Three heavy knocks echoed through the house, sending people jumping out of their chairs from wherever they were and heading straight for the front door. Midfielder was the first one to reach the door. He peered out the peep hole and let out a quiet curse. "Who is it?" Cleo called from the parlor.
"It's Father Mori." Midfielder called back, opening the door. "Long time no see."
"Indeed Midfielder. What language though." Mori chided, shaking his head as he entered the old house with the once pristine white carpeting which now bore bloody footprints.
"Upstairs. Third floor." Midfielder stood out of the way and pointed up the old stairs in the foyar.
"Thank you. Good to see you by the way." Mori strode up the stairs, ignoring the biting pain in his side. He discovered a large, fleshy boulder of an obstruction on his way between the second and third floor. The large, fleshy bolder rose to his... no, her... full height (somewhere close to seven feet at the moment), her lip curled in a permanent sneer. "Who are you?" she asked, then sniffed, "And why do you smell like blood?"
Mori stopped, grinned and pulled out the side of his coat revealing two large holes in his side shabbily bandaged. "Because I was shot two times and killed a man getting here. Now move."
"It's okay Mom! He's a healer!" Cleo called from downstairs. The large, fleshy boulder's eyes narrowed a bit, and she slowly shrank to a somewhat less impressive hieght, though she was still quiet tall and wide. She very slowly moved to one side.
"Only because my daughter says you're alright." she growled.
"I would have passed anyway." Wincing with the effort to keep himself moving fast he continued up the stairs. The noise the giant made sent a clear message that she doubted that very much.
No one had cleaned up the bloody footprints that lead from the stairs to the bedroom door at the end of the hall. Mori could hear someone inside, grumbling loudly.
Already chanting slowly, Mori entered the room, dropping his coat to be able to move more freely. All that stood between the mess on the bed and Mori was less than five feet of Native American in a bloody shirt, checking an IV. "No one is supposed to be up here."
"Then what are you doing here?" Obviously close to losing his temper Mori stared towards the bed. Blood was now running freely from the holes in his side in addition to several cuts on his forearms and legs.
The room fell into one of those dangerous silences that only came about when two preditors came into contact in a situation that was less than clear cut.
Recognizing Whispers In Pain, Mori stopped for a moment. "Look, I've been shot twice and cut seven times. If you don't allow me to heal her now I may never get the chance."
Whispers met the priest's milky white eyes, then took in his generally discheviled appearance, then glared at the blood seeping from his wounds. "You're not going near her with those bleeding all over the place. She's in bad enough shape without risking her getting a disease. One minute to bandage you up wont kill either of you."
Sighing in resignation, Mori slumped towards the nearest wall, staying upright without any help from his spine. " Be quick about it."
The tiny werewolf grabbed a roll of bandages off the nightstand, probably the only bit of furnature in the room still upright besides the bed, and set to work pulling the wounds together quietly. In all, it actually took perhaps two minutes.
Pulling himself together, Mori moved towards Kami and gently lay his hands over her wounds. Tears were running from his eyes, it pained him beyond belief to see Kami abused like this. It was as though the last time had been magnified a hundredfold... where her skin wasn't chalky white from blood loss, it was mottled with ugly purple black bruises and cuts.
She looked as though she was so close to death that they were shaking hands. Perhaps even exchanging pleasent greetings. Even as the wound closed beneath his hands, she didn't look any better.
"She's lucky the bottle didn't hit anything vital." he heard the werewolf say, though her voice sounded far far away.
Calling upon the power his Lord had given him, Mori started pouring his own life into Kami. A hand closed around one of his wrists, pulling him away. It was a cold hand, and clearly not the werewolf's, as she was on the other side of the bed.
"I... think she wants you to stop." Whispers ventured,looking at the hand locked on Mori's wrist.
"I'll stop when she can tell me to stop herself." Mori's words were all but a whisper. Making sure he didn't hurt her he forced his hand down and resumed his chanting. Her nails dug into his wrist as his hand moved back to the wound, though they didn't break skin. She let out a ragged cough and a gurgle that almost sounded like a word. A word that sounded like it might have started with an M.
Grinning strangely, Mori kept on chanting. His eyes now had a red sheen to them, and drops of blood were flowing from the corners of his eyes. " Live damnit!"
"sss...stoooh..."
Mori let out a barking laugh and resumed healing her. " Is this all you can do? Groan at me? Now show me that you're still the Kami I've met before and not a playboy bunny!"
"stop." The word came out like a croak. It wasn't very loud, but it was actually understandable. "baka... daitaku..."
Smiling, Mori allowed himself to fall backwards in a beautiful arch and crush the remaining table.
"You people are gonna be the death of me." he heard Whispers grumble before everything faded into nothing.
"It's Father Mori." Midfielder called back, opening the door. "Long time no see."
"Indeed Midfielder. What language though." Mori chided, shaking his head as he entered the old house with the once pristine white carpeting which now bore bloody footprints.
"Upstairs. Third floor." Midfielder stood out of the way and pointed up the old stairs in the foyar.
"Thank you. Good to see you by the way." Mori strode up the stairs, ignoring the biting pain in his side. He discovered a large, fleshy boulder of an obstruction on his way between the second and third floor. The large, fleshy bolder rose to his... no, her... full height (somewhere close to seven feet at the moment), her lip curled in a permanent sneer. "Who are you?" she asked, then sniffed, "And why do you smell like blood?"
Mori stopped, grinned and pulled out the side of his coat revealing two large holes in his side shabbily bandaged. "Because I was shot two times and killed a man getting here. Now move."
"It's okay Mom! He's a healer!" Cleo called from downstairs. The large, fleshy boulder's eyes narrowed a bit, and she slowly shrank to a somewhat less impressive hieght, though she was still quiet tall and wide. She very slowly moved to one side.
"Only because my daughter says you're alright." she growled.
"I would have passed anyway." Wincing with the effort to keep himself moving fast he continued up the stairs. The noise the giant made sent a clear message that she doubted that very much.
No one had cleaned up the bloody footprints that lead from the stairs to the bedroom door at the end of the hall. Mori could hear someone inside, grumbling loudly.
Already chanting slowly, Mori entered the room, dropping his coat to be able to move more freely. All that stood between the mess on the bed and Mori was less than five feet of Native American in a bloody shirt, checking an IV. "No one is supposed to be up here."
"Then what are you doing here?" Obviously close to losing his temper Mori stared towards the bed. Blood was now running freely from the holes in his side in addition to several cuts on his forearms and legs.
The room fell into one of those dangerous silences that only came about when two preditors came into contact in a situation that was less than clear cut.
Recognizing Whispers In Pain, Mori stopped for a moment. "Look, I've been shot twice and cut seven times. If you don't allow me to heal her now I may never get the chance."
Whispers met the priest's milky white eyes, then took in his generally discheviled appearance, then glared at the blood seeping from his wounds. "You're not going near her with those bleeding all over the place. She's in bad enough shape without risking her getting a disease. One minute to bandage you up wont kill either of you."
Sighing in resignation, Mori slumped towards the nearest wall, staying upright without any help from his spine. " Be quick about it."
The tiny werewolf grabbed a roll of bandages off the nightstand, probably the only bit of furnature in the room still upright besides the bed, and set to work pulling the wounds together quietly. In all, it actually took perhaps two minutes.
Pulling himself together, Mori moved towards Kami and gently lay his hands over her wounds. Tears were running from his eyes, it pained him beyond belief to see Kami abused like this. It was as though the last time had been magnified a hundredfold... where her skin wasn't chalky white from blood loss, it was mottled with ugly purple black bruises and cuts.
She looked as though she was so close to death that they were shaking hands. Perhaps even exchanging pleasent greetings. Even as the wound closed beneath his hands, she didn't look any better.
"She's lucky the bottle didn't hit anything vital." he heard the werewolf say, though her voice sounded far far away.
Calling upon the power his Lord had given him, Mori started pouring his own life into Kami. A hand closed around one of his wrists, pulling him away. It was a cold hand, and clearly not the werewolf's, as she was on the other side of the bed.
"I... think she wants you to stop." Whispers ventured,looking at the hand locked on Mori's wrist.
"I'll stop when she can tell me to stop herself." Mori's words were all but a whisper. Making sure he didn't hurt her he forced his hand down and resumed his chanting. Her nails dug into his wrist as his hand moved back to the wound, though they didn't break skin. She let out a ragged cough and a gurgle that almost sounded like a word. A word that sounded like it might have started with an M.
Grinning strangely, Mori kept on chanting. His eyes now had a red sheen to them, and drops of blood were flowing from the corners of his eyes. " Live damnit!"
"sss...stoooh..."
Mori let out a barking laugh and resumed healing her. " Is this all you can do? Groan at me? Now show me that you're still the Kami I've met before and not a playboy bunny!"
"stop." The word came out like a croak. It wasn't very loud, but it was actually understandable. "baka... daitaku..."
Smiling, Mori allowed himself to fall backwards in a beautiful arch and crush the remaining table.
"You people are gonna be the death of me." he heard Whispers grumble before everything faded into nothing.