Khemrys (
homeless_pard) wrote2021-12-06 10:25 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
A flight long in the running...
Who: Khem and a new world!
When: Start of canon smash here!
What: Terrified kitty arrives in the vague area of St. Louis.
Tired. She was so bone weary that had someone told her that she'd die but it would be in a bed, she might honestly accept that trade at this point. The pads of her feet were leaving red marks along the rough stone she scrambled and clawed haphazardly upward, ever upward, ever away, through so many terrains they all blurred together in a haze of color and snatched hunts.
She should have lost him. Should have, and there had been times over the past turns where she had almost believed him gone. Finally shaken from her trail and naught more than a shadow left in her mind to spur her onward. Any hunter would eventually give up on game when coursing it had run to long...
...surely?
Ah, but she'd little experience with hunters, those near the abbey were more farmers with the occasional lord's man, and even had they needed care it was likelier that they would seek tending from their own ladies. AN isolated abbey was not easy to seek out when ill.
Still, it had seemed logical that he'd stop. At the Wastes perhaps.
At the Falls.
At the turn of blasted scree to strange, new lands past where tales she knew ended...
...and yet here she was, his shadow practically nipping at her heels. She was flagging and he hadn't stopped. This hunt was soon to end, as any chased thing knew in time, escape simply wasn't going to happen. Mayhap it would kinder, cleaner, to miss a jump. To tumble and not reach for ledges as she went down.
Kinder...but she shrank from it none the less. A little further...
...a little further...
...until there was naught left but sheer walls and a deep, dark crack between. A cave, not a passage. No exit. A tomb for one hard worn girl who had thought, foolishly, that finding fur had granted her freedom. And so it was to end.
If he hounded her even here, his bootsteps harsh on the stones behind her, then she was determined he would know who he was to slay. Not some cat that had teased him, not some furred prize, but as a woman. If he was to slay her, let him slay a woman and be haunted by her face. An unkindness perhaps, but she was far past ability to feel for him.
To wonder if she could explain, or beg her safety somehow.
No, let him have a flickering pang of conscience as he did his fell deeds. And so as the mouth of the cave darkened she set her back to the stone, fingers rather than claws lifted to shade her face, skin covered in long, dark hair and gooseflesh that gave some semblance of proper depth to her too-thin frame.
Let him slay a woman.
And yet, as she watched the dull, metallic sheen of a dart gun rising, it wasn't pain she felt burn through her chest but warmth where her single item, the amber stone on a string about her neck graced to her by Gunnora, flickered like sunlight and the wall at her back faded to naught so that she was falling...
...falling...
...falling...
...there was a brief scream, she couldn't help it, as her shoulders struck beaten grass and tree roots, shock making the sound choke off as abruptly as it had started. A heartbeat, two, as she stared up at tangled tree limbs and dappled light she shouldn't be seeing then she was sitting up with a gasp, trying to espy the Hunter.
And he was not there. Somehow, somehow...he was not there, and she sat in a wood far younger than the one before the stones she'd climbed, hands and feet still bleeding harshly from the abuse she'd pounded into them over the many moons of travel. She was alone and she was...naked. The stone upon her breast cooling from it's earlier warmth. She'd give thanks somehow, later. For now she shivered back into fur in a blur of mist and achingly, carefully, hauled herself up into a tree to try to determine where she might be.
A how would take much longer no doubt, but...
...rest seemed a blessing, and she was still so very, very tired.
With luck there would be no fresh, strange beasts to contest her claiming the crook of a tree, there to watch, or likelier pass into blessed unconsciousness.
When: Start of canon smash here!
What: Terrified kitty arrives in the vague area of St. Louis.
Tired. She was so bone weary that had someone told her that she'd die but it would be in a bed, she might honestly accept that trade at this point. The pads of her feet were leaving red marks along the rough stone she scrambled and clawed haphazardly upward, ever upward, ever away, through so many terrains they all blurred together in a haze of color and snatched hunts.
She should have lost him. Should have, and there had been times over the past turns where she had almost believed him gone. Finally shaken from her trail and naught more than a shadow left in her mind to spur her onward. Any hunter would eventually give up on game when coursing it had run to long...
...surely?
Ah, but she'd little experience with hunters, those near the abbey were more farmers with the occasional lord's man, and even had they needed care it was likelier that they would seek tending from their own ladies. AN isolated abbey was not easy to seek out when ill.
Still, it had seemed logical that he'd stop. At the Wastes perhaps.
At the Falls.
At the turn of blasted scree to strange, new lands past where tales she knew ended...
...and yet here she was, his shadow practically nipping at her heels. She was flagging and he hadn't stopped. This hunt was soon to end, as any chased thing knew in time, escape simply wasn't going to happen. Mayhap it would kinder, cleaner, to miss a jump. To tumble and not reach for ledges as she went down.
Kinder...but she shrank from it none the less. A little further...
...a little further...
...until there was naught left but sheer walls and a deep, dark crack between. A cave, not a passage. No exit. A tomb for one hard worn girl who had thought, foolishly, that finding fur had granted her freedom. And so it was to end.
If he hounded her even here, his bootsteps harsh on the stones behind her, then she was determined he would know who he was to slay. Not some cat that had teased him, not some furred prize, but as a woman. If he was to slay her, let him slay a woman and be haunted by her face. An unkindness perhaps, but she was far past ability to feel for him.
To wonder if she could explain, or beg her safety somehow.
No, let him have a flickering pang of conscience as he did his fell deeds. And so as the mouth of the cave darkened she set her back to the stone, fingers rather than claws lifted to shade her face, skin covered in long, dark hair and gooseflesh that gave some semblance of proper depth to her too-thin frame.
Let him slay a woman.
And yet, as she watched the dull, metallic sheen of a dart gun rising, it wasn't pain she felt burn through her chest but warmth where her single item, the amber stone on a string about her neck graced to her by Gunnora, flickered like sunlight and the wall at her back faded to naught so that she was falling...
...falling...
...falling...
...there was a brief scream, she couldn't help it, as her shoulders struck beaten grass and tree roots, shock making the sound choke off as abruptly as it had started. A heartbeat, two, as she stared up at tangled tree limbs and dappled light she shouldn't be seeing then she was sitting up with a gasp, trying to espy the Hunter.
And he was not there. Somehow, somehow...he was not there, and she sat in a wood far younger than the one before the stones she'd climbed, hands and feet still bleeding harshly from the abuse she'd pounded into them over the many moons of travel. She was alone and she was...naked. The stone upon her breast cooling from it's earlier warmth. She'd give thanks somehow, later. For now she shivered back into fur in a blur of mist and achingly, carefully, hauled herself up into a tree to try to determine where she might be.
A how would take much longer no doubt, but...
...rest seemed a blessing, and she was still so very, very tired.
With luck there would be no fresh, strange beasts to contest her claiming the crook of a tree, there to watch, or likelier pass into blessed unconsciousness.
no subject
He tried to send out some calming energy, knowing that at least it had felt the touch of his power before.
"Hey, it's ok, you don't have to freak out. I just...if there's a hunter or not, we should clear out of here before dark." He paused, thinking for a moment. He was a stranger, after all. "You don't have to tell me where you live. I can take you anywhere you feel safe."
no subject
...best to know.
I have no home. Nor clothing.
They would see if that admission gave her reason to flee.
no subject
His expression became more gentle. "If you want, I can take you somewhere safe. No one will bother you and there's people who can figure out what to do next."
Then he smirked, but warmly. "If you think you'll be ok by yourself for a bit, I usually keep a spare change of clothes in my car. I can run and get them for you?" If the leopard can shift, it would be that much easier to get out of this park without causing a scene. And while he's on the petite side for a man, clothing is clothing.
no subject
She considered that for perhaps longer than was comfortable for them both before carefully spelling out, Your word to the welcome, and lack of harm? If he swore, then yes.
But she'd not budge an inch on anything else without that oath.
no subject
But, he was Jean-Claude's pomme-de-sang: if he asked for protection for someone, he had little doubt that Jean-Claude would give it.
And something in those fearful eyes reminded him of far too many people he loved.
"Anyone who tries to hurt you will go through me first. OK?"
no subject
Clothing would be a boon young lord. She'd wait.
no subject
He nodded, still trying to shake off the sensation. "I'll be back. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes, ok? Just stay hidden."
He took off at an easy jog and was soon lost in the underbrush, moving with unnatural grace through the trees. Maybe it seemed longer to him because he was trying to hurry without demonstrating his true speed, but it seemed to take forever to get to his car, wrench the gym bag with his spare full moon gear from the trunk, and hurry back to where the leopard hid.
He would be ashamed at how winded he was if he wasn't so distracted by the situation. Clearly he hadn't been working out enough since cutting his hours at the club...
He offered the gym bag with a weak, flushed smile. "Here you go," he panted softly.
no subject
After all, mayhap some, the foolish, were not aware of what such promises could mean...
There was a relieved little chirrup when he returned though, and a pointed look that she wasn't going to do anything until he turned around. A brief moment, no sound of sliding bone or wetness, and there was the sound of the zipper being fiddled with until she figured out the fastener on the bag and got herself dressed.
For some semblance of 'dressed' that meant the young lord had broad shoulders and wider hips than her own so the strange clothing was loose and slipping even as she had to hold the waist with still damaged hands. "My thanks lord," she offered softly once covered.
He was expecting the milk skinned girl with unbound hair that went past her knees yes?
no subject
He didn't know what he had been expecting, but when he heard the soft, feminine voice, he glanced over his shoulder and couldn't help but stare for a long moment.
She clearly needed a good meal, and for some reason even shifting wasn't healing her bloodied hands, but...she was gorgeous.
"Uh...you're...welcome...?"
He still was staring, mouth agape as he tried to formulate thought.
Are you ok?
What's your name?
Where are you from?
Do you have a boyfriend?
"I...do you need a hand? Um, to the car? I didn't have spare shoes, sorry..." he stammered on helplessly, still unable to really stop looking at her.
no subject
Ah, but, "I do not know what a car may be lord, is it your steading?" His home? A caravan even perhaps? Who was she to know, the word had no meaning in those she knew! "If we move slowly I may keep pace."
no subject
Lord? Steading...?
He could feel his confusion matching her own.
"I'm...not a...lord?" She kind of reminded him of...Requiem. It would make sense for a vamp, but clearly she wasn't a vampire...
He took a deep breath, trying to roll with how he felt he'd speak to Requiem if he'd forgotten everything about the past couple centuries. "Transportation. We can go slow, but the terrain is a bit rough until we get to the trail."
He moved slowly, making sure to keep a close watch on her progress, which certainly wasn't a chore.
"I...uh...I'm Jason, by the way. Jason Schuyler."
no subject
Transportation sounded lovely, honestly, she'd had naught but her own feet for years now. "Transport," she sighed with the same longing some did the term 'hot shower' or 'designer dress', "wouldst be welcome." Utterly.
Little did she know what terror it might be.
Oh. OH. She'd been utterly remiss...she paused, sweeping into a graceful, and deep, curtsy despite the fact she was in borrowed sweats. Her free hand more than illustrated how skirts should puddle to keep the action from being utterly ridiculous, "apologies lord Jason. I am Khemrys, late of Rhystead Abbey if it pleases."
no subject
After an excruciating few seconds he reached out a hand to help her up. "Don't...you don't have to do that for me," he muffled, "Khemrys."
A strange name, but it rolled pleasantly off the tongue. He shook off any additional thoughts that tried to follow. He was going to ask about this abbey that she was apparently from, since the only time he'd heard of one was from The Sound of Music movie, but he figured it was best to wait for those questions.
He gestured to her bloodied hands and feet "Are you sure you're ok to walk? You shifted but you're still hurt."
no subject
Ah, she looked down at her feet a moment at his question, "apologies, I have been running harsh for some time. Like there are damages I've yet to feel proper, but I will treat myself when I am able, I'll not burden you."
no subject
Not what he was going to think about right now.
He gave an amused chuff. "You're really not a burden." He paused, knowing how alarming it could sound to a young woman, alone and hurt with a stranger, especially considering the thoughts he'd just banished from his head. "I can carry you, if you don't mind it. I'm a lot stronger than I look. There's no reason to push through if you're hurting."
He made sure his expression was the very picture of pure intent.
no subject
...no. No. Carried. Carried.
She'd certainly been a child? Far too young to fear, yes. She shivered, convulsive, but...what if she angered him by truly being slow? "If it is best," she managed, distantly proud the words didn't choke her.
no subject
He leaned down, placing his arms just far enough that she could move into his lift rather than just grabbing her up. "It's ok," he assured.
no subject
no subject
The trees and underbrush finally opened to a wide gravel path that cut through the trees. He continued steadily, putting his back to the sun as his shoes crunched through the gravel. More people were beginning to appear on the trails, especially after turning a corner to empty onto the paved main trail. Most eyed the pair curiously and continued on, with a few slowing to ask if everything was alright. Jason simply smiled and explained that his friend had slipped on some rocks and got a little scraped up. A natural performer, it was easy to be charming and put them at ease.
Just ahead, the path can be seen ending in a large, cleared area filled with lights. "Car's just ahead and I'll set you down, ok?"
no subject
Every moment, honestly, she assumed someone would say this was wrong, or would decry her as foreign and evil and call the hunt once more. Instead people seemed...awkward. She started apologizing, quietly, to, to each person that approached them? She did not know the ruse, but the soft words seemed to reassure as well? "yes, please." Yes, ground. Firm ground would be nice...the lights were getting a look though. They were...like way stones. Huh.
no subject
He was digging his keys out of his pocket while he gave her a moment to adjust to the hard pavement under her feet. He was glad he'd recently cleaned his car out and didn't have to clear a spot for her. He opened the passenger door for her. "M'lady," he said brightly.
no subject
Likely it was teasing on his part, but it held far different meaning in her own understanding, meaning and connotations that he certainly had not asked...
"Is...such common in your lands?" She managed, hands balling, "to lay claim so easily?" Or boldly, to strangers?
no subject
"...what?"
A clear clash of cultures, this, coupled with modern concepts of historical speech that comes from movies and TV shows. But his confusion is written all over his face.
no subject
"It does not seem you meant the harm, but please, such terms are not for the likes of myself." Now to look away from him, yes, very much so. And...stare down into the transport. It was odd not to look up at a wagon bench honestly.
no subject
And you're fucking it up, you idiot.
He took a clearing breath and gestured again towards the car, if a little helplessly. "If you want to get in, we can get going."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...