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| Consciousness is Vastly Overrated; (Cont. from "Here We Go Again") | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Thursday Aug 5 2010, 11:00 PM (470 Views) | |
| Kisho Arai | Thursday Aug 5 2010, 11:00 PM Post #1 |
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Werewolf
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Kisho slipped into himself too much to understand what was going on around him. Blurred sounds of leaves rustling melded into wind whipping his hair melded into being picked up melded into warped voices melded into unintelligible words melded into flashbacks melded into pain melded into unconsciousness melded into awakening. As Kovu lifted him up, which the bleeding boy didn't realize was happening, Kisho gasped and cried out in agony. At one point on the way to the infirmary, where he didn't know he was going, Kisho's world faded to black. For almost a full minute, he rested in a world of nothingness. However, he awoke with a moan followed by a cry as pain (from being placed in an infirmary bed) overwhelmed him. Through glazed eyes, the wounded young man gazed uncomprehendingly at the nurse tending his life-threatening injuries. One minute his blurred vision glimpsed the nurses' uniform, the next minute he saw two yellow eyes staring down at him. One second he thought he knew what was going on, but the next second he saw himself in another hospital surrounded by his parents, best friend, and girlfriend. Searing pain brought his attention back to the infirmary, where his mind only registered white. Overwhelming pain sent his mind searching for a safer place, and soon Kisho began drifting through still images and moving pictures of his distant past. For once, pleasant memories danced across his mind. Akari's laugh, Raidon's jokes, playing games during recess, his first best friend Luke, a normal meal with his parents... "AAH!" Kisho cried when the nurse shifted him to continue mending his wounds. The intense pain immediately dropped him into unconsciousness. But, for once, what a blissful unconsciousness it was! For once, he wasn't plagued by bitter memories or tormenting flashbacks. No, his moment of agony dropped him right back into his stream of delightful, peaceful memories. |
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| Blair Woodward | Friday Aug 6 2010, 04:35 PM Post #2 |
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Blair walked silently towards the infirmary, hair covering her tear stained cheeks. She had went to her room to change and then to the Headmistress's office to talk with her. She had been chewed out, but Nami-sensei wasn't too mad. The red head had known the risks that either one of them could be hurt during this, but didn't expect it to happen. Neither of them did. Remorse was eating the pink haired girl alive. Why did it have to be him? Now, he would hate her. Tears started to flow again. Blair stopped at a window to sit on the sill and cry out all of her pain. Other students passed by her yet none offered counsel. The poor girl was alone. Blair curled up as best as she could to protect herself, but it didn't help. "Who's that girl?" "Why is she crying?" "She's a third year." "I heard she's a were." "Is she the one that hurt that boy a while ago?" Blair sobbed louder at the words. She wanted to yell at them and tell them to go away. But, she held herself back. What if she changed again? Hurt someone else? The third year wiped away the tears and snot from her face and stood. The pink haired girl walked faster towards the infirmary, to escape the ridicule. What did they know about her? Were they these all knowing gods and goddesses that had the power, no, right to judge her?! She didn't think so but, hell, things were not always what they seemed. Blair opened the door to the infirmary slowly. The nurse's head quickly shot up to give a saddened stare at the werewolf. The only thing that kept Blair from running to his side was the amount of equipment and things separating them. So, she gingerly walked around the things and made it to his side. She grabbed his hand and gripped it tightly. |
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| Kisho Arai | Friday Aug 6 2010, 05:06 PM Post #3 |
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Werewolf
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A blonde-headed, blue-eyed boy of seven years laughed freely while he ran around his best friend's backyard. The two boys were engaged in a spirited game of Cowboys and Indians, where they were the heroic cowboys and various invisible persons or inanimate objects played the part of the Indians. The two friends had participated in the game earlier that Thursday during recess with a large group of their friend, and they'd had so much fun that they carried the game over into the afternoon. Presently, the dynamic duo held nine prisoners, left an invisible companion to guard them, and now ran around the yard on sticks which were their trusty steeds. Waving fingers shaped as guns in the air, the boys shouted commands and threats to the non-compliant Indian chief and his remaining tribe members. The chief had refused the cowboy's request for trade and peaceful relations, so the two boys were now forced to obtain their goals through more violent means. "Get the womenfolk outta here, Cowboy Luke," Kisho told his friend in an obviously fake "cowboy" accent. Clearly he and his friend had watched one too many Westerns. "Roger, Cowboy Kisho!" Luke responded enthusiastically. In the same "cowboy" accent, he ordered the women around. "Come on, you women! Git! Go on! Git along!" Luke rode his horse forward and began gesturing towards the invisible women in an attempt to corral them. "Don't forget the chil'uns, too!" Kisho reminded him without breaking his threatening glare at the chief. His fellow cowboys had surrounded the chief's warriors, so the men had to stare on angrily as their mothers, wives, sisters, and children were taken hostage. Cowboy Luke began herding the women and children back towards his and Kisho's camp to be guarded by their fellow cowboys. Just as Luke reached the half-way point, where Kisho and the rest of the chief's tribe could barely see them anymore, the chief called out, "Wait!" After some brief negotiations, the chief and his warriors surrendered and were reunited with their families. Kisho, Luke, and their gang let out a victorious cheer. |
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| Blair Woodward | Friday Aug 6 2010, 06:15 PM Post #4 |
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Blair turned to the nurse as she was tending to his wounds and said, "How bad is it?" Her voice was like a child's who had just lost something close to them. She looked back down at the unconscious Kisho and his face once again melded into Michael's. His body laying out on the ground, cold. She shivered and shook the vision away as the nurse started to whisper. "It's really bad. He may be in here for weeks, maybe months. I may have to ship him off to a hospital, if my potions can't do the trick," the kind staff said, in a grave tone. Blair knew she was very good at fixing people, but Kisho's wounds were grave. Tears started going down her face. She felt so guilty. If it wasn't for her, Kisho wouldn't be in this state at all. 'If it wasn't for me,' Blair kept repeating in her head. Maybe. Maybe it would be best if she left Kisho alone. She would just avoid him on full moons and not talk to him during class. Blair cried more at the thought. Her heart couldn't take the thought of being without him. Ariana watched from the corner of the shared mind as her sister's heart was breaking. "You know, sis. He might forgive you," thought the twin, pipping in for the first time since the incident happened. 'I don't think he will. It's just not who he is. He can't even forgive himself,' Blair thought back. The twin stayed quiet for a minute and said sadly, "I guess you're right, Blair. It's best if you leave now." |
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| Kisho Arai | Friday Aug 6 2010, 06:44 PM Post #5 |
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Werewolf
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Two years and many successful cowboy negotiations later, Kisho stood in a new school (in a school uniform - a first for him) in a new country surrounded by a familiar but somewhat unintelligible language. Yet even though he felt overwhelmed at such a drastic change and sad because he'd left his old lifestyle on another continent, Kisho found the new situation exciting. He found it a challenge that he could and would rise up, meet, and overcome. His father had spoken enough Japanese at home and, when Kisho had stated school, taught his son some of the more technical aspects of Japanese, so Kisho understood and recognize a majority of what he heard and saw around him. But the words he didn't recognize posed the challenge. Kisho was determined to learn it all. A boy Kisho assumed was around his own age walked up, gave him a curious stare, then spoke. It took the foreign boy a moment to comprehend everything this other student said, but he quickly sorted out the words and responded. A short conversation ensued as the two walked into the school and then, much to their delight, into the same class. By the end of the day, Kisho returned home with not only one new friend, but a good handful or two of new friends. He told his parents about his great first day, making sure to remember to speak in Japanese like his father wanted him to do from now on, and then ran up to his room to get his homework done. Of course, his parents hadn't expected any problems from his first day. Kisho had a magnetic personality and had never had difficulties making friends. Nevertheless, they couldn't help but smile proudly as they watched their son ascend the stairs. |
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| Blair Woodward | Sunday Aug 8 2010, 08:38 PM Post #6 |
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Blair squeezed Kisho's hand tightly once, as an I'll-be-back, and silently left. She went to her teacher's office to get her work, so she could keep up in case. Once Blair got back to the infirmary, she got to work, trying to keep her mind off of the fear and remorse running amok in her mind. She would be here to say she was sorry when he awoke and to promise him that she would leave him alone. Blair's heart panged at the fact that she would be ignoring him, but it would be for the best. She didn't want to hurt him. That would hurt her more. Kisho would certainly hate her when he got up, so, why stick around? It would only bring more mistakes on her part. Sad pink orbs darted to his face, which at the moment was peaceful, and then down to his stomach. The nurse was stitching it up and applying bandages. She had a potion ready to be placed in an IV to stick into his arm. She winced at the thought of that needle. She hated needles. Guilty. Her mind said. No, it was an accident. I didn't, she thought back in argument. Guilty, it persisted. No. Guilty. No. GUILTY. N-Nnn...Guilty. Edited by Blair Woodward, Sunday Aug 8 2010, 08:50 PM.
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| Kisho Arai | Monday Aug 9 2010, 09:49 PM Post #7 |
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Werewolf
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"Strike three! You're out!" the umpire called, ending the final inning. Cheers erupted from the young baseball team and the crowd of very proud parents. No sooner were the words out of the umpire's mouth than the entire team rushed onto the field, jumped about, and threw their arms around their teammates in celebration. The Springbrook Panthers had won their first match! Their victory hadn't come easily, though, and until the last two innings, the elementary schoolers had been behind. The majority of the kids on the team had average skill, a select few were lagging behind, and, of course, another select few had natural talent. Their practices usually ended with the star players making up for the weaker players, leaving the team's score just a point or two above their opponent's. Going into this first real game, their parents and coach crossed their fingers and hoped that the kids' wouldn't be disappointed. But their weeks of grueling practice, their ability to work as a team, and their determination to pull ahead led the Panthers to a stunning victory, with their final score being higher than any of the adults ever expected. The young Arai boy, age five and three-quarters (heaven forbid you forget the three-quarters! He wasn't just five, after all), chatted excitedly with his new best friend Luke in the car on the way home from their amazing victory. Baseball had been an interest of Kisho's ever since he could hold a ball and swing a bat, and his parents, acknowledging their son's natural talent for the sport, agreed to sign him up for their community's baseball team. Luke had also joined the team for the first time that year, and the two boys had become instant friends. The Thompson boy had a natural talent for baseball but, the Arai parents secretly and proudly thought, not quite as much as Kisho did. Still, their love of the sport and their (almost) equal skill in it bonded them instantly, and the parents soon found themselves chauffering the pair to one of the two households after every practice, after school (where they had the same class), on weekends, and practically every other day in between. "I'm gonna be a baseball player when I grow up," an almost-six-years-old Kisho informed Luke while catching a baseball in the Thompsons' backyard. With an effortless toss, he threw the ball back to Luke, who caught it with surprising skill. "I'm gonna be better than Babe Ruth. You watch!" To the two's limited baseball knowledge, that declaration sounded like the ultimate goal, the one thing in all of life that should be strived for. "Me, too. I'm gonna be a great baseball player. Hey! Maybe we could even be on the same team like we are now. And we'll become famous." Kisho and Luke could see it now. They'd be known as the Dynamic Duo, the ones to beat, the ones to admire. They'd become the new Babe Ruths. They'd become so famous and so loved in baseball that Babe Ruth's name wouldn't even compare, would be all but lost to history. Babe Ruth would be worshipping at their feet, coming to seek advice and tips from them. "Yeah." With another effortless catch, Kisho, lost in thought, grinned, threw the ball back, and whispered to himself, "Baseball." He really loved that sport. Edited by Kisho Arai, Monday Aug 9 2010, 09:51 PM.
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| Blair Woodward | Monday Aug 9 2010, 10:20 PM Post #8 |
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Blair watched as the nurse finished up. The kind woman turned to the werewolf and said, "That's all I can do for now. He has to heal. You may stay, if you wish." Then, the nurse left to her office to get his medicine in order. Blair turned back to Kisho, and with a sad stare, took out a blank piece of paper. Kisho, I am truly sorry for what I have done. I shouldn't have lost control like that, but I did. And now, you are paying the price for it. If you hate me, I understand. I'm not going to bother you any more. I'm sorry for all the pain and suffering I've already caused you. When you came around and I developed those heart aches, I thought that if I helped you, you would like me. Now, it's turned into much more than I can handle. I don't want to hurt another, so it's best if I just never date or love again. So, with this letter, I write my Adieu. I hope you get better. Farewell Kisho Arai, Blair Tears ran from her eyes as she scrawled out the words in English. She knew that most people couldn't read it, and she wanted it that way. Hopefully, she would never have to speak to him again. Of course, she still loved him, but, it was for everyone's benefit that she kept it to herself. She wasn't going to hurt anyone, especially him. She folded the note and, placing his name upon the top, laid it on the table beside his bed with the name facing up. She stood and placed her bag on her shoulder. Blair leaned over him and gave him one last token. A kiss upon his exposed forehead. Pulling away slowly and wiping a new crop of tears from her eyes, she walked quickly to the door. Edited by Blair Woodward, Monday Aug 9 2010, 10:27 PM.
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| Kisho Arai | Monday Aug 9 2010, 11:25 PM Post #9 |
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Werewolf
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Ah, movie night. Perhaps Kisho's favorite night of the week. For six days he looked forward to Friday. Akari would come home from school, get changed into a cute outfit, and come to his house to hang out before eating dinner with his family. Now that they were further into their relationship, most Friday night movie nights were spent with just her while his parents went and spent some time together themselves rather than the four of them having "family movie time". No parents meant no supervision. No supervision meant more cuddling. More cuddling meant more kissing. Nothing more than that, of course, but that was plenty. Just being around her intoxicated him. Kissing her meant losing himself completely. Movie nights were definitely his favorite nights. Tonight was no exception. Though a little tired from his hectic week of school, homework, and lots of baseball, Kisho's energy levels rose as soon as he heard the front door open. Akari came over so often now that knocking was no longer necessary. "Hey there," his beautiful girl greeted as cheerily as ever. Watching her cross the room to give his cheek a kiss, Kisho felt time slow down. The goddess walking towards him took his breath, and it took everything he had to pull himself back to reality and greet her in return. "Hey." A light kiss on her lips. "How are you?" "I'm good. Really good. I aced my math test. I just know it. All that studying last night really paid off." "That's wonderful! I told you it would be easy, that you could do it." "You were right. How are you? How was your day?" "It was fine, less hectic than all the others. I'm a bit tired, but nothing too bad. I'm just glad this week is over and that I get to see you." He kissed her again. "So, what do you want to watch tonight?" As if it mattered. "Anything." Dinner came and went just as perfect as always. Akari told his parents about her week, talking on and on and then apologizing for monopolizing the conversation. But Kisho didn't care. Her voice sounded sweeter than the cutest songbird's; he could listen to her talk for days on end. Kisho's parents left for their own movie after the kitchen had been cleaned, and the two young lovebirds headed into the living room for another night of romance. As had become a sort of tradition now, Kisho closed his eyes and picked a movie. A chick flick. That was fine, though. He might not readily admit it, but he was a sucker for chick flicks. Besides, they had the advantage of setting the mood for some serious cuddling and kissing. Halfway through the film, the kissing started up. Lots of slow, gentle kisses... His right arm, already around her waist, pulled her closer. His left hand gently cupped her face. Her hands reached out and played with his hair, ghosted across his arms. "I love you, Kari," Kisho mumbled before bringing his lips back to meet her soft, sweet, innocent ones. "I love you, too, baby," she returned soflty the next time they broke apart. Her hands gently pulled his face back the few centimenters that separated them. And so it went for the next half-hour. Soft, tender kisses. Light, shiver-inducing touches. Sweet, loving words. All of which ended back with her curling up against him to watch the last ten or fifteen minutes of the movie. Her head rose and fell with his breathing which, she soon discovered, was becoming shallower with every exhale. Kisho felt her sit up, heard her whispered "Aww", and sensed her cute, loving smile, but his eyes wouldn't stay open. Her light touch as she brushed his bangs out of his eyes only pushed him further into sleep. Aparently his hectic week had been more draining than he'd thought. "Mmm... Kari..." Kisho mumbled in the real world. He'd just received a gentle kiss on the lips from his beloved and drifted off into a blissful sleep while she showed herself out. |
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| Blair Woodward | Monday Aug 9 2010, 11:56 PM Post #10 |
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Before opening the door to leave, Blair gave the boy one last glance, in hopes that he'd be reading her note. His mouth opened and she held her breath. But, alas, it was incoherent mumbling, with a name she didn't know thrown in there. Her heart sank and with a new flood of tears, opened the door and went out. She slammed it roughly, not knowing why she was so angry. Was it him? How he had said another's name in his sleep? No, she shouldn't blame him. He was a boy after all and one could only win their affections by being perfect. She, the pink haired, skinny were, was far from perfect. Her skinny frame held no curve. Her once shiny hair had become dull. And her eyes were sad and full of tears. She didn't have much of a chest, or anything in the rear. Broad shoulders and long legs meant softball. No, Blair was angry with herself. For getting her hopes up. For trying to help him. For hurting him. For loving someone. She tore through the hallway, trying to get to her dorm. She needed to cry and scream into her pillow. She needed to vent the anger out. It was a good thing she didn't share her dorm. She didn't need another girl there. She'd seem like a brat. No, that's what she was. She was a brat. Blair Elizabeth Woodward was a big, fat brat. A stupid big, fat brat. That's why Kisho didn't like her. She always wanted her way and never stopped to listen to him. And I guess his wolf liked hers just to spite his real personality. That's it. He hated her! And she was too stupid to realize it. Blair made it to Nami's office before she sank to the ground and sobbed. The hallway was deserted, because everyone was in class. She curled up into a ball to protect herself from the outside world and the tears found their way the once dry floor beneath her. |
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| Kisho Arai | Sunday Aug 15 2010, 09:19 PM Post #11 |
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Werewolf
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-------------------- Two weeks had passed since the accident, and Kisho had spent half of it in blissful memories and the other half in blissful nothingness. For the first time in three years, Kisho slept peacefully. On a normal night, he tossed and turned to such an extent that his sheets ended up twisted around him or bunched up and halfway off his bed. On a normal night, his horrific nightmares woke him up at odd hours of the morning and made it difficult for him to fall back asleep and stay that way until classes the next morning. Since the training accident with Blair, though, the eighteen-year-old hadn't awoken once, and his sanity thanked his injured body heartily. Kisho needed a break from the endless onslaught of physical and mental agony his nightmares caused, so even if that break came through life-threatening means such as this, the young werewolf was grateful. Or would be grateful, whenever he woke up. The nurse couldn't believe how speedily and how thoroughly his wounds were healing! When the wounded senior had first entered the infirmary two weeks prior, he'd been so badly injured that the nurse hadn't been too optimistic about a quick recovery. In fact, she'd seriously thought her magic and potions wouldn't be strong enough to heal him and that he'd need to be taken to a hospital better equipped to handle wounds as serious as his. Much to her delight, however, one week of continuous treatment proved affective. Noticeable results began to appear, starting first with his bandages. The nurse had to change them two or three times daily for three or four days because the bleeding, though it had slowed after the first few hours, wouldn't stop completely. By the fourth or fifth day, however, the flow of blood finally ceased. By the end of his first week in the infirmary, the deathly paleness of his skin began to change into a healthier paleness. He no longer looked like a corpse, and that was as welcome a change as any the nurse had seen and continued to see in him. By the middle of the second week, an inspection of Kisho's wounds showed them to be healing much more rapidly than the nurse would ever have expected. The prospects for her gravely injured student began to brighten, and she took him off her mental "to be transferred" list to her "Infirmary ICU" list. Kisho's third week in the infirmary was officially beginning, as marked by the fresh change of bandages he had received earlier that morning. A moan of pain from him as she unwrapped the old bandages and replaced them with new ones elicited a smile from his caretaker. Consciousness had returned. Now all she could do was wait for a sign of his awakening. The nurse didn't have to wait much longer. As the sun began to set that same day, she heard a moan from Kisho's direction. Leaning back in the chair at her desk, she turned slightly and peered over her shoulder. Another moan coupled with some barely noticeable movement. Add to that some scrunching of the face, as though he were fighting to stay asleep, and the nurse knew he was on the verge of waking. And she was right. Not a minute later, Kisho's eyes slowly opened. Edited by Kisho Arai, Sunday Aug 15 2010, 09:20 PM.
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| Riley Mitaka | Sunday Aug 15 2010, 09:39 PM Post #12 |
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The light haired teacher slowly closed the door. She was carrying Kisho's assignments from the past two weeks and the ones for the next two in tow. She didn't know how long he would be out so she came prepared. The last she had heard was the he was unconscious and wasn't expected to be awake soon. But, as Riley reached closer to his bed, she was ecstatic. Her student was awake, but seemed to be in pain. No wonder! Blair had got him good. Speaking of the pink haired girl, she was always depressed. Poor girl. She must be really beating herself up over this. As soon as Riley reached the boy's side, she smiled warmly at him. "Kisho, I'm glad to see that you are awake. I was just stopping by to bring you your work, so that when you felt up to it, you could keep up with the rest of the class. Don't worry about finishing it in any sort of fast manner. The important thing for you to focus on is getting better. Also, I have a couple weeks ahead worth in assignments, so if you are in here longer than expected, you can keep up." Riley set the assignments down on the chair next to his bed. It wasn't too big of a work load. Just condensed notes and worksheets. He had one project to do, but it was easy and it was in the work that was supposed to be assigned next week. "Is there anything I can get you," She asked, spotting the note on his bedside table. She knew that hand writing from anywhere. It was Blair's. |
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| Kisho Arai | Sunday Aug 15 2010, 10:27 PM Post #13 |
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Werewolf
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Agony rushed to meet him even before his eyes fluttered open. Everything below his neck and above his waist pulsed with an intense pain. His left side in particular ached horrendously, from the outermost layer of skin to the innermost cell. Moving, as he made the mistake of doing by attempting to shift and sit up, brought dreadful stabbing pains. Laying still was his only option, which meant moaning in misery was his only way of expressing the horribly endless stream of pain radiating from his wounds. But moaning itself proved difficult, not only because of his utter lack of anything similar to energy but because his throat was so dry that it was sticking to itself. Mitaka-sensei, Kisho's homeroom teacher, entered and began talking to him, but Kisho, still disoriented from just waking, caught only bits and pieces of it. Even those pieces weren't guaranteed to be remembered, though, as the young man was only just now beginning to realize where he was and what that meant. Three weeks of time off meant the gears in Kisho's brain had to be oiled and warmed up, just like the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz. White, Kisho noted absent-mindedly, in every sense of the term. Lots and lots of white. The room he was in was clad in nothing but white. Making the mistake once again of moving, the werewolf shifted his head a fraction of a centimeter to get a better grasp of his surroundings, but shifting that little bit didn't do much more than send a spasm of pain shooting through him. "W...water..." the senior managed to whisper to no one in particular; he wasn't even fully aware that anyone was around. It would be a wonder if someone heard him, though. He hadn't spoken in so long, his throat was so dry, and his voice sounded so soft and weak that a being with super-supernatural hearing would barely catch what he said. He couldn't even gasp; it came out as nothing more than his breath hitching. Water might help, though, with more than just his voice. Maybe the soothing feeling of the cold liquid would pull that last bit of his mind out of the fog that was disorientation. Perhaps he would fully realize his teacher was beside him giving him work to keep him busy and offering to get him something. Maybe he'd notice that he was in the infirmary and that meant he'd been injured or was sick. Perhaps he'd remember what happened with Blair, and maybe he'd have the energy to read her note before passing out from exhaustion. No one ever said staying awake was easy! |
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| Riley Mitaka | Monday Aug 16 2010, 09:18 PM Post #14 |
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And soon, the silver haired teacher found herself giving the boy water at his request. She called the nurse over, however, to make sure he could get it down. Immediately, she wanted to scoop the boy up and be a mother to him. That's just how she is. She wanted to be a mother figure to her students. Riley turned to the nurse and asked, "When do you think he will be out?" "A week, maybe two. No more than three." "Okay, well, I brought him some work to keep him caught up. When he's feeling well enough to do it, will you get him to work on it some. I'd hate for him to be caught behind. A couple of girls offered to do it, but I said that he needed to learn it on his own," Riley said, turning back to Kisho. She wished she could do more for the boy. "Kisho, do you want me to hand you that note on your bedside table," She asked, pointing at the white paper. It was far enough away that he may get hurt if he reached too far. She didn't know if moving his arms hurt the wound or not. |
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| Kisho Arai | Monday Aug 16 2010, 10:18 PM Post #15 |
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Werewolf
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Hardly two minutes after his whispered request, the cool, refreshing, and most certainly welcome liquid met his lips, and he drank greedily, as though he couldn't and wouldn't ever get enough. And just as predicted, the water did more than quench his thirst; it pulled him out of his mind and into the real world. Disorientation left and realization dawned on him. He was in the infirmary. With a wound. That felt serious. And was on his left side. His teacher was beside him. His teacher was asking him a question. Something about a note. That caught him by surprise, but the only sign of it was a small, weak, confused look. Someone wrote him a note? He didn't have any friends and so had no one to write to him. Oh, no! Was he in trouble for something? Had the Headmistress written a note for him to speak with her after he recovered? What had he done? In fact, what had even happened to him? Why was he there? Something he couldn't quite grasp tugged at the back of his mind, but he couldn't remember a thing. How long had he been out? "N-note?" Kisho asked confusedly. Thanks to the water, his voice, though still weak, could actually be heard. Carefully but not entirely painlessly, the injured boy turned his head in Mitaka-sensei's direction. Sure enough, a simple piece of paper rested on the table beside him, just out of his reach. From what little he could see, it looked like someone had hand-written his name on the top. So the note couldn't have come from the Headmistress, then, could it? "Yeah ... I-I guess..." he agreed. Turning his head back and shifting slightly, Kisho scrunched his face in pain as he settled into a hopefully more comfortable position. He knew it was stupid to try and move around even a little, but his body had apparently been so still for so long that it needed to move. |
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8:59 PM Jul 10