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Post by Lily Morten on Aug 30, 2006 16:19:05 GMT -5
-snick- Don't worry about it. It's not like I posted three years ago! -snickerfit-
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Antranig Sutlian
New Member
Healer
Looking for a sign that the universal minds have written you into the passion play.
Posts: 28
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Post by Antranig Sutlian on Aug 30, 2006 16:31:27 GMT -5
The not so good doctor watched on impassively as Miss Morten crumbled to the floor. The frailty of man always left a sour feeling in his stomach. He had not become a healer to be a gentle hand linked through a patient's, had never wished to refine any sort of bedside manner. He had studied healing to vanquish the wounds, fought them to see them die, not the patient live. It was a distinction not many would understand, but it manifested itself in moments like this.
As Lily laid upon the floor, each ragged breath echoing within his ears like strains of some loathsome melody, he eyed her form, how it trembled from the pain. There was a certain beauty in suffering, that was certain, though there were far better ways to reduce a woman to a quivering thing, to strip away the propriety and etiquette that confined her like a corset tied too tightly about the waist. He loved to keep a woman in his bed for hours, not allowing her to touch him while he brought wave upon wave of pleasure to crash over her until she was nothing but a primitive form of herself, sweaty and breathless, that was a moment that a woman was the most alive.
And a certain element of that came from the pain as well, perhaps. A rush of adrenaline, the feeling of the world snapping shut with you in its jaws. It heightened everything, made the world more real. And when it ended, the world was renewed in its wake, living without the pain suddenly meaning so much more.
But that was not why he had done what he had to Miss Morten.
Stooping so he could whisper in her ear, he drew his wand and uttered a numbing curse to steal the pain that was no doubt coursing through her scourged flesh. "You vill remain indoors until a simple touch does not wage such havok. I vrepeat you are nyet vell enough to go out of doors. Not yet."
Shaking his head, he stood to his full height, replacing his wand within his pocket and folding his arms across his chest. "Andt if you do nyet begin to listen to vhat your healers say, thet day might nevar come."
Offering her one of his powerful hands to use to aid her standing, he spoke in half-command, half-request. "Now get yourself from that floor andt I vill take you to your vroom. Ve can open a vindow to let in the air. Andt you vill stay vhere you belongk like a goodt girl. Da?"
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Post by Lily Morten on Aug 30, 2006 16:37:54 GMT -5
Why do the beautiful have to be horrible! -shakes fits- -dies-
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Antranig Sutlian
New Member
Healer
Looking for a sign that the universal minds have written you into the passion play.
Posts: 28
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Post by Antranig Sutlian on Aug 30, 2006 16:40:38 GMT -5
*Cracks up* Because evil is hot
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Post by Lily Morten on Aug 30, 2006 16:41:33 GMT -5
-snort-
True.
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Post by Lily Morten on Aug 30, 2006 17:40:59 GMT -5
Breath after painful breath, Lily lay curled on the cold floor, unaware of anything other than her pain and breathing. She really hated how this happened, one touch sending her into completely and utter agony. It just wasn’t fair. This injury, it was taking over her life. While she pretended that it didn’t, it was the only thing constant in her life, it was the only thing she could rely on always being there, always taking over her life at one stray touch. Sometimes it wasn’t so bad, like when she was standing or walking, but when she was with people, something always happened. Like now, the stupid, stupid doctor. He wasn’t even her doctor, he wasn’t even supposed to be on this floor. Dr. Andrews was her doctor, Dr. Ford and Tristan -kind of- not this idiot who had to set off her wounds.
In the back of her mind, she thought that she might have felt warm breath tickling her ear and words piercing into her. She thought she was imagining it, that is until every ounce of her pain and utter feeling in her back vanished.
"You vill remain indoors until a simple touch does not wage such havok. I vrepeat you are nyet vell enough to go out of doors. Not yet."
Bastard. He knew that was going to happen, and he did it just so she would not have the opportunity to go outside and he would have a reason for that very incident when asked. This hospital was growing more crowded by each passing moment, for now she had another doctor to avoid. Slowly, she pushed herself of the ground shakily to look at him.
"Andt if you do nyet begin to listen to vhat your healers say, thet day might nevar come."
Never come? Now he was playing ‘helpful doctor’. What was he? Whatever he was, she wasn’t sure that she approved if he was going to go around setting off people’s wounds to keep them in their room. Sighing, she sat down on the floor carefully and sprawled her legs out in front of her as he offered his hand telling her that she needed to go back to her room. She didn’t want to go back to her room and open the window, she wanted to go outside and stand in the grass, she wanted to feel the wind playing with her hair while she bent down to smell the wildflowers. She did not want to go to her stuffy, plain, horribly boring room. Sadly, she had no say in what happened to her anymore.
Taking his hand, she used mostly his strength to stand, for her own was failing rapidly. Maybe it was a good idea for her to go back to her room. With a sigh she shook her head softly and refused to be moved from the spot in which she was now standing by defiant;y crossing her arms across her chest.
“I want to go outside, and I will go outside. Nothing would have happened if a careless man kept his hands to himself, and I don’t have any pain just from walking around. Take me outside now, or I will go on my own.”
[[so there]]
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Antranig Sutlian
New Member
Healer
Looking for a sign that the universal minds have written you into the passion play.
Posts: 28
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Post by Antranig Sutlian on Aug 30, 2006 18:06:25 GMT -5
Witches.
Antranig shook his head inwardly. For all their uses, some salient characteristics they all seemed to possess were so aggravating. Their emotions, for one. That white hot, seering anger they could fly into from the twinge of hormone. The weepy crumbling that commenced a moment later. His mother had often postured on the subject of equality, insisting that in the New State, everyone ought be equal. But when he saw how easily she snapped at his father for leaving a rogue sock on the floor of their chambers, when he saw how the sight of annother man's suffering left her ineffecual and crippled with sorrow, he thought better of her words. Until they could learn to curb the raging beast that was their fractured psyche of feeling, they could never hope to be as men were.
Men could swallow up the hurts, internalize them, press on against them like a fierce wind or sweeping tide. Men persevered. He had done so. No one had been given the benefit of his weeping when the young boy in Durmstrang robes had been hexed, taunted, teased mercilessly. He had not turned to rubble. Men were not afforded such luxuries.
And if she thought she could play at stubbornness, well, he would teach her what the word truly meant.
"Under no circumstance, vill you set foot from this hospital. It is not only that you are weak, Miss, andt you are, incredibly so. But it is also the threat of infection. Burns are dangerous thingks. There is far too much to contendt vith outside. Andt if you continue to be so obstinate, I vill be forcedt to compell you by magic."
He did not say what spell he might use, and in truth he had not decided. There was always a good petrification spell or a dose of mobilicorpus. But there were other ways to make a patient docile. In Romania, he had polished a few skills, and not the least of which was the Imperius.
Oh yes, he was capable of the unforgiveables. And he had proved this. And could visualize the day that he would prove it anew.
But not today.
The thing about men was that they were capable of reason, of good judgement and compromise, and while a sadistic streak deep within his bones was enjoying the verbal sparring between them, he knew it would soon grow tiresome like all witches grew eventually.
"Howevar, I vill make a deal vith you. Come back to your room as I have askedt andt I vill bringk to you the outside."
Arching a brow, he waited for her to either accept and prove she had a bit of good sense somewhere in that pretty head, or refuse and affirm that she was just another pretty fool.
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Post by Lily Morten on Aug 30, 2006 18:29:15 GMT -5
"Under no circumstance, vill you set foot from this hospital. It is not only that you are weak, Miss, andt you are, incredibly so. But it is also the threat of infection. Burns are dangerous thingks. There is far too much to contendt vith outside. Andt if you continue to be so obstinate, I vill be forcedt to compel you by magic."
Men. Did they really think that just because she was of the opposite sex, she was weak and inferior in all ways? She had survived five weeks in this very same condition, all in the outdoors. And during those weeks, she felt much better than she ever have while residing here. The sunlight and the pure peace outdoors gave her a wonderful feeling, and it was better than any pain medication that some ignorant doctor could give her.
"Howevar, I vill make a deal vith you. Come back to your room as I have askedt andt I vill bringk to you the outside."
A deal, hmm? Well, it was most likely that he was just trying to tick her into going back to her room before he locked her in with an open window. She did not trust him, not at all. He was a doctor, but never would she trust him with her life willingly. He was too, well, something. There was something about him that she could not place her finger on, something that didn’t feel right about him. Something that she did not care to cross with. Something that made her very soul tingle.
“While your offer might just be genuine, I am going to have to ask you what you plan on doing. I am not stupid, and no matter how much pain I am in caused by someone’s stupidity, I will not be tricked into giving up anything to you.
Holding her stance, she just looked at him from her defensive spot in the hallway. No matter how much pain he put her though a moment earlier, she was not the bit fazed by him, intrigued maybe at his horrible antics, but not fazed. He was nothing more than another simple person with just more odd things that made him tick.
“Prove to me, Doctor that I am not going to make a stupid mistake by trusting you with something so unimportant to you and the exact opposite to me.”
She sighed slightly, showing a hit of boredom, before looking out a nearby window at the trees and lawns that were so close, so menacingly close.
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Antranig Sutlian
New Member
Healer
Looking for a sign that the universal minds have written you into the passion play.
Posts: 28
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Post by Antranig Sutlian on Aug 30, 2006 18:52:47 GMT -5
"Tell me, Miss, vhat did you do before comingk here?"
His curiousity was piqued, and regrettably so, he was certain he would decide later. He found himself marvelling at the spirit within her, the way one's eyes were drawn to Abraxan as it charged across a level plane. A wary piece of himself placed a restraining hand to deter such thoughts. Not because she was not interesting, but because such wanton freedom only provoked one response from him, the desire to break the beast, to tame it, to make it so it would abide his guidance and control. Such thoughts were not befitting a man in his position, and he was aware of this. And so he abandoned his own question, not awaiting a reply and instead moving to answer her own query.
"If you insist, I vill enchat your vroom to appear you are in the outdoors you are so bent upon. I cannot understandt vhy you did nyet think of such a thingk yourself," he gloated. "Ve are vizardts, aftar all."
Clasping his hands behind his back, he nodded his head toward the door.
"Ve go then, da?" And then he gave a slight bow, "Aftar you."
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Post by Lily Morten on Aug 30, 2006 19:07:44 GMT -5
Where did he get the idea that he could ask her a question, a personal question that had nothing to do with anything he should be concerned with, she was not sure. He was, different to say the least, and she wasn’t quite sure she was willing to go anywhere while she knew that he could be the one dealing with her next fit of terror and pain at night when her nightmares came. Before she could answer him however, he moved on to a different subject, well, back to the subject he was speaking of not a moment before.
"If you insist, I vill enchat your vroom to appear you are in the outdoors you are so bent upon. I cannot understandt vhy you did nyet think of such a thingk yourself. Ve are vizardts, aftar all."
With a bit of amusement in her voice, she looked back at the cruel man that called himself a doctor.
“Did you ever wonder why I did not suggest such a thing myself? Magic, is no comparison to nature. An illusion is only that, it is never the thing it portrays,” she paused, smirking slightly at him, “Doctor.”
He was different, most definitely different. Amusing, too, actually as she watch him bow to her like he respected her decision to go back to her room before he even listened to her answer. He was an idiot.
“Did you not here me?” she laughed at him, her eyes sharp with growing annoyance.
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Antranig Sutlian
New Member
Healer
Looking for a sign that the universal minds have written you into the passion play.
Posts: 28
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Post by Antranig Sutlian on Sept 3, 2006 8:39:15 GMT -5
It was odd how people garnered false impression of a quiet man. Because he was not perpetually touting the evil things that lurked within him at full volume for the entire world to gasp at, he was thought to be kind. Because complaints did not pierce his reticence, he was thought to be patient. Because he could listen to endless score of another's trials and tribulations without interruption, he was thought to be compassionate. But to think those things about Antranig Sutlian was to think an asp a fun thing to bring into your bedchamber.
He had not kindness, not patience, not compassion. It would be easier to get a stone to yield water with one's fist than it would be to stir such things within him.
"I heardt you," he nodded, standing upright.
He had given her a chance to behave. But she had chosen to be stubborn. He had her best interests in mind. But she had chosen to be wilfull and foolish. And Antranig was never one to suffer stubborn fools gladly. In a flash, his wand was drawn, pointed at the witch and the words of the unforgiveable whispered in his native Armenian. Only a fool would cast the Imperius in English with all the monitoring the Ministry did. The curse cast, he pressed his wand to flesh under her chin.
"Andt now ve vill be goingk to your vroom, Miss Morten."
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Post by Lily Morten on Sept 3, 2006 10:12:49 GMT -5
-shakes fists- Why does evil have to be so hot?! -dies-
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