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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"...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.

He slipped back into the room, closing the door behind him. He was perhaps a little pale and wobbly, but he looked completely unharmed. He blinked in surprise at the tidied room. "You don't know how to rest, do you?" he chuckled, a touch of pleasant weariness and teasing in his tone.

He made for the fridge, pulling out a Gatorade and taking slow, measured sips. "I'll order some food in a bit, unless you really need to eat now?" His voice still had a faint dreamlike quality, but more like someone waking from a pleasant dream than the slurring of someone who was ill. Still, he hoped she could hold off a little bit before he had to think about food. He could order food, have a shower, and be feeling up to a meal by the time it was delivered...

She blinked, not at all registering the words in favor of lifting the back of her hand to his cheek gently, "mayhap you shouldst sit, lord," she noted, peering at his eyes. No, he didn't appear injured or ill, but the sudden vagueness was worrisome?

Don't mind her other hand going to his wrist to take his pulse alright? It was habit! "In your swearing and feeding unto the High Lord how much is often taken?" Enough to knock a strong and vital man on his ass apparently?

His pulse was perhaps a little faster than usual, which was normal for him after a feeding, but probably worrisome enough for someone not expecting it. Without thinking, he closed his eyes leaned his cheek against her hand, his energy buzzing along his skin as his control relaxed.

"I'm alright. Jean Claude doesn't take too much from me: he knows I can recover pretty fast. It's just after a full feed and rolling, I just have to ride it out a bit."

"...ah, it is a euphoric effect as well as blood letting?" She mused, certainly far bolder as a healer than a woman as she watched his eyes. "Please lord do sit at least, mayhap you should have rested more before returning..."

He chucked happily. "You could say that, yeah. It's..."

He took a breath and decided to let himself sit at her insistence. "They all have different gifts, but they can all roll you...uh, kind of, overwhelm your mind? It makes feeding more pleasant. With Jean Claude even it's even better."

He took another sip of Gatorade. "I did rest a bit..." he insisted weakly.

"Your gait wandered much as if you were had been drinking from the small distance between door and bed," she noted simply. "Needs must you should have rested more." Obviously.

Huh. "I am glad that such may be pleasant?"

He shrugged.. "Not much of a drinker, but I get what you mean. I promise, though, I'll be fine. I didn't want to go to sleep with a guest waiting on me."

He snickered at her commment. "Me too."

"I am well able to busy myself," she noted not unkindly After all, he could see that for himself. "And need not cause more disruption than has already happened..." People had lives after all?

"Oh! Speaking of busy," he leaned towards his bedside table and retrieved his laptop. "Connection is kind of shit down here, but Jean Claude has been working on it. Especially once Asher got the hang of online shopping and demanded that someone "make it go faster"."

He snickered again, opening the laptop and clicking a few buttons. He eased himself over on his bed and gestured for her to come and sit, clearly still out of it enough that he didn't recognize the possible breach in etiquette. "We can look to see if there's anything you like the look of. For clothes."

She blinked? "Connection to what may I ask?" make feeding go faster perhaps? Connection to the High Lord?

Or...connection to a strange book he was looking at in an entirely different manner than she had been read to books? "Lines I imagine make a market orderly, given how many people there seem to be here?"

At the gesture she blinked again, then eased around the foot of said furniture to espy his book as it seemed he desired?

He gestured again. "Go ahead and sit, your feet are hurt. I don't bite."

He clicked a few more buttons and turned the screen so she could see it better. "The internet. It's..." He faltered, realizing that he had no idea how to explain to someone like her. "This computer. It can talk to other computers all over the world. So if we want to look for, clothes, we can search and find pictures of clothes, or people selling clothes, or how to makes clothes. It's a way to share information quickly."

He made a few clicks and pointed. "Women's clothes. And this is what comes up."

She eased up onto the far corner, expression of 'none would believe my virtue after this' very clear for a moment, swiftly followed by the tired sorrow of 'who was there left to care?'. Ah, but that was not here nor now was it?

"It is...a communication of sorts? Like unto speaking mirrors from tales, or the 'radios' the Kolder had in their machines?" It seemed as good a similie as might be achieved currently?

Oh...dear. There were some rather impractical designs in thus world weren't there?

He grinned. "Yeah, actually. A lot like that." Ish. "And if you don't like anything here, we can ask for specific clothes. Shirts, blouses...I don't see you wanting a tank top or anything like that. But if you describe what you'd like I can try to find it. Or I think I can look up fabric if you want, you just can't feel it until it gets here."

He noticed her change in expression and paused, his own expression mellowing. "You ok?"

She was back to looking at the glass in dismay really, "are there...no weavers nearby? I may walk when I heal, I can trade skill for cloth..." oh dear.

Just oh dear.

Oh. "Ah? Apologies lord, it has been...nigh on two full turns since I have been...social. There us much I had not thought on..."

"What, like bartering or something?" He smiled and shook his head. "It doesn't really work like that here. If anyone does crafting, it's more of a hobby or a side hustle. Most people go to a store where they can get everything at one go and pay for what they want."

He folded the laptop, pushing it to the side. "I'm sorry. I'm sure this is a lot to take in. Just tell me to back off, ok? You won't hurt my feelings."

He offered another friendly smile. "If you're hungry, let me know what you'd like to eat. I'll order us some food, then let you get some rest. Tomorrow I can drive you around maybe to a fabric store."

She...blinked yes. "And who makes that which others purchase?" she mused. She could do that in trade? "Rhystead...we were, as many, able to support ourselves with little to no outside aid?" So this idea that no one was doing the same here was going to...

...take her quite some time.

A fabric store was going to be an utter treasure though. He may wish to fear now.

"It would be a shame to discourage such kindness." And a potentially a travesty. "You wish to aid, my apologies that I cannot think so quickly in kind." And she truly was sorry yes. "I wouldst not think to order another cook, I am able..."

Jason opened his mouth, searching for the words. "So...most places here don't have their own, um, craftspeople or factories. Most of the shit we buy is made on the other side of the world and shipped here for sale. And most people don't have the knowledge or skill to make their own stuff."

He waved a hand helplessly. "It's kind of the same with food. The vampires don't eat food. There's no real kitchen down here. There's a microwave and a fridge, and honestly that's all most of us use. You pick up a frozen meal at the store and pop it in the microwave to heat up. Or you order out at a restaurant."

He paused, then gave a soft laugh. "I'm doing it again. Look, eventually we can get you set up in some place where you can make whatever you want, and even before that I'm sure Jean Claude won't mind you setting up by some of the big fireplaces if that's more your speed."

He met her eyes, a lot of the haziness already having cleared from his own. "But for right now, don't worry about trying to do it all yourself, ok? It's enough to just let yourself be fed and safe for a night, right?"

Blank, shocked staring. The other side o fa whole world. And unskilled people...

...even judging just on those she'd seen coming here, that was a staggering amount of...ineptitude. "They have those who require it in their lands and holdings," she reasoned a touch numbly. "It would be simple to provide, and likely quite...ah, cheap? And would ensure better meals of their own as the donors will have proper nutrition..."

Um.

Just...mind boggling and really really confused now yes. "A stew over a fire and hearth bread is fair easy, and I can ensure such for those who may wish, though a stove is more useful for most other cooking?" Granted, their ideas of stoves may differ.

More than a bit.

"...the lord is kind. I apologize if I have insulted the holdings."

He smiled. "Our worlds are very different. But I wouldn't argue against some real food provided here. Jean Claude might go for it, especially if it's a perk that brings in more donors. You a good cook, then?"

He fought the urge to pat her hand. "Not insulted at all. We just have very different ways of doing things. Basic necessities like cooking or cleaning or...clothes...we have all that simplified here so we can do other things. Things to enjoy or relax after working all day."

She considered that a moment, "I am...a better stillmistress than cook, I cannot promise food fit for feast days, but to keep a person warm and well content, yes? Fancy work with sugars and stacked cakes are beyond me, I was too oft with Dame Rimia in the stillroom learning to take such lesson from Dame Gracia before her eyesight went." It was important that she not...misrepresent her ability before him?

She wasn't sure why but...it was.

"...I was not without leisure moments, lord. The Dames were kind, until there was the new Abbess."

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