The Belikov Manor

[Doctor]

Anshel spent the short ride painfully alert, staring Rima down with narrowed eyes. He had insisted she be put in the trunk for his safety in hopes his heavy luggage would crush her to death, but Azura refused to stop the car with dawn so close to breaking.

When they pulled up to the hideaway, Anshel was surprised by how unremarkable it appeared. It was a large house, three floors with expansive grounds, but it looked like any other building owned by a reclusive family, all the windows were covered by thick drapes inside and he imagined they were sealed off by other means as well.

Anshel was the first out of the car. He opened the passenger door and scooped up Melora, definitively against being in the position of having to assist Rima in any way. He hoped she would get the hint and stay far, far away from him - if not different continents, at least different floors.

With Melora in his arms, he actually found it difficult to maneuver inside the safe-house. The floorplan was spacious and open, but there were so many Gallu roaming about the halls, trying to reach their quarters before daybreak. Inside, it reminded him somewhat of the castle. Art hung everywhere and the the decor was luxurious.

When Anshel heard Azura enter behind him - With Rima following close by, no doubt, he thought angrily - he looked to him for instructions about where to head.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura walked into the house as if he owned the place, which he did, and smiled at the man who'd come down the stairs to greet them.
Once his eyes met the King's he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, much like a suffocating fish while Azura simply waited patiently.
"M-m-my Lord. I'm sorry! I wasn't informed you'd be arriving!"
The King rolled his eyes.
"Relax. This is a very impromptu visit. My friend needs some help." He gestured toward Melora. Then he looked back a Rima, who'd ben quiet, staring off with a hollow look to her eyes that made him want to punch her. Not so much as a thank you. "And so does she."
The man's eyes narrowed, growl tearing from his throat as all the other Gallu in the room stiffened, ready to kill if commanded.
"She's not affiliated with them. If you'd kindly get the bullets out of her, I'm sure she'd appreciate it, but she's a bit rude for such an old hag."
The man, who was clearly the head of this household, motioned a hand, jerking his fingers forward. A moment later two women came into view, one gently ushering Rima to some unseen treatment room, the other holding her arms out in front of Anshel.
"I shall take her for you," A small, but firm voice spoke to Anshel. She smiled at his obvious awe. It was easy to get so overwhelmed here.
Azura simply stood by and watched, pleased with himself at the image his clan presented, not only to his friends, but the Banglaire as a whole.

[Doctor]

Anshel handed the broken girl off and contemplated asking the Gallu to put Melora in a full-body cast. The girl needed to sit fucking still and heal. No matter how many times he warned her, she was determined to ignore him and push her body to inhuman limits. Vetis would leave her and she'd drop dead. Upon further consideration he concluded that limiting her movement couldn't hurt.

"Could you put her in a cast?" He asked the young lady who had offered to take Melora from him. "I don't think her limbs are broken, but if you could put a cast on one of her legs, and maybe one on her left arm, it would be much appreciated." The girl looked at him funny, confused by the request. "It's alright, I'm her superior," he explained. With a shrug and a nod the vampire agreed and left.

It was just the two of them now. Anshel wondered if he should introduce himself as the temporary head of his clan. He'd leave the politics to Azura for now. Still peeved and very confused by the vampire's change in habit - Keeping Rima alive? Seriously, what the hell? - he looked to his friend with expectant eyes.

[Rima Elaine Donavon]

Her eyes narrowed at Azura, and she was half tempted to quip: I only give thank yous to people who deserve them, and to people with manners. Rude old hag. ‘If I were his Mother he’d learn some manners. He’d call no woman any further insults, and would be decent enough around men.’ She thought to herself, though the thought nearly made her gag.

She hated the looks she was getting too: spiteful, hateful, right on down to a silenced, murderous rage. Gallians were so... blunt. The woman who had ushered her off to a treatment room was the only one who had shown kindness, though that proved painful.

“Take a seat, I’ll get some sterilized materials, and we can begin.” She said quietly, walking over to a cabinet to get said supplies. Her shoulder seated painfully as she shifted to watch.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura quirked an eyebrow at Anshel's odd request, but decided that Melora very thoroughly needed to be restrained. He'd have been more than happy to do it himself, if only she weren't just a goddamn prude.
He then noticed the look in his friends eyes.
Abandoning thoughts of the irksome Huntress in favor of explaining that which desperately needed explanation, he took Anshel by the arm; earning a pleased look from the head of the household as he meandered back into the kitchen. Leading them both into a secluded seating area, he turned on the judge with a face almost pained.
"I'm sorry!" he blurted out, voice hopelessly irrational as he'd had trouble even forming the words for anyone else. He didn't think he'd ever apologized to anyone but his parents in his entire life. "I'm sorry..." He said again, much quieter. "You see, there was a ghost with her. And I have this stupid habit of wanting...or more needing to speak with them. More often than not, they have something important to say."
With that short, piss-poor excuse for an explanation, he sighed, rubbing the back of his neck nervously as his eyes traveled elsewhere.

[MeloraBelikov]

The woman took Melora away, only to emerge from the room moments later after some clatter and shouting. "Such a scary Russian!" The unlucky woman commented to her friend upon leaving the room. The door slammed shut behind her and a lock clicked. "Don't go in there," she warned anyone who was within earshot.

In the room Melora sat, covering herself once again with sheets. No one was going to restrain her. Fuck that.

It's for your own good you know, Vetis reminded, taunting the huntress, If you die after all of this trouble Anshel's gonna be pissed.

Melora audibly snorted at the thought. Anshel would be relieved to be rid of me, babysitting duty has gotten out of his control recently.

And what of the vampire prince?

ничего, she responded, He would be sad he never had the opportunity to fuck me.

Fuck it all. Her legs weren't broken, and her left wrist wasn't either. No good could come of having her restrained, particularly if her father should attack again. Being half dead was hard enough, she wasn't in the mood to be relying on anyone to defend her.

Good luck explaining to Azura that you chased his house woman out of the room. And find us some fucking clothes.

Melora ignored the command, content to just sit covered in sheets. For now she could relax without anyone feeling a need to tend to her or bark commands at her, except for Vetis of course, who would be promptly ignored.

[Doctor]

Upon receiving that... explanation? Could one even call it that? But on receiving it Anshel's face scrunched up. When was the last time he felt this hurt? Not defensive or angry, but genuinely hurt? Perhaps it was because too much had gone on in the past few days, but he couldn't remember.

"You..." He whispered it, really not wanting to believe Azura. "You risked my life to... What? Feed some inane compulsion to chat with dead strangers?" He spit the last part out. "I was stupid to think you could consider anyone but yourself! I honestly thought..." he stopped and pressed his lips together, refusing to chance his voice cracking. "... I thought we were close to being friends."

This was stupid, Anshel thought. He'd always accepted he was a passionate person. Passionate people were emotional, he was emotional, but the fact he'd gotten himself hurt again and by this idiot... that was incredibly unsettling. Hell, it was downright infuriating because he was too old to be making these kinds of mistakes.

Azura's face, so young and so earnest, was refusing to even look at him in the eye, the asshole. So, with measured strength, not enough to break anything, but enough to leave a temporary mark, he slapped the vampire across the face, making contact with his stupidly pretty cheekbone and sending a crack around the room.

"Fuck. You." Anshel spat out, pointing a finger at him, the others curled into his smarting palm.

[Rima Elaine Donavon]

Rima winced, claws shredding through the sterile paper, and cushion, that she was reclined on. The distinctive ping noise echoed as the second of the bullets dropped into the metal dish at her side. Once both of the silvery irritants were out, her skin began to knit back together once more. She could feel that, and it felt like she was on cloud nine. Use of the arm and shoulder would be better in minutes.

“Better?” The girl asked with a smirk. She was truly a Gallian, clearly having enjoyed the pain inflicted on the Blackraven as she removed the bullets. Rima nodded. “Do you want to save these?” The bullets rattles as the girl held up the dish and gave it a shake.

Her immediate answer was going to be in the negative, but a thought came to mind. ‘What the hell, a souvenir can’t hurt. Just a trinket to keep myself reminded why I need to stop trusting those damn Hunters… and that asshole of a Gallian.’ “Sure.” She rolled her good shoulder, implying that those tiny objects were of no importance. No, as soon as possible she’d get a crystalline vial to deposit them in to wear as a necklace. A very important reminder.

Curious to see how Anshel was faring since he so blatantly expressed his want to kill her, Rima began to worm her way into his mind, only to be greeted by immense hurt. He’d be able to feel the recoil of her mind from his own. Stunned silence settled in her own mind.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura's eyes widened with what may have initially been surprise, but if one were to look close and quickly enough, they'd have seen the wince and almost imperceptible quiver of his irises in complete shock.
What the Hell did everyone want from him?
First he was too rough, earning abuse from Anshel over it, even more of the incident with Melora, in which he'd only been trying to defend himself. And then he was too soft, too kind. His efforts to explain fell on deaf ears, and the words of apology died in his throat, strangled by hesitation of not knowing how. Saying you were sorry just seemed meaningless. It was so easy to fake; so easy to just throw out and toss aside.
It didn't mean anything, which is why he was so upset over the fact that he'd again been physically chastised over trying to articulate something better.
Somewhere in the depths of his mind, the colder, more brutal part of him said that he shouldn't bother, that his stressed apologies and staggering attempts to assimilate to them weren't going to be accepted.
In that respect, especially now, he felt a small stabbing pain in his chest. It was not unlike that described by humans when they were in emotional turmoil; the feeling taking his breath away with its immense, invisible weight.
Sighing, he looked directly at Anshel, the colors of their eyes clashing drastically from across the expanse that separated them. A shaking hand raked through his hair, a kind of nervous tension building within his chest.
"I'm trying to explain the best I can," he tried again, hoping that his friend would at least try to understand that he was making an effort to properly explain things and smooth out the wrinkles in their friendship. "I value you more than anyone else...you're really the only friend I've had, aside from Melora since my brother's passing. Both of you were there when my father left me as well, and stuck by me even with your snarky commentary." He cast his eyes downward again, feeling very much bare to Anshel's sharp-eyed scrutiny. He was torn over this, part of it so beaten out of him as a child through repetitious training, the other wanting to express his lighter side to those he thought might understand and accept him for it.
"I would never trade you or Melora for a simple conversation!"
He huffed, satisfied that the mild anger in his words would suffice for now.

[MeloraBelikov]

When Melora was feeling well enough she finally stood and sorted through the clothes the woman had dropped while making her mad dash for the door. A dress, only about 5 sizes too big, and a belt. No shoes, just long black socks to match the dress. Little bows sat at the top of the socks, smiling at her in an uber cutesy way.

Gross.

With the dress as much in place as it could get and the socks on, Melora found herself finally ready to leave the room for a wander. The dress dwarfed her already tiny frame, and she found herself pulling at it to keep it from falling off of her. The only thing that saved the outfit from leaving her exposed was a belt sitting around her waist.

When the door clicked open vampires stepped out of her way, wary of anyone who had sent one of their own running. Carefully she set foot on the smooth marble of the hallway, slipping out the door and clicking it shut. She felt all eyes on her as she slid into the hall, making her feel even smaller than the clothes did. This was the second time she'd found herself in a Gallu safehouse, and it wasn't becoming any more comfortable.

[Doctor]

With the vampire, Anshel had let his affection fly without restraint and it was liberating being so far up in the clouds. Forming an attachment and camaraderie had been too easy. That should have alerted him to how careless he was being, because the fall from grace was devastating.

So, when Azura addressed him again, he stood steely-eyed and guarded. It was too much hurt for one day and Anshel refused to let the man wheedle himself back into his broken heart.

A torrent of profanities threatened to unleash from his mouth. He'd wanted to call the vampire every foul name he knew. He wanted to insult his family and his honor and his manhood and empty out all that anger... because somehow Azura's confession and struggle had done just that. A few sentences was all it took apparently, and Anshel was ashamed by how soft he'd gotten. The king had picked up a shard of his broken heart from off the ground and handed it back to him, and for some reason he took it without hesitation.

"Then explain to me what you were trying to do," Anshel's voice demanded. But his eyes were begging his friend, like a child, not to hurt him again.

[Rima Elaine Donavon]

Once the tasks had been finished with the wounds, and the bullets safely pocketed away, Rima was directed to the small room which would prove to be her residence for the course of her stay, which she fully intended to keep short. She could feel the burning hate in the gazes of the Gallians on her short walk through the halls to her room, and even more so if she poked her head out the door. Tonight, and for the duration of the stay, she’d have to sleep with her door locked, and one eye open, she just knew it.

The feelings of anger and hurt kept rolling off Anshel and crashing into her mind in debilitating waves. Why had she done this to the only person she’d been able to consider a friend… since… Being a human. But those memories were long gone, screened away in the pits of her mind. No, that wasn’t accurate either, especially considering how Thomas and Carmen had kept her occupied, along with work. The artists had come close, but their work was their only true friends, they were acquaintances, near friends, but not quite.

She would've appologized, but it was clear that Anshel was not seeking such.

[AzuraGallu]

Azura's temperament brightened somewhat, though marginally in comparison to how he could be feeling, finally safe and at home. Instead he felt as if he were walking down an isle of broken glass; even the lightest tread causing him discomfort, if not pain.
At the very least, it was enough for him to free his voice from his constrictive throat, words bubbling out before he had the chance to filter through them and weed out the unnecessary bits. He was so eager for Anshel to understand and not hate him, in his haste he divulged more then he thought was appropriate. Even when concerning his own private thoughts and the Blackraven.
"When I rushed outside after smelling your blood, I took Rima down, and was prepared to land a killing blow. I couldn't stand the sight or smell of your blood." He panicked, quickly correcting himself. "What I mean is, it made me upset. Anyway, when I went in, I sensed another presence there. A ghost. I've never seen a possession before, so I hesitated, enough to let him talk to me. When he did, I was so concerned about you...and Melora at that point that I foolishly trusted him to keep the woman in control while I went to go see if the both of you were still alright."
His voice had gotten very quiet, almost timid as he paused in his exuberant tirade to peek a glance at Anshel.
"When the ghost surfaced again, he lied to me, saying that he was somehow stuck in Rima's body. But there he was, right in front of me, demanding that I not hurt her. I didn't trust him...so I shot her a few times just to make sure he wasn't some kind of evil spirit. Turned out he was just a terrible brother, settling for letting his own sister get shot while he stupidly tried to compensate for frightening her into hurting you."
Clearing his throat, he tugged absentmindedly on a strand of his hair, eyes darting heavenward for some kind of easy way to explain, and finding none.
"Regardless, I tried to mitigate the situation, and shed the least amount of blood. I wasn't sure if your pride would allow you revenge on her, so I simply didn't think to kill her outright, as you stated later you wanted."
He looked sullen with the admission that he hadn't followed order, almost as if he was expecting another blow.
"I didn't follow orders," he murmured.

[Doctor]

"No. No you didn't." Anshel confirmed, still processing the recap of events Azura had blurted out in nervous haste.

With some grasp of the information, he surveyed Azura again. He was sullen and that was enough to assure Anshel of his claims. He stepped forward and pulled the man into a hug. It was a stiff, manly embrace that conveyed acceptance, but revealed the sliver of hesitation that was still between them.

Anshel pulled away and kept his hands around Azura's shoulders. "You value me?" He repeated his words back to him. "Seeing me hurt upsets you?"

The vampire nodded an affirmative.

"Then be a pal and watch my back." He took the vampire's arm and stalked through the house with purpose.

Anshel's hand wrapped around the knob of the guest room, twisting it and throwing the door wide open with a force that made the bottom of it bounce off the doorstop. The thick carpet absorbed the power of his steps as he stomped over to the window where Rima stood. Still in shredded, blood-soiled garb, he made a harrowing sight, teeth licked clean, but chin still caked with the blood he vomited up back at the hospital.

With Azura at his back, Anshel felt sure in himself, enough to unload all his emotions without hesitation. He lifted a hand to point rudely at Rima, blood and gunk hooked under his nails.

"I don't care what was going through your head," he hissed. "I don't want excuses or apologies. I want you to stay away from me." His voice dropped low, and his eyes darkened with the threat he posed next, looking a bit like maybe there was a demon inside of him, too. "Keep your claws off me and keep your mind out of mine, or I will destroy you. I swear to Beliath himself you will die weeping."

[MeloraBelikov]

Melora wandered down the hall, pausing every so often to take in a piece of artwork, or try to remember where she was. This hall was darker than the others, or perhaps it just seemed that way because of the way it stretched on forever. It was silent until....wait, that couldn't be right. No one was in the hall with them. Turning the corner to head back, Melora ran into her worst nightmare. Her father stood there, smiling at her sickly, like he had before. Quickly, she drew her gun, but not quickly enough, in an instant he was behind her, holding her by the wrists.

"Melora, you lived. That was a close call, was it not?"

She could hear the smile in his voice, smell blood on him, fresh from another source. Melora struggled, but couldn't free herself. "Let. Go. Of me." She growled.

"See I tried to tell your vampire friend, you'll be perfect dear, you can already growl." He brought her left hand to his mouth, raking his teeth across it. "Your mother would want you to live forever, Melora. You'll never be this weak again. Just relax." He bit into her palm but Melora pulled, ripping the skin of her hand with his teeth. It caught him off guard, and she made a break for it. Down the hall, down the stairs, she'd be safe among the Gallu, for once in her life safer in a number of vampires. She made it down the stairs and into the main area, following the presence of Azura. How the fuck did he get in here?!

Finally, Melora flew through an open door, crashing into Azura, breathing heavily. She tried to tell him what happened, but her Russian thoughts mixed with her English words, and it all came out non-sensical.