Post by Mila on Nov 26, 2012 10:27:21 GMT -5
21:32:55 lllI did not sprint with the usual ease of a gazelle. Panicked, as though he were on her tail the entire way, she panted and cried, cold-fear driving her to lengths her body alone could not possibly have executed after her ordeal. She tripped and fell, upsetting her broken ribs and sorely bruised abdomen. Her back burned like fire, even in the chill of the night. Everything hurt. She brought herself to her feet and ran blindly in the night, likely turning circles. Countless times she couldn't move any further, her rolled, swollen ankles wishing to be rid of her shoes but lacking the energy to remove them. Huddled to the ground crying until she had naught energy to even form tears, but her will to survive bid her to press on. In one small hand she held a zippo lighter and a pendant, both giving her the strength to make step after step, to pick herself up after every fall. With dawn came hope. Through the trees she could see the foreboding presence of Hex, and never before had she been so pleased to see the structure, a dry, breathless wail of desperate relief leaving her parched, dehydrated throat. Lara could force her body to do the impossible no more. Collapsing to the ground, one small hand shakingly nursing the blood stained wound at her left side. Now that it was light enough, she did not want to look... instead she dragged her broken body through the sparse tree line. Only to the fields. Safety was at the fields. Surely someone would find her eventually, and deep down she knew she could go no further. The girl crawled until she made it to the very edge of the furthest field, and there she dropped. Lara Locke was a vision in Champagne, her long tulle skirts splayed beautifully around her, even torn and bloodied with her's and another's essence. She lay on her back, upsetting the day-old scores but nursing her front. Slender arms were peppered with thin cuts and bruises, particularly around her wrists and fingertips marking her upper arms and shoulders. Her neck was a foul mixture of purple and blue, the markings of his hands branding her again, and in the middle of his grip was a thin red line where a necklace once hung. As for the beautiful countenance of her face.. there was no color, save for the corner of her forehead was bruised and bloodied, blood trailed from the corner of her mouth and down her chin, a scrape marring the soft flesh of her cheek. There were shadows beneath her eyes, long lashes resting on her cheeks. Her eyes were closed. Worse.. one might avoid looking at her abdomen. The ribs on her right side had been broken so violently and badly that bone tore through flesh and the fabric of her gown. Blood coloured her gown around the wound, some brown with age and splotches of deep red that mad it clear she still bled.
22:04:20 Xan had, at about the halfway mark in the night's festivities, gone patrolling through the halls. He had seen plenty of people walking out arm in arm, or leaned against one another. He actually saw one couple exiting with their faces mashed together! And so he'd gone roving through the school. Any time he encountered students alone, and it was usually a couple, he memorized their faces, removing their dominos if necessary. They would receive their punishments tomorrow. For fraternization, the punishment would likely be anything from a ten thousand word essay on the most boring subject imaginable to scrubbing floors or what have you. Busy work, mostly, to keep them from one another. But afterwards, at lights out, when he checked in on all the Magnus students he found one missing. As he saw her bed empty, he attempted to shrug it off as maybe she had passed out drunk somewhere. He went to bed with an uneasy feeling inside of him. He tossed and turned all night, rumpling his sheets and turning his bed into a disaster area. Near dawn he simply rolled out of bed and went to check on the students. The spiked punch had done it's work well, as all were deeply asleep. He went from room to room, counting filled beds and empty ones. He got to the bed that he had been worried about and he saw that it was still empty. His paranoia increased. The girl was naïve, and trusting. And no doubt the Kennedy boy had poured that concoction down her throat by the gallon, hoping to get lucky. He couldn't disturb the boy's sleep at the moment, however. No doubt Luthor would have something to say about it. And so he returned to his room, mind racing. He looked at the pack of cigarettes lying in the light of dawn streaming through his window. The half-empty bottle of whiskey standing not six inches from it. No, that was for the night. He went to his dresser and pulled on an UnderArmor shirt and yanked on his running shoes. A run would straighten him out. He left his room, pulling the door shit behind him. He passed through the halls, poking his head in classrooms and janitor's closets as he headed toward the fields. After all, Occam's Razor specified that the simplest explanation was usually the right one. She simply could have passed out in an empty room. But alas, there was no evidence of her passing. He jogged his way down the stairs and exited the school, moving toward the track, stretching out as he went, starting with his arms and pausing to stretch his legs. He had no idea that every second wasted was the second that Lara might slip into the darkness and never wake. When his feet hit the track, he started running. He took comfort in the feel of his heel striking the pavement. In every slight gust of wind that brushed his hair back from his forehead when he pushed off with his toes. It wasn't until he rounded the first turn of his run that he noticed the shape lying on the furthest field from the school. He slowed and adjusted his direction, turning toward the fence that separated the track from the bleachers. His eyes narrowed as he peered at it, thinking, . . . the bloody hell? It came into focus slowly. At first he thought it was a dead deer or something, what with the mainly golden coloring, but then the sale skin and the dark red stains came into focus and he pushed down on the top post of the fence, lifting himself up and over it easily. He jumped the next fence just as easily and he sprinted the width of three football fields in seconds. He skidded to a stop next to the small figure, dropping onto his knees in the dew-slick grass. His eyes were drawn to the wounds before the girl's face. He froze for a split second and suddenly his fist struck the ground, "No!" He ripped open the cage within his mind and became the beast, there on his knees beside her and helifted his muzzle heavenward, howling toward the dawn sky with rage mingled with anguish. Another attack. When he finished howling he filled his powerful lungs once more and repeated his action. That was sure to draw attention. And then he was human once again. His eyes roved her battered figure, hands hovering, recalling what he'd been taught by the Healers. Once he'd taken stock of her injuries he'd reach down to run place one of his hands against her face, "Lara? Lara, can you hear me?"
22:23:56 Lara lay alone for hours in the chill of an English morning, and it was any wonder that the girl did not freeze to death. Could the cold even be credited to her survival? With her wound pulled with constant movement she had risked bleeding out her demise and yet the brutality of the temperature kept the blood mostly at bay. Her mask was all but lost in the wood somewhere, broken from the force of being dropped and then used as a weapon, as for her dress the tulle was torn, bloodied, littered with twigs, dirt and brush and worn at the knees when she was reduced to crawling for safety. There was a faint fog cast over the forest and fields floor, swirling about the broken body tossed carelessly at it's edge. The night before she had been the belle of the ball, a new student and underclassman who had attracted the eye of the a 'most wanted' senior. Her gown had been beautiful, an angel in pale, muted gold. Now she was broken. Battered arms were draped at her sides, crooked at the elbow so that her hands were near in line with her heart-shaped visage, one splayed mottled with grazing and muck, the other closed in a dainty fist around an item that had saved her and one, combined with her foolishness, that had almost cost her the life she desperately fought for. Lara did not wake when Professor Blaze found her. Her body did not twitch, no expression crossed her face nor did her eyes open with any form of recognition. The sleep of the dying was a powerful barricade to the human world but, no. She wasn't dead just yet. Her chest did not seem to rise and fall with living breaths but she was barely, just barely still in our world – and not the next.
22:39:07 Arin hated things such as Balls, they were loud and obnoxious, especially in a place such as this. It was with great dismay he agreed to be one of the teachers who would supervise. It was beyond him as to why out of all the many staff members his presence was wanted so badly, perhaps it his was his skill set, or more likely because he generally was never seen doing anything other than teaching or studying. It was no wonder people got the idea he had nothing better to do, however, they were completely and entirely wrong...whoever they were....and he did intend to find out, eventually. A night filled with separating those who touched to much or danced to near was dreadfully dull. The school being one for delinquents one might think he would find more engaging pursuits than putting a ruler between students to ensure they couldn't procreate at a later time, yeah right. Finally the infernal thing would end and allow him to return to his study. Arin's study was conjoined with his personal quarters. He'd purposely chosen a room with a lesser bedroom, and a larger study because of his near obsession with ancient texts. On his way back to the study he'd pass many a snogging couple and only cough loudly and allow a portion of his magical aura to shine at then, normally more than enough for the couple to go scampering their separate ways. The sight of his many tomes and kindling fire would lift weight from his shoulders and force a sigh from his lips, finally. The fae wasted no time what so ever in stirring his coals and adding a few logs. Next was to pour himself a full brandy, down it, and refill it again for the purpose of enjoyment. A long, long, sigh he would breathe, tinged with the warmth of alcohol. Finally he thought, sitting down to open the tome before him. An unconscious smile crept across his lips and curled upwards without him even noticing, the tomes made him happy, their ancient knowledge and most of all their willingness to yield to him. It wasn't two brandys into his into his text before his blood curled and cause a shiver to cause him to splash a bit of the liquor on his immaculate table. Xan , no other werewolf within a hundred miles had such a resonate and power howl. Something was wrong, more than wrong...it was tragic. Without a second thought the professor leapt from his open study window, allowing his magnificent wings to burst from his back and save him the dreadful fall. Within moments he could fall from the sky beside Xan. Arin was clad only in a fine robe that was not fastened around his waist and a pair of simple black sweat pants. "Wh-....." The boyish looking man paused and recomposed himself, "What happened to her Xander?!" A feeble statement considering if the man he'd asked knew....he'd already ready be on the trail.
22:40:53 Kimber` ::: Sleepless nights were loathsome. Tossing and turning in her bed beneath sweaty sheets, Kimber groaned softly in aggravation before tossing the covers away completely. The air in her room was stagnant, stale, and brooding. This was not a place the shifter wanted to be right now. Body alight with anxious energy, she sat up in bed and ran her fingers through her thick mane of auburn, making her already mussed hair even wilder. From her window, slipping in through the drawn blinds, Kimber could see the soft rays of early morning. She had been kept awake the majority of the night by drunken students returning to their rooms following the party, but she didn't feel tired. There was an urge welling from deep inside her to get out and move, to flee the building and escape outside where she could fly. Fly. Yes. She wanted to fly, a familiar desire that had existed within her heart since early child hood. Hesitating no longer, Kimber leapt from bed and shot straight to the window. Clothed only in a simple white sleep shirt and red-plaid cotton pajama bottoms, she drew open the blinds and opened the window, then shimmied out of her clothing. For a moment she enjoyed the feel of the cool morning air wafting in through her window; it drew Goosebumps over her naked flesh before feathers sprouted to hide it. Shifting from human to hawk was as easy as breathing, her body just flowed into a new shape, like water filling a container. Perched on the window sill, Kimber spread her wings, testing them, before launching herself into the sky. She had always been clumsy for a shifter, on two legs as well as four, but in the air she could manoeuvre with grace. Her body was perfectly designed for flight, and she rode upon the uprising currents easily to a great height. Exhilarating. Flying was always exhilarating, no matter how often she did it. Beating her wings in powerful strokes, Kimber soared over the campus, angling her direction towards the fields. She watched the world below her, marvelling at the sharpness of her own avian eyes. As she approached the far field she caught sight of someone, and that's when she heard Xan howl. The sound stunned her, and for a moment her wings faulted, and she lost some altitude. It was not a good sound, and it made her stomach feel heavy, as if she had eaten a stone. Folding her wings she dropped lower and circled, making out the forms of Xan and Lara. She could see the blood and... Oh Christ. Her landing was rough; she shifted back a few feet above the ground, and dropped to the ground, stumbling slightly. " What the hell happened?" Kimber's tenor voice was shaking. Paying no mind to her use of profanity or her own nakedness, the shifter just looked wide eyed back and forth between Lara and Xan, and then to Arin when he arrived. "Is she breathing? Oh God, please say she's breathing.":::
23:08:57 Xan lightly slapped her cheek, trying to get her to wake, but it was all for naught. He tilted his head slightly, listening to her hearbeat, and his eyes took in her shallow breathing. He looked at the ornate corset and knew immediately that it was partly to blame. His eyes then moved to the rib bone that was jutting up through it where the blood was the thickest. he remembered back to the lessons he had been given upon becoming a teacher here. He had needed to know how to fix broken bones, since his class was a violent one. He had to know how to push them back into place without damaging anything further. He paused for a split second as he thought of what to do. The bone was mostly plugging the hole in her flesh from whence her life was leaking out drop by ruby drop. He reached down to the skirt and, ripped and dirty as it was, he needed the cloth. He ripped it, pulling off a long strip and balling it up in his left fist. He'd then reach back to and, as gently as he could, place his thumb on the blood-slick bone and push it back into place. Down through the fabric of the corset it went, back into the hole it had come through in her flesh. That was when Arin arrived. He shoved the balled up folds of cloth at the flight teacher, "Hold this." He then snapped his wrist and his fingernails became claws. He took hold of the top edge of her corset. That was when his claws slashed through the fabric. He destroyed it completely, but the restriction on her lungs would vanish instantly, allowing her, if she was able, to take deeper breaths. Then he pushed it away from her skin, "Put pressure on that wound. Be as gentle as you can, but try and stop the bleeding." He glanced away and noticed that there was a girl there now, a student, "You. There should be Healers out looking for me. Go and lead them here. Now." His tone was as hard as steel, and brooked no argument. She would get no fewer than one hundred lashes if she didn't instantly obey. He looked back down at the frail, dying girl and looked for other life-threatening wounds. The bruising on her head looked a little serious, but he knew internal bleeding was the most derious danger. If she had been bleeding internally all night, she might be beyond the help of the healers. He looked up at Arin, "It looks like Charlemange's killer has struck again. I wonder how Lara survived. If Miss Quinn's body was anything to go by, this killer, whoever it is, is very good. This girl should not be alive right now." He looked over Lara, noticing the small scrapes that littered her arms and when his eyes alighted upon her hands he saw that one was curled tightly about a pair of objects. He reached up and would gently pry her fingers open to reveal that bright pink zippo that she always carried to make use of her fire mage status, and a gold pendant in the shape of a capital letter X. He took both items and examined them before he tucked them both into the tight black spandex that was all that remained of his clothes after his abrupt shift into werewolf form.
23:26:32 Lara was more or less dead weight, oblivious to the slap on her beaten face nor the arrival of Arin nor the.. naked student? What?! Dead to the world, almost literally. Xan's quick thought and removal of her corset did ease the dying femme's struggle for femme, the faintest sounds of a wheeze laced with each fighting breath made. Once revealed, her bare torso was a sight that would turn even the most weathered warrior's stomachs for the girl had received a serious beating. There was barely an inch of crème flesh to be found amongst a myriad of purple, blue and yellow bruising, not to mention the stain of brown and scarlet blood that seeped from the wound created by her own bones. Her ribs her misshapen and there were clear 'dents' where there should have been rises. The bruising snaked up over full breasts and lead to fingerprints on her shoulders and the lock of hands around her throat. When he pried her hands apart he may have noticed the slight, live resistance as if the girl wished to hold onto her tokens. It was small, easily overlooked. But it was there. As for Lara's survival? It could only be credited to the unknown assailant who had spiked the punch as Braxton Kennedy had – only with an Ether-numbing Elixir, rather than mere alcohol. In her condition she was no match for a powerful caster but reduced to physical brutality, she had been able to pull through with sheer luck, one handy baby-pink zippo etched with <i>Princess,<i> and the advice of an angry Were given in the same place she found herself at death's door.
23:31:38 Arin despaired at not being able to affect the girl with his limited magical talents, flight and swordplay being more his forte. Had be been a magician he'd have been more use, but alas he was not and thus he could do no more than aid in the basic first aide already being administered to the broken looking girl. He'd wasted no time obeying the alpha wolf, never mind his own arrogance and self sense of status, a girl's life was at stake, and yet it still bothered him to be spoken to as if he was a mere peon. "Apparently, Lara you say? Was a good deal stronger than her attacker gave her credit for. Whoever HE is, for we can surely assume the killer is male, he won't make this mistake again." Only now did the Ether History professor come to notice a girl, a student , had appeared amongst them. Just before he could open his mouth to give instruction Xan was already at it. Arin immediately cooled his annoyance at once again being seconded. Arin would pause a moment to visibly scold himself for such himself for such thoughts, his ego needed to be kept in check from time to time as the fae were indeed a proud and vain folk. "This be damned, should I fly her to the medical ward? My strength can carry her as far as my arms will allow." His voice cracked a little as he glanced down at the all but entirely broken femme body before he and Xan.
23:37:26 Kimber` ::: When Xan gave her an order Kimber managed a stiff nod of compliance, before shifting back into a hawk and lifting up into the sky. She hadn't recognized the injured girl, but the image of her poor beaten face was seared in the shifter's mind. Without knowing her name, Kimber prayed for the girl's survival, and for speed to bless her flight. She flew up high in order to secure the best vantage point of campus. Hovering, she looked all over in a near-panic until her sharp eyes finally fell upon a trio of healers making their way from the school. Screeching in her avian voice as loud as she could manage, Kimber folded her wings and dove towards the group. In a flurry of feathers she flew low, then changed back. She was yelling before her feet had even touched the ground. " Mr. Blaze found an injured girl! She's in real bad shape! I'll lead you to them, please hurry!" As soon as the last word left her lips, Kimber shifted back into a hawk and shot up into the sky with a screech. She hadn't waited for a reply, but she didn't need to. The healers were already hurrying after her, as fast as they could without wings. In Kimber's mind they seemed to take forever! She had to keep circling back to make sure no one lost their way in the tall grass. When the trio finally reached the scene of the incident, the shifter landed on the ground a few feet away, not wanting to crowd the poor fallen girl. This time, however, she didn't revert back to her human from right away. Her feathers were ruffled, and she kept fluttering her wings nervously. Kimber couldn't really see what was happening to Lara with everyone gathered around her, but she refrained from drawing closer for fear of getting in the way. When Arin presented her with his robe, the shifter finally changed back, and humbly accepted the garment. "T-Thank you..." :::
23:57:16 Xan looked up at Arin when the fae took on an instructing tone of voice. He growled, "I know ou murderer is a male. I had his scent in my nostrils the night Charlemange died. The reason this murderer isn't dead yet is because there were two male scents in that bathroom, and I haven't caught a whiff of either of them." He reached down to Lara, looking at her still face. He had felt that little bit of resistance and, surprisingly enough, it had torn at his heart that she had been so desperate to keep them that even knocking upon Death's door, she had still fought to keep them. His left hand caressed her heart shape face, a tender look upon his stubbled face. His right hand reached down to grasp the hand nearest him, fitting his into hers and gripping slightly. He hoped that she would feel it and know that she wasn't alone. He looked up when he heard the Healers of approaching and he breathed a sigh of relief. He slid down the length of Lara's small body, making room for the healers but continuing to grip the girl's hand. The Healers paid him no mind as their hands and eyes roved her limp figure. Their hands hovered inches over her bruised and cut flesh. One healer looked up at him, "We cannot pick and choose what to heal, Xander. If we are to save her, the lashes must go too." Xander nodded, "Do it. If the Headmaster has an issue with this, I will take his wrath. This girl must live." The Healer nodded and resumed his task. And then they began. One at a time, they placed their hands lightly upon Lara's ruined flesh and began channeling their healing energies into her. The first one started with the most serious, focusing on her rib cage. The girl's limp body jerked every time one of her ribs set itself and healed in a matter of seconds. This happened to each and every one of her ribs. Then the wound in her side closed itself off and left nothing but perfect skin in it's wake. This kind of repair went on for a couple of minutes before he took his hands off her and backed away to let the next one begin.
00:11:41 Lara 's body was at the mercy of the Hex Healers, and well placed in capable hands. Their Ether coursed through them and into her, breathing life and mending what may never have been unbroken in the human world. The first was the worst. The hands width bone that jutted grotesquely from her torso slid inward and snapped back into place with audible, sickening cracks but nothing was worse than the weak, finally waking girl when her jade orbs peered with no recognition into the face of Professor Blaze. Her hand made have tried to grip his hand roughly to ease her turmoil but it was nothing but a feathered touch, light and all too weak. She strained against hands that held her down with all the force of a feather-light infant, a choked groan of a wounded animal tearing from her parched, bloodied lips. From the areas they pressed, life visibly flooded through her, internally adjusted caved bone, flesh and bruise. Ivory health snaked its way from the largest wound, healing over the sickly rainbow of bruises on her torso and edging up past her chest and shoulders, down the length of her limbs. Coursing through her neck and face until eventually all bruising was gone and she was a bare, ivory angel. Color did not return just yet. From there every cut and graze from her hands, knees to the slice of the back of her head and the laceration at her throat – each wound began to heal and seal, disappearing without even the faintest trace of a scar. They were done. Color and health would return slowly, rest was all the girl could do now. Exhausted eyes that had been fixed on Xander's fluttered closed and it was as though she had never been awake.
00:38:55 Xan felt the feather-light grip on his hand and he looked up into those jade orbs, but his heart sank a little when he saw there was no recognition in them. He continued to stare into those pools of green, trying to make some connection with this small girl. He liked to think, and he had no clue that he was right, that what he had said to her in the woods had had an effect. Had helped to save her. He did not fancy losing another Magnus student. Luthor had already come down on him once for Charlemange's death. That had been a bad night for the werewolf. The Headmaster might be ancient, but rage made him vigorous. And the Headmaster had made it clear that should another Magnus student die on his watch, he would go into a spelled cell for a week as punishment. But this attack only enraged Xander. Charlemange's death had done so in the beginning, but with the pressure of classes beginning and the Masque approaching, he had forgotten it. Now he was more determined to find this murderer. He came back to reality when Lara's eyes closed and he realized that the healers were finished. They looked at him and nodded, "She will live, but she needs rest and fluids." Xander nodded and let his hand slip from Lara's. He motioned for them to move back and he resumed his original place. He very gently lifted her small body from the ground to take hold of her corset, that he'd slit open, and pulled it out from underneath her. Then he laid her back on the grass and tucked the corset around her as much as possible, covering her for the walk back to the school. Then he slid his arms under her and lifted her up gently into his arms. He rested her head against his shoulder and turned toward the school. The party trudged toward the building, and Xander's face, the first one anyone would see, was like death itself. Grim.
22:04:20 Xan had, at about the halfway mark in the night's festivities, gone patrolling through the halls. He had seen plenty of people walking out arm in arm, or leaned against one another. He actually saw one couple exiting with their faces mashed together! And so he'd gone roving through the school. Any time he encountered students alone, and it was usually a couple, he memorized their faces, removing their dominos if necessary. They would receive their punishments tomorrow. For fraternization, the punishment would likely be anything from a ten thousand word essay on the most boring subject imaginable to scrubbing floors or what have you. Busy work, mostly, to keep them from one another. But afterwards, at lights out, when he checked in on all the Magnus students he found one missing. As he saw her bed empty, he attempted to shrug it off as maybe she had passed out drunk somewhere. He went to bed with an uneasy feeling inside of him. He tossed and turned all night, rumpling his sheets and turning his bed into a disaster area. Near dawn he simply rolled out of bed and went to check on the students. The spiked punch had done it's work well, as all were deeply asleep. He went from room to room, counting filled beds and empty ones. He got to the bed that he had been worried about and he saw that it was still empty. His paranoia increased. The girl was naïve, and trusting. And no doubt the Kennedy boy had poured that concoction down her throat by the gallon, hoping to get lucky. He couldn't disturb the boy's sleep at the moment, however. No doubt Luthor would have something to say about it. And so he returned to his room, mind racing. He looked at the pack of cigarettes lying in the light of dawn streaming through his window. The half-empty bottle of whiskey standing not six inches from it. No, that was for the night. He went to his dresser and pulled on an UnderArmor shirt and yanked on his running shoes. A run would straighten him out. He left his room, pulling the door shit behind him. He passed through the halls, poking his head in classrooms and janitor's closets as he headed toward the fields. After all, Occam's Razor specified that the simplest explanation was usually the right one. She simply could have passed out in an empty room. But alas, there was no evidence of her passing. He jogged his way down the stairs and exited the school, moving toward the track, stretching out as he went, starting with his arms and pausing to stretch his legs. He had no idea that every second wasted was the second that Lara might slip into the darkness and never wake. When his feet hit the track, he started running. He took comfort in the feel of his heel striking the pavement. In every slight gust of wind that brushed his hair back from his forehead when he pushed off with his toes. It wasn't until he rounded the first turn of his run that he noticed the shape lying on the furthest field from the school. He slowed and adjusted his direction, turning toward the fence that separated the track from the bleachers. His eyes narrowed as he peered at it, thinking, . . . the bloody hell? It came into focus slowly. At first he thought it was a dead deer or something, what with the mainly golden coloring, but then the sale skin and the dark red stains came into focus and he pushed down on the top post of the fence, lifting himself up and over it easily. He jumped the next fence just as easily and he sprinted the width of three football fields in seconds. He skidded to a stop next to the small figure, dropping onto his knees in the dew-slick grass. His eyes were drawn to the wounds before the girl's face. He froze for a split second and suddenly his fist struck the ground, "No!" He ripped open the cage within his mind and became the beast, there on his knees beside her and helifted his muzzle heavenward, howling toward the dawn sky with rage mingled with anguish. Another attack. When he finished howling he filled his powerful lungs once more and repeated his action. That was sure to draw attention. And then he was human once again. His eyes roved her battered figure, hands hovering, recalling what he'd been taught by the Healers. Once he'd taken stock of her injuries he'd reach down to run place one of his hands against her face, "Lara? Lara, can you hear me?"
22:23:56 Lara lay alone for hours in the chill of an English morning, and it was any wonder that the girl did not freeze to death. Could the cold even be credited to her survival? With her wound pulled with constant movement she had risked bleeding out her demise and yet the brutality of the temperature kept the blood mostly at bay. Her mask was all but lost in the wood somewhere, broken from the force of being dropped and then used as a weapon, as for her dress the tulle was torn, bloodied, littered with twigs, dirt and brush and worn at the knees when she was reduced to crawling for safety. There was a faint fog cast over the forest and fields floor, swirling about the broken body tossed carelessly at it's edge. The night before she had been the belle of the ball, a new student and underclassman who had attracted the eye of the a 'most wanted' senior. Her gown had been beautiful, an angel in pale, muted gold. Now she was broken. Battered arms were draped at her sides, crooked at the elbow so that her hands were near in line with her heart-shaped visage, one splayed mottled with grazing and muck, the other closed in a dainty fist around an item that had saved her and one, combined with her foolishness, that had almost cost her the life she desperately fought for. Lara did not wake when Professor Blaze found her. Her body did not twitch, no expression crossed her face nor did her eyes open with any form of recognition. The sleep of the dying was a powerful barricade to the human world but, no. She wasn't dead just yet. Her chest did not seem to rise and fall with living breaths but she was barely, just barely still in our world – and not the next.
22:39:07 Arin hated things such as Balls, they were loud and obnoxious, especially in a place such as this. It was with great dismay he agreed to be one of the teachers who would supervise. It was beyond him as to why out of all the many staff members his presence was wanted so badly, perhaps it his was his skill set, or more likely because he generally was never seen doing anything other than teaching or studying. It was no wonder people got the idea he had nothing better to do, however, they were completely and entirely wrong...whoever they were....and he did intend to find out, eventually. A night filled with separating those who touched to much or danced to near was dreadfully dull. The school being one for delinquents one might think he would find more engaging pursuits than putting a ruler between students to ensure they couldn't procreate at a later time, yeah right. Finally the infernal thing would end and allow him to return to his study. Arin's study was conjoined with his personal quarters. He'd purposely chosen a room with a lesser bedroom, and a larger study because of his near obsession with ancient texts. On his way back to the study he'd pass many a snogging couple and only cough loudly and allow a portion of his magical aura to shine at then, normally more than enough for the couple to go scampering their separate ways. The sight of his many tomes and kindling fire would lift weight from his shoulders and force a sigh from his lips, finally. The fae wasted no time what so ever in stirring his coals and adding a few logs. Next was to pour himself a full brandy, down it, and refill it again for the purpose of enjoyment. A long, long, sigh he would breathe, tinged with the warmth of alcohol. Finally he thought, sitting down to open the tome before him. An unconscious smile crept across his lips and curled upwards without him even noticing, the tomes made him happy, their ancient knowledge and most of all their willingness to yield to him. It wasn't two brandys into his into his text before his blood curled and cause a shiver to cause him to splash a bit of the liquor on his immaculate table. Xan , no other werewolf within a hundred miles had such a resonate and power howl. Something was wrong, more than wrong...it was tragic. Without a second thought the professor leapt from his open study window, allowing his magnificent wings to burst from his back and save him the dreadful fall. Within moments he could fall from the sky beside Xan. Arin was clad only in a fine robe that was not fastened around his waist and a pair of simple black sweat pants. "Wh-....." The boyish looking man paused and recomposed himself, "What happened to her Xander?!" A feeble statement considering if the man he'd asked knew....he'd already ready be on the trail.
22:40:53 Kimber` ::: Sleepless nights were loathsome. Tossing and turning in her bed beneath sweaty sheets, Kimber groaned softly in aggravation before tossing the covers away completely. The air in her room was stagnant, stale, and brooding. This was not a place the shifter wanted to be right now. Body alight with anxious energy, she sat up in bed and ran her fingers through her thick mane of auburn, making her already mussed hair even wilder. From her window, slipping in through the drawn blinds, Kimber could see the soft rays of early morning. She had been kept awake the majority of the night by drunken students returning to their rooms following the party, but she didn't feel tired. There was an urge welling from deep inside her to get out and move, to flee the building and escape outside where she could fly. Fly. Yes. She wanted to fly, a familiar desire that had existed within her heart since early child hood. Hesitating no longer, Kimber leapt from bed and shot straight to the window. Clothed only in a simple white sleep shirt and red-plaid cotton pajama bottoms, she drew open the blinds and opened the window, then shimmied out of her clothing. For a moment she enjoyed the feel of the cool morning air wafting in through her window; it drew Goosebumps over her naked flesh before feathers sprouted to hide it. Shifting from human to hawk was as easy as breathing, her body just flowed into a new shape, like water filling a container. Perched on the window sill, Kimber spread her wings, testing them, before launching herself into the sky. She had always been clumsy for a shifter, on two legs as well as four, but in the air she could manoeuvre with grace. Her body was perfectly designed for flight, and she rode upon the uprising currents easily to a great height. Exhilarating. Flying was always exhilarating, no matter how often she did it. Beating her wings in powerful strokes, Kimber soared over the campus, angling her direction towards the fields. She watched the world below her, marvelling at the sharpness of her own avian eyes. As she approached the far field she caught sight of someone, and that's when she heard Xan howl. The sound stunned her, and for a moment her wings faulted, and she lost some altitude. It was not a good sound, and it made her stomach feel heavy, as if she had eaten a stone. Folding her wings she dropped lower and circled, making out the forms of Xan and Lara. She could see the blood and... Oh Christ. Her landing was rough; she shifted back a few feet above the ground, and dropped to the ground, stumbling slightly. " What the hell happened?" Kimber's tenor voice was shaking. Paying no mind to her use of profanity or her own nakedness, the shifter just looked wide eyed back and forth between Lara and Xan, and then to Arin when he arrived. "Is she breathing? Oh God, please say she's breathing.":::
23:08:57 Xan lightly slapped her cheek, trying to get her to wake, but it was all for naught. He tilted his head slightly, listening to her hearbeat, and his eyes took in her shallow breathing. He looked at the ornate corset and knew immediately that it was partly to blame. His eyes then moved to the rib bone that was jutting up through it where the blood was the thickest. he remembered back to the lessons he had been given upon becoming a teacher here. He had needed to know how to fix broken bones, since his class was a violent one. He had to know how to push them back into place without damaging anything further. He paused for a split second as he thought of what to do. The bone was mostly plugging the hole in her flesh from whence her life was leaking out drop by ruby drop. He reached down to the skirt and, ripped and dirty as it was, he needed the cloth. He ripped it, pulling off a long strip and balling it up in his left fist. He'd then reach back to and, as gently as he could, place his thumb on the blood-slick bone and push it back into place. Down through the fabric of the corset it went, back into the hole it had come through in her flesh. That was when Arin arrived. He shoved the balled up folds of cloth at the flight teacher, "Hold this." He then snapped his wrist and his fingernails became claws. He took hold of the top edge of her corset. That was when his claws slashed through the fabric. He destroyed it completely, but the restriction on her lungs would vanish instantly, allowing her, if she was able, to take deeper breaths. Then he pushed it away from her skin, "Put pressure on that wound. Be as gentle as you can, but try and stop the bleeding." He glanced away and noticed that there was a girl there now, a student, "You. There should be Healers out looking for me. Go and lead them here. Now." His tone was as hard as steel, and brooked no argument. She would get no fewer than one hundred lashes if she didn't instantly obey. He looked back down at the frail, dying girl and looked for other life-threatening wounds. The bruising on her head looked a little serious, but he knew internal bleeding was the most derious danger. If she had been bleeding internally all night, she might be beyond the help of the healers. He looked up at Arin, "It looks like Charlemange's killer has struck again. I wonder how Lara survived. If Miss Quinn's body was anything to go by, this killer, whoever it is, is very good. This girl should not be alive right now." He looked over Lara, noticing the small scrapes that littered her arms and when his eyes alighted upon her hands he saw that one was curled tightly about a pair of objects. He reached up and would gently pry her fingers open to reveal that bright pink zippo that she always carried to make use of her fire mage status, and a gold pendant in the shape of a capital letter X. He took both items and examined them before he tucked them both into the tight black spandex that was all that remained of his clothes after his abrupt shift into werewolf form.
23:26:32 Lara was more or less dead weight, oblivious to the slap on her beaten face nor the arrival of Arin nor the.. naked student? What?! Dead to the world, almost literally. Xan's quick thought and removal of her corset did ease the dying femme's struggle for femme, the faintest sounds of a wheeze laced with each fighting breath made. Once revealed, her bare torso was a sight that would turn even the most weathered warrior's stomachs for the girl had received a serious beating. There was barely an inch of crème flesh to be found amongst a myriad of purple, blue and yellow bruising, not to mention the stain of brown and scarlet blood that seeped from the wound created by her own bones. Her ribs her misshapen and there were clear 'dents' where there should have been rises. The bruising snaked up over full breasts and lead to fingerprints on her shoulders and the lock of hands around her throat. When he pried her hands apart he may have noticed the slight, live resistance as if the girl wished to hold onto her tokens. It was small, easily overlooked. But it was there. As for Lara's survival? It could only be credited to the unknown assailant who had spiked the punch as Braxton Kennedy had – only with an Ether-numbing Elixir, rather than mere alcohol. In her condition she was no match for a powerful caster but reduced to physical brutality, she had been able to pull through with sheer luck, one handy baby-pink zippo etched with <i>Princess,<i> and the advice of an angry Were given in the same place she found herself at death's door.
23:31:38 Arin despaired at not being able to affect the girl with his limited magical talents, flight and swordplay being more his forte. Had be been a magician he'd have been more use, but alas he was not and thus he could do no more than aid in the basic first aide already being administered to the broken looking girl. He'd wasted no time obeying the alpha wolf, never mind his own arrogance and self sense of status, a girl's life was at stake, and yet it still bothered him to be spoken to as if he was a mere peon. "Apparently, Lara you say? Was a good deal stronger than her attacker gave her credit for. Whoever HE is, for we can surely assume the killer is male, he won't make this mistake again." Only now did the Ether History professor come to notice a girl, a student , had appeared amongst them. Just before he could open his mouth to give instruction Xan was already at it. Arin immediately cooled his annoyance at once again being seconded. Arin would pause a moment to visibly scold himself for such himself for such thoughts, his ego needed to be kept in check from time to time as the fae were indeed a proud and vain folk. "This be damned, should I fly her to the medical ward? My strength can carry her as far as my arms will allow." His voice cracked a little as he glanced down at the all but entirely broken femme body before he and Xan.
23:37:26 Kimber` ::: When Xan gave her an order Kimber managed a stiff nod of compliance, before shifting back into a hawk and lifting up into the sky. She hadn't recognized the injured girl, but the image of her poor beaten face was seared in the shifter's mind. Without knowing her name, Kimber prayed for the girl's survival, and for speed to bless her flight. She flew up high in order to secure the best vantage point of campus. Hovering, she looked all over in a near-panic until her sharp eyes finally fell upon a trio of healers making their way from the school. Screeching in her avian voice as loud as she could manage, Kimber folded her wings and dove towards the group. In a flurry of feathers she flew low, then changed back. She was yelling before her feet had even touched the ground. " Mr. Blaze found an injured girl! She's in real bad shape! I'll lead you to them, please hurry!" As soon as the last word left her lips, Kimber shifted back into a hawk and shot up into the sky with a screech. She hadn't waited for a reply, but she didn't need to. The healers were already hurrying after her, as fast as they could without wings. In Kimber's mind they seemed to take forever! She had to keep circling back to make sure no one lost their way in the tall grass. When the trio finally reached the scene of the incident, the shifter landed on the ground a few feet away, not wanting to crowd the poor fallen girl. This time, however, she didn't revert back to her human from right away. Her feathers were ruffled, and she kept fluttering her wings nervously. Kimber couldn't really see what was happening to Lara with everyone gathered around her, but she refrained from drawing closer for fear of getting in the way. When Arin presented her with his robe, the shifter finally changed back, and humbly accepted the garment. "T-Thank you..." :::
23:57:16 Xan looked up at Arin when the fae took on an instructing tone of voice. He growled, "I know ou murderer is a male. I had his scent in my nostrils the night Charlemange died. The reason this murderer isn't dead yet is because there were two male scents in that bathroom, and I haven't caught a whiff of either of them." He reached down to Lara, looking at her still face. He had felt that little bit of resistance and, surprisingly enough, it had torn at his heart that she had been so desperate to keep them that even knocking upon Death's door, she had still fought to keep them. His left hand caressed her heart shape face, a tender look upon his stubbled face. His right hand reached down to grasp the hand nearest him, fitting his into hers and gripping slightly. He hoped that she would feel it and know that she wasn't alone. He looked up when he heard the Healers of approaching and he breathed a sigh of relief. He slid down the length of Lara's small body, making room for the healers but continuing to grip the girl's hand. The Healers paid him no mind as their hands and eyes roved her limp figure. Their hands hovered inches over her bruised and cut flesh. One healer looked up at him, "We cannot pick and choose what to heal, Xander. If we are to save her, the lashes must go too." Xander nodded, "Do it. If the Headmaster has an issue with this, I will take his wrath. This girl must live." The Healer nodded and resumed his task. And then they began. One at a time, they placed their hands lightly upon Lara's ruined flesh and began channeling their healing energies into her. The first one started with the most serious, focusing on her rib cage. The girl's limp body jerked every time one of her ribs set itself and healed in a matter of seconds. This happened to each and every one of her ribs. Then the wound in her side closed itself off and left nothing but perfect skin in it's wake. This kind of repair went on for a couple of minutes before he took his hands off her and backed away to let the next one begin.
00:11:41 Lara 's body was at the mercy of the Hex Healers, and well placed in capable hands. Their Ether coursed through them and into her, breathing life and mending what may never have been unbroken in the human world. The first was the worst. The hands width bone that jutted grotesquely from her torso slid inward and snapped back into place with audible, sickening cracks but nothing was worse than the weak, finally waking girl when her jade orbs peered with no recognition into the face of Professor Blaze. Her hand made have tried to grip his hand roughly to ease her turmoil but it was nothing but a feathered touch, light and all too weak. She strained against hands that held her down with all the force of a feather-light infant, a choked groan of a wounded animal tearing from her parched, bloodied lips. From the areas they pressed, life visibly flooded through her, internally adjusted caved bone, flesh and bruise. Ivory health snaked its way from the largest wound, healing over the sickly rainbow of bruises on her torso and edging up past her chest and shoulders, down the length of her limbs. Coursing through her neck and face until eventually all bruising was gone and she was a bare, ivory angel. Color did not return just yet. From there every cut and graze from her hands, knees to the slice of the back of her head and the laceration at her throat – each wound began to heal and seal, disappearing without even the faintest trace of a scar. They were done. Color and health would return slowly, rest was all the girl could do now. Exhausted eyes that had been fixed on Xander's fluttered closed and it was as though she had never been awake.
00:38:55 Xan felt the feather-light grip on his hand and he looked up into those jade orbs, but his heart sank a little when he saw there was no recognition in them. He continued to stare into those pools of green, trying to make some connection with this small girl. He liked to think, and he had no clue that he was right, that what he had said to her in the woods had had an effect. Had helped to save her. He did not fancy losing another Magnus student. Luthor had already come down on him once for Charlemange's death. That had been a bad night for the werewolf. The Headmaster might be ancient, but rage made him vigorous. And the Headmaster had made it clear that should another Magnus student die on his watch, he would go into a spelled cell for a week as punishment. But this attack only enraged Xander. Charlemange's death had done so in the beginning, but with the pressure of classes beginning and the Masque approaching, he had forgotten it. Now he was more determined to find this murderer. He came back to reality when Lara's eyes closed and he realized that the healers were finished. They looked at him and nodded, "She will live, but she needs rest and fluids." Xander nodded and let his hand slip from Lara's. He motioned for them to move back and he resumed his original place. He very gently lifted her small body from the ground to take hold of her corset, that he'd slit open, and pulled it out from underneath her. Then he laid her back on the grass and tucked the corset around her as much as possible, covering her for the walk back to the school. Then he slid his arms under her and lifted her up gently into his arms. He rested her head against his shoulder and turned toward the school. The party trudged toward the building, and Xander's face, the first one anyone would see, was like death itself. Grim.