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Fantasy A Shifting World
- Thread starter Soliloquy
- Start date
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- Tags
- closed f/f magical supernatural
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
The rain beat down relentlessly - no, that wasn't right. The rain wasn't just beating downward. It came crashing from the sides, compiling in nooks and crannies to create hidden puddles that then splashed up from beneath. The rain was unforgiving and merciless, ready to wash anyone and anything away who could fare against it's rage.
Must. Keep. Running.
But sleep was such a comforting thought! Her paws ached and her stomach churned in protest, unable to even think of just how long it'd been since she'd had anything to eat. Not since the Grey Room. For a brief second as she leapt over a puddle, she considered going back just for a morsel... No! She'd escaped and to go back would only put her back where she couldn't be another moment longer. Starving to death was a better option.
Must. Keep. Running.
Or maybe stop in that cave? Even if just for a few hours, a sleep felt like a good idea. Out of the rain and the cold. Dilute calico fur was soaked, clinging to her thinned frame and dripping as she went. Tentative steps out of the mud and on to a rocky floor stopped suddenly. That smell. She didn't know what it was but her body screamed danger. She turned immediately, forcing her legs to cooperate even as her rain-drenched tail trailed in mud.
Must. Keep. Running.
For how long? She didn't know. Only so that she was far away from the Grey Room and Them. She had no idea how long she'd already been traveling, only that the pads of her feet had cracked and were bleeding. She was somewhat consciously aware of a cut along the side of her torso, the result of her panicked escape. There was no time to tend to it now. Too much was at risk.
Must. Keep. Running.
With almost no warning, the forest that had engulfed her vision in the night vanished. Evergreen trees were beside and behind her, but in front of her was a wide, flat space. Slowing her pace from a trot to a curious walk, she eased herself on to the flat piece. It was solid, hard, and smelled funny. Rain was also on the flat thing, though at least now her paws weren't sinking in to mud. Continuing across the expanse, a new sound caught her attention, tired blue eyes turned in wonder. She stopped, notched grey ear twitching as a drop of water hit it.
Was that light? Was it Them?! No, no They couldn't have found her that fast. But just what was it? At a loss, she demanded an answer from the bright lights that continued to light more of the space around her. Mewling and raising a paw at the lights, she could only just make out a metal giant before it struck her, sending her body tumbling down. Was this death? There was only one welcoming thought as her mind slipped away.
No. More. Running.
Must. Keep. Running.
But sleep was such a comforting thought! Her paws ached and her stomach churned in protest, unable to even think of just how long it'd been since she'd had anything to eat. Not since the Grey Room. For a brief second as she leapt over a puddle, she considered going back just for a morsel... No! She'd escaped and to go back would only put her back where she couldn't be another moment longer. Starving to death was a better option.
Must. Keep. Running.
Or maybe stop in that cave? Even if just for a few hours, a sleep felt like a good idea. Out of the rain and the cold. Dilute calico fur was soaked, clinging to her thinned frame and dripping as she went. Tentative steps out of the mud and on to a rocky floor stopped suddenly. That smell. She didn't know what it was but her body screamed danger. She turned immediately, forcing her legs to cooperate even as her rain-drenched tail trailed in mud.
Must. Keep. Running.
For how long? She didn't know. Only so that she was far away from the Grey Room and Them. She had no idea how long she'd already been traveling, only that the pads of her feet had cracked and were bleeding. She was somewhat consciously aware of a cut along the side of her torso, the result of her panicked escape. There was no time to tend to it now. Too much was at risk.
Must. Keep. Running.
With almost no warning, the forest that had engulfed her vision in the night vanished. Evergreen trees were beside and behind her, but in front of her was a wide, flat space. Slowing her pace from a trot to a curious walk, she eased herself on to the flat piece. It was solid, hard, and smelled funny. Rain was also on the flat thing, though at least now her paws weren't sinking in to mud. Continuing across the expanse, a new sound caught her attention, tired blue eyes turned in wonder. She stopped, notched grey ear twitching as a drop of water hit it.
Was that light? Was it Them?! No, no They couldn't have found her that fast. But just what was it? At a loss, she demanded an answer from the bright lights that continued to light more of the space around her. Mewling and raising a paw at the lights, she could only just make out a metal giant before it struck her, sending her body tumbling down. Was this death? There was only one welcoming thought as her mind slipped away.
No. More. Running.
saintaelphaba
New Member
"Mrs. Foley, the advisor, right? She said I have a good chance of making it to UT after I finish my two years of community college here. Maybe just one year, y'know, if I take summer courses in between my shifts at the diner. But Dad wants me working full time if I want money for my own car, and that might be a lot with classes and all, but I could probably do it. You think I could finish in one?"
The radio was a low hum in the background--"Sister Golden Hair," by the opening notes--but Tom's constant chatter drowned most of it out. It was too much distraction and it made her uneasy. The rain was coming down hard--was he even watching the road? Was he paying attention? He was a good kid, but often careless, which wasn't a comforting thought at this late hour or in this weather.
"Turn your blinker off, Thomas," she said, her face turned toward the window. "You made the turn already."
"Right. Sorry." There was a sheepish tone to his voice at the admonishment, but the clicking noise shut off. Mag allowed herself a sigh of relief.
She sounded more cross than she felt: she wasn't in a bad mood, she was tired. And tonight's lesson had gone on much longer than she'd anticipated, what with high school juniors and seniors all scrambling with their college admissions. There was very little to do tomorrow, though, she thought with some comfort. Just the usual end-of-the-week tidying. No one to talk to, no one to deal with--just her, the floor, and a sponge and bucket of soapy water. She tuned back into the radio.
I ain't ready for the altar but I do agree there's times
When a woman sure can be a friend of mine
"Ma said to make sure I see you off safe, and I said Miss Sullivan's probably had her share of me and doesn't want me hanging around, right? But she said she'd stop by tomorrow with your check, only we're a bit short so she's gonna bring by some dinner for you to make up for it. You'd tell us if you needed something, right? I mean, your land backs up to our neighborhood, it's really no trouble if you ever need a ride or something instead of taking the bus all the time."
Will you meet me in the middle, will you meet me in the air?
Will you love me just a little, just enough to show you care?
Well I tried to fake it, I don't mind sayin', I just can't--
"Shit!"
The truck lurched to a stop, its ancient brakes screeching against the asphalt, and Mag strained against her seatbelt with a gasp. Judging by the sound from the driver's seat, she figured Thomas wasn't wearing his. Haven't I told him a million times-
"What was that?" she asked softly, winded by the shock. She focused on her breathing as Tom forced out, "S-some kind of animal, I think. But I didn't run over it, right, I think I just hit it? I saw it and I tried to stop, so I might have just bumped it. Oh, God, Sully, that's not your cat, is it?"
He was in such a panic, she thought it ill-timed to correct him on his slip up. It was just a silly nickname some of the older kids had for her, one she'd heard used teasingly and kindly and cruelly. Crazy old Sully, Sully who lives in the witch house. Needless to say, the majority of the local children weren't very creative with their name-calling.
The momentary adrenaline was dying down, though her hand still trembled as she reached for her white cane tucked between her seat and the car door, unfolding it, and shoving the door open to step out into the rain. The water struck her hard, pelting her face as she made her way down the road, her dark hair turning to a heavy wet knot against her neck. Soon the rounded tip of her cane touched something a couple feet away from the vehicle, and she bent down to inspect it.
It seemed to be a cat--though not her Hecate, who was longer and not quite so lean. This one was small--and, yes, still breathing, she noted gratefully, pressing her fingertips to its side. But it was badly injured. She traced a long cut running along its ribs, feeling its shallow breaths and cracking paws. The poor thing was already in pain and was probably trying to make it to safety before they hit it. She drew the raincoat from her shoulders and began wrapping the cat in it, pulling the sleeves into a loose swaddle.
"Oh, thank God, a calico--yours is black, isn't it? I mean, it's still sad, but at least it's not yours."
"Jesus, Tom!" Mag toppled backward off her heels, landing in a puddle behind her with a soft splash. She'd been too distracted to notice Tom had joined her in a crouch. "You can't just sneak up on people."
"Sorry. I wasn't. I mean, I figured you--" He cut himself off and whispered, "Oh."
"She'll be fine," Mag said, more certain than she felt. She was sure it was a girl, too--calicos were usually female, weren't they? "She just needs that cut cleaned and bandaged. Nothing felt broken on her. I'll take her to a vet first thing tomorrow, and she'll be fine."
"All right," Tom responded hesitantly, and a beat later: "And you?"
"We're both fine." She drew the animal closer to her, instinctively protective. "You go on home. We'll be fine."
"Goodnight, miss--and you'll call, won't you?"
"Goodnight, Thomas. Thank you."
He was smart enough to catch the firm note in her voice, because pretty soon the engine roared to life behind her, and she stepped off the road to allow him by. Luckily, this was her street, and her house was little more than yards away.
"You'll be fine," Mag whispered as she pulled open the rusted gate, latching it shut behind them with a long creak. Speaking to something nonhuman, her tone was easier, warmer. "You just need that washed out with saline. Definitely a bath when you're up to it, but let's not push our luck tonight. Pisi, you'll be fine."
She fumbled for her key with her other hand, nudging the door open with her hip, humming as she went inside.
Well, I tried to fake it
I don't mind sayin'
I just can't make it
The radio was a low hum in the background--"Sister Golden Hair," by the opening notes--but Tom's constant chatter drowned most of it out. It was too much distraction and it made her uneasy. The rain was coming down hard--was he even watching the road? Was he paying attention? He was a good kid, but often careless, which wasn't a comforting thought at this late hour or in this weather.
"Turn your blinker off, Thomas," she said, her face turned toward the window. "You made the turn already."
"Right. Sorry." There was a sheepish tone to his voice at the admonishment, but the clicking noise shut off. Mag allowed herself a sigh of relief.
She sounded more cross than she felt: she wasn't in a bad mood, she was tired. And tonight's lesson had gone on much longer than she'd anticipated, what with high school juniors and seniors all scrambling with their college admissions. There was very little to do tomorrow, though, she thought with some comfort. Just the usual end-of-the-week tidying. No one to talk to, no one to deal with--just her, the floor, and a sponge and bucket of soapy water. She tuned back into the radio.
I ain't ready for the altar but I do agree there's times
When a woman sure can be a friend of mine
"Ma said to make sure I see you off safe, and I said Miss Sullivan's probably had her share of me and doesn't want me hanging around, right? But she said she'd stop by tomorrow with your check, only we're a bit short so she's gonna bring by some dinner for you to make up for it. You'd tell us if you needed something, right? I mean, your land backs up to our neighborhood, it's really no trouble if you ever need a ride or something instead of taking the bus all the time."
Will you meet me in the middle, will you meet me in the air?
Will you love me just a little, just enough to show you care?
Well I tried to fake it, I don't mind sayin', I just can't--
"Shit!"
The truck lurched to a stop, its ancient brakes screeching against the asphalt, and Mag strained against her seatbelt with a gasp. Judging by the sound from the driver's seat, she figured Thomas wasn't wearing his. Haven't I told him a million times-
"What was that?" she asked softly, winded by the shock. She focused on her breathing as Tom forced out, "S-some kind of animal, I think. But I didn't run over it, right, I think I just hit it? I saw it and I tried to stop, so I might have just bumped it. Oh, God, Sully, that's not your cat, is it?"
He was in such a panic, she thought it ill-timed to correct him on his slip up. It was just a silly nickname some of the older kids had for her, one she'd heard used teasingly and kindly and cruelly. Crazy old Sully, Sully who lives in the witch house. Needless to say, the majority of the local children weren't very creative with their name-calling.
The momentary adrenaline was dying down, though her hand still trembled as she reached for her white cane tucked between her seat and the car door, unfolding it, and shoving the door open to step out into the rain. The water struck her hard, pelting her face as she made her way down the road, her dark hair turning to a heavy wet knot against her neck. Soon the rounded tip of her cane touched something a couple feet away from the vehicle, and she bent down to inspect it.
It seemed to be a cat--though not her Hecate, who was longer and not quite so lean. This one was small--and, yes, still breathing, she noted gratefully, pressing her fingertips to its side. But it was badly injured. She traced a long cut running along its ribs, feeling its shallow breaths and cracking paws. The poor thing was already in pain and was probably trying to make it to safety before they hit it. She drew the raincoat from her shoulders and began wrapping the cat in it, pulling the sleeves into a loose swaddle.
"Oh, thank God, a calico--yours is black, isn't it? I mean, it's still sad, but at least it's not yours."
"Jesus, Tom!" Mag toppled backward off her heels, landing in a puddle behind her with a soft splash. She'd been too distracted to notice Tom had joined her in a crouch. "You can't just sneak up on people."
"Sorry. I wasn't. I mean, I figured you--" He cut himself off and whispered, "Oh."
"She'll be fine," Mag said, more certain than she felt. She was sure it was a girl, too--calicos were usually female, weren't they? "She just needs that cut cleaned and bandaged. Nothing felt broken on her. I'll take her to a vet first thing tomorrow, and she'll be fine."
"All right," Tom responded hesitantly, and a beat later: "And you?"
"We're both fine." She drew the animal closer to her, instinctively protective. "You go on home. We'll be fine."
"Goodnight, miss--and you'll call, won't you?"
"Goodnight, Thomas. Thank you."
He was smart enough to catch the firm note in her voice, because pretty soon the engine roared to life behind her, and she stepped off the road to allow him by. Luckily, this was her street, and her house was little more than yards away.
"You'll be fine," Mag whispered as she pulled open the rusted gate, latching it shut behind them with a long creak. Speaking to something nonhuman, her tone was easier, warmer. "You just need that washed out with saline. Definitely a bath when you're up to it, but let's not push our luck tonight. Pisi, you'll be fine."
She fumbled for her key with her other hand, nudging the door open with her hip, humming as she went inside.
Well, I tried to fake it
I don't mind sayin'
I just can't make it
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Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
Sleep had been unusually easy, though it was more likely from the concussion than anything else. Her body had all but given up as it laid on the concrete, holding on by the sliver that was a kind voice and warmth after only the cold for so long. She was too tired even for dreams, which was likely for the better. Dreams were never pleasant, only repeating the memories she already had. No, she was a soft lump for several hours, her body finally getting the rest it needed after all of that running.
Eventually the fog lifted and her mind found the surface of thoughts, gradually aware of what was around her. The scent of soap or at least remnants of it floated to her nose, much weaker than it had been the night prior. Eye lids peered open and she was met with the less defined world, though it was not one she knew. This was not the Grey Room, or even where she had been kept. This was a warm space, decorated and cozy. She smelled food, or at least a form of it, nothing she'd experienced before. Words escaped her, but there was one feeling she recognized, mixed in with some confusion.
Safe.
She didn't feel threatened, even if afraid, and it almost made her want to explore. Her tail twitched, or at least in her mind did since it had vanished just before she'd woken. Slipping between forms was likely painful, but after forced so many times it had turned to a dull ache. Bones reshaping, fur melting to skin or the other way around, she had come to accept it. Existence was pain in her mind. Dilute calico patches and a flickering tail were traded for the form of a young woman, though she didn't fare any better condition.
Curious, she moved to stretch, only to find that the old cloth that had wrapped around her much smaller body had vanished. Confused, she went to see why, only to find the ground rushing up to meet her. The surface she had been left on had ended it seemed, and now she sat bare and with a new form of pain on her shoulder she'd landed on. "Umpf," a quiet protest to the feeling as she reached to rub it. The pale and freckled skin was sore, but not damaged upon inspection. The rest of her body was decorated in cuts, scrapes, dried blood and the most prevelant gash on her side. That hurt most from her tumble to the floor, but she did her best to ignore it. There was too much to see.
Shakily she rose to standing, her legs protesting with each movement. Once balanced she dared to take one, two steps forward, feet padding quietly on the ground. There were sores even there that she could feel, though looking at them would do no good. A new pain from her head made her hand reach up to mangled red strands that had kept the leaves previously nestled in fur. A sensitive bump made her wince and whimper in protest. When had she bumped her head? The entire escape was a blur and in that moment she realized she might not have been any safer. The room felt cozy the house was welcoming, but what if it was just a trap? Panic rising, she spotted a door and made quickly for it, unsure of what the lump form wanted of her.
Eventually the fog lifted and her mind found the surface of thoughts, gradually aware of what was around her. The scent of soap or at least remnants of it floated to her nose, much weaker than it had been the night prior. Eye lids peered open and she was met with the less defined world, though it was not one she knew. This was not the Grey Room, or even where she had been kept. This was a warm space, decorated and cozy. She smelled food, or at least a form of it, nothing she'd experienced before. Words escaped her, but there was one feeling she recognized, mixed in with some confusion.
Safe.
She didn't feel threatened, even if afraid, and it almost made her want to explore. Her tail twitched, or at least in her mind did since it had vanished just before she'd woken. Slipping between forms was likely painful, but after forced so many times it had turned to a dull ache. Bones reshaping, fur melting to skin or the other way around, she had come to accept it. Existence was pain in her mind. Dilute calico patches and a flickering tail were traded for the form of a young woman, though she didn't fare any better condition.
Curious, she moved to stretch, only to find that the old cloth that had wrapped around her much smaller body had vanished. Confused, she went to see why, only to find the ground rushing up to meet her. The surface she had been left on had ended it seemed, and now she sat bare and with a new form of pain on her shoulder she'd landed on. "Umpf," a quiet protest to the feeling as she reached to rub it. The pale and freckled skin was sore, but not damaged upon inspection. The rest of her body was decorated in cuts, scrapes, dried blood and the most prevelant gash on her side. That hurt most from her tumble to the floor, but she did her best to ignore it. There was too much to see.
Shakily she rose to standing, her legs protesting with each movement. Once balanced she dared to take one, two steps forward, feet padding quietly on the ground. There were sores even there that she could feel, though looking at them would do no good. A new pain from her head made her hand reach up to mangled red strands that had kept the leaves previously nestled in fur. A sensitive bump made her wince and whimper in protest. When had she bumped her head? The entire escape was a blur and in that moment she realized she might not have been any safer. The room felt cozy the house was welcoming, but what if it was just a trap? Panic rising, she spotted a door and made quickly for it, unsure of what the lump form wanted of her.
saintaelphaba
New Member
She wasn’t sure what had woken her--not her alarm, because the small room was quiet save for the sounds of morning melting into afternoon (had she really slept so late and so heavily?)--but something that wasn’t quite right.
Oh, the cat. She must be up already.
The memory of last night eased her mind somewhat and explained that nagging “thing” she was feeling: she had cleaned its wound and fur with saline and water, using cling wrap in place of a bandage. It would still need a wash, but more pressing was a trip to the vet to get it properly cared for.
“Up and at ‘em, iubi,” Mag mumbled, mostly to the cat but half to herself, then stopped. That noise. What was that noise?
It was too big to be an animal, slower and heavier, and that groan--that was human.
Mag started, fully awake now but not yet enough for full coordination. She had tried to roll off the bed into a standing position, but in her surprise had knocked into the bedside table (she heard her phone and pill organizer clatter to the ground, along with the half glass of water she’d forgotten was there) and landed into a defensive crouch on the other side of the bed. Her breathing quickened, trying to make sense of the thoughts that were racing through her head.
The footsteps seemed slight, so whoever it was couldn’t be much of a threat at their size. And they didn’t seem to mean any harm, or they would have seized their chance while she was sleeping. Was it one of the kids from the neighborhood behind her house? A prank, a dare, a petty theft at worst? They seemed young, and she had experience with young--they were less concerning than a grown intruder, at least. She picked up her phone from the ground and stood, figuring it was less threatening than trying to find a weapon, but she could dial 911 if necessary.
“I know you’re here,” Mag said, surprising even herself at the firm note to her voice. It sounded steady, but the hand still trembling at her side betrayed that confidence. She continued, trying to balance the gentleness and severity. “I won’t call anyone--not yet. But you need to tell me what you’re doing in my house.”
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Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
The voice from behind her was unexpected, turning around so hurriedly her neck sent a wave of pain as a complaint. Her heart quickened in her chest and she pressed her back to the door, breath shaking as her chest rose and fell. Frightened cobalt gaze fell on the woman across the room from her. She did not seem intimindating. Even moreso, the woman smelled of fear, a scent she was too familiar with.
The woman's demands were presented and with nowhere else to turn or go to, she knew she had to answer. Her gaze fell to the floor, as if eye contact was too much to handle. "B-brought here," her voice was soft, just as weak as her body had been. Malnutrition meant she was small in stature, ribs visible and breasts hardly existing despite being of age to warrant them.
It soon became apparent that the woman was not looking at her, though she faced the right general direction. Daring a step closer as an eagerness for knowledge overshadowed fear, she peered from the distance. A limited vocabulary shone through once more as she came to a conclusion. "Eyes don't work," she observed with mounting interest. Curiosity demanded explanation of the woman. "Why?"
The woman's demands were presented and with nowhere else to turn or go to, she knew she had to answer. Her gaze fell to the floor, as if eye contact was too much to handle. "B-brought here," her voice was soft, just as weak as her body had been. Malnutrition meant she was small in stature, ribs visible and breasts hardly existing despite being of age to warrant them.
It soon became apparent that the woman was not looking at her, though she faced the right general direction. Daring a step closer as an eagerness for knowledge overshadowed fear, she peered from the distance. A limited vocabulary shone through once more as she came to a conclusion. "Eyes don't work," she observed with mounting interest. Curiosity demanded explanation of the woman. "Why?"
saintaelphaba
New Member
A girl, then--not a child, but someone young, as she'd thought before, though she couldn't pin an age on her. At the very youngest, the girl must have been in her teens, though she could have been older. But she spoke with a child's vocabulary, though maybe she wasn't familiar with English. Despite herself, Mag was curious--not enough to override her alarm, but enough to lower her guard, if only a little.
"Brought here? Who brought...?" She trailed off in thought, a brief idea (though one too unlikely, too wild to even be considered) vying for her attention for just a moment, before she caught the girl's next question. "Mine? You mean--" Despite herself, she felt the right side of her mouth quirk upwards. She couldn't help it--it was so unexpected and off-topic, it was funny--she laughed, a soft, short sound. "They never really did. Not really," she said, subconsciously taking a step forward. "Not well enough to be of use, anyway. I know you didn't come here--or weren't brought here--just to ask me about myself. What is it you need? Is there someone I should call for you--family, anyone?" She thought, added: "Hungry?"
"Brought here? Who brought...?" She trailed off in thought, a brief idea (though one too unlikely, too wild to even be considered) vying for her attention for just a moment, before she caught the girl's next question. "Mine? You mean--" Despite herself, she felt the right side of her mouth quirk upwards. She couldn't help it--it was so unexpected and off-topic, it was funny--she laughed, a soft, short sound. "They never really did. Not really," she said, subconsciously taking a step forward. "Not well enough to be of use, anyway. I know you didn't come here--or weren't brought here--just to ask me about myself. What is it you need? Is there someone I should call for you--family, anyone?" She thought, added: "Hungry?"
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
The unexpected sound from the woman made her step back in uncertainty. Her mouth pulled back in a smile, and not one of malice or ill intentions. Timidly, she clasped her hands in front of her, avoiding eye contact even if the woman could not see her. It was not enough concern to stifle her interest in the woman and eyes that did not work.
Talk of family sent a pang of misery through her. The vagues of memories of a life before the Grey Room faded more and more each day, though she did not know enough to keep hope strong. Before she could respond to the idea of an impossible task, something more concrete was offered to her, or rather a question. The constant emptiness was a feeling she'd come to live with, but at the offer she nodded quickly. "Yes...hungry..."
Was it safe to eat here? Would the food make her sick? Or was she going to be expected to perform a task in order to receive a bowl of flavorless gruel? Looking at the woman with eyes that did not work, she hoped it was not the case.
Talk of family sent a pang of misery through her. The vagues of memories of a life before the Grey Room faded more and more each day, though she did not know enough to keep hope strong. Before she could respond to the idea of an impossible task, something more concrete was offered to her, or rather a question. The constant emptiness was a feeling she'd come to live with, but at the offer she nodded quickly. "Yes...hungry..."
Was it safe to eat here? Would the food make her sick? Or was she going to be expected to perform a task in order to receive a bowl of flavorless gruel? Looking at the woman with eyes that did not work, she hoped it was not the case.
saintaelphaba
New Member
The girl's evasiveness didn't escape her, but she decided not to press for answers just yet. She was clearly afraid of something, though Mag couldn't pinpoint just what--she might have been a runaway, which seemed the most likely. Possibly abused, judging by her demeanor. Food, then answers.
"Breakfast, right. Come on, then." She kept her tone light, carefully moving past the girl in the doorway, and pulling out the chair opposite the one she usually sat in at the table. "You can come sit here." Mag wasn't in the habit of surrounding herself with clutter--just the opposite, in fact--but with the events of last night, she had dropped her belongings on the table to be dealt with in the morning. She nudged these to the other side of the table to make room for the girl, pushing her bag and a few garden clippings into a pile and sliding a half-full laundry basket under the table.
She still hadn't picked up any sign of the cat from the night before, which worried her, but wasn't the most pressing thing at the moment. It might have been somewhere in the house, likely out in the yard with her own cat, but it had been so injured she couldn't imagine it had gone very far. First things first.
Despite the minor clutter accumulated in the kitchen, Mag was tidy to a fault. Everything organized and in its place, everything as expected, as it should be--that was how she liked it. It was more than a preference: it was a necessity with her lack of vision. She'd grown up in this house, and very little had changed in the time she'd lived there. (It was emptier now, of course, but she couldn't linger on that.)
It was best to keep the girl in the kitchen where she could mind her. She didn't distrust her, exactly, but this girl was still a stranger, and an unusual one at that. Even with her limited speech, she was sharp and alert. Mag found herself trying to see her own home as this girl would as she began to cook: even with the slight disorder, it was neat enough. Small, a little bare, but always maintained. She found that eye turning in on herself, and she reached for her hair self-consciously before drawing it away. She'd changed clothes before bed, at least, and thrown an old robe over her nightgown. But her hair was still in its messy knot, half-falling down her back now. Although the girl couldn't have been in much better shape, Mag figured. She'd smelled vaguely of soap (familiar soap) when she'd passed her in the door, but it might be a good idea to offer her use of the facilities. Breakfast, shower, clothes, then send her on her way.
Carrying two plates to the table, Mag set one in front of the stranger: three pancakes and a handful of blueberries, then a glass of water. She wasn't particularly hungry herself, but didn't want to seem as if this was an interrogation, so she'd made herself a plate of fruit and a pancake and sat across from her. "Well," she said. "I figure we need to get some food in you, then you can wash up and tell me what it is you're looking for. Okay?"
"Breakfast, right. Come on, then." She kept her tone light, carefully moving past the girl in the doorway, and pulling out the chair opposite the one she usually sat in at the table. "You can come sit here." Mag wasn't in the habit of surrounding herself with clutter--just the opposite, in fact--but with the events of last night, she had dropped her belongings on the table to be dealt with in the morning. She nudged these to the other side of the table to make room for the girl, pushing her bag and a few garden clippings into a pile and sliding a half-full laundry basket under the table.
She still hadn't picked up any sign of the cat from the night before, which worried her, but wasn't the most pressing thing at the moment. It might have been somewhere in the house, likely out in the yard with her own cat, but it had been so injured she couldn't imagine it had gone very far. First things first.
Despite the minor clutter accumulated in the kitchen, Mag was tidy to a fault. Everything organized and in its place, everything as expected, as it should be--that was how she liked it. It was more than a preference: it was a necessity with her lack of vision. She'd grown up in this house, and very little had changed in the time she'd lived there. (It was emptier now, of course, but she couldn't linger on that.)
It was best to keep the girl in the kitchen where she could mind her. She didn't distrust her, exactly, but this girl was still a stranger, and an unusual one at that. Even with her limited speech, she was sharp and alert. Mag found herself trying to see her own home as this girl would as she began to cook: even with the slight disorder, it was neat enough. Small, a little bare, but always maintained. She found that eye turning in on herself, and she reached for her hair self-consciously before drawing it away. She'd changed clothes before bed, at least, and thrown an old robe over her nightgown. But her hair was still in its messy knot, half-falling down her back now. Although the girl couldn't have been in much better shape, Mag figured. She'd smelled vaguely of soap (familiar soap) when she'd passed her in the door, but it might be a good idea to offer her use of the facilities. Breakfast, shower, clothes, then send her on her way.
Carrying two plates to the table, Mag set one in front of the stranger: three pancakes and a handful of blueberries, then a glass of water. She wasn't particularly hungry herself, but didn't want to seem as if this was an interrogation, so she'd made herself a plate of fruit and a pancake and sat across from her. "Well," she said. "I figure we need to get some food in you, then you can wash up and tell me what it is you're looking for. Okay?"
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
A desire to stay at the furthest distance possible wasn't left a possibility for long. The woman walked near her, though she only shrunk away minimally. She was posing no threat and even held the promise of food. Food was something she longed for, and even made it seem worth any risk to follow her through the home. It was a smalls pace, though not nearly as small as conditions she was used to. There was warmth in each corner, nothing like she experienced when taken to the Grey Room.
Following the instructions she was given, she found herself poised awkwardly at the very edge of the wooden seat. It wasn't as soft as where they had come from, but it wasn't something she couldn't tolerate. Wide eyes watched as she moved many objects, resisting the urge to reach out and touch any of them. A great part of her wanted to know what the bag was, but instead of reaching for it she sat on her hands.
For no eyes, the woman moved and operated just fine it seemed. Could she also walk around without seeing? It was a question she might need to test, always eager to learn new things. But now she would watch the woman as she made this 'breakfast'. Meals assigned to a time of day were a foreign concept in a world where even time was relatively unknown. She leaned in her seat to try and get the best view, although the woman's body blocked most of it.
Before long she was back at the table and instinctively her posture straightened. The food was set before her and immediately her mouth began salivating. Giving an 'mmhmm' as a simple response to the question, she would have agreed to anything right then. The food before her was nothing like what she was fed on a regular basis. Warm and smeling simply wonderful. Unlearned of manners, he moment the plate was released she was snatching the berries off it. Loud, messy eating could be heard, mouth open as she chewed and not even waiting for one to be completely broken down before adding more.
No regard was given to silverware as she soon after took to the brown circles, tearing them apart with her teeth. Unfiltered sounds of appreciation and wonder at the taste seeped out, going so far as to lick the plate even once everything from it was cleared. The water was clean and cool, bore than she was accustomed to as she downed it quickly, acting as if she was afraid it would be taken back from her. She'd gone so fast her body hadn't had time to register yet how much she'd eaten, gaze shifting to the woman's plate as a small whimper escaped her involuntarily.
Following the instructions she was given, she found herself poised awkwardly at the very edge of the wooden seat. It wasn't as soft as where they had come from, but it wasn't something she couldn't tolerate. Wide eyes watched as she moved many objects, resisting the urge to reach out and touch any of them. A great part of her wanted to know what the bag was, but instead of reaching for it she sat on her hands.
For no eyes, the woman moved and operated just fine it seemed. Could she also walk around without seeing? It was a question she might need to test, always eager to learn new things. But now she would watch the woman as she made this 'breakfast'. Meals assigned to a time of day were a foreign concept in a world where even time was relatively unknown. She leaned in her seat to try and get the best view, although the woman's body blocked most of it.
Before long she was back at the table and instinctively her posture straightened. The food was set before her and immediately her mouth began salivating. Giving an 'mmhmm' as a simple response to the question, she would have agreed to anything right then. The food before her was nothing like what she was fed on a regular basis. Warm and smeling simply wonderful. Unlearned of manners, he moment the plate was released she was snatching the berries off it. Loud, messy eating could be heard, mouth open as she chewed and not even waiting for one to be completely broken down before adding more.
No regard was given to silverware as she soon after took to the brown circles, tearing them apart with her teeth. Unfiltered sounds of appreciation and wonder at the taste seeped out, going so far as to lick the plate even once everything from it was cleared. The water was clean and cool, bore than she was accustomed to as she downed it quickly, acting as if she was afraid it would be taken back from her. She'd gone so fast her body hadn't had time to register yet how much she'd eaten, gaze shifting to the woman's plate as a small whimper escaped her involuntarily.
saintaelphaba
New Member
Well, that's concerning.
Her lack of manners was only somewhat surprising, but not really bothersome. It was the thought that this--child (whatever her age, Mag had decided, this girl was a child still)--had gone so long without proper food. What kind of environment had she grown up in? She'd seen neglect--hell, even lived with it for some time until Buna stepped in. But never to this extent. How had this girl survived this long, and what had brought her here?
"There's more," Mag said, sensing her hunger was persistent. "But I need you to talk to me first. You could give me your name, for starters. I need to call you something." She waited a moment before she continued, letting the question hang. Seeming to make up her mind about something, she placed her hand on the table between them, not touching the girl, but close enough she could if she wanted to. Just enough, she hoped, to show she meant no harm. "You can call me Miss Sullivan for now. What should I call you?" Mag tilted her head slightly, brows knitting together. "I want to help you, but I don't know how to do that unless you talk to me."
Her lack of manners was only somewhat surprising, but not really bothersome. It was the thought that this--child (whatever her age, Mag had decided, this girl was a child still)--had gone so long without proper food. What kind of environment had she grown up in? She'd seen neglect--hell, even lived with it for some time until Buna stepped in. But never to this extent. How had this girl survived this long, and what had brought her here?
"There's more," Mag said, sensing her hunger was persistent. "But I need you to talk to me first. You could give me your name, for starters. I need to call you something." She waited a moment before she continued, letting the question hang. Seeming to make up her mind about something, she placed her hand on the table between them, not touching the girl, but close enough she could if she wanted to. Just enough, she hoped, to show she meant no harm. "You can call me Miss Sullivan for now. What should I call you?" Mag tilted her head slightly, brows knitting together. "I want to help you, but I don't know how to do that unless you talk to me."
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Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
The promise of more food was no doubt the best encouragement the woman could have offered. Shifting on the chair so that she was on her knees for added height, her excitement wore away as there was a stipulation given. A name? She understood the concept of what was being asked, though. What would the woman call her?
But the woman also had a name. One that seemed long, though she didn't say so. Missulvan was trying to speak to her and she needed to find an answer. What had They called her? A moment of pondering came up with an answer that she feared was not sufficient. "Girl." Many of Them referred to as Girl or You Girl, was that was Missulvan wanted? She shifted nervously in her seat, not wanting to disappoint, especially if food was being offered as a reward.
There was one of Them who was not as the others. One less cruel, more understanding. Sometimes he would bring her tiny crumbs of food when she was all but collapsing from hunger. She had liked him. He called her something when They weren't around. Was that her name then? "Kit," a soft response before she repeated it with a smidgen more of confidence. "Called Kit."
But the woman also had a name. One that seemed long, though she didn't say so. Missulvan was trying to speak to her and she needed to find an answer. What had They called her? A moment of pondering came up with an answer that she feared was not sufficient. "Girl." Many of Them referred to as Girl or You Girl, was that was Missulvan wanted? She shifted nervously in her seat, not wanting to disappoint, especially if food was being offered as a reward.
There was one of Them who was not as the others. One less cruel, more understanding. Sometimes he would bring her tiny crumbs of food when she was all but collapsing from hunger. She had liked him. He called her something when They weren't around. Was that her name then? "Kit," a soft response before she repeated it with a smidgen more of confidence. "Called Kit."
saintaelphaba
New Member
"Kit." Mag paused after testing it, choosing to ignore her first answer but mentally filing it away. "Thank you, Kit, it's nice to meet you. May I ask two more questions?" She didn't want to seem as if she were testing her, especially not with food--the thought itself put a knot in her stomach, but she pushed the feeling away as well. She stood to refill Kit's water glass, half out of concern, half out of something to do, and set it before her, then selected an apple from a bowl of fruit and began to wash it. "It would help me to know how old you are, for one. And where it is you're supposed to be right now." She thought, then added, "If you can't go back there, you can tell me where it is I can take you so you're safe. If you know."
She stopped, drying the apple on the side of the flannel robe and hoping she hadn't given Kit too much to take in at once. She was smart, she could tell, but too much pressure or too many questions could make her close up. Calling the authorities was still on the table, but something made her think that wasn't a wise idea. It was the most reasonable thing to do, but again, she had an odd, twisted feeling that wasn't the answer. Maybe if she could keep her here for a day or two, feed her, get her comfortable, let her rest, Kit would open up enough to give her the answers she needed. There wasn't much Mag could do until she knew something, but at least she could see to it that the girl's basic needs were taken care of.
Mag set the apple in front of her, once again sitting at the table. "Listen, whatever you need while you're here, I can help you with. I just need to know these two things: how old are you, and where will you be safe?"
She stopped, drying the apple on the side of the flannel robe and hoping she hadn't given Kit too much to take in at once. She was smart, she could tell, but too much pressure or too many questions could make her close up. Calling the authorities was still on the table, but something made her think that wasn't a wise idea. It was the most reasonable thing to do, but again, she had an odd, twisted feeling that wasn't the answer. Maybe if she could keep her here for a day or two, feed her, get her comfortable, let her rest, Kit would open up enough to give her the answers she needed. There wasn't much Mag could do until she knew something, but at least she could see to it that the girl's basic needs were taken care of.
Mag set the apple in front of her, once again sitting at the table. "Listen, whatever you need while you're here, I can help you with. I just need to know these two things: how old are you, and where will you be safe?"
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
Two questions? She could answer two questions. Kit was eagerly awaiting the questions all while she followed each of Missulvan's movements with eyes engorged by her fascinating actions. The apple was food, Kit knew and recognized that, though she did not understand why she was bathing it. Was the apple thirsty? A thought to ponder another time as the two quesions were presented, making her doubt her ability now to answer them.
How old was she? Age was another unknown concept to her. She'd only overheard so much of Their conversations, and did not think any had mentioned anything about an old. That was over thought for a more important topic: where was safe? Safe she knew, safe she understood. The Grey Room was not safe. She ran from there to try and find safe and now...well, here she was.
The questions were repeated again just as she reached for the shiny red apple, mouth poised open and ready to take a bite. Stopping before her lips or teeth could make contact, Kit slipped down in her seat. She still did not know old, but maybe... "Here is safe?" There was a sad hopefulness in her voice. One that spoke volumes to how tired she was of running, how much her body ached and pained. Could Missulvan let her stay?
How old was she? Age was another unknown concept to her. She'd only overheard so much of Their conversations, and did not think any had mentioned anything about an old. That was over thought for a more important topic: where was safe? Safe she knew, safe she understood. The Grey Room was not safe. She ran from there to try and find safe and now...well, here she was.
The questions were repeated again just as she reached for the shiny red apple, mouth poised open and ready to take a bite. Stopping before her lips or teeth could make contact, Kit slipped down in her seat. She still did not know old, but maybe... "Here is safe?" There was a sad hopefulness in her voice. One that spoke volumes to how tired she was of running, how much her body ached and pained. Could Missulvan let her stay?
saintaelphaba
New Member
Mag breathed through her nose. Somehow she felt she had more answers and yet knew even less. It was worth a shot.
"Yes, here. You're safe here." From whom or what she wasn't sure, and only then did she stop to question what she should have wondered before: Would whoever Kit had run from come to find them here? Were they really safe?
That was something she hoped they could deal with later. Until there was a better place for Kit to go, Kit would stay here, and Mag had to make sure she was well cared for in the meantime.
The small anxieties she had felt while cooking came in full force now: another person, here. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd shared a space with someone else (college, probably) or the last time someone had come inside for a visit, let alone a stranger. She wasn't used to having someone around, especially not a constant someone. She was used to being up odd at odd times, having noise only if and when she felt like it, spending hours on her own tasks without talking to anyone. She didn't mind sharing the space, but she found it difficult to imagine anyone else would have a pleasant time around her.
But what else was there to be done? Kit needed somewhere to stay, and here was somewhere.
"Okay, miss," she murmured, then spoke clearer, fully turning her attention back to the girl across from her. "You can stay if you need to. You can move about as you like, just don't leave the house without my knowing, please. The gate out front marks the edge of the property." It was about an acre, which Mag figured should give the girl plenty to do for at least the day. "I'll bring some clean clothes out for you, and you can use the shower if you need to. Do you need help with anything else?"
"Yes, here. You're safe here." From whom or what she wasn't sure, and only then did she stop to question what she should have wondered before: Would whoever Kit had run from come to find them here? Were they really safe?
That was something she hoped they could deal with later. Until there was a better place for Kit to go, Kit would stay here, and Mag had to make sure she was well cared for in the meantime.
The small anxieties she had felt while cooking came in full force now: another person, here. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd shared a space with someone else (college, probably) or the last time someone had come inside for a visit, let alone a stranger. She wasn't used to having someone around, especially not a constant someone. She was used to being up odd at odd times, having noise only if and when she felt like it, spending hours on her own tasks without talking to anyone. She didn't mind sharing the space, but she found it difficult to imagine anyone else would have a pleasant time around her.
But what else was there to be done? Kit needed somewhere to stay, and here was somewhere.
"Okay, miss," she murmured, then spoke clearer, fully turning her attention back to the girl across from her. "You can stay if you need to. You can move about as you like, just don't leave the house without my knowing, please. The gate out front marks the edge of the property." It was about an acre, which Mag figured should give the girl plenty to do for at least the day. "I'll bring some clean clothes out for you, and you can use the shower if you need to. Do you need help with anything else?"
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
With confidence that they were fine, Kit decided to indulge in the apple she'd been gingerly holding between her hands. Her teeth broke through the skin and into the crisp innards, sighing contently as her mouth filled with sweet juice. Her eating had slowed to a more respected speed, finally starting to feel the food toward her stomach. She was safe. She had food. There was nothing else that struck her as important.
She'd managed to gnaw her way through half the fruit by the time Missulvan spoke once more, catching her attention in full. She was a kind woman who had the best food Kit could remember having. If all she wanted was more questions answered, then Kit would be happy to provide them, or as much as she could manage. Now she was going over different things that were once more leaving her with a blank expression on her face, missed by the woman.
"Stay house is safe," she repeated back what she understood of the instructions. "Clothes for you and...shower?" Clothes she understood but no longer had, abandoned when she escaped. A shower was something else. Help. Help was a concrete concept. Missulvan seemed like someone she could trust, someone who was willing to help her. Deciding it was worth a shot, Kit asked gingerly. "Help with hurt?" Her brain raced to think of more words, knowing what she wanted to express but struggling with voicing it. If only she could simply see! "Hurt on you. Help with hurt?"
She'd managed to gnaw her way through half the fruit by the time Missulvan spoke once more, catching her attention in full. She was a kind woman who had the best food Kit could remember having. If all she wanted was more questions answered, then Kit would be happy to provide them, or as much as she could manage. Now she was going over different things that were once more leaving her with a blank expression on her face, missed by the woman.
"Stay house is safe," she repeated back what she understood of the instructions. "Clothes for you and...shower?" Clothes she understood but no longer had, abandoned when she escaped. A shower was something else. Help. Help was a concrete concept. Missulvan seemed like someone she could trust, someone who was willing to help her. Deciding it was worth a shot, Kit asked gingerly. "Help with hurt?" Her brain raced to think of more words, knowing what she wanted to express but struggling with voicing it. If only she could simply see! "Hurt on you. Help with hurt?"
saintaelphaba
New Member
Mag felt her resolve falter for just a beat (it had been only an hour at most, and this girl was staying indefinitely?), but steeled herself. It's okay. I'll show her what I mean, and we'll go from there. It's fine. We're just playing the world's hardest game of charades.
What Kit meant, however, was a separate matter, and Mag wasn't sure she completely understood either. "You can use some of my clothes. I'll bring them to you," she tried again, hoping that cleared at least something. Help with hurt--was Kit offering her own help? Hurt on you, but that didn't make sense. Oh--she shook her head, realizing the obvious. "You're hurt? I'm sorry, I should have... Here." She touched Kit's wrist lightly, holding on with the barest pressure in case the girl startled or pulled away. "Is this okay? I'll show you where the bathroom is." Pulling Kit gently along, Mag started for the bathroom, letting the girl walk slightly behind her. She tapped the seat of the toilet and guided her to sit on the closed lid. Once she was sure Kit seemed all right, she went for the medicine cabinet.
She had some bandages--bandaids and a cloth wrap--along with cotton rounds, peroxide, and rubbing alcohol. She winced at these last two, knowing if Kit had any cuts, these would sting. Would she know she wasn't purposely harming her?
"Okay," Mag breathed, lining up the makeshift first aid. "This might hurt at first, but it's going to make you feel better. Understand?" She lowered herself to the ground, balanced before her on her knees. "Show me where."
What Kit meant, however, was a separate matter, and Mag wasn't sure she completely understood either. "You can use some of my clothes. I'll bring them to you," she tried again, hoping that cleared at least something. Help with hurt--was Kit offering her own help? Hurt on you, but that didn't make sense. Oh--she shook her head, realizing the obvious. "You're hurt? I'm sorry, I should have... Here." She touched Kit's wrist lightly, holding on with the barest pressure in case the girl startled or pulled away. "Is this okay? I'll show you where the bathroom is." Pulling Kit gently along, Mag started for the bathroom, letting the girl walk slightly behind her. She tapped the seat of the toilet and guided her to sit on the closed lid. Once she was sure Kit seemed all right, she went for the medicine cabinet.
She had some bandages--bandaids and a cloth wrap--along with cotton rounds, peroxide, and rubbing alcohol. She winced at these last two, knowing if Kit had any cuts, these would sting. Would she know she wasn't purposely harming her?
"Okay," Mag breathed, lining up the makeshift first aid. "This might hurt at first, but it's going to make you feel better. Understand?" She lowered herself to the ground, balanced before her on her knees. "Show me where."
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
Even though it was the faintest touch, instincts had Kit flinching as Mag's hand found her wrist. Heart thudding in anticipation, it took her a moment to understand she was not in danger. Every bone in her had longed to launch into flight, but she resisted. Missulvan was here to help her. Swallowing down her fears, Kit followed her from the table, abandoning what was left of the apple core.
Each step showed her a new part of the house, Kit taking it all in with interest. Everything seemed ordered, which made sense if she needed to get around without being able to see. Maybe there would be something she could help with since her eyes did work. A thought for another moment as the two of them entered a small room that had an assortment of new devices within. A few of them she vaguely recognized or had seen; the sink and the toilet she was asked to sit on.
Curiosity rang out once more as she watched Missulvan gathering different supplies. She said she would help with her hurt and Kit knew she had to trust her if this was to work. Taking ahold of her wrist as she had done to her at the table, she led unseeing hands to a smaller cut that had opened part of her thigh. It was shallow and mostly healed, so when the peroxide hit her there was little reaction. Kit continued to move her hand around, patiently waiting for the work to be done before she moved on. She'd covered the older cuts when she realized she had more important ones to still tend to, the walk to the bathroom a reminder of her feet and hands that paralelled battered paws. Holding her palm out, she expected the same sensation as the other cuts, instead met by a stinging pain that caused her to yelp out. "No! No!" Cobalt eyes were wide in fear, her memories of similar feelings surging back to her.
Each step showed her a new part of the house, Kit taking it all in with interest. Everything seemed ordered, which made sense if she needed to get around without being able to see. Maybe there would be something she could help with since her eyes did work. A thought for another moment as the two of them entered a small room that had an assortment of new devices within. A few of them she vaguely recognized or had seen; the sink and the toilet she was asked to sit on.
Curiosity rang out once more as she watched Missulvan gathering different supplies. She said she would help with her hurt and Kit knew she had to trust her if this was to work. Taking ahold of her wrist as she had done to her at the table, she led unseeing hands to a smaller cut that had opened part of her thigh. It was shallow and mostly healed, so when the peroxide hit her there was little reaction. Kit continued to move her hand around, patiently waiting for the work to be done before she moved on. She'd covered the older cuts when she realized she had more important ones to still tend to, the walk to the bathroom a reminder of her feet and hands that paralelled battered paws. Holding her palm out, she expected the same sensation as the other cuts, instead met by a stinging pain that caused her to yelp out. "No! No!" Cobalt eyes were wide in fear, her memories of similar feelings surging back to her.
saintaelphaba
New Member
To her credit, Kit seemed to understand what Mag was asking of her, patiently leading her from one wound to the next with little more than a sound. Mag tried to work thoroughly but quickly, her brows drawing tighter the more she uncovered. What had happened to her--who could do something so cruel? Kit had been so still that her sudden yelp startled her, though this was only visible by a tightening in her posture. The other cuts were superficial, old: these others were deep. Mag let go of her hands, allowing her a break.
"I know, I'm sorry. But if I don't clean them, they could get worse and make you sick. I'll be careful and do it as quickly as I can, promise. Ready?" She waited another moment, cupping Kit's hand gently as she cleaned with swift movements. She briefly regretted not bringing something to play music--her phone or the small radio she carried around the house--which would have granted Kit a distraction. She did her best to improvise, keeping her tone quiet and light.
You'll swear you've heard it before
As it slowly rambles on and on
No need in bringing 'em back
'Cause they've never really gone
Her mind was somewhere else, however. It was a strange sense of déjà vu, though it didn't make much sense at all. Last night--the cat's cracked and bleeding paws, the gash on its side--the witch stories Buna would sometimes tell of the farmer who shot the animal killing his livestock, only to return home to find his wife suffering the same wound. It didn't make any sense, but didn't it? Could such things happen?
On a hunch, Mag touched her fingertips to the soles of Kit's feet, finding wounds there too. These she cleaned quickly as possible before the younger girl could protest. This being finished, Mag leaned back on her heels, raising her chin to face her. "The one on your side. Let me see."
"I know, I'm sorry. But if I don't clean them, they could get worse and make you sick. I'll be careful and do it as quickly as I can, promise. Ready?" She waited another moment, cupping Kit's hand gently as she cleaned with swift movements. She briefly regretted not bringing something to play music--her phone or the small radio she carried around the house--which would have granted Kit a distraction. She did her best to improvise, keeping her tone quiet and light.
You'll swear you've heard it before
As it slowly rambles on and on
No need in bringing 'em back
'Cause they've never really gone
Her mind was somewhere else, however. It was a strange sense of déjà vu, though it didn't make much sense at all. Last night--the cat's cracked and bleeding paws, the gash on its side--the witch stories Buna would sometimes tell of the farmer who shot the animal killing his livestock, only to return home to find his wife suffering the same wound. It didn't make any sense, but didn't it? Could such things happen?
On a hunch, Mag touched her fingertips to the soles of Kit's feet, finding wounds there too. These she cleaned quickly as possible before the younger girl could protest. This being finished, Mag leaned back on her heels, raising her chin to face her. "The one on your side. Let me see."
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
Her hands and feet tingled with the lingering burn, though Kit did her best to be obedient. Missulvan said it was safe, she said to trust her, and she had food. Important facts that she reminded her self with each cut that hurt more and more. Once each was cleaned she hoped they'd be done. She'd held one wrist as she rocked back and forth until the burn had dissolved to a tingle. They were almost done.
But no, they weren't? Missulvan spoke of the cut she'd not been led to. The one that ached with each turn of her torso and that had caked her fur the night prior and that came close to her ribcage. Fully aware now of what sort of pain the liquid she was pouring would cause her, Kit hesitated to lead her. "Eyes do no work to see," she murmured as a weak protest before obeying. Her own hands shook as she led Missulvan's to her the side of her abdomen, closing her eyes as she prepared for the wave of pain. "Fast please..." A hushed request as she tried not to think about it.
The peroxide would do it's job and clean the wound, but at a grave price. Kit's tossed her head back as whimper after whimper escaped her. "Hurts! Hurts!" She rose off the seat a few times but continued to force herself back down. She did not want to be sick. They must be cleaned. By the time the wound was covered, silent tears were falling and Kit's shoulders shook.
But no, they weren't? Missulvan spoke of the cut she'd not been led to. The one that ached with each turn of her torso and that had caked her fur the night prior and that came close to her ribcage. Fully aware now of what sort of pain the liquid she was pouring would cause her, Kit hesitated to lead her. "Eyes do no work to see," she murmured as a weak protest before obeying. Her own hands shook as she led Missulvan's to her the side of her abdomen, closing her eyes as she prepared for the wave of pain. "Fast please..." A hushed request as she tried not to think about it.
The peroxide would do it's job and clean the wound, but at a grave price. Kit's tossed her head back as whimper after whimper escaped her. "Hurts! Hurts!" She rose off the seat a few times but continued to force herself back down. She did not want to be sick. They must be cleaned. By the time the wound was covered, silent tears were falling and Kit's shoulders shook.
saintaelphaba
New Member
Mag rolled her eyes, but a slight grin tugged at her mouth. "It's an expression." She worked as quickly as she could, nodding as Kit asked her to hurry. This close to her, she was now certain it was the scent of her own soap she'd caught on Kit before. Kit, who was there in her room this morning, who'd been "brought here."
"Hurts! Hurts!"
The cry brought her mind back to the present moment, hastening her movements until she was sure the last of the wound was cleaned up. "There, okay. Shh. I'm finished. You're okay." To her surprise, her voice was little more than a whisper--her throat had tightened sometime during the tending, almost as if she were the one on the verge of tears. She stood, hesitantly reaching for Kit's shoulders as she did so. After feeling so many cuts on her body (not to mention just how fragile she was), Mag was almost afraid to touch her, worried even a gentle touch would cause her to break. Her hands found the other's hair, curling her fingers into it softly as she drew the smaller girl closer to herself. "It's okay now. You were very good. You're fine." She moved her hands against her neck, close to her back and shoulders, almost as if trying to make sure she was in one piece, or as if she could hold her together. It was almost strange to have someone so close to her, but in a way, it wasn't. There was something familiar in the action that made it easier.
Last night I brought home an injured cat. Her paws were cut and she had a gash along one side, and I held her in a raincoat.
Gradually Mag pulled away, leaning back against the sink but still keeping a hand against her. "I hate to tell you, iubi, but we'll have to do something about that hair. You still need a bath, but I think you deserve a break for now. Let's get you something to wear."
"Hurts! Hurts!"
The cry brought her mind back to the present moment, hastening her movements until she was sure the last of the wound was cleaned up. "There, okay. Shh. I'm finished. You're okay." To her surprise, her voice was little more than a whisper--her throat had tightened sometime during the tending, almost as if she were the one on the verge of tears. She stood, hesitantly reaching for Kit's shoulders as she did so. After feeling so many cuts on her body (not to mention just how fragile she was), Mag was almost afraid to touch her, worried even a gentle touch would cause her to break. Her hands found the other's hair, curling her fingers into it softly as she drew the smaller girl closer to herself. "It's okay now. You were very good. You're fine." She moved her hands against her neck, close to her back and shoulders, almost as if trying to make sure she was in one piece, or as if she could hold her together. It was almost strange to have someone so close to her, but in a way, it wasn't. There was something familiar in the action that made it easier.
Last night I brought home an injured cat. Her paws were cut and she had a gash along one side, and I held her in a raincoat.
Gradually Mag pulled away, leaning back against the sink but still keeping a hand against her. "I hate to tell you, iubi, but we'll have to do something about that hair. You still need a bath, but I think you deserve a break for now. Let's get you something to wear."
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
Her nostrils flared from surpressing the urge to cry out, even in the unexpected hold. Kit shook within Missulvan's arms, the speed of her chest rising and falling gradually decreasing while the burn faded away. It had hurt, though not as bad as other pains she'd experienced. There were not expectations or yelling men as They demanded more and more of her. She shuddered at those memories daring to break through the surface.
But not now. Now she was safe.
House was safe.
The disappearance of warmth from Missulvan's body was more than noticable, Kit nearly asking her to come back. Warmth, comfort, caring. She had not experienced any of them, or if she had it'd been so long ago that memories of the Grey Room drowned them out. Her gaze turned upward toward the kind woman who had let her into her life and home. Kit knew she had to trust her, there was no one else to trust. It was stay and follow Missulvan's rules, or risk being out in the open where They might find her.
"Bath," Kit nodded in agreement, though at that point she was just mimicking the sound. It had something to do with hair she understood. "And...clothes." Clothes were what you wore, she spoke of something to wear. Clothes.
But not now. Now she was safe.
House was safe.
The disappearance of warmth from Missulvan's body was more than noticable, Kit nearly asking her to come back. Warmth, comfort, caring. She had not experienced any of them, or if she had it'd been so long ago that memories of the Grey Room drowned them out. Her gaze turned upward toward the kind woman who had let her into her life and home. Kit knew she had to trust her, there was no one else to trust. It was stay and follow Missulvan's rules, or risk being out in the open where They might find her.
"Bath," Kit nodded in agreement, though at that point she was just mimicking the sound. It had something to do with hair she understood. "And...clothes." Clothes were what you wore, she spoke of something to wear. Clothes.
saintaelphaba
New Member
Mag nodded, tapping her twice on the arm in a "let's go" movement as she started for the living room. She didn't think it wise for Kit to be up and moving too much, otherwise she could injure herself even further. She needed to stay off her feet (especially considering how blistered they were) and rest for some time, but Mag wondered if the girl would stay put long enough to allow herself to heal. While she still didn't know much about her guest, Mag guessed she might be the curious, explore-when-bored type, and now didn't seem like the best time to leave that up to chance.
Mag propped up a couple pillows on the couch, bringing some extra blankets from the linen closet to pad the small "nest" she had set up. "You can sit here. Wait just a moment please." Before she left for the bedroom, she turned the TV on low, flipping through until she found something that seemed pleasant enough. Judging by the laugh track, it was probably a sitcom, and she hoped it was enough to keep Kit interested.
Back in her room, she picked up the items she had knocked off her nightstand, then went for the dresser to look for clothes. It hadn't escaped her notice that Kit seemed to have none, but somehow that was the least of her worries or even the strangest thing that had happened that morning. She pulled out an old T-shirt that was large on her and would probably be a dress on Kit, then a pair of underwear. Mag herself wasn't a tall person, but Kit was so narrow.
She made her way pack to the living room, placing the clothing next to Kit on the couch. "Kit, I have some things I need to clean, but you can call me if you need me. I'll still be in the house. Do you need anything else before I go?" She caught a snippet of conversation from the TV, her mouth curling slightly upward at the joke.
Mag propped up a couple pillows on the couch, bringing some extra blankets from the linen closet to pad the small "nest" she had set up. "You can sit here. Wait just a moment please." Before she left for the bedroom, she turned the TV on low, flipping through until she found something that seemed pleasant enough. Judging by the laugh track, it was probably a sitcom, and she hoped it was enough to keep Kit interested.
Back in her room, she picked up the items she had knocked off her nightstand, then went for the dresser to look for clothes. It hadn't escaped her notice that Kit seemed to have none, but somehow that was the least of her worries or even the strangest thing that had happened that morning. She pulled out an old T-shirt that was large on her and would probably be a dress on Kit, then a pair of underwear. Mag herself wasn't a tall person, but Kit was so narrow.
She made her way pack to the living room, placing the clothing next to Kit on the couch. "Kit, I have some things I need to clean, but you can call me if you need me. I'll still be in the house. Do you need anything else before I go?" She caught a snippet of conversation from the TV, her mouth curling slightly upward at the joke.
Soliloquy
♥Hopeless Chromatic♥
Crawling gingerly on to the space she was directed, Kit was delighted to find how soft it was. Her small frame sank into the welcoming cushions and the blanket was quickly used to cover up. The house hand't been a bad temperature, but walking around bare and covered in peroxide was less than comfortable. Her delight in the spot she was allowed to sit in was overshadowed as the television was turned on.
Kit had seen few things on a screen before; objects for testing, a few basic diagrams They wanted her to compete. This was nothing like those screens though, and immediately she felt herself drawn in. The bright colors, the happy sounds, it made her want to smile, too. She inched to the edge of the cushions to get the best look she could. Faintly she heard rustling in the other room, though it was irrelevant while her attention was captivated.
Breaking her gaze away as Missulvan joined her once more, Kit looked at the clothing she was offered. It made sense she needed to be clothed, considering Missulvan was. Pulling on the shirt that successfully dwarfed her, she held up the underwear in confusion. Hooking her thumbs in two of the holes, she soon found the elastic band an enjoyable object. Testing out the fabric, she smiled to see how it stretched and flopped back to it's original form, almost missing what Missulvan had asked of her.
Shaking her head, Kit agreed to what she was being asked. "Kit stay. Stay sit." The colorful box on the wall was company enough even if she didn't have her new amusement. Looking back to the underwear, she once more tested the elasticity, only for the fabric to slip off her thumb and go flying right at Mag's face. Paling, Kit rushed to try and snatch them back, nearly toppling to the ground as she hurried. "Am sorry!"
Kit had seen few things on a screen before; objects for testing, a few basic diagrams They wanted her to compete. This was nothing like those screens though, and immediately she felt herself drawn in. The bright colors, the happy sounds, it made her want to smile, too. She inched to the edge of the cushions to get the best look she could. Faintly she heard rustling in the other room, though it was irrelevant while her attention was captivated.
Breaking her gaze away as Missulvan joined her once more, Kit looked at the clothing she was offered. It made sense she needed to be clothed, considering Missulvan was. Pulling on the shirt that successfully dwarfed her, she held up the underwear in confusion. Hooking her thumbs in two of the holes, she soon found the elastic band an enjoyable object. Testing out the fabric, she smiled to see how it stretched and flopped back to it's original form, almost missing what Missulvan had asked of her.
Shaking her head, Kit agreed to what she was being asked. "Kit stay. Stay sit." The colorful box on the wall was company enough even if she didn't have her new amusement. Looking back to the underwear, she once more tested the elasticity, only for the fabric to slip off her thumb and go flying right at Mag's face. Paling, Kit rushed to try and snatch them back, nearly toppling to the ground as she hurried. "Am sorry!"
saintaelphaba
New Member
Something flew past her face, brushing the tip of her nose and her cheek as she turned a second too late. "What was--" She bent down to see what had landed on the floor, but coming up empty, she realized it had landed on her shoulder. "Did you just--is this--?" Understanding sunk in, and she pressed her lips together, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "It's okay, but I think you'd rather put them like this. It's not as fun as using them as a slingshot, though." Mag pulled the article off her shoulder, kneeling down and slipping Kit's feet through the openings, up to the knees. "Pull them up here," she said, tapping Kit's hip. "That's where they stay."
Kit seemed fine in her spot, so Mag went back to the kitchen and washed the dishes from that morning, leaving them on the rack to dry. She tied her nightgown into a knot at her hip, filled a bucket of soapy water, and got to work on the floor. She and Buna had always shared the work--Buna cleaning the kitchen and living room, Mag scrubbing the bathroom and hallway--before settling down to watch Buna's soaps. Buna wasn't around anymore and that meant more work for her, but she didn't mind. It was a quiet activity that kept her grounded, and it gave her time to think.
What to do about Kit? She would have to take her to a doctor if she didn't heal soon, and that would lead to more questions. What would they do if they found out where Kit came from? Did she have any sort of identification, any papers? Before she had worried about letting Kit in her home--now she was more afraid someone would take her away.
A sound at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she jerked up with a start. The doorbell, at first, then a short round of persistent knocks. "'Lena? It's Judy. I have your check from this week and some cooked dinner for later. It's today's special." When she didn't answer immediately, the voice called, "Magdalena?"
"Shit," Mag whispered, setting he brush down and quickly standing. She'd forgotten what Thomas had told her yesterday with everything that had happened. She could keep Judy from coming in if she kept conversation short, but she might have to keep Kit from intervening.
Pulling her robe tighter around herself, she went to the door, nearly slipping on the wet surface but catching herself on the doorframe. She opened it halfway, careful to keep the entrance blocked with her body as a shield.
"Mrs. Bailey," she said breathlessly. "I didn't hear you earlier. Thank you for coming by."
"I told Thomas to tell you I'd give you this month's check next week, did he remember to tell you? We're applying for a business loan, so we'll be able to catch up on payments once the money goes through." Mrs. Bailey was a quick talker and prone to chatter--it was easy to see where her son got that quality from. But Mrs. Bailey was nosy as well, and though she was well-meaning, she was the last person Mag wanted to see at the moment.
"That's all right. You know I appreciate everything you all do for me." She could sense Judy Bailey leaning in to the doorway as if waiting for an invitation, but Mag held her ground. "I'd invite you inside if I could, but things are really in no state right now. I'm sorry."
"Oh, I'll be back next week like I said, but you know I really don't mind what state things are in. We're not the snobby kind." The woman laughed at her own comment (Mag smiled politely, though she didn't understand what was so funny), then asked, "I'm sorry--do you have company over?"
Kit seemed fine in her spot, so Mag went back to the kitchen and washed the dishes from that morning, leaving them on the rack to dry. She tied her nightgown into a knot at her hip, filled a bucket of soapy water, and got to work on the floor. She and Buna had always shared the work--Buna cleaning the kitchen and living room, Mag scrubbing the bathroom and hallway--before settling down to watch Buna's soaps. Buna wasn't around anymore and that meant more work for her, but she didn't mind. It was a quiet activity that kept her grounded, and it gave her time to think.
What to do about Kit? She would have to take her to a doctor if she didn't heal soon, and that would lead to more questions. What would they do if they found out where Kit came from? Did she have any sort of identification, any papers? Before she had worried about letting Kit in her home--now she was more afraid someone would take her away.
A sound at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she jerked up with a start. The doorbell, at first, then a short round of persistent knocks. "'Lena? It's Judy. I have your check from this week and some cooked dinner for later. It's today's special." When she didn't answer immediately, the voice called, "Magdalena?"
"Shit," Mag whispered, setting he brush down and quickly standing. She'd forgotten what Thomas had told her yesterday with everything that had happened. She could keep Judy from coming in if she kept conversation short, but she might have to keep Kit from intervening.
Pulling her robe tighter around herself, she went to the door, nearly slipping on the wet surface but catching herself on the doorframe. She opened it halfway, careful to keep the entrance blocked with her body as a shield.
"Mrs. Bailey," she said breathlessly. "I didn't hear you earlier. Thank you for coming by."
"I told Thomas to tell you I'd give you this month's check next week, did he remember to tell you? We're applying for a business loan, so we'll be able to catch up on payments once the money goes through." Mrs. Bailey was a quick talker and prone to chatter--it was easy to see where her son got that quality from. But Mrs. Bailey was nosy as well, and though she was well-meaning, she was the last person Mag wanted to see at the moment.
"That's all right. You know I appreciate everything you all do for me." She could sense Judy Bailey leaning in to the doorway as if waiting for an invitation, but Mag held her ground. "I'd invite you inside if I could, but things are really in no state right now. I'm sorry."
"Oh, I'll be back next week like I said, but you know I really don't mind what state things are in. We're not the snobby kind." The woman laughed at her own comment (Mag smiled politely, though she didn't understand what was so funny), then asked, "I'm sorry--do you have company over?"
