homeless_pard | Guilty Pleasures

Entry tags:

jason au

Guilty Pleasures

Who: Khemrys, Raphael, Richard, Anita
When: A week or so after Khem moves into Lillian's spare bedroom to spare Anita's nerves.
What: Reconciliation. Ostensibly. (Not).

Khemrys woke with a dark feeling, hands shivering as she made her morning tea and passed Lillian a mug of soothing tisane. There had been more injuries recently, and many of the rats were uttering darkly that it was because Anita had all but said she didn't care for the rats now that they were sheltering Khemrys. As a consequence those that were probing at the St. Louis area were striking the rats first, many of whom still had non-shifter family or friends. A community, the wererats. It wasn't bad enough yet that Rafael had come to her to approach Jean Claude but she and Lillian were pulling full shifts at the hospital, twelve and twelve, that often bled far longer. Hence barely managing a meal before one or the other of them needed to sleep.

But today...today felt different. Something that had been hovering and vague was narrowing dark attention upon her specifically. It was certainly far from reassuring...but it was relieving in the fact that it meant that such may not be bleeding frustrations upon those who'd been kind to her. Just as she was trying to resign herself to whatever this was there was a knock on the apartment door, Rafael letting himself in after a moment, "ah, Khem...we've got silver..."

She gasped, dropping her mug and not even bothering to throw on a coat or shoes as she tore toward the hospital. The soonest she could get hands on the poor injured shifter the better in this case, they'd learned that in the past week at least? If she got them soonest silver didn't kill, nor did it even truly scar with her and her knowledge of drawing poisons.

At least awakening to power had been useful in some regard?

Rafael snorted and scooped her up within a few feet, he could get there FASTER and he had no idea where her shoes were. Fool woman. "I hear your shop misses you..." he noted, no reason not to have a pleasant conversation after all!

"And I it," she admitted, barely paying attention. "It has been a home, but it is the High Lord's in truth, no matter it was also funded by a heart's brother and my lord Jason."

"Homes are important though," he sighed, nodding to one of his that opened the door for them. "We're working on it okay?" If nothing else he'd approach Jean Claude about buying the damn thing if it came to it, he knew what assets were worth indulging after all. And damned if she hadn't been compounding medicines based on sending runners to her manager there...

"Stress not lord," she noted softly as he set her down by a bed, "all resolves itself in time. And homes may change." It was a distracted statement though as she knelt by the bleeding young man to see to his arm. Shot. A bullet. She was learning to hate this world's weapons, as if death were hard to ensure with lesser weapons! Feh! "He'll not lose the arm but it will take some hours, please ask others be seen to unless they too arrive silver-shot..." she murmured, cleaning the wound after sending the boy into a deep slumber.

"Of course, don't you dare drop on us." She'd done that a time or two since she'd started staying with them, pushing a new power too far...so a lot of people fed her snacks randomly and checked in on her just in case...

"Aye..." she didn't truly hear him and he resigned himself to getting a meal into her soon.

Far later the room went oddly quiet, Rafael was physically blocking the door baring his teeth in a display any rat would be wary of...but the warm, rich voice past him didn't seem to care. "I just want to meet her."

"She'd busy, Richard. Sit and wait if you really want."

"You can't stop me..."

"Is that a challenge?"

Khemrys blinked at the menace in that tone, rising and wiping her hands before touching her friend's shoulder, "who has come lord?"

"Lord?" Richard snorted, looking over the man's shoulder at her then blinking. "You're a stick of a thing aren't you?" How was this woman any kind of issue enough to twist Anita harder in the triumvirate?

"Respect to our healer," Raphael hissed.

"Healer huh?" the wolf reached forward to pinch Khemrys's chin, truly puzzled and trying to just...understand. No one was talking to him until Anita had called, teary, last night...

Khemry's eyes swam to gold in shock before she stepped back, she had been told since her arrival that she need NOT allow handling! "I have granted you no such familiarity lord!"

"...what has been given my wolves is mine," he noted gently. "I need to see."

"I granted no such to a wolf, lord, but to a man who wouldst not hand me to another so casually."

"Casual huh?" he mused, eyes stormy as he withdrew his hand. "And you're okay with others calling him?"

"It is his chosen role, lord, as he accepts my own boundaries I accept his choices within reason."

"Reason huh?" he sighed. "He's been...upset since you moved in here."

"Was I to stay where I caused such unrest to a woman who thinks herself a Power?" she countered gently, trying not to feel hurt that Jason might have sent this man.

"Thinks?" Richard rumbled dangerously.

Ah, yet another of the woman's toyed and twined hearts. She had grown lax in her words since living somewhere safe against such. "Aye, but certainly it is not why such as you came?" she noted, gratefully for Rafael's arm still between them.

"I came..." he sighed, "because she doesn't have your number."

...what? She blinked, "I don't understand."

"She's upset at the harm this is causing to our pack, so..."

"And so?" she sighed.

"So, here's her number. Please call her," he sighed, passing a piece of paper.

She accepted the slip, peering at it, "is this an order then lord?" Or attempt at such?

"...what? No. Just...I don't like either of them unhappy. My pack or Anita."

Ah, and so he sought her to broker peace though it had been the woman's words not her own that caused such a rift. "I see. Your concern is a kindness unto them."

"Kindness...right," he sighed, glanced at Rafael, then headed back outside.

The Rat King sighed and glanced over his shoulder at the healer, "are you alright?"

"That was their...third?" she mused.

"Yeah, that fucked up triumvirate of Power crap. Messes with his head. He used to be a decent guy, he still tries but..." yeah. "The power helps him hold the wolves safe, but he's strong enough to do that on his own now I think."

"One may hope," she sighed. "My thanks for the shield."

"Hey, part of my job girl. Now, that number..."

"I will call," she admitted, making the man wince. "I felt threatened today lord. There is ill intent and it bears upon me like the wind. Best to see what has been planned."

"Hell."

She chuckled as he pushed her toward the breakroom and firmly pointed at the cardboard container of curry before finding her a phone. She had one of her own, true, worn at her side in a silk pouch, but better mayhap that she did not give the number to Anita. "Aye, eating, eating..." yes, eating, then poking the number into the phone and setting it to speaker.

She preferred the 'speaker' setting, it let her use her hands in other projects, in this case, feeding herself! "Anita."

Ah, such a charming way to answer a phone. "You sent a lord with your number," Khemrys noted softly, Rafael shamelessly leaning in the door to listen. "If you wish to speak, lady..."

Anita sighed, shifting the phone on her shoulder and waving Micah out of the room. Finally, the bitch had taken the bait. She had plans, yes. "Look, I don't like you."

"Such is apparent, yes."

"But I don't like my people unhappy either. Jason's been moping and that has an effect on his work and his role as pomme." Not to mention the fucker had turned HER down when she'd tried to convince the man why his moping was idiotic.

"My lord Jason is very dedicated to his work in all roles," Khemrys noted stiffly.

"He's MINE. And Jean Claude's. And Richards. Don't forget that, so I have to pay attention to his health," Anita growled. Some words just got her back up and that was one of them. No one else got to claim her people. Obviously she just needed to show the man that this saint Khemrys was just like any other slut once a man stopped paying attention to her. Hence this...plan. "Look, vocabulary aside we should talk," she sighed.

"Are we not doing such?"

"Face to face," she snorted. "Neutral ground even, just some girl talk okay? I just want to work this out for my people."

Khemrys paused in her eating to glance at Rafael and sigh, rubbing a temple. She could already feel the headache. "As you like then."

"Good, meet me at the club. That lets Jason see you when his shift is over." A baited hook the bitch couldn't ignore, hopefully. More importantly she'd checked the schedules, Jason had a hen party, that meant her wolf would have his hands full until Khemrys was suitably...occupied.

"The club," Khemrys repeated, a touch stunned.

"He's told you about his work right? It's a good neutral zone and has better drinks."

Rafael was shaking his head, but Khemrys sighed, "alright then. When?"

"Tonight, seven."

"One hour," Rafael sighed, already leaning out of the door to arrange some security. Or driver. EITHER OR IN THIS CASE.

"If there are no pressing injured here then I will be present," Khemrys allowed. "Should another arrive with dire injury you will be contacted."

"Be there," Anita snorted, hanging up. It irked her that the woman not only messed up the necessary balance in life but that she called Jean Claude High Lord obediently but didn't follow her directives properly. Bitch. "I'll be out," she snapped, breezing past Micah and Nat as she pulled her coat on.

She had things to do.

Events to set up.

If she recalled properly the set before Jason's was new blood. All masculine assurance and sculpted body, more than happy to take on a wilting virgin or two with the proper incentive. And by the time she had a drink or two in Khemrys, well, there'd be no resisting the Arduer. She could set the young man at any target she chose and Jason would fall back in line properly...

...and if that somehow didn't work no doubt seeing how Jason behaved with the parties that paid, well, that would achieve the same end wouldn't it? Finally things were looking up!

Better the woman drifted in the door alone, though someone had obviously made a suggestion as to wardrobe. None of those peasant skirts and laced blouses, no, she was in leather, kneehigh boots and black leggings under the sweeping, teasing edge of a coat that gave the illusion of a skirt with how it flared at the poor excuse for hips the woman had. Almost presentable then, a fact that made Anita smirk and wave at the bartender. They'd start easy, something fruity, light, and laced with powder.

She hadn't banked on the healer taking one sniff and setting the drink aside distastefully. Hell. "If you'd speak, lady?"

Anita sighed, waving for something else, "I need to know how to resolve this...thing....between us."

Khemrys blinked, hands soothing the coat edge along her knees as she considered that, "as I am aware, lady, I hold naught between us. You have no care for me, and so I have left."

"People remember you though," Anita sighed, sipping her own drink and watching as Khemrys set aside the next glass as well.

"I cannot and will not change the minds and memories of others, lady. Such is of the Left hand path and I do not walk such."

"Bullshit," Anita snorted. "They're happier, and healthier, forgetting. That's healing, not tampering."

"As the lady is not a healer I cannot agree," she noted gently, glancing at the stage as the performer before Jason stepped up to start his set.

Not bad, in Anita's experience, but then, Jean Claude didn't hire amateurs, it'd be a waste of hormones after all. "Look, fine, not forgetting, but you should end things. You're not coming back, Jean Claude won't have you, he's on my side."

"Ah," Khemrys mused softly, hands sliding in her lap again. "And you speak on his behalf then?"

FINALLY AN IN! "Of course."

"I see." Khemrys stopped fidgeting after she'd pulled her phone from it's pouch, fingers tracing one of the combinations she'd memorized. If Anita spoke with the High Lord's words then the man should not be surprised to be on speaker under the table edge now should he? "I have been naught but an aid to many here, I'd not think him so rash in his choices to bar me."

"He's come to his senses since whatever you did to him when the Council visited," she snorted. "Things are running better in your absence. "

"And yet the borders are sore taxed."

"No one would dare," Anita smiled.

"Then the numbers in the hospital have no bearing and sound no alarm to you?" Khemrys countered softly.

"My people know to tell me when there's need. I'm their protector."

"Ah, those who have sworn to you only then? The rats do not do so in my experience and so they do not fall under your protections despite treaties with the High Lord?"

"They don't feed the Arduer, by choice," Anita sighed, even the next mug of tea set aside by the picky little fake leopard.

"It is not a factor in their treaty," Khemrys countered gently. "They hold the border and intelligence in return for aid and shelter at need when they sound alarm. As they have."

"Not to me!"

"You are no war general, lady."

Fuck this shit. The target's set was over and she was tired of this game already, "I am the fucking protector, they come to me or to no one. Must not be a problem if they haven't asked my help. Also it's rude you won't drink with me. I've tried to accommodate you."

"I know doses when I scent them, lady," Khemrys noted quietly. "I am a healer after all."

"Bullshit, no one would dare try to drug you here, and your nose isn't were-good anyway, you're just being rude." She reached forward to sip one of the drinks as 'example' knowing it was nothing against her own ability. "See?"

"Foolishness, lady."

Anita sighed, "lady this, lady that, fuck you. I've been nice, Khemrys and you won't even give me my due as Jean Claude's partner. I'm High Lady to you."

Khemrys sighed, shifting to leave the booth, "you are not wed, lady, and have not taken any of the true responsibilities of such a title. If you'll not care for the lands proper, then you'll have no higher rank." It was common sense.

"Where do you think you're going?" Anita growled, grabbing the girl's wrist and letting her own power rise. "There's someone I want to introduce you to." Her role here was to submit and shatter that foolish dream Jason held, anything else was window dressing.

Khemrys froze, looking down at that grip, "you do not wish to test me lady." The words were near deadly calm, though gently said, somehow making the air seem muted and quiet despite the pounding music. "This meet was but a sham and an attempt to pad your own ego. I'll not be party to such."

"The hell you won't," Anita hissed, her other hand reaching for the man smiling and coming toward them.

"Awwww, is she shy?" the stripper smiled.

"Very," Anita purred as Jason's set cued up, women surging toward the stage.

Hmmm. Khemrys sighed and wrapped her fingers in turn about Anita then, "and so. Shouldst I find you an abuser, lady? One who seeks to harm those sworn to you?" The threat was again softly spoken, but no less real for that fact. Jean Claude was likely sending someone to prevent the shattering of the triumvirate, and her own escort was going to poke their heads in any moment to check on her...

...but she would not bow before this creature and the reek beginning to rise from her no.

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"You were the first to ever...ask," she admitted quietly, working hands up into his hair to tease nails along his scalp.

He made a small sound at that, tilting his head into her nails a bit. "Their loss," he said and gave a very careful nip to her neck where it joined her shoulder. His hand let go of hers and he smoothed both hands over the front of her corset. The hooks gave slightly, but didn't release, but it was enough to make him suddenly chuckle against her neck. "You're not wearing anything under that," he breathed.

The nails found their way from scalp to back of neck at the teasing, "Aye, the chemise 'destroyed the look' Beryl said?" as she breathed under his hands. "The coat was my overdress this eve."

"I've the feel you're overdressed lord..."

He paused a moment to enjoy that, craning his neck slightly with a soft groan. "Mmm, she's right: this is a much better look."

He still hadn't moved his hands from the corset. "Maybe. But I'd have to let go of you to do anything about that. And I don't think I want to do that." As if to demonstrate this feeling, the bottom two hooks of her corset were pointedly unhooked.

"Mayhap I shall see to your garments once I'm freed..." she teased softly. It'd be awkward in current position, honestly, and she was enjoying the small shivers from her nails at current location!

"I will be certain to tell Beryl you agree with her."

"Freed," he laughed, loosening two more hooks. "If I didn't like this outfit so much I could 'free' you a lot faster."

And two more, then pausing to trace his fingers over the exposed skin of her belly.

"But I think you don't mind?"

"I do not mind," she agreed, amused, "as your hands are warm against the cool air you allow to slip in..." tease!

Mmmm, well then, "does this mean it should be worn out with you more often?"

"Well, I don't want you to get cold." He smiled, pausing to very slowly unhook two more, leaving the corset clinging to her by the last two hooks. His fingers teased higher, brushing lightly under her breasts. "You won't get a complaint from me. But you could wrap yourself from head to toe in fabric to go out if you let me unwrap it later."

"Mmmmm, yes?" she agreed a touch distracted by that. Yes to what...oh, right, "warm is nice. You are warmer than many..." she appreciated that, honest!

"Ah, betimes if I were in full robes and drapes you'd still find me attractive?" she smiled.

"Benefit of dating a lycanthrope," he chuckled. "You get a personal space heater." The last two hooks were flicked open, letting the corset drop to the floor between them. His hands cupped warmly over her breasts. "Full robes, drapes; you could wear the most hideous dress imaginable and I'd still find you irresistible."

"I'm a shifter and yet do not run so warm," she chuckled, then settled to humming happily and the hands on her chest. Such a cozy man to give herself to yes. "Would you then, mayhap I'll have to wear such..." just to tease him yes.

His fingers kneaded lightly, teasingly. "Yeah, but you're not a lycanthrope. And if you go out of your way to wear something ridiculous, remember I can play that game, too."

He kissed along her jaw, searching for her mouth with his.

Such pleasant a touch her chosen lord had...

...she was more than eager to kiss him again, nails no longer teasing so much as hands holding him in the kiss for now! "Mmmm, shouldst be fun..." ridiculous clothes that was!

A competition that could easily get out of hand, but was very quickly forgotten when he felt her eagerness in that kiss. He turned her in his arms without letting his mouth leave hers, sliding his hands down her bare back and over her hips. He pulled her close against him agains as he slowly backed towards the hall.

Oh, yes, that shifted things a bit didn't it? It meant she could get hands on his shirt rather than just waiting...and it was built oddly wasn't it? "Is this meant to tear?" she gasped, laughing eventually.

He laughed at that, forgetting he was still in his "work clothes". "Yeah," he laughed with sudden grin, "Why, are you thinking of trying it out?"

It wasn't as rigged as the tear-away pants (the multitude of tiny snaps were so fucking annoying), but a plain T-shirt could easily have unseen openings in seams, careful perforations that wouldn't be visible to an audience, so that even a human would have no problem believably tearing that shirt off.

"I was wondering at the seaming..." she admitted, nipping his lip again in amusement before turning her attention lower to figure out the odd construction.

he..might be tempted yes. In that manner where she wiggled a hole in one section and tugged on it laughing. "There is marker for such poorly crafted clothing..." imagine!

He maneuvered her through the doorway to her room, bumping slightly on the door frame with his back and laughing. "We don't buy most of it like this, we rig it after."

Not all the T-shirts were rigged; it depended on the act that night. And thankfully Jean Claude finally hired someone to do that, freeing the rest of them up to...broaden their talents.

He watched her for a moment: he liked watching her smile as she pulled at that fabric.

She wiggled a few fingers into seam holes and laughed, "I see, so you pay someone to damage it..." How unfortunate for the shirts themselves! Though, admitted, the small pop and palm sized hole was kind of funny?

She was just going to lay her palm on his chest through the hole now thank you!

There was another laugh and he nipped at her neck again. "You're gonna tease me now? I thought you said I was 'overdressed'. Or can't you stand wasting fabric?"

He grinned, pulling her other hand to his chest. "Why don't you warm both hands?"

"I'm amused!" she laughed, crooking the fingers of her hands under the shirt against his chest. "Such...interactive clothing now!" And she'd danced with him through hers so it was only fair!

Or something!

But sure she'd find another seam to pick apart with the other!

"Well this is amateur level; I can find you something more challenging to take off next time."

So many options, and so many ways to see that blush on her cheeks.

He very subtly swayed his hips, keeping her close against him while she explored the seams of his shirt.

"It is amusing none the less," she sniffed teasingly, leaning up to kiss him. "And I can repair it to a usable condition again in the morning..." so he wouldn't lose out on the use at the club?

Okay, slowly popping seam bits was almost like playing with the bubble wrap she'd learned to enjoy here. Very...zen. Sexy zen? Was that a thing? Pop pop pop strettttch...

He laughed, not letting her lips escape his. "These aren't meant to be repaired." Most of the time the remnants were never found, having been snatched up as a souvenir, but they were just cheap t-shirts so it wasn't a big loss.

But he wouldn't deny her her fun either.

"It is still a pity as this is not your work," she giggled. Granted, she was now really hoping no one else actually pulled clothing off him. That slowed the deseaming a touch as she tried to shake it off.

Bah, overthinking things was bad for them both wasn't it? "Unless you wish me to make it summat else?"

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