|
|
Post by Hunter Lodge III on Nov 18, 2009 0:43:23 GMT -5
Hunter was not happy. He had already found a number of anti-werewolf propaganda fliers littered throughout the school, and as he turned into the doorway of the library, he saw a good number more of the blood red posters taped to the walls. He reached out and tore one of the lying pamphlets off the door, silently wishing his mother had allowed him his fangs today.
“Where are you, bloodsucker?” He called out. “I know you've been here, I can smell the decay!” The librarian threw a loud shush his way, but Hunter didn't have time for the worthless laws of man. His steel-toed boots thudded across the floor as he prowled through the large room, ripping down the trail of crimson paper the vamp had left behind her. How foolish of Sidra, to make herself so easy to follow. Hunter knew he couldn't smell her for real, just as he knew deep down she did not reek of rotten flesh. But he was too caught up in the fantasy of it all to worry about such trivial things.
The fliers led Hunter towards the back of the library and into the tall stacks filled with no doubt worthless tomes dedicated to science and logic. Mankind seemed too obsessed with such things to even notice the incredible world around them anymore, and such texts were merely testaments to the blindness. And if Sidra had her way, the Vampires would eradicate Gaia's best means of defending herself!
Hunter could hear the shuffling of papers around the end of a stack. He had her, finally! Back in the end of the stacks, no one would notice the disappearance of one measly vampire. A wicked grin spread across Hunter's face and he quickly wheeled around the corner, a loud growl emanating from his mouth.
But all he found was disappointment as the victim was most definitely not Sidra Cotton. It wasn't even a vampire, just some mere mortal!
|
|
|
|
Post by Annie Holmes on Nov 18, 2009 1:20:00 GMT -5
Most decidedly not hungry, Annie had found herself in the library on her knees on the floor, books surrounding her as she flipped through the pages. She needed four more citations for her paper on the history of the Party system in politics. Positive that she was leaving things out, Annie had headed straight for the library after class and surrounded herself with books and notes.
The cupcake that topped a pen bobbed on it’s spring as she wrote furiously with one hand while the finger of the other traced the line she was copying, until the vibration of the floor told her that someone had approached and in less than a neutral manner.
It’s too soon!
Her mind bellowed as her heart rate accelerated. Visions of being locked in a small closet again flooded her mind as Annie’s frightened face swung up and around to watch her perceived attacker loom over her. The growl on his face was more than enough to let her know that no, it was not too soon, apparently for another attack on the school.
The book she had been copying from came up and between her and the rather irate looking male as a feeble means of warding him off as her eyes squeezed shut waiting for…whatever.
|
|
|
|
Post by Hunter Lodge III on Nov 18, 2009 1:46:05 GMT -5
The frightened look on the poor girl's face actually made Hunter freeze in place. Oddly, no sound came out of the girl's mouth. Hunter was momentarily confused until a scent he could actually smell wafted up to his nose. Vanilla. He peered around the book and his suspicions were correct. He had just scared the daylights out of the deaf girl, Annie.
Guilt invaded Hunter's mind. Annie Holmes was one of the few people that even he had no ill will toward. She was nice to everyone, she was conscientious of the world around her, and once she had randomly handed Hunter a cupcake. He was standing in the hallway minding his own business when a delectable treat was thrust his way. He never forgot the cute girl's kindness, and though he had never talked to her, let alone thanked her for the generous gift, Hunter had always at least tried his best not to bother her.
And yet here he was, doing quite more than just bothering the poor frightened thing. What an idiot he was! It's what always happened anytime someone was nice to him, he just turned around and treated them like crap. In his frustration Hunter kicked one of the books lying on the ground. He turned to walk away, then thought better about it. At the very least, he needed to apologize. Revenge on the corpse could wait at least a little while.
Hunter reached out, touching the book Annie held, and slowly lowered it so he could see her face clearly. “Mm sorry...” he mumbled.
|
|
|
|
Post by Annie Holmes on Nov 18, 2009 14:04:35 GMT -5
When neither a painful blow, nor a shove came her way, Annie dared to crack an eye open just as the book she was using as a shield was lowered.
Mm sorry…
Though mumbled the word was readable as red eyebrows scrunched toward each other. If he wasn’t going to attack her then who? Reaching out she tapped his nose with a forefinger, both an admonishment for his actions, and a reminder of who he was. Gould’s very own wolf-boy. He always looked so lonely and withdrawn that her heart went out to him.
Granted her heart went out to just about everyone, but to Hunter in particular. He was like a lost puppy in a lot of respects and who couldn’t resist trying to help a lost puppy? Certainly not the tiny teen on the floor. The hand attached to the finger that had tapped Hunter on the nose moved way and shook in the “Ok” sign. She wasn’t mad at him for scaring her, he probably hadn’t meant to. Though she did wonder who he thought had been behind the shelves. Most likely the ultra-goth who went around and delighted in trying to scare other people. Maybe Hunter was just trying to give her a bit of her own medicine. Or maybe it had something to do with the anti-were stuff she’d seen around.
Tilting her head to the side, and setting the book down she leaned forward on her knees again hands moving slowly as she signed simple signs.
You Ok?
A good number of students knew sign simply because of exposure to it, the new Japanese kid had been coming along great when she had been able to get together with him. For the most part she used simple signs, and “general gestures” to get her meaning across to people. Or she’d write it down, or type it into her phone, but neither of those other options occurred to her in that moment.
Heart rate still up, she grinned and the rather odd sound that was her laugh accompanied a quick signing of At least I know it still works. As she tapped her chest in indication she meant her heart.
|
|
|
|
Post by Hunter Lodge III on Nov 19, 2009 1:40:04 GMT -5
The small finger that tapped on his nose had a significant effect on Hunter. Though he felt guilty before, something in the light tap made him feel like a real ass. He attempted to give the girl's hand a half-hearted swat away from his face, but he barely got his paw anywhere even near the delicate looking hand. He really hadn't meant to scare anyone (other than Sidra, but she could take it, he knew) and he definitely did not want to hurt anyone. Yet it always seemed to happen to him, no matter what. There was nothing he could do about it, he was just not meant to be around people.
He was surprised, however, when the redhead sat forward and moved her hand slowly. Though he only had a general understanding of sign language (just what they had taught his class in elementary school, he remembered most of the alphabet and a few other basics), it seemed as if she were asking him if he were okay. Taken aback, Hunter barely managed to nod a “Yes.” Why would this girl care what he was feeling? Nobody ever cared. Heck, if anyone wanted proof, all they had to do was look around the school and see all the kids talking about vampires, and how “cool” they were, and how weres are a blight on humanity! If only the knew that the Garou and other shapeshifters were trying to protect the Earth!
An awkward noise drew Hunter's attention back to Annie. She had laughed, a sound she wasn't used to making. Hunter understood that. He didn't laugh much at all, either. He didn't understand her next sign, however, only that she pointed to her heart. He had no idea what she was getting at, so he just shrugged and stood awkwardly for a few moments. Finally he was able to come up with the bright idea of extending his hand to help her up.
|
|
|
|
Post by Annie Holmes on Nov 21, 2009 12:46:38 GMT -5
With a smile, Annie accepted the helping hand up, and once she was firmly on her heels, knelt down and grabbed her notebook and cupcake topped pen. The books that had been scattered around her could wait as the paper wasn’t due until the following week. Quickly scribbling a note on her pad, the smaller student held it up for Hunter to read.
I’m ok too. Please don’t look sad.
No one deserved to look like a kicked puppy. Kicked puppies didn’t deserve to look like kicked puppies. Or to be kicked. Tilting her head she waited for a response or reaction from the boy and smiled again when he met her gaze. It was important to reassure him that she was OK. Just a little startled. Though maybe she was a touch more jumpy these days than she otherwise would have been.
Maybe it was time to talk to the trauma counselor the school had gotten in because of the shootings. There were so many other people who needed to see him though, her issues were minor compared to folks like Phil who’d lost his sister and had some sort of weird sense of guilt because of it.
Even still, Annie’s hands were shaking, adrenalin took a bit to get out of the system once it had been introduced and fear was one of those that rushed the system with it. It was gonna take a bit for Annie to stop with the hand shakes, but she knew Hunter hadn’t meant her any harm. He was too much of a loner, which was puzzling to her. He seemed nice enough. Certainly wasn’t horrible to look at, but for some reason he stayed on his own. Whenever she saw him in the halls he was… alone. No friends that she could see, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have any.
The sad eyes though…
|
|
|
|
Post by Hunter Lodge III on Dec 1, 2009 18:46:43 GMT -5
The small girl stood holding a brightly colored cupcake pencil, and Hunter noticed that she seemed to be quite the antithesis of himself. He generally dressed in drab, dull clothing, yet her attire screamed cheerful. He was quiet and brooding, and she was friendly and, well, also quiet but she communicated often nonetheless. Her kindness and warmth made Hunter feel a bit uncomfortable for some reason. So did her acute observation written on her notebook.
He nearly growled when he read the swoopy handwriting. “I'm not sad!” he declared aggressively, standing as tall as his short stature would allow. His eyes, though, could not remain on hers and he found himself scouring book titles, his mind momentarily distracted. He was a loner, he told himself, not lonely. He preferred his isolation from society, his Garou nature screaming to him that the social construct was detrimental to the earth. But he could not lie to himself, and Annie had been able to see that deep down Hunter was a small, scared boy and not the lycanthropic predator he so desired to be.
Realizing she couldn't tell what he said unless she could see his face, he managed to force his gaze back onto Annie, though he couldn't look much higher than her feet quite yet. He noticed her hands were shaking. Was that because of him? As much as he hoped it wasn't, he knew he had to shoulder the blame. He reached out instinctively and grasped one of her hands, trying to hold it and keep it from shaking. “Mm sorry,” he mumbled again, then raised his head a bit so she could see. “Sorry,” he repeated, trying to form the word clearly so she could tell what he was saying. He finally met her gaze once again, and her smile made him feel a strange sense of protectiveness towards her. Even if it was him she needed to be protected from.
|
|
|
|
Post by Annie Holmes on Dec 1, 2009 20:20:34 GMT -5
The series of movements and body language the boy used spoke of conflicting bravado. First he stood tall, but couldn’t or wouldn’t meet her gaze. When he did finally look at her again, she apologized. Again. There were some major guilt issues there, and she had no idea why. Maybe if she’d paid more attention… but she did pay attention, he was just always off on his own.
Tucking her notebook beneath her chin and gripping the pen between her teeth she patted the hand that gripped hers. The trembles were still there, but they were slowing. She’d be fine in a few more minutes, but there was something off. People should smile, they should be happy and have friends. She had friends, a LOT of friends. Or at least people who knew her and liked her. But what about Hunter? His being alone was a choice, she hadn’t really seen anyone go out of their way to be cruel to him. It was odd how open a lot of the students were, how accepting, even outside of their own clique. Or maybe she really didn’t see as much as she would like to. As much as she figured she did.
Taking the patting hand from his she held it up, thumb and forefinger created a circle, the other three were up. OK, it said. Both, the situation was OK and she accepted his apologies. Though she still wanted to know why he had sad eyes. Why he stuck to himself, and vowed inwardly that she was going to make sure he at least had ONE smile a day. Even if she had to go out of her way for it.
Removing the pen from between her teeth she tucked it behind her ear, the bobbling cupcake just at the corner of her eye. How much longer was there in the lunch hour? Maybe she could feed him after all, she had some mini cupcakes in her locker and a sandwich her dad had made her for lunch, she could split that with him if he was hungry.
Miming eating with her free hand she pointed at him with a jabbing finger and tilted her head to the side in a question.
|
|
|
|
Post by Hunter Lodge III on Dec 2, 2009 0:39:10 GMT -5
As Annie started to pull her hand away, Hunter began to worry if he had crossed a touching boundary. He let her hand slide away easily, and even though she followed with an okay sign, he still was concerned he had gone to far. To be fair, Hunter rarely ever touched anyone else other than the occasional bump in the hallway, and he even did his best to avoid those. Usually when he did touch someone on purpose, it was more of a violent action. A shove, a punch... a bite.
Hunter's hands immediately took residence in his pockets, though one finger was able to stick out of his left side pant leg. He nervously played with the hole as Annie indicated something about food, and then about him. Her face looked as if she were asking a question. Hunter didn't think he was very good at figuring out her signs, because it seemed to him that she was asking if he wanted to eat with her. Or possibly eat her, but he didn't think that was the case. Werewolves rarely actually ate anyone. That was more of a fanger thing.
“You want food?” he questioned, not sure that a cute girl would actually want to eat with him. His words came out slowly so that Annie wouldn't get as confused as he was. “With me?” He shrugged with uncertainty, then realized if he was wrong it just looked as if he were asking her to get something to eat. Like a date. A look of horror flashed across his face and one hand moved up to his neck, rubbing the hairy patch of skin. It almost felt as if the hair on his head was trying to meet up with the hair on his back to for an inter-Hunter follicle highway. A few years ago Hunter would have tried his best to keep that from happening, but he has since embraced his hirsute nature.
Hunter decided his best course of action was to get away from the girl. Her presence alone made him uncomfortable in a lot of ways, and he had never really felt like that before with one exception. It was not a feeling he particularly enjoyed. His second hand escaped from the pocket as he spun around quickly attempting to evacuate himself from Annie's presence. His plans were foiled, however, by a simple step-stool that had been hiding unnoticed behind him.
Hunter tumbled to the ground in an instant, unable to catch himself from falling. He hit the ground with a thud, and his head began to ring. He lay there for a moment, his face hot with both embarrassment and pain. He finally rolled over and put a hand to his nose, feeling blood. Tears began to form in the corner of his eyes as he looked to Annie, their positions reversed from how they had been mere minutes ago. He did his best to blink them away, hoping the girl didn't notice.
|
|
|
|
Post by Annie Holmes on Dec 2, 2009 1:23:21 GMT -5
She’d never had anyone run from her before. Nor from food… he truly was a strange person, that Hunter. When he fell she was quick to follow, on her knees beside him her hands reached for his to pull him into a seating position. Should she take him to the nurses station?
Somehow, she figured that she’d offended him, why else would he have been so quick to try and run away. Was it because she was deaf? Didn’t/couldn’t talk? She knew that some people reacted strangely to that, but mostly it was with pity, not fear. Or horror.
Concern colored her features as she took note of the blood, but ignored the tears. Most guys didn’t like having that sort of thing pointed out to them, and she was sure that she’d offended or scared him somehow. Just couldn’t put two-and-two together. It had to be HER, and not the actual suggestion of food. Tilting her head to the side she pressed a hand to his knee, her arm warmers would catch the blood better than skin, even if it meant staining the lime green cupcake decked items.
Her pen was still behind her ear, but the notebook had fallen, and she couldn’t quite reach it to write her question. Was he Ok? He didn’t LOOK ok, but he might have a different answer for her.
|
|
