attempted to extricate herself from his hold, “Are you…okay?!” The sound that his knees had made as they hit the concrete had not been an encouraging one. “If you hurt yourself, you’d better get checked out while we’re here.”

Limping carefully toward the sliding doors, Blake made a beeline for the front desk, uncaring of anyone else in line or that might be in the way. She made it there, blessedly, without falling over, but leaned heavily on the edge of the desk as she knocked on the glass partition, “Hey, sorry…but I’m in a lot of pain. Can I be seen before my insides explode?”

The woman attempted to hand her a clipboard with forms to fill-out, but Blake shoved it back toward her and shook her head rapidly, “Nope, not now. Fix me first, then I’ll sign whatever you want.” 

The minutes that followed were a flurry of doctors and nurses and a receptionist that still attempted to get her to sign some documents. But Blake waved the woman toward Silas, “We’re practically married. He can fill them out.” Those were the last words out of her mouth before she disappeared around the corner into an ER exam room, leaving Silas behind to brave the frustrated receptionist and the line of irritated patients still waiting to be seen. 

Silas, after regaining enough aura to get on his feet, deals with the piercing clap of a clipboard over his shoulder along with the equally piercing glare of the long queue of patients waiting to check into the ER. Walking past the peanut gallery, he rests an arm on the doorframe next to the water cooler, deep breaths as he downs a cup of water. Before the nurse dared to hand him a second clipboard of paper, he waves haphazardly with the one currently in his hand. “No, no no. I’m good. We’re only here for one person, not two.”

He sits down and tries to write down what he can remember of Blake in terms of patient information. Name, last name, date of birth, current residence, it felt like he was back at Beacon and taking a written quiz after a combat class. At least those didn’t have lasting consequences. He knows for fact one mishap here and he would have something worse bear down on him than Professor Goodwitch’s ire. A shiver runs down his spine at the thought.

Once he hands the clipboard in and once again waiving away a second clipboard for his own information to be looked at, Silas finds himself lounging across an empty bench waiting for news of Blake. The doctors said the operation would take anywhere from one to three hours. 

-

Eira nearly shudders from being pushed against the wall, moaning softly from the heated kiss before watching Silas make his way down her body.

Gods, she needed this.

There wasn’t much else needed for Silas to take action. Immediately, he pulls Eira back to her room. The urgency in which he shut the doors would have echoed through the rest of the manor. 

-

She takes a breath, sighing out her exhale. She could tell the man wasn’t going to be any bit satisfied with her just trying to pass as Human, and that he could tell she wasn’t. Slowly, two tall furred ears take form atop her head, deep red the same as her hair. A pair of upright, gently curved blue horns grown out and up from her forehead following after. Then, one by one, six long and bushy tails of the same color take form behind her, swaying about gently. Lastly, her fingers past the first knucles gradually turn blue, and her nails replaced with pitch black claws.

After a few seconds, she shrugs a little while looking at him.

“I-uh....hmmmm...”

There really is not much for him to say, after the transformation finishes. The scent does makes sense now at the very least. But his brows jump to express a wide range of confusion, processing, and eventually acceptance. A small sigh signifies that his brain has finally caught up with what his eyes had gathered.

-

Her mind was still slow to comprehend everything at once. Get out… Right. Getting out of here would be nice. 

If only she had the strength to walk.

The archer breathes slowly, trembling slightly, trying to stay awake despite how she was losing blood. “Did you… find… W-Where are the others?” Eira, Myrtle, and Midnight must all be worried sick right now. Were they okay? 

“They’re fine. Made sure everyone got out of this place...You were the last one I had to dig deeper to get a hold of.” The structure that continues to collapse around is, in fact, not fine. 

-

It didn’t take much coaxing to talk Blake into draping herself against his strong back. Her pride might protest, but it was minimal compared to the ache that radiated through her back. She didn’t care how she got there, she just needed something to be done about the pain. “Not a princess…” she muttered under her breath, half-heartedly grumbling into his shoulder, where she had rested her head. 

Hooking her arms around the tops of his shoulders, she tried to avoid squeezing too hard when the spasmic burns set in again. It was a cyclical pain, that seemed to come in waves. Like someone had punched her right through her back and was trying to tear her organs out through that same spot. The pain had such an acute onset that Blake literally had no idea what it was. She hadn’t bumped into anything, and she hadn’t been injured on her latest assignment. She was at a total, painful loss. “We might have to call an ambulance at this rate…”

Silas knows that they’re very much pressed for time. And the more he feels Blake trying to fight through the pain, the greater the sense of urgency. “We’ll get to the hospital before they even send someone our way, don’t you worry.” Without bashing through every single door and provoking any erratic movements, Silas gets to outside of their apartment complex. 

This is probably worse than trying to run with a full glass of hot water. Well considering the fact it is the love of his life possibly dying...Silas shakes the thought out of his head. Instead, he throws one of his knives up two stories, using his semblance to scale the structure. With peering eyes, he looks for the hospital and repeats the process several more times. 

By the final iteration, he ends up crashing and sliding onto the concrete knees first. With whatever miniscule aura he had left breaking some of the fall, he minds the feline on his back, making sure she ends up landing upon his person. A weak thumbs up is raised from the exhausted hunter.

fumusdamnatorum​:

sometimesshattered​:

Silas felt the shake, feeling his muscles creak upon trying to wake himself up. Blake’s touch was more than enough to get him out of bed, but upon hearing the word hospital and that small gasp, he absolutely got up faster. His eyes have a hard time trying to focus in the night, but can make out his partner’s shape. A hand reaches out to cup her cheek. 

“Hey, hey. I’m here. What happened, Blake?”

Pain radiated through her lower back, as she found herself unable to stand completely straight from the burning ache. “I don’t know…” She really didn’t. It was just…pain. Plain and simple. She had felt fine before she went to bed – well, maybe a little more tired than normal, but otherwise she was not ill. 

Reaching up, she grasped the hand that touched her cheek, giving it a hard squeeze through the next wave of pain. “It just hurts.” She’d never felt pain like this before. Not even when she had been stabbed in the gut. This was different. “Come on. We have to get across town. And getting a cab at this time of night is going to be hard…”

Silas’s eyes dart around to get ideas as to what to do. His sense of panic is at an raised level, feeling how hard Blake squeezes his hand. 

Come on, Silas. Get a bright idea going, come on. 

He looks at his gun belt, resting on a chair pulled slightly from its correlating desk. The proverbial lightbulb in his head turned on. Without letting go of his love, Silas uses a leg to get hold of the belt, putting it on with one hand and sinched down as tight as possible. With the utmost care, he coerces Blake to get onto his back. 

Silas’s ear twitches, as if trying to pick up whatever whispered mumble or breath of air escaped the girl. Alas, his hearing is much, much worse than his sense of smell, a what? clearly written over his scrunched brow. 

-

…Had someone called her name?

Laurel’s eyelids felt heavy as she tried to open them. For a moment, she struggled to make out the blurry images or recognize the voice that accompanied them. A few slow blinks later, it hit her.

“S-Si… las…” Her voice is quiet as she tries to speak. Slowly, her hand trembles a bit as she rests it on top of the one that was pressed over her wound. Even now, the slight smile hadn’t disappeared from her face. She was just relieved he was still alive. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to end up… like this…”

“You can apologize to me later but first-” A violent cough abruptly interrupts him mid-sentence, blood leaving at the last cough. He looks away to make sure what was not caught in the gaiter does not further stain her. “...we need to get out of here.” 

To say Silas is having a terrible day is the short version of events. However, anyone just looking at his current state can already tell ‘Oh....it’s one of those days....’ 

He groans with an ice pack over the top of his face, pressing against the two black eyes and broken nose. Head and upper back slumped on a bench only to be braced by the table connected to his seat. Rigged fights do happen. Some times they don’t work out, but the rare instances in which they do, it always sucks...so much. 

There’s two courtesy knocks before he hears the door open. Instead of reaching for his weapon, he points at the intruder, lazily shaking his finger as a point (or lack thereof) of deterrence. The ice pack still covers his face.