homeless_pard | A flight long in the running...

Entry tags:

jason au,
starter

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.

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"I've now time to attempt your...snacks...without leaving blood at each touch," she admitted wryly, shifting in the chair to tuck her feet carefully under herself. "But if others come I shall try not to panic?" While he was away?

Likely she'd end up curled in the chair itself and dozing more than anything!

He chuckled. "Don't worry if you don't like them. I'll try to find something better to eat when I head down to see Jean Claude."

He went to the closet, pulling out a blanket and handing it to her. "Here. You can sit here or have the bed. I have some calls to make so I'll step out for awhile. Just try to rest: I won't let anyone bother you."

He gave her a comforting grin and reminded, "There's bottled water in that fridge, too, if you really don't like the Gatorade. Just try to drink a little of it, ok? I promise it helps." He made for the door, stopping again at his closet for something before slipping out the door and closing it gently behind him. He carefully wrapped a snagged sock on the door knob; no one would be bothering her.

"Any food not caught while running is a boon lord," she admitted quietly. Granted, the taste of preservatives was going to make her rub her tongue when he was gone. Dear Powers what did these people do to their food?! The drink was easier, it was a salt slurry, just colored quite oddly!

And yes, she'd be passing out, curled almost as much as the cat that was her other form under the blanket on the chair!

Edited 2021-12-11 04:53 (UTC)

It was quiet for some time. Jason had moved down the hall but within eye and earshot of the door to call Nathaniel and fill him in, and before he knew it he could feel Jean Claude's call. He'd scurried off to Jean Claude's room and before long he was trailing just behind his master like an eager puppy.

Jean Claude gestured to the sock as he waited for Jason to open the door. "Was that truly necessary, my wolf?"

Jason quickly pulled the sock free of the door and opened pushed it open. "I didn't want anyone to barge in...you'll see what I mean. Hold on a sec."

He slipped into the room, stopping just before the chair. He didn't want to startle her like in the woods. "Khemrys? Khemrys? Hey, it's Jason: I'm back with Jean Claude."

She had been sleeping deep, but fitfully, and the words made her jump, the odd position making her mewl quietly as she jammed a shoulder. Ack. Still, she managed to blink eyes at him and sigh, "my apologies lord..." she had not meant to sleep so deeply.

He'd still startled her...damn. But probably not as much as if he'd touched her again.

"You don't have to apologize, Khemrys. I said you could rest." He glanced back at the door. "Jean Claude? This is Khemrys. Khemrys, this is Jean Claude. He's the Master Vampire of St. Louis."

A pale figure entered the room. Cooling power seemed to radiate from him, and even with his long, dark hair finger combed from sleep and wearing a simple robe, he was breathtaking. The figure inclined his head gracefully at her. "You are welcome here. I trust my wolf has shown adequate hospitality?"

Jason said nothing, but gave Khemrys a reassuring smile.

"Jason tells me there is some confusion regarding your arrival here. Would you care to tell me your story?" His words were calm and kindly, yet commanding: he was clearly used to being obeyed.

She blinked, looking from Jason to Jena Claude and doing the only sensible thing honestly; she flowed off the chair and into a deep curtsy, the draped blanket certainly making a far better picture than her earlier obeisance to Jason had been. "High Lord," she greeted softly.

SHE DID NOT DEAL WITH HIGH LORDS IN HER LIFE NO.

Oddly his general appearance didn't seem to phase her, though her eyes stayed mostly on the floor after a quick check for the hint of taint. No firm, likely not always kind, but not Shadow touched. He was hardly clothed so staring was certainly not called for and she had no desire to be rude.

"From which point would you care for high lord?" Her tale was...a long one. And like any truly well trained young lady, she could stay in the curtsy comfortably for hours for such telling.

The corner of Jean Claude's lip made the slightest inclination to smile. He would relish the title of High Lord from her, especially considered where he'd started and the centuries it took to gain this status.

His long, graceful fingers beckoned her upwards. "Rise, Lady. You may avail yourself of the chair as I can see that you are injured." His gently accented voice was enticing, even without intentionally using his power. "Please, from whichever point you are most comfortable. Perhaps you may start with where you are from."

She gathered the blanket gracefully given permission and settled back on the edge of the chair, trying to think where best to even...begin. It had been such a long road..."I am late come of Rhystead abbey, in the north of High Hallack. In my...flight...I left the land of the Dales and through the Wastelands into the older lands far beyond. Texts call it Escore, though it is not a land open to travel or trade and such may no longer be it's name," she sighed.

"I do not know the lands and bounds of Escore, I but ran, but the chase was ending. I found myself in a cave with the Hunter blocking the sun at the door when the stone at my back faded and I fell. Lord Jason found my near the rocks I fell upon after." That was...as best she knew?

"Tales tell of gates in the world but they are tales far older than I, the most recent of such was in the Kolder war, and controlled by the enemy, how such might lead to whereever this my be I do not know."

Jason glanced questioningly at Jean Claude, but as usual there was absolutely nothing to glean from the master vampire's expression.

Jean Claude listened, allowing the young woman to speak at her pace until he perceived she had finished. "I cannot say that any land you have named is known to me. From your description, you may well have passed one of these "gates". But I am afraid that to the best of my knowledge, gates and portals to other realms are merely fiction here. Do your tales tell of return again through such gates?"

"...they do not tell of leaving my world at all high lord," she admitted quietly. "Always to that I have heard. Barring the Kolder, but they had...machines? And I saw no such metal in that cave." So she had no honest idea really.

"I didst not examine the stones that I landed upon, I cannot say if they are etched or marked." Her failing, she was aware.

Jean Claude offered her a kind smile. "If you were cornered after a long pursuit and suddenly transported, I should hardly expect you to be carefully studying the stones beneath you. But if you wish I can send Jason to examine the area more carefully."

Jason nodded, not bothering to voice agreement: if Jean Claude told him to go, he wasn't going to argue. But his curiosity over Khemrys ensured he would make the trip as fast as possible if he had to.

Jean Claude turned to Jason. "You say you found no sign of her pursuer?"

"Nothing. I kept watch while she rested, but I didn't see or smell anyone."

Jean Claude returned his gaze to Khemrys. "I believe it is a safe assumption that you were not followed through whatever gate brought you here, but you are welcome to our protection here until you are certain or should you decide to try to seek passage back to your realm."

"It has been such that inattention would likely cost my life," she admitted quietly. "And so the apology." Failing should by rights have killed her.

Even here.

Seek return passage? There was an honest, if tired, look of fear on her face at that statement. She had naught but the hunt to return to honestly. Mayhap that was why she had been cornered, not having any true place to aim her feet toward. "I wouldst fear the Hunter should I return," she admitted quietly. "If there is need of a Stillmistress...?" Here?

At all?

Jean Claude nodded at her self-assessment: if you could not recognize potential fatal mistakes and correct them, you would rightfully not survive long.

The fear showing plainly on her face at his suggestion made him pause. "I am afraid you will find our city very different from what you left behind: there is seldom need for a stillmistress, and less so amongst my people."

He felt Jason move behind him, anxious energy building like a child's. He closed his eyes for a moment with the whisper of a smile on his lips. "But of course, you are still welcome here. I would not send back if danger awaits you. I am sure Jason will not mind offering you his room until we can find a more permanent arrangement."

"And Jason will of course be more than comfortable in the donor quarters until you are comfortably settled elsewhere," he added quickly. He knew better than to let the young wolf to his own devices, especially with a girl such as this.

"It is fair startling," she agreed softly. "And if it best I may seek to head...elsewhere? But I do not wish to go back. I am not so brave a creature as that." No, not by far. It was always best to be honest with such as Jean Claude.

Bets indeed.

"Nor may I fight. Among my training I have sworn oaths to heal and aid." In case his lands were ever under attack?

Ah, but still...at the true offer she smiled, an expression far brighter than it seemed it should be "For the welcome of the hearth lord, my thanks. For the offer of the board, my gratitude. My skills to aid as aught I'm able whilst under the guesting." much as it had earlier with Jason and his promise the aid seemed to still and wait, reality listening intently to her own promise in kind.

That done, though, "a cot is all I may ask. None should be displaced for such as me." No, far from. "Should there mending or cooking needing I am well skilled?" If her herbcraft and simples were not needed?

Jean Claude coolly raised his eyebrows, an elegant gesture. "A healer as well? That we do have a need for from time to time." Most minor injuries at the Circus didn't need any aid, especially for his vampires, but the lycanthropes and the human donors rarely had the luxury of someone to patch them up, as Lillian and her people were stretched thin enough caring for the badly wounded.

"We have many others here who will fight if needed; you would be welcome to see to their well-being in return. Those that live here rarely require a cooked meal, though." With the exception of Jason and a few others, most just used the donor rooms to rest after a feed and then went about their lives.

"And I feel you will be more comfortable with the privacy of Jason's room than in any of the other areas beneath the Circus. He will not mind." He turned slightly to address Jason without turning away from her. "Will you, my wolf?"

Jason shook his head quickly. "No, not at all."

Jean Claude smiled. "I trust we can consider the matter settled for now? Jason can show you around during the daylight hours. And Jason, be sure to introduce her to Lillian: perhaps they can make their own arrangements. I am afraid, Lady, that I must begin my evening, if Jason and I might leave you for a short while?" He'd come directly at Jason's insistence, and he was growing impatient for his breakfast.

She...blinked? "It is the task of a stillmistress..." she had not realized such was not implied or not. "My apologies for not being as clear as needed. Healing, tending the sick, medicinals, as well as any and all other use of herbs is under the tasks of such as I..." Mayhap she'd need to make a list?

They would see what may come it seemed.

She actually flushed a touch, glancing at Jason, "a kindness," she noted softly. "My apology for unseating you from your home lord Jason. I will be happy to tend any in need, as well as attend your healer Lillian at any stated convenience." As a matter of course?

Yes.

"Apology for delaying you High Lord." There was that smooth, dipping curtsy again as he chose to dismiss her!

Jean Claude offered a bow in return. "See she is comfortable before you leave, Jason. I will wait in my room."

Jason grinned brightly. "Be right there." He turned that smile back to Khemrys. "So you're staying for awhile, then? And I know Jean Claude kind of threw decisions around, but I really don't mind you taking my room. The donor rooms are just down the hall, so I'll still be here. I mean, if you need anything."

She kept her head bowed until Jean Claude's exit, then rose to perch on the chair once more, "I might still feel ill at ease to displace you so after such kindness," she admitted quietly. "If there are rags, cloth ends? I may at least make you blankets and the like for your rooms in return?" And scraps could be used to make herself proper clothing?

Likewise..."how am I to know when I am needed? May I venture forth without fear here? Shouldst I report to the kitchens or the like?"

He snickered. "Slow down, Khemrys, you can barely walk without pain. I have to see to Jean Claude and then I'll come back. Take some time to rest and heal up, ok? And I can try to get you up to speed on the Who's Who of preternatural St. Louis."

He scanned her perched in the chair in her too-large borrowed clothing. "Maybe we can find some clothes online that you like and order them so you have something more comfortable to wear."

"...if I need not walk overly much I may easily sit a stool," she pointed out with complete honesty. Idleness was not so much a thing in her world, even the ladies of breeding were at tasks...

Ad there was honest shock at his suggestion, "bespoke clothing? No, no lord Jason if there is cloth at all I shall have clothing worth the passing in a day..." Ah, but he was keeping the High Lord waiting, she waved her bandaged hands slightly, almost shooing, "but you are awaited."

He opened his mouth to protest, but she was right, and Jean Claude wouldn't be happy if he delayed his breakfast twice in one evening.

He would just have to explain online shopping versus the cost of the craft industry. But later.

"Ok, yeah. But...just rest. I'll be back in a bit."

He flashed a warm grin and slipped out of the room, closing the door gently and replacing the warning sock.

And she would...set his room to rights? Easing carefully around on her injured feet but she was not such to sit still unless she needs must and she had no small craft to occupy her hands! No maid, even paid well, could have set the sheets and blankets better and the like!

She did take the time to secure the ends of the blankets through the string belt of the sweats she was wearing so the blanket draped as a proper shawl over shoulders, the better to keep modesty with such a large shirt!

He wasn't gone terribly long. He'd made sure that he fed Jean Claude well and it had taken longer than he'd hoped to get back to check on Khemrys. Jean Claude happily took what he'd offered and firmly reminded him to recover a moment before sprinting back to his guest. He smiled blearily in agreement, but he knew Jean Claude was amused. Especially when he left saying, "I trust I am leaving you as such that you will be the perfect gentleman to our guest this evening?"

As he could barely move, he waved a thumbs up in Jean Claude's general direction.

By the time he was shuffling back to his room, he was a little more clear headed. He gave the door a gentle knock. "Khemrys, it's Jason. Can I come in?"

His bed was sorted, she had not opened drawers to refold anything but she had corrected the hang of things in the open closet? And repacked the first aid kit neatly after examining each item...much as she's sorted the fridge and wasn't the cold box a wonder?

Ah, but then she had run out of things she dared to do without permission so there was a "of course lord," at his soft call.

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