Wing City Hospital

Sana leaned her head against the side of the bed, weakly looking up to Vince. She tried to smile. "No. To all questions. Surprising, hm? I was hoping you would have answers."

Her eyes would tell Vince one thing: Get me out of here.

"But Hatchet's been keeping me awful good company."

The slender, eery, Hatchet had smiled greatly at Sana's illusive comment. He was no fool, when it came to people's opinion, and thoughts of his demeanor. How else would he be able to bend their will, if he could not realize this most notable factor? His eyebrows flicked up at Vince, and he retained his most polite grin. "I had to receive medical attention, myself." He lifted a hand to the bandage on his left shoulder. "And I recognized Sana, when they wheeled her in after a gun shot. She told me the same thing. She didn't remember who, or what caused her to be shot." He swung his arms afront of him, and perched one elbow in his palm, before sitting his chin atop his other hand; he began to stroke his jaw. "I'd be willing to help find out whatever might've caused this incident. Sana has aleways been an appreciated companion. I would hate to lose her."

Vince smiled to Hatchet again. "I wold appreciate it, but I'm afraid it was just another random lunatic on the road." He looked at Sana, "And you wouldn't be surprised that we already know who it is. So try not to worry about it too much, alright?"

He took Sana's hand, holding it gently in both of his. It looked like a friendly gesture, but it was more than that. He was transferring nanites through his skin into hers so that one, he could track her, and two, they would help her heal a little more quickly.

"Well, I'll be taking my leave. It was great meeting you, Hatchet. Continue to take care of Sana, will you?" He nodded and smiled, then walked toward the door.

Later. He had to come for her later.

"I'll make sure to do my best." Hatchet returned Vince's smile, and casually waived as he left. Now, he had her all to himself. Excellent. He immediately turned his attention to Sana. He followed up with a playful sigh. "What to do now? Hm?" A devious curl of his smooth, pale lips had answered that perfectly; he continued to stroke his jaw again.

Hatchet finally unfolded his arms, subsequently stretching his left arm out, over head of Sana's body. He began to wiggle his fingers, and as a spider creeping down from an invisible web, he let his hand ease down. Inch by inch, it lowered closer to Sana's stomach. He began to sing. It was a nursery rhyme. "The itsy bitsy spider, spun his web about..."

As soon as the nanites had entered her bloodstream, Sana squirmed, but let out a small sigh. She was thankful for, over all things, their ability to numb pain. Within minutes, they had collected at the wound, slowly repairing damaged tissue as well as releasing the numbing agent that did not muddle her brain like the fluid in the IV.

But her distress was far from over.

As Hatchet loomed over her, the heart rate meter began to speed up again. Her fingers dug into the bed. She lifted one hand to her wrist, ripping out the IV, then lifted another to catch Hatchet's wrist and hold it up.

"Watch. Yourself."

He did not tremble or stumble back. He simply shook his head with disappointment. "You need to work on that. No wonder you got shot. You're speed, is not... It's not fast." He glanced to the side, reflecting on the logic of that statement. "Try to focus on the target. Don't concern yourself with..." His wrist reluctantly manuevered in Sana's grasp as he pointed to the hand, which had formerly been stuck with the IV. "...other aspects." He chuckled. "You let yourself get quite distracted for a sniper."

There was a moment of pause. "Can I have my hand back, or do you like man-handling your partners?" A wry grin creeped over his lips.

Sana grit her teeth together, her hands shaking from anger and effort. She was far too weak for this. Far too much. Lack of blood and energy willed her to lay back down. Before she did, her grip tightened on his wrist, and she sat up, slipping her legs over the bed, her body close to Hatchet's. For a moment, she would actually smile, leaning in so that her lips might brush his.

"Why...of course..." she whispered.

Right before trying to kick him in the crotch.

The warmth of Sana's body produced a lewd grin. It signaled Hatchet's thoughts of what was to come. When he felt the just the briefest touch, of the smooth surface of Sana's lips, his tongue trickled out. A snake's tongue.

It would've wriggled itself inside, producing all the 'feel good' fluids, but catastrophe occured. It was not his day. His teeth suddenly snapped shut; his tongue appeared to have suffered the jaws of a bear trap. And his legs quivered, as the impact of Sana's foot charging itself into his groin forced the whole of his body to reverberate upon impact. His eyes wide open, and splurts of blood dripping from his mouth, Hatchet couldn't speak. Literally. His tongue had some nice cuts in it. He collapsed back into the chair behind him, but the better half of his body was slumped over. He clutched his crotch, squeezing his knees tightly together, and cuffed his mouth. He could only get out a mumble. "Yoaau biaatchh! Yoaau miaade muh bayte muh tunggue!"

Sana's wicked grin was unmistakable. She sat on the bed, her hands flat upon it to balance her, and she laughed. "Serves you fuckin' right!" she hissed at him.

That did not last long.

A nurse opened the door, alerted by quite a lot of things, and trotted in. "Oh, dear!" she cried, a hand to her mouth. The nurse's skirt might have been to flowy to be what the uniform demanded, but she did not seem to mind. The petite little nurse, with dark brown skin, vivid, almond green eyes, and hazel colored hair walked right up to Hatchet.

"Oh, well look at you, dear! You're hurt! Why don't we get you into another room and treat you, hmm?" she said with an overly cheery tone. She reached under his arm to give him support. With a glance to Sana, she sighed. "The other nurses will be right with you, dear, alright?"

She tried to lead Hatchet out of the room into the hallway.

Hatchet, slightly crippled by the pain, groaned as he steered away from Sana and walked along with the nurse. Just before they went out the door, he cocked his head back, to peer at Sana. He pointed a finger at her. "Ay stull kussed youaa. Haha-" He ceased his bloody bantering, and cuffed his mouth again. The pain in his groin was ridiculously unbearable. He looked to the nurse with a somewhat weary, somewhat anxious eye. "Whaure aur youaa taykun muh?" he asked. The red blood curdled down the creases of his fingers.

The nurse only giggled and lifted her shoulders. "Oh, just to the next room, dear, don't you worry!" she said, lifting her hand to pat his cheek. And, indeed, she would lead him into another room, though it was no emergency room. There was a bed that she would try to sit him on while she went to get a few medical supplies.

"I wonder how you even got injured in such a way! Your tongue must be horribly mangled!"

A petulant Hatchet, winced in slight pain when the nurse patted his cheek. Every little vibration produced a sharp pain over his entire tongue. He was greatly inclined to swear at her, but he refrained from doing so, since she was volenteering to help; niether, did he think it would be the best thing for his mouth, at the moment.

He wasn't greatly concerned she took him to another room, besides the emergency room. That place was unpleasant anyway. It smelled worse than he did; he still harbored the slight scent of burning trash. A pleasant, but muffled, sigh rushed out of his gurgling throat, and he gladly sat down on the bed. The pain in his groin was easing.

He glanced up at the nurse, and only nodded. She was definitely attractive. Yeah, he knew. A fact like that never escaped his conscience. He placed a hand on the edge of the bed, and hunched over as he leaned his weight on it. How annoying.

The woman came back with a a small handful of gauze, gloves, and a medical needle and threat. She smiled gently to Hatchet as she put them on a nearby table and snapped on the gloves. "If you would," she began, walking up to him, "Please stick out your tongue so I can survey the damage. There's enough blood that I think you might need stitches!"

She seemed entirely to gleeful at the fact.

"Don't be afraid, now. I'm not going to hurt you, after all. I'm a nurse."

This was going to be... horrible. Hatchet's eyes went wide for a moment. He simply stared at the woman, and then back at the needle. That was going in his tongue? No. He raised an arm, and flicked a finger up at the girl. "Youaa aur naut pootin' thot ding in muh mauth." He began to glare driectly into the woman's green eyes. His own eyes were much more protruding.

The nurse tilted her head to the side, pursed her lips, and said, "Oh, come now! We don't know how bad it is yet! We might not even have to use the needle. Just open your mouth and show me!" she said to him, reaching for the gauze.

"It won't kill you, y'know." she reassured him. She looked into his eyes a moment, then smiled brightly.

There was a moment of pause. He reflected on how he fiercely hated hospitals, now. They hled the same 'aura' as the experimentation facility he was confined at. Despicable people were employed there; he suspiciously presumed that despicable individuals might work in hospitals too.

Hatchet gradually let down his hand from his mouth. Blood was smeared all over his palm; gravity forced the meager puddle in his palm to spill out, and crimson vines of the liquid trickled down his wrist. He let his hand hang on the edge of the bed by his side, and he cautiously slipped out his tongue. The blood lathered his lips.

"Oh, dear!" cried the girl, a hand nearly coming to her cheek before she realized she was wearing gloves. She would take his tongue between the index finger and thumb of her left hand while she applied gauze onto it with the other. "You poor baby! It looks like you'll need stitches after all!"

She would hold the gauze there as she reached for the needle, and though she was not grinning as widely, a small, ever-present smile was still on her face. Like the Mona Lisa.

"Here. I'll get that fixed up in a jip!"

"Aaahhh!" His tongue wriggled in pain as the nurse took ahold of it. He winced, and groaned. A tempoary regeret of ever meeting Sana, or this nurse, dashed about in his thoughts. If only he did 'this', or 'that', maybe he wouldn't have bitten his tongue, in the first place. The whole scenario flustered him. He arched a brow. "Ba-? Ahh!" He whined once more, as she pressed the gauze on the bleeding cuts. The white cloth flashed red at the first touch.

Then he saw her reach for the needle. Before she could stick him with that wretched tool of torture, he whipped forth his bloody hand in an attempt to snatch her by the wrist; the one with the needle.

"Ef youaa twai anythunn, Au'll kull youaa." As ridiculous as he sounded, his multi-colored eyes held a stare that was not so humorous.

Though he may have caught her wrist and threatened her, the nurse did not seem intimidated. In fact, this only made her grin.

Devilishly.

"Oh, sir? I'm sorry. Could you say that again? I didn't quite get it the first time." As she said this, she spun the needle in her fingers, slid her thumb down it, and proceeded to try and poke it through Hatchet's wrist. The one that held her. She giggled.

Now wasn't that sneaky? He felt her wrist flex, as her hand manuevered to spin the needle. His eyes darted to her hand; initially he was only glancing out of mere caution. His pupil contracted as the lense over his eyeball quickly magnified the needle, but only for an instant. Hatchet would suddenly lift his legs, curling his knees upward, and shoot his feet forward; the soles of his shoes were aimed directly at the nurse's abdomen. A double 'Spartan kick', as one might call it. The slender man always had improv on his side. The impact would pound her ribs, and at the least, knock the air out of her lungs. The tip of the needle only pierced into the upper layer of his skin, as she would not have the former stability to push it all the way in.

The woman was far too fragile in her own mind to even think about taking a hit like that. She stopped the needle short as his legs were lifted, and, springing much like a kangaroo, jumped toward him instead of away. Since he was holding her wrist, moving away would be hopeless. If all went well, she would have jumped over his kick, using her shin to balance herself on his lap as she leaned into him, elbow at his sternum.

"Well, that wasn't very nice, was it?" she asked, voice darker, but still gleeful. "Why don't you let me go, sonny, and we can start over?"

His body, and shoulders jolted back, as she leapt atop his lap. His legs were still stretched out afront of him; as stiff as a board. Frazzled was the only word that could be used to describe his current expression. His left eye-lid curled upward, as his right brow was arched, producing harsh wrinkles on his forehead.

"Wut duh youaa theenk youaa'ra doin'?" he asked, before taking an over-all glance at her presently accentuated figure. He noticed the clothing she wore seemed to draw slightly tighter against her frame, upon her landing. He returned his eyes to her, and began to stare up at her more directly. There would be a moment of pause. His fingers peeled off her wrist; there would be a small splotch of blood left over. "Fyne, buat doan't twy ta tull me youaa're a rill nurse."

What she did was odd, and out of the blue. It seemed to be the response of a 'femme fatale.' He just wanted his tongue fixed by this time.

It was some days later that Drakus was about a huffing. For Lumierre it would be strange. One day he went to the manor on his own and disappeared for hours, returning irritable. Now once again he seemed just generally annoyed, grabbing things and shoving them in places rather than just putting them down.

"Lumierre?" he called, "We've got to go to the hospital."

She lifted a brow, coming up to him with her arms crossed lightly over her chest. Observing his movements, she glanced around the room before settling on him once again, considering what to say.

"The hospital?" she asked quietly. "I..why is..is everything okay?"

"I recieved a phonecall about a certain..." he stopped and let out a sigh. "We have to go check to see if everything is okay." He rubbed his face irritably. Maybe he was over-reacting. Red had promised him, and shown him, that she could behave around people. He felt a little lighter at that thought. "Come on, we'll go by carriage. Just in case." Just in case they needed picking up.

"I, alright." Lumi looked a tad bewildered, "Is there anything I can pack? Do we need anything?"

"No. Just... Us." He rubbed at his eyes. "We're meeting an old friend of mine, Lumierre. Though, you could call them a friend in the same passive-aggressive way you can call my brother a brother. We used to fight a lot. It was mostly in good taste and good humour, but one of our fights, well... It left a bad taste in the mouth. So she shot me." He indicated to where the bullet scar was, the one that had damaged his spine.

"Still. Let bygones be bygones. Let's go to the hospital." And with that he headed for the door.

Though the news surprised her, she just went along with the development, as was her usual custom when it came to surprises of any sort concerning Drakus. She took a breath, coming up to his side, and walking with him out the door, shoulder to shoulder with him.

It would be a short carriage ride, and questions on the nature of this friend would be expressly avoided. It was just Drakus sort of way. He didn't particularly have anything bad to say about Red. Yes she lacked many morals and etiquettes, but on the flip side he didn't have anything good to say about her either. Could 'Fun' and 'Occasionally an interesting challenge' really count as bounds for tolerating a person who was otherwise unfriendly towards you? They slowly pulled up in front of the hospital, drawing the horses to a stop, and Drakus stepped out first with a sigh.

Red was halfway down the hospital steps as the carriage pulled up, seemingly disregarding the chilly evening air as she stiffly buttoned her shirt up to conceal the pristine bandages that were tightly bound around her torso and left shoulder. Damn hospitals. They and Drakus had another thing coming if they expected her to stay here.

As Lumierre followed, her eyes found the figure coming down the stairwell, brow furrowing slightly before she tapped Drakus' shoulder and gestured toward the other.

"That...wouldn't happen to be her, would it?"

Drakus became tight-lipped. "Maybe," he said, rubbing his eyes before he headed for the front door. He planted his hands on his hips and levelled a stare straight for Red. "Young lady, where do you think you are going?" he demanded in his best authoritive voice. That was half a joke. He knew she out-aged him, probably considerably, but so long as she was sick he could still try to get some amusement out of her.

Red snorted loudly and gave Drakus a deep scowl. “If you think I'm going to be laid up in bed for a week, when it doesn't involve alcohol and sex, then you don't know me well enough. I'm leaving.”

Lumi's eyes flew wide, more out of surprise at the exchange than anything else, but she remained silent at Drakus' elbow, not even beginning to know the best thing to say or do. An introduction of sorts might have been called for, but this woman didn't seem like the type who would waste her time with pleasantries.

"Have you tried asking them for morphine? It's this drug... You take it and suddenly you can't think straight." Lumierre was present, so he resisted the urge to say 'Quite fun'. For some reason he was on edge in terms of impressions. "Are you even well enough to leave?"

“Yeah well, the hospital staff tends to frown on other extra curricular activities in the hospital. And of course I am, I'm walking aren't I? Since when did you take such a care in my physical well-being anyways?” Red's scowl had only deepened at Drakus' apparent interest in the matter.

"Since you know something I want to know," he said, almost cautiously. Oh like keeping his desire for immortality from Lumierre really meant anything. Yet all the same, he didn't go outright and say 'Because I think you can make me immortal'. "Well, if you're determined to leave, I have a carriage."

He paused, stepped to the side and gestured to Lumierre. "And this is Lumierre."

Red gave Lumierre a brief look over, the possibilities rolling through her head behind neutral eyes. At last she offered a coy twitch of her lips and what was likely a surprising choice of words, at least to Drakus. “Pleased to meet you. What landed you with this lout anyways?” Though her words were biting, the tone in which she spoke them was amiable enough.

In spite of herself, Lumi smiled. "And you as well. It was circumstance, though, as one who doesn't entertain thoughts on chance, Fate is probably a more accurate way to describe it."

It was sort of difficult to explain the situation surrounding their meeting.

Drakus resisted the urge to nervously chuckle. "Lumierre was an old friend of mine who I asked to stay at my manor. Things went down hill from there, but none of it I lay at her feet. Into the carriage then, shall we?" he suggested, climbing back inside. There was enough room for four people, two facing either direction, so they would all fit.

Red grunted her distaste at the situation, but it did beat walking about aimlessly in the cold until Aerona got impatient enough to send people to retrieve her. An encounter she wasn't keen to partake in. "Not worried I'll try to kill you again?" she inquired bluntly as they made for the carriage.

Lumi walked on Drakus' opposite side, occasionally glancing towards Red before shifting her gaze to the other. "How did you end up in the hospital in the first place?" she asked her. Drakus hadn't told her much, and she figured that question was innocent enough.

"Oh, is that what you were trying to do?" Drakus answered in an unimpressed fashion, as if he was unimpressed with her efforts, "She had a fever. She was poking around the manor for some reason. Apparently expecting me to take her in and give her a bed to rest it out. Unfortunately..." Well, the manor was gone now. "So I took her to hospital."

"She knows something," he said with a frown, "Some way to achieve immortality. Eternal longevity. That is more than enough reason for me to not toss her on the street."

Ah, that made sense.

Immortality. Something she'd come into by birth, and he was trying so hard to find its secret through artificial means. She supposed she didn't blame him for his efforts. That was something he'd always been fascinated with.

"How did you come by this information?" she asked, really directing the question at the both of them.

"I know her. She's practically confirmed it." She hadn't. He'd just interpretted it. "So..." he said with a long drawn out sigh, "I'm suggesting that when we leave... We take Red with us. And we try to find the source of this immortality on our journey. Unless Red wishes to part with us on her own, which I believe prompted me to make an offer. Did I already tell you my offer?"

“I'm sure this will be good...” Red replied.

"I offered quite simply permission to make demands, any demands, on a parchment, that only I can write on, to be fulfilled after I gained immortality with her aid. Negotiations can be had on the trip, as can demands. And once written, it can't be removed. It would have to be a very specific spell, but I'm sure we can find someone who can make such a parchment. Or... Well, paper."

“I think I've learned well enough about you and contracts. You'll have to do better than that.”

"It's just a check sheet, Red. I'm not going to ask you to sign your soul away." And here was the uncomfortable side of things. Red knew things about Drakus. Dodgy things. Things he'd rather not shared with Lumierre. "In fact, you won't even need to touch it, or read it if you trust me. It will solely be me writing down what you want. The magic is just to make sure neither of us cheat."

“I thought I damaged your the spine, not your head. But whatever, let's just get out of here,” Red replied. She certainly seemed anxious to be somewhere that wasn't there.

When Red mentioned contracts, Lumi couldn't help but silently agree. Not that she didn't love Drakus, or hadn't forgiven him for what had happened in the past, but he certainly had a way with the written word that was sure to confuse the majority of the signers involved. She took a deep breath, keeping silent for the moment, and following after the other pair. For the most part, she was lost to her own thoughts.

"What's that supposed to mean," Drakus demanded in an unimpressed voice. A defensive tone. "Erm. One slight problem. If you agree to go on this trip under the deal of immortality for anything you ask for, then two questions spring to mind. Where do you intend to stay and when do we intend to leave? Not that I'm in a rush. I have a few things I still need to do."

“Not to impose anything on you, seeing as we just met and all, but he's got a good question. I could use a place to recuperate until we leave. What do you say?” Red inquired towards Drakus' companion. The normally volatile woman was being remarkably amiable towards Lumierre.

"I have no objections," Lumi replied, seeming quite surprised at the fact that her opinion had even been taken into consideration. She smiled slightly at the other, thankful that the entire meeting had gone far better than she'd originally anticipated it to go. She glanced to Drakus.

"Of course, I'll leave the final decision to him."

His face said 'You can't be serious', but his mouth said, "Anything for an old friend."