Job: College Student, Band Member |
Post by Harper Collins on Jan 7, 2015 5:03:35 GMT
The girl’s pale fingers passed lightly over the small blossom as she looked at it. It wasn’t doing very well, though she couldn’t say why. All of its brothers and sisters were growing just fine, and she’d given them all the same treatment. Perhaps this one was just weak, she couldn’t be sure, but she felt sorry for it. “Don’t worry little guy, I’ll help you out~” She told the flower gently, rolling up her shirtsleeve to reveal her insignia. The flower was small enough that giving it some life wouldn’t really hurt her too much. She ran her hand down the length of her arm and the flowers started glowing bright blue, which told her that her power was now active. She knelt down in front of the flower and leaned in close, singing a soft tune as she allowed the energy to leave her body and pour into the flower.
After about five minutes she sat back on her heels. She could feel her body was heavier than before, but the flower was now standing as tall as his siblings, not to mention his bloom was fuller and more beautiful. She ran her hand over her arm again and the glowing ceased. “There ya go.” She told him with a warm smile as she pushed herself back into a standing position. Her eyes were feeling slightly heavy, but she knew if she just went into the house and grabbed a bite to eat she would be fine. She made sure the shop was locked up tight before she made her way up the stairs and into the house. Her mother and grandmother were out shopping and likely wouldn’t be returning for a while, so she had expected the kitchen to be empty when she entered.
Therefore she wasn’t exactly prepared to find her elder cousin there. She gave a little squeak as her hand fluttered up to her chest. “Zack!” She exclaimed, her eyes still slightly wide. “You scared me.” She told him, her lips twitching up into a smile that would quickly melt off of her features when she saw what state he was in. “What did you get into this time?” She questioned him, her look full of worry and disapproval.
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Zachariah Grants
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Post by Zachariah Grants on Jan 10, 2015 23:57:18 GMT
Battered, bruised, and busted, Zack thumped his wrecked carcass up the back stairs of the home above the flower shop. The hunt had been rough. Unlike plenty of targets who chose to run, this particular fucker decided to attack when he saw a man with knives running up on him. Perhaps the man thought he could beat one man, perhaps he felt cornered and saw no other way than to attack. Zack would never know what his target had been thinking. All he knew was the fight that came thereafter.
They quarreled like animals. The man’s gift was of no use in the face of physical combat, but that didn’t negate the fact he was on the larger side of the target spectrum. In return, the bounty hunter fought dirty. There was no dignity between a hunter and prey and never would there be. He had learned that long ago. A single punch had ruptured Zack’s lip, but the young man paid his target two fold with a bone cutting slash. A sock to the gut was returned with a steel toe kick to the balls. A slug to the jaw was met with the crunch of teeth around knuckles. A kick to the side was seized, and in on swift blow of elbow against knee Zack had ended the man’s ability to walk. The patella was such a fragile thing like that. In the end, the hunter would drag his newest victim unwillingly all the way back to HQ.
In this business, Zack was not unorthodox in methodology. He was paid like all those who dragged someone in and didn’t even have to split the profits this time. He took the check, cashed it for all it was worth, and stashed bills all over his person before finally starting to home. While there was a suggestion to go to a doctor, Zack rebottled that he would just get cleaned up at home, and it was left like that. Those in the business should have learned to care for themselves by then, especially of those Zack’s age, and he assessed he was fine. The man had been through much worse. He could deal with being a little battered and bruised.
Instead of fishing for bandages upon getting home, Zack had gone into the kitchen and started moseying through what was there. He wanted a steak, but all their meat was frozen at the moment. Maybe he’d just settle for cereal. Ears picked when the door opened, but the white haired man took little notice. The girls came and went from the house regularly what with work just downstairs and all. It was only when a squeak hit his ears and his name was vocalized that Zack glanced back meeting Harper’s gaze. While his face was trashed, his eyes remained strong, intense, the gaze the women of the household held by nature it seemed. “Hey Harper,” he replied simply before looking back up into the pantry he’d opened. “How are you? Hope your day has been going well.” Nonchalance was a tool, but it seemed useless when her question came. “Just brought in a rough target,” Zack replied before closing the pantry. “Do you know if we have any steaks thawed?”
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Job: College Student, Band Member |
Post by Harper Collins on Jan 15, 2015 16:13:59 GMT
Her blue gaze held her cousin’s rather sharp one with ease. While Harper was thin, wispy, and physically weak, one could never argue that she was mentally or emotionally weak. She had always been tough in those areas, and years of hardship had only made her tougher. Of course, the same could be said of the elder cousin who stood in front of her. No one in her family could ever be considered mentally weak, they were all rather intense – even if Harper didn’t readily see it in herself. No, she didn’t even realize how harsh her gaze could be, or how harsh it currently was. What in the world was he trying to play at? His face was all busted up and he was asking about steak! Her lips thinned slightly as she pressed them together, and her pale blue eyes seemed to get slightly darker. She wouldn’t tell Zack what to do in terms of a career, but she also would not allow him to walk around the house with a busted face, either.
She took a deep breath, not quite answering him yet as she padded across the kitchen and stuck her hands under the faucet to wash them. She had been digging around in the garden, and she doubted he would want her touching his food or his battered face with dirt under her fingernails. Once her hands were sufficiently clean, she turned to him again. “I think Gramma put some back.” She told him, turning to open the fridge door. Thereafter the girl fell into a squat in front of it and began digging. Toward the back, hidden under several packs of carrots and other vegetables, she found the steaks. She pulled one out. “They were s’pose to be for dinner, but you can have mine. I don’t really like ‘em too much anyway.” She told him, placing the meat off to the side.
She didn’t exactly share the love of red meat that her family did. It wasn’t that she felt bad for the animals or anything – she understood they were prey animals and therefore it was just in their nature to be eaten, she simply just didn’t like it. Of course her mother and grandmother rarely accepted that, so Zack would definitely be doing her a favor by eating the meat that she didn’t really want in the first place. “First things first, though.” She twirled around to face him again, raising her eyebrows. “Ya really wanna eat this around busted lips?” Her gaze was rather intense as the question was posed. Someone outside of their family might have assumed she was actually giving him a choice – that person also would have been wrong. She may as well have said, ‘I’m cleaning up your face before you eat.’ But Zack would know this well, of course.
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Zachariah Grants
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Post by Zachariah Grants on Feb 6, 2015 18:10:22 GMT
The intensity of Harper’s stare was not missed. Though she herself may not have noticed the intensity of her own gaze or personality, Zack knew it. He knew it from all three women of the house, and worse, he knew exactly what she was looking at. The elder cousin fought a sigh; he wasn’t going to play this one off. Honestly he hadn’t expected to, but now he was aware that there had been a minor hope she’d let it be. Like with his aunt and their grandmother, however, there would be no arguing with Harper.
She didn’t readily speak, and for a moment, he was left watching her move to the sink. Leaning back on the counter space, he pressed his own lips together, waiting quietly for whatever she might say next. It was his way as much as her way. As Harper finally answered and began rummaging through the fridge, Zack shifted his stance. “Ah,” was the simple under breath response given. As she finally retrieved one, Zack brightened a bit. “Kay,” he agreed without argument. It was no skin off his back if Harper didn’t like meat. He’d eat a cow if given the option to; Hell he’d tear into a living cow if someone let him! His tiger form had given him the power to, after all.
The words that came after, however, threw out his lightened mood all too quickly. Zack fought the urge to groan as he met Harper’s gaze again. Her question was a command, and he knew it. “Nah I guess not,” he commented unceremoniously. It wasn’t like he could say that he was fine. Not when Harper or anyone else in the family used that particular tone. “Wanna help fix my face?” he asked resting the urge to lick his lips as an afterthought. He wouldn’t be surprised if she seized him by the ears and dragged him to the bathroom, but either way, Zack would end up going there, he was sure.
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Job: College Student, Band Member |
Post by Harper Collins on Mar 9, 2015 19:35:40 GMT
The girl wouldn’t have to wait long for her cousin’s answer, and thankfully it was one she wanted to hear. She had been fully prepared to fight him over the issue if need be, but usually Zack was pretty good about letting her clean him up. His injuries made her anxious, and while she kept it carefully hidden, she could feel the worry bubbling in her stomach over them. Whenever anyone in her family got sick, Harper tended to turn into a bit of a mess. She was as phobic of illness as most people were of spiders or clowns – though in her personal opinion her phobia made a lot more sense. It extended, somewhat, to injuries. None of his were life threatening, but still. They made her want to chew on her lip.
Instead, though, she smiled. “It would be my pleasure~” She stated easily, pushing up off the counter as she walked toward the bathroom. She fully expected him to be following her, well, why wouldn’t he be? He’d just agreed to it, after all. Once she made it into the bathroom, she pointed toward the toilet. “Sit down.” She told him, in an almost distracted tone, as she started preparing everything to clean up his face. They had plenty of medicine, ointments, and bandages. They were used to Zack needing them, and Harper was pretty clumsy herself. After all of the obvious things had been gathered, she turned to him. “Ya hurt anywhere else?” She questioned. She could see his busted lip easily enough, but certain other injuries could be concealed by clothes and the like.
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Zachariah Grants
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