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Post by Azrael Everett on Sept 26, 2010 10:27:13 GMT -5
 Azrael reached the bottom of the stairs at the Big House and realized that he would be unable to simply guide this girl up them with her ankle being screwed up. Without hesitation Az scooped Sam up in his arms struggling to keep his ability held back completely. He hurried inside and dropped her on the closest bed. Azrael dusted his hands off and stared hard at Sam. She wasn’t like any demi-god he had ever really met before. Normally other half-bloods were slightly afraid or intimidated by him simply because of his lineage. Like how kids avoided the Hades cabin, same thing different verse. Az crossed his arms and sighed.
Sadly enough Sam started to remind him slightly of someone he once knew. Katrina. The two of them polar opposites in many ways. For one, it looked like Sam would shank anyone who tried to get her to wear any shade of lipstick. She’d as soon break a mirror because it dared to hold her reflection, while Katrina practically worshiped mirrors as the Egyptians worshipped cats. The personality though had hints of similarities. Both highly independent and both initially annoying. Az wanted to touch this girl so bad…not in that way of course. He groaned softly as that phrasing entered his head. He wasn’t as much of a perve as he came off.
Azrael pinched the bridge of his nose and saw that no one was rushing to help this girl. He was ready to dip out and sarcastically wish her well, but his conscious wouldn’t allow that. Azrael left the room and came back with a pair of tan gardening gloves and a ball of gauze. He pulled up a stool and squatted. Azrael looked like a giant compared to the tiny footstool. His knees jetted upward. Moving forward he put the gloves on in a very professional doctor type way. He would have let them snap if the material allowed. Azrael beamed at Sam and winked. “It seems I’ll be your doctor this evening. Names Dr. Everett. You can call me The Doctor, or Dr. Sexy. Dr. Sexy is preferred.” He chortled and looked down toward her ankle. “Alright, what seems to be the problem here?”
Azrael had never really healed anyone before, this was new to him. He had tended to his own wounds but he didn’t know how to set a twisted or broken ankle. This was a job for a kid of Apollo. Too bad none were in the freaking area! Lousy artists. Only around when they think it’s beneficial to them and their work. He tried his best to look as confident as possible. Trouble was Azrael probably looked a little too over confident. |
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Post by samanthasmith on Sept 26, 2010 21:31:56 GMT -5
Sam held in her complaining as they made their way through the camp from the tree to the large house. She really hated being as helpless as she was, but there was nothing she could really do. That didn’t stop her from overreacting to Azrael scooping her up. The Demi-Goddess was so surprised at first that she didn’t do anything, but after a few seconds that wore off with no problem. She screamed and kicked and attempted with all her ability to get out of his grip. Which in turn hurt her leg from all her kicking. She let out a pained scream, curling as much into a ball as she could to hold her knee and in doing so moved closer to Azrael unintentionally. Soon enough though she was dropped flat on her back, another bit of pain searing through her knee. After she was over the first huge wave of pain she glared up at Azrael. “Go to Hell!” she snarled at him in a raged voice. The thought of him being the only one around to help her temporarily left her. She hissed through her teeth as another wave of pain seared her leg. Samantha let out another huge wave of pain shot through her leg. She rang out another string of curses. Her jeans were soaked with blood at the knee. Apparently something had cut as well. At least she wasn’t attached to them, which made what she was about to do so much easier than it would have been for a crazed teenage prom queen. She pulled her jean jacket off since the sleeves were somewhat binding. Not to mention she was inside a house now and didn’t really need it. She pulled a pocket knife from her boot and ripped a tiny hole above her knee before cutting all the way around. Then she cut down the side before ripping down the pant leg. Maybe later she would do the same to the other side and create a nice little set of shorts. Enough of that though. Slowly she pulled away her leg, wincing as part of the denim stuck to her open wound. Sam glanced up as Azrael left the room in somewhat of a bit of a hurry. She grumbled to herself and not watching what she was doing stuck her hand with the knife. Sam let out a small yelp, examining her hand as the weapon dropped to the floor with a small clatter. Luckily she had only pricked it, it just hurt really badly. She wiped her hand on her tank top and watched as Azrael returned back to the room with a set of gloves and some gauze. As soon as he sat down and finished his little speech, she reached up and grabbed his collar. Samantha ignored the pain, wincing and growled at him. “Try anything funny and I’ll make sure you'll never have any kids, got it, Dr. Wisecracker?” she shoved his shirt away and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, breathing hard. She would have preferred a real doctor, but when did she ever get what she preferred? Word Count: 525 |
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