Walking the Dog {Open}

[Anya Vasiliev]

So the doctor had insisted Anya kept her leg rested, but the little wrinkly pup she'd recently come into possession of desperately needed a walk. She had a stick with her, and had done for the last week - whilst the bullet had done nothing but go through soft tissue, she'd had to walk with an embarrassing limp.

The pair of them were only going down town since Anya was in the mood for pastries, and the coffee shop below was devoid of anything. It was terrible, the desperate need for pastry was deep seated in her belly, and since the whole MSAD affair, Anya found her cooking mojo - aside from providing for her injured friends, had near vanished. The pup, previously named Alpha, was now called Orpheus, Orphie for short. He seemed happy with who he'd ended up with and trotted by his injured mistress' side. He even liked Dashenka - sitting with her and not being a pest. He'd certainly landed on his feet.

Unfortunately, much to the woman's dislike, she found herself growing sore after only thirty minutes walk, and sat down on a bench, gripping her walking stick and watching the world go by. "I'll have five minutes, then I'll carry on." She grumbled stubbornly. The call of pastries was too much for anyone to wait on. And she needed to check up on Sean and Morgan today, too.

[Josef Muller]

He hurt. Everywhere. But that, he supposed, was what he got for teaching physical fitness classes ten hours a day and using himself as the test subject. He knew there were better things to do. Get an assistant, for one. If Ann hadn’t already had a job, he would have hired her in a heartbeat. But she did have a job, and Josef would just wait until he found the proper candidate—or trained one up. He could have even used the bag more. Hell, it would have even helped if he’d just stretched more. But as it was…well, he’d just have to manage.

Technically, Josef was on apartment patrol. He did like Ben and Yulia, and he liked Ben’s house, but he had promised to move out relatively soon, and several months wasn’t exactly soon. And now that he was sure that he could make it here—or TRY to make it—he had decided it was time to find an actual place to live. So far he’d looked at three places. There were a couple that seemed promising, but for now…he just wanted a break and to let his sore body rest for a while. So he tucked his notebook into his back pocket, bought a smoothie—which was horrible for him, but delicious anyways—and then wandered out. Spotting a bench with a woman outside of the shop, he crossed over to her.

“May I join you?” he asked, nodding to the bench. She was holding a walking stick, which was…slightly concerning from a personal trainer’s view, considering her age, but it was really none of his business. Especially as, to be frank, he was a little jealous of that walking stick right now. “That’s an adorable dog, by the way.”

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya had been hoping that the few minutes rest would get rid of the painful throbbing in her thigh, but instead it seemed to only make it worse. Orphie seemed to pick up on this discomfort and rested his small wrinkly head on her lap, letting out a soft low whine at his mistress' discomfort. Anya pet the little sharpei, letting out a soft sigh and about to throw the stick away in irritation when a gentleman asked to join her.

"Certainly." She smiled politely, moving up a tiny bit, the grip on her stick loosening. It was easier to ignore the still-healing bullet wound in her leg with some human conversation. Orpheus looked up rather cautiously, then realised this stranger was no threat and returned to his relaxed position. "And thank you, he's a sharpei." Anya pet the little puppy. "He's called Orpheus." She added, offering her free hand out to shake.

"I'm Anya." The lady said softly, subtly moving her hand to her aching thigh and kneading it in silence for a moment. She still desperately wanted that pastry, but for now she had no choice but to sit out the pain and curse the battle that had injured her. Maybe her thigh would hurt less if she iced it? She'd paid little to no attention to the doctors advice and didn't want to sit around feeling sorry for herself.

[Josef Muller]

Josef settled down on the bench next to her with a little bit of stiffness himself, silently cursing his own stupidity and conviction that he didn’t need to take it easy. He’d just hit forty for Pete’s sake. He couldn’t keep such a ridiculous pace up anymore, and it was better he learned that now.

“Thank you.” He offered her a faint smile to conceal his confusion of her description of the dog. To him, a dog was a dog. He knew a few breeds, but not a lot. Still, he offered the puppy his hand to smell. He liked dogs, and even if he didn’t know what a “sharpei” was, he was still willing to try to make friends, so to speak. That done, he took Anya’s offered hand.

“I’m Josef.” Another slight smile, and he shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, and your dog.” His brows rose slightly as he noted her hand moving toward her thigh, and his lips turned down into a frown. “Are you all right?” She didn’t look like it. She seemed uncomfortable at best, and in actual physical pain for the worst. And although Josef recognized that it wasn’t his problem and he probably seemed rude for intruding, he rebelled against just ignoring her pain for politeness’s sake. “Do you need something? Ice, or a heating pad?”

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya sadly hasn't reached the "do not be stupid" hurdle of age yet, and this is why she's walking around with a barely healed gunshot wound in her leg and determinedly trying not to limp. Josef should carry her home.

"A pleasure." The woman said politely, shaking the hand and smiling faintly. It was difficult to be enthusiastic when her thigh was burning and throbbing all at once. As for Orpheus? He wagged his curled over tail and licked at the strange man's fingers, before going back to loyally guarding his new mistress. He could sense her discomfort and let out a soft, barely audible whine.

"Ah..." Anya blushed a little, waving her hand in the air. "It's nothing." Staring down at her leg, she clamped her hand down. "I just have a hole in my leg." Because that's nothing, of course. "I don't really remember which is meant to help." She admitted, a little ashamed of her defiance. "I think it was ice, but really, don't worry." An honest smile crossed her face, and she gripped the walking stick as another wave of discomfort flickered up her leg. "I'm just determined to have pastries and give the little one a walk." And horrendously stubborn, you forgot that too, Anya.

[Josef Muller]

Josef probably would carry her home if she only asked. Problem was, he had learned that it was kind of rude to just assume that someone needed that much assistance. Shame, because in his opinion the world would be better if everyone was just a little less proud. Oh well. Like he could claim he was any different.

“Just a hole in your leg?” he asked, a bit of skepticism shown in the raised eyebrows and the slightly thinned lips. How did one get a hole in their leg, anyways? The thought that instantly popped into his head was “gunshot,” but who got shot in Pilot Ridge of all places?

If only he knew.

“Ice is a good step,” he said, although he’d admit that he wasn’t sure what the best cure was for a gaping wound, but he would guess it was a combination of ice, heat, and not putting weight on it. “But you came for pastries?” He tilted his head to the side and watched her for a moment. “Would you be willing to let me help you? I’m a personal trainer.” Or, he corrected silently, was. Oh well. “It’s sort of my job. Besides, I like to help pretty women.”

True in an…odd sort of a sense. He did like to help. The fact that she was pretty (and more importantly female) had nothing to do with it. He was just hoping the flattery might encourage her to actually accept aid. It probably wouldn’t work, but it was a shot.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Anya looked more than a little sheepish at Josef's retort. "A shooting accident." She lied quietly, moving her hand through Orphie's fur and avoiding Josef's gaze. She didn't want to frighten the poor man and make him move towns just because of some crackpot group that were now long gone.

At the offer, Anya went thin lipped and part of her pride flared to tell her that she could manage it on her own. But the pain was far too great for her pride to win out any further, so she managed a smile. "That would be lovely, thank you." She said softly, looking up into Josef's eyes. "I'm not sure where we'd get ice from though." Anya mused, making to get up from the bench, only to hiss as her leg snapped at her, falling back down into the curve of the bench.

A bitter sting in her eyes and a clench in her fist was the only show of her irritation at her weakness. "Stupid." She whispered under her breath, and Orphie tilted his head and let out a sad whine. To him it was clear that his mistress was suffering and he looked over to Josef to help her.

"Lets try that again." She insisted, giving herself second heave off the bench and leaning on the stick. She grit her teeth against the pain. She didn't say anything else in fear her voice would make her sound like some sort of damsel in distress - something she insisted she wasn't.

[Josef Muller]

Josef could tell that the woman didn’t initially want to give in, and he waited, lips pressed together in thought, and watching her to make sure that he hadn’t overstepped his boundaries too much. Well, to be fair, he had overstepped them. But he was just going to have to manage even if he did. He frowned as she sank back down in the seat, and then he shook his head and rose to his feet, placing a hand on her elbow to steady her.

“Not stupid,” he told her. “Impatient. Healing takes time, especially from….did you say gunshot?” So his guess HAD been right. “How the hell did you—never mind. My shop is just over there.” He nodded to the clinic, which was blissfully close. He had things to help her there. He wouldn’t be much of a self-defense teacher if he hadn’t learned some medic skills and gotten some supplies. Admittedly, they were mostly for him, but they could be used to help others. Realizing that he was being a little abrupt, he decided to try to be a little less...focused.

“I have some painkillers, too, if you’d like,” he offered after a moment, in a more gentle tone, guiding her to the shop as he rummaged for his keys in his pocket. He managed to open the door and pushed it open for her to walk in, flicking on the lights on the small little practice room. There were chairs too so she could settle in.

[Anya Vasiliev]

Orpheus looked much happier now the stranger was taking care of his mistress, and he sat up and leapt off the bench as the two walked off. "Thank you for this. You're a very kind man." Anya said gently, moving along with a heavy limp, relying on Josef a little more than she would have liked.

"Ah, the self defence classes? I remember reading about those." Anya looked pleased that she remembered such a thing, and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Don't worry, it wont be happening again. I don't favour shooting much at the best of times." She added smoothly, waiting patiently by the door as Josef opened it. "I'll try not to be too long, I don't want to get in your hair." The woman said politely, heading inside once the door was open.

Letting out a pained groan as she flopped into the nearest chair, Orphie burrowed under the chair and closed his eyes, clearly tired from worrying about his mistress. "Mm. I think painkillers would be wonderful right now." She admitted, putting her hand on her thigh and resting her walking stick against the wall. "Then I'll get back to those pastries. I'm starving." Anya let out a laugh and smiled her best at the man, to try and lighten the mood.

[Josef Muller]

Josef’s lips curved into a slight smile as Orpheus followed them, and wondered if he should get a dog. He certainly liked them. Well, maybe when he found his own apartment.

“I’m not, really,” he told her almost absently, glancing down. And he didn’t view himself as such. She needed help, he could help her. That didn’t make him kind. He was being positively bossy right now.

He seemed, however, quite cheered when she said she’d heard about the classes. It was very heartening. “Have you? I’m glad to hear it! I mean…” He cleared his throat, then shook his head. “Never mind.” He had to be less excitable, he reminded himself, and focus on the fact that she had a bullet wound in her leg. A somewhat healed one, but all the same. He fetched ice from the freezer he kept in the back and a bottle of painkillers from his own stash, then hit the vending machine for a water bottle before returning to her side.

“I have some food here, if you want,” he said, passing the ice to her. He opened the water bottle and set that on the counter next to her, as well as two pain pills. “Cookies, scones, so on. I like to cook, and I bring what I can’t eat here. Exercise builds up an appetite.” He really didn’t think she should be moving that much. “May I ask what exactly you were doing with a firearm in Pilot Ridge, or is that overstepping my boundaries?”

[Anya Vasiliev]

"Believe me, you are. A lot of people would have simply let me suffer alone." Anya said sternly, leaning down to give Orpheus a scratch behind the ears. "So thank you." She added with a slightly warmer tone, happy to take the ice and pack it on her leg, giving a shiver as it stung right through to the pain.

It was sweet watching the man fuss around trying to help her, and she couldn't help but smile in spite of herself. "Yes, I saw the posters and was quite interested. Unfortunately right now I can't do anything." She scowled a little, then took the painkillers with the water, closing her eyes for a long moment. The pain in her leg was starting to dull under the ice, and now she just felt extremely tired. Anya propped herself up and looked around in surprise when he admitted there was food in the room.

"I'd love some food. Thank you, you're far too nice." The russian woman sat up a little more and then felt her mind flare back into action when Josef asked his question. "Scones would be lovely." She breathed, lifting Orpheus up and kissing his little wrinkled nose. He was being positively angelic for a dog.

"And you can ask, I don't mind." Her brain ticked along, constructing a believable lie. "I do clay pigeon shooting at the local range. Someone new had come along with a handgun and was showing off. Unfortunately his enthusiasm hit me in the leg." She smiled believably, as if luring Josef into believing the lie.

[Josef Muller]

Josef really wondered if anyone would have left her to “suffer” alone. In Pilot Ridge? Probably not. And if they would have, it was probably because they were less nosy and frustratingly intrusive as Josef was. Oh well. At least he was helping a little. He offered her a smile in return to hers, then shook his head.

“There are ways to fight with a cane,” he said. “Or crutches. Trust me.” He rolled his eyes at a memory of doing just that. Not an experience he wished to repeat, but he supposed it was only reasonable that attempting a particularly tricky gymnastic move when your body wasn’t prepped lead to a broken leg. That hadn’t been the issue. The mugging attempt had been. Josef had chewed out William for picking out an apartment in the bad part of town for weeks after that. “But thank you for the interest. It’s nice to know the advertising is working.”

He nodded at her request for food, then moved away to fetch the plate that he kept in the back, moving over to her and putting it on the counter next to her. As he did like cooking and he’d had a pretty bad spell lately, there was a lot of it—cookies, scones, biscuits, etc. His specialty was fancy meals, but the results of baking were easier to get rid of. He fetched his own chair, spun it around so the back was facing her and straddled it, studying her with a frown.

“Clay pigeon shooting, huh? That must have been some bad shot.” But he couldn’t think of any other reason for a woman who seemed clean to have a gunshot wound in Pilot Ridge, so he decided to accept it with another nod. “It’s lucky that you’re not worse off, I guess. How long ago? And have you seen your doctor? If it hearts that bad, you should—” He stopped himself, realizing that he was getting far too involved in this, and closed his mouth, looking embarrassed. “Sorry. I know it’s none of my business.”

[Anya Vasiliev]

"I'm sure there are." Said Anya, amused at the idea of becoming something like Daredevil and bashing people to death with a stick. Maybe she should suggest that one to Morgan next time she saw him. "Have you had many people interested?" She added curiously, sipping a little more of the water and enjoying the gradual numbness taking over her leg.

When she was offered the baked goods, Anya daintily took a scone and began to butter it, nibbling on it thoughtfully. "Your concern is very flattering." She said softly, brushing a few crumbs from her lip. "But yes, I have seen a doctor, and it's been... my, nearly a month." She looked surprised at this fact, her eyebrows raised. "And I really don't want to see the doctor again." This time her voice took on a stern tone, and she paused with the scone at her lips.

She knew she'd get told off if she went back. "I decided shortly after getting the injury that I shan't be carrying firearms for any purpose in the future." She took another bite and smiled faintly at Josef. "Did you make these yourself? They're very good." Her smile warmed. "I cook and bake a lot at home. Do you have the recipe for these?"

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she paused in eating and lifted Orpheus on her lap, petting him slowly. Such a kind man, Anya thought, I'll have to thank him for this with something delicious. "Is it alright to give Orphie a little sample? I promise you he has excellent table manners."

[Josef Muller]

“I’ve had a few.” It was enough to keep him living here still in Pilot Ridge even without tapping into William’s money—which he had largely spent on getting set up and was now trying to invest in an apartment. Perhaps he could buy a house, though. He wasn’t sure about that. He’d never actually owned anything in his life except for his clothes and such. He’d even rented an apartment with William. Oh, his credit was good. He just didn’t know if he wanted to go into that. Maybe later. “I’m teaching classes for most of the day now. I guess that means people are interested.” His shrug indicated that he didn’t really know about such matters. And he didn’t. Survival was the goal of the day.

He noticed the stern tone and ignored it. Well, mildly. “You should,” he told her. “But as I can’t force you too and as I don’t think you’d appreciate it, I won’t push you into it. But…” He nodded slowly. “Perhaps not carrying firearms is for the better. I’m sure you’ll recover just fine.” She hadn’t seemed feverish or anything, and she seemed to have a healthy appetite…but he had to stop this for now, because he was not a doctor and he had just met her.

He brightened, however, as she asked about the food. “I do, actually. I can write it out for you, if you’d like.” It was amazing how many people there were here that cooked. He rather liked that. “But go ahead.” He shrugged. He didn’t mind even if it didn’t have good table manners (although the phrase was pretty amusing itself) as he cleaned the whole place top to bottom every day. Yet another thing he had to get help for… oh well. “When did you get your puppy?” he asked instead, changing the subject with a smile.

[Anya Vasiliev]

"Well, that's good." Anya said warmly, pushing her hair behind her ear and offering a tiny piece of scone to Orpheus, who sniffed it, then willingly chewed on it, his small curled tail wagging. "I'll mention it in my next class I teach to see if any of my students would be interested." She nodded thoughtfully. Quite a few of them could do with the discipline of learning self defence. It'd probably help them with their power control too.

Anya appreciated that Josef was concerned, it was true. But she didn't have any intentions of going to the doctor to discuss her inability to sit still and let the wound rest and heal. "Thank you anyway. You're obviously a very kind person." She managed a smile, and patted Josef on the shoulder as if to reassure him that she wasn't annoyed with his concern.

"That would be superb. I love to cook." She smiled again, taking another bite of scone and closing her eyes, appreciating the taste. "Orpheus apparently likes it too. Though he's a dog and he thinks trash can be appetizing, so i wouldn't hold that compliment too dear." Anya chuckled a little, then pressed the ice a little harder into her leg to continue the relief. "I only got him recently as a stray." She admitted, scratching the pup's ears. "He's such a dear little thing though. And he gets on well with my cat." She nodded, looking over at Josef curiously. "You have any pets?"