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[atrb=background,http://i1223.photobucket.com/albums/dd509/i1vet2b/Maevemiddle_zps11350363.jpg] Thoughts. "Speech" The murmuring of voices was far off. She had a feeling they were rather loud, but her mind chose to hear them as if through cotton. With eyelids too heavy to even consider opening,she focused on breathing. Even that was difficult. It may have brought panic were it not for the drug filtering through her system and numbing every nociceptor she had. There was no burn in her lungs telling her to try harder. Dimly, she felt some device being fashioned over her mouth and nose. Maeve didn't care for the suffocating feeling it created. Her brain demanded her hands rise to pull it away, but they were weak as day old kittens and lay useless at her side. The water dragon felt something at the crook of her arm just at the inside of her elbow. Despite the blissful lack of pain elsewhere, the needle sitting there kindly filling her blood with drugs meant to help felt too large and present. From her mouth came a weak groan. There were questions asked while her vitals were checked again. Someone kept lifting her eyelids, though the light was too bright for her to see much of anything. The sensation of being lifted into the air had her stiffening until she felt a strong canvas at her back. It wasn't long until that lifting feeling happened again, but it felt more steady this time. Less urgent. She was in motion. Those surrounding voices weren't much comfort in this strange world of numbness. The blare of sirens as doors were opened had the teacher whimpering softly. It was too loud. Strange that they would come through clear as day when vital words were but whispers far removed. Even through her closed eyes, the twirling red lights bled through. Like a flickering fire, she imagined the world engulfed in flames. Like the safe house. Explosions and fire. Loss of life. And that snake after her in pursuit. A true snake replaced the first, twisting itself around her middle and striking at her shoulder. She felt the burn then as her fast metabolism began to burn through the drugs at a rapid pace. Maeve's eyes flashed open as a scream was ripped from her throat. Liquid fire pulsed inside her. Each breath was agony - it was the difficulty she'd sensed earlier. Just north of her hip was a wound that burned worse than any she'd known. The same fire raged along her shoulder. Any movement to try and ease the pain only caused more, causing the woman's face to merely constrict in pain. The voices were no longer enveloped in cotton. They were louder even than the sirens blaring just over her head as the gurney was shoved into the back of an ambulance. Her agonized cries brought forth a flurry of movement from a team of medical professionals. More drugs were pumped into her system. It felt as if a bag were being placed over her head and with it came the numbness once more. Tears threatened at her eyes even as darkness took over. ~~~~~~~ She woke several times. Once had been in the middle of surgery to remove the bullets: a shock to both herself and the doctors who'd already had her pumped up on more than double the recommended dosage for humans. They were just starting to get the inkling that their patient wasn't human when she woke again. There was almost a bit of panic in the voice of her surgeon as he demanded more drugs. How much was swimming in her, she wondered, even as she tried to keep her Beast at bay. The longer she could keep calm, the less likely the dragon would try to resurface without Maeve's permission. The next time she woke, Maeve was in a clean white bed that was hard as a brick. Were people honestly supposed to recover in something so unkind to the spine? It had been the beeping of machines that woke her, though no one came rushing to check on them. Maeve wondered if they'd been going off like that the entire time. It certainly would be cause for jaded nurses. Air wheezed through her mouth when she tried to take a deep breath. The bullets were removed, but obviously there was little to be done for her broken ribs save for pain killers with too little effect on one such as her. She lay there quietly, her mind beginning to circle back to why she was here. Her memory snapped in place and panic set in. Kriton? Surely he wouldn't be so careless as to let her escape when she was dead to rights. While she couldn't dream of why someone else would wish her harm, Maeve had another horrifying thought. Where is Barton? Was he okay? Alive, even? A nurse passed by, her eyes moving into the darkened room as if to check. They widened when the saw Maeve's open and bright on her own. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were awake!" the older woman murmured, bustling into the room with concern. "You really shouldn't be awake by now. How are you feeling?" Honestly, she felt like death. But that wasn't what mattered at the moment. "My dog." Her voice sounded frail and pitiful. Maeve winced, but there was nothing for it. "My dog was with me. Hurt." The nurse nodded her understanding immediately, giving the dragon a kind smile. "Yes, I've heard a lot about him! He's in your surgeon's office recovering from his gunshot. It sounds like the pair of your went through quite the ordeal. Rest, easy, love. He is safe. Do you need anything? If not, I'm going to let Dr. Martin know you're awake and he'll be in shortly." Maeve shook her head, too relieved to hear of Barton's safety to care about much else. Even normal cautions she would take considering Kriton could very well have been behind this attack didn't concern her. Of course, it could be the remnants of the drugs that kept her mind from keeping up to par on such things. When the nurse left, the dragon lay her head back on the flat pillow. Her eyes closed of their own accord, though she wouldn't argue. Feeling far too exhausted to do anything but lay there, Maeve tried to run through the attack again. Really, she could find no sense for it if it weren't an order by Kriton. Even if it had been, it still didn't fit right. Kriton was human... Wasn't he? Rather than think on that frightening avenue, she then attempted to do as the nurse bid and rest. Words: 1108 Notes: For all the loved ones or whoever wants to visit~ ;w; Muse: Gewd~ Tune: Lindsey Sterling Tag: Open

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/4sbgoj.png] ** It was safe to say that Chandler had been in a panic when Maeve didn't return home during the evening, thus out of fear of abandonment the boy had called her cell phone, only for it not to be picked up, even on the twelfth attempt, his heart battering against his chest as he felt Tabitha place a creamy paw on his knee for comfort. One of his thumbs slowly traced over the fur as a frown crossed his guise, lashes skimming against his skin as he closed his eyes, taking in some ragged breaths, assuring himself that she was just running late because of some serious traffic. Though as the hours ticked on by even the soldier started to doubt himself as he nibbled on his lower lip, bruising the sensitive flesh and even causing a droplet of blood to surface, something quickly swiped away by his wrist. Though at least the pain reminded him that he was alive, sort of, and he pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat on the couch just staring out the darkening window, pale blue eyes containing traces of horror as his mind reeled through all sorts of possible scenarios. His chest started to constrict as visions of bleeding corpses, his close friends, and exploding sand, mangled with bullets and bombs, raged through, his hands lifting to clench at his skull, not understanding why they were coming at this moment, as if to taunt him that he would be returning soon, without ever getting to see Maeve again. ** 'No Chandler, she's fine, she's completely fine. She has her gun… right?' With that in mind the boy started tearing through the house like some sort of tornado, his Pit Bull at his heels as she sniffed at the wooden paneling of the floor as her master checked every spot where he knew the firearms were located, letting out a rippling sigh of relief when he saw that at least one of the pistols were missing. The incessant panicking was unhindered as he thought, 'But what if she left it in her bag? Or on her desk?' A shaky hand drove through his hair as the quiet house creaked on its foundation something that made him feel as if the walls were constricting him, driving him to a corner as he slid down, breathing in little gasps as Tabitha whined, walking in circles as she tried to find out what was wrong, nudging herself beneath his hand. He pet the curve of her head gently and it did indeed help him to calm down, though his brain jump started into survival mode when the phone rang loudly, piercing the silence as he reached underneath his shirt for the holster that held his gun, finger trained on the trigger as he pointed at the end of the dark hallway. A moist tongue licked his dry lips as he stood up and continued to slowly shuffle his way downstairs, barely making it in time to pick the phone up on the last ring, though once he heard the message he was glad he hadn't lost this chance. ** 'Is this Chandler?' The feminine voice made him shudder with how morbid it sounded, and the boy was barely able to mutter out an affirmative, “Yes ma'am.” Even with this pressure surrounding him the soldier didn't lose his awkward politeness, instead listening to the message the lady was relaying to him, 'I'm one of Ms. Murrough's coworkers at the school and I wasn't sure if anyone told you about what happened. She, um, she was sent to the hospital after another attack on school grounds, currently she's at the Healing Hearts Hospital on Sweet Lake Road, next to a Starbucks. Can you drive?' Chandler just stood there, staring at the homing point of the phone, the slight trickle of rain outside cliché as it provided some ambiance, though all he felt was something hollow enveloping him as he heard the other staff ask worriedly, 'Hello?' Just the sound of a girl's voice broke the restraint that he held at keeping those watery tears, one single stream trailing over his cheek, hot and unwelcome, this was such a rare emotion for him. He rarely cried, considering he had done so much of it as an orphaned child, and he had thought that he had run out of tears as he grew, that the reserves had run dry with the knowledge of the cold world they were witness to, his heart encased in ice. ** He thought he wouldn't ever cry again, because of the lack of someone to care for, but with this salty tear he knew that that was no longer true, and as he used the back of his hand to wipe it away, he just let go of the phone, as if everything were going in slow motion, not hearing the murmured whispers of the woman on the other line trying to talk to him. His instincts were in control now and he had to find the brunette, shoving his way out the door and slamming it shut before Tabitha could come along, the last he saw of her being her blocky head peeking through the curtains with wide icy eyes. Shoes slapped furiously against the slick pavement of the roads, ignoring the blaring of some car horns as he ran smack in front of them, nearly getting hit once or twice, though everything was blank in his mind, there was only him and the path to the hospital. He passed by a drug dealer trying to catch his attention to buy some baggies of cocaine, but it went unnoticed, the rain pelting his face like miniature bullets, gleaming head lights blinding him. There it was, the Starbucks next to the hospital, the powerful aroma of coffee making him wrinkle his nose, skidding the curb as he crossed through the grassy lawn of the building, nearly plowing through an elderly woman and her teenage granddaughter as they traveled towards the vending machine in the lobby. ** All eyes were on the ghost as he thudded into the desk of the receptionist, mainly due to the flushed face and soaked clothes, his tears mingling with the rain droplets, and he was sort of glad, he could always blame it on nature. The woman gently set the phone down, staring up at the boy as she asked gently, “Are you alright, sweetheart?” Panic. Panic. Panic. That was all that Chandler could register as he fumbled over his words, fingers clenching on the edge of the desk, turning a pasty white as he asked, no, begged, “Maeve Murrough, please, where is she?” The kind nurse nibbled on her nail as she shook her head, typing through the computer as she found the room yet sadly told him, “Honey, I'm afraid I can't let just anyone through. What's your relation to her?” His stomach sunk down, but for only a second as he told her with such determination and honesty in his voice that it was more like ice piercing through a corpse's heart, “She's my mother.” He had never found anyone to truly call them that, but now he realized that it was the reality now, she wasn't just someone who took him in as a student and teacher relationship, no, she was his loving parent and they had their strong bond, relying on one another just like they did oxygen. So with a bit more force he leaned forward as the water dripped from his wet hair, “I need to see my mother. Now.” The nurse was just sitting there shocked, as if trying to make sense of this situation, an eighteen year old male saying that the thirty year old was his parent and while she wanted to question him as to this, she could only see the hurt in his eyes, to which she murmured out, “Room 220, dear.” ** With this new information the ghost didn't hold back, scrambling towards the elevators with a call of thanks, jabbing his finger against the button, frustrated when it didn't glow, though with this anger the lights in the hallway began to flicker as the soldier became slightly transparent, leaning on the doors of the closed elevator as he pressed a hand to his head, suddenly feeling nauseous as one of the lamp bulbs shattered, sparks flying. Of course this was a supernatural phenomenon, the lack of control over his inner powers since he didn't even know he was dead, but as he heard that light ding, he stumbled his way into the empty elevator, taking in a deep breath to try and calm himself down, never looking at his hands to perhaps see that he could see the floor through them. Though maybe it was for the better, for once it had reached the second floor he was solid again, yet paler than usual, blue eyes scanning over the numbers to the rooms, almost colliding with the doctor leaving Maeve's room as the door opened, the medical staff barely choking out, “Hello?” Chandler just ignored him as he shoved through, seeing the teacher on the bed, not sure if she was awake or not, she seemed to be floating in and out of consciousness and it was as if the boy could only hear the beeping of the machines and the soft intakes of breath she made, bumbling his way over to the chair near her bedside. ** He slowly sat down with a state akin to shock, just taking in her injured appearance, scared to even touch her, but he had to, to make sure he wasn't imagining things, that she was still alive, that she wouldn't leave him behind. Taking her hand in his own, clasping that single appendage in between his both, he didn't want to let go, and he let his head hang low as he shook lightly, a little movement now and then, but he was mostly a statue, stabbing himself on the inside. He had failed Maeve, he should have stayed with her that day, kept her company and maybe the attacker wouldn't have risked it, for two people would mean more trouble, not in terms of a fight perhaps, but at least for the noise levels and exposure of his presence. It was as if biting his lip was now a habit, for the teen tore softly at the skin on his lip, eyes downcast as he murmured out, almost lost in the air, “I'm sorry.” It was a simple statement, but contained so much feeling behind it as he ranted at himself on the inside, beating and furious, 'You betrayed her, left her, abandoned her. That's not what family does, they stick together and protect one another, but you failed her. There is only one path to redemption, do not leave her again.' He was pained by his inner musings, though he did agree with that proposal, and as he moved one thumb over the tanned flesh of the woman's, he whispered, “Never again.” Amount: 1,842 Words. Notes: ;W; The feels. My heart is torn ;3; Okay this is mostly shit rambling, but I couldn't help it </3 Muse: AMAZING. Tune: Here Without You ~ Three Doors Down Tags: Vettie with Maeve; OPEN;

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[atrb=background,http://i1223.photobucket.com/albums/dd509/i1vet2b/Maevemiddle_zps11350363.jpg] Thoughts. "Speech" The hustle and bustle of people in and out of the room was causing clinical signs of distress in Maeve. And the more she stressed, the more hustle and bustle there was going in and out. It was a vicious cycle that left her head spinning whenever she dared open her eyes. As consciousness was fleeting, the water dragon found herself yearning for it more and more. She wanted to know every move they made, what they were doing, why they were there. Of course, to treat her injuries. But were they all doctors? All nurses and people of respectable intentions? She felt certain Kriton was lurking. Waiting for his chance. Even a vivid dream had her convinced of it so powerfully that she’d been drugged despite her arguments. ’To ease the pain,’ they’d said. She’d been certain they were signing her death warrant. Unaware and limp as a newborn kitten, she’d be no issue at all for the man who’d been hunting her since she was a teenager. How many hours had passed? Had to be hours. While being drugged made hazy the passage of time, Maeve knew she’d been still too long. Didn’t they understand he would find her? He’d already had a goon attack Any argument she’d told herself before that explained away it being the man’s doing had been forgotten in the haze of drugs. The python shifter had seen her fall. Seen the damage he’d caused. It would be little issue for a man of such connections as Kriton Volkov to come visit his ‘baby sister’ and pay his respects after killing her. He was devious. How was she to know those drugs they were pumping into her were even what they thought? He could switch them. Change up the vials without them knowing. It only took a careless moment of not double checking the drug for a fatal mistake to be made. The pain wasn’t only responsible for the paranoia. She’d had a lifetime of running. Though she’d finally settled down and trusted she was in the clear, no matter how many times she told herself that, Maeve couldn’t make herself believe it. She wanted her gun. Wanted the cold feel of it in her palm. Needed that comfort, that peace of mind that she could protect herself should Kriton find his way past the hospital security and staff. She wanted Barton, too. Wanted to see him safe and sound. And Chandler? What if that bastard had gone for her son first? And when had she started to think of him like that? Her son. It brought a warm feeling of love in her heart, followed closely by mind-numbing panic. Where was he? Was he safe? Had her call gone through to Sebastian? Another doctor. He was checking her bandages. She was distantly aware of him lifting thin white sheets, peeling them back before looking to be certain his handiwork was holding up. Surgery? Had she already had it? Maeve couldn’t remember. Everything seemed so foggy. They were using more drugs now. Had to be. With the normal dosage, she’d at least been able to think straight. Feeling the sheets being replaced over her prone form and a cold hand going to her forehead, she gave a mild flinch. Her eyelids fluttered, straining to open. The doctor’s voice sounded far off, but gentle. Comforting. Lulling. ”Ms. Murrough. Maeve? Can you hear me?” Why was he so quiet? As her eyelids felt far too heavy to lift, she made a small noise in the back of her throat. It was something between a whimper and a groan, but meant to convey her assent. ”Ms. Murrough, you’ve been shot multiple times. Are you in any pain?” Pain? Was anyone supposed to feel pain in this fog? Even thinking about responding was too much effort. Taking the non-answer as proof enough that he should lower the drug dosing, she felt the doctor move around to the other side of the bed where no doubt a stand was which held the fluids draining into her veins through that damnable needle she became hyper-aware of once more. She flinched ever so subtly again when his cold hands went to her wrist to check her pulse. Maeve’s breathing began to pick up as her body started fighting through the drug-haze. ”Ms. Murrough.” That voice again. This time, her eyes obeyed the command to open, though it was a slower process than she’d expected. ”There you are.” She heard, rather than saw, the smile. ”How are you feeling?” he asked, exhibiting marvelous bedside manner that was quite rare to come across in doctors. Her throat felt dry and she swallowed in an effort to ease the scratchiness. ”Where’s Barton?” she asked. ”My dog,” she clarified when she saw his expression of confusion. She knew she’d asked the nurse the same before and she’d said he was okay, but she needed to see him now. Right now. ”Would you like me to go get him?” he asked kindly. He stood to do so when she gave a tired nod. In a moment’s notice, her eyes closed again. The pain was just starting to peek through with the lower dosing of drugs – not that she’d complain. She preferred being able to feel. Along with feeling came more awareness. There was a confused hello for her doctor before a small moment of scuffle. Was this it? Kriton? Panic thrummed in her chest, though she was too weak to do anything about it. No. Couldn’t be. She felt the newcomer sit at her side for a moment before taking her hand in theirs. His. Chandler. She’d know that touch anywhere. He was trembling. His hand was too cold – colder than the doctor’s – and she could hear the hitch in his breathing. The doctor seemed to be resigned to the fact that the boy belonged and hurried on to fetch the dog. Maeve opened her eyes when her son apologized. The words had been so heart-felt and agonized, that she couldn’t help but hope to see what on earth he could be so sorry about. But his head was down, eyes cast away. His thumb moved gently against her skin and she found herself starting to smile. She wanted to hug him so hard, he’d never have need for that face again. She tightened her hand around his, a tear escaping down her cheek as she looked at his heartbroken face. ”I love you,” she murmured. A mother to her son, the best thing to have right now was him at her side. ”Don’t apologize.” Words: 1099 Notes: The feels. ;w; Muse: Gewd~ Tune: None Tag: Open

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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/4sbgoj.png] ** Chandler was squeezing his eyes shut now, not daring to even look at the floor, for it would only make him imagine a soft lawn just like the one in front of their house, or maybe the beach, the times they had gone as a family with their beloved pets, a sinking feeling skimming over his stomach as he wondered where Barton was. He never left Maeve's side, and he wondered if the mutt had survived the attack, for while he was a pansy, he was loyal, and would have at least tried to defend her, right? Oh no, what if he had gotten shot in the process? The ghost was making a nasty habit of tearing at his bottom lip now and he could swear that there would be permanent scarring or something if he kept his up every day, hm, maybe he would mess with his hair instead, no, no, a torn lip was definitely better than having a random bald spot. This sudden dawning of such a random subject had him opening his pale blue eyes with confusion, brows knitting together as he let out a grunt, thinking of the severity of each and what would have its consequences, so distracted that one would assume he was pondering the meaning of life. Though what would he know about that subject? He had never really lived truthfully, at least until this year, this wondrous school year where he had met Maeve, Row, and Tria, they were all special to him, and until that point all he ever had was Tabitha, his poor gruff baby. ** Right as he was smiling slightly at the thought of his dog, it was flashed away with guilt when he felt the woman's hand move around in his, no doubt from her body shifting during her bout of unconsciousness, starting to bite at his lip again, wanting to say more to her yet no words able to fall from his mouth. But when he felt his mother's hands tightening around his own, he felt his breath hitch as he turned his gaze up to look at her watery ones, and he couldn't help but feel that unfamiliar stinging sensation in his eyes as he gave her a wobbly smile. He wanted to tackle her in an embrace or something, but that wouldn't be the best of ideas, seeing as how fragile she was at the moment along with the fact that he wasn't the smallest boy around, he definitely would leave her like a pancake. Though the small smile that was lining his lips was wiped away with her words, and his heart felt as if it stopped, the tears not held back anymore as they came down in a steady stream, that simple sentence meant so much to him, and never had he been more confident to say, “I love you too.” He pressed the back of her hand against his forehead as he leaned closer, the most contact he could get right now and he was thankful for that, for it was something. ** He wanted to stop crying but he couldn't, and it felt so weird for the soldier as she told him to not apologize, a slight chuckle leaving that sore throat as he managed to rasp out, “B-But…” Though he couldn't finish it anymore as he just knew he would obey her statement, but that didn't mean he couldn't make a promise to her, wrapping his fingers tighter around her own as he murmured out, “They'll never get to you again, I promise.” If he even saw one, just one, person look at Maeve the wrong way ever again, he wouldn't even care of they were the governor, they would have the barrel of his gun shoved down their throat, for he wasn't going to risk her life ever again. Everyone needed to know not to mess with her, even if she could protect herself in a way, but that just wasn't going through his thick skull, barely adding in a whisper that was nearly unheard to his own ears, “They won't see another day.” Usually the ghost had always felt guilty during the war, killing all these other soldiers, some of them in the same position as he had been, only joining for support to survive, but at this moment his eyes were cold, that of what the generals had attempted to turn him into, their pawn, though obviously they didn't understand that everyone had their own trigger. And Chandler had finally found his own, his mother. Amount: 758 Words. Notes: alsnfksndg</3 Muse: Really good ;^; Tune: Otherside ~ Macklemore Tags: Vettie with Maeve; OPEN;

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[atrb=background,http://i1223.photobucket.com/albums/dd509/i1vet2b/Maevemiddle_zps11350363.jpg] Thoughts. "Speech" It was an odd feeling, Maeve thought, to feel safe. For the better part of her life, she’d been running and hiding and fearing for her life. It was an awful way to live, and if she were honest, no way to live at all. When fear was a major component of one’s life, it made a lot of things hard to do. To enjoy. The past few months in this town of strangeness and odd welcoming, Maeve had found a place for the fear to recede. A place where every waking moment of her life wasn’t spent looking over her shoulder and wondering who was watching. A place where she was able to find a home. A place to belong. Someone to love and care for as she hadn’t been loved and cared for. Chandler, the sweet, kind, warm-hearted boy that she’d taken into her home against all her habits and rules had become so thoroughly integrated into her life that it seemed completely natural for him to be here at her side when otherwise she’d have no one. His smile had her own growing and Maeve wondered if it was possible for a heart to burst with love. Though she wasn’t all that much older than him, she certainly felt as if she’d stepped into that mother role and he the role of son so flawlessly. The pair alone were socially awkward and stumbling, either not having enough experience or avoiding it completely. Together, they had found an easy rhythm that took no effort, no sleight of hand, no faking. It just was, and what it was had become as close to perfect as Maeve believed possible. At the sight of his tears, she gingerly reached up to swipe them away for they didn’t belong on his face. He pulled her hand against his head in a form of embrace that was as close as possible for the moment as pain was starting to bleed through the drugs. Pain was preferred to that drug haze, but she didn’t want to incite the Beast. Though she had been finding a good balance with her dragon after the lessons with Katswiri and further lessons from Alejandro, she saw no reason to tempt an issue. Especially considering that an issue here would most certainly result in loss of life. For others. Chandler began reassuring her, and she could see he was taking this too hard. “They won’t get me,” she promised; a solemn vow. One she would not break. Could not. When his words took a darker turn, Maeve slowly shook her head. “You’ll do no such thing, Chandler.” While her body was weak, her voice was not. “It’s not in you to kill in cold blood.” She knew of his war efforts. They’d spoken, albeit briefly, of his time served. “This isn’t a war.” Maeve had an inkling of doubt on that last statement. It did feel like a war. One against the school. One without a clear purpose. Yet. It would come out. It always came out. However, her voice gave no hint of hesitation. “You are not responsible for what happened. I see it in your eyes, don’t take that upon yourself.”

[/b] With the drugs filtering faster now, it was easier to think. Harder to breathe, maybe, but easier to think. At this moment, that ability was critical, for he had to understand.

A slight commotion in the hallway had her pausing. When her doctor filled the doorway, Barton’s large head limping into view, she felt the tears sting at her eyes again. The Irish Wolfhound gave a pitiful whine before limping to Chandler and pressing himself up against the boy’s legs as much as possible while licking at Maeve’s hand.

“Really, he shouldn’t be in here. Procedures and all,” the doctor began. “However, he is incredibly well behaved and patients heal better with animals around them, so I overruled the rules for a day. Doctor’s orders.” The man gave a wink before stepping over to introduce himself to Chandler and catch him up on the results of her surgery. Maeve tried not to be annoyed that she wasn’t receiving those results herself, though she supposed she was expected to still be high on those pesky drugs.

No matter. She let her hand rest on Barton’s head and just breathed. It seemed like forever since she just breathed. It was nice. And underrated.


Words: 734
Notes: The feels. ;w;
Muse: Gewd~
Tune: None
Tag: Open
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[atrb=background,http://i43.tinypic.com/4sbgoj.png] ** The ghost's eyes were downcast when the woman's voice took on a stronger tune, scolding him lightly for such morbid thoughts, and he automatically felt ashamed for being so violent, albeit mentally, when he was in the presence of a victim and when he always thought how horrible it was that others killed innocents. While he was more than sure those disgusting men were nothing but evil, she was right, he wouldn't find it in him to just go up and murder them without momentary incentive. So he just bobbed his head at her last logical explanation, this was life, not a war, and he couldn't go around killing every bad guy out there, it would end up with his face plastered on the news as some rogue soldier being sent to jail for such crimes. He tried so hard to be strong, to solidify his light azure gaze, try to go against what she was telling him, that it wasn't his fault, though he failed, eyes breaking as he murmured, “Yeah, but…” He couldn't finish what he wanted to get out for he heard footsteps outside the door, the barrier opening up as the friendly doctor waltzed in with the limping Irish Wolfhound by his side, nails clicking against the flooring with an unsteady beat. A half-smile lined the boy's mouth as he held a hand out for the wiry-furred canine, the other lifting to greet the doctor in a handshake, instantly receiving the entire gist of what was going on with his mother. ** He took the advice from the medical man, nodding his head along with everything the professional was saying, all the while petting the dog soothingly, careful not to let his fingers wander towards the sensitive areas that had been wounded during the attack. Occasionally he glanced over at Maeve to make sure she was alright, watching her tenderly touch her pet, only to then thank the doctor when he finished up, starting to head towards the door to give them some privacy, and well, that was when Chandler's mind was startled. Out of seemingly nowhere there seemed to be a rather loud and accented voice echoing down the hospital's halls, coming towards them at a hurtling rate from outside, and as the doctor opened the door a tall, blonde man came dancing through. In his hands he held a basket of muffins and wore a charming smile, practically twirling around the medical worker, prancing over to the teacher's side, ignoring the questioning remarks of the 's caretaker. The soldier blinked in shock, only for it to be fueled by a mixture of anger and suspicion as he grated out, “Who are you? And what are you doing here?” He kept repeating calming mantras to himself, ignoring the rising fury, wondering if this was one of the men that had harmed his mother, fingers clutching around the armrest of the chair, other hand fleeting from Barton's fur, his normally calm demeanor definitely having been tested today. ** The bold Ecuadorian had heard of the poor woman's attack through the grapevine, starting out with the teachers around the school all the way to the students, and well, he had a pair of them practically visiting him every day, so the second he had heard the name he made it his plan to go visit the little peacock dragon he had so fondly adored since the second he met her. Muffins made everyone feel better so it had been on his to do list before he had been scampering down the halls, tune in his head that just wouldn't come out, and as he shouldered past some nurses with an apologetic wink, he burst through the correct room, nearly barreling through the lean doctor who let out a grunt. His golden eyes did not focus on him or the boy, just going to the empty side of the bed, setting the muffin basket down on the counter, hand leaning forward to pet her cocoa hair as he cooed, “Ay, mi princesa, are you doing alright? I heard about the attack, what a horrible thing.” He was about to keep babbling when a cold voice was directed at him, the sunny artist glancing up at the ghost, only to flick a hand in disinterest as he purred, “Alejandro, dear boy. A name you must never forget~” Amount: 726 Words. Notes: Sorry this took forever! Muse: Great c: Tune: N/A. Tags: Vettie with Maeve; OPEN;

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[atrb=background,http://i1223.photobucket.com/albums/dd509/i1vet2b/Maevemiddle_zps11350363.jpg] Thoughts. "Speech" Oh, talking had hurt. It had been worth it, however, to get her point across at that pivotal moment. It was true, things could usually be fixed if they were broken. But during some cases, there was only one chance to say the right thing in the right way. If that chance was missed, there was no going back and making it better. With a moment such as that, Maeve knew she couldn't let it pass by without saying something. She was relieved when Chandler didn't make to argue anymore, though it had likely been the doctor's entrance with Barton that had saved that drawn out discussion. Maeve started at the sound of a loud voice down the hall, her hand going to her side slyly beneath the thin to sheet in an attempt to hide the pain from Chandler. The boy had been through enough already with seeing her like this. Any knee-jerk suspicion vanished as soon as she saw the face to go along with those lilting tones. Large as life, Alejandro practically sashayed through the door with the confidence she herself had never had. Her eyes looked at a wicker basket he carried, thinking he looked very silly carrying it. The Earth dragon in Maeve's mind seemed to be far more suited carrying a broadsword than muffins. He gave her no time to greet her before setting the muffins aside and his hand stroked her hair tenderly. Before she could even respond to him, Chandler snapped out with fury. The words that had come from his mouth! She would have chided him had the boys given her a moment to catch her breath and say a word at all! Alejandro introduced himself, however, that confidence only serving to rile Chandler up more. Rather than let the two snarl over her and upset Barton, she lifted the hand of her uninjured shoulder to touch Ale's face and bring him down to her level for a sweet kiss on the forehead. "It's good to see you, Alejandro. I'm doing well enough," she assured. She took a breath. And another before looking at Chandler. "You shouldn't speak that way," she murmured, her voice not as strong as she wanted it to be. Each pull of breath from her lungs was a chore, her broken ribs constricting them in ways she never would have imagined. "He's a good friend. You can trust him," she assured. Words: 404 Notes: ffs, so short. ;3; Sorry Callie. Muse: Gewd~ Tune: None Tag: Open

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[atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/2m7wxv6.png] ** The ghost had most definitely gotten his feathers ruffled by that boisterous Ecuadorian who just thought it was fine to barge into a sickly woman's room, though he was slightly guilty at the fact that he had practically done the same not even an hour ago. The real victim here was Maeve yet it was like she was the mediator between them all, a gentle smile attempting to line his lips in apology as she scolded him. His hands folded tightly in his lap as he grated out politely, “Yes ma'am… I'm sorry, mister.” Though all the blonde did was wave a hand in disinterest, as if it didn't matter to him whether rudeness was thrown in his face or not, chiming, “Ah, no need, chico~ I was once young as well and was no better! I remember those days fondly, yes I do…” His golden eyes grew distant as he sighed, thinking of such an innocent world centuries ago, only to snap out of it quickly at the attacked maiden's voice. Despite the fact that he saw her dragon as a child, he knew she was anything but that, a grown woman capable of caring for herself, and even another soul, judging his senses to be correct that they had a tight bond, like family. Chandler in turn just burrowed himself against the chair, scratching right behind Barton's ear as he found comfort once more in the wiry fur, wanting to just take his mother home and leave this solemn hospital, no matter how friendly the doctor was. ** It just didn't feel right in here, and Alejandro sensed that as well, rubbing the back of his neck as he called out to the doctor who was attempting to give them some privacy, “How long until this fine young woman is able to be brought back to her rightful kingdom?~” He drove a hand through his thick hair, grinning out playfully in one of his charming smiles before adding along obliviously, “I miss seeing those peacock feathers, it has been quite a time since we have taken flight over the city, hm?” That was when the ghost leaned forward with inquisitiveness, murmuring, “Peacock feathers? Do you have another pet? But I've never seen one at home, or any feathers… Other than when Tabitha tries to eat those birds that hunt in the forest.” His bold Pit Bull crossed his mind once as he hoped she was doing alright, probably still curled up next to that window waiting for everyone to return home like the loyal mutt that she was. Though the teen didn't linger on that for very long, seeing as how his inner soldier wanted to be given every single tidbit of information, and if anything was being withheld, well, things wouldn't turn out as good as they originally were, especially when he had a set of puppy eyes ready to use at his disposal. When it came to the people that he cared about, Maeve being at the top, he really didn't try to get the words out through force, nope, just using his gentle expressions to his advantage. Amount: 521 Words. Notes: Gahhh, this sucks horribly, sorry my love ;w; <3 Muse: Meh x.x Tune: N/A. Tags: Vettie with Maeve; OPEN;

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[atrb=background,http://i1223.photobucket.com/albums/dd509/i1vet2b/Maevemiddle_zps11350363.jpg] Thoughts. "Speech" Maeve had to work to bite back the smile as Chandler apologized sheepishly. Months ago, he'd been a stranger: an unwelcome one at that! But all had been unwelcome, untrusted, and reason for her to be wary. It was funny how things could change no matter how hard one clung to the exact opposite. This boy, quickly becoming a young man before her eyes, brought an overwhelming feeling of love bubbling within. There was nothing she wouldn't do, she realized, to protect him. Alejandro and Chandler made amends, looking rather like two dogs coming to terms over a spot they both wanted to lay down in. She doubted either would appreciate the analogy and merely smiled silently. As pained as she was, Maeve felt surrounded by love. Barton always gave off such waves, for he adored any who pet him kindly. She and Chandler had bonded over their time together, but that Alejandro gave off such a vibe as well was of great interest to her. They'd not met but once or twice! What an impression she must have made. She thought back to that time, recalling being quite defensive and willing to attack a dragon far larger than herself. She'd still been wild then. Wild, untamed, uneducated. She was still a bit uneducated when it came to her heritage, but Maeve knew well enough how to be her dragon again rather than letting the Beast flail helplessly on her own. "A few more days, at the least," Maeve murmured in reply for the doctor who politely stepped out again after giving a nod of confirmation. Obviously stressed with the answer as there was no changing it, she looked up at Ale. The longer she was here...Kriton could find her. She tried to tell herself that if he hadn't by now, then he wouldn't ever again. But the nagging doubt chewed at the back of her mind like a constant worry. It was a wonder she hadn't developed an ulcer on top of all the rest! While Alejandro's mouth ran away with him, Maeve stiffened in defense, tears springing to her eyes as the sudden movement caused a sharp pain in her side. Her uninjured arm went to her side, pressing firmly to still the pain. Of course Chandler would pick up on it! "No, no other pets," she said quickly. "Alejandro has all manner of nicknames for me," she assured, looking at the older dragon almost pleadingly. He doesn't know, you fool, she tried to convey in her expression. Maeve didn't know how to tell him. Or when, even. By now, the school's cameras would have shown the headmaster and any investigators into the attack at the least. Her secret was out. At least to some of the staff - because rumor spread like wildfire at the school - she was no longer just a human. Others would overhear. But really...what was the harm in it? Was there any? Her father had ingrained a fear into her of being discovered, but here, she was surrounded by others like her. The look in Chandler's eyes was pure cruelty! She couldn't tell him! Not here! Maeve looked again to Alejandro. With her luck, the goofball would spill out all the details he knew without a thought! Words: 545 Notes: AMG, finally. ;3; Muse: Gewd~ Tune: None Tag: Open

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[atrb=background,http://i42.tinypic.com/2m7wxv6.png] ** Chandler was confused during the exchange between the two adults, noticing the struggled look on his mother's face while the strange man just kept on chuckling warmly and beaming, patting her head as if she didn't know what she was talking about. Blonde locks drifted to hang in front of the Hispanic's forehead from all the shaking his head was doing, toying with the ends of cocoa locks as he snorted, “That medicine must be messing with your mind, mi princesa~” But golden eyes eventually drifted to meet with eyes of darker molten qualities than he remembered, dramatic gasp passing his lips as he fawned over her, “Your eyes! What have those fools done to your beautiful eyes?” The man paced back and forth in a panic, resisting the urge to bite down harshly on his nails, the teenager in the seat tilting his head to the side before he gruffly responded, as if personally offended by the remark to Maeve's irises, “I think her eyes are still pretty, they're the same color from before you old coot!” A haughty chin was jutted in the air as a muscled chest puffed out, hands on his hips, Alejandro glaring at the student as he waggled a finger, about to put the ghost in his place when he felt the burning sensation at the side of his head, furrowing his brows before noticing the look she was giving him, staring rather dumbly until his oblivious mind pieced two and two together. Oh, so that's why she was trying to cover everything up! ** Ale flickered a hand to the side with a laugh, chirping upon sunny tones, “Oh, silly Ale, I'm thinking of the wrong girl. Rather hard to remember eye colors when you're constantly surrounded by women, hm? Ah, but you wouldn't know.” A flare of challenge rose in those aureate depths, only for paler ones to rouse at the same time, Chandler on edge as he held himself back from just blurting such private information out, instead returning his attention back to Maeve's sheets, grumbling, “I don't understand why mom hangs out with people like you.” The Ecuadorian let out a guttural noise of offense, jaw clenched as he just resisted the urge to keep prodding at the kid, he already seemed ruffled enough, dragging a seat over to the other side of the teacher's bed, the two males seeming to silently battle for her attention, Chandler with his gentle strokes along her hand and Alejandro with the sneaky braiding of a few locks of hair. But everything seemed to settle down otherwise, neither wanting to leave the maiden in the sole presence of the other, the soldier the first to drift off to sleep, head lowering down until it was propped on the edge of the bed, breathing nearly inaudible as the Hispanic watched over them. Without anyone to tease, he took on the aura of a guardian, his age more pronounced as he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, feeling the rougher skin of the scars, a flicker of a smile on his lips as he thought of a certain queen. Hm, a visit was definitely called for in the near future. Amount: 534 Words. Notes: Hurrrrr, should we end it here? c: <3 and lawl these two are like cat and dog xD Muse: Okay~ Tune: N/A. Tags: Vettie with Maeve; OPEN;