The Infirmary

A sly, somewhat seductive, smile was on her face when he looked down at her. Had it worked then? Well, from the way the speed of his step increased; she could only imagine that this was good, that he was rushing so they could be alone together. Once seeing Isamu in the infirmary, her expectations dropped and she felt a twinge of anger. It felt like that frail twerp was intruding, almost - surely, there had to be some other place to keep him. Maybe a cramped storeroom or..a chair and a noose or...a guillotine or... the images in her head at that point became progressively more violent and with them, the anger kept burning in her. Until he drew the curtain, that was.

Tawny's attention was immediately recaptured.. but, why was she on her back? She didn't exactly peg him as a /back entrance/ kind of guy but if that's how they were going to play then she was for it. "You can skip the pain pills if it's too much trouble, it's all dead anyway." Well, sort of. After all, she did aggravate the situation of her wound a bit with her nails but.. that was all water under the bridge, or.. blood on the street. Something like that.

Tarik pulled her blouse off and on her back were scars - or just one scar, to be specific. One long scar that ran from the top of her right shoulder (where she'd just been struck) to her lower back on the left, she wasn't too prepared to talk about it but for him, she would. "What's your name, flyboy?" She asked this and simultaneously stretched her hand back to unclasp the catch of her bra. While she normally enjoyed the squeeze it provided (a mark on her back, showing the tightness of it would be visible), it just wasn't necessary for what they were going to do. At least, so she assumed.

The 'operation' went as it should've although Tarik, being unaware of her race, didn't know how unnecessary it really was (although she would've welcomed the pain of the slow, torturous skin graft). Tawny felt flattered though and it only made him seem more and more attractive. At the thought of him being near finished, she mused to herself, 'Good.. finally.'

Now in an upright position, she let her black, lace bra fall and revealed herself to him. Now they could get to bed.
Also notable on her chest were two scars; a horizontal one at the base of her neck and another horizontal one just above her navel.

Tarik just stared at her. "Tarik," he replied simply. Being a medic, he had seen many things, but this... this took the top of his list for most unusual encounter for sure. Never before, in Tarik's life had he come across such a person as this one. For one, she was blunt, and for two, she was just very... into him. They had just met and so Tarik wondered how on Earth she could feel this way so soon. Of course, not everyone felt as though they needed to be in love to... er... do "things." But he wasn't about to even begin discussing his personal morals with this freaky stranger.

He simply shook his head and wandered away from the bed. He walked over to his desk and took a key out of his pocket then unlocked the drawer. Tarik then pulled the leather bound book out from inside his jacket, placed it in the drawer, slid it shut, then locked it again and placed the key back into his pocket. After finishing this task he opened the closet door and pulled a medical gown and a soft fluffy robe off of one of the shelves.

Tarik then returned to Tawny's side and held the items of clothing out to her, "Put these on."

"Now, here int he infirmary of Barlo Mansion we have rules. If ordered to stay in bed then you must stay. You may talk and interact with others, just be aware that not everyone is feeling well so quit voices are necessary. Also, there is to be no resident and worker relations. Friendships and professional interactions only. Understood?"

Tarik.. Tarik, Tarik, Tarik. It was simple, two syllables.. but it was also unique; it wasn't the usual Tom or Ted.. or Theodore, ew. What's more was that they shared the same letter~! Tawny and Tarik. She definitely liked that already as childish as it was. When he came to her with the medical gowns, she took that opportunity to introduce herself. Tawny took the gown from him and placed it on the bed; her small hand then reached out to his and placed it on her bosom. She moaned, her grip tightening on his arm as she expected that (based on the way he'd been acting) he would try to pull away - her grip was.. unnaturally strong for someone who'd just been in an accident as she claimed.

The Coronai took the opportunity to introduce herself, "I'm Tawny and it's very nice to meet you, Tarik." Her tongue ran over her lips slowly and she added, "What if I'm not a resident? You were the one eager to get me all alone, after all." Granted she was in the vicinity of Barlo Mansion when her "incident" occurred, she knew she was right - there was no actual way that she was an intended resident, aside from the fact that something seemed to be wrong with her mentally. Or maybe, she was completely fine mentally and it was everyone else that needed to be locked away. Now /that/ seemed entirely more likely.

The one thing she overlooked and possibly Tarik's only way out was the frail kid just outside the curtained-off area. But, he couldn't do anything, right ?

As Isamu sat in his bed the bird foot print tattoo on the bottom of his wrist began to itch and sting. He cursed to himself as he scratched at it, but the pain would not cease. From many past experiences, the frail young man knew this to be Sir and Lady Saiforro's way of calling him forth. As reluctant as he was, he knew that if he did not obey their orders, then bad things would happen. So, he very quietly got out of bed and slowly walked over to the door. He was hunched over in pain as he opened the infirmary door and slid through.

Tarik narrowed his eyes and glared down at tawny with a stern expression on his face. Her grip was strong, but he pulled back anyway, trying hard to take his hand away from her chest. He was still quite disgusted by how blunt she was and open to a physical relationship she was. "Resident or not," get dressed now.

He then turned and went to his desk. Tarik sat in the spinney chair and pulled out some paperwork, then began filling it out. He hated filling out accident reports, they were very lengthy and took up quite a bit of time. he was so busy in fact, that he didn't even notice that Isamu had left.

Ordinarily, anyone in her grip would practically have to tear the arm off in order to be free from her but it felt like something inside her began to crumple at that very moment. Her expectations, her desires.. were they all in vain? Why was it that no one really wanted to be around her? She wasn't bad looking, was she? Scarred, maybe.. but everyone had scars, some were inside and, in her case, some were outside. The way he acted though - it was as if he was repulsed by her; other guys would be throwing themselves over her but not him. He was different.

She looked down, suddenly chastened, and covered her exposed chest then pulled the gown over her body. Geez, what had she been thinking? Tawny got to her feet and winced from the sting of the recovering wound; it was patched up, maybe, but there was still a lingering pain.. and somehow, she didn't quite enjoy it this time. The Coronai approached his desk apprehensively, keeping her gaze downward. "Sorry..I.." Tawny sighed, "I don't know what came over me." She clenched her fist, letting her nails dig into soft flesh, "You must think I'm a freak."

Maybe.. sometime.. in a different world..in a different life, she'd have her chance to make it up to her flyboy.

Tarik lifted his hand from the paper and pushed the bangs out of his eyes before continuing to work on the report. Even though he was busy writing down details he couldn't help think about Tawny, considering the accident report featured her anyway. He wondered if she was always so... blunt, or maybe if she just acted like that when she was nervous. But honestly, who acted like that when nervous? She would be the first. In all Tarik's life he had never met someone so blunt. Sure, he had met people who were more open about their sexuality than others, but Tawny was the first of her kind.

When the woman came over to appologize he did not even look up from his paper. The emotions in her appology made him cringe. It was quite possible that he had been too hard on her. But, well, no means no! Didn't it?

Wait. What?

Tarik was starting to doubt himself. He had told Tawny no, and had been quite confident with himself that he didn't want anything from her. But for some reason he couldn't help but feel as though he actually did wan't something from her. Perhaps, he even wanted what she was trying to get....

No. That was not possible.

Tarik already had his heart set on a young woman, though distance did separate them... perhaps he should appologize to Tawny.

"Ma'am... my apologies... I think I have been too harsh on you. I do not think your a freak... but... please respect my request for personal space."

Tawny kept her hand on her arm and after what seemed like an eternity - he responded, or maybe the time that elapsed worked differently in her head and stretched out further than it actually was due to the gravity of the situation. She was immediately enthused to hear that things were not irreparable, the thought of that would've pushed her further into despair; she didn't smile though, there was still some reservation in his speech that gave her the impression that he still had doubts about her, about her sanity.

Why did she always screw up when she met a nice guy like him? It was those damn thoughts and feelings that made her feel like an abomination - like she'd forever be condemned to wander the world alone. It was likely the reason she lashed out at him the way she did. The Coronai couldn't help the fact that she.. for some reason enjoyed being in pain or liked to see others share in her sentiment. She didn't want to change herself either but she couldn't identify with other creatures who spent hundreds of years without any company and somehow managed to maintain their sanity - vampires were chief on that list, or the proper ones were anyway, not the sparkly Hollywood rip-offs.

She pressed her lips together briefly then placed her hands on his desk and almost pleaded with him, "I'll do anything."

Sh*t. Wrong choice of words.

Just as quickly, she pulled her hands away, averted her gaze and sighed softly. What was wrong with her..? What was causing her to be such an emotional wreck now, of all times?

Tarik stared at the wall for a moment before looking at her and letting out a sigh."You'll do anything for what? Why do you wan't to be with em so much? Are you lonely?' He could identify with taht. Tarik's heart was broken. He was incredibly homesick and far away from the people he cared about the most. He wished he could have some time off to go back up the mountains and visit with them for a while. Especially his love-interest.

But that would be impossible.

The Saiforro's would never give him any time off. He felt as though he would never be able to leave the mansion again. He had no clue as to why he felt this way, but perhaps it something to do with what he had read in that book? Did the Saiforro's cast some kind of spell or curse on the mansion, that would prevent anyone from leaving. Ever? He would die if that happened. Eventually heart-break would get him, or so he thought. he was just being an over-emotional little wimp. All Tarik really needed was a distraction. But would that be fair to the others around him? Would that even be fair to himself? Not really.

"Just be patient with me, please... im not very happy right now," he mumbled quietly. Tarik hoped to heaven's that he didn't sound like some little emo kid that never liked anything about their lives. He certainly had many things to be happy about, he was just incredibly home sick at the moment.

The previous night, after the awkward and abrupt end to their conversation, Tawny tried to sleep but no rest came to her. For the first time in her existence, she felt remorse and she couldn't stand it- the emotional pain wasn't something she enjoyed. To remedy this, she left her bed and went to the infirmary bathroom -ensuring Tarik didn't see her in the process; her reflection in the mirror stared back at her with the same dark gaze which she administered to everything. Unreadable. Emotion-free. Clinical.

With these traits, it was open to the viewer to interpret what they were able to and Tawny only saw an accusing glare from the woman in the mirror. It was horrible. It was horrible.. It was HORRIBLE.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed suddenly and raising her right arm a little behind her then, she brought it down just before the mirror. There was a crash and in her hand was a scythe; with the black handle sleek and long, perhaps as tall as she was; the metallic blade glinted dangerously as though crying for the spill of blood. Tawny's eyes ran over the shards of glass then over to the blade in her hand - her distorted reflection remained on the blade and given the stature of the weapon it perfectly reflected her neck. Maybe..a little nick wouldn't hurt..

Tawny turned the scythe so that the pointed tip pressed lightly against her neck and then.. she pushed it away from her. Tarik. What if he came in and saw her like this..?

No.. it would be unacceptable. Running quietly out the bathroom, she looked to his desk and.. saw him missing. Where did her Flyboy run off to? Had something happened? "H-Hello?" She called out in a soft voice, very much contrasting the prior volume. No response.

Taking in a breath, the girl nodded. She'd just have to find him herself.

Tawny bit her lip and peered into the Infirmary bathroom, the glass from the shattered mirror was still strewn about the tiled floor and her scythe was still there. She stared curiously at the weapon, the blade still glinted brightly and strangely only reflected the hollow of her neck. No. Not now. Now, she'd ensure Tarik's safety - afterall, she had to prove herself to him, whether it started as friendship or bodyguard she was determined to be there for him.

She extended her arm and the weapon levitated on its own. It spun in the air once before flying straight toward her, blade-first; she ducked a little to the left and caught it at the handle, it'd barely missed her. A bastard scythe is what it was and selfish too. Slowly, Tawny ran her pale fingers over the long handle and made comforting noises as though talking to a child, "Shh, shh, shh. You get me what I want and I'll get you what you want." On its own, the blade flew from her hand and spun in the air, getting increasingly smaller till it vanished from sight. A sigh passed her lips then, demons were so hard to appease.. even if you were one yourself.

>>>Exiting the Infirmary>>>