homeless_pard | We'll just see about this...

Entry tags:

jason au

We'll just see about this...

Who: Requiem and Jason
When: A day after the shopping trip? (long enough to set lights and get planters planted)
What: Trying to piece together just what the hell is going on here.

He was still braiding his hair when he stepped into the donor quarters. Sure, it was easier to just go to the club, but he wasn't always in the mood for the lights and noise, hence seeing if any of the donors were still available and willing...

...the donor quarters were always slightly brighter than other areas because the most common occupants were not vampires (not that the Circus was ill lit by any means) but it seemed even brighter than normal. Perhaps one of his meals yesterday had been high? It would explain the mild headache and sensitivity to light today? And would explain why he was loathe to go to the club. He was never at his best when post-drugging.

He tied off his braid with a leather thong then nodded, pulling his hood up. It was a 'necessary part of his character' the cape, and comforting besides, fewer people dicked around when it came to donating when he was caped. Something about the mystery and darkness inherent made them bend their necks to him easier.

Appearances. Feh.

He finally glanced around then blinked, those were...grow lights? Not sun lights, they didn't hurt, they were just bright. And plant troughs had been added, he could smell the damp earth and the tease of herbal scents just under the smell of bee balm blossoms. Well, that was new, he wasn't certain who had decided the donors needed such but he certainly wasn't going to complain?

He was half way to the planters, curious about what had been seeded, before he spotted the man on the couch. What was Jean Claude's pomme doing here? Their Master would have said if the man had fallen out of favor, and yet these were the general quarters. "...Jason?" Perhaps he'd brought a lover and fallen asleep waiting while said lover recovered in a room?

It seemed the most plausible answer honestly.

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"Jason, this is my job," he sighed. It was, simple as that.

"As you say?" she blinked. It was just how people spoke in her mind! But there was many more staccato syllables in 'English'.

"If it's not too much trouble Lady, I'd like to hear you full tale?" Requiem asked gently. "Please?"

She blinked. "Ah, of course, you are such as serves the High Lord in regards to information of the realm?"

"Something like."

Jason settled into the chair, grabbing a Gatorade for himself. He was still tired from the quick feeding and even quicker retreat to the donor's quarters. Gatorade and the chair suddenly sounded amazing.

He did give a supportive glance to Khemrys, giving her his attention again despite having heard the story already.

Khemrys sighed, starting...much further back than prior honestly, speaking of the war, and her parents, then onward through life in the abbey, the new Abbess, her flight...

...there were points where Requiem pressed for detail, and later asked again, her answer not shifting, thankfully, and she met his gaze as easily as she had Jean Claude's, though by the time they were into the flight portion she was shaky and unhappy and FORCEFULLY focusing on sewing in her lap yes. PTSD? Oh yes, by the mile.

"It is...a fantastical tale," Requiem sighed at last.

Jason listened, taking note of some of the things he hadn't heard before and watching her carefully. He could see this time how easily she met and held the vampires' gaze, which still amazed him. He didn't interrupt Requiem's questioning: even if he didn't think it was necessary, Jean Claude would side with Requiem on this.

He saw her demeanor change when she started to talk about the hunter, and he recognized that look all too well. Too many people he cared about shared that look. He offered Requiem a brief side-eye for that description (it probably having a much different meaning between their experiences), then rose and nodded worriedly to Khemrys. "It's a lot to keep going over. Did you want some of your tea? I can go heat some water if you want?"

"Aye," she agreed to Requiem softly. "Well I know such. It isn't a tale one expects so far from the war." No, it was a calm, sedate world now far removed from the age of Wonders.

"Thank you lord Jason, that would...go well. Wouldst you share?" They could all use tea? "If I may...a question of my own?"

"Of course," Requiem nodded.

"Why didst you expect harm from Gunnora's symbol?"

Jason nodded to her. "I think I remember where an actual teapot is, so I'll heat the water and bring that back."

He'd let her measure out the tea: he still didn't have confidence that he would do that right. He excused himself and slipped from the room.

The teapot needed a quick wash: it had been collecting dust after it was left behind by that asshole Padma's human servant. Thomas something? Regardless, with the pot washed and the water heated, it was awhile before he returned with the pot carefully wrapped in a towel and two cups.

Requiem had obviously explained crosses by the time he'd returned? Judging by the affronted and rather worried look and the fact that he came in on "...sounds a terrible deity!" Obviously!

h, but she was relieved to see Jason and shifted around enough to pull tea from one of the drawers...and commenced mixing another new blend rather than the premade ones! When adding the leaves to the pot she paused, blinking at the cups, "are you not wishing tea lord?" What?

Jason blinked questioningly in return. "Yeah, I was going to have tea. That's why I brought two cups...?"

He noticed her glance to Requiem and he realized that she thought Requiem would be joining them. "Oh. Oh, you meant Requiem? No, he can't drink tea."

"We cannot eat or drink, lady," Requiem chuckled. "But I will enjoy smelling a good blend." If nothing else?

"Oh, my apologies," she winced, setting the lid on the pot.

"Was tea a big thing for you when you were human, Requiem?" Jason, being a stereotypical American in many aspects, didn't have much of an understanding of tea. At all.

But even he was appreciating the smell already wafting from the pot.

"...I was once one who made medicines and mixed herbs as well," he admitted quietly. "And Europe is rather proud of their teas." So yes?

"A stillmaster?" Khemrys brightened. "If you wish you may also take herbs at need once they are grown?"

Jason looked somewhat surprised: he'd never really had much in the way of conversation with Requiem before, let alone over his past. "Seriously? You did the herbal medicines and stuff too?"

"...yes," he nodded gently. "I was doctor, as it'd be called here. Once. Then my brother died in the Crusades and a son was needed to fill his place."

Khemrys...poured the cups and set her own in Requiem's hand to scent?

Jason cocked his head. "So even though you were a doctor you had to go because what, you were the next boy in the family? Did you have to fight or did you keep being a doctor there?"

Jason held his own cup, enjoying the scent and making a mental note to find some honey to keep around if Khem was going to be making tea on the regular.

"...yes, I was the only remaining son," he sighed, passing Khemrys's cup back to her when it cooled some. "We all fought."

"Such is war," Khemrys winced in sympathy.

Jason took a slow sip of his tea. "How many siblings did you have," he asked softly.

"Three," he mused softly. "The two youngest died young when fevers went through." Likely why he'd gone into medicine honestly.

"Regardless, I should take a meal before we go, Jason. I'll meet you back here."

Jason nodded. "I'll be in here after you've fed and we can go." He paused and added, "I'm sorry about your siblings, Requiem."

No matter how long ago it was, it was still hard to lose family.

"No sympathy needed, the eldest was an utter asshole," he smiled slightly, relishing the newer term yes. "I'll be back soon."

"A pleasure to have met you lord," Khemrys noted gently.

"And you lady."

Jason snickered. "Every family has to have one."

He watched Requiem leave before turning his attention back to Khemrys. "You're doing ok tonight? I know you've been busy sewing."

She sipped her tea a touch longer and sighed, "aye lord. I've a good start on a wardrobe, I'll have aught for decency soon enough. Then I shall start on determining what is needed here for feeding those who may eat..."

He chuckled and sipped at his own tea. "When your feet are doing better I can take you to get stuff for cooking. Honestly, I'd tell you to not worry so much about it, but I'm curious to try some of your meals."

The problem will likely arise when she discovers just how much a hungry lycanthrope can eat.

"I'm sure Jean Claude won't mind starting out some sort of allowance to buy groceries."

"Aye, my feet," she sighed. "There's...a fair time yet. The chance to rest and recover is a boon, lord, but when running they didst not hurt quite so much..." alas. Odd humor, but humor none the less.

"I will spend time as I may here looking for an appropriate hearth while you are away, that at least should be mild as such efforts go?"

"Yeah, well you had adrenaline working in your favor," he teased. "Just don't try running around again as a pain reliever: it won't work."

He eyed her with mock suspicion, his smile lurking just behind. "If you promise to take it easy. No one should bother you walking around, but if any one gives you a hard time, just mention Jean Claude. That will shut them up fast."

"Truly," she agreed. And swelling impacted nerve conduction. And some bonus nerve damage no doubt. Still. "I've a mind to be sensible, barring a need to run?" People had been kind this far though so unlikely there would be an extreme need!

"I am here by the High Lord's grace," she repeated with a chuckle.

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