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Post by Cameron Michaels on Nov 16, 2007 13:09:22 GMT -5
Cameron stood in device of Tirith. There was no fear in his eyes, no fear in his heart. Fear, being the one thing that this demon strived for, fed on. Cameron would not five it to him and that gesture alone would be enough to weaken him. Cameron didn’t know how much that it had received from Max, but he assumed that it wasn’t that much. He had not heard her scream. He had only heard her saw no. Cameron did not see Tirith in his hobo human form. No, Cameron saw Tirith in his demon form and any form of words could not describe that. It didn’t matter because Tirith saw a soldier of God in front of him and that simply was not pleasing for the demon. However, Tirith was going to test the strength of this soldier and a ball of fear formed in his hands. All of this was not evident to Max had she been conscious. The only thing that she would see would be the marks of battle. A fireball soared past Cameron and struck the walls, leaving the smoldering marks behind. Then another struck Cameron’s chest. Nothing happened. Cameron looked down and smiled. This stuff worked well. Then Cameron came on the offensive and demon found a sword of his own, twisted and curved made of black mist. The clash did not last long. Cameron did not know how to use a sword prior to this, but it seemed that he could use any weapon now. Cameron fought and the demon could not hold his own. No demon could hold its own against a soldier of God. Cameron had back Tirith into a corner and he was cowering against the wall. Cameron had defeated Tirith and the final strike ended him. There was a sound, of tearing in the atmosphere and then an explosion that took out half the wall followed. Cameron, however, still stood. His armor had gone away now and he turned and knelt down beside Max.
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Post by Max on Nov 16, 2007 14:54:59 GMT -5
Flat chest rising and falling with rapid, fluttering breaths, Max lay on her back, one hand on her stomach, the other out at her side. Her head, with the untidy braid of dark blonde hair, lolled to the side, her mouth half open. The black wings, concealed under the shirt, were crushed up against her back, though had they been unfolded they would have drooped limply. A small dark puddle had begun to form around her muscled calf, dripping from the now-soaked bandage around the wound. If she survived a day, she would live. Her mixed genetics meant that her body healed faster, which was good considering all the surgeries she had been through. Max's mind was wandering, lost somewhere unknown, in a gray mist. It was peaceful beyond belief as she lay, unaware of the cataclysimic fight around her, without pain or sorrow. A cool breeze from the open wall wafted against her exposed arms, and she stirred slightly, the mist beginning to recede. But it came in waves, sometimes with pain before oblivion. After a while of this a man began to come into focus. Cameron. But without the armor. Even though deprived of oxygen-rich blood somewhat, her mind still ticked along at a steady rate. The hobo was gone, as was the wall. If it had not been for the inexplicably damaged lighthouse, Max would have dismissed it as a dream. "What happened," she asked, her voice a bit thick from coming out of the darkness.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Nov 16, 2007 15:45:49 GMT -5
When Cameron knelt down beside Max his knee landed in the steadily growing pull of blood from her wound. Cameron knew that if it was not stitched up immediately the blood loss was going to be too great for her to sustain her life anymore. Cameron smiled down at her when he saw her come out of unconsciousness and he answered her in a soft tone, “Later, rest.” He whispered and put his hand over her eyes, closing them gently as he moved it down. He then took out his needle and thread and put the thread through the eye of the needle. He placed it on the ground and unwrapped the bandage. He dabbed the wound to get rid of as much blood as possible and then began to stitch the wound. He wasn’t an expert at it, but he was just going to have to be enough. It took him only about five minutes because he was in a hurry. The wound closed and the bleeding had stopped for the most part. He wondered if it was too late.
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Post by Max on Nov 16, 2007 16:02:04 GMT -5
There was a reason it took over seven hundred tries before the scientist got Max. She was genetically engineered for hardiness, and she could sustain injuries that would kill normal humans. But even with that her life hung in the balance. Her skin was ashen and a bit cool to the touch, her heart beating slower than it normally did, though it was still two times faster than a normal human's. Her blue-gray eyes fluttered shut again, her breaths shallow and a bit raspy. Her skin flinched at the touch of the needle, and she willed herself to not attack, to keep still. But about halfway through Max passed out again from blood loss. Her body slowly began to recuperate as the blood flow stopped, starting to produce more of her unique cells. But still she remained unconscious. As a natural response to the trauma, her body shut down all unnecessary functions, such as consciousness and speech. Max would live; she was too stubborn to die.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Nov 16, 2007 17:00:04 GMT -5
Cameron had finished stitching her and now he took out his last pair of bandages and began to wrap it around her leg as tightly as he could. He knew that pressure was the best thing for wounds that were likely to bleed. Cameron put his hand on her neck and checked her pulse to make sure that she was still alive. It was a steady pulse, which was a good thing. Cameron knew that her body was shutting down all of its secondary systems to she would heal faster. He had no idea of knowing how fast she would heal. He had never encountered anyone like this before. He sat back against the wall and looked through the hole that had been created when Cameron had killed Tirith. He was going to watch over her until she came to again. It was still another five hours before the soldiers would be back to pick Cameron and know Max up to go to the base.
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Post by Max on Nov 16, 2007 17:07:21 GMT -5
Slowly, over the next couple hours, Max began to recover. Her skin gradually began to take on a healthier hue, losing the grayish white tint that had currently shadowed it. Though still unconscious, her mind worked at an amazing rate, just thinking inside her head. It was something Max had developed after being unconscious for so long; she could control her unconsciousness to a degree that she could still think and analyze. It was a good skill, as it had led to the plans for her escape. She smiled internally. Max would have given almost anything to have a picture of the looks on their faces when they discovered she was gone. But she had already been miles away by that time. Finally, around the four hours mark, her eyes snapped open. Max had been conscious for about ten minutes, but had remained still. If there was still a threat, she liked to have the upper hand with the element of surprise. But all her sensitive hearing picked up was the steady breathing of Cameron and the distant crash of the waves. For now it was safe.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Nov 16, 2007 19:58:42 GMT -5
Cameron was sitting on the windowsill when Max woke up. He didn't notice that she was awake. He had been thinking. That was the first time that he had ever used that gift. He had been surprised by its effectiveness. Cameron was now a little bit more optimistic about the fight that was coming up. Cameron wondered how well the armor would protect him against the vampires and their real weapons. It was one thing to fight spiritually, but another thing to fight in the physical. Cameron didn't know and he guessed that he was going to have to find out. Cameron was ready though. He turned around when he heard Max stirring and he smiled down at her, hoping off the ledge, walking to her. "Feeling better?" Cameron asked as a small chunk of the wall fell down with a resounding thud. Cameron didn't look at it, he knew what it was. It had been happening for the past hour.
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Post by Max on Nov 16, 2007 22:08:06 GMT -5
Without moving anything but her eyes, Max did a preliminary scan of the area. The top of the lighthouse was unstable, as evidenced by the constantly falling pieces of rock. Cameron was still up here, and he seemed to be thinking. Novel concept. He seemed like more of an action fellow. But here they were, two completely different people, but drawn together by a common cause. Or more like a random coincidence. "I feel like I was cut up, in a nighmare, and unconscious for a few hours after massive blood loss," Max replied with a painful grimace as she raised herself up on her elbows. She could feel that stitches had been put in, and the blood loss seemed to have stopped. For now, anyways. Max decided not to risk getting up right now. "How long until your people come?" she inquired. The sooner they left here, the better.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Nov 17, 2007 0:17:34 GMT -5
When Max asked when his men were coming for them, he checked his watch and then looked back up at her Max, replying in a calm tone, "Forty-six minutes." Cameron's men were never late unless something was wrong, and even then they were not but minutes behind schedule. Cameron walked over to Max and knelt down beside her, looking at her leg bandage. There wasn't much blood so that was a good thing. Cameron could only hope that it had not become infected. He looked at Max and ran his hands through his hair. "We are going to need to get down, this building, or at least this room is about to fall in on itself as i am assure you can probably assess." Cameron said as another chunk of stone fell. "Now, can you move?" Cameron asked, offering his hand to her.
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Post by Max on Nov 17, 2007 0:24:48 GMT -5
Judging by the increasing chunks of falling rocks, the top of the lighthouse was about to cave in. Forty six minutes...she had been out for a while. Unconsciousness really didn't have a clock. With a low growl, she rolled over on her knees, pushing herself up. It wasn't a diss to Cameron by not taking his hand, Max just wasn't used to any concepts like chivalry or helpfulness. "I can move," she said, rising to her full height. Gazing around, she rubbed her chin, thinking. "Stairs might be too slow..." she murmured, "flying?" Turning to Cameron, Max said, "Cameron, go stand over by the hole. I'm flying us down."
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Nov 17, 2007 19:24:35 GMT -5
Cameron heard her suggestion for her to fly him down to the ground about two hundred feet below. Cameron did not think it was such a wise idea. Max had just told him the reasons for her not helping him down the mountain, not but several hours ago. Cameron wasn’t sure how her leg was and it would be difficult for her to land herself, not to mention Cameron. Cameron wasn’t a very light person. He was 6:2 and over one hundred and eighty pounds. Picking him up wasn’t going to e easier no matter how enhanced her strength was. Then she still had to land! “Yea, I don’t think that is a good idea.” He said, backing towards the hole, “I mean, your leg, I am not light.” Cameron said as another chunk fell and this time a crack traveled up the dome of the lighthouse and the roof began to drop down. Cameron watched and looked at Max, “Nevermind, lets go.” He said, extending his arms.
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Post by Max on Nov 17, 2007 20:01:04 GMT -5
The key was not picking up Cameron; it was sustaining his weight until they could land. She estimated that they were about two hundred feet up. Max figured she could make it down. If anything she could at least slow the descent until she could drop him a yard or two above the ground without dropping him. Then it would be easier for her to land without hurting herself. But now, as the lighthouse top began to crumble, there was no time for second thoughts. Starting at the far end of the lighthouse, Max whipped off her t-shirt. Throwing her backpack down out of the hole, she took a deep breath and then began to run, her wings streamlined to her body. Hitting Cameron's back with a solid thud, she knocked him cleanly off the tower, gripping him powerfully around his chest. Her wings spread out to their full capacity, flapping strongly to make up for the added weight. Behind them, the tower crumbled ominously, showering small chunks of rock and glass over Max. Her teeth gritted, Max strove madly to slow their plummeting descent, banking around in a tight spiral. One hundred feet and approaching fast. She thought they had begun to slow, but right now she poured all her energy into holding onto Cameron and beating her massive wings. Wind whipped around them, her vision blurring as all her muscles tensed, her energy already driven to the maximum. As they neared fifty feet, the descent had slowed. Someone being dropped at this height might actually be able to survive. Twenty......ten......at around eight feet Max could hold on no longer and dropped the heavy Marine. Her balance thrown off by the sudden loss in weight, her wings faltered, overcompensating, sending her careening forwards over his head. Half conscious, Max landed heavily on her good leg, tumbling over a few times. In a collision of feathers, skin, and sand, Max hit a sand dune, sliding a few yards before lying still again.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Nov 17, 2007 23:02:50 GMT -5
When the lighthouse began to crumble behind them, Cameron turned to look. He couldn’t get a clean look because he simply couldn’t turn his head that far around. Cameron then had to worry about the rocks falling around them. A shard of glass cut clean through his arm but Cameron didn’t notice. He was holding onto Max with all of his might. He would apologize if he strangled her with how tightly he was squeezing. Then the ground started coming up towards them. Cameron watched it. He wanted to say something but his breath was in his lungs along with his tongue and he was speechless. They were getting closer and closer to the ground and then he was dropped. He curled up, bending his knees to cushion the fall. He rolled as he landed and then watched as Max hurled over his head and “landed” in the sand dune in front of him. Cameron was alright for the most part and he stood up, running over to where Max had landed, “Max!” he called.
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Post by Max on Nov 17, 2007 23:10:22 GMT -5
Covered in sand, her wings bedraggled and small cuts covering her bare arms, Max lay still in the sand. She was in that strange state between consciousness and the darkness. Numb, she lay with her blue-gray eyes staring unseeing at the sunset sky. Slowly she became aware of her surroundings. The tiny rocks that made up the fine sand dug into her back, irritating her skin as she lay unmoving. A slight breeze blew across her face, smelling of salt and a slight fishiness. A voice came out of the haze, calling to her. Cameron...so he had survived. Good. With a weak smile, Max turned her head, her eyes unsteadily focusing on the approaching man. "That was almost as good as the ride down the volcano!" she enthused.
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Post by Cameron Michaels on Nov 17, 2007 23:15:30 GMT -5
This girl was hardcore. She had just landed in a sand dune from a drop of about two hundred feet, going at speeds exceeding forty miles an hour and she was smiling. Cameron wasn’t even smiling and he had down this stuff for recreation on occasions. He had jumped from planes before, but nothing had been that intense. He reached Max and knelt down beside her and extended his hand. He made sure not to land on her wings. He didn’t want to injure them if they had not been injured already. Cameron finally smiled, “You’re crazy you know that?” Cameron said.`
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